Showing posts with label adult fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adult fantasy. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Sweet Sacrifice by L.D. Rose (Spotlight, excerpt, review, and GIVEAWAY) GFT





by L.D. Rose

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GENRE:   Fantasy/paranormal

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BLURB:

Former Navy SEAL Sebastian “Bash” Lockard died in Afghanistan after leaping on a grenade to save his comrades. Little did he know his act of heroism would grant him a ticket into Heaven’s elite army as one of the few and powerful Archangels. Struggling with his new existence, Bash still retains his human memories, leaving behind a wife he loves with all of his heart. Although he’s forbidden to see her, he can’t resist her lure, or the mortal desires he harbors for her.

As a young widow and nurse, Irene Lockard still mourns her husband two years after his untimely death. His absence is everywhere, and when her best friend weds, she hits an emotional rock bottom. As if summoned from the skies above, Sebastian appears before her, and they share an unforgettable night. But when he once again vanishes, she wonders if she’s truly gone mad with grief.

The only way Sebastian can remain with Irene is if he makes the ultimate sacrifice. But will she overcome her fear of losing him again to another war?



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EXCERPT

Her eyes snapped open, her vision blanketed by huge white feathers, before a giant wing shoved her back. Her arms flailed as she fell hard on her tailbone, the impact rattling up her spine and clacking her jaw shut.

Pain and awareness ripped into her, the veil of fantasy torn from her eyes as she gawked at the rail in front of her.

She was outside. In the dark. Ready to jump from her hotel balcony.

Her sharp intake of air scraped her ears, her heart kicking against her ribcage as she covered her gaping mouth with her hand. Holy shit. Did I sleepwalk? Was she really about to plummet to her death from fourteen stories high?

And did a huge bird just save her life?

Backpedaling across the concrete, the air cool against her thighs now that she’d nearly torn her dress in half, she hit the glass of the sliding balcony doors. Reaching up with a shaking hand, she clutched the handle and pulled herself haphazardly to her feet, yanking the door open and stumbling inside. She slammed it shut behind her, the glass rattling from the force of the blow as she flipped the lock closed. Retreating farther, she toppled onto the bed, staring at the night outside with growing horror.

She recounted her steps from when she’d arrived at the hotel. The elevator, the housekeeper, entering the room, sitting, crying, falling asleep, the river, the blood, the panic, the tree—

The tree.

Climbing the tree, touching its leaves, remembering . . .

A loud thump hit the balcony outside, muted by the thick glass. Her bleary eyes shot to the figure standing on the ledge and she released a cross between a sob and a shriek, then stifled her mouth with a hand.

Tall, bare-chested, his suit jacket and shirt bunched in his fist as he tossed them aside. Tattoos covered his arms, shoulders, and the base of his neck. Closer now, she discerned the pattern of inked wings, pale muscles rippling, lines and cuts he’d never worn before. His dark hair fell a little longer on top, disheveled from the wind, his face still carved with gorgeous edges, but thinner, wearier. His eyes were black holes, endless, consuming. Infinite.

Sebastian.

His knuckles rapped on the glass, the sound sending a terrified jolt into her nervous system. His eyes bore into hers, cutting through the darkness.

“Reen. Open the door.”

Reen. Her nickname rumbled from his lips, his voice still that resonant timbre she adored. God, some nights she’d pleaded to hear that sound again, just to listen to him speak one last time.

This had to be another dream. He had to be a dream. She was hallucinating.

Christ, had Phillipe spiked her drink?

“Reen.” He grasped the handle, tugged on it, his inked bicep contracting. “I know you see me.”

She couldn’t move, nailed to the bed with fear, paralyzed by disbelief. He pressed both palms flat on the glass, big hands with callused fingers, hands that had memorized every part of her body. He broke eye contact, dipping his head as he murmured, “Please, baby. Let me in.”

As if his plea granted her motor skills, Irene was suddenly on her feet, hurrying across the carpet toward him. She struggled to control her shaking hands, trembles reverberating through her entire body. It took her three tries to flip the latch, and then she backed away, recoiling, afraid of this man who looked so much like her dead lover.

