Showing posts with label Reading Addiction Book Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reading Addiction Book Tours. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Good Cop (Heroes of Henderson Book 1) by Liz Kelly



This post contains affiliate links which will earn me a small commission when clicked on. 


Good Cop (Heroes of Henderson)



Romance
Heroes of Henderson, Book 1
Publisher: Kelly Girl Productions

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FREE until the end of the Year!!!


What happens when best friends fall for the same girl?
A bromance, a romance, and a love triangle.
Local sports heroes Brooks Bennett and Vance Evans are used to being part of a winning team. Yet when it comes to romance their good cop, bad cop images have them handcuffed. They want a woman’s point of view to help unshackle their reputations, and they’ve picked out one pretty, pony-tailed firecracker to do it.
Lolly DuVal longs for a summer fling that can set off all her bells and whistles. So she agrees to tutor Henderson’s hunkiest heroes on what women really want. But now she finds herself caught between two cops and a hard place. And those bells and whistles? They are starting to sound a whole lot more like alarms.


Purchase Links



The Newest Release in the Heroes of Henderson Romance Series
Release Day – October 24, 2017

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Mr. Wright Heroes of Henderson, Book 6

Publisher: Kelly Girl Productions
Release Date: October 24, 2017


After Dallas, Laidey Bartholomew finds Henderson to be a breath of fresh air. Out from under the expectations of her socialite family, she can be as invisible as she chooses. She’s perfectly happy flying under the radar, until a hot-tempered, masculine work of art roars into town on his Road King and zeroes in on her.

All of a sudden, Laidey’s not invisible anymore.

Xavier Wright hasn’t lived in Henderson for fourteen years. You’d think by now everyone would have forgotten about his juvenile antics. Knowing his sick ma doesn’t need any additional stress in her life, he’s determined to make amends for his bad-boy ways. Unfortunately, a certain little newcomer continually brings out the worst in him.

She’s way too prissy for him. He’s way too domineering for her.

Harry believes it’s a match made in heaven.

All the books in the Heroes of Henderson Series are complete romances. They do not need to be read in order, but it might be more fun that way as characters continue to show up in Henderson in big ways and small.

Amazon * B&N * Kobo * iTunes


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Heroes of Henderson Reading Order



About the Author


Growing up every summer in a place where dancing and romancing are literally part of its theme song, Liz Kelly can't help but be a romantic at heart. And since her favorite author, Kathleen E. Woodiwiss wrote some of the world’s greatest romances, she's just trying to give the world a little more of that. (Okay, maybe a little sexier that, but we are now in a new millennium after all.)

A graduate of Wake Forest University, where she met her handsome golf-addicted husband, (who is now sporting dark glasses everywhere he goes) Liz is a mother of two grown sons (also sporting dark glasses) and a miniature Labradoodle named Annabelle. They split their time between The Windy City of Chicago and the Fountain of Youth, a.k.a. Naples, FL where dancing and romancing continues on ad infinitum.

Contact Links




Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Friday, January 23, 2015

Read an excerpt from 'Dangerously Forever' by A.M. Griffin




Erotic Romance / Sci-Fi
Date Published: December 26, 2014

Loving Dangerously, Book Five

Being kidnapped by a deadly—and dead sexy—brothel slave wasn’t exactly what Kiehle Xochis signed up for. His instructions had been simple: Watch over the human female until his brother and his mate arrived to rescue her. Instead, the slave has decided to liberate herself. She’s proving to be more than Kiehle can handle—and he kind of likes it.

Allysan Miller has gone through hell since being taken from Earth during an invasion. She’s finally found a way to escape the latest, and worst, of the brothels she’s been sold to. Now if Ally plays her cards right, she could gain both freedom and love…if she can learn to trust the dangerous male she’s chosen as her hostage.

Inside Scoop: Ally suffers her share of abuse at the hands of a brothel owner’s guards. But don’t worry. The feisty female warrior gives as good as she gets.

