Reviews, Books News, Giveaways, and a Smile :)

Okay, I’ve been in my cave editing and writing, and looks like I’ll be there until the end of June. But that’s good news, guys! Means I’m almost finished with three projects! 🙂 Speaking of, remember that secret project I mentioned a while back? Well, it has a title… ready to hear it? Gypsy Love! Fellow author Lynn Vroman and I collaborated and came up with a great story we hope to share with you all soon. There’s more, Gypsy Love is part of something bigger, but those details are still under construction. Should have more to share soon! However, I’ll leave you with a teaser. Enjoy ❤

11280565_10204481224778862_1587876761_o
Gypsy Love by Angela McPherson and Lynn Vroman

**HOLY COW**

Distraction is up to 73 reviews on Amazon and Hope’s Decree has 77! Posted reviews make such a difference, especially on sites such as Amazon. Thank you all for taking the time to write a review, those words mean so much! I’d like to show my thanks by giving away a few e-copies of Distraction and Hope’s Decree! All you have to do to enter is leave a comment. Tell me what plans you have for Memorial Day or what your favorite color is, whatever you want will work 🙂

2 Distraction IMG_1854-2              IMG_3572

 

Now on to my 5 Alien Star review of Adrenaline by Sunniva Dee!

Holy shit this book is amazing! Sunniva totally outdid herself with Adrenaline! This story is golden! I mean you feel so much: Passion, Raw Emotion, Humor, Sadness, and Love. Man, love and heartache drips from every page! Cam is playful and totally reminds me of a big teddy bear. He’s not extreme sports, like jumps without thinking. He scared the crap out of my a few times. Ingela is so freaking funny! She’s from Sweden and her English slang is so off at times you can’t help but laugh your ass off. Together these two steam up the page. Their chemistry is off the charts, but so is Ingela and Bo…. Enter another hottie! There isn’t really a love-triangle here, but, um, yeah. I can’t give anymore details or it’ll give the entire book away. Sorry, charlie 😉 You experience so many highs and lows, but it’s worth every bit of your time.

So I always relate my stories with songs, and two came to mind while reading Adrenaline: Florida Georgia Line’s Sipping On Fire (Cam’s song) and Taylor Swift’s Style (Bo’s song)! I’ve added each video below ❤

CAMERON

Life’s the shit!
Chicks squeal over how wild and yummy I am, play their silly games trying to tie me down. But I’m free as a bird, doing what makes life life: kicking extreme-sport-ass!

I base jump, snowboard, bungee jump. I do anything for the rush.

Then, Ingela blows into town for college—a cool Swedish blast of trouble. Foulmouthed and runway-gorgeous, the girl seeps in like poison and melts the freaking brain.

To Ingela I am what chicks were to me: pastime, leisure, entertainment, pleasure. She’s killing me, and I’m digging it. There’s a new rush in town! Yeah, I hunt down my highs, and now the chase is on. I’ll catch her soon enough, just, what’s the deal with her ex?

Florida Georgia Line’s Sippin’ On Fire

Firm breasts Adrenaline teaser

BO

With Ingela, sex is a dance. A slow tango where skin flows over skin. It is slick readiness, a quiet welcome. It’s smooth, warm, right, and all wrong.

On and off. On and off. Again, she’s wrecked with grief. It’s a reminder of how I destroy her, how crushed relationships shouldn’t be revived.

We’ve done this for years, now, but clearly we’re in for more.

Taylor Swift’s Style

Chops to love Adrenaline teaser

ADRENALINE Release Blitz with @SunnivaD

AdrenalineBlitzBanner4

Adrenaline cover

CAMERON
Life’s the shit!
Chicks squeal over how wild and yummy I am, play their silly games trying to tie me down. But I’m free as a bird, doing what makes life life: kicking extreme-sport-ass!

I base jump, snowboard, bungee jump. I do anything for the rush.

Then, Ingela blows into town for college—a cool Swedish blast of trouble. Foulmouthed and runway-gorgeous, the girl seeps in like poison and melts the freaking brain.

To Ingela I am what chicks were to me: pastime, leisure, entertainment, pleasure. She’s killing me, and I’m digging it. There’s a new rush in town! Yeah, I hunt down my highs, and now the chase is on. I’ll catch her soon enough, just, what’s the deal with her ex?

BO
With Ingela, sex is a dance. A slow tango where skin flows over skin. It is slick readiness, a quiet welcome. It’s smooth, warm, right, and all wrong.

On and off. On and off. Again, she’s wrecked with grief. It’s a reminder of how I destroy her, how crushed relationships shouldn’t be revived.

We’ve done this for years, now, but clearly we’re in for more.

c42df-addtogoodreads

Adrenaline 3D

321c9-buy_now_amazon-png

c9692-abouttheauthor

Sunniva Dee

Originally from Norway, I moved to the United States twelve years ago. I hold a Master’s degree in languages and taught Spanish at college level before settling in at the Savannah College of Art and Design as an adviser.

I write New Adult fiction, sometimes with a paranormal twist—like in “Shattering Halos,” published by The Wild Rose Press in February 24th 2014 and in “Stargazer,” released November 2014. The first book I’ve self-published was the New Adult Contemporary novel “Pandora Wild Child,” which made me a proud indie author in October 28th 2014.

I specialize in impulsive heroines, bad-boys, and good-boys running amok. Then, there’s the intense love, physical and emotional attraction beyond reason—sensory overload for the reader as well as for the characters. Like in real life, I hope you’re unable to predict what comes next in my stories.

Yes, so I write what I love to read, and depending on the reader, you’ll find my books to be a fast-paced emotional rollercoaster—or disturbing because the struggles of love aren’t your thing. Here’s to hoping you have the same reading vice as me!

