Friday, November 28, 2014
Lots of people have emailed me to ask what happens to Justyn and Becca in the future. Would they make it to Broadway? Would they live happily ever after? In Scrooged, you will get a glimpse into their future, and see some old friends--and villains--you thought were gone for good.
Stan Hope never cared much for his son-in-law—Justin Patko.
His black clothes and body piercings were bad enough, but the ridiculous notion of dragging Rebecca off to Broadway with a new baby on the way pushes Stan over the edge. How much can a father take?
After losing his cool at a holiday party, Stan gets a visit from three unexpected spirits. Can they help to change his close-minded ways? Or will he lose his only child forever?
Available on Amazon for only $.99.
Spoiler Alert - Don't read this unless you finished the first three books in the series! If you missed them, now is a great time to catch up! All three books are on sale for the holidays!
Phantom: $.99 Demon: $2.99 Hyde : $2.99
Children and Middle Grade Books
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Don't forget to pick up A Date to Die for: 1-4 $2.99 Date to Die for: Series #1 When dating ends in deaths and threats, Molly might be better off staying single. During one of Molly’s weekly meet-ups with her girls at their regular bar, Molly succumbs to the duress of her two best friends and begins the aggressive dating they sign her up for online where the pairings are questionable… and dangerous. They’ve entered her in an evening of speed dating. But at the end of the evening she finds an item from her past that raises questions, grief… and danger. When the number of deaths surpass Molly’s goodnight kisses, her past pushes into the present and Molly loses much more than she gains. A stalker has focused on Molly and refuses to let anyone else date her. But she refuses to be single for the rest of her life. Is Molly doomed to a life of singledom wrapped in fear – or will the stalker turn on her
#2, Oh No, He Didn’t! Molly is ready to meet up with her first date – Crisco Ethan. But first she has to survive threats at work and fear at home. Will Brad-the-bartender make a move or flirt from afar? The stalker is closing in and Molly has a terrible feeling she won’t stay untouched for long. Can she lean on Brad or is her heart pushing her toward danger?
#3 Dinner for Two Getting ready to message her next date, Molly comes across an email from the stalker that might tear her apart. The aftereffects swallow her sanity and she struggles to stay in the everyday while battling the knowledge that he can find her anywhere. Nowhere is safe. Is Brad as involved as circumstances suggest? Or is a man out there that wants nothing more than to keep her all to himself – dead or alive?
#4 Don’t Look Back! At work, a special delivery slams home the seriousness of the situation. How many more lives will be affected by the man’s obsession with Molly? Molly’s stalker attacks close to home. Can she find safety? Can anyone?
#5 Dirty Twist The stakes are high and Molly has learned how desperate her stalker has made her. Tormented with more kidnappings and deaths, Molly searches for answers in all the wrong places. Will she find what she’s looking for? Or will her fear continue to paralyze her, leaving her open for the ultimate end?
#6 Check Mate What precautions can a single girl take to protect herself from a sociopath? Why, move in with the crush and bring his ass in to play the game, of course. Even with all the bravado, Molly still learns she has a lot more to lose. Can she come back from the turmoil? Or is she doomed to misery for the rest of her short life?
#7 Last Chance In a desperate attempt to save someone she cares about, Molly faces her would-be killer. But who it is devastates her. If the killer has their way, Molly will die at their side. Can Molly escape or will she finally be on a Date to Die for?
Bonnie R. Paulson mixes her science and medical background with reality and possibilities to make even myths seem likely and give every romance the genetic strength to survive. Bonnie has discovered a dark and twisty turn in her writing that she hopes you enjoy as much as she has enjoyed uncovering it. Dirt biking with her family in the Northwest keeps her sane. Follow on: Facebook / Blog / Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter / Literary Addicts / Amazon
Monday, November 24, 2014
New Release!Samara Cavanaugh has grown up in a world filled with magic users. She’s used to bizarre and peculiar. But when a stranger checks in at The Bella Luna, the bed and breakfast her family owns, the strange occurrences in Granite Falls escalate. Many people are leery of Levi, their new guest. He claims to be in town doing research but Samara’s friends aren’t so sure that his claim is as innocuous as it appears to be. When two of her classmates disappear, her friends seem convinced Levi had a hand in it. Those closest to her have been keeping secrets from her. Those secrets put everyone close to her in danger. Suddenly, her unrequited crush on her best friend, Tristan becomes the least of her troubles.
On sale for 99¢ until November 25th!
Price will go up November 26th to $2.99.
