Monday, September 30, 2013

Release Day Blitz for How to Steal A Highlander's Heart by Samantha Holt!!

To Steal A Highlander's Heart.Release Day Banner Synopsis Alana sets eyes on Morgann for the first time in several years and what does he do? He captures her! But Alana refuses to go meekly with the sexy Highland warrior. Her kidnapping will reignite the rift that’s existed between the two clans since her father accused Morgann of theft and she doesn’t want to see her father harmed in the inevitable war that will ensue. Unfortunately for Alana, the faeries seek to interfere with her plans to escape. The sidhe have a debt to repay and Tèile, the green faery, is determined to mend the rift between the clans for good. And that means ensuring Alana and Morgann marry. Morgann has his own reasons for taking Alana and they are nothing to do with marriage or war. He wants to use her to reveal a secret from the past, the one that had him accused of theft. If only he didn’t find his childhood friend so attractive. When circumstances force them together, Alana’s life is threatened and war is imminent. Can Morgann reveal the truth without losing Alana? And will the faeries meddling help or hinder his cause? Meet the Author SamanthaHoltAuthorSmallSamantha resides in Warwickshire, England with her twin girls and husband. She's a romance addict and has been devouring all kinds of romance for as long as she can remember. Having studied archaeology, Samantha likes to blend her love of the past with her passion for romance to create thrilling and passionate tales set to medieval backdrops. She thinks there's nothing sexier than a rugged warrior and a feisty maiden falling head over heels for each other. Social Links
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Book Blast for Someone to Listen by AT Douglas!!



Book Synopsis: Abby wanted a fresh start, a new life thousands of miles away from her four difficult years of high school and the rumors that followed her.  As she begins her college experience in Boston, she finds friendship and love she didn’t expect, people who show her that she doesn’t have to be alone.
She is torn between two paths, inexplicably drawn to two completely different guys.  One understands her and reminds her of who she used to be, the broken shadow of a person wandering through life but not truly living.  The other is the key to her future, the guiding hand that she waited for years to pull her out of the darkness and into the light.
When Abby’s newfound happiness and renewed existence are threatened, everything changes.  She can fall back to that dark place within her or fight to save her future.
She faces the same struggle she has all along: getting someone to hear her, finding someone to believe her.
All she ever needed was someone to listen.  

Buy Link (exclusively on Amazon): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EH4EPHE 

AUTHOR BIO:
After growing up in the Pacific Northwest, A.T. Douglas ventured away from her quiet hometown for the bustle of college in the city of Boston.  Though she studied astronomy and was a science geek at heart, she always had a love for the written word and a story swirling in her head. It wasn't until she became addicted to the Young Adult/New Adult Contemporary Romance genres that she embraced her renewed passion for reading by self-publishing her debut novel, Someone to Listen.  Fueled by coffee and her love of music, she strives to turn daydreams and the realities of life into words the world can read.  Her writing is inspired by personal experiences and memories from her past.  She hopes to inspire others to break the silence and get their stories out into the world.   A.T. Douglas lives in New Hampshire with her husband and son and wishes desperately that there were more hours in the day for family, reading, and writing.   

Find out more about A.T. Douglas and follow her at the following social media links https://www.facebook.com/a2tdouglas
https://twitter.com/a2tdouglas
http://www.goodreads.com/atdouglas
http://atdouglas.wordpress.com  
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Friday, September 27, 2013

Book Blitz for Agnus McBain and the Island of Sleeping Kings by Angela J. Townsend!!


Title:  Angus MacBain and The Island of Sleeping Kings
Author:  Angela J. Townsend
Published:  September 27th, 2013 by Clean Teen Publishing
Word Count:  approx. 58,000
Genre:  YA Fantasy

Synopsis: Angus MacBain is unaware that his ancestral roots hail from an ancient sect of Scottish kings. When his dying grandfather gives him a dragon pendant, thirteen-year-old Angus learns of a legacy that will take him across an ocean to the island of Iona and thrust him into a heritage he did not know he had. He soon discovers that his mother, whom he had believed dead, is really a seal fairy, in hiding from a dangerous enemy. To save her, Angus must undergo a perilous journey of destiny and power to battle an evil Dacian knight and those who serve him. With only his family shield and the advice of a wizened vampire hunter to protect him, Angus must navigate dangerous terrain and dark enemies, in a land where the past and the present mingle, and sleeping kings wake.


THE AUTHOR:
AUTHOR BIO:
Angela Townsend was born in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Missoula, Montana. As a child, Angela grew up listening to stories told by her grandparents, ancient tales and legends of faraway places. Influenced by her Irish and Scottish heritage, Angela became an avid research historian, specializing in Celtic mythology. Her gift for storytelling finally led her to a full time career in historical research and writing. A writer in local community circulations, Angela is also a  published genealogical and historical resource writer who has taught numerous research seminars. Currently, Angela divides her time between writing, playing Celtic music on her fiddle, and Irish dancing.