3f0d5-newstalkerlinks

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Pinterest ~ Instagram

79648-excerptbanner

Chops to love Adrenaline teaser

BO
Sex is a dance with her. A slow tango where skin flows over skin. It is slick readiness, a quiet welcome. It’s smooth, warm, right, and all wrong.
There’s no move she makes I don’t preempt. When it’s new, I follow. When I’m different, she forms to me. She was the ground I walked on. The air I worshipped. The first years together she was my everything.
With Ingela, sex is love. It is guilt over not giving her what she’s worthy of.
This girl. She deserves so much. And I?
I don’t have it all.
The way she looks at me. It’s knives sharpened and twisting in my gut because the extent of her love is beyond my capacity. I tell her again, for the seventh time in five years, what the answer always must be:
“Ingela, I can’t. You are the best person I know. You deserve someone with the chops to love you hard and forever. I’m not that man.”
Again, I’ve reduced her to this; her body, the one I just took to the skies in ecstasy, wracks with grief. This is why tonight is the last time we break up. I hate myself. I have to accept that I can’t make her happy.
It’s time I quit chickening out, quit running back to her over a bleak fling and whenever I need solace. To me, she’s comfort and familiarity. I’ll never stop loving Inga.
But to her, I’m still everything.

79648-excerptbanner

Firm breasts Adrenaline teaser

CAMERON
The chase is over. Right here, right now, this is it. Even if it only lasts thirty seconds, the rush of what I’m about to do floods me and makes me feel. It’s so intense, every muscle in my body goes rigid with anticipation.
The air is sharp and early-morning raw. I stare out from my post on an overhang off Firam Peak. Let my eyes judge the steep drop into the ravine on the backside of the mountain. Jagged granite walls form unpredictable patterns that crash to the bottom the way I will soon, and a light dusting of snow contrasts starkly with the somber stone.
I shake my arms. Not to relieve the tension but to make sure I’m nimble and ready. I didn’t invite my friends, Dan and Marek, along today. I’d be better off with someone else around, of course, but nothing compares to the thrill I experience as I step forward alone. I’m on the edge now, in every sense of the word.
I draw in a breath of icy oxygen. Crack my fingers inside my gloves and adjust the strap on my helmet. I’m ready.
It’s so easy to plunge off the cliff. All I do is heave up on my toes and extend my arms. A light bend at the knees and I’m off, flying.
Ah, yes. I fly.
So good.
The wind howls around me. I’m fast—I’ve jumped a dozen times into this ravine so the speed doesn’t surprise me. When we started base jumping, Dan and I would heave ourselves as far out as we could to stay clear of the rock walls during the free-fall. With the velocity you take on, the smallest miscalculation will throw you against the ragged stone, toss you around, and beat you about like a rag doll. It’d be hard to survive.
It gets boring, though, to be careful every time. Which is why, at this point, to get that rush—the woozy bliss inundating my brain for hours afterward—I simply tip off the edge.
The wingsuit I wear is advanced technology. I stretch my arms out to the side, the fabric spanning open at my sides. A familiar sting of disappointment sings through me as I realize I’ll never fly without the squirrel suit. I can’t even begin to imagine the drug it would be to base jump with no security equipment. Straight to death, of course. I chuckle to myself at the thought.
I’m reaching the white ravine floor too quickly. Fuck, I’m lightning fast. The parachute on my back is a click away, but I postpone it, postpone it—
I’m on top of the world!
I’m so fucking alive while I plunge to what could be my last moment on Earth. I curl my body into a somersault and shout my rush out in an echo against the surrounding rock.
“Wooh-hooh!”

79648-excerptbanner

Regret and darkness Adrenaline teaser

INGELA
My cell just buzzed. It’s four in the morning on a weekday. On an instinctual level, I know who it is. I’m not one to give myself breaks; not once, not once, do I not answer when he calls, so I sit up, adrenaline diluting my blood and telling me to go-go-go.
“Stop missing me, asshole,” I say into the receiver.
Brooding, emotional, feel-sorry-for-himself, wishy-washy, sexy nightmare Bo. He’s the epitome of inconsiderate. I’ve been studying in the US for over two years now, but my ex keeps calling me from home. Not giving a damn about the time difference, he calls right when the hell he needs me.
I fumble for the light. Turn it on. Squint and clutch my phone tighter. “Hej,” I puff out next since he doesn’t respond right away.
“Hej, Inga,” he breathes back. Voice silky, like the damn singer-guitarist he is, he says what I knew he would as if he didn’t hear my initial greeting. “I miss you.”
“You’re horrible, Bo.”
“Come on, Inga—this is hard.”
I know what he means by hard. “Is it?” I ask, sitting up straighter. “Is it, now? Then, why did you break up with me for the fifteenth time in, like, what…”
I don’t want to repeat the number of years out loud. Bo and I were an item on and off between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one. All I care about right now is him shutting the hell up. Whenever I’m almost over him, he’s there again. Black-velvety soft voice in my ear, making adrenaline, my worst enemy, course through my body until I tremble.
The man on the phone drove me to the brink a while back. There’s a reason why I’m here and not in Gothenburg where I’d be subject to his erratic moods on a daily basis.
For the millionth time, I wish I didn’t remember the good parts. Me, starting out as the sixteen-year-old groupie of his local band. The parties, the fun. The endless nights in our own little world in the dump he rented with two fellow bandmates. I swallow a lump in my throat. It was supposed to be us always. Not just for a few years. And he wasn’t supposed to be… the way he is.
“Inga, did you hear what I said?” Bo whispers now, like he cares that I should be asleep at this hour.
“No.”
“I call you, and you don’t even listen?”
“Doing my best,” I say. By the displeased huff he makes, I can tell he understands; I’m doing my best at not listening to him.
“I’m accepting a scholarship to a one-year guitar clinic in Los Angeles.”
Even sitting, my knees go weak. Deepsilver, the gorgeous little college town I’ve set new roots in here on the East Coast, must be only hours from Los Angeles by plane. The pull is on my heartstrings already—I’m too close to where Bo will be.
“Why?” I ask. “They can’t teach you anything here that you can’t learn in Gothenburg, I’m sure. And the band—are they replacing you?”
He puffs a snicker. “Naw. I don’t think so.” Bo is aware that he’s the chick magnet of the bunch and the reason they’ve been doing decent as a college band since they moved to the big city.
“I might check in with some labels while I’m in L.A. The band is with me on this. Probably heading over too, if I can scrounge up some gigs for us. Maybe we’ll tour the East Coast. How about that, Inga? We’ll pop by your little town.”
“Uh-huh, whatever.” I hurt. I try not to admit it to myself, but I miss him so much. The need to have him with me under my covers sucker-punches me. No one. No one is like Bo in bed. I feel the ghost of his hands on my skin as he lets out a quiet laugh on the other end.
“You’re so silly, Ingela. Just give it up already. I’ll take a couple of days in Deepsilver on my way there, okay? I’ll treat you well.”
I blush. There’s a reason to his sexy chuckle, to his sudden promise. As soon as I’m the slightest bit turned on, my breathing stops cooperating. Five years of on-and-off dating has Bo tuned in to the smallest changes in me the way he is to his guitar. So yes, he’s completely aware of his effect on me.
“Fuck you,” I mumble.
“Do you swear as much in English as you do in Swedish?” he purrs like he’s describing dirty pleasures.
“None of your—”
“—goddamn business?”
“Yeah, that. Bye, dick.”

