Friday, 30 January 2015

A Great Review




This review came in from a lady who has so far read and loved all of my books, but this one was special for her because she got to read it at an early stage, when it was just an android with barely any skin...


Ever wanted to build the perfect guy? Change that nose a bit, raise that droopy ear, and maybe add a few inches in the right place(s)? Zaphira gets to do that and more to the android version of Aiden, the geeky science boy who was her father’s assistant and the secret teenage crush who broke her heart. Of course all that was eight years ago and he, along with everyone else was now dead. Except her. Which meant she was alone until something comes bubbling out of her stream one day. Except his eyes are a different color – different colors, in fact. And he has more muscles. Confused? So was she. That’s what happens when you start talking about time travel.

Zaphira’s scientist father promised her that there were going to be other survivors from this terrible plague and that in time, they would come. But she has been alone for so long now, she isn’t sure that she believes anymore, until Android Aiden shows up. Apparently he was sent from the future to help her. But she isn’t sure that she needs his or anyone’s help. She plants a garden and uses a bow and arrow to take down an animal so she can eat and so her dogs can have meat. The skin keeps her warm and preserving things means she has meat and vegetables to last through the cold. So how exactly is this geeky science guy going to help her?

In this fun, quirky, sweet, erotic and very entertaining novella Diane Saxon shows us her talent for writing strong, likeable characters no matter who made their skin! The way she blends the science effortlessly into this story – along with a bit of a lesson to those who will listen – is a mark of a true storyteller. The differences she emphasizes in each of them, as they have grown (Zaphira is 8 years older in this reality) or been genetically altered (Aiden’s eye color now changes according to his mood) enables the reader to insert themselves into the story alongside Zaphira or Aiden and experience the rush of lust or heart-stopping fear or any of the other emotions these two go through.
I am a huge fan of Diane’s other books and for me, the things I love about those are here in this one as well.

Amazon title – Fun, quirky, sweet, erotic and very entertaining novella. Added at end - A solid 4.5 stars (rounded up for amazon)!

B&N - A solid 4 stars!

Saturday, 24 January 2015

WHITE OUT - AMBER LEA EASTON



She's been erased.

As a protected witness, Brandi Simms has given up everything that made her unique to start over in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Blending into the background isn't easy, but it's vital for survival. When her handsome yet incorrigible neighbor—former Olympic skier turned cowboy—decides her aloof attitude is a challenge rather than a deterrent, she knows the only right thing to do is resist.

The secrets she hides are deadly.

Ryan Landry isn't accustomed to rejection. Three-time Olympic Gold Medalist, he's the local hero who came home to run a ranch and be near his family. The mysterious neighbor who seems content to hang out with dogs rather than humans haunts his fantasies and ignites that competitive drive that led him to the world stage.

He's not one to give up.

When her dangerous past catches up to Brandi, Ryan is determined to break through her secrets to find the truth no matter what the cost. Trapped in a whiteout blizzard with unseen threats lurking in the snow, will they get a chance to create a new beginning or will Brandi's past be the death of them?

Buy links:
Amazon All Countries: 





Barnes and Noble: http://goo.gl/udusZM


Author Bio:
Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction author. Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female characters who have their flaws and challenges but ultimately persevere. She currently has seven contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels out in the world: Kiss Me Slowly, Riptide, Reckless Endangerment, Anonymity, In Between, Dancing Barefoot, and White Out. Her memoir, Free Fall, is dedicated to suicide prevention, awareness, and helping others navigate the dark journey of grief.

In addition, Easton works as an editor, freelance journalist, and professional speaker. She speaks on subjects ranging from writing to widowhood. Some of her videos on romance writing have appeared on the international Writers & Authors television network. Current radio appearances are linked via her author website, http://www.amberleaeaston.com.

Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado Rocky Mountains where she gives thanks daily for the gorgeous view outside her window. She finds inspiration from traveling, the people she meets, nature and life’s twists and turns. At the end of the day, as long as she's writing, she considers herself simply to be "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."