Buy on Amazon
Friday, November 21, 2014
Read an excerpt from the book: The cab pulled to the curb on one of the city’s myriad one-way streets and Dan spoke through the holes drilled in the security glass. “What’s the damage?” “Nineteen even.” Dan stepped from the back of the cab and slipped a twenty through the front passenger window. “Keep the change.” “Thanks, big spender,” the burly driver replied, shoving the cash into the front pocket of his sweaty shirt. Dan bent at the waist, his manila folder in hand, and peered into the open window. The glare from Dan’s light-blue eyes melted the driver’s bravado, bringing long-sought momentary silence to the interior of the car. The cabbie muttered something unintelligible and the car pulled away from the curb into evening rush-hour traffic. Dan straightened his dark blue suit and his red tie before heading down H Street. The business side of the White House sat just beyond Lafayette Square to his left. As a white male in a suit, within spitting distance of the White House, Dan was perfectly camouflaged. Despite the changing face of American society and the dual terms of President Obama, those making the rules remained largely as it always had been – lily white. An hour watching C-Span was the only proof needed. Dan walked deliberately to the corner of H and 16th streets and silently mingled with a half-dozen likeminded suits waiting for the light. The pedestrian signal changed from an illuminated red hand to the depiction of a person walking. The crowd moved. Dan took three steps toward the street and then froze at the edge of the curb. He scanned his environment for a mirror reaction from anyone in the vicinity. Sometimes the best way to see if you are being followed is to stop. It was a standard counter-surveillance move, likely perfected a hundred thousand years ago by an animal on the Serengeti trying to avoid becoming dinner. The sidewalk around Dan emptied as the pedestrian signal on the far side of the street began to count down. Dan swiveled his head slowly, finishing with a glance over each shoulder. No one, he thought. At least no one on foot. Walking against traffic on a one-way street mitigated most of the possibilities of being trailed by car. He waited until the countdown on the pedestrian signal reached five and then crossed the street illegally in the opposite direction, dissecting a group of lawyers and think-tankers on their way to a local watering hole to finish their briefs and pontifications for the evening. On the far side of the street Dan turned right and headed back in the direction from which he came. Once again he checked for surveillance. Nothing. Near the end of the block, with a taxi queue ten yards ahead, Dan checked his watch with a casual glance and turned left down an alley without looking back. He passed several dumpsters and looked up at the darkening sky framed by the buildings on both sides of the alley. A light scent of urine wafted through the air. Under a fire escape near the corner of the building Dan turned again. He followed a staircase downward, his hand running along a worn metal handrail, his shoes trampling cracked concrete steps. Three stories above the urban crevasse, room rates started at eight hundred a night. Dan forced himself to relax. Feeling out of place was the single greatest contributor for being spotted in an area where one had no earthly business. But with the appropriate behavior and movement, a man in a suit in an alley was no more out of place than a man in overalls in the lobby of an office building. Properly portrayed, every appearance could be overlooked. Dan reached the bottom of the stairs and admired the collection of discarded cigarette butts thrown half-heartedly at an empty coffee can resting just outside the door. He took one more calming breath and pushed through an unlocked metal door that read “Exit Only” in neat white print. Unlocked doors were goldmines. Half the buildings in the Nation’s Capital were circumventing million-dollar security systems with propped open doors. A brick here. A doorstop there. If you knew where to look, an employee with a smoking habit could be better than a week of surveillance. Not to mention cheaper and less risky than paying off a doorman. Inside the building, Dan entered an elbow-room-only foyer facing another door. He watched the light under the closed door and waited for the telltale movement of people on the other side to subside. When the timing was right and the movement ceased, he pulled the knob. An attractive blonde in an off-the-shoulder red dress took a breath of surprise. Dan muted his response and without pausing pointed towards the men’s room with his chin. “Wrong door.” The lady in red smiled and Dan followed through on his impromptu ruse and entered the restroom. “Shit,” Dan whispered, looking into the mirror over a granite sink with gold fixtures. He had rules. One adjustment in the plan was standard. Two put him on notice. Three unforeseen adjustments to a plan and he aborted – immediately and without exception. There was little he could do about the woman in the hall so he pushed it aside. That’s one, he thought. A little early for an adjustment. The lower level back door at the Hay Adams Hotel was a direct line into the living room of the elite. Off the Record – the appropriately named bar in the basement of the Hay Adams Hotel – boasted a history as long as its client list. It was where the rich blew off steam. People