The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart by AM Hargrove

 
Amazon Canada:  http://amzn.to/1B3efKf
Smashwords:  http://bit.ly/1cMbQrB
 
 
 The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart (A STAND ALONE Hart Brothers Novel)
 
*Contains strong language and sex so is not suitable for younger readers.
 
If you think this is just another Romantic Suspense—think again. Get ready for your paradigm to shift and be prepared to step into another world.
 
“Hello, my name is Kade Hart and I’m a drug addict.” Isn’t that what recovering addicts are supposed to say? Hell if I know. I’m not sure about anything anymore. Not since I met her. Juliette. She’s my game-changer.
 
I’ve lived on the streets, been in places no one ever wants to see, survived pure hell with the bastard who raised me. I thought I’d finally managed to put all that behind me, come to terms with who and what I am. Until she walked into my life. She’s running from the people who slaughtered her family, people who want her dead, too, and she makes me want to be the kind of man who can protect her, who can save her. But I’m not sure I’m that guy. I’m no one’s hero.
 
Or am I?






 
 One day, on her way home from work as a sales manager, A. M. Hargrove, realized her life was on fast forward and if she didn’t do something soon, it would quickly be too late to write that work of fiction she had been dreaming of her whole life. So, she rolled down the passenger window of her fabulous (not) company car and tossed out her leather briefcase. Luckily, the pedestrian in the direct line of fire was a dodge ball pro and had über quick reflexes enabling him to avoid getting bashed in the head. Feeling a tad guilty about the near miss, A. M. made a speedy turn down a deserted side street before tossing her crummy, outdated piece-of-you-know-what laptop out the window. She breathed a liberating sigh of relief, picked up her cell phone, called her boss, and quit her job. Grinning, she made another call to her hubs and told him of her new adventure (after making sure his heart was beating properly again).

So began A. M. Hargrove’s career as a Naughty and Nice Romance Author. Her books include the following: Edge of Disaster, Shattered Edge and Kissing Fire (The Edge Series); The Guardians of Vesturon Series (Survival, Resurrection, Determinant, reEmergent, and Beginnings); Dark Waltz, Death Waltz, Tragically Flawed (Tragic 1), Tragic Desires (Tragic 2), Exquisite Betrayal, Dirty Nights; and lastly Freeing Her, Freeing Him, and Kestrelall part of the Hart Brothers Series.
 
Other than being in love with writing about love, she loves chocolate, ice cream, and coffee and is positive they should be added as part of the USDA food groups.






 
  

 

 

 

Juliette Emilie
Two Years Ago
 
 
 
My car was loaded with all my belongings. It was sad to
leave my friends but wasn’t that a part of graduating from college?
Commencement had taken place two weeks before and we’d all decided to hang
around for an extra week. That expanded into two. My parents finally put their
feet firmly down and said it was time to head home and start job hunting. Then
we made a pact. We swore we’d text or call each other every single day and post
the worst pictures possible of ourselves on Facebook. After our laughs turned
into tears, we cried. I mean ugly cried. If that hadn’t been bad enough, I was
teary-eyed all the way home, too.
 
As part of my graduation gift, my parents promised to take
the family on a vacation. We were supposed to leave the following week for a
trip to the Caribbean. We’d been once before when I was a kid, but my little
sister didn’t remember. She and I were both excited because it had been ages
since we’d hung out together. We were three years apart and I adored her, so
this would be a special trip for us.
 
When I pulled in the driveway, I honked the horn. They knew
when to expect me because I texted them when I left my apartment. I thought it
was weird that no one came to the door. Some kind of homecoming, after all that
begging to get me back here. Instead of lugging my stuff inside, I decided to
enlist their help.
 
Barging in the front door, all smiles, I came to a
screeching halt. Furiously, I blinked to clear my vision. The scene that
greeted me could in no way be real. It wasn’t possible to process what I was
seeing. Was this some kind of a cruel joke? Was this a staged scene to make me
regret staying so long at school?
 
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying when I opened them again it
would all be gone, because I knew none of the above could be actual … concrete.
It had to be fictional. It was the scent of blood that clued me in … that
brought me out of my frozen state. I never knew what a distinct and pungent
odor blood had. And why would I? I had never been around such an enormous
quantity of it before. There were rivers and ponds of it, forming into pools as
it still trickled from the bodies of my mom, dad, and sister.
 
“Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God.” I swallowed and then tried to
scream, but only a weird squeak emerged from my mouth. It was only when I
tasted my own blood that I realized my hand was clamped over my face so hard,
my teeth had gouged into my lips. My baby sister, Sylvie, was stripped naked
and lay slumped on her side, one arm bent across her stomach, the other
stretched out, palm open. My mom, my beloved mother, was facing my sister, both
arms reaching out to her as if she tried to get to Sylvie before she died. And
next to my mom was my dad, flat on his back, vacant eyes staring at the
ceiling.
 
“Noooo!” I finally screeched. There was so much blood
everywhere. I wanted to hug all of them, hold them in my arms, but all I could
do was stare at the gruesome scene in front of me. The thought never occurred
to me that whoever did this could still be in the house. Somewhere in the back
of my mind, I knew I should call 911, but the shock of seeing it all took every
bit of rationality away from me. My head involuntarily jerked between the three
of them, eventually settling on my dad. My shaky legs carried me as far as the
sofa until my hip slumped against it, and my butt slid to the floor.
 
I sat and stared at their faces for I don’t know how long.
They say right before you die, your life flashes through your mind. I don’t
know if that’s true, but as I sat there staring at my murdered family, memories
zoomed through my head—almost like a slide show on fast-forward of
photos from family events. It began when I was a young girl and ended at my
college graduation just a couple of weeks ago. My whole being vibrated with
agony, knowing those were the final memories I would have of them.
 
