PEOPLE LIE. EVERY SINGLE DAY. In fact, most of our world was built on the foundation of lies, some with the intent to serve the greater good, and others with the intent to serve one person’s giant ambitions. But the root of every lie is exactly the same. They’re all equally deceitful, treacherous propositions spewed from the mouths of men and woman alike. Lies have the power to sound right, yet feel wrong. They have the ability to confuse your heart and twist your mind. The problem is, sometimes these lies become easier to believe than the truth. They become a sort of safety net from reality, a way to avoid what lingers in the back of your mind. And some say that over time, if you believe them long enough, they become real. At least, that’s what my mother had hoped would happen in my case. But just like every lie ever told, all it takes is one small crack in that foundation for the whole thing to come crashing down. And it did. Because everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. A beautiful and heartrending lie. I wasn’t the Defect my parents would regretfully see off to college before turning their backs on me. I wasn’t the weak friend who didn’t have enough backbone to stand up for what’s right, nor was I the loner without a purpose or a chance at real love. And I sure as hell wasn’t the weapon Bael and the members of the Darkyn Coven intended me to be. But I am the weapon the Primeval Coven needs me be. Or so they keep saying. In my Coven, there are two kinds of people: The Hunters and the Witches. They used to hate each other, even though they were on the same team, back in the old days when cars didn’t exist and time was tracked on a sundial. They hated each other so much that eventually a war was brought on by one of the original Witches—a Divine named Mourdyn. The war was known as the Great Battle of the Covens. It was meant to wipe out the existence of every Hunter, and it devastated the population of my people, the Primevals. It annihilated the population of the Darkyns—the Witches who abandoned our Coven to follow the whims of Mourdyn and his persuasive lies. But even though a lie can be struck down—imprisoned even—it can’t ever be fully erased. The scars it leaves behind on this earth and in our hearts are eternal, and somewhere along the way, someone will pick that lie back up and breathe life into it once more. Give it the wings it needs to rise again. Only, this time, that lie will be stronger, with an even greater purpose. And that’s the part that scares me the most. I glance down at my leg. The burn marks left behind from Bael’s wrath still tingle with echoes of the scorching fire he sent after me after I escaped with Weldon, reminding me that I’m nowhere near ready for the fight that’s sure to come. And that has to change. That’s part of why I agreed to come here to Ethryeal City—to the heart of our Coven. It’s where Hunters and Witches in an affinity bond enter as Night Watchmen and leave as Elites. Where those who have broken our Coven laws go to face the High Priesthood. Where those who need refuge… those like me… come to hide. The only thing is, I never agreed to being separated from everyone I know. They call it debriefing, but with every day that passes, I’m beginning to wonder… to question how long it actually takes. It’s been seven days and fourteen hours since my unfortunate and unplanned encounter with Bael—the Demon King of the Underground. In these last seven days, I’ve made more promises than I can count on two hands. And in those promises, I think I’ve told more lies than I ever have in my life. Honesty seems to have slipped out of her bedroom from inside my integrity and, in her place, deceit has crept in with the offer of survival. If I just nod along with the many blending faces all interviewing me, then maybe somehow, I’ll make it out of this phase in my life alive. I’ll make it back into Jaxen’s arms and back into the graces of the friends I’ve come to trust. But what deceit doesn’t offer is solace, because you can’t fool deceit. It knows every trick in the book. Every day, twice a day, for the past four days, I’ve recounted in specific order how my friends and I nearly lost our lives in hopes that we’d gain an advantage on the Darkyn Coven and intercept them from taking the Dagger of Retribution. The one that has the power to initiate the removal of the Veil that separates the Underground and all its evil from the humans. The very Dagger that only I have the power to touch. I’ve been singularly interviewed by every member on the Priesthood, and then by every general and Elder within the hierarchy of our Coven. And I’m so very tired. For the past four days, since I left the safe house beneath the church owned by the Night Watchmen, when I haven’t been in a laboratory undergoing strenuous testing, I’ve spent the remaining hours kept in a holding cell stripped of all personality. Chained down by claustrophobia. Shackled to the fears given free rein to destroy my hope. I don’t have a home anymore. I have four white walls, one white jumpsuit, a white bed, white sheets… the color was bleached from my life the moment I crossed into the legendary Ethryeal City. I keep trying to remember the last time I saw Jaxen’s face, but my soul has fed so often on the happiness of that memory, I fear it’s disappearing. And I don’t know when I’m going to see him again. They took everything away from me just to keep me repressed. Controlled. But what they don’t know is they cannot control what they do not own, and they do not own me. I can’t trust anyone. No one but myself, because all I know is I am more of a threat to them than I thought.