Angela's first novel, Amarok, was published through Spencer Hill Press in 2012. Her newest novel, Angus MacBain and The Island of Sleeping Kings, was signed for publication with Clean Teen Publishing in 2013.

Angela resides on a ranch, in rural Northwestern Montana, with her two children Levi and Grant.

Below them, the waters boiled. White froth grew and twisted and splashed. A monstrous beast rose from the depths. A colossal creature so terrifying that Angus opened his mouth to scream, but not even a squeak came out. He gaped in stunned silence at the cephalopod-like beast with huge protruding eyes. A spiked tentacle, nearly eight feet long with rotating hooks, whipped to the surface. As the water sluiced off the thing, the hooks began gyrating and quivering. While Angus watched, one of them snaked out and wrapped around Vanora’s leg, dragging her on her belly, toward the water at top speed. She clawed and scraped, but she could get no hold. The thing kept dragging, pulling her closer to its gaping mouth, beating her over the rocky outcroppings.
“Vanora!” Angus scrambled over the rocks and leapt for her. He got hold of her hand. His fingers closed around hers. He pulled, but little by little her fingers slipped out of his grip.
The monster dragged her closer and closer to the ledge. She reached out and seized a pointy rock, holding on until her knuckles turned pale.


“Help me,” she screamed.

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Cover Reveal for What's Left of Me by Amanda Maxlyn!!!

Book Title: What’s Left of Me
Author: Amanda Maxlyn
Release date: December 13, 2013
Cover Design By: Mae I Design Photography
Click HERE to add it to your Goodreads TBR list!!

BOOK DESCRIPTION
Life works in mysterious ways.
Four years ago I became known as the girl with cancer.
 I refuse to cry.
And I refuse to give in.

A relationship with a man is the last thing I’m looking for right now, but one night with Parker changes everything. He is persistent, and he knows what he wants. Me.
He doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile.
But he doesn’t know, and I’m not ready to tell him.
What if it changes everything?
Tragedy found me when I was seventeen.
Love found me when I was twenty-one.
My name is Aundrea McCall, and this is my journey.  

THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR BIO:
I am the mother of two little boys, married to the love of my life, and living in one of the smallest towns in Minnesota. When I’m not chasing or cleaning up after my boys (yes, all three), I can be found writing or snuggled up with my kindle, a glass of wine, and spending time with my fictional friends and family.




LINKS:
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TEASER
I’m grateful when I reach the door to the ladies room that there isn’t anyone around. I reach for the handle when I hear from behind me, “Not going to use the men’s room again?” I know that sexy voice. It’s the same one as earlier this evening in this same area.
With my heart picking up pace, I turn around smiling sweetly, “No, I’m going to sit down and pee this time.” My smile spreads a little wider and I say a silent thanks to sweet baby Jesus for letting me find my voice this time.
He doesn’t respond. He just steps closer to me with the corner of his lips spreading upward.
I don’t breathe.
I can’t breathe. Not when he is this close.
God he smells amazing. Like a mixture of spice and mint. Maybe a hint of beer too. It's the type of scent that would awaken a primal desire within any female, and good God do I feel awakened.
“You ran off before I could thank you for the dance earlier.” No, thank you. His voice is a faint whisper and his face is now so close that our noses are almost touching. I glance down at his very attractive red lips just as the corners of his mouth move up into the most beautiful smile. Shit. He knows I’m looking at his lips.
I’m transfixed by him. In this very moment, I would do whatever he said or answer to any name he called; even if it was one of those fluffy names like baby or princess. All I can think about is the desire flowing through my body for those lips to be on mine. I would take him in this hallway. There I said it. Or, did I think it?
Do something.
Anything!
I look back at his lips.
I lick my own.
I can’t think about anything but wanting to feel his lips against mine. All thoughts go out the window of me not being able to pick up a man at a bar. I don’t care, but I will say any cheesy pick up line if it means I get to go home with him.
I know he’s watching me. He has to be thinking about my lips too because just then his tongue comes out licking his own. I try to think of something else to do, but nothing comes to mind. I feel him close the distance between us. He puts a finger under my chin for the second time tonight lifting my face so I’m looking right into his eyes. Without taking his eyes off mine he speaks in a quiet, low, raspy whisper, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Without waiting for my permission, his lips crash down against mine. He takes my top lip into his mouth tugging ever so gently. I let out a soft moan as his tongue lightly traces my lips- tasting me. I can smell the fresh mint and beer off his breath and all I can think about is tasting it. I grab his neck brining him closer -opening my mouth- inviting him in. He groans as I wrap my arms around his neck running my hands through his hair.
Shit, if I die tomorrow, I can die a happy woman knowing this was my last kiss.
His tongue enters my mouth and I meet it with my own. He reaches down to lift me up and I let him. I wrap my legs around his waist just as he slams my back against the wall in the corner of the hallway. There’s a rush of pain that shoots down my legs causing me to cry out. He must take that as a cry of pleasure because he kisses me harder.
I feel my dress rise all the way to my waist exposing myself for anyone that walks by. My head falls back against the wall and he immediately starts kissing down my chin to my neck, then up to my earlobe bringing it into his mouth biting down. “Do you want to get out of here?” He whispers so softly into my ear I almost don’t think I hear him correctly. When he asks me again I just nod in agreement. Afraid if I were to say anything it wouldn’t be yes, and I really want it to be yes.
Setting me down, he runs his hands over my dress laying it back into place, then grabs my hand and starts speed walking away heading towards the red exit sign.

