a look at Amber Lacie & ‘Breathe’ @amber_lacie #Itsalovestory


Sometimes love is fated in the stars. You know
you are destined for each other. Your souls entwine and you can’t imagine your
life without them.
Sometimes it’s found when you’re not looking
for it. It peeks around the corner when you least expect it, sweeping you off
your feet, carrying you off into the sunset.
Sometimes, there are a lucky few who get to
experience both. I was one of the lucky ones.

A grunt escapes my lips, as I try to roll
over. It’s late. I’m not sure what time it is exactly, but I know it’s late.
The lights on the pole are lit up, sending random colors reflecting off the
windows and the mirror of his dresser. It’s calmingly beautiful. Holden is
spread across the end of the bed with his long legs hanging over the side. It
takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Lifting the blanket off of me, I kneel on the
bed, leaning towards Holden, attempting to see if he’s awake. My heart does a
little flip when I notice a small brown, worn looking stuffed dog. I cannot
believe he has kept it all this time. We were ten years old and we thought we
owned the world, as we walked around the state fair.

I had forced Holden on every ride and he was
paying for it with a massive headache. I kept teasing him about being weaker
than me. I must have taken things a little too far because he wouldn’t look at
me. Knowing I had hurt him, I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him behind me,
until I found a game I knew I could win.

There was a rather obese man with greasy hair
wearing a red shirt, juggling baseballs in front of his stand. Plates were
lined up awkwardly on shelves behind him. All I had to do was break three
plates and I would win the huge stuffed bear hanging on a wall full of smaller
prizes. It took me eleven tries before I finally broke two plates.

I guess the guy must have felt bad for me
because he handed me a small, brown stuffed dog with a white heart on its nose
and told me to move along. It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but I gave it to
Holden anyways. My reward was the tiniest of kisses on my cheek.

Giggling to myself, I lay back down. I’m not
sure he would want me to see him sleeping with a stuffed animal, but I’m glad
that I did. An idea pops into my head, just as I start to relax again. My eyes
peer around the room until I find what I’m looking for. Sneaking over to his
dresser as quietly as I can, I grab his camera and tiptoe back over to the bed.

The camera flashes when I snap his picture,
causing me to immediately regret my decision. Afraid he might wake up and catch
me, I grab the Polaroid picture and put the camera back where I found it. I
slip back into bed and pull the blanket over me just in time. He rolls over and
sits up a bit. My heart is frantic, as I watch him look across the room. I see
his head turn and I quickly close my eyes.

“What are you doing?” His voice is raspy,
almost menacing. Shit. I don’t answer, instead I pretend to be asleep. “I know
you. I know when you are up to something. I also know you are awake. Being that
it’s the middle of the night, I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything and
I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight, Carsten.”

“Night.” Shit. Did I just answer him? I hear
him laugh as he rolls over. Shit. I did answer him. Maybe he will forget, at
least I hope he does. I wait a few minutes to make sure he’s sound asleep
before I grab the Polaroid, shaking it a few times. There’s a glare from the
flash. It almost looks as though Holden has a golden light surrounding him. I
can barely make out the dark lump tucked under his arm. A grin spreads across
my face, as I slide the picture into the pillowcase under my head.

 

I grew up in Chicagoland and now live in
quaint little town in Northwest Indiana. I have two beautiful children and
husband who worships the ground I walk on (or at least he should). I’ve always
loved reading. Now I’m expanding that love into writing and look forward to
producing many books.

I’m a huge geek and proud of it. Books are my
life. I love reading, especially fiction. It doesn’t matter the genre or age
group. I will read anything from comics to novels. I read at least one book a
day. If it wasn’t for my kindle, my living room would be overflowing with
books.

Welcome to Tory Richards w/ #Biker #EroticRomance ‘No Mercy’ @ToryRichards @GoddessFish

blurbblitz_tourbanner_nomercy

Today we have author Tory Richards visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
mediakit_authorphoto_nomercy

* Tory Richards is a fun-loving grandma who writes smut. Born in 1955 in the small town of Milo, Maine, she’s lived most of her life in Florida. Today she lives with her daughter and her family. She has her own woman-cave which she shares with four felines whose main goal in life is getting as much cat hair on everything that they can.
* Penning stories by hand and then on manual typewriter at the age of thirteen, Tory was a closet writer until the encouragement of her family prompted her into submitting to a publisher. She’s been published since 2005, and has since retired from Disney to focus on family and writing.

A look into…

mediakit_bookcover_nomercy

~ Blurb ~

* Club trouble won’t keep Rock from bringing his son and Allie home.
* Rock’s the VP of Phantom Riders MC. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Ruthless. A killer who’ll stop at nothing to keep what’s his. And he wants Allie and their son.
* Allie had given Rock her virginity, and then ran away when she got pregnant. Seven years later he shows up at her door, demanding his son, and claiming her.

~ Excerpt ~

* I began to follow, but Rock stopped me. Our gazes clashed. “Did he touch you?”
* I opened my mouth, thinking about the man’s hands on my hips, but then closed it again. It was so minor it didn’t really warrant mentioning. “Not really. We weren’t dancing together, Rock. I thought I was alone until I turned around and he was just there.”
* His gaze ran down the length of me before returning to my eyes. I could tell that he liked what he saw, yet his next words contradicted the lust in his eyes. “You come out looking like that and think you’re going to be left alone?”
* My jaw dropped, and I glanced down at what I was wearing. I didn’t get a chance to dress up much, so I’d gone all out with a tiny, black, figure-hugging dress, the kind that never goes out of style, and fire-engine red stilettos. The front was cut low and showed off the generous swell of my breasts, but it wasn’t indecent. The length was short, above my knees.
* I frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with my dress. Look around you, Rock. There are plenty of women here showing a lot more skin than I am.”
* His gaze didn’t leave mine. “None of them are my woman,” he growled, pulling me behind him to the table where everyone else had already sat down.
* His woman? Under the circumstances I thought it best not to resist him, even though he was treating me like a wayward child. I sensed that something more was going on than just his issue with what I was wearing, so I pressed my lips and let him drag me back to the table.