79648-excerptbanner

Bar brawl bite Adrenaline teaser

CAMERON
Sex, for instance. Damn straight, sex is a major high. I curve a hand around Inga’s waist, kneading, and she lets out a happy sigh. Some tumbles are more exciting than others, of course. Some chicks are more fiery than others.
I look down Inga’s supermodel body. She’s skinny, muscular in a feminine way and almost as tall as me. Small, firm breasts. I know they’re firm because I’ve felt her up more than once. I want to feel them right now, actually. I wonder if she’d consider me as a fuck buddy if I worked up the nerve to ask? The thought of that high I crave so badly tenses my jaw.
I inch my hand up across her belly, covering my move from an audience with the other arm. Ingela squirms to get more comfortable in my lap. She lifts her elbow enough for me to sneak up even higher under her shirt.
I’m easy. Just the thought of this little indiscretion makes my adrenal gland squirt its drug into my blood. Is her bra too tight? Will she allow me to cup her boob right here between our friends?
I kiss her temple. A small grin plays on her sleepy mouth. To me, Ingela’s the ultimate girl. Ever since she first cussed me out with a big smile on her face, since she gave me a bite mark on my upper thigh in a make-believe bar brawl, I’ve been in deep. For a girl, she’s fucking up there.
Not that I love her. No, people I simply enjoy being with. I don’t love them. Well, obviously Mom—my big bro, Patrick, the hotshot pilot. But that’s it. At thirteen, I realized that the only thing I’ve ever really loved is the sensation of being one hundred percent alive. In the everyday grind—school, work, colleagues, friends—you merely trot along. There’s no gallop, no living to the max.
No mental, wicked, ace living.
I grin wide.
“What’s that face for?” BB girl Beth squints my way. She’s got a thing for me, probably because I’ve never fucked her and she’s curious. I’ve had several of her colleagues. BB girls are easier lays than Smother girls.
Robin snorts. “Bet he’s thinking about next weekend. Dude’s got the weekend off and is spending his tip money on stupid shit.”
I laugh at that, and Ingela groans, uncomfortable at my chest rocking against her.
“What’re you doing?” Beth asks. “Something extreme again?” Her eyes go to my broken finger.
I shrug the shoulder Ingela isn’t resting on. “I heal fast. Plus, the ticket’s been paid for since Christmas. I’d go with a broken back.”
Beth sucks in a girly breath, and I smell acting. “Oh, don’t say that—you’re jinxing yourself, Cam. Don’t get hurt out there.”
She’s full of it. I always get myself hurt.
“Don’t go,” Ingela slurs.
“What, darlin’?” I drawl out. Clearly, I’ve heard wrong.
“Don’t. Go.” She doesn’t say it louder, just more pronounced.
“Hmm. You’ll miss me now?” She arches her back the tiniest bit, and it’s the little shift I need to slip a few digits in under her bra. Five seconds later, I’ve cupped that sweet little tit of hers. So soft and warm.
“Perv,” she tells me but doesn’t object to my groping ways.

79648-excerptbanner

11117805_10206475325192952_101270566_n

INGELA
Troy or Roy is the last one to get off his barstool. Dude’s been on his ass the entire night. It’s three a.m., I’ve grabbed a broom, and I’m sweeping beneath his chair.
“Ingela…” he slurs out, blinking slowly. “You know I like you, right? You must’ve noticed.”
“Uh-huh—you need a cab, honey?” I inquire.
“Naw, I was thinking… do you want to, um, go on a date with me?” He’s so drunk I don’t think he had to work up the courage to ask. Unless you count the months he’s been sitting on that stool without broaching the subject.
“Nope, I don’t,” I say and pat his cheek.
He instantly turns whiny. “Whyyy?” He drags the word out like Lyric does. “You’re such a hottie and shit.”
I try to lift one of his stool legs high enough to pull out the wadded-up napkin stuck underneath it. “Whatevs, and you need to go home. We’re closed.”
“Oh yeah, but you’ll be open again tomorrow anyway. Or hey, today,” the smartass says. Stupid me buys into the conversation.
“I’m off to bed, dude. We all have to sleep at some point.”
As I stand, he snatches my hand in a drunken plea. “Oh, Inga—pretty Inga—say ‘yes’ to a date? You’re my… uh. Number ten.”
Whatever that means. “Nope, don’t want to,” I tell him. “Go home or I’m calling Jason to butt you out of here. See ya later, buddy.”
He whimpers and stands. Wobbles. Then, he narrows his eyes at me. “You Swedes are different, huh? Okay, how about no date, just—I’ll take you straight to bed?”
From his expression, he thinks he’s onto something. Sure, I could be in that mood. Tonight, for instance, as tired as I am, I still don’t feel like going home alone. I’d love to wake up with company—only the concept doesn’t involve overly drunk guys I’ve never felt an inkling of attraction to.
I jump when a strong hand curls around my upper arm. “Troy,” Cam says behind me. “Leave Inga alone. We’ll get you a taxi home, okay?”
Troy’s face slowly morphs to offended as he plops down on the stool again. “Oh, so he can touch you? I’ve seen you two—you let him frenchie you, even. What does he have, huh?”
A single snicker hits my ear from Cameron. “You think she should be fair? If she kisses me, she should kiss you too?”
I grin. That is a funny concept. Fairness in kisses.
The guy huffs, mad. “Don’t get what’s so special about…” He tilts his chin to Cameron but tries to focus on my face as he speaks.
Cam interrupts, though, letting go of me and moving over to Troy. “It’s time, cuddle-bun. We’ll find you someone nice tonight if you’re not too hung over, all right? Inga’s busy.”
“I am?” I say, catching Cam’s gaze as he stacks Troy on his feet and accommodates his arm around his neck to haul him off.
“Ass,” Troy mumbles but doesn’t resist.
“I’m going home with you,” Cam explains to me.
I get butterflies at that. At how sure he sounds when he tells me. He winks over Troy’s lolling head and mouths, Stay put.