My entire family lay dead. Not just dead, but slaughtered,
each one dying their own heinous death. My dad’s neck was ripped apart, jagged
pieces of his flesh lying open. One arm was extended toward my mother, and the
index and middle fingers of that hand were missing. My mom’s neck was sliced
wide open from one side to the other, not jagged like my dad’s, but cleanly
slit, almost to the point of decapitation. Both of them had their legs split
open from their groins to their knees. The blood was still seeping through
their clothing, the mangled threads edged with their bloody tissue. But Sylvie
was the one that got to me the most. Her neck was bruised and slashed, just
like Mom’s. Only there were puncture wounds all over her body. Some were about
an inch wide where others were cylindrical shaped. Blood seeped from each of
them, running into lines creating zigzags of red all over her pale skin. I
couldn’t even allow myself to imagine what had made them. Worse yet, there was no
sight of her clothing anywhere. What kind of cruel people would have done such
a terrible thing to them? Was this a mob killing? Or some kind of gangland
initiation?
 
Even though they were the victims, I felt like my guts had
been sawed out right along with their souls. My belly heaved and I forced the
bile back down. The piercing pain that slashed my heart to shreds radiated
through me ceaselessly. I hugged myself in a stupid attempt to ease the pain,
but I should have known better. That would’ve been like putting a Band-Aid on
an amputation. And that’s exactly how I felt. Like someone had cut off my arms
and legs. For some reason I was unable to wrest my eyes away from the horror
movie I was seeing. It was hideous. Too final. Who could’ve done such a thing,
I kept asking myself. And why? My mind raced. Suddenly, my heart gave a massive
lurch and a surge of adrenaline coursed through me. Body tingling, a jolt of
panic instantly flooded my veins and I found it impossible to expand my lungs.
I crashed sideways to the floor and it was then I saw it. Next to my dad’s
hand, scrawled in his blood, he’d written two words.
 
JE hide
 
JE. Those were my initials. Juliette Emilie. Why would he
write my initials in his blood and the word “hide” right after them? The “e” on
the end of hide was barely formed, as if it took all of his effort to complete
it. Oh, Jesus. Oh, God. He must’ve known something. He was telling me to hide.
Hide from what? What did he know? Did he know who did this to them? And if so,
were they looking for me now? Oh, shit. If so, I needed to get out of here. But
where would I go?
 
Sometimes a sense of intuition seeps into you and you have
no idea where it came from. At that very moment, something settled over me and
I crawled toward my dad, reached for his arm, and using his sleeve, I dragged
it through the blood to smear the words he’d written. Scrambling to my feet, making
sure I avoided any of the congealing blood, and nearly crashing back to the
floor several times, I staggered out the door to my car. My hands shook so
violently I couldn’t put the key in the ignition. It took several stabs until I
was successful, but I roared out of the driveway, tires squealing. It was a
battle to stay conscious as I fought hyperventilation, but I did. My brain was
scrambled eggs. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Shit! My family had
been mutilated and my dad left me a message in his own blood that told me to
hide! That meant I couldn’t call my friends. That meant I was alone. I slammed
my hands against the steering wheel. What the fuck was I going to do?
 
I couldn’t think straight. Images of my butchered family
kept speeding through my head. My hand clenched my hair, grasping a handful of
it. I wanted to rip every damn strand of it out. I screamed as loud as I could
as I drove. Then it hit me. I needed money. Dad always said he kept an
emergency stash of cash in his safe. That’s where I needed to go.
 
My dad didn’t believe in keeping his valuables at home. Dad
was a gemologist and owned a jewelry store. He always said that keeping his
safe at an obscure location was a much smarter place for it than storing it at
home. My next stop was a storage facility where dad kept the safe. He’d chosen
a facility that wasn’t under surveillance—one that didn’t attract attention. If
you ask me, it looked sketchy, but he said that was the idea. No one would ever
think he’d be foolish enough to keep a safe there.
 
I drove to the location and it was dark and creepy. Under
usual circumstances I would’ve been fine, but I was so freaked out and
panic-driven, I wasn’t sure I could make myself get out of the car. I knew I
needed cash to go on, so I had no choice. The more I thought about it, using my
credit cards wouldn’t be an option. If Dad told me to hide, then whoever did
this would probably know when and if I used them. Then a new surge of fear
almost did me in. What if they followed me? What if they were watching the
house? I craned my neck to see if there was anyone about, but nothing appeared
out of the ordinary, so I opened the storage unit door and went inside. I ran
to Dad’s unit, unlocked the combination lock, and lifted the door. It was noisy
and made me even more jittery. After I pulled the string that turned on the
overhead light, I noticed the only thing in the unit was the safe. He used to
keep odds and ends in here, but they had all been removed. I didn’t spend time
thinking about it, but went directly to the safe, unlocked it, and dumped the
contents of it in an empty duffle bag I had in my car. Not even sparing a
second to see what was inside, I closed everything back up and was back behind
the wheel in minutes.
 
With my heart still clanging my chest, I headed toward the
interstate, to an unknown destination. Then a thought hit me. GPS! My cell
phone. It had GPS. Could I be tracked? I couldn’t remember. I would dump it
anyway, just to be on the safe side. But I had to delete everything on it, as
in my contacts or they could find me through my friends. Shit, shit, shit!
 
“Calm down! Think, think, think, Jules.”
 
I wasn’t cut out for this. I was twenty-two years old and
had just graduated from college with a degree in computer science for crying
out loud. Coming up with a safe house wasn’t in my repertoire. So I did the
only thing I could think of. I drove to the most obvious place—the police
station. I even thought about walking inside and reporting what I’d found, but
a voice in the back of my brain advised me against it. Again, call it
intuition. As I sat in the parking lot, I quickly did a mass delete on all my
contacts, and texts. Then I drove to a dumpster, where I ran over my phone
several times, effectively crushing it, before tossing it inside.
 
Not much later I was on I-10 headed west to an unknown
destination. In less than an hour, my life had taken a one hundred and eighty
degree turn. I had just driven this way as I came home from LSU, in tears
because I was leaving my friends behind. Now I was in tears for a much more
compelling reason. My family had been slaughtered in our own home and the
carnage left behind would haunt my waking and sleeping hours until the day I
died. Forcing back the tears that threatened to overcome me, I drove on. I
needed to push it all aside and figure out a plan. If I didn’t, I feared I
would be in the same situation as they were. I had to pull off the road a few
times when my sobs and tears made it impossible to see or drive. But later, my
vision blurred for a different reason—exhaustion. It was right before midnight
when I checked into a Days Inn outside of Houston, Texas. I paid for the room
in cash and took the duffle bag I filled in the storage unit, along with my
overnight bag in the room. I was thirsty and should’ve been hungry, but the
contortions in my guts were so damned awful, I knew I’d never be able to
swallow a bite.
 