with faces too famous to enjoy a quiet drink in Georgetown or along Connecticut Avenue. Faces from the morning paper and evening news. Off the Record embraced customers who didn’t mind overpaying for drinks or the forty bucks it cost to valet their cars. Money was rapidly becoming the last legal barrier for keeping out the riffraff. The Hay Adams Hotel, and its subterranean watering hole, was public. Dan could have chosen to walk through the lobby. He could have nodded at the bellhop and doorman as he strolled in unquestioned and unmolested. He could have slowly crossed the ornate wood-paneled entrance and past the polite scrutiny of the front desk as he made his way to the stairs. But why announce your arrival when you didn’t have to? Especially so close to payday. In the mirror in the bathroom, Dan checked his watch, his hair, his face, his glasses, his teeth, his fingers. He peeked inside his manila folder. He exited the room and walked through the lone swinging door into the bar. He located his target before his first foot hit the deep burgundy carpet. He completed his room assessment by the time his second foot landed. Nine men and four women, he calculated, parsing his headcount before anyone noticed he was in the room. Five men at the bar, two of them seated together, most likely coworkers. Two women alone at a table on the far side of the room in similar black dresses. Waiting for dates, he thought. A table of three huddled in the opposite corner, far enough away to be out of most contingency scenarios. Dan added two more to the headcount for the bartender and waitress, and one more for the lady in red who was now in the bathroom. Dan stepped from the dark corner near the bathroom and approached a man in his early fifties sitting alone at a table, his hand caressing a glass of Maker’s Mark. “Judge McMichael,” Dan said, sitting quickly without invitation. The judge tried not to look surprised but the corner of his eyes betrayed him as they danced towards the entrance of the bar. “The back door?” the judge asked. “Bathroom window,” Dan replied straight-faced. “Am I at the correct table?” “Yes. Thank you for following instructions.” Dan didn’t take his eyes off the judge. The judge looked older than his pictures in the press. More stately. Fifty and fit with large hands and sharp eyes. The lighting at the table was romantic – enough light to see the judge, but dark enough to erase cosmetic imperfections from across the table. Perfect call-girl ambiance. The judge stared back across the table at a short grey mop of curls and wild blue eyes dancing behind thick black-framed glasses. The judge’s eyes dropped to Dan’s hands and the manila folder on the table. Dan noticed the judge’s attention and he covered one hand with the other, both on top of the folder. “Why don’t we both agree to keep our hands on the table,” Dan suggested before getting to work. “See the two guys at the far end of the bar?” The judge turned his head slightly. “They are with me.” The judge nodded. “I will make this short and sweet. Your wife has divorce papers for you to sign. She also has an agreement regarding alimony and the custody of your stepson and stepdaughter. She says you have been refusing to sign these documents and have threatened her and her children.” “Do you know who I am?” “Yes. Judge Terrance J. McMichael. Born in Naperville, Illinois. Educated at Princeton. Law School at Dartmouth. Judge for the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit… also known as the D.C. Circuit. Wife is named Cindy. Stepdaughter is Caroline. Stepson is Craig.” “And you are?” “Someone willing to ruin your life. Your wife hired me to make a request on her behalf. You are a highly intelligent man so I’m going to assume you heard my request the first time and that I don’t need to repeat myself.” Dan paused for effect. “You are going to sign the papers.” “Do you have any idea what I can do to you?” Dan slid the manila folder into the middle of the table and opened it. The first photograph showed the judge’s wife with raccoon eyes, her nose broken, swollen to...
About the author: Mark Gilleo is the author of three award-winning novels. His books have won both the National Indie Excellence Award and the Readers’ Favorite Award. His two most recent novels were finalists in the 2014 International Book Awards. His latest novel, Favors and Lies, was named Runner-Up for fiction in both the 2014 San Francisco Book Festival and the 2014 New York Book Festival. Mark has a graduate degree in international business from the University of South Carolina and an undergraduate degree in business from George Mason University. He enjoys traveling, hiking and biking. He speaks Japanese. A fourth-generation Washingtonian, he currently resides in the DC area. Follow the author on Twitter | Goodreads
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Wednesday, November 19, 2014
When Simi finds a pretty old candlestick among the discarded props in the company storeroom, she never imagines it will grant her dearest wish. There’s something mysterious about the carved candlestick, but Simi is drawn to it. She’s saved a red candle from a box she bought years ago in an antique shop, and intends to use the candlestick to hold the last candle and make her solitary Christmas lunch more festive. It’s Christmas Eve, there’s sleet in the wind, Simi slips, but Jason catches her. Who is Jason? Where has he suddenly appeared from in the night?