A Romantica® SciFi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Read an excerpt:


By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: DANGEROUSLY FOREVER
Copyright © A.M. GRIFFIN, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.


The nerve of him.

She balled her fist and punched the padded post with all her might. It made a thumping sound but didn’t waiver. Sweat dripped from her scalp and down her face. Her clean clothes were damp and beginning to cling to her body. While the morning sun wasn’t yet high in the sky, without proper shade there was no relief from it.

She made a quick turn and smacked the post with the back of her hand with a grunt. She could hit the thing as hard as she could and didn’t have to worry about it bending or breaking, especially since Kiehle used this very post for training. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead to her eyelid. Using her shoulder, she wiped the sweat away and peered up at the sky. She couldn’t even guess what time it was. She had no clue how time was tracked on this planet. All she knew was that it was early. Everyone was still sleep—even Kiehle.

At the thought of him, she leaned to the side, brought her leg up and thrust her foot out to kick the post. She’d been hitting and kicking since she’d gotten up. Well, since the sun had come up. She hadn’t slept a wink last night.

All because of him.

While Yoshi and Max had slept soundlessly, she’d tossed and turned. Unable to keep her eyes closed, she’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling.

She grunted and punched the post again. Her fist made a dull sound as it hit the padding that covered the wood.

She’d done the right thing, shutting the door on him. She smiled to herself, thinking about how his face must’ve looked.

She spun and landed an elbow, pretending it was his face.

That’s what he gets. Assuming I’ll want to fuck him.

She bobbed and weaved, pretending she was avoiding his outstretched hands.

Grabby hands.

Then, with a left uppercut, she hit the post where she assumed his chin would be.

Knockout.


The only reason she’d had sex with him in the first place was to plot her way to freedom. Well, maybe not the first time. The first time she had wanted too. But the second time was definitely to plan her escape.

She brought her hands up to shield her face and bent her knee, bringing it back. Then with a fierce cry, she kicked out, landing the bottom of her foot where she pretended his kneecap was.

I’ll cripple him if he bothers me again.

When she’d finally gotten up this morning, the house had been quiet. She’d peeled Yoshi’s leg from across her stomach and Max’s arm from around her neck. Although the bed could easily sleep six, they’d both stuck to her side as though still in her small bed from the brothel. She’d retrieved her clothes from the washer and tiptoed to his closed door to listen. She thought she’d heard him stir inside but when she listened more, she didn’t hear anything else.

She’d rested her hand on the door, trying to decide if she should push it open and go to him. All that stood between her and the possibility of riding him like a cowgirl was a door.

One that she would not open.

Instead, she’d dressed and left the house, hoping a few laps around the structure would tire her out. That’s when she’d come across what looked like a workout area. Exactly what she needed to get rid of all the pent-up energy that overwhelmed her.

She spun and hit the post with her elbow.

Asshole.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Startled, she turned to see Kiehle sauntering in her direction. Or prowling in her direction. Whenever he walked toward her, she got the feeling he was stalking his prey.

She took deep breaths. Her chest heaved. “Can I say no?”

“No.”

She flicked her hand in the air. “Then I guess I don’t have a choice.”

He pulled his shirt over his head. His perfectly chiseled chest and arms glistened under the sun. He began to stretch out the muscles in his upper body, over-exaggerating his movements. “Mmm, I need a good stretch.”

Is he moaning?

Her body immediately went soft at the sounds.

He closed his eyes and straightened his arms up to the sky, making his muscles ripple, and moaned again. Her mouth watered as her eyes roamed his chest, his nipples, his stomach and the happy trail of hair that ran from his chest to his waistband.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “My muscles are so tight.”

She tilted her head to the side. His body… I can touch it.

A bead of sweat formed below her nose and rolled over her lips. She licked it away. I would love to lick him.

Wait? What am I doing? Ogling him again. Holy hell.