And the High Priesthood doesn’t know what to do with me.
Friday, October 31, 2014
*The book contains adult content and is appropriate for ages 17+*
Title: The Scars that Define Us (The Devil's Dust, #2)
Author: M.N. Forgy
Publication Date: October 31, 2014
BlurbThe Devil's Dust MC has a list of new threats to the club's lifestyle. Dani, to prove her loyalty, is trying to embrace a part of herself that she never knew existed until now. A sinful beast lurking beneath her surface has been awakened and is ready to eliminate anyone that stands in its way. Looking at her stained hands, she rinses the blood from them. She resigns herself to innocence lost and welcomes her thirst for more blood. After a breathtaking turn of events, Shadow is looking at life in a different perspective. Not knowing who he can trust or who he can forgive has left him feeling desolate and alone. As Shadow is laying behind his rifle, he wonders if he can pull the trigger to eliminate the threat. He takes a deep breath and squeezes the trigger, the rifle recoil ignites the fuel that drives him. Retaliations will be required. Boundaries will be shattered. Redemption will be lost. Betrayal so deep, yet they still yearn for one another. Can Shadow overlook Dani’s transgressions? Can Dani overlook the mistrust that Shadow has placed upon her?
BUY IT TODAY
Amazon US: http://amzn.com/B00MQF5SLS
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1sPRDSa
Listen to the music that inspired the book!
What Doesn’t Destroy Us (The Devil’s Dust, #1)
About the AuthorM.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She's a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn't live with the "what if" anymore and finally took a chance on her character's story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.
Abuse. Torment. Saint’s undying love for her. A witch—or four. The world’s most powerful spell. The creation of the unnatural. Her undying love for Draco. A war is brewing between the Light, the Dark and the Unknown. In the midst of it all stands Sarenah. Her memories have returned as she rewinds the past in order to move forward with her future so she can reclaim what, or who, belongs only to her, but will she be able to accept the disturbing secrets that go along with the reminiscence?
In the midst of dragging trees, I saw Sarenah sitting on the back porch, her dress hiked up around her thighs from the heat as she was thumbing through a book. She wasn’t even acknowledging the fact that I was there, nor did she care that I could see her bare legs. She was being totally inappropriate and rude at the same time … and I liked it. I felt intrigued to my very core, so much that I had to go over and say something to her. “Hey,” I mumbled. Without looking up, she reiterated, “Hey.” My frustration grew as I clenched my fingers into my palms. “Is that book so interesting that you can’t even talk to me?” That had gotten her attention. She slammed the book shut and stood up, the dress falling back down around her ankles. “Are you so interesting that I can’t even read my book?” Her dark eyes were wild and she was glaring at me as if she wanted me to spontaneously combust. “Don’t you have a job to do? Look at this mess.” Her eyes moved to the yard. “All of these branches everywhere. My uncle will have your hide.” She was so angry. I couldn’t help myself. I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and busted out laughing. Sarenah’s hands moved to her hips. I thought she was about to hit me. I threw up hands up in defense. “I’m …” The laughter got the best of me again. “I’m sorry, Sarenah.” I flashed her an apologetic grin. “It’s just, I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you talk so much and you’re spatting off at me like some crazy person.” Her gaze had softened then. She bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t crack a smile herself. “A crazy person, huh?” I nodded, stopping to really get a good look at Sarenah’s face, her stunning features and the way her dark eyes popped out in a terrific way. This was Rebecca’s sister? I had been missing out. Sarenah’s strange ways evaporated into enticement before me. I spent the rest of the evening listening to Sarenah talk as I took all of it in. The tree branches were still scattered all over the yard, but I doubted her uncle would be back anytime soon to discover the mess. Everyone knew he lived at the saloon. She talked mostly about her parents. She had a deep ache from the loss inside of her. She was in a great deal of pain that I felt my own heart hurting along with hers, for her. I found myself wrapping my arm around her and her actually letting me get away with it, but I wasn’t in it to try to make a move. I found myself wanting to comfort Sarenah, tell her everything was going to be okay. I wanted her to trust me and continue to confide in me. She leaned her head against my shoulder, being content to be there with me. It felt incredible as if I had been able to tame her so easily. She was feisty but now so serene. I could’ve lived in that moment forever and been completely content to just be lucky enough to be near her, to smell the flower fragrance in her hair as it fell down across my arm. I rubbed her shoulder with my fingertips. She started humming, the sound making the chaos within me only increase. It was in that moment that I had leaned over and my lips found hers. It had been brief but magnificent, and I was wondering if my mind was ever going to be the same.