Once settled, I dug out the contents of the duffle bag. As
expected, there was a lot of cash. I counted over fifty thousand. That was good
and bad. Good, because I would need the money to survive on for who knew how
long. Bad, because I would have to be very careful. Carrying that much cash was
dangerous. There was also a metal box that contained loose diamonds. What I
would do with those, I had no clue. I would hide them somewhere and figure that
out at a later time. Then I found an unusual necklace. It was a black metal
chain and some kind of odd-looking gemstone—one I had never seen before. With
it was a folded up note in a strange script. I couldn’t read it, but there were
also notes in my father’s handwriting. His notes read:
 
Necklace brought in by customer and left with me. Unknown
substance. Never before seen. Checked all data entries to date and could not
identify. Customer also gave me the untranslatable note. Took to linguistics
professor at Tulane and he was unfamiliar with the language. Predates anything
he’d ever seen. My best guess—some ancient tribal torque. Stone seems to pick
up unusual traits when exposed to heat, cold, darkness and light.
 
And that was it. There was also a Bible with it and a few
passages marked. That wasn’t surprising since my dad was a very spiritual man.
But then as I was putting everything away, a small slip of
thick paper fell out of the Bible. All it said was:
 
To the keeper: wear at all times. Let not it fall into false
hands lest ye face universal destruction.
 
The handwriting was odd and not my father’s. What did this
mean? Why was it so important to wear this all the time? And if it were so important
to be worn, what was it doing in my father’s safe, obviously not being worn by anyone? What did it
mean by false hands? And where did Dad get this? And why wasn’t he able to
identify the stone? He was a gemologist, for crying out loud. He should’ve been
able to identify any kind of stone. So many damn unanswered questions. I looked
at the paper again. It was yellowed and thick, like old parchment. The letters
were drawn and looked more like symbols, now that I inspected it more closely.
What did this mean? As my fingers brushed across the surface of the paper, I
found that it wasn’t really paper at all, but a type of stiff cloth. I lifted
it up to the light, not quite sure what I was searching for. As I stared at it,
something seemed to go in and out of focus. I blamed it on my sleep-deprived
state. I’d been up late the night before, partying with my friends. And now
dealing with this, my brain was not functioning properly. I knew I needed to
crash, but I doubted I could actually sleep. I decided to turn on the TV and
see if a movie might lull me into a calm enough state.
 
I drifted off and woke up about five-thirty. As I lay there,
I thought I heard someone sneaking around in my room. I quickly turned the
light on and didn’t breathe easy until I made sure I was safe. Since I was
awake, I grabbed my computer and got on the hotel’s internet. I immediately
checked the New Orleans news and saw there were no murders reported. Since it
was still early, no one had probably realized my family had even been killed.
The idea that they were gone brought another round of body-racking sobs, but I
forced them back. I couldn’t let myself grieve for them, as much as I wanted
to. I couldn’t let myself curl up in that tiny ball and wither away, even
though that’s what I wanted. They wouldn’t want that. They would want me to
push on and survive. So that’s what I did. I came up a plan. I would drive to
Oklahoma City. It seemed like an obscure enough of a town, and no one I knew
would ever think to look for me there because I didn’t know a soul in Oklahoma.
I stopped in Dallas for a couple of hours and made it to Oklahoma City by mid
afternoon, where I got a room at a Hampton Inn.
 
After I checked in, I took a badly needed shower. Luckily
enough, I had organized and packed my bags for vacation, so all my stuff was in
one suitcase. After my shower, I got on the hotel internet again to check the
New Orleans news. I was shocked to see there were no reports of my family’s
murder. What was going on? Why wouldn’t someone have called it in? My dad owned
a jewelry store and my mom worked there with him. Surely someone had noticed
they hadn’t opened in the last day. What was going on? I came up with all sorts
of weird explanations, but none of them were solid. And then there were my sister’s
friends. Why hadn’t they come around and reported it? None of this added up.
Maybe I was wrong to have run the way I did. Maybe I should’ve stayed and
called the police. But Dad’s note was clearly meant for me. He wouldn’t have
written it in his own blood as he died, if he didn’t think I was in danger.
 
I needed a reality check. Was my mind lucid? I went back and
ticked through the facts as I remembered them. Left school and all was fine.
Talked to my mom that morning and texted her in the afternoon as I was leaving.
Got home to a macabre scene. Found Dad’s note next to his body, telling me to
hide. Left home and went to the storage unit to retrieve the contents of his
safe. Then I hit the road. How could I not be lucid? I was as sane as ever.
 
Then something nagged at me. I grabbed my computer and
Googled Dad’s jewelry store. Nothing came up. That was odd. He’d had a website
forever. I revamped it two years ago and would help him whenever he had issues
with it. I just did maintenance on the thing a month ago. His business
should’ve come up in a Google search. Next I entered his website’s address,
which was only his business’ name. That directed me to a search page, as if the
website didn’t exist. I knew the website existed, damn it. What the hell
was going on here? So I tried it again and the same thing happened. I entered
“Bressan’s Gems” into Google again. Nothing showed up. It was as if the store
had never existed. I went to Yellow Pages to look them up. There was no
listing. Okay, this was really weirding me out. How could that be? How could
all this be wiped out in a matter of a couple of days? A business can’t just
disappear. That’s not possible.
 
Or is it? Whoever killed my parents must have ties to the
government or someone really powerful to be able to do something like that. You
can’t erase stuff from the internet like that. Not unless you know people.
Powerful people. Shit. I’m in deep ass trouble. What the hell
did my dad do? Who was he mixed up with? Was he involved in diamond smuggling
or something? I couldn’t believe my dad would do anything like that. Dad was as
honest as the day is long. He and Mom emphasized that no matter what, never
ever lie. No, Dad wouldn’t do anything illegal. This was something else. And I
wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
 
I slammed my computer shut, packed up my stuff, and left. I
needed to get the hell out of there. If they were tracking anyone Googling the
store, they could track the IP address where I Googled it from. I had no time
to spare.
 