What’s Left of Me. Copyright 2013. Amanda Maxlyn. Unedited and Subject to Change. 

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Thursday, September 26, 2013

Release Day Blitz and for Lily of the Valley by Sarah Daltry!!!




Book Info:
Title: Lily of the Valley (Flowering, #1.5)
Author: Sarah Daltry
Blurb:

18+ New Adult romance
You met them in Forget Me Not. Now, hear Jack’s story.

Plagued by a dark past, Jack sees college as a way out. Desperate to escape the area where he grew up, the people who know his secrets, and his own family, he deals with his problems through alcohol and sex.

When he first sees Lily, she’s the epitome of everything he hates. Yet something about her makes Jack rethink everything he knows and assumes about other people. Now, with the help of his best friend and lover, Jack has to decide if he wants to pursue something that he knows will only end badly.

Can Lily be one of the few people who can see Jack for who he really is – or will his darkness be too much for her to handle?

BOOK LINKS

About The Author:
Sarah Daltry writes erotica and romance that ranges from sweet to steamy. She moves around a lot and has trouble committing to things. Lily of the Valley is her third full length novel, although she also has several story collections and two novellas available. Her other novels are Forget Me Not, the story that tells Lily’s version of events, and Bitter Fruits, which was available shortly, but is now in the contract phase with a major publisher. When Sarah isn’t writing, she tends to waste a lot of time checking Facebook for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window.

Author Social Media Links:


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Book Spotlight and Giveaway for The Mourning After by Adriane Leigh!!!

The Mourning After Book Spotlight Synopsis Haunted by a painful past, Georgia Montgomery escapes the memories by buying a beach house on the North Carolina coast. She hopes a summer filled with sun, sand, margaritas and best friends will heal her, but when an unexpected visitor shows up, her past, present and future collide. Georgia is instantly drawn to Tristan Howell, the bronze-skinned, golden-haired stranger with an easy smile and eyes the deepest shade of green she's ever seen. She tries to deny the depth of her feelings for him, but just like an addiction- one look, one touch, one taste is never enough. With Tristan she loses control of the lonely world she's constructed for herself and learns that moving forward isn't possible while she's still chained to the events of her past. Before the summer is over friendships will be tested, hearts shattered and lives changed, and waiting for Georgia to find herself may destroy them all. Meet the Author Adrian (4)Adriane Leigh is the bestselling author of Steel and Lace and The Mourning After. She was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan's Upper Peninsula and now lives amongst the sand dunes on the Lake Michigan lakeshore. She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer. Adriane is married to a tall, dark and handsome guy, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls.   Social Links
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Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Cover Reveal for September Ends by Hunter S. Jones!!!


Title: September Ends
Author: Hunter S. Jones
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Day: October 1st, 2013
Reveal Host:
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Blurb:
Overweight and dull. That’s how I felt.

My grandfather and brother died. I hid inside a black cave deep in my soul, numbed for a decade on meds, booze, and bad love, married to my glorious career.

My name is Liz Snow, from Atlanta, Georgia, and this is my story.

One hot summer I fell hopelessly in love with successful attorney, Peter William Hendrix III, from Chattanooga, Tennessee. We bonded because of Shelley and Keats. Pete introduced me to the works of modern English poet, Jack O. Savage, It was like The Poet was drawing us together through his blogs and poems, like he had a message for my life and my love with Pete Hendrix.
I lived it in my heart and soul.

It all went tragically wrong once I learned Pete’s secret.

As September ends I jet to London, England with an unstable mind and a broken heart. Pete Hendrix betrayed me big time. There was no time for revenge. My life was a kaleidoscope of stabbing shards of pain.

London ignored me. Maybe I didn't exist. I was lost and lonely in a flat in Kensington.
I hear that Jack O. Savage will make a rare public appearance. I wrangle an invitation to the art gallery where he is reading. I was curious. Somehow, he was the cause of my trouble.
The rock-star-with-words was even more damaged than I.

Jack O.Savage, The Poet became my friend.
Then, an unexpected kiss at a county fair on a perfect English summer's day changed everything forever. Jack the man became my lover.
Magic.

My elusive dream of a lifelong love began.
If Pete was what I'd always wanted, Jack was what I always needed.
The mystery unraveled as the kaleidoscope of my broken life evolved and I found myself living a rainbow of perfect bliss.