Flustered at being mesmerized by him, yet again, she turned and focused her attention back on the post and practiced fighting combinations. Not giving in to the temptation to turn and watch him more.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him crouch low to stretch his thighs. The material of his pants stuck to every fine muscular line.

Even outlining his…

She gave her head a light shake. There’s no need to focus on that…that…monstrous thing.

She eyed the post and focused hard. Left, right, cross and duck. Left, right, cross and duck. As he finally walked over to her, she mentally repeated the words, trying to drown out the other voices in her head. The voices that whispered how delicious he looked…that begged her to let him crush her under his weight.

By the time he stood a foot away, the chant sounded more like, Left! Right! Cross! And duck! Left! Right! Cross! And duck!

He moved to her side and assumed a fighting stance, crouching low with his arms out, his smoldering lavender eyes trained on her. His face was framed by thick dark hair that hung a little past his shoulders. Good gracious, he was gorgeous.

She gave him a look of indifference. “We’re sparring?”

“Unless you think I might be too much for you to handle.”

He didn’t know what he was walking into. She’d spent the morning thinking of ways to knock him on his back—and not the way he was probably thinking of now.

She twisted her hair into a knot on the back of her head. He didn’t make a move to do anything with his. Hanging loose, it made him look primal…dangerous…sexy.

Shit.

She narrowed her gaze. He must think that every female around him should swoon like a schoolgirl. He really didn’t need to take off his shirt to advertise his perfect body and that stretching performance had been way over the top. Now his hair was blowing around his face as if he were some kind of alien Fabio.

She looked around. Where the hell is all this wind coming from? “Are you planning to tie back your hair?” she asked, trying her best to sound annoyed—not aroused.

“I had not planned to.” Smiling, he added, “Unless you find it too distracting.”


http://amzn.to/1EACRXW



About the author:

A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

Where you can find me:

Website: http://www.amgriffinbooks.com/

Subscribe to my Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/A.M.-griffin/e/B00APK4V4G/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Email: amgriffinbooks@gmail.com

Like me at: www.facebook.com/amgriffinbooks

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/amgriffinbooks

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Subscribe my newsletter for updates giveaways: http://eepurl.com/TZzXv

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Thursday, January 22, 2015

Review of 'Another Mazzy Monday' by Savannah Young & Sierra Avalon



Another Mazzy Monday
by Savannah Young & Sierra Avalon

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: January 6, 2015

When the wealthy and charming Drew Graham walks into the Tawnee Mountain Resort where I work and offers me a lucrative part-time job it sounds too good to be true. I just have to pretend to be his fiancée until he wins the election for Governor and then we can go our separate ways. It seems like an easy way to make a hundred thousand dollars…until his brother, Austin, returns from Europe and moves in with us. And I’m completely overwhelmed by my attraction to my fake fiancé’s rebellious younger brother.





Read an excerpt:


As I approach the bar I see a gorgeous little blonde serving small cups of wine to several middle-aged women wearing matching conservative navy blue suits and single strands of white pearls around their necks. They all have their hair cut short and look like they’ll be absolutely no fun even with a little wine in them.

Once the women of the blue suit brigade have cups of wine in their hands, they make their way over to my brother. I wait for the bartender to acknowledge me. I’m a little hurt that she doesn’t even glance up at me when she asks me what I want. Then I remember I’m wearing one of my brother’s stuffy suits and that I probably look just like another one of the conservative jackasses at the fundraising event.

This girl looks like someone who prefers a more down-to-Earth kind of guy. If I had on my everyday attire: leather jacket, well-worn jeans and black biker boots, I think I’d get her attention in a heartbeat.

“Beer,” I say, trying to will the blonde to at least glance at me once. But to no avail. She’s all business, serving drinks then taking the next person’s order.

“We’ve got Miller, Bud, and Coors.”

“Miller.”

She nods and fills up one of the small cups with beer. It’s not even the size of a Dixie cup. Maybe half as large. “Got anything bigger than that?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry. It’s complimentary. You can have as many as you like.”