Excerpt


She wanted to tell him everything right then and there despite Jerome's words of caution. The need for someone not paid to protect her to know her real identity burst inside her like an overinflated balloon.
Fear thudded hard against the inside of her chest. It wouldn't matter how many sheriffs or marshals or angels themselves protected her; if Donovan had indeed come for her, she'd be dead before tomorrow morning. And no one would know, not one person from her past or anyone in her present. She'd simply vanish again, maybe she'd come up in conversation here and there about the odd woman who disappeared yet again, but there'd be no funeral or heartfelt eulogies for her.
No one in the present knew her real name.
No one in her past would know what she'd sacrificed to save them.
"Don't you ever worry about your horses?" she blurted out, hoping to alleviate the tension with some small talk.
"Nope. Jamie and Sheryl live in the small house on my property. It's all good."
"You rescue them, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. I take in the worst cases, rehab them, and hopefully give them a peaceful life as tour guides." He shifted his weight, one hand on the steering wheel and the other reaching for hers.
"I like it here in Steamboat," she said, fighting back the tears that blurred her vision. Looking out the window so he wouldn't see her face, she sighed. "It's a far cry from the life I used to live, but I like it."
"What kind of life did you used to live?"
"It was exciting as hell," she admitted with a smile. "I had it all, everything I'd ever dreamed of having, it was all mine. Do you know that myth about the man who flew too close to the sun? Icarus? Maybe I was like that. I burned hot for a long time before..." she stopped herself and looked at him, "Sorry. I'm ruining the mood."
"I know what you mean." He shrugged. "I flew too close to the sun, too, but damn it was fun."
She laughed at his observation and appreciated that he didn't press her for more details. "Oh, yeah. It really was."
"My ex and I were never meant to be married. We were young, but wanted different things. Mainly, she wanted a different man, but we had a good time. We should have kept it in the dating realm, I suppose." He shook his head with a grin. "Flying too close to the sun...that's a good way to put it."
Snow fell harder as the wind picked up. Streams of white blew horizontally in front of the headlights.
"Do you think they've already closed Rabbit Ears' Pass?" she asked.
"It's possible. They're predicting several feet of powder before it's all said and done. Bad news for the tourists who aren't already settled, I suppose."
"Good news for us."
Time, a good whiteout blizzard could buy her time.
Or become her tomb.
She rubbed her fingers over her forehead and exhaled a long sigh.
Maybe the whole I-want-to-be-bait idea had been ridiculous. Who was she to go up against a mass murderer?
"Yeah, they'll close the pass for sure if the snow keeps up this pace, especially at the higher elevations," he said.
He slowed down as they entered main street Steamboat. Lights had been stretched across the road and wound over each tree and storefront. They glowed with holiday perfection as tourists walked the sidewalks beneath them. A horse drawn carriage pulled out in front of them with tourists huddled beneath fur blankets and laughing at the beauty around them. 
She envied their joy as they laughed together, a family of four on vacation. So simple yet something she doubted she'd ever experience.
"What are you doing for Christmas? You should come with me to my brother's house, hear all the lies about my youth." He grinned as he put the truck in park.
"Oh, no, that's okay. I have plans." Hanging out with US Marshalls and FBI agents, you know, those kind of plans.
"Are you finally going to decorate your tree?" He undid his seatbelt without looking at her.
On impulse, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him across the space separating them. If she only had one night left to live—which was a definite possibility—then she wanted to go out on her terms.
"I was a pretty wild kid myself," she said against his lips, "and I used to get whatever I wanted. A real brat, I'm sure people would say. Right now...I want you and I'm happy that you're a stubborn ass who wouldn't stay away. I only hope you won't end up hating me when this is over."
She ground her mouth against his and surrendered to the lust that had been buried too long. The make-out session in the hot springs had been nice, but she wanted unrestrained passion and skin-on-skin contact. Tongues collided with one another as he leaned heavily against her, pressing her against the passenger door.
He shoved his hands into her hair and held her face close while his mouth devoured hers with equal force. Teeth captured her lower lip as he inched back from her face, conscious of them being parked on Main Street in front of busy sidewalk.
Frost lined the interior windows from their body heat.
"You're one helluva rollercoaster ride, babe. We keep making out in cars and public places, don't you think it's about time we take this to the next level? I'm a long way from a teenager and would like to make use of that king-size bed of yours."
"Oh, that's definitely on the agenda."
He kissed her again, slowly, eyes wide open and looking into hers. "Who are you really? I won't tell another living soul. I want to know your real name when I'm making love to you later."

She slid her tongue over his lips and reveled in the desire humming through her veins. The more she touched him, the more she craved.



Tuesday, 20 January 2015

NEW RELEASE - TYBURN, THE SOUTHWARK SAGA, BOOK 1 - JESSICA CALE




Tyburn
The Southwark Saga, Book 1
Author: Jessica Cale
Release Date: December 8th, 2014
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books

Tyburn Blurb:

Sally Green is about to die.