Sometimes when you believe it’s the end, it’s only the beginning.
~~~~~~~~
September Ends is a contemporary romance with erotic and supernatural elements bound together by poetry. It reveals the intricate web of passion and desire which entangles Liz Snow, Pete Hendrix and Jack O. Savage. The story is told through Liz Snow’s diary, Jack O. Savage’s poetry, and from letters sent across the Atlantic. Traveling throughout the lushness of a summertime in Tennessee and Georgia, September Ends journeys into the elegance of London’s West End and is finally settled in the countryside of Cornwall, England, a decade later.

September Ends is a story of sin, redemption and salvation through love
because love happens when we least expect it.

THE AUTHOR:
AUTHOR BIO:
HUNTER S. JONES -Novelist. Exile on Peachtree Street.
Lover of all the finer things in life.
The art form I create when writing is much more interesting than anything you will ever know or learn about me. However, since you ask, I have lived in Tennessee and Georgia my entire life, except for one “lost summer” spent in Los Angeles. I was always a complex kid. My first published stories were for a local underground rock publication in Nashville. I have published articles on music, fashion, art, travel and history.


Currently, I have a music/entertainment blog @ExPatsPost.com. My debut novella, Fables of the Reconstruction,  was published in 2012. 

Edgar Allan Poe and Anne Rice have always fascinated me, although like any Southern girl, I will always idolize Margaret Mitchell for writing Gone With The Wind. I also adore the works of John Grisham, and own a huge selection of his books. I live in Atlanta, Georgia with my husband, my books, too many clothes, too many shoes and way too many stacks of notepads and journals.
September 2013 will see the launch of my first novel, a contemporary romance, written in collaboration with English author and poet, R.J. Askew.


Book Blitz for Playing With Her Heart by Lauren Blakely!!!

Playing with Her Heart Book Blitz Banner Synopsis From the NYT & USA Today Bestselling romance author, a sizzling and addictive story of a woman with a broken past and the man who can't fight his attraction to her... Twenty-three year old rising theater star Jill McCormick has built a life out of pretending. Pretending she's happy, pretending she's not haunted by the dark secret that shattered her world six years ago. But then she comes face to face with her new director - sexy, sophisticated, possessive, all-alpha Davis Milo. He tries to resist the actress he's cast, but the attraction between them is too powerful, and soon their private rehearsals spiral into new, forbidden territory. The passionate connection, the intense chemistry is undeniable, and it hits them anywhere, and everywhere - in the theater, on the piano, in the limo, in the restaurant...But the tragedy in Jill's past stands between them. Davis has walls too, so they can either face their fears together, or risk the deepest love and greatest passion either has ever felt... Exclusive Deleted Scene from PLAYING WITH HER HEART Explanation from Lauren: This deleted scene takes place in chapter 15 prior to the Jill and Davis’ second private rehearsal, which will be more familiar to readers as before the “piano scene.” I had originally written this scene where Jill rehearses with Patrick, and Davis’ reaction to it. But I then decided that I’d rather show Jill and Davis rehearsing. Plus, I felt readers already knew and understood the depths of Davis’ jealousy at this point and that the additional scene showing it wasn’t necessary. I also nixed it because I decided that Patrick was not falling in love with Jill, as Davis surmises from this scene. But, just for fun, here it is from the cutting room floor!!! xoxo Lauren Thirty minutes later, I am coiled full of tension from watching Patrick run his hands through Jill’s hair, from the way she responds, leaning her head back into him, from how she breathily whispers one of the last lines in the scene, “it feels so good,” her microphone taking the words on a trip around the whole theater, up to the proscenium arch and two boxes and back. “End scene,” Shannon calls out. I run a hand across my chin roughly. Steel myself, then stand up, walk to the edge of the stage, place a palm against the floorboards as Jill and Patrick look at me expectantly. “That’s a great start. Now, Patrick what I want you to work on next is really capturing the change in Paolo. This scene is the moment when he starts to soften around her. When he shifts from being the hard ass teacher and into the tender lover he will become. Look for those moments in between the words,” I say, giving him the full, honest truth of what his performance needs, even though if pains every bone in my body to instruct him like this. He nods several times, taking it in. He’s a pro, and I know he’ll knock this scene out of the park as he always does. He doesn’t command his name on the marquee for nothing. The man can sell tickets for a reason. Then I turn to Jill. She’s nibbling on her lower lip nervously. She stops when she meets my gaze. I do my best to give away nothing as I talk to her. “For Ava, I really see this moment as the one when it clicks for her. That she’s been confused and unsure for so long about Paolo. Is he just the professor? Is he merely a difficult teacher? Or is there something more? But then they are in the studio working and her hair is a mess and full of paint, and her