He pulled the slider open in a smooth, fluid movement, the cool ocean breeze escaping into the airless hotel. Setting his sights on her, he stepped over the threshold, his presence filling the room, overwhelming her entirely. When her back hit the main door, the opportunity to flee opened up wide, but she stilled as his scent wafted into her nostrils, a blend of sandalwood and her husband.

Sebastian. Her Sebastian.

The slider closed behind him, the finality of the sound echoing through her bones, and she couldn’t run.

Not from him. Never from him.

An almost strangled sigh escaped him and he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. A gut-wrenching pain glittered in his dark eyes while he drank her in, his gaze skittering over her from head to toe, as if reacquainting himself with his broken disaster of a wife.

Finally, he approached her in the dark, closing the distance between them, and she pressed harder against the door. If he held her, if he so much as touched her, she would be lost to him, squandering any semblance of sanity she’d managed to retain in these awful years without him.

Blistering tears flowed freely down her cheeks as he halted mere inches away, so close, so goddamn close his warmth radiated off his bare chest. He lifted a hand and she flinched, stopping him as if she’d slapped him. The pained expression on his face yanked a wretched sob from her throat, and she just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe he stood right there in front of her.

The medal, the flag, the decorated casket, the salute . . . had it all been a lie?

His finger brushed her cheek, tentative, soft, waiting for her to strike. When she didn’t, he cupped her face in his hand, his skin still rough and callused, wiping away her tears with his thumb. She leaned into his touch, unable to resist his warmth, and he framed her face with his free hand, staring into her eyes with a need so raw it stole what little breath she had left in her burning lungs.

“My God.” He whispered the words, as if he didn’t have the strength to give them voice. “I’ve missed you.”


Buy links:




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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

L.D. Rose is a neurotic physician by day, crazed writer by night, and all around wannabe superhero. She writes paranormal romance and urban fantasy, but she's been known to delve into horror, sci-fi, and medical suspense on occasion. L.D. Rose is a PAN member of the RWA, FF&P, NEC-RWA and CoLoNY. She currently lives in Rhode Island with her studly hubby, her hyperactive boxer, and her two devious cats.







Signup for her newsletter for the latest on the Senary, sneak peeks, giveaways, and other fun stuff: . You'll receive a free horror short story with sign-up! 



You can also join her reader group on FB for more shenanigans. ;) 
DEVOUR THE NIGHT

Where else to find her:



Website



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GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway


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My review:


4.25 stars

Sweet Sacrifice by L.D. Rose is a contemporary paranormal/fantasy romance that is part of ‘The Soul Mate Tree’ series.  Widow Irene Lockard has still not gotten past the loss of her heroic SEAL husband who sacrificed his life to save the others on his team. Sebastian “Bash” Lockard is still coming to terms with his role as a newbie archangel but the requirement that he put aside the love and devotion he still has for his wife may be the one thing that he can’t comply with.

I always enjoy stories that highlight military heroes and the twist that includes archangels and an even larger war being conducted made this a fascinating tale for me. I liked the different slant on such things as the manifestation of wings and weapons, and the intense connection between the main characters is lushly romantic although I was definitely puzzled about how things would work out. There are a few things that I’m not quite satisfied with (including the explanation of how Bash is reintegrated into the role he chooses at the end) and wow, what a harsh and ascetic afterlife! Those who are squeamish should be advised that there is a bit of violence depicted with a fair amount of clinical detail. I was captured by the story immediately and loved the gradual revelations. I wasn’t quite sure about the Soul Tree’s involvement with these two except for very brief encounters and I think a lot of things were a bit glossed over but this was still a very fun and entertaining read.



A copy of this story was provided for review


Monday, July 23, 2018

A Promise Remembered by Erin S. Riley (Spotlight, excerpt, review, and GIVEAWAY) ADULT title GFT




by Erin S. Riley
ADULT title
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GENRE:   Fantasy

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BLURB:

Two souls entangled in an eternal echo of true love…

Rowan and James have been drawn together in every existence since the beginning of time. But love's sweet promise is cut short after an unthinkable tragedy strikes two young families, shattering the bond in this lifetime.
Is love stronger than death? Can Rowan and James find another way to each other? Against all odds, a forgotten promise is remembered and kept, reuniting two souls destined to be together.