She sees Death in the streets. She can taste it in her gin. She can feel it in the very walls of the ramshackle brothel where she is kept to satisfy the perversions of the wealthy. She had come to London as a runaway in search of her Cavalier father. Instead, she found Wrath, a sadistic nobleman determined to use her to fulfill a sinister ambition. As the last of her friends are murdered one by one, survival hinges on escape.

Nick Virtue is a tutor with a secret. By night he operates as a highwayman, relieving nobles of their riches to further his brother’s criminal enterprise. It’s a difficult balance at the best of times, and any day that doesn’t end in a noose is a good one. Saving Sally means risking his reputation, and may end up costing him his life.

As a brutal attack throws them together, Sally finds she has been given a second chance. She is torn between the tutor and the highwayman, but she knows she can have neither. Love is an unwanted complication while Wrath haunts the streets. Nick holds the key to Wrath’s identity, and Sally will risk everything to bring him to justice.
      
Unless the gallows take her first.

Excerpt (Chapter 1):

Sally was there the day they hanged Claude Duval.
It was madness in the January snow, the stands filled to capacity and creaking beneath the weight of too many bodies. Spectators filled the pit surrounding the gallows shoulder to shoulder. The grounds were packed and still they let them in.
The usual families with picnic baskets were disappointed at the lack of open ground on which to lunch. The vendors had sold out of hot potatoes and cakes and stood uselessly between the stalls, their hands in their pockets to protect their profits from the Tyburn Blossoms, young pickpockets who could hear two pennies rub together at one hundred paces. Prostitutes of every age and disposition sauntered through the crowd, anticipating a very profitable day. At least a dozen apothecaries, sorcerers, and quacks waited at the base of the gallows, jars at the ready to collect pieces of the corpse.
There was magic in a dead man’s blood.
Claude’s execution was remarkable, not only for the falling snow that so seldom blanketed London, cold as it could be, but for the staggering number of ladies in attendance.
The pit swarmed with them. From fashionable residences in Leicester Fields and St. James they came, traveling all the way to Tyburn in private coaches and hired hacks, sacrificing their silk shoes to stand in the muddy snow. They must have ruined ten thousand pairs among them.
They chattered happily, trading daring stories of times Claude had robbed them of their jewels or better, some of them true, all of them embellished. They speculated as to how he was caught at long last, and bemoaned the loss of such a handsome face. Their fans churned their sighs and scent in a gale that assaulted Sally’s senses with the smell of lilies and idleness.
Why anyone would require a fan in January was beyond her. She pulled her ragged cloak closer around her shoulders to fend off the wet chill of the morning. The ladies, their dresses no doubt ordered for just this occasion, pouted and postured in plush fur capes, their little hands encased in gloves and muffs of sable and mink, impervious to the punishing cold.
Rounded cheeks flushed and eyes alight, they were quite breathless at the prospect of seeing Claude in person, deriving no little thrill from the knowledge that they were about to see him die.They gasped over copies of his “Last Dying Confession” so recently printed that the ink rubbed off on their gloves.
Sally hated every one of them.
They took up places that should have belonged to the people who knew him and loved him as she did, ragged wretches obliged to crowd outside of the gate, too poor to purchase a seat, or too late to find room to stand.
Sally had arrived hours early, standing in the cold in threadbare finery with an empty belly. She waited alone, not a blood-thirsty spectator or a sighing ninny, but a friend.
She had met Claude in Normandy when they were children, long before Charles had regained the throne, neither of them ever dreaming they would end up in England. They had been respectable in those days, but in the dank, stinking streets of London, Claude had become a robber and Sally a whore.
The crowd fell silent, parting as he rolled up in a lacquered cart behind an enormous black horse. Claude stood proudly in his long coat and wide-brimmed hat, hands tied behind his back.
The ladies collectively gasped.
The cart stopped abruptly. He gave a measured bow.
The crowd erupted in cheers. The woman beside her clapped wildly and reached out to him, her gentleman escort reddening.
Claude stepped off the cart and began his slow walk to the gallows.
He nodded and smiled pleasantly as he passed, greeting people and winking at the ladies. He was the very picture of a swaggering hero, handsome at twenty-seven, proud to meet his end among so many devotees.
Then he saw her.
His eyes were empty and his expression rigid. His pale, ghostly face belonged not to her first love, but to a man who had already died. He paused before her.
“Celestine.” He called her by her childhood pet name and ventured a sad smile. "Send me off right?"
Tears clouding her eyes, she took his cold face in his hands. He closed the distance between them with a chaste kiss.
Claude Duval, beloved of ladies everywhere, gave Sally his very last kiss.
It was the last kiss of a condemned man.
The woman beside Sally swooned into her escort’s arms. Several others whined in protest, ready to fling themselves at his boots if not for the watchful eyes of their husbands and guardians.
Claude felt their disappointment. Perhaps was afforded some satisfaction from it. As he continued forward, smiling at those he passed, Sally contemplated her fate. His kiss was cold as death and tasted of ashes on her lips.
A chill ran up her spine.
The horse beneath the gallows stomped impatiently, the falling snow melting into his glossy coat. Steam rose from his nostrils in great clouds, a promise of brimstone. As far away as she was, Sally could have sworn that horse was breathing down her neck.
It felt like a curse.
“Hats off!” someone bellowed, and the cry was repeated throughout the crowd until every hat had been removed. It was not a gesture of respect for Claude. They did it so everyone would have a good view.
At last at the gallows, Claude climbed onto the second cart. They removed his hat and lowered the noose around his strong neck. His face was blank. He gave one last devilish smile as the signal was given. The horse sprung into a trot and pulled the cart from beneath his feet. Sally looked away before he began to swing.
Claude.
She choked back a sob and forced her way back through the cheering crowd. He had marked her with that kiss, and she knew she would be next.