Nine hours later, I pulled into Albuquerque, New Mexico.
There would be no hotel for me this time. Instead, I headed to an outdoor and
camping store and purchased a tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad. I also
bought a bunch of other equipment, such as a lantern, cooler, and items one
would need for camping. Dad used to take us camping when we were young, so I
was familiar with the basics of it. Then I asked the sales clerk where a good
campground was. He gave me several options and off I went. That tent became my
temporary home. During the evening, I also devised a new a plan. I didn’t know
if I could pull it off, but if I knew if I didn’t, I would most likely die
because I had no doubt the people who killed my family would find and kill me
too. It was a huge risk, and I would have to be as convincing as I’d ever been,
but if it worked, it would be the key to saving my life.


 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Release Day Blitz: Barrier Between by Stacey Marie Brown

Purchase on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GhdVcQ

Zoey’s life has taken a dramatic turn. Only a few months ago she was a Collector working for the a secret part of the government called the Department of Molecular Genetics (DMG), tracking and collecting fae. Her life had been changing and improving with a partner she loved and a sister she adored.

Now all that is gone—Daniel murdered by a fae, and Lexi killed when the Seattle area is devastated by a powerful, magical electrical storm. Zoey herself is altered by her association with the Wanderer, Ryker, in life-changing way.

Zoey discovered she was an experiment from the very company she worked for. She could die at any moment of a threatening defect—taking Ryker’s magic with her.

In a race against time, Ryker and Zoey set out to find a way to transfer his powers back before it’s too late. Their journey takes them to the rainforests of South America, dealing with those who are after something Ryker possesses and who will stop at nothing to obtain it for themselves.

What Zoey and Ryker discover can destroy them or tear them a part for good.

Haven’t started reading The Collector’s Series yet? Get City In Embers for 99¢ for a limited time!

Purchase on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1A7JKkD

Zoey Daniels has been tossed from foster home to foster home, where she grows up fast and tough. When she is placed in her “last-chance” home, she finds a reason to stay and turn her life around: her foster sister, Lexie, who is paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair. Zoey will do anything to keep her safe.

After high school, Zoey is hired by a special government agency, the Department of Molecular Genetics (DMG), where she meets the other reason to remain: Daniel, her co-worker. The man she loves.

But there is something unique about Zoey. She can see fae. Because of this, the DMG hires her to work as a Collector: catching, researching, testing, and using the fae to save human lives. The work never registers on her sympathy radar. She was raised to think of fae as beasts that feed on humans and want to destroy them.

When devastation hits Seattle, Zoey’s whole world is turned upside down. The electric storm connects her to a ruthless fae, a Wanderer named Ryker, whose dealings expose them to even more trouble and danger. They embark on a journey, running and hiding from both the government and fae, both of which threaten their lives and those they love.

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About Stacey Marie Brown

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Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and sarcastic heroines who kick butt. She also enjoys books, travel, TV shows, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Stacey swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.

She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts. She volunteers helping animals and is eco-friendly. She feels all animals, people, and environment should be treated kindly.

Cover Reveal: In Transition by Kimberly Hart

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Title: In Transition

Author: Kimberly Hart

Genre: Poetry
*Warnings: Strong sexual content & language. (18+ Only)*
Anticipated Release Date: July 2015

Cover Design:  Airicka’s Mystical Creations

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Transition (verb) – movement, passage, or change from one position, state, stage, subject, concept, etc., to another

Throughout our lives, we go through many changes.  The musings of our hearts grow from little quiet flutters to intense and thunderous palpitations that captivate us in ways that we never dreamed possible.

In Transition, is a collection of poems that capture the amazing emotional changes that we have all had.  This poetry explores the new feelings we have about ourselves, love, sex, friendship, and life.  The beauty and tragedy of reaching new stages and experiencing things as we want to experience them, not as we’re told.  Raw emotion that comes from the heart exposing a portion of the soul that rarely gets a chance to be heard.

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Author Information:

While the world of paint and analytical chemistry consumes her day time, Kimberly’s true passions lie with her love of the arts. Finding the beauty in music, art, fiction, and poetry is something that eases the stress of the 9 to 5.

In addition to her poetic vices, Kimberly is a loving wife and mother of two awesomesauce little boys. Weekends filled with hockey rinks, swimming pools, and backyard fun are some of the inspiration to her prose.

But don’t be fooled – this semi-nerdy, hockey mom has a much deeper, risqué, and (dare we say) naughty side. She currently has two collections – more. and Behind Closed Doors available. They are her attempts at exposing the writing community she has come to know and love to her talent and love for poetry.

In Transition is her third collection and is anticipated for release July 2015.

GoodReads:  https://www.goodreads.com/KimberlyHartWrites

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Kimberly-Hart/e/B00XDHLJB6/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Links for more. and Behind Closed Doors:

more. – http://www.amazon.com/more-Kimberly-Hart-ebook/dp/B00JIUID0C

Behind Closed Doors – http://www.amazon.com/Behind-Closed-Doors-Kimberly-Hart-ebook/dp/B00PEQL2YI

Cover Reveal: The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart by AM Hargrove

The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart by A.M.
Hargrove
Genre: Romantic Suspense 
Release date: June 25, 2015
Cover Artist: A.M. Hargrove
 “Hello, my name is
Kade Hart and I’m a drug addict.” Isn’t that what recovering addicts are
supposed to say?
  Hell if
I know. I
m not
sure about
 anything anymore. Not
since I met her.
 Juliette. She’s my game-changer.  
I’ve lived on the streets, been in places no one ever wants to
see, survived pure hell with the bastard who raised me. I thought I’d finally
managed to put all that behind me, come to terms with who and what I am. Until
she walked into my life.
 Shes running from the people who
slaughtered her family, people who want her dead, too, and she makes me want to
be the kind of man who can protect her, who can save her.
 But I’m not sure Im that guy. I’m no one’s hero.  
Or am I?
 One day, on her way home from work as a sales
manager, A. M. Hargrove, realized her life was
 on fast forward and
if she didn’t do something soon, it would quickly be too late to write that
work
 of fiction she had been dreaming of her whole
life. So, she rolled down the passenger window of
 her fabulous (not)
company car and tossed out her leather briefcase. Luckily, the pedestrian in
the
 direct line of fire was a dodge ball pro and had
über quick reflexes enabling him to avoid getting
 bashed in the head.
Feeling a tad guilty about the near miss, A. M. made a speedy turn down a
 deserted side street before tossing her crummy, outdated
piece-of-you-know-what laptop out the
 window. She breathed
a liberating sigh of relief, picked up her cell phone, called her boss, and
 quit her job. Grinning, she made another call to her hubs and
told him of her new adventure (after
 making sure his
heart was beating properly again).