I hold up the ridiculously small cup. It would probably take about ten of these before I even felt a buzz. “Thanks.”

She nods, but she’s only half paying attention to me. When I glance down at her name tag I see her name is Mazzy. Unusual name. I’m completely intrigued. Not just because she’s beautiful with a smoking hot body to match, but there’s something about her that’s different.

Most girls fall all over themselves to get my attention when they figure out who my family is. Being from a wealthy and well-connected family is like an aphrodisiac for most women. I look down to make sure I’m still wearing my name tag and it’s definitely there. This girl just hasn’t even bothered to take a look at it. 

Two guys are now standing behind me so I know I have to let her serve them, but I don’t want to move from this spot. I just want to look at her for a few seconds more. I like watching the way she moves. She seems so carefree and comfortable in her body. As carefree as I like to pretend to be. I know I’m really just a mass of insecurities and over compensative tactics.

“Anything else?” she asks.

Your number, I want to say, but what’s the point. I don’t plan on being in New Jersey any longer than I have to. I promised my dad I’d stay through the election and that’s it. Then my backpack and I are off to Asia.

I take my ridiculous little cup of beer and head off in search of someone I might find even remotely interesting to talk to.

As luck would have it I run into my mother and her league of women voters. They’re all wearing the same conservative blue suits as the blue suit brigade who were ordering wine in front of me at the bar. They each have a tiny American flag displayed prominently on their lapels. As soon as my mother spots me a look of disgust hijacks her face. She can’t seem to control it whenever she sees me and I’m not sure she wants to. She’s even less thrilled with me than my father and she usually has no trouble expressing that displeasure to me. My only saving grace is that I know she won’t rail at me in front of her supporters. She’s much too shrewd for that. She’ll do her best to pretend I’m the perfect son in front of potential donors and wait to condemn me in private.

I’m so glad I decided to stay at the lake house. My mother won’t consider venturing out to Northern New Jersey this late in the season. When it’s less than seventy degrees she has no interest in the lake house.

“Austin,” my mother says as she approaches and places a quick peck on my cheek. “So glad you could make it.”

The other women in her small group are all smiling and eyeballing me, even though they’re all my mother’s age or older.

I down the rest of my beer and stare into the empty cup. “I think I need a refill.”

My mother expresses her displeasure with a harrumph, but then quickly replaces her grimace with a broad smile. Hers isn’t as rehearsed as my father’s or brother’s, but it’s equally phony.

“When you come back, Mrs. Lexington has an opening in her firm that might be of interest to you and she’s already said she’d love to talk to you about it.

“Great,” I lie as I loosen my tie. I’m already feeling trapped and the stupid material around my neck isn’t helping matters any. I can’t even remember the last time I wore a tie.

As I hurry back towards the bar I’m glad to see that Mazzy doesn’t have any other customers. She’s all mine, at least for a few minutes.

I order two beers and down them both double-fisted. When I look up I imagine that Mazzy will have a look of horror on her face, but all I see is puzzlement. As if she’s looking at a brand new species of creature.

By the time I order my fourth miniature beer I have just enough liquid courage to actually start a conversation with her. It’s not that I generally have a hard time conversing with women. On the contrary, I’m generally quite smooth with the opposite sex. But I feel different in this monkey suit and a political fundraiser is definitely not my native habitat. I’m used to picking up women at dive bars or neighborhood pubs. The more relaxed and casual the atmosphere the better.

There’s absolutely nothing relaxed or casual about my present circumstances. But at least the beers have taken the edge off. 

“Mazzy is an unusual name,” I say as she hands me my beer.

She just gives me a polite nod in return.

“Do you live around here?” As soon as the words leave my lips I realize it’s a ridiculous question. I’m sure she doesn’t commute very far for a job as a bartender.