***

Buy it here:








Bio:

Jessica Cale is a historical romance author and journalist based in North Carolina. Originally from Minnesota, she lived in Wales for several years where she earned a BA in History and an MFA in Creative Writing while climbing castles and photographing mines for history magazines. She kidnapped (“married”) her very own British prince (close enough) and is enjoying her happily ever after with him in a place where no one understands his accent. You can visit her at www.authorjessicacale.com.

Links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JessicaCale @JessicaCale
Google+:  https://plus.google.com/u/0/+JessicaCaleWrites
Tumblr: http://authorjessicacale.tumblr.com/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9819997.Jessica_Cale



Sunday, 11 January 2015

Short Circuit Time - In The Beginning




In the beginning... well, I started as a contemporary romance writer, but I've always read across the genres. So I'm going to take you back to how it all started, and this was the first blog way back in July 2013.



So, this is how it happened. 

To tell the truth, I’m not quite sure how it happened, Allyson Lindt is responsible, without a shadow of a doubt.

You see, Allyson, challenged Eva to enter a competition and vis versa . Interesting, but did they take up the gauntlet? I may have – or may not have grabbed that gauntlet and run with it.  We will see. But that particular issue may be irrelevant at this point.  

And the point is that somehow, goaded by two enthusiastic authors, I challenged them to a competition:

THREE AUTHORS
THREE MONTHS
ONE BLOG POST EACH EVERY THREE WEEKS
ONE CHALLENGE

1.       The Authors
a.       Eva Lefoy
b.      Allyson Lindt
c.       Diane Saxon

2.       Three Months – ending 30th September 2013

3.       Each of us must write a blog to update our progress once every three weeks. Well, here’s my first one and I elect Eva to go next. Because Eva is talking, and she’s talking big.

The Challenge -A 15,000 word short story to be completed

   
MY BLOG

So. Here I am with zero words and not much of an idea apart from I need to write a story about an android. Because in the confusion, I elected the android.
Hmm, did I explain to the others that I’m a Contemporary Romance writer and I have no experience with androids? But I like cowboys so maybe a cowboy will be involved.

Never mind, I’m all over it. It will be contemporary, it will be romance and it will contain an android. But will it be finished?

Oh, did I explain? The winner is the one that finishes on time.

Next week, click on Eva – she’ll update you  - She may be out playing, it’s the 4th July. http://writery.wordpress.com/


Since then both Eva and Allyson published their short stories (Eva - Download My Love http://amzn.to/1C2ZNNZ & Allyson joined forces with the fabulous Sofia Grey to produce a compilation of short stories called Return to Emerald City http://amzn.to/1yTjLNs)

I, however, messed around for a little while because although I loved my story, I felt it needed a little more. So, I re-wrote it, expanded it to 23k words and sent it to Hartwood Publishing.

In the end, it wasn't a Contemporary Romance, it's a Dystopian, Time-Travel, Futuristic, Sci-fi Robot Romance.

... and the Winner is..?

All three of us, because we all finished The Challenge on time with the right word-count and we are all three now published.

So, to my lovely author buddies, THANK YOU. You were an inspiration.