hands are covered in it, and this is when she understands not only that he has feelings for her, but that she’s falling hard for him too.” “Thank you. That makes sense,” she says, like a good student. “Are we going okay on the blocking?” Patrick asks. “It’s a little unformed at this point.” “You’re doing fine. We’ll get it finalized soon. For now, run it again,” I say, and I return to my seat, feeling absolutely spent from having to tell the two of them to show me more of them falling in love. Another rounds later, they’re closer to nailing it, and I’m sure I’ll knock the punching bag from its chains the next time I’m at the gym. When Patrick asks to do the scene one final time, I’m about to explode with a resounding “No.” Instead, I keep it all inside, as I manage through gritted teeth, “Of course let’s get it right.” I watch one final time, even though it’s fucking eating away at me to see him touch her. Before he even starts the scene, he looks at her with softness in his eyes, and and I know he’s starting to fall for her too. That he’s not merely acting. That he’s only playing a part. The two are starting to blend, and this is why actors all over the world fall for actors. This is why you hear stories of movie set romances, because they aren’t stories. They’re true. There is little, I imagine, more intoxicating than pretending to be in love with someone. After a while, reality and fiction bleed over, and you fall in love for real. When the scene ends, the stage manager calls take five and Patrick tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, flashing her that matinee idol smile of his that melts women. I swallow, close my eyes, clench my fists. Selfishly, I had hoped it would all be unrequited. I had hoped it was a one-way thing on her part. But that was stupid of me. I’m falling for her, and he is too. Meet the Author PWHH NEW Amazon GR SWLauren Blakely writes sexy contemporary romance novels with heat, heart and humor, and her books have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iBooks bestseller lists. Like the heroine in PLAYING WITH HER HEART, she thinks life should be filled with love, passion, and dreams come true. Lauren lives in California with her husband, children, and dogs. Her novels include Caught Up In Us, Pretending He's Mine, Playing With Her Heart, and Trophy Husband. Synopsis
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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Giveaway for Infernal Gates by Michael J. Webb!!




Infernal Gates
Author: Michael J. Webb
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Synopsis: Ethan Freeman, ex-Special Forces Ranger, wakes up to discover he is the sole survivor of a fiery commercial airline crash that killed his entire family. His nightmare is only beginning when he becomes the FBI’s prime suspect. Only Ethan knows he’s not a cold-hearted murderer, but he has no idea what happened to him--and why he alone survived.


He finds an unlikely ally in Sam Weaver, the NTSB Chief Investigator. An ex-military pilot, Sam senses Ethan is innocent. She tries to remain dispassionate in her investigation of the crash even as she finds herself attracted to the man who may be America's worst homegrown mass-murderer.

Neither Ethan nor Sam realize that shadowy spiritual forces are at work which will alter their lives forever. A monstrous evil, imprisoned since the time of the Pharaohs, has been released by The Nine, a sinister group of powerful men and women who believe they are the direct descendants of the Anunnaki, ancient Sumerian gods. The demon they have unleashed intends to free The Destroyer from The Abyss, the angelic prison referred to in the Book of Revelation, and unleash a worldwide reign of terror and annihilation.

Facing impossible odds, time is running out for Ethan and all of humanity as he is drawn into an ever-deeper conspiracy--millennia in the making--and learns that he is the key to stopping The Nine. He must overcome his deepest fears and find reserves of strength he never knew he had as he confronts pure evil in order to save himself and an unsuspecting world.



SNEAK PEEK


Less than ten minutes before we’re all dead, thought Ethan Freeman, and there is nothing I can do about it!

The stricken A320 Airbus--originally bound for St. Thomas and now limping back to Charlotte, North Carolina—shuddered like a bird suffering a mortal wound, then shook violently.  Shouting and screaming from the rear of the plane drowned out the prayer of the older couple seated in front of them, “Our Father, Who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom come—”

Lisa, Ethan’s wife, sobbed beside him.  Across the aisle his eighteen year-old son, Josh, yelled, “Dad--are we going to crash?”

“No, son,” he lied.  “We-are-not-going-to-crash.”

Megan, his sixteen year-old daughter, seated next to her brother, screamed, “The engine is on FIRE!”

Lisa clung to the seat arms so hard her fingers turned white and whimpered, “We’re all going to die--just like Greg,” then moaned, “I don’t want to die—”

Ethan reached for his wife’s hand as a thunderous explosion shook the plane and slammed him against the window, knocking breath out of him.  He cried out in agony as the palm of his right hand was sliced open by a jagged metal clasp sticking up on the arm rest between him and Lisa.  Blood gushed out of the ugly-looking wound and splattered the back of the seat in front of him.