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EXCERPT

  
Rowan opened the closet door, jumping back as the hinges squeaked, and gazed around the empty space. It was an old fashioned small closet with a single hanging bar and a shelf on top. There were no visible signs of rodents.



Scratch, scratch, scratch.



The sound was coming from under the floor, it seemed. She knelt carefully, keeping her can of compressed air at the ready, as she examined the wooden floorboards. Looking closer, she furrowed her brow. The blemish was nearly seamless, but she could tell the floorboards had been cut. Despite her fear of the rodents, her curiosity was piqued. Was there actually a secret compartment hidden in the closet floor?



Rowan used her fingernails to pry up the end of one of the floorboards, peering down warily in case the mouse decided to jump out at her. After removing two more boards, she used the flashlight on her phone to examine the dark hole. No beady red eyes stared back her. The secret compartment in the floor contained only what appeared to be a dusty shoebox.



Rowan sprayed some compressed air around to be safe, then pulled it out the box marked Airwalks, men’s size twelve. Carrying it closer to the window, she sat down on the floor to lift the lid.



There wasn’t much in it. A crumpled pack of Marlboros, so old the tobacco had fallen out of the cigarettes. A lighter. Several baseball cards. A pencil drawing of a large tree, drawn by someone who was by no means an artist. A well-worn Playboy magazine with Pamela Anderson on the cover. Rowan glanced at the date—1997.



A wave of sadness washed over her. She must have found the secret stash of Bella’s long-dead brother. Poor kid. It seemed oddly intrusive touching the private things of a dead boy, and Rowan hastened to put everything back where she found it. But the sound of something rolling in the box caught her attention, and she peered in.



A stick? A small twig half the size of her pinkie was in the bottom of the shoebox. Why had the dead boy put a stick in his secret shoebox? Despite herself, she reached in to pick it up.



A wave of energy prickled through her body, like a shot of expresso, quickening her pulse and her breathing. She heard a noise behind her that sounded like a gasp of surprise, and turned sharply to find she was no longer alone in her bedroom. Rowan screamed as she leapt to her feet.



A man stood in the middle of her bedroom, blocking her only exit. Tall, dark haired, lean yet muscular, he was nearly naked, wearing what appeared to be bicycle shorts. How had he gotten in her room? What was he going to do to her? With a sick sense of panic, Rowan remembered Bella saying her ex had been a crazy stalker. Had he returned to kill them both?



“What the . . .?” The man’s voice was deep and grumbling as he glared at her with displeasure. “How the hell did you get in my house, Rowan?”



Rowan backed up, still gripping the stick, and desperately looked around for a weapon. “How do you know my name?” she squeaked.



He stepped closer, his broad shoulders and naked chest now very close to her face. She got a whiff of aftershave as she peered up into angry green eyes that seemed startlingly familiar. Blinking in confusion, she dropped her gaze for a moment, which unfortunately landed on his ripped abs and the trail of fine hair that lead down toward the low waistband of his bike shorts.



Oh, they weren’t shorts. They were underwear. An angry man who somehow knew her name was standing in her bedroom wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs.



“How do I know your name?” he echoed unbelievingly. “Are you on something?” Confusion lanced his face as he looked around the room. “What did you do to my bedroom?”



He took another step in her direction, reaching out as though to touch her. Rowan screamed, dropping the stick, and bent to pick up the discarded can of compressed air with the intention of bashing him in the face with it. But when she looked up, he was gone.





Buy links:


Amazon
Barnes and Noble
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:


Erin S. Riley has an undergraduate degree in psychology, a graduate degree in clinical counseling, and is a board-certified lactation consultant. Since Erin was a child, she has been fascinated with human nature and what motivates behavior. She enjoys writing suspenseful, complicated love stories that take the reader on an emotional journey and end in happy tears. Erin is the author of the Sons of Odin Series: Odin’s Shadow; A Flame Put Out; and Oath Breaker; as well as a paranormal romance, A Promise Remembered.