Thursday, 8 January 2015

SHORT CIRCUIT TIME - RELEASE DAY




In the year 2086, Zaphira is alone, the last survivor of biological warfare on Earth. Before he died, her scientist father promised other survivors would come. Nobody has. So when a horribly mangled android shows up claiming to be her father’s assistant, Aiden, who has been sent through time to rescue her, she’s both frightened and astounded.
The last time she’d seen Aiden, she’d been sixteen, head-over-heels in love with him and had literally thrown herself at him, leaving her devastated by his rejection and him running for the hills. The following day, she’d been told of his death.
Eight years later he’s miraculously back, this time asking for her help. Without it, he won’t survive. But can she really put a dead man back together with tweezers?
For Aiden, everything has changed. There are no other humans, no government, and time travel has left his new android body unexpectedly weak and suffering from inexplicable genetic changes in eye and hair color, brought about by his molecular shake-up. Unbelievably, the scientist who sent him is dead, and he must rely on the scientist’s daughter to help him. A woman who he’s not so sure has his best interests at heart.
The last time he’d seen her, Zaphira had been a sixteen year old with a dangerous crush on him and he’d been rocked by the turmoil of his own feelings. Now she’s twenty four and literally holds his survival in her hands. Too bad everything he does and says seems to annoy her.
Trusting her might be his undoing. But he is left with no choice.
For Zaphira, getting used to the transformation of old Aiden to android Aiden requires a large mental leap. But when android Aiden starts to rebuild his human form to a new and improved standard, things start to get tricky.

The Aiden she loved as a little girl was her father’s nerdy assistant. The new Aiden is hot. But are her feelings as strong eight years later or are they simply a cherished memory?


Prologue

She narrowed her eyes and squinted at the skinny geek stumbling backward out of the passenger seat of her father’s car. She’d waited all day for the rumble of the engine of her daddy’s convertible. The old car had a distinct stutter and a sly rev she fantasized was because it had a mind of its own.

She smiled awkwardly, her mouth pulled tight across her braces and she pressed her fingers over her top lip to stop it from catching on the edge, rolling and making her look like a feral cat. Her face ached. They’d tightened the braces again and it hurt so much more this time. The smile dropped from her lips only to ping back up again as the geek caught his shoe on some piece of equipment in the foot well of her daddy’s car. He flipped backward, his gangly arms pin wheeling until he landed on his ass on the floor, minus his shoe.

He whipped his head up and she stepped back from the window hoping he hadn’t heard her girlish giggles. He wouldn’t be impressed. He was so much older and more mature.

Not many would believe he was twelve years her senior. Not with his thick russet hair falling in a boyish flop over his forehead, his fine gold-rimmed glasses perched right on the end of his nose.
Her heart fluttered in her chest as she chanced another peek.

His arms full of equipment, flushed to his hairline, he staggered toward the front door of her home. Adrenaline pumped hot through her veins. She took a few skips toward the hallway, ran back to the window to see her father’s car pulling away from the curbside. Her mother was out. She was the only one there to open the door. She darted back, hesitated, her pulse thrumming in the base of her throat.

A dull thud shuddered the door in its frame and she shot forward, wrenched it open before he did any further damage. His shoulder slid across the oak panel and he shot sideways through the entrance, his skinny limbs racing to keep up with the speed of his body, but to no avail. His foot skidded and down he went. The clatter of laboratory equipment skidding across the wooden floor filled her ears as did his quiet Irish curse.

“Bollocks.”

Stifling another snigger, she crouched to help, casting furtive little glances at him as he came to his knees, straightened his waistcoat and touched his fingers to his bow tie, ensuring it was still there.

“Hi Aiden.”

His deep frown almost made her stutter, but she knew he couldn’t sustain his annoyance. His small nervous cough made her smile.

“Hey.” The sound of his soft, smooth voice made her light-headed and she stopped what she was doing to gaze deep into his eyes.

He pushed his glasses further up his nose and glared at her. Unperturbed, she met his beautiful gaze with a lovesick one of her own.

“Do you need a hand down to the lab?” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. Her speech lisped embarrassingly through her clenched together teeth. She hated her braces, couldn’t wait to have them removed.

“No.”

Not wanting him to go yet, she piled another few items on top of the ones already in his arms and resisted the urge to stroke her fingers along the sleeve of his tweed jacket.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“Zaphira…” he sighed, “Thank you, but no. I have work your father wants me to complete. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Her chest ached. Just a little. The same as it always ached when he rejected her offers.

She bent to pick up Paco, her new puppy, snuggled her face into his thick fur and took comfort from his squirming, plump body as she hugged him close and let him lick sweet kisses across her chin.
Aiden paused at the lab door then glanced at her over his shoulder and her heart hitched again. There. It was there, the glint in his eye. The one that told her every time she was about to give up that there was a spark of interest. There was hope.