“I’ve lived in Old Town my whole life.” Her clipped tone leads me to believe that she has little interest in talking to me. Not that I blame her. If I ran into me in this setting wearing this suit I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

“Know of any good bars around here.” I hold up the small cup. “These tiny cups aren’t really doing it for me.”

That remark elicits the tiniest of smiles. At least it’s a start.

“Try Haymakers. It’s the only bar in Old Town. Do you like country music?”

I shrug. “I’m more of a rock-and-roll kind of guy.”

“Haymakers is definitely a country bar. I used to work there.”

“Maybe I’ll check it out.” I’ll be staying at my family’s lake house, which isn’t too far from Old Town. I’m sure I’ll go stir crazy after a while and will need some kind of escape. “Thanks for the recommendation.”

“If you tell them that Mazzy sent you they might even give you a free beer.”

“Free is good.” I give her my sexiest smile, but it doesn’t seem to make much of an impact. I realize that maybe she’s just being nice so I’ll give her a good tip. I reach into my pocket, pull out a five dollar bill and add it to the mostly singles lining the tip jar.

“Thanks,” she says and when she finally looks me in the eye I feel a little flash of something. I’m not quite sure what it is, but my entire body reacts to it. I put my beer on the end of the bar for a moment and put my hands in my pockets in an effort to lower the flag that’s starting to rise in my pants.

“Haymakers,” I repeat. “I’m definitely going to check it out.”

“Only bar in town. You can’t miss it.”

I don’t want to stop talking to this girl. She’s like the cool girl that guys love to be friends with, but who they also want to fuck. It’s a rare 
combination. Most girls who are as attractive as she is are a little high on the maintenance scale. And girls who are as cool as she seems, the ones you’d love to hang out with and drink on a Friday night, are usually not as attractive as Mazzy. She’s like the best of both worlds.

I take one more look at her and when she gives me the slightest of smiles it tugs at my heartstrings. I’m completely entranced again.

Unfortunately a group of Young Republicans turn up behind me and I know she needs to serve them so I’ve got to move on. 

**My thoughts**

I am a long-time fan of both Savannah Young and Sierra Avalon, having read all of their books. This is their first collaboration, so I was excited to jump on board with the blog tour. (Okay, they are one in the same, as the author has four different pen names. Each pen name has a distinct personality, and in this book, she tried to bring two of them together.)

This book was interesting for me, because it wasn't my favorite out of the collection by these two authors. It didn't feel quite as real as the other books I have read, such as the Old Towne series featuring the Wilde Brothers. I had a bit more difficulty buying Mazzy's relationship with Austin. Yet, at the same time, I couldn't put the book down until I was finished with it. I pretty much knew where it was going to go and what was going to happen, but had to consume it all in one sitting. 

What I love about these stories is that they are designed to give you a hot romantic read that you can burn through in one evening/bottle of wine. You wish you could be Mazzy and have fantasies of finding a man as awesome as Austin. It does have a slight twist from the usual "arranged marriage" type books that are so popular, that makes it stand out a bit in the genre. And, of course I now need to know what is going to happen to Mazzy's twin sister and will continue to read the series, as well as other offerings by this author, no matter the pen name. These stories are addictive, and I can see these characters continuing to develop in the future.

http://amzn.to/1uvoVyd


About the author:

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Karen Mueller Bryson writes under four pen names. This is her first novel co-written by two of them.

Savannah Young’s stories take place in fictional Old Town, which is very much like the rural Northwest New Jersey town in which she grew up. She is the author of the four-book Wilde brother’s Old Town Country Romance series.

Sierra Avalon’s stories have a little sass and lots of spice. She is the author of Always Rayne, which is the first book in the Always, Sometimes, Never series.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenMuellerBrysonAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/karenmbryson

Blog: http://karenmuellerbryson.tumblr.com


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Wednesday, January 21, 2015

'One Last Hold' by Angela Smith




Romantic Suspense
Date Published: November 5, 2014

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Wesley Webb is at the pinnacle of his auto racing career when his main rival is murdered hours after their confrontation. That, along with evidence found at the scene, shades him as prime suspect. Now he’s under intense press scrutiny, particularly from Caitlyn Daniels, an ex-girlfriend who knows all about his secret past.