The plane banked hard to the right and the nose suddenly pointed toward the ground, six miles below, as if the commercial airliner was being plucked from the cloudless, crystal blue heavens by a giant unseen hand.  Ethan glanced toward the rear of the aircraft.  A gaping hole replaced the emergency exit.  Loose debris disappeared violently out of the plane—and there were at least two rows of seats missing!

Swinging his gaze back to the First Class Cabin, Ethan noticed that ice crystals now clung to the windows.  His ears popped as oxygen masks dropped from overhead.  Shivering, he reached for the oxygen mask dangling in front of him like a puppet on a string and struggled to place it over his mouth and nose.  He took several deep breaths, ignoring his bleeding hand, then yelled out to his family, “Put your masks on!”  

In the next instant, he was pressed so hard into his seat it seemed as if he weighed four to five times his normal weight.  Black spots danced before his eyes and he fought for breath. 

All he could think about was that he had failed his family—that he had not been able to save them.  He cried out in desperation, “GOD HELP US—”  

Moments later, a flash of blinding white light enveloped him as a blast of fiery heat washed over him.

Then everything went black.


About the Author: Michael J. Webb graduated summa cum laude from the University of Florida and obtained his J. D. from the same university.  Over the past forty years he has travelled the world in search of adventure.

He is a history buff, both ancient and modern, and is fascinated by the intersection of the scientific, supernatural, and Biblical world views, and has studied and taught from the Bible extensively for more than twenty-five years. He is also intrigued by recent discoveries in quantum physics that are now providing extraordinary insights into the reality of the spirit realm, especially as it relates to the study of Light.  He incorporates all of the above into his supernatural thrillers.

Michael and his wife make their home in Charlotte, North Carolina.  


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**Giveaway ENDS OCT 2, 2013**
**Winners have 48 HOURS to respond before another winner is chosen**
**Must be 13 or older to enter**

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The Prophecy (Book #3 of The Children of Lilth Series) By C. David Belt!!


Title: The Prophecy (The Children of Lilith Volume 3)
Author: C. David Belt
Genre: LDS, Horror, Vampire
Tour Host: Lady Amber's Tours

Synopsis:
Volume 3, The Prophecy: 
For 6,000 years, Lilith and her Children have walked the earth, hunting, preying, seducing, corrupting, ruling from the shadows...until now. 
An ancient prophecy, spoken by Adam, Lilith's grandfather, foretells her doom. She will do anything, corrupt any innocent, murder countless mortals to save herself.  To survive, she knows she must destroy Carl and Moira Morgan.  The war has begun.  And Carl and Moira know, win or lose, it all ends here.

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THE EXCERPT:
“‘Sons of God! Brood of Light-Bearer who fell!’ That is how I would render the first half.
The message is in plain text. The email address looks like a random mix of letters and numbers, and the email provider is one that supports anonymous accounts.
I’ve been collaborating with colleagues across the country and in the U.K., Israel, and Egypt for more than a week. We’ve been trying to decipher the twenty-four syllables of Adamic (at least I assume it’s Adamic) that Lilith uttered at the battle at the farm. My colleagues are experts in Hebrew, Arabic, Egyptian, Greek, and Latin. We’ve been exchanging emails ever since I asked for their help.
Of course, I’ve told them I’m not at liberty to reveal the source just yet, but I’m certain it’s a language that predated all others, a protolanguage. In the beginning, some refused to collaborate on the project because I wouldn’t reveal my source, because I was being cryptic. But eventually, most couldn’t resist the lure of the puzzle. That’s something we all share in common, my colleagues and I: we can’t resist the potential, the lure of hidden knowledge.
And of course, I can’t tell my academic friends that the source is a native speaker. I also can’t tell them that the text is an outburst from a six-thousand-year-old vampire after she’d been impaled by the very spear that once pierced Christ’s side, a spear being wielded by a former Nazi assassin who is now a repentant vampire.

In other words, I can’t betray my friends.


Volume 2, The Penitent:
In 6,000 years, no vampire has ever defied Lilith, Queen of the vampires...until now. 
Moira and Carl Morgan have saved the city from the horror of Michael and his evil wives, but victory has come at terrible cost.  And there are consequences to every choice, every victory.  Word has spread that someone has broken Lilith's power, that someone has defied the ancient Queen of the vampires.   And she's not happy about it.

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THE EXCERPT:
There’s something seriously wrong with me.
I cannae Sleep.
Or, to be more precise, I dinnae want to Sleep. And since I can catch a full day’s rest only once each week, abstaining could have . . . consequences. It makes me irritable. It affects my judgment. It in-creases the ever-present likelihood that I might . . . slip up.
And if I slip up, people die.
Ach! I’m so hungry!