(Click the pic below to enter giveaway)

c87a7-newgiveaway

Adrenaline Full

ButtonXBT

Cover Reveal for Love Always, Damian by @dNicholeKing

A Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Love Always, Damian 
(Love Always #2)

by

D. Nichole King

Published by: Limitless Publishing
Release Date: May 26th 2015

LoveAlwaysDamian_Amazon

They say time heals all wounds.

What a load of bull. It’s been four years, and Kate’s voice still echoes in my mind.

Every. Damn. Day.

I numb her memory when it taunts me. In college, I drown her out with booze and easy lays. I can’t do what she asked.

I can’t let her go.

Not even when Lia shows up, freaking ripping what’s left of me to shreds. Caring about someone isn’t worth the deadness that follows after they’re gone. I didn’t ask for this. Didn’t ask for her.

And I sure as hell didn’t plan to miss her when she walked out of my front door.

Now, if I want to keep her, I have to straighten myself out and earn her. I can’t screw this up.

Because if I do, I’ll lose more than just Lia.

I’ll lose my life.

1c7d3-add-to-goodreads

(click below to enter the giveaway)

079b5-giveaway

c9692-abouttheauthor

DNichole

Born and raised in Iowa, d. Nichole King writes her stories close to home. There’s nothing like small-town Midwest scenery to create the perfect backdrop for an amazing tale.

She wrote her first book in junior high and loved every second of it. However, she couldn’t bring herself to share her passion with anyone. She packed it away until one day, with the encouragement of her husband, she sat down at the computer and began to type. Now, she can’t stop.

When not writing, d. is usually curled up with a book, scrapbooking, or doing yet another load of laundry.

Along with her incredible husband, she lives in small-town Iowa with her four adorable children and their dog, Peaches.

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. A man who never reads lives only one.” –George R. R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

*Author links*
Twitter ~ Website ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads

(Click on picture to purchase Love Always, #1)

11181907_1556728894587918_2139014038_o

LoveAlwaysDamian_jacket

ButtonXBT

5 Alien Stars Review

The emotions Mrs. King is able to manifest just blows my mind. I can’t begin to explain how much I loved this series. So. Freaking. Good. Every. Single. Page. You won’t be disappointed, promise! Simply, wow. Full review to come. 😀

Author Takeover

Hey, everyone! I’m hosting a week long takeover with author pal, Lynn Vroman. We’ll be talking books, characters, playing games, and just hanging out, and giveaways, of course 😉 You can also sign up to win a kindle along with other cool stuff. Don’t be shy, Lynn and I love talking with everyone ❤

10478984_1642696105945968_2012133855416974183_o

(click on pic for link)

SUMMER CONFESSIONS by @lynn_vroman Release Blitz

SCreleaseblitz

Young Adult, Contemporary Romance, LGBT

SUMMER CONFESSIONS
By Lynn Vroman

Release Date: March 10, 2015
Published by: Untold Press

b7329-addtogoodreads
SummerConfessions

A southern young adult LGBT contemporary romance

Macy Diaz has managed childhood friend Jeb Porter’s crush for years. However, his infatuation turns to obsession, even putting a kid in the hospital just for hitting on her. In the past, Macy brushed it off, explained his bizarre acts away. But now she harbors a secret. She’s in love…with Jeb’s sister, Rachel.

By some miracle, Rachel loves Macy back, and despite the small minds polluting their sleepy southern town, they’re sticking together. Unfortunately, making sure Jeb never grows suspicious proves harder every day—until everything falls apart.

As a sick, unstable Jeb starts to threaten all Macy values, she is reminded of what has always been perfectly clear. Macy belongs to him, only him, and he won’t let her go. Ever.

If only Macy could’ve loved Jeb, she wouldn’t have to worry about surviving him now.

Jeb

321c9-buy_now_amazon-png

 

About the Author

lynn vroman

Lynn Vroman

Born in Pennsylvania, Lynn spent most of her childhood, especially during math class, daydreaming. The main result that came from honing her imagination skills was brilliantly failing algebra. Today, she still spends an obscene amount of time in her head, only now she writes down all the cool stuff.

With a degree in English Literature, Lynn used college as an excuse to read for four years straight. She lives in the Pocono Mountains with her husband, raising the four most incredible human beings on the planet. She writes young adult novels, both fantasy and contemporary.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon

Other Books to Enjoy by Lynn Vroman

(click on cover for buy links)

Tainted Energy

(Energy, #1)

TaintedEnergyCover

Lost Energy 

(Energy, #2)

AALost

Excerpt #1

Church ain’t so bad, especially since Pastor Bill brought in the cushioned pews. It was kind of nice how my butt stayed awake, even if my eyes didn’t want to. But one glance at Mama’s scowl, and I knew better than to check out while we all got our morality medicine for the week.

“…and don’t forget, y’all need to bring a dish for the Fourth of July planning party. My Jenny’s makin’ her sweet cornbread muffins.” Pastor Bill gave his wife an adoring look and patted his big belly. “Until then, I’ll see each and every one of you next Sunday.”