Caitlyn thought to never see Wesley again. Now, his life could be in her hands. Ten years ago, a tragedy tore apart everything she held dear, including their relationship. When she’s assigned to do an exclusive story with the reluctant race car driver she once loved, she believes this could be her purging. But chemistry tears apart her resolve to stay strong. Can they work out their differences and fall in love again, or will tragedy keep them apart?


Read an Excerpt
She took a deep breath. Usually her interviews became more personal. She wasn’t sure how personal to get with him. She knew a lot about him—at least she used to—but she was scared of asking him the wrong thing. She didn’t want to set him off. 
“What’s your favorite color?” Caitlyn held a pen in her hand, poised to write, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Her focus, though, was Wesley’s deep green eyes. Eyes able to pierce her and reach a part of her no one had ever been able to touch before. Something about the way he looked at her, like he saw only her, deep down, clear to her soul. 
A hint of danger lurked in his eyes, a predator-like stance that made her sense he was ready to devour her, sexually and otherwise. A vulnerability that made Caitlyn yearn to take him in her arms, to be as close to him as possible. His gaze held no arrogance, no indifference, and no deceit. 
Her throat felt parched. His eyes devoured every morsel of her power and well-being. 
She couldn’t think of a decent thing to say. Thank God it was his turn to talk.
“My favorite color,” he said as he leaned across the table, closer to Caitlyn, “is the capricious color of your eyes.” 
His lips were only inches from hers so that his breath licked against her skin. His eyes possessed her.
She clutched her pen in midair, frozen in space for a mere second. He touched her hand. 
The pen fell. 
“Blueberry,” he said as he trailed a light kiss across her knuckle, his eyes still magnetizing hers. Her heart stopped in her throat. “Dark and wounded. Cornflower blue, tantalizing with banter and witticism.” He kissed the tip of her pinkie and went on to taste each finger, slowly taking his time with each one. “Sea blue, bright and sparkling like the waves catching a sunset, when you’re happy.” 
Caitlyn, entranced with his words, was amazed he even noticed her eyes and more amazed he practically recited poetry. Where had he come up with this? 
“Storm clouds,” he continued as he stroked the inside of her palm. “Brewing with a passion and desire you’re too afraid to feel. Sometimes periwinkle, sometimes almost lavender and sometimes a sultry gray. Right now though, they are definitely–” 
She pulled her hand away and scooted back in her chair. Thoroughly aroused, she squeezed her thighs tighter in an attempt to bury the spark. 
“You’re full of it,” she said. “My eyes don’t change colors that much and even if they did, you wouldn’t notice.” 
“What makes you say that?” He leaned back in his chair, taking the two back legs to its haunches, something they both used to get in trouble for when they were kids. 
She shook her head and didn’t answer. The touch of his warm mouth on her fingers still burned in her core. 
“I always notice your eyes.”
Buy Links


About the Author

During her senior year in high school, Angela Smith was dubbed most likely to write a novel, and that has been her dream ever since her mother read stories of 'Brer Rabbit' to her and her sister so often that they were able to recite it back to each other before they learned to read. She hasn't stopped reading or writing since. A certified paralegal, work gives her perfect fodder for her romantic suspense stories. When not caring for her small farm or spending time with her husband of two decades, she enjoys 4-wheeling, crafting, reading, and dreaming of the places she'll visit one day.


Author Links

Thursday, April 3, 2014

'Priceless' by Shannon Mayer




Priceless - PROMO Blitz
Shannon Mayer
Urban Fantasy Romance
Date Published: November 2012

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"My name is Rylee, and I am a Tracker."

When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I'm the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot.

I'm on the FBI's wanted list. I have a werewolf for a pet, a Witch of a best friend, and I have no need for anyone else in my life.