Amazon author page
Facebook
Website
@erinsriley1 (twitter)






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GIVEAWAY





a Rafflecopter giveaway



The tour dates can be found here


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4 out of 5 stars

A Promise Remembered by Erin S. Riley is part of ‘The Soul Mate Tree’ series and features Rowan Findlay, who has never quite recovered from the traumatic events during her childhood. Her fortuitous encounter with a charismatic woman who has her own painful past leads Rowan into an adventure that allows her to meet an irresistible man named James. Their connection forces them both to find out if love can transcend apparently insurmountable obstacles.

This paranormal romance provides a great twist on the premise of a mysterious tree helping soul mates find each other. The author weaves a compelling tale that has intriguing twists and turns and beautifully romantic scenes. The shifts are a little disconcerting to absorb at first and my brain started to boggle at trying to keep the two different versions of things straight but I love the connections that form between the main characters. There are sobering topics addressed including guilt and coping methods such as anorexia, but they were integral to the story rather than didactic, and there are elements of humor to keep the tone from becoming too weighty. I was unaware of one of the possible side effects of anorexia and I definitely was anxious about how that was going to affect the outcome. For me, a couple of things are glossed over a bit and I felt sorry for two of the characters and wondered about Bella’s future, but I definitely enjoyed the story and will be looking for more tales by this author.


A copy of this title was provided for review
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Thursday, June 28, 2018

Windsong & Requiem - Of a Great Deep by Chad Hunter (VBT, excerpt, and GIVEAWAY) GFT ADULT title


I have the pleasure of sharing a guest post by author Chad Hunter, who answers my question...





ELF: What was the most difficult thing to overcome on your path to becoming a published author and how did you conquer it?


CH:  There seems to always be several difficulties to overcome.  I think to be a writer is to be a creator.  Creating anything is not easy and there will always be some level of pushback.  Some people view it as life knocking you around but others see it as the test.  Like “how bad do you want this?”  I think that trial by fire is a great chance to move past the obstacles and into the opportunities. 

Time-management has always been a challenge.  I have a family, additional job duties and a life that all need time and attention.  I remember, right around the time my son was born, people were telling me I would never have time to write again.  I took those words of negativity as a collective chance to say “Oh yeah?  Watch this!”  In addition to having a busy life, I also do a lot of public speaking, especially to children, about the importance of creativity.  So, for Of a Great Deep, finding the time to do the research, formulate the plot and get the book done was challenging.  I write a lot in the morning, at night, at lunch and wherever I can.  Even five minutes of writing is better than none.  I am a writer and to not write is like not breathing.  I need oxygen.  I need to write.  So, I find the time even if its waiting for an oil change or at the doctor’s office, etc.  Even if it’s with a pocket journal, I write.

I’d say another challenge is dealing with the voice of doubt that I believe every creative person has to deal with.  “You’re not good enough.”  “This isn’t good enough.”  “No one wants to read this.”  All of these emotions and more run through my mind when I’m striking out on another literary voyage.  I think we all have to dance with self-doubt, fear, worry to some degree.  But, I remind myself of my past accomplishments, I surround myself with positive people and items (I love daily inspirational quotes.) Ultimately, I feel a connection and responsibility to the story, its characters and the need to see their tale told.

Last but not least is the difficult truth that I have a finite amount of energy!  I know my peak times to write.  I know the moments when my body and mind are ready to crank out stories.  I am learning to accept those moments when it’s time to get some sleep.  It’s about balance I think.  Give my body the rest it needs and it will provide me with the focus and energy to achieve what I want.  Funny thing is that there are times when I am beyond tired and I do keep writing.  My Beta Readers will know these moments because as they read my drafts, there will be random ellipses on a page that go nowhere.  LOL!  It’s a signature move now! 

Plus, when I’m tired I am reminded that the Good Lord made coffee!  God bless that goat (look up the discovery of coffee and you’ll thank the goat too!)