’Tis another thing that’s worrying me. I should nae be hungry! Nae even a wee bit! I Fed just after sunrise! We both did. Carl, my husband, and I consumed two quarts each just before we went to bed. ’Twas a bit of a luxury, those two quarts. One should’ve been sufficient, enough for a week in a pinch. But here I am, lying in bed beside my Sleeping husband, and all I can think of is how hungry I am, how tired I am, and how much I dread going to Sleep!
’Tis nae use.
I rise from bed. Carl does nae notice. To all appearances he could be dead. I slip into my dressing gown and make my way to the living room. I take several turns about the room as I try desperately to think of something else, anything other than my hunger, my weariness, and my fear.
A scratching sound! Aye, lassie, focus on that. Someone’s at my flow-er bed again, digging it up. And I’m nigh certain I know who ’tis. That’s twice this year. I should peek out and catch . . . but, nae, ’tis the side facing the Sun.
My stomach growls.
Perhaps just a wee pint more.
I walk into the kitchen. Though nobody’s watching me, I try to keep my pace casual, walking, strolling as if I’m nae in a hurry, as if I’m nae desperate to get there. Why do I bother? There’s nary a soul to see me. Who am I trying to deceive? Myself?
I open the refrigerator, and the cold air transports the sweet fra-grance to my nostrils. To be sure, ’tis tainted by the odor of the preservative, but that cannae mask the nectar of . . .
There! Outside! Something far sweeter than the contents of my icebox!
Evil.
Though I cannae smell it just yet, I can feel the general direction.
Quickly I close the refrigerator and head to the window. A cau-tious glance, while I carefully stay in the shadows, reveals nothing about the source of the evil, but it does show an overcast sky.
I shudder with relief, and my mouth begins to water. In a trice, I rush to the door and throw open the chest beside it. This is my emergency kit. I retrieve all the things I need: the bottle of heavy-duty spray-on sunscreen, the sweatpants, sweatshirt, gloves, boots, sun-glasses, cloak, and hood. In just a few seconds, I’ve applied every bit of protection. Only at this point, when I’m prepared, do I pause for a wee tick to be sure there’s still a reason to venture outside.
Aye, the evil’s still there. Sweet corruption.
I open the front door quietly so as not to alert anyone to my pre-sence. Aye, but I want to throw it open!
And the scent of pure evil washes over me. The honeyed fragrance engulfs my senses. Drool spills from my eager lips.
So close!
The familiar rage builds like a smithy furnace stoked by a bellows within me. Here! In my very neighborhood, practically on my front lawn!
Through the red haze of my wrath, I barely notice that my flower beds are indeed torn up, the destroyer having fled. I dinnae care for that. The one I Hunt now has done far worse than petty vandalism. Nae, the evil I smell can be caused only by murder and violence.
The scent turns my head to the southwest. I cannae see the source, but the direction is certain. I follow the airborne spoor across the street and to the right toward . . . Aye! That open garage! ’Tis the Mur-phys’ home. I can see two cars, neither one of them running. Now I can hear voices—hushed but emphatic voices.
“. . . my money, cabrón?”
I dinnae recognize the voice.
Tomorrow! I’ll have it tomorrow!”
That voice I recognize. ’Tis Aaron Murphy. I dinnae know the the family well since they are nae in my ward, but Aaron’s the oldest boy in the family. He’s plays football or baseball or some other sport at the high school. I do hope he’s nae the source of the evil.
I approach the garage with all stealth, fighting hard to contain the mounting rage and the ravenous hunger.
“You said that yesterday, man. And the day before that. You been hiding from me!”
“I swear, Manny! Tomorrow!”
“You don’t get it, muchacho. I give you product. You sell it to your little friends at school. You give me my money. I give you more product. You sell it. You give me money. You get to go on making everyone think you just a good little Mormon boy. That’s how it works.”
“Please, Manny!”
“Not this time, cabrón! I gotta teach you a lesson. Today, I’m just gonna break your fingers.”
I round a corner of the garage and take in the whole scene. In the confined space between a compact car on the left and the Murphy fam-ily’s minivan on the right, Aaron, the all-American boy, is pinned a-gainst the larger vehicle, held there by a big Hispanic man complete with bandana, gold chains, tattoos, multiple piercings, and a nasty-looking switchblade. Manny, the thug, has one hand at Aaron’s throat. The other hand holds the knife an inch away from the lad’s eye.
“Next time I cut off one of your fingers, muchacho. Just try catching a football like . . .”
A snarl rips from my throat.
Manny releases the boy and spins to face me. He looks startled, but nae frightened. Aaron’s head snaps in my direction, but he remains rooted to the spot. He looks horrified.
The thug’s face twists in an evil leer. “Beat it, chica. This is none of your business.”
I laugh low and menacingly. “Ach, nae, rat. Ye are my business.”
I step into the shade of the garage, safely out of the muted sun-light. I throw back my hood and pull off my sunglasses, setting them on the trunk of the sedan. I fix Aaron’s eyes with my own and say with Persuasion, “Lad, go stand over there and wait for me while I deal with this.” Aaron’s expression goes slack, and he turns obediently and walks to the far wall of the garage.