But when a salvage starts to spin out of control, help comes from a most unexpected direction. One that is dangerously dark, brooding, and doesn't know a thing about the supernatural.

One whose kisses set me on fire.



Shannon Mayer
 photo ShannonMayer2028229_zpsa98e7962.jpgShannon Mayer lives in the southwestern tip of Canada with her husband, dog, cats, horse, and cows. When not writing she spends her time staring at immense amounts of rain, herding old people (similar to herding cats) and attempting to stay out of trouble. Especially that last is difficult for her.
She is the author of the The Rylee Adamson Novels, The Nevermore Trilogy, A Celtic Legacy series and several contemporary romances.  Please visit her website at http://www.shannonmayer.com  for more information on her novels.

Author Links
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Blog

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Buy Link for PRICELESS
Amazon

Links to other books in Series


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Saturday, March 15, 2014

'Drowning Mermaids' by Nadia Scrieva

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Drowning Mermaids ~ Blitz
By Nadia Scrieva
Paranormal Romance - Epic Fantasy
Date Published: January 2012

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She is an elegant princess displaced from her home. He is a rough sea captain with a heart of gold...

To escape the war in her underwater kingdom, the noble daughter of a murdered king must flee to Alaska. Doing all she can to keep her younger sisters safe, Aazuria tries to assimilate and work among the Americans, with her feisty red-haired bodyguard at her side. This refuge holds pleasant surprises, for the princess meets a somber gentleman in a dark corner who promises to show her his world.

Trevain Murphy is a successful crab fisherman who has spent his life building an empire above the sea, but knows nothing of the greater empire beneath the surface. When a graceful dancer captures his attention, he becomes fascinated with her old-fashioned speech and unique mannerisms. Learning that her father has recently died, he cannot resist extending his kindness in offering to guide and protect her.

As it becomes clear that the dark-haired woman is much more than she seems, Trevain is unprepared to uncover the staggering secrets behind her innocent facade. Neither the captain nor the princess can imagine that their lives will become forcibly entwined as a common enemy threatens both of their worlds...