I smiled. The torture was over.

In polite, orderly fashion, we all filed out of the small church that had been around since Papaw first moved here in the 1960s. I did my best to avoid the obligatory handshake with the man who ruined every Sunday morning, but he was quick for a fat guy. “Buenos días, Senora Diaz.”

Crap.

Pastor Bill’s Appalachian twang hurt my ears. The way he butchered his Spanish, that damn accent making him sound like the hick he was, had me grinding my back teeth.

“Nice sermon, Pastor.” Mama didn’t understand a lick of Spanish, but she’d never let the good pastor know it. Didn’t matter to him we were as southern as every other smelly country bumpkin in Pittman Center.
“Why, thank you.” His bloated hand covered hers. “Don’t forget the party. I do love me some Mexican food.”

Dumbass. We’re Puerto Rican.

“I wouldn’t miss it for nothing.” She slid her hand out of his sweaty grasp, a forced smile on her lips.
We walked down the old cement steps toward the mowed field everyone used as the parking lot, batting at the gnats buzzing around our heads. “When you gonna tell him we ain’t Mexican?”
“As soon as you can stay awake for the whole sermon.”

Macyimage5

Excerpt #2

Face still burning, trying to act as cool and laidback as my friend, I shrugged and looked at Rachel. “You going, too?”
She smiled, her overbite hardly noticeable after three years in braces. “I’m being forced to by my big ape of a brother.” She nudged Jeb, who kept his eyes on me the entire time. “He promised to take me into Sevierville on Friday if I hung out with y’all today.”
I cleared my throat, hoping I didn’t sound as awkward as I felt. “What’s doing there on Friday?”
“Poetry reading. Y’all should come with.” She put her hands on her hips and held up her dainty chin. “The theme is the feminine mystique.”
Ana and Jeb rolled their eyes, while I tried hard not to nod too fast. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
Rachel beamed. “I’d like that.”
“Uh, hey, on second thought, maybe I’ll skip the movie, tag along. I could add some male mystique.” Jeb nodded in that way I’m sure he thought made him look sexy. He did have the looks, with all that blond hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. His sister had the same eyes…but bluer. So much bluer, like I could drown in them kind of blue.
Ana snorted, bringing my mind back into the kitchen.
My face grew hotter as I averted my eyes to focus on my white heels. “Sounds like a date, then.”
“I think it does,” Jeb said.
“All right, all right. Why don’t you two go round up a few others? Macy and I will head over as soon as she changes.” Ana shoved me toward the stairs, not waiting for a reply.
“So, y’all will be along soon, right?” Jeb’s deep voice followed, a hint of panic making it sound higher than usual.
“Yes, yes, just go on, now.” Ana waved him off with a laugh, and whispered, “I swear that boy can’t be more obvious.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, sure you don’t.” Ana leaned closer. “When you gonna break his heart and tell him you like his sister?”

summerconfessionsimage3

Excerpt #3

All right, don’t do it. Don’t say nothing stupid. But the last thing I wanted to talk about was her brother. “You know how Papaw and I go deep sea fishing every year? Near the gulf?”
Oh, damn. Too late.
She tilted her head as I held out my hand for the sketchpad. After another second of hesitation, she plopped it into my hands. “Yeah?”
I adjusted her back into the original pose and continued to draw. “Well, every year, when we’re sitting on that boat in the middle of nowhere, I spend more time trying to get the right color blue on my pad than I do fishing.” I kept my eyes on the drawing, my fingers shaking a bit. “You can’t imagine how blue that water is. So clear, so deep…inviting. It takes all I got not to jump overboard and let it close over me. It’s like a Siren. You know, how the Sirens sung those sailors to their death?”
I looked up long enough to watch her nod. Her fingers weren’t twitching to cover her mouth anymore.
“Anyway, it’s so perfect, the blue? Like nothing else I’ve ever seen.” Here it comes, the nail in the coffin. “Except when I look in your eyes. That water’s got nothing on your eyes, Rachel.”
I became hyperaware. I heard the boys fighting and Ana calling them names. Listened to Jackson burp and give his opinion on starting fires, too. I also heard Rachel’s screaming silence. Nothing was as loud as that silence.

Summer Confessions-Teaser

Excerpt #4

“All right, here goes nothing.” She hopped off the rock to stand right in front of me. “You remember, after I told you, that Bubba didn’t want to see me again?”
“Yeah, and I gave him a what-for and threatened to tell Jeb if he didn’t apologize.”
She laughed a little and brushed her hair back, her fingers still shaking. “I remember. He was so scared. But he had no reason to apologize.”
“Ah, yes, he did.”
“No. He didn’t break up with me. I broke up with him.”
“Okay, I know you’re going somewhere with this, but…”
“Yes, just listen.” She took a slow breath. “After we–you know–it felt…wrong. Not wrong like ‘we shouldn’t be having sex’ wrong, but like wrong, you know?”
Impatient was too soft a word for what I felt at that moment. “No, I don’t know ’cause I never had sex before.”
“Well, I didn’t know why either up until a few months ago.” Another tear dripped from her left eye.
I jumped off the rock before I could convince myself not to and hugged her. “You can tell me anything, Rachel. I won’t tell.”
She hugged me back and buried her face in my neck. “Promise you won’t hate me.”
“Now that’s a promise I know I can keep.”
“It was wrong ’cause he wasn’t…you.”

SCreview

LEON’S WAY Release Day Blitz with Sunniva Dee :D

LeonsWayBlitzBanner

Leon’s Way

by

Sunniva Dee

Publication date: December 19th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Leon

Synopsis:

I’m Leon , number one object of Deepsilver’s rumor mill. Owner of student hotspot, Smother.

Since I was sixteen, the world has been mine. I do everything—
My way.

Every co-ed in town clenches her thighs over me, but most don’t fit the bill. See, I like my girls broken . Once I detect my shade of don’t-give-a-fuck damaged, I fight hard, I fight dirty, and I don’t give up until—
I conquer.