So began A. M. Hargrove’s career as a Naughty and Nice Romance Author. Her
books include the following: Edge of Disaster, Shattered Edge and
Kissing Fire (The Edge Series); The Guardians of
 Vesturon Series
(Survival, Resurrection, Determinant, reEmergent, and Beginnings); Dark Waltz,
 Death Waltz, Tragically Flawed (Tragic 1), Tragic Desires
(Tragic 2), Exquisite Betrayal, Dirty
 Nights; and lastly
Freeing Her, Freeing Him, and Kestrel
all part of the Hart
Brothers Series.

Other than being in love with writing about love, she loves chocolate, ice
cream, and coffee and is positive they should be added as part of the
USDA food groups.

 
 
 

Release Day Blitz: Always Yours, Baby by Airicka Phoenix

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Today is the release day blitz for ALWAYS YOURS, BABY by Airicka Phoenix. This is a new adult, standalone novel that is the 4th book in The Baby Saga. Check out the materials below for buy links, an excerpt, and a giveaway!

The Baby Saga 14(1)

AlwaysYours

Title: Always Yours, Baby
Author: Airicka Phoenix
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance
Series: The Baby Saga
Series Number: #4

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BOOK BLURB:

How could someone so pure want filth like him?

Damon Comb was no stranger to pain, hunger, loneliness, and abandonment. Being given a family that would die for one another didn’t erase six years of torture. It didn’t take away the nightmares. She did. She was everything someone like him should never be allowed. She was goodness and strength and she made him human.

How could someone so broken complete her?

Willa McClain had it all, a family that adored each other, the love of an entire town and a future she worked her butt off to get. But all she wanted was the boy with the sad blue eyes and the crooked smile. He was her best friend, her protector and the only one who really understood her.

How could a love like theirs be extinguished?

But nothing ever lasted forever. Damon knew better than anyone how quickly the tides could change. Can he keep his past at bay before it consumes the only light in his dark world? Can he finally tell Willa the truth, or will his fears tear them apart forever?

How could love so strong ever fail?

couple in love on the beach in autumnThe Baby Saga Twitter Banner 2

EXCERPT:

She beamed, but it didn’t go all the way to her eyes like it normally would. There were lingering fingers of shadow along the edges that prickled his attention.

“What?”

“Does it feel different?” she asked.

He hooked her hair with a finger and dragged them back behind her ear.

“Does what feel different?”

“Us,” she whispered. “I feel like it should feel different, but I feel the same.”

He hummed quietly, knowing full well what she meant.

“How do you want to feel?”

“Like this,” she said immediately, eyes growing urgent. “I love the way I feel when I’m with you. I don’t ever want that to change. But I have been so scared for so long that I just … I wasn’t expecting to feel exactly how I always felt.”

He let his fingers ghost along the elegant curve of her brow, down the lines of her face to the hollow of her cheek. He watched as her eyes closed and her head tilted into the touch.

“How have you always felt?” he wondered, his voice constricting with the band that had tightened around his chest at the simple gesture.

“Loved.” Her eyes opened and met his. “Wanted, happy, excited. A little sad.”

He felt his muscles stiffen at the confession. “Why sad?”

“Because I know one lifetime with you won’t be enough and it kills me.” Her eyes bore into his, reflecting the fear she spoke of. “I can’t lose you, Damon. I’d never survive.”

He kissed her gently on the mouth with one hand lifting up to cup the back of her head. He pulled back a second later before caution could be thrown to the winds and he started something he would be powerless to stop.

“You will never lose me,” he promised. “I won’t ever let that happen.”

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BUY LINKS:

For a limited time you can get ALWAYS YOURS, BABY, and the rest of The Baby Saga for just .99¢ each!

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PURCHASE THE PREVIOUS BOOKS IN THE SERIES

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Forever His Baby *Sloan & Lily* (Book 1):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/syIa8C

iBooks: http://goo.gl/lOZ7RW

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/Q6GRZB

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/nqrsaH

Bye-Bye Baby *Cole & Beth* (Book 2):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/5uX19t

iBooks: http://goo.gl/QydkSn

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/CZIFA3

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/M2Dutw

Be My Baby *Calla & Jared* (Book 3):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/nDgRIa

iBooks: http://goo.gl/H88IMk

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/EWpDvs

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/7EU3BW

Teaser 6

a Rafflecopter giveaway
AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Airicka PhoenixBIO:

Airicka Phoenix is a romance junkie with an incurable addiction to chocolate. She is also a prolific author of several novels written for young adult and new adult romance addicts who love bad boys, hot kisses and a gritty plot. Airicka prides herself in producing quality material her readers can fall in love with again and again.

When she’s not hard at work bleeding words onto paper, Airicka can be found cuddling with her family, reading, watching TV shows, or just finding excuses not to do chores.

Be the first for giveaways, teasers and upcoming releases by joining Airicka’s newsletter on her website www.AirickaPhoenix.com

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website: www.AirickaPhoenix.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/VgLqD

Facebook: http://goo.gl/eYXrrh

Twitter: http://goo.gl/yoVWYF (@AirickaPhoenix)

Goodreads: http://goo.gl/HGVszf

Google+: http://goo.gl/wgdslQ

Instagram: http://goo.gl/QRmqdy

Pinterest: http://goo.gl/Y5AOQq
Amazon: http://goo.gl/Nq57nJ

z-InkSlinger Blogger

Cover Reveal: The Barrier Between by Stacey Marie Brown

Add it on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25390584-the-barrier-between

Release Date: June 2015

Zoey’s life has taken a dramatic turn. Only a few months ago she was a Collector working for the a secret part of the government called the Department of Molecular Genetics (DMG), tracking and collecting fae. Her life had been changing and improving with a partner she loved and a sister she adored.