EXCERPT
“Why are we here, Brynne?” Trevain asked, leaning against the wall angrily. 
“I wanted a snack,” she said, rummaging through the cupboards. 
“I didn’t.” 
“Well, you need to eat dinner,” she said, with her mouth full. “We’ve been fishing all day.” 
“I’m not hungry. Look, Brynne, is there a reason you haven’t left my side this whole trip? Do you think that I’m emotionally vulnerable because Aazuria left me and I’m going to fall into your arms or something?” 
“Here, just relax and let me cook something good for you.” 
“I appreciate your concern for my health, but I already told you that I’m not hungry…” 
“Hey! That’s funny. Why is there sound coming from this bag of rice?” 
Brynne placed her ear against the bag. “Weird. It sounds like a clock.” 
Trevain frowned and moved over to the bag of rice to listen. 
Brynne shrugged and continued gathering cooking utensils. “Reminds me of that story about the captain and the crocodile—he could always tell the crocodile was near because it had swallowed a clock, and he could hear the ticking…” 
“Shut up, Brynne.” Trevain pulled a knife out of the drawer she had opened and slit the bag open, causing rice to spill out all over the floor. 
“Hey, Trevain! You’re making a mess!” Brynne scolded. “Just because you don’t have to clean anything up around here since you’re the high and mighty capt…” 
“Where the hell did you get this?” Trevain yelled, staring at the strange homemade bomb which was nestled in the rice. 
Brynne had not turned around, and was continuing to gather ingredients. “Oh, some sweet blond lady on the docks gave it to me…” 
“Dammit!” he cursed. “There’s no time.” 
“No time?” Brynne asked in confusion. Trevain grabbed her hand and was pulling her into the next room. “What are you doing, Murphy?” 
“Get in the bathtub, Brynne!” 
“What? Why? I’m not into kinky…” 
“Down, now!” Trevain grabbed Brynne and dived with her into the bathtub, covering her body with his and waiting for the sound. 
The next second, all that they heard was—nothing. The sound of the explosion was so deafening that there was a moment of intense pain in their ears before they lost the ability to hear. They felt, however. They felt the intense pressure of the bomb exploding. They felt the unbearable heat of the explosion burning their skin and singeing their hair. They felt the bathtub being ripped from the ship, and pieces of debris colliding with their bodies. Trevain felt large objects colliding with his head and back painfully, and he felt his skin being punctured in several places. Finally, he was aware that they were surrounded by water. 
It was several seconds before the heat subsided to the cooling water, and a moment later he was finally able to open his eyes. He could barely make out the scared expression on Brynne’s face in the darkness. There was debris everywhere; pieces of the broken ship. His broken ship. Trevain was completely disoriented. It was difficult to figure out where they needed to swim. He could tell that sections of the boat floating near the surface were burning. He looked around for the other members of his crew, trying to get his bearings. 
The flames were growing stronger. The ship’s diesel was leaking from the ruptured gas tank. They could not swim to the surface, or they would be burned. Brynne’s face was lit by the flickering firelight as she panicked and tried to communicate with him, but they could not understand each other. As he frantically made hand signals indicating for Brynne to calm down and stay close to him, he was met with only mystification on her face. He appreciated the need for sign language more than ever at that moment. Brynne was freaking out, and she began swimming off in one direction. He was sure that it was not where they needed to go. He tried to reach for her, but he was feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain. He looked around, trying to figure out where to go and what to do. He could not help panicking as well. 
Trevain tried to swim away from the flames, but he could not get very far. The burning diesel had leaked out over the surface of water for what must already be a square mile, and he could not swim that far without taking a breath. Without several breaths. He needed air badly, and finally realized that he was going to drown. He could not breathe underwater; he did not have the ability. He simply did not know how. What Aazuria and his mother were talking about—he wished it was all true, but it was not. Not for him. 
He knew that he was about to die. His lungs painfully begged him to take a breath, but he knew that the moment he did, he would drown. Although he had almost wanted something exactly like this to happen to him when he had set sail earlier, he now realized that he had been fooling himself. As demented as he had been feeling, as self-destructive as his intentions, it had all been just a farce. He did not really want to die. 
He tried as hard as he could to hold onto his last few moments of life. 
A glimmer of white caught his eye, and he saw that an exquisite creature was suddenly before him. Long white hair fanned out around her face, and the purest eyes of blue sapphire stared at him. The lovely phantasm was smiling as she reached out to take his hands; he knew it must be an angel.  
It was his angel. He knew her, although she looked nothing like before. She was his Aazuria, his mythical heroine. In the dancing glow of the oil blaze, she was simply too dazzling to be real and he knew that he must be on death’s very threshold. He had heard that people often hallucinated in moments such as these, seeing what they most yearned to see. As she hovered in suspension before him, her skin and hair were almost luminous in the dark water; almost phosphorescent. Perhaps she never had been real. It did not matter—she was firmly grasping his hands, and it sent a feeling of comfort and tranquility through him. He knew that she loved him. 
He could see forgiveness and acceptance in her expression. None of the turmoil between them mattered any longer in this pacific moment. In her benevolent gaze, he could finally forgive himself. He smiled at her. 
Although his vision was fading and the world was disappearing, he could only smile. He tightly gripped her hands to thank her for coming back for him. He could not bear the thought of letting go; he did not want to be robbed of her touch. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as possible—he tried to keep gazing into the salvation of those unfamiliar ultramarine orbs. So this was what she really looked like, in her element. He wished he could have known her true form. It was mystical. 
Trevain could imagine no better way to die. No better sight to see in the final moments during which he was capable of vision. He was wholly happy and blissfully complete. A peaceful expression descended on his face, and the captain’s tired eyes closed for what he knew to be the last time.

Nadia Scrieva
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Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.


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