Drunk fathers and frequent beatings don’t merit attention, but when my despicable dad starts the process of croaking, I’m forced to remember. Thus, the downward spiral begins: my latest broken-girl turns the tables on me and splits. My hot-as-hell employee, Arriane, throws me the curve ball of a lifetime. And suddenly—
I’m out of control.

But at the center of my chaos, she exists. Always close, always sweet, and so beautifully fucking… wholesome. She represents everything I’ve shied from in a woman. Still—
I crave her.

I’m Leon, and I don’t deny my cravings. Just—this girl is not surrendering. So here I am, fighting harder. Fighting dirtier. And goddammit all, I will—
Conquer.

GIVEAWAY
Blitz-wide giveaway (INT)
$50 Amazon gift card

<a class=”rcptr” href=”http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0142486f11/&#8221; rel=”nofollow” data-raflid=”0142486f11″ data-theme=”classic” data-template=”” id=”rcwidget_7ibxmkbl”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src=”//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js”></script>

20038-goodreadscopy

 

Leons Way teaser 1

321c9-buy_now_amazon-png

5866f-newauthorbio

 

Sunniva Dee
Originally from Norway, I moved to the United States twelve years ago. I hold a Master’s degree in languages and taught Spanish at college level before settling in at the Savannah College of Art and Design as an adviser.

I write New Adult fiction, sometimes with a paranormal twist—like in “Shattering Halos,” published by The Wild Rose Press in February 24th 2014 and in “Stargazer,” released November 2014. The first book I’ve self-published was the New Adult Contemporary novel “Pandora Wild Child,” which made me a proud indie author in October 28th 2014.

I specialize in impulsive heroines, bad-boys, and good-boys running amok. Then, there’s the intense love, physical and emotional attraction beyond reason—sensory overload for the reader as well as for the characters. Like in real life, I hope you’re unable to predict what comes next in my stories.

Yes, so I write what I love to read, and depending on the reader, you’ll find my books to be a fast-paced emotional rollercoaster—or disturbing because the struggles of love aren’t your thing. Here’s to hoping you have the same reading vice as me!

0dc25-authorlinks

de43f-bloodwhitebutton-websitesmall50995-facebookbuttonf8f3b-twitterbutton35a9c-waxcreative-goodreads

instagram

44d49-pinterest-icon

LEON’S WAY — Excerpts

1) This is my bar. My party.

And she’s mine.
My girlfriend’s eyes shine with happiness and relief. Only she isn’t beaming at me. She brushes my hand off her thigh and stands up on her barstool, waving. Smiling a beautiful smile she has never graced me with.
I look past the partiers on my club’s terrace, following her focus. I ignore the colors of the sky, the explosions from the New-Year’s fireworks, and detect him as easily as she did.
Dominic stands at the top of the stairs like some chick-flick hero.
He wrestles to get past Jason, one of my bouncers. Dominic’s eyes are trained on my—my—Pandora with so much fucking emotion I want to jab them out.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I grind to Pandora when she hops down to meet him. I’ve fought too hard to let this happen. In a few minutes, a new year starts, and she’s in it, goddammit, with me; she’s not taking off with another man.
How the hell did he get into Smother in the first place? My bouncers are useless! One simple task I laid on them tonight: don’t let Dominic in.
Pandora started out as a challenge to me. I knew I’d snagged her late, that she had a history with the pretty-boy. But he’s labeled “Perfect Dominic” on her cell, which is the very reason why she’s with me and not him.
Yeah, Pandora and I, we are the same. We’re each other’s brand of screwed-up, and guess fucking what? I’m not about to let her forget. I never lose, and I control my world with the precision of a puppeteer, but—
The strings are fraying.
My dolls aren’t obeying.
Behind me, my second-in-charge, Christian, calls my name. He doesn’t recognize me, not now that I shove my girlfriend past the counter and use her body to crash through the door to the storage room.
I barely register Pandora’s eyes going huge with terror. Her fear…. it’s beyond the kind I get off on. She’s panicking—but so am I.
Because she can’t. Fucking. Choose. Him.
My mind blurs. Then, it checks out. The glittering rainbow of colors in the sky means squat when a sole shade of red tinges my vision.
“Leon! What the hell are you doing?” Pandora shrieks.
I am primal. A warrior. A caveman. I thrust her hard against the shelves. I am a wolf biting down on her neck, silencing her.
“I’ll fix this, Pandora—I’ll be right back,” I growl. Then I close the door behind me. Lock, lock her in and pocket the key. She’s going crazy in there, wailing for me to open—pleading—
Soon, I can’t hear her because I have charged past Jason, and I’m at Dominic’s throat. “You!” I shout. “You little shit. I will destroy you!”

 

 

2) The man I’ve loved for years is going ballistic. Books, glasses, and candles ricochet off the walls and crash to the floor. The low growl contained in his throat unleashes as he hurls his stereo at the window, making the glass panes shatter on impact.
“She fucking left me for him!”
He spins and locks on me. When Leon stares at you, he consumes you. He traps you in a small, flustered vacuum where he’s all that matters. “Leon… you’ll be okay,” I begin, but my voice trembles.
I can’t wrap my mind around this meltdown. Nothing ruffles him, nothing surprises him; in all my years at the club, I’ve never seen fissures in the marble of my boss’ beautiful façade. With the exception of his girlfriends, everything he touches remains orderly, and yet he’s losing it so completely right now.
This state he’s in… It doesn’t rock my need to be there for him. I—
Am always close.
He’s my love. My unreciprocated love, because I am just Arriane, his left hand, the favorite bartender. Not one of the dolls he breaks.
Leon’s chest lifts and sinks with his turmoil. “I’ve never worked to keep someone the way I did with her. Fuck, I did everything I could while all he needed to do was barge into Smother. He fucking stole her from under my nose!” Angry tears glitter, drifting over surreally blue irises.
“Stole?” He’s delusional.