Sara V. Zook is a paranormal/fantasy writer. She is the author of the Strange in Skin Trilogy, Clipped, Evanescent, Book 1 in The Sempiternal Series and A Magic Within. She lives in Pennsylvania with her 3 small children and husband. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SaraVZook Website: http://authorsaravzook.blogspot.com/ Twiiter: @SaraVZook Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6450481.Sara_V_Zook?from_search=true
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Title: Whatever You Do (Try Again, #2)
Author: Stephanie Smith
Release Date: January 15, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance
How do you trust someone who is everything you’re trying to avoid?Harper Lindell is having a bad day. You know, if a bad day consists of getting fired from your cushy job and then catching your boyfriend red handed playing hide the salami. Sick of meeting the same guys over and over, Harper decides to try her luck at Internet dating. How bad could it be? Right? Tate Washington wasn’t looking to meet anyone. Still dealing with the consequences of his one serious relationship, all he’s interested in is revamping his family’s behind-the-times café. He didn’t plan on seeing the beautiful receptionist from Argo again, walking into his life to use his café as a dating hub, and using him as a BFF. Can Harper really trust Tate, who is everything she thinks she needs to steer clear of? Can Tate wait while Harper works through her insecurities and fears?
Excerpt“Andrew?” I question as I reach the table. “Yes. Harper, hello.” He shakes my hand and the first thing I notice are his warm eyes. They are gentle and sincere and I feel instantly comfortable with him. “Take a seat, please.” He gestures to my seat before pulling it out for me to sit in. I smile up at him in thanks for the chivalrous action as I slide into the chair. During our emails back and forth this week, Andrew and I had figured out that we are from similar small towns not far from each other. We laugh about all the misguided town folk and the classic ‘types’ every town has. The town clown who has thought of every invention under the sun, the do-gooder mayor, the old lady gossip group, and the crazy minister and his family. Of course I didn’t laugh at that last one, as true as it is, being the daughter of a minister and all. “So what do your parents do?” Andrew asks. “Umm.” I stall looking for a distraction, not wanting to make to him feel bad. “What can I get you guys?” Tate offers and I’m grateful for the interruption. “Oh gosh I haven’t even looked yet,” Andrew says as he picks up the menu from the table. “Just the usual for me please.” As my eyes reach Tate’s his are wide with horror. I sit upright at the urgency in his expression wondering what the hell is going on. He nods his head in Andrew’s direction and I glance over. Andrew is studying the menu oblivious to mine and Tate’s silent conversation. I look back at Tate giving him a ‘what’ look as he scratches his head then stiffly nods back in Andrew’s direction. I sigh frustrated and look back at Andrew. He looks up from his menu and smiles at me before turning to Tate and placing his order. I still don’t see a problem and look back to Tate with a ‘just fucking tell me’ look. He begins running his hand through his hair as he harshly nods in Andrew’s direction again. I don’t even bother looking at Andrew again, knowing I’m not going to see anything different than before. With wide eyes and a clenched jaw, I get out through gritted teeth, “I think that’s all.” Tate sighs heavily, clearly frustrated and storms away from the table. I shake my head and when I turn back to Andrew he is staring at me in confusion. “Sorry,” I giggle embarrassed he witnessed that final interaction between Tate and me. “No worries.” He is sweet but his voice is wary. Tate and I probably looked like two mute idiots. How humiliating. Andrew seamlessly continues our conversation. I use this opportunity to study him and search for the meaning of Tate’s irrational display. I didn’t really focus on Andrew’s features before. He’s not ugly, but he’s definitely not in the same calibre as Tate or Glenn. Now that I’m looking closer at him, there is something off about his looks. I can’t put my finger on it but something doesn’t fit. It has to be something small like his eyes aren’t in line or his facial features are too far apart, maybe bad teeth or ears that are too big or small, but I can’t see any of that. All his features seem symmetrical and in proper proportion to his face, but something is definitely not right. Out of the corner of my eye I see Tate flailing his arms about. I shoot a glance his way trying not to be noticeable only to see he is frantically running his hand through his hair before tugging on the ends. No, tugging is too tame, he is pulling hard on his hair. I glance around the café and no one has seemed to notice Tate’s complete and mental breakdown. He’s lost it. Maybe it’s all the coffee