I return my gaze to the gangster, who’s staring at Aaron in amaze-ment. “Now, rat,” I say, “face me. Look into my eyes and see the hellfire that awaits ye.”
Manny looks at me, his face a mask of fury. “Listen, puta . . .”
I open my mouth wide, revealing my dripping fangs.
His brown eyes go wide, and the color drains from his face. “Madre de . . . !
I advance toward him, savoring his terror as I will the honeyed sweetness of his evil blood. I want to tear this vermin to shreds . . . after I consume his life.
Still brandishing the knife in one hand, he fumbles at his breast with the other and lifts a rather large and ornate gold cross on its chain. He holds it toward me as a talisman.
I cower back, shielding my face from the crucifix.
Through my fingers, I can see Manny’s face split in a leer of tri-umph. “That’s right, zorra. Now you know who’s . . .”
I straighten up, no longer feigning fear. I shake my head slowly from side to side, laughing softly. “Ooh, did I give ye a wee moment of hope, ratty? That bonnie bit of jewelry cannae protect ye from me.”



Volume 1, The Unwilling: 
In all the 6,000 years that the Children of Lilith have walked among us, there has never been an unwilling vampire...until now.

The Unwilling is the story of the world’s first and only unwilling vampire.  Set in present-day Utah, it’s the story of Carl Morgan, a decent LDS man who loses his wife and children in an automobile accident.  Then he witnesses the murder of his wayward sister at the hands of the beautiful and mysterious Rebecca.  When the police can’t find the killer, he goes searching for her.  He finds Rebecca, but she takes away everything.  She transforms him into the world’s FIRST and ONLY unwilling vampire.  Vampirism is a choice, and you’re choosing to become a serial killer, because you can only survive on HUMAN blood, not animal blood.  Carl is unwilling to murder to survive and he really doesn’t understand what has happened to him.  He’s found and mentored by Moira MacDonald, a two-hundred and seventy year-old Penitent (repentant vampire).  She teaches him how to survive without killing, how to stay true to his temple covenants (in spite of his condition), and how to get justice for his murdered sister.  But to Moira?  Carl’s very existence as an unwilling vampire turns her world upside-down, because Carl is an impossibility.  In the 6,000 years that the Children of Lilith have walked the earth, there has never been an unwilling vampire, because eternal damnation cannot be forced on someone: they must choose it, just as Moira did.  And yet, there’s Carl.  If he can exist somehow, there must be something about Moira’s condition that she doesn’t know.  Is it possible that, after two and a half centuries of searching for redemption and repentance with no hope, perhaps there might somehow be a way back?  Meanwhile, Rebecca’s vampire Master, Michael, plans to unleash a wave of new vampires on the city.  Carl and Moira must stop him before countless innocents are slaughtered.

BUY LINKS:
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Barnes & Noble:


THE EXCERPT:
“Where am I?” I ask.
She hesitates a moment and then replies, “Ye are in my home. Do ye know how ye got here?”
Now I’m getting worried. “My memory’s a bit fuzzy. Sorry.”
“Ye carried a young woman into the emergency room at the LDS Hospital. She was unconscious and covered in blood. Ye were stag-gerin’ about and yellin’ incoherently. Ye frightened everyone. We took the young woman and attended to her, but ye collapsed. I thought it best nae to let the staff examine ye. So, I brought ye here and tended to ye myself.”
The girl. Yes, I remember the girl. “Is she OK?” I ask.
Moira nods slowly. “Aye, she’s fine. Some blood loss, but she’ll live. Ye did nae kill her.”
Kill her? What?
“W . . . why would I kill her?” I stammer. “What’re you talking about?”
She stares at me again. She seems to be holding some kind of internal debate. Her eyes narrow as she comes to a decision.
“Blood,” she says simply.
“What?”
“Blood. Human blood.”
I look at her without understanding, blinking stupidly.
“The drink,” she says. “’Twas human blood.”
In an instant, it all comes back to me.
Michael. Rebecca. Chikah. Benjamin. The Cult. The Ritual. Every-thing.
I think I’m going to throw up.
I lurch to my feet and look around frantically for a bathroom, a sink.
Moira is at my side in an instant. She pulls me toward the kitchen. “Dinnae ruin my carpet, laddie!”
Wow! Her grip is strong!
By the time I reach the sink, the nausea has passed. I lean against the sink all the same. The room is still spinning.
Moira gave me blood to drink. I drank human blood.
And I liked it.

THE AUTHOR:
AUTHOR BIO:
C. David Belt was born in Evanston, WY. As a child, he lived and traveled extensively around the Far East. He served as an LDS missionary in South Korea and southern California (Korean-speaking). He graduated from Brigham Young University with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science and a minor in Aerospace Studies. He served as a B-52 pilot in the US Air Force and as an Air Weapons Controller in the Washington Air National Guard. When he is not writing, he sings in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and works as a software engineer. He collects swords (mostly Scottish), axes, spears, and other medieval weapons and armor. He and his wife have six children and live in Utah with an eclectus parrot named Mork (who likes to jump on the keyboard when David is writing).

AUTHOR LINKS:
 

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