 

 

3) I am the devil. What did she ever do to deserve this? She’s my employee and an innocent bystander who’s nothing like my usual contenders.
Still, I prowl up over Arriane on the mattress, the way I’ve done with countless women before. Straddling her, I’m on all fours, dipping down just enough to blow lightly on her mouth, making her gasp.
I have no excuse for acting like this. I can’t claim to be drunk on this aftermath of a New Year’s Eve. No, I just can’t deal with what happened earlier tonight. I want to forget how I lost my shit, the way I rebuffed Pandora’s lack of commitment to me.
Arriane’s hair is midnight-black like mine. It’s long and so silky it shines even in the dim lighting of my bedroom. First, I slide the simple black hairband out of her ponytail. Next, I fan her mane out over my pillow.
“You should wear your hair down more,” I tell her, and the small hump on her throat lifts in an anxious swallow. I draw back for an instant, studying her.
“You like it?” she murmurs. She seems surprised.
I slide a glossy lock between two fingers and watch it spill back to the pillow. “Of course I do. It’s fucking beautiful.”
Three years ago, I was running low on employees, and in walked this girl, this sweet twenty-year-old who needed money. Like most people in the college town of Deepsilver, Arriane came here for her degree. Only she doesn’t come from an affluent family, and tuition is expensive. Since then, she’s worked more at Smother than she has studied. Whenever I need someone, I turn, and Arriane is there, ready to pick up the slack. Beautiful, loyal Arriane.
“Your eyes are violet,” I state, because I hadn’t noticed before; she works for me, and I don’t get involved with my employees.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “No one else in my family—” she starts, but then I lick her lips and she gives off a quiet moan. I like that sound.
4) Curiosity kills cats I hear, and I’ve died a million deaths over the years. Now, I’m ready for the slaughterhouse—for a new sort of death, a tougher, harder death.
I should not have come upstairs.
Should not have been with him.
Should not have insisted on going all the way.
My heart skips. I dress quickly and slink into the living room. Leon has cleaned everything up. The room is as tidy as it was before his breakdown hours ago. A blanket covers the broken window, and I’m sure he’s already called the installers.
In the kitchen, fresh coffee steams from the coffeemaker. A plate covered with cling wrap waits on the table. It has my name on it.
“I’m sorry,” the note begins.
“I’m sorry I took advantage of you, Arriane.” I blink over treacherous, stupid tears, because the words hurt and I’m the one who should apologize. I took advantage of him—his desperation. I start reading again.
“I’m sorry I took advantage of you, Arriane. It will never happen again.”
I finish the breakfast spread he’s made for me. Pour coffee into a mug. My heart’s still alive when I walk down the stairs and into the bar with my cup in hand. I don’t consider the damage the New Year’s crowd did to my decorations. Spilled beer and half-dried cocktails glue me to the floor, trying to keep me from his office. My shoes stick and rip free from the floor, alerting Leon of my proximity. I lose courage. I want to go home and postpone this.
“Arriane?” Leon’s voice sieves out so softly. Like we’re different now.
I inhale. Riip to the office slowly. Hurry with the last steps before I can change my mind. Then I peek in through the half-open door.
“You called?” I say, swallowing. I haven’t showered yet and smell of us. I have the early shift at work today, and I forgot to tie my hair back into a ponytail. Lord knows where the hairband is—I don’t. Slowly, I edge my face behind the thick sheet of my hair. His scent on me teases, causing a jab to my heart. Woodsy cologne, sex, and wrongness.
5) No one yells as loudly as Ingela. No one. I puff out a breath and start getting dressed. A single wall divides the kitchen from my bathroom, and seriously, if she whispered my name, I’d hear her.
“Still here,” I breathe out as a test.
“Well, you’re taking forever, and Cam has a question for you! Come out!” she screams.
Whatever question our fellow bartending colleague has, we both know it has to do with hairy triangles and that the answer is, and should always be, “no.” I’m also pretty sure he doesn’t want her to ask me because they all think I’m the runner-up boss at the bar. Even Ingela, only she has no respect for authority. The staff as a whole has decided it must be a cultural thing. We’re starting to believe everyone in Northern Europe has this as a birth defect.
I’m impressed with how well Leon handles Ingela. A month ago, she appeared at Smother with blue eyes shining and a wide smile lighting her face. “I’m Ingela, I’m an international exchange student, and I like your bar, so I shall work here,” she had explained. “I need a job because I’m totally, totally broke.”
I don’t ask, but my guess is she’s in the country on a student visa. Leon must be taking his chances with the IRS by paying her under the table.
Thankfully, Ingela’s little phone chat is over by the time I’m out of the bathroom.
“You missed out.” She nods, her signature broad grin in place. Short honey-blond bangs hop over her perfect eyebrows as she speaks. “Cameron is…” she frowns, thinking. “Heell—hellar—” Then, she cops out and goes, “Funny.”
“Hilarious?” I suggest, and she smacks her hands together.
“Yeah! Hilarious.”
“So, not ‘rude as hell’ or ‘gross?’”
Ingela cups her mouth with a palm, laughing. “Oh yes, uh-huh! He called just to be gross with me.”
I’m not surprised—at either of them. Ingela grabs the last piece of whole-wheat toast with liver pate and shoves it into her mouth. With the other hand, she ruffles the short layers of hair brushing her neck. “I have class first, but I’ll be at work in…” she checks her watch, “bah, when I get bored. Or soon anyway. I’ll take the campus bus—the Silver Line. It drops me off by Smother.”
“Okay, so you won’t be late?” I ask.
Ingela dons washed-out jeans peppered with holes. Tall and skinny, the stereotype of a Scandinavian girl hikes her odd little backpack up on a shoulder and strides to the door. “Never.” She bats her lashes.