Buy the Book

Monday, 5 January 2015

To Eternity - Daisy Banks



A Happy New Year to you and all your readers. Thank you so much for hosting me and helping me celebrate the release of my new book To Eternity, the second book in the Timeless series.

The development of the story from Timeless into this next book To Eternity challenged me as a writer in so many ways, but I loved the characters and they helped me through.
I hope those of you who enjoyed meeting Magnus and Sian in Timeless will enjoy this next step in their story.  I hope those of you meeting them for the first time in To Eternity will want to find out about their past in Timeless.

I am presently in the process of writing Out of Time, Book Three in the series and hope to have it completed this year.

To Eternity-wild beneath the moon- Book Two in the Timeless Series

Blurb

For four centuries Magnus has lived according to the dictates of the moon, his heart isolated by the domination of his wolf nature. Now fate has brought the beautiful, independent Sian to his house at Darnwell and their irresistible attraction has exploded into a white-hot passion. Yet she is not wolf, and the time has come for her to embrace the change. But once she completes the ritual and claims her place next to Magnus, the rivals will appear on the horizon…

Excerpt

Thank God. No claws.
Magnus examined his hand, a man’s hand, before he clasped Sian’s offered palm and met the massive dark pupils in her gaze as she set the padlock down. Naked, grimed by the process of transformation, he used her help to haul himself up from the floor.
She slipped the silver necklace with the key to his chains inside her shirt.
He grimaced as he wiped the scraps of crusty dust left after his transformation from his arms. October’s full moon had proved nothing like the last. This time there was no delightful shared dream.
Instead, Sian had met more of the wolf he carried within him.
Heaven help him, tonight she bore an injury to attest an encounter he couldn’t recall.
God.
He gritted his teeth. His gaze fixed on her. “What happened?” He nodded to her bandaged arm dreading her answer. “How did you get hurt?”
“Here, Magnus.” Sian draped a warm robe around his shoulders. “I’m fine.” She glanced to her arm. “This, it’s not more than a scratch.”
He staggered away from the cage, where the beast spent his days, leaning on her for support. “I scratched you?” he managed to ask, begging for confirmation of his fears.
“It was my fault. I got too close to the bars. We’ll get you to the bathroom, then I’ll go make us something to eat.”
He dragged one slow step after another. Sian slipped her arm around his waist, and with her help, he made it along the corridor to the bathroom. She opened the faucet on the bath while he drank two glasses of water. All the time, he kept his gaze on her.
 “You bathe, I’ll go cook. Please, Magnus, don’t worry.” She smiled. “We’ve survived this month’s full moon.”
He ached to kiss her, but not like this, not with the grime of transformation ingrained on his skin. She deserved better. Sian—his goddess, the woman he’d die to protect—deserved the best he could give her. “We’ll talk after I bathe.”
She nodded so her thick brandy-colored curls moved to lure his fingers. “Yes. Don’t be troubled.”
Reaching out, he touched the bandage on her forearm. She winced.
“Impossible,” he whispered. “I adore you, but I’ve hurt you.”
“It’s not what you fear. I remain mortal.”
“That’s how I want you to be. How you should be.”
“Hmm.” She turned off the taps. “We have to make a decision, Magnus. I’d like us to decide soon. I can’t bear this. Everything would be solved if…”
“I know. After I bathe, you can tell me what happened while we eat.”
Sian placed a kiss on the end of her finger and pressed it to his lips before she left. His heart ached for her hopes, for her confidence that she could make all well. He dropped the grubby robe, climbed into the tub, and closed his eyes. This full moon had pushed the usual boundaries. The additional power of Samhain seemed to have supercharged his appetite, but there was more than he’d anticipated. Though often he returned from transformation confused, his body still attuned to the senses of the wolf, this evening every muscle clenched tight, filled with lactic acid, as though he’d been rigid since Friday night when the full moon shifted his consciousness. Somehow, in his transformed state as the wolf, he’d spent hours fighting to keep himself still. The reason for such strange behavior in the beast eluded him.
He tilted his head back into the water, so the warmth might ease his corded neck muscles. The sensation of heat welcome, he sank lower in the tub until the water covered his hair. He hoped this would soothe his skin and his pain, but until he spoke with her about what had happened, nothing would pacify his fears. Annoyance that he couldn’t recall the acts of the beast swept through him. There had been times like this before. Even when he’d killed, a savage act any creature should remember, he could recollect nothing beyond the satisfaction of blood. But, if he’d harmed Sian, the wolf would have howled its sorrow until the walls echoed his repentance.
If only there were a way to force himself to remember. Truly, he was cursed.