Simi looks into the eyes of this gorgeous man and sparks fly …
Erotic fantasy romance from Siren Publishing and Elodie Parkes
The space between them pulsed, making Simi feel as if he actually pressed against her. The atmosphere suddenly laden with sexual tension, Simi stared down at the parquet floor as she led Jason down her apartment hall to the living room. She stopped and turned to him. He loomed in front of her like a magnet of pure sexual temptation. She dropped her bag by the coffee table and unbuttoned her overcoat. She dared to look into his eyes as she slid the coat off.
“Let me take your coat. The heating is on. We’ll get warm quickly now.” Her voice shook a little.
Jason took his overcoat off and handed it to her with a smile in his eyes.
“Sit down. I’ll take these and put some coffee on, or would you like a glass of wine? I think I have some bourbon, too.”
His voice low, he slowly sat on the end of the sofa as he answered, “Coffee is very welcome.”
She practically ran to the coat stand that was halfway down the hall near her kitchen door. She pulled her business suit jacket off and hung that there, too. With a little skip into the kitchen, Simi put coffee on. She left it to percolate and walked back to the living room. With every step, the need to be held against Jason’s muscled chest again grew, until when she saw him sitting quietly on the sofa, her heart gave a huge flip.
Protected COPYRIGHT ELODIE PARKES and SIREN PUBLISHING 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, DECEMBER 2014 RELEASE
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Drew DiPalma feels like he’s living a lie. He’s had it with his Hollywood persona, the high-maintenance women, and his sleazy agent. To escape the madness, he flees to a tourist town he’d often visited as a child. He never expected to find love on that little island. Then he stumbles upon Lainey alone on the swing set of a deserted beach.
After a dozen internet dating disasters, Lainey Riccardo has given up on romance—until she meets a West Coast hunk who has no trouble winning her heart. But Lainey only knows him as Drew, not the Oscar-nominated actor who’s constantly scandalized in the tabloids. When she learns the truth, will the small town Jersey girl be able to accept Drew’s fast-paced life? Or will the truth drive her away forever?
Order Now for only $4.99
Like the characters in Falling Star, I’ve lived at the Jersey Shore most of my life. I remember having a few scares during hurricane season. When I was in fourth grade, we were evacuated for Hurricane Gloria and just a year before Sandy, Hurricane Irene sent us packing for my sister-in-law’s with a three day old infant. But in more than thirty years living in Cape May County, I never experienced anything like Super Storm Sandy. Even though I wasn’t impacted as severely as so many others, it was a day I’ll never forget.
The day before the storm, the shelves were bare of bread and water. The gas stations were running out of gas. In my town, which is about twenty minutes inland, we weren’t told to evacuate, but the barrier islands were. When Sandy actually hit, I was home with my husband and kids. We all had flashlights and candles ready, but thankfully, we never lost power. Through the internet, we were able to see how our neighbors were being affected and it was heart wrenching. Images poured in of water rushing down familiar streets. I remember a picture of the waves gushing over the Cape May boardwalk that looked like a waterfall. The street our restaurant was on seemed to be underwater. Even though my house was dry, the scariest part for me was worrying about my family in Wildwood. My Aunt Mena has Down syndrome and just a week prior to the storm, she’d fallen and broken her leg very badly. She couldn’t be moved, and so she and my mother had to stay on the island even though it had been evacuated. The local authorities were aware and checked on them, but it was still very scary.
The worst of the storm didn’t last long. It was only a few hours. But when it was over, a lot of lives were changed. My family was lucky. Our homes were spared and our restaurant only needed minor repairs. But in Cape May County, there was a lot of damage in some of the low lying areas. A few of my friends and even the local librarian lost most of their furniture. But it was our neighbors in Ocean County that took the brunt of the storm. Entire towns were washed away. People lost everything. It was the worst disaster in New Jersey in my lifetime.
Yet, in the light of this catastrophe, something amazing happened. I saw my community pull together like never before. Food drives, clothing drives and toy drives were organized. Haroula, one of the characters in Falling Star, is based on a real friend of mine who spent days gathering clothes and supplies and making sure they got where they were needed with no delays. I tried to do my part too. We donated a ton of non-perishable foods from our restaurant and I used my influence as a mom blogger to ask companies to support the victims of the storm. Ethan Allen even came through with a brand new sofa for the young mother from the library. The outpouring of love that I saw was amazing and heartfelt. I’ll never forget when we dropped off some clothes to the local fire department. This was only one of many spots for donations, and the building was HUGE, but it was overflowing. So beyond the fear and destruction, there was a positive side to this terrible storm. New Jersey residents proved their strength and perseverance. They proved that we all have the ability to be generous and loving to our neighbors. But most of all, we proved we’re stronger than the storm!