Buy No Mercy here…
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Smashwords

Find Tory Richards here…
Blog/Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Twitter

Thank you for joining us here today, Tory Richards! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Tory Richards will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour! So be sure to leave a comment AND use this RAFFLECOPTER LINK to enter the drawing. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!

Welcome to Jeremy T. Ringfield w/ #NA #RomanticSuspense ’51 Love’ @JTRingfield @GoddessFish

fs_tourbanner_51love

Today we have author Jeremy T. Ringfield visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
mediakit_authorphoto_51love

* Jeremy lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He grew up in the south Atlanta area, where he eventually earned a football scholarship to Duke University. After experiencing enough life to form his own opinions, he enjoys sharing some with friends, reading, watching fantasy thriller and romance films, listening to music, and jogging when he is not writing. He writes new adult fiction.

Today character, Abram, will be talking about where ideas come from since he’s a writer as well.
* Hi reader, whoever you are.
* I don’t know why I am writing on this blog, but I wanted to take a break from walking outside all day so I stopped by the library to search the internet for a while. I guess this question was appealing, so I’ll share a few thoughts with you reader. I’m not sure where ideas come from, but I’m pretty sure it has a rap sheet. And a long one at that. Let me tell you, every time I come across these ideas, something is going down. Like last year for instance, I met this idea about writing a book. Right off the bat, it was strange as change sitting in the middle of a gas station parking lot. I don’t mean a spare coin or two here and there. I mean, a pile of change big enough to grab a handful. You know that someone had been there before, and its presence both begged my attention as well as shunned me to stop looking. On the one hand, I knew all too well what happens if I approached it. Nobody seemed to be looking so I figured it was safe to just nab a few without seeming so desperate. How wrong it would be to take from someone else’s stash had not occurred to me. I was too focused on what it is that I was saving all these random coins for. But never mind that. I took a few steps, got tunnel vision on the way the sunlight glistened off the metal, thought how I could make use of a few extra quarters, and suddenly that one person that always shows up out of nowhere was staring at my every move. I fake tripped on a flat piece of parking lot that I hoped looked uneven from the bystander’s view to save face. Did you just see that on the ground (wink wink)? Of course I wasn’t grabbing that five dollars and twenty-five cents worth looking pile of change.
* So I turned around and heard the voice before I connected the face with the origin of the oratory. “Did you want something to eat? I can buy you something from inside.” Almost bumping into her made my eyes close involuntarily as a thought erupted its way to the surface of my mind.
* “Listen you crazy buh-buh, ugh!” – Thud!
* And then my eyes opened.
* Her beauty was as genuinely pure as the gesture, and I could not have been more embarrassed at the same time for being so wrong about how real I played that stumble off. The homelessness of my attire didn’t even give my fake tripping act a chance to conceal my motivations for being so close to those coins. But if meeting her is like two wrongs not making a right, I’d be happy if this gets worse. Real worse. It turns out that the bad history of these ideas quickly lead to the most wondrous encounters, strange yes, but a beautiful beginning that I never saw coming. I wish I could say the same for my rap sheet. I replied without revealing anything that might give me away, “You sure? I mean, thank you. I’d be grateful if you don’t mind. ” I’d tell you more about what happened to her, reader, but the library is closing and the computers are about to shut down. See ya.

A look into…

cover_51love

~ Blurb ~

* This story is about Abram, a hopeless romantic who enrolls into college and begins leaving love notes for the girl, Jec, who works at the front desk of his student apartments. About why they know each other when neither have even met. That’s right, she had seen his face only two weeks earlier, when he tossed his book bag in the middle of the street, holding up traffic like a mad homeless man. But what she doesn’t know is that just before he came to grab his keys to move in, the handsome albeit strange eyes and the person they belong to had just been released from the county jail.
* The jail cell talk without any cameras around to record make his last 51 minutes in the pen with a sketchy bunkmate a do or die conversation that may explain why he became homeless, why he wrote the love letters in the first place, and if both were random at all.

~ Excerpt ~

* As I go to hand him his key and re-washable cup, I remind him that “the lobby coffee is free”, and he glances at my name tag.
* I lazily connect my last sentence with the next, saying “Jec, for short”.
* He pauses, then shakes his head and asks “What if I want to call you something different?”
* I meet his eyes with a stare of my own, slow to respond, blink, and say “It will be okay Abram.” His face scrunches for a moment and his eyes look as though he is wondering straight through me. My glance falls deeper into the hole of an eye, and I see a marble in the night, the dark side of a full moon, which can be plucked right out of the sky to place a piece of the void heaven filled should I grab it and tuck it into my pocket.
* The ascension falling as the walls collapse to drop a cloud in his ear, a long fiber weaves my wonder, wherefore out there did he discover?
* And I conceived a thought of a single droplet, enough months from now, falling into a gravitationally absent drip time has lost, and him not.
* Before I can tell if he eased his facial expression, he walks off keys in hand without another word.
* “See, I told you. Killer” Bobby says flatly, and I just return to checking my emails.

Buy 51 Love here…
Amazon | Amazon: Print | Barnes & Noble | iTunes

Find Jeremy T. Ringfield here…
Facebook | Twitter | Website

Thank you for joining us here today, Jeremy T. Ringfield! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Jeremy T. Ringfield will award to one randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card! So be sure to leave a comment AND use this RAFFLECOPTER LINK to enter the drawing. Also, visit the other tour stops for a greater chance of winning!