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by Chad Hunter

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GENRE:   Pirate fantasy, Mature

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BLURB:

The year is 1716. The world is in the Golden Age of Piracy and fabled ships sail the seven seas. One such vessel is the Requiem, captained by the young but wise, brave but dubious Nabopolassar “Bo” Travis. Alongside his first mate Ghassan, quartermaster Winter Burke and navigator Glover, Travis seeks treasure, female company and good drink. The Requiem’s legendary adventures are filled with tales of monsters and myths - all of which are true. Now, someone or something is sailing the seas in search for a treasure chest – a chest that holds unknown riches which only promise to change the world forever. Captain Travis, his crew and a beautiful young map reader must brave the dark and the deep to find the treasure. Will the Requiem find the X on the spot before the infamous Captain George “Bloody-Face” Fiddick does? Will Travis uncover the secret behind the cursed black ship which changed his young life forever? And will the treasure chest truly be full of riches or does something far more insidious lie in wait? Ready your flintlock. Sharpen your sword. The Requiem awaits.


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EXCERPT

"I was wondering when I would hear from you again," Bloody Face began.  He spoke to the
skull as if he expected it to return the conversation. And it did.

"Captain Fiddick," the jaw-less skull began.  The words came from the skull, more so from
around it somehow.  It was hollowed and beyond characterization.  It was both male and
female voices overlapped.  There was no accent or hint of particular dialect.  "Your preliminary voyages and excavations have proven useful.  You have eliminated possible locations of that which I seek.  I trust you received your payment?"

"Aye," the pirate answered, "I've been hired before.  Been a privateer a time or two yet no
one ever paid me in full advance."

"That is because gold is not the true goal of the legendary Bloody Face Fiddick."

"And what is, specter?"

"I am no specter, Captain.  Merely someone who can communicate through means long forgotten.  I know that you desire something more than riches.  Something everlasting."

The pirate looked at the possessed bone on his desk.  

"Speak your peace, enigma."

"CAPTAIN!" the navigator called out.  "THERE'S WOOD!  WOOD IN THE WATER!"
Windsong & Requiem

Bo cursed repeatedly.  "Damn, damn, damn, no, no--!"  Ghassan moved quickly alongside
the man.  







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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Chad Hunter was born in East Chicago, Indiana. Raised by a single mother in the city's Harbor section, he is the youngest of four. Growing up in the Midwest and a proudly self-proclaimed "Region Rat," Hunter has written and published several books and novels. He has written for magazines and newspapers throughout North America and has been published in several languages. His writings have been called sophisticated yet humorous, sharp witted and unrelenting.
 
Most often, Hunter's writings have been considered so wide and diverse that they span a scale that would include multiple writers with multiple forms.  In addition to being a published author and journalist, Hunter is also a professional speaker.  Having presented to high schools, colleges and various other audiences, his talks and discussions center around the positive impact of literary and creative presences in one’s life.  A large portion of Hunter’s focus is on the uncanny strength of human connectedness which is emphasized via the lens of writing and creativity.
 
Working in genres including dark fantasy, memoirs, science-fiction and anecdotal collections, Hunter weaves tales of monsters, heroes, zombies, wedding planning, technology, pirates and even black parakeets.  With over ten books under his belt, If anything binds his varied styles, it is Hunter's theme of the human condition, humor and family closeness - all to the backdrop of romantic love, vibrant remembrance and even monsters themselves.



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GIVEAWAY


a Rafflecopter giveaway



The tour dates can be found here



Saturday, April 7, 2018

Saturday Seven Fantasy series








I chose to spotlight some of my favorite fantasy authors...each of whom inevitably had several series. Yes, this is what makes up the rest of the bulk of my keeper shelves...

Each of these authors has/had the ability to create vivid worlds that I loved visiting and memorable characters who inspired and entertained me. I again had to cheat by including several series for some of the authors and I am again reminded that I will have to create a second list since there are several more names that I wasn't able to include!

Please remember to visit the other blogs participating in Long and Short Reviews hop.
          

Anne McCaffrey


         

Robin Hobb

    

Juliet Marillier

                    

Mercedes Lackey (yes, there are probably seven or more series just by this author!)



Roger Zelazny

        

Sharon Shinn




ADULT titles (the first series includes BDSM elements, so be forewarned)

         

Anne Bishop