Now all that is gone—Daniel murdered by a fae, and Lexi killed when the Seattle area is devastated by a powerful, magical electrical storm. Zoey herself is altered by her association with the Wanderer, Ryker, in life-changing way.

Zoey discovered she was an experiment from the very company she worked for. She could die at any moment of a threatening defect—taking Ryker’s magic with her.

In a race against time, Ryker and Zoey set out to find a way to transfer his powers back before it’s too late. Their journey takes them to the rainforests of South America, dealing with those who are after something Ryker possesses and who will stop at nothing to obtain it for themselves.

What Zoey and Ryker discover can destroy them or tear them a part for good.

Purchase the first book in the Collector’s Series!

Purchase on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1CuVS00

Purchase on B&N: http://bit.ly/1cLZC3i

Purchase on iBooks: http://apple.co/1zVbgmq

Zoey Daniels has been tossed from foster home to foster home, where she grows up fast and tough. When she is placed in her “last-chance” home, she finds a reason to stay and turn her life around: her foster sister, Lexie, who is paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair. Zoey will do anything to keep her safe.

After high school, Zoey is hired by a special government agency, the Department of Molecular Genetics (DMG), where she meets the other reason to remain: Daniel, her co-worker. The man she loves.

But there is something unique about Zoey. She can see fae. Because of this, the DMG hires her to work as a Collector: catching, researching, testing, and using the fae to save human lives. The work never registers on her sympathy radar. She was raised to think of fae as beasts that feed on humans and want to destroy them.

When devastation hits Seattle, Zoey’s whole world is turned upside down. The electric storm connects her to a ruthless fae, a Wanderer named Ryker, whose dealings expose them to even more trouble and danger. They embark on a journey, running and hiding from both the government and fae, both of which threaten their lives and those they love.

About Stacey Marie Brown

Website Facebook Twitter

Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and sarcastic heroines who kick butt. She also enjoys books, travel, TV shows, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Stacey swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.

She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts. She volunteers helping animals and is eco-friendly. She feels all animals, people, and environment should be treated kindly.

Cover Reveal: Always Yours, Baby by Airicka Phoenix

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Today we are revealing the cover for ALWAYS YOURS, BABY by Airicka Phoenix. This is a new adult, standalone novel that is part of The Baby Saga. The book will be released on Monday, May 25th.

AlwaysYoursAdd ALWAYS YOURS, BABY to Goodreads

BOOK BLURB:

How could someone so pure want filth like him?

Damon Comb was no stranger to pain, hunger, loneliness, and abandonment. Being given a family that would die for one another didn’t erase six years of torture. It didn’t take away the nightmares. She did. She was everything someone like him should never be allowed. She was goodness and strength and she made him human.

How could someone so broken complete her?

Willa McClain had it all, a family that adored each other, the love of an entire town and a future she worked her butt off to get. But all she wanted was the boy with the sad blue eyes and the crooked smile. He was her best friend, her protector and the only one who really understood her.

How could a love like theirs be extinguished?

But nothing ever lasted forever. Damon knew better than anyone how quickly the tides could change. Can he keep his past at bay before it consumes the only light in his dark world? Can he finally tell Willa the truth, or will his fears tear them apart forever?

How could love so strong ever fail?

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000039_00005]Teaser 3

PURCHASE THE PREVIOUS BOOKS IN THE SERIES

AY_BabySeries

Forever His Baby *Sloan & Lily* (Book 1):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/syIa8C

iBooks: http://goo.gl/lOZ7RW

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/Q6GRZB

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/nqrsaH

Bye-Bye Baby *Cole & Beth* (Book 2):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/5uX19t

iBooks: http://goo.gl/QydkSn

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/CZIFA3

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/M2Dutw

Be My Baby *Calla & Jared* (Book 3):

Amazon us: http://goo.gl/nDgRIa

iBooks: http://goo.gl/H88IMk

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/EWpDvs

Smashwords: http://goo.gl/7EU3BW

Teaser 1

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Airicka PhoenixBIO:

Airicka Phoenix is a romance junkie with an incurable addiction to chocolate. She is also a prolific author of several novels written for young adult and new adult romance addicts who love bad boys, hot kisses and a gritty plot. Airicka prides herself in producing quality material her readers can fall in love with again and again.

When she’s not hard at work bleeding words onto paper, Airicka can be found cuddling with her family, reading, watching TV shows, or just finding excuses not to do chores.

Be the first for giveaways, teasers and upcoming releases by joining Airicka’s newsletter on her website www.AirickaPhoenix.com

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website: www.AirickaPhoenix.com

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/VgLqD

Facebook: http://goo.gl/eYXrrh

Twitter: http://goo.gl/yoVWYF (@AirickaPhoenix)

Goodreads: http://goo.gl/HGVszf

Google+: http://goo.gl/wgdslQ

Instagram: http://goo.gl/QRmqdy

Pinterest: http://goo.gl/Y5AOQq
Amazon: http://goo.gl/Nq57nJ

z-InkSlinger Blogger

Cover Reveal: Underground (New World #4) by Janelle Stalder

Underground (New World #4) by Janelle Stalder
Dystopia, New Adult
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Synopsis:
Love isn’t something you find.
Love is something that finds you.

Phoenix has spent her whole life fighting. All she’s ever wanted was to return the world to a peaceful state, and bring down the New World Order. But now she finds herself in a different sort of battle. No longer set in the streets of New Berlin, the fighting has moved beneath them, in a vicious underground fighting ring run by outlaws bent on causing trouble. And if that isn’t hard enough, she’s stuck with the one person who loves to fight more than she does – Trent McKay. Now the race is on to get out of their new prison and back home – before they end up killing each other.

Or worse – fall in love.

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Cover Reveal: The Beauty in Deception by Felicia Starr

The Beauty in Deception
by Felicia Starr
A Hawk Creek Novel
Release Day: May 19th, 2015
Cover Artist: Bookfabulous Designs
 
After years of tangled sheets with a series of one-night-stands and living under a whiskey-induced haze, Detective Dex Preston is constantly trying to cope with the pain and guilt of his past. His perpetual state of denial is interrupted by a disturbing string of horrific murders, thrusting him into a very bizarre case. Dex struggles to bring justice to the murdered women because every lead uncovered is tied to the women in his life. 