fumes, they are really strong in here. When I look back towards Tate he is on his way over to the table carrying our hot drinks. I roll my eyes at his determined stare and wonder what antics he has planned for us this time. Tate doesn’t falter as he strides towards the table and proceeds to drop a hot cup of coffee all over the table and into Andrew’s lap. I gasp in shock at what is unfolding in front of me. Andrew jumps from his seat, squealing like a small girl. I watch horrified as his hair falls off his head and lands on the table in front of me. My mouth drops open as I just stare at Andrew’s toupee lying in spilt coffee. Glancing up at Andrew I see the heat rising on his face and shiny bald head. I smile awkwardly at him as I pick up his hairpiece and hold it out to him as if it’s a pair of dirty underwear and I can’t stand to touch it. He quickly swipes it from my hand and places it on his head, but not before I notice his whole head, bright red in mortification. It’s like a beacon calling in planes for landing. Andrew stares at me, his hairpiece on backwards and coffee leaking from it, dripping all down his face. “I’m so sorry Andrew,” I whisper, as I place both my hands over my mouth. Shit, I can feel the laughter rising. “No, I’m sorry Harper.” My gut churns on his behalf at the humiliation he must be feeling. The silence of the café surrounds us, lucky it’s not overly busy at this time of night. Andrew glares at Tate who smiles and raises his hands innocently, before Andrew storms out of the café not breathing another word, just leaving a trail of coffee in his wake. “You’re welcome,” Tate says casually as he pulls a clean chair up to the table, before relaxing back into it and crossing his ankles in front of him.
Wherever You Will Go (Try Again, #1)
Brooke Willis had everything she ever wanted: a happy marriage, volunteer placement at the art gallery, and the promise of starting a family with the man of her dreams.Saxon Reed had everything he ever thought he needed: a successful career, nice cars, expensive apartment, and more money than he knew what to do with. After losing her husband Brooke insists on taking over his company to keep his dreams alive. Struggling in an industry she knows nothing about, Brooke turns to Saxon, her husband’s best friend and business partner, for guidance and support. Their mutual grief, and Saxon’s need to look after his best friend’s wife, creates a connection beyond just business. Can Brooke take over the company and find a new life without saying goodbye to the past? Can Saxon protect and care for Brooke without scaring her away? What happens when your heart doesn’t listen to your head? When lines are crossed and boundaries are pushed?
About the AuthorI'm first & foremost a reader & fangirl, I will always be first & foremost a reader & fangirl. I am on street teams, I pimp and I brag. I LOVE my Authors!! I have recently started writing as a way to relax and spend some time for me. My first novel Wherever You Will Go is due to release later this year. I'm having so much fun writing my first story and I'm looking forward to the journey it is taking me on.
Author: Ker Dukey
Genre: Dark Romance/Erotic Suspense
I am a brotherI am a police detective I am a contract killer I don’t want to love I don’t want to feel I don’t want … EMPATHY.
They say some people are born with decreased activity in the front central lobe causing them a deficiency in empathy. Maybe that’s true about me but whether I was born this way or created in a moment of evil, empathy was something I didn’t possess until her green eyes met mine in the mirror and I couldn’t take her life.I didn’t want to feel, didn’t want this woman in my life complicating how I lived but she was there at every turn. Sent to haunt me for my sins. Her light so bright she provoked a shadow from everyone she touched. When a job turns bad quickly altering my life forever I’m forced to feel. When nothing is making sense I’m forced to face truths I never would recover from. When life drowns you in its cruelty you don’t know which way the current will drag you or who you’ll become once you re-surface.
I was a daughterI was a student I was a victim Did I have his love? Did I make him feel? Did I have his empathy? When the actions of a soulless killer forces sorrow into my veins I never dreamed the man healing my wounds would be the one to leave the worst scar. His love would scar my soul. Scars are permanent; I will never feel the relief from them. Will I learn to live with them, remember why I have them and learn never to let him close enough to inflict more? Will I eventually cover them… like tattoos coating them with new memories, new love and new starts? I didn’t know these answers because the pain was too suffocating, the only thing I knew was they will always be under the surface lingering. He had scars too, from his sins. There is nothing that can cover them, they were too deep, too ugly, too dark and they marked us both forever.