To read more of Chapter 1 of To Eternity visit my blog



Buy Links



Daisy Banks Links
Twitter @DaisyBanks16
Facebook http://on.fb.me/18iRC35       




Sunday, 4 January 2015

SHORT CIRCUIT TIME - RELEASE DAY




In the year 2086, Zaphira is alone, the last survivor of biological warfare on Earth. Before he died, her scientist father promised other survivors would come. Nobody has. So when a horribly mangled android shows up claiming to be her father’s assistant, Aiden, who has been sent through time to rescue her, she’s both frightened and astounded.
The last time she’d seen Aiden, she’d been sixteen, head-over-heels in love with him and had literally thrown herself at him, leaving her devastated by his rejection and him running for the hills. The following day, she’d been told of his death.
Eight years later he’s miraculously back, this time asking for her help. Without it, he won’t survive. But can she really put a dead man back together with tweezers?
For Aiden, everything has changed. There are no other humans, no government, and time travel has left his new android body unexpectedly weak and suffering from inexplicable genetic changes in eye and hair color, brought about by his molecular shake-up. Unbelievably, the scientist who sent him is dead, and he must rely on the scientist’s daughter to help him. A woman who he’s not so sure has his best interests at heart.
The last time he’d seen her, Zaphira had been a sixteen year old with a dangerous crush on him and he’d been rocked by the turmoil of his own feelings. Now she’s twenty four and literally holds his survival in her hands. Too bad everything he does and says seems to annoy her.
Trusting her might be his undoing. But he is left with no choice.
For Zaphira, getting used to the transformation of old Aiden to android Aiden requires a large mental leap. But when android Aiden starts to rebuild his human form to a new and improved standard, things start to get tricky.

The Aiden she loved as a little girl was her father’s nerdy assistant. The new Aiden is hot. But are her feelings as strong eight years later or are they simply a cherished memory?


Prologue

She narrowed her eyes and squinted at the skinny geek stumbling backward out of the passenger seat of her father’s car. She’d waited all day for the rumble of the engine of her daddy’s convertible. The old car had a distinct stutter and a sly rev she fantasized was because it had a mind of its own.

She smiled awkwardly, her mouth pulled tight across her braces and she pressed her fingers over her top lip to stop it from catching on the edge, rolling and making her look like a feral cat. Her face ached. They’d tightened the braces again and it hurt so much more this time. The smile dropped from her lips only to ping back up again as the geek caught his shoe on some piece of equipment in the foot well of her daddy’s car. He flipped backward, his gangly arms pin wheeling until he landed on his ass on the floor, minus his shoe.

He whipped his head up and she stepped back from the window hoping he hadn’t heard her girlish giggles. He wouldn’t be impressed. He was so much older and more mature.

Not many would believe he was twelve years her senior. Not with his thick russet hair falling in a boyish flop over his forehead, his fine gold-rimmed glasses perched right on the end of his nose.
Her heart fluttered in her chest as she chanced another peek.

His arms full of equipment, flushed to his hairline, he staggered toward the front door of her home. Adrenaline pumped hot through her veins. She took a few skips toward the hallway, ran back to the window to see her father’s car pulling away from the curbside. Her mother was out. She was the only one there to open the door. She darted back, hesitated, her pulse thrumming in the base of her throat.

A dull thud shuddered the door in its frame and she shot forward, wrenched it open before he did any further damage. His shoulder slid across the oak panel and he shot sideways through the entrance, his skinny limbs racing to keep up with the speed of his body, but to no avail. His foot skidded and down he went. The clatter of laboratory equipment skidding across the wooden floor filled her ears as did his quiet Irish curse.

“Bollocks.”

Stifling another snigger, she crouched to help, casting furtive little glances at him as he came to his knees, straightened his waistcoat and touched his fingers to his bow tie, ensuring it was still there.

“Hi Aiden.”

His deep frown almost made her stutter, but she knew he couldn’t sustain his annoyance. His small nervous cough made her smile.

“Hey.” The sound of his soft, smooth voice made her light-headed and she stopped what she was doing to gaze deep into his eyes.

He pushed his glasses further up his nose and glared at her. Unperturbed, she met his beautiful gaze with a lovesick one of her own.

“Do you need a hand down to the lab?” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. Her speech lisped embarrassingly through her clenched together teeth. She hated her braces, couldn’t wait to have them removed.