As the bodies pile up, Dex realizes his life will never be the same when he has an unexpected run-in with Trina Hayes, a snarky blonde who possesses the potential to break down the walls of his hardened heart. She alone can bring Dex face to face with two things he fears most—love and death. For the first time in years, he finds himself concerned about someone else, but she could be next on his killer’s list.

Dex knows he needs to find the killer even if he isn’t prepared for what unfolds next.
PROLOGUE:
One and a half years earlier.
EACH CORD OF TRINA’S ABDOMINAL muscles flexed with excruciating pain as she struggled to raise herself to a sitting position. Her screams were so loud they numbed her ears. In fact, she wasn’t sure if the sounds that escaped her were real or in her mind. It didn’t matter because the guttural shrieks continued to echo off the dark brick walls surrounding her. The darkness made it impossible to make out any details, and her eyes struggled to focus as she tried to look down at her body
It wasn’t raining, but her clothes were soaked through and clinging to her skin with her every movement. Her hands trembled as she attempted to place them down on the hard pavement beneath her, and Trina rolled over onto all fours in an effort to find enough stability to get to her feet. Fatigued, her legs wobbled with the failed attempt at standing.
She wasn’t sure if she was crying, yet she felt hot, wet beads slithering down her cheeks as she tried crawling down the deserted alley toward the lights of the random passing cars.
One hand in front of the other. Keep moving. Don’t stop!
She forced her nearly broken body to push through the pain to get to the light. Small bits of gravel dug into hands and knees, causing her to flinch so hard that her knee buckled underneath her. Her shoulder crashed agonizingly down onto the ground.
“Ahy!” The bellow came from a place deep within her gut. “Help me!”
Her cries went unanswered. Curling up in the fetal position, she rocked herself back and forth. The pain, confusion, and uncertainty of what had happened to her haunted every corner of her mind.
Trina never left the house without her purse or her phone. The realization that they must be somewhere in reach gave her an inkling of hope—unless she’d been mugged. Without any recollection of the preceding events, she couldn’t know if they were close by.
Trying to push up again, enough to search the ground around her, she dragged her body, scraping the last layer of flesh from her forearms.
The sheath of salty liquid that filled her eyes impaired her sight even more, and while her vision was finally starting to adjust to the darkness, she still couldn’t make out where she was. Sliding her palms out in front of her and to the sides, she searched for something, praying that she would either find her phone, or someone would hear her cries for help.
Her hand made contact with something soft, and thinking she had found her purse, a sigh of relief washed over her. However, when she attempted to pull it closer, it barely budged. Trina yanked again, but instead of it sliding in her direction, the weight of what she held onto pulled her forward.
Her hands still shook as she apprehensively stretched her arms out, feeling and searching to identify what she was touching. The object was rounded, like a log, but with a softness that started to concern her.
Her chest tightened, and she felt her brow cinch. She pulled herself up to a sitting position and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand before proceeding.
She held her breath, not wanting her hands to confirm her fear of what it was.
She couldn’t really see, so she slammed her eyes shut and pulled her lips between her teeth, biting down on them as she searched the darkness in front of her. The cylindrical object was attached to something larger, and she felt the wet fabric that coated another body.
Frantically, she felt for the chest. The soft mounds of flesh that her hands skimmed over indicated that it was a female.
“Hello!” She shook the body. “Are you okay? Hello?”
No response.
“You have to wake up!” She continued to shake the body as she screamed out, “Oh God!”
She felt the body again. Slowing her pace, Trina released her hold on the limp arm. Her hands shook so hard that she felt the vibration coursing through them.
She didn’t want to know, yet she had to be sure. Her hand slowly approached the, stopping on her chest. There was no upward movement, and she forced her hand to the face to feel for a breath, but there was nothing.
“Oh. Fuck. Oh God! No!” She couldn’t, but she had to continue. She took the arm into her lap and felt for a pulse, but again, there was nothing. Trina pushed the arm off her and scooted back. “Help!” her throat scratched out. “Please! Help!”
The dark alley brightened ever so slightly, and she looked up and saw lights flicker on in more than one window. She yelled again, hoping that they heard her.
“Help me! Call the police!” Her screams continued, over and over again, until her throat wouldn’t allow it anymore.
 