 

LW 3D kindle

6) Leon is a private man, and I shouldn’t pry. Still, sometimes when you don’t think, you jump in. And I?
I can’t let him hurt alone.
I take the steps over to the tall table he sits at with his accounting. I don’t stop until my hand touches his cheek.
“Leon?” I ask, my heart slowing with worry.
He sucks in a breath at my touch, thick lashes dropping. Lightly, he bends into my palm and I feel it, the stubble I dream of. It pricks like kitten-paw-soft cacti against my skin.
“What’s wrong?”
I expect him to brush me off, get up. Become his business-self. Give me a low, clear order I can carry out for him.
But Leon’s knees slide apart, making room for my body. His hands scoot around me, pulling me into him, and something shifts in my womb even though it’s probably too early.
His sigh is so heavy. Arms spread over my back, fingers pressing into flesh, fanning upward until a fist curls around my neck. The pinch is painful as he nudges me closer, bending so he can delve in against my throat.
“Just family stuff scrambling my brain,” he whispers. Can he hear my heartbeat? It’s fast, insistent. Hopeful. When I dare to move my arms from their frozen, low-slung sides, it’s to link them into his embrace. He turns my face to him and kisses me, first chastely on the mouth, until I open and he deepens the kiss.
He finds bare skin under my shirt, and as we make out, he forces a hand into the crack at the top of my jeans.
I let him.
I want him happy.
Not thinking, I lift a foot up on the railing of his barstool as he scoots out on his seat enough to leave only fabric between us. He puffs a grunt into my ear. “Wait, let me…” he begins but trails off in favor of action. Deft fingers undo my jeans button and unzip my fly. “Much better. I couldn’t get to you.”
I gasp when his fingers find my entrance from behind, easing in, showing both of us how quickly I heat for him.
“Sweetie, the guys will be down any minute—”
Leon cuts me off with a stinging slap on my ass, ending his violent caress with a firm grasp on the butt cheek he spanked. “Trust me.”
I do. I—
He holds me while he fingers me.
The boys laugh at the top of the stairs. “Nah, I’m good,” Christian rumbles. “Got my Shannon—she keeps me busy. But go for it. They say once you go threesome, you’ll never want to go back.”
Cameron howls with laughter, their high-five ringing down to us. “Damn, that’d be awesome. Gotta find me some chicks who’ll be into it more than once. I mean how ’bout forever, am I right?”
If I hadn’t been drowning in Leon’s world, I’d roll my eyes again at Cameron.
“Sure, and marry both of them. In different states before you all move to a third one,” Christian helps.
“You. Are. A. Genius,” Funny-Cam bursts out. “Or in a different country! Sweden.”
“Ingela, huh?” Christian asks.
“Yeah, I might’ve suggested it to her. She said I was, and I quote, ‘gross.’”
Christian’s reply is dry. “Go figure.”

Leons Way teaser 2

 

7) Jason is being particularly dense tonight. I’ve shown him three times how I want the new ropes to work outside the entrance to Smother, but he keeps opening them so the line becomes shorter and less organized. I show him again.
I move on to Tom, Jason’s gym rat friend, whom I hired as a bouncer over a month ago. The man still hasn’t gotten the part where my exes need to stay clear of the club. I cross my arms and tip my chin up so I can stare down at him despite his hulk-sized stature.
“Tom. I realize there are a few to remember, but when they ask for me—and in particular when they claim to be my girlfriend—there’s no way in hell it’s not one of them, okay? Even if Jason isn’t nearby and can verify your suspicion, just send them off.”
Tom crinkles a freckled brow, thinking. “But what if they’re not lying? I wouldn’t want to send the lady off if she really is your girlfriend, Boss.” His worry lines smoothen, indicating that he’s satisfied with his reply, and I remind myself that I didn’t hire him for his ability to flex brain muscle.
One of the new bartenders, Jen, waves from the dance floor. Once she has my attention, she points at two guys shoving at each other while dancing couples give room around them. I nod once. “Jason. Fight inside.”
“On it, sir.” He plods off, on a mission.
I pull in a breath, getting ready to explain the self-explanatory in regard to girlfriends. “Tom, did any of the girls you let in last night look like Arriane?”
“Boss? No…”
“Here’s the deal. Unless I tell you otherwise, Arria is my only girlfriend. Anyone else is fucking lying. Understood?”
Tom blinks. “Yes sir.”
“Good. Now, assist Jason with the jerk-offs inside, and I’ll keep an eye out here in the meantime.”
Tonight’s sad as hell. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad Arria obeyed and stayed at her apartment with Ingela after yesterday’s scare with the ER visit, but I’m not digging her absence. There’s no happy hips wiggling and tempting me behind the bar counter, no sweet smile whenever I zoom in and catch her attention, and no stolen squeezes.

 

 

8) I change immediately, even bind my hands. At the moment, gloves defeat the purpose for me, but a little tape never hurts. I’ve got my system. I know what works. Besides having kinky-ass sex, this and my bike are the only things that calm me down. Bare-chested and in black dojo pants, I rage into the heavy bag.
The music from the club thunders through the floor, but I need more, so I shove in a CD before I continue. The collision between the tunes downstairs and my own death metal make me want to break into a crazy laugh.
I don’t, though, because I’m spending my energy on this. For every punch, I visualize my father’s face when I took him down at sixteen. The shock, the bruises, the blood I left him with. The fucking cracked collarbone.
Something surges in me at the thought—I force everything else away.
I tear into the medium bag. Tear at it, tear at it—killing the damn thing like I wish I’d done to him. The mirror tosses back my glistening shape.
What evil god let him survive the stroke?
I snarl out my disappointment, joining the chorus of ugly roars from the stereo, and I don’t stop, don’t stop killing him until a hand touches my shoulder. I freeze, because not even here, in my sanctuary, am I less than one step from control.
My chest rasps with need for oxygen. I realize I have none left, and my lungs can’t pull it in fast enough. In the mirror, I see her, small, scared, watching me gulp down air. She’s smothered in this music that’s straight from hell, the opposite of anything she represents, and the baby—
Shit, the baby can’t be hearing this!
I bound to the stereo and power it off. From below, a ballad slinks into our bubble, and I stare at her, wordless.
Enormous eyes flicker with compassion. With slow, tentative steps, she narrows in cautiously, like I’m the frightened one. I cover my face with my hands. Shut her out. Move back into the corner I’m in.
“Sweetie,” she whispers.

LW 2 3D covers