“No.”

Not wanting him to go yet, she piled another few items on top of the ones already in his arms and resisted the urge to stroke her fingers along the sleeve of his tweed jacket.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“Zaphira…” he sighed, “Thank you, but no. I have work your father wants me to complete. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Her chest ached. Just a little. The same as it always ached when he rejected her offers.

She bent to pick up Paco, her new puppy, snuggled her face into his thick fur and took comfort from his squirming, plump body as she hugged him close and let him lick sweet kisses across her chin.
Aiden paused at the lab door then glanced at her over his shoulder and her heart hitched again. There. It was there, the glint in his eye. The one that told her every time she was about to give up that there was a spark of interest. There was hope.

Saturday, 3 January 2015

Role Reversal - His Dakr Master #1 - Shiloh Sadler





In the South before and after the Civil War, there were a select number of professions open to men of color. Most toiled in the fields or did other types of manual labor everything from carpentry to loading and unloading steamboats. If a man didn’t want to break his back working he could be a butler, a couch driver, waiter etc. There was a great need for servants.

But what about business ambitions?

Being a barber was one of the most acceptable businesses. Cutting hair and shaving also constituted serving others, but it gave men much more freedom. It was something they could do to go into business for themselves.

In Role Reversal I tell the story of Andrew. In ten years he goes from slave to wealthy businessman owning several barbershops in New Orleans. He was one of the lucky few. Except all his money couldn’t fill the loneliness in his heart.

Blurb:
Before the War Between the States, Andrew had deep feelings for Robert, but he couldn't express his desires to his young master. When the family fled Atlanta, he ran away to obtain his freedom. Ten years later, Andrew is not only free but the wealthy owner of several barbershops in New Orleans. Only one thing is lacking from his life: a long-term lover. When a customer tells him the whorehouse hired a new male prostitute he hopes visiting him could ease his loneliness. Only in his wildest dreams did he imagine the new whore to be Robert.

The war turned Robert's life upside down. Without slaves to work his plantation, his father sold Robert to a brothel. Trained in the art of submission, Robert hates his life as a whore, but he doesn't see a way out. Heartache hits him when he thinks about his past and happy memories of Andrew. The man deserted him when they were children, just like everyone he cared for had over the years.
When his former love interest reappears in his life can he get over the man's betrayal and embrace the future?

Content Warning: This book contains historical style BDSM

Excerpt:
After a half an hour, Robert entered the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Instantly Andrew turned rock hard. “Please put the robe back on,” he said, the words paining him. If you don’t then I’ll take you right now. I won’t be able to help myself.
Robert quickly obliged, and Andrew breathed easier. He motioned for the white man to come to him. Before he could scramble up and join him on the bed, Andrew stood. “Now it is my turn to take care of you.”

The submissive’s eyes widened.

Andrew did not say any more, wanting to keep the man guessing. He led him down the hall and into his office where he did his accounting and paperwork. In the far corner of the room sat a barber chair.
He ran his fingers across Robert’s face noting the light fuzz. “I will shave you,” he said, smiling. “I do know my business.”

“Yes, Sir. If it pleases you,” Robert said, sitting down.

Returning next door to the bathing chamber, Andrew warmed a towel in the sink and then placed it over Robert’s face. He sharpened on the strop and then a moment later removed the towel and began to slather his face with shaving soap.

Andrew carefully shaved his pretty face, knowing he’d not forgive himself if he nicked him. “You have beautiful skin,” he said, washing off the last of the soap.

“Thank you, Sir,” Robert said in a small voice, blushing.

Clearly the man was not used to compliments. What a shame. He deserved someone to take care of him, see to all his needs, and shower him with love.

After he’d finished shaving Robert, he took him by the hand and led him back to the bedroom. Once they got inside, he closed the door wanting the upmost privacy. Standing in front of him, he untied Robert’s robe; gently separating the two sides as he looked down at the submissive’s flawless body. A light blush crept down his skin from his head to toes.

Amused, Andrew gazed into his eyes and offered a playful smile. “Surely you’re used to being naked.”

“Y-yes just not in front of you.”


Andrew chuckled and ran his hands down the smooth planes of Robert’s chest. “I guess seeing each other without clothes as children didn’t count.”

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About the Author:
Shiloh Saddler likes to do research for her steamy romances first hand. She has invented a time machine and travels back to the 19th century on a regular basis. There are experimental settings on her time machine which could propel her into the future and even other worlds. She believes love and a good book makes anything possible.

Shiloh Social Media Links:
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00H6CN5D4