It felt like an eternity that she sat there, crying out for help. Her body quivered from shock, fear, and the chill of the night on her wet clothing. Trina was alone, next to the body of a faceless woman who was not lucky enough to still have her life.
The sirens in the distance grow louder as they approached, and Trina tucked her head into her knees and held on for dear life. Sobbing, she rocked herself back and forth.
The vehicles she’d heard screeched to a sudden stop, at what was most likely, the end of the alley. She didn’t want to lift her head to look. It hurt too much. At last, she could see the flashing blue and red lights illuminating the backs of her eyelids. 
Several sets of footsteps pounded the pavement in her direction, and she listened to the familiar sounds of clinking and heavy leather belts rubbing against the legs of the approaching officers. It was a sound she wasn’t sure she welcomed. She discerned the unsnapping of the gun holsters, counting at least three. There may have been more disguised by the sound of slides racking and the rounds being chambered in their standard issue Glock 45s.
The static sound of a radio switched on and off. “We have some kind of two-forty. Possible one-eighty-seven.”
Ckkshsh… “Ten-four. Are you in need of an eleven-forty?”
“Yes, eleven-forty-one. You might want to send over two buses. ASAP!” Ckshhhh.
The static cut in and out as the man’s voice grew louder. Trina knew he was confirming that they needed an ambulance.
“Police! Hands up!”
Trina could sense that the officers were slowly getting closer to her, but their voices sounded as if they were miles away. Their words were muffled by the sounds of her whimpering.
“We are approaching you with our guns drawn. Please show us your hands!” The voice was loud and demanding. “We are here to help you, but we need you to show us your hands.”
“Sir?” a woman’s voice trailed behind him.
“I see it, Clark. Fall back and get some blankets and a first aid kit. I already called in a bus.”
The man’s voice was almost on top of her. Trina heard what he said, but she was about as frozen as a person who couldn’t stop shaking could be.
“Ma’am, I am approaching you. Please, if you can hear me, please show me your hands. Are you injured?”
In Trina’s mind, she could see herself releasing her legs and showing him her hands, but she couldn’t connect the command to the action.
A second set of footsteps and the clambering of a gun belt rattled around behind her, and a sudden shot of pain on her shoulder jolted Trina into motion. She was too disoriented to realize someone had put their hand on her shoulder.
“Take it easy.”
The man was no longer raising his voice, and she could feel him beside her.
“Here you go, sir,” the female officer’s voice sounded.
“I am going to put this blanket around you. My name is Officer O’Neil.”
He draped the blanket over her shoulders, and the pressure from the shroud felt like pins and needles on her flesh. She wasn’t sure if it was from an injury, or if her skin was so cold that it had become numb.
“Can you tell us your name?” he asked.
She slowly lifted her head. The intensity of the flashlights assaulted her eyes, causing her to blink repeatedly. Trying to focus was a struggle.
“Trina, Trina Hayes,” her voice was just a whisper.
“Trina, can you tell me what happened here?” O’Neil questioned.
“Sir, we have a DOA here. The bus should be here any minute.”
“DOA?” Trina’s voice cracked.
With trepidation, her head turned to the officer who had said it. She looked at his face and couldn’t help but think of how young he appeared. He must have been in his early twenties, but he looked like an oversized teenager.
How she wished she had kept her eyes on him instead of investigating her surroundings.
Her eyes fell down hard on a blood soaked body, only inches from where she sat. She scanned the woman’s figure quickly, looking for injuries, and most importantly, her identity. Was it someone she knew?
Trina’s hand escaped the shroud of fabric that was draped over her shoulders to cover her mouth as she gasped for air. She tried to back away, but she collided with Officer O’Neil.
“Do you know her?” he asked.
Trina turned into him and shook her head. He put his arm around her but did not squeeze her into an embrace. There was nothing personal about it, just a reassurance that she was in safe arms.
“The first bus is here, sir.” Clark called over to O’Neil.
“Okay, let’s get the squad over here and see if we can move Miss Hayes. Smith, you call in for the medical examiner to get down here.” He commanded the two other officers that were standing beside the body, “Do a sweep of the area and tape off the scene.”
“Miss Hayes, this is Officer Clark, I am going to have her ask you a few questions while the rescue squad checks you for injuries. I will be right here if you have any questions.”
“No,” she pulled on his arm as she looked up at him for the first time, “stay. You can ask me the questions.”
The pupils of his eyes were so big they looked black. His head was clean-shaven, and he wore a thick mustache over his top lip. She almost laughed to herself. He looked like a cop, one with the shoulders of a linebacker.
“If you insist.” He rearranged his feet, so he could balance in a squatting position off to her side, leaving enough room for the medic to get in and do a quick assessment of her before they took her to the hospital. “Can you tell me what happened here tonight?”
“No. What time is it?”
“It is currently three am. What are you doing out at this hour?”
“I’m not sure. The last thing I recall is laying on the couch to catch up on my DVR list. I don’t even remember leaving the house.”
“So… are you telling me that you were taken from your home?” O’Neil asked.
“I don’t think that is what I am telling you. I am telling you that I don’t remember anything after that. I would assume that I must have dozed off.”
The medic flashed a light in front of her eyes, asking her to follow the beam, and grasped her wrist to check her heart rate.
“Excuse me, officer. Ma’am, I need you to remove the blanket, so I can see your arms and legs. Can you tell me where the pain is coming from?”
“Everywhere.” Trina tossed back the blanket and looked down at her clothes. The last she recalled, she’d had on matching thermals with tiny flowers on them. She now wore jeans and what had once been a white sweater. It was torn through on the sleeves and covered in dirt and blood—a lot of blood.
“Whose…?” Her hand shook as she lifted it to touch her stomach. “Whose blood is this?”
 
 
Add to your GOODREADS list.
 
 




Romance writer Felicia Starr was born and raised in New Jersey. She has been an avid traveller starting at a young age taking magical adventures exploring scenic and historic sites across America with her grandparents. Lover of almost all things paranormal and science fiction, yes that includes fantasy and no it does not include movies about giant ice spiders.
 
Her days are spent counting down the minutes until her next cup of coffee, preferably with a caramel swirl, her nights are filled with reading and quiet meditations drawing inspirations for her stories.
 
Felicia has been writing in one form or another for as long as she can remember and still has her first bound book that she wrote and illustrated in grade school. When not wrapped up in writing or reading she is finding the next best way to create lasting memories with her husband and sons.
 
Reading for fun, writing for passion… always thinking and dreaming in scenes.

Re-Cover Reveals: The Harvest Saga by Casey L. Bond

Thanks so much for checking out the blog today! Casey L. Bond is revealing brand new covers for her Harvest Saga trilogy! Check these bad boys out.

The covers were designed by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs.
Cover photography by Mandy Hollis of MHPhotography.
Cover models are Mandy Hollis and Amee Thompson.

If you’re interested in reading Reap, here are the links:

REAP

If you’re interested in reading Resist, here are the links:

RESIST

Reclaim is currently being edited. A release date will be announced very soon.

When Reclaim is released, the boxed set will also be released! Isn’t it pretty?

Thank you so much for checking out the blog today! If you want to go stalker on Casey, just follow her at the links below!

Casey L. Bond resides in West Virginia
with her husband and their two beautiful daughters. When she’s not busy being a
domestic goddess and chasing her baby girls, she loves to write young adult and
new adult fiction.
You can find more information about
Bond’s books via the following links:
Twitter:
@authorcaseybond                
Connect on tsu,
Instagram, Google+ and LinkedIn!
Available
or Soon-To-Be Released Books:
Winter Shadows
Pariah, Book 1 in The New Covenant
Series
Paradox, Book 2, The New Covenant Series
Devil Creek
Shady Bay
Reap, Book 1 in The Harvest Saga
Resist, Book 2 in The Harvest Saga
Reclaim, Book 3 in The Harvest Saga
Sin (Serial Series)
Light in the Darkness (YA Anthology)
Fractured Glass (Novel Anthology)
Crazy Love
Dark Bishop
(Serial Series)
Prep For Doom (Dystopian Anthology)
Catalyst 
Temptation (Serial Series)
Water Witch
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