Clandestine Trysts ~ C.L. Foster

Clandestine Trysts Tour BannerBook Info-

Clandestine TrystsTitle- Clandestine Trysts

By- C.L. Foster

Genre- Erotic Short Story Collection

Expected Publication Date- November 18th, 2014

 

Blurb-

Explore hidden fantasies with this collection of erotic tales to titillate, tantalize, and tempt.

 

A single night with a sexy stranger. A naughty librarian deep in the darkened stacks. Locking eyes with the bass player in the bright lights of the stage… and more.

 

Indulge and satisfy those deep cravings. Discover Clandestine Trysts.

 

Links-

Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23291126-clandestine-trysts

 

C.L. FosterAbout the Author-

CL is eclectic, geeky, positive, nature-loving and completely non-“normal” (just the way she likes to be). She has been a fan of literature since she was a small child and finally decided to take her dreams (both waking and sleeping!) and do something positive with them.

 

CL has lived all over the world and has a Bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice, minoring in Psychology and Forensics. Which means you don’t want to cross her because she knows how and where to hide a body so it’s never found! She proudly admits to hearing voices in her head, but at times, her characters’ impromptu visits can be rude and annoying. Thankfully, she has adequate patience for their shenanigans and can out ninja them any day of the week.

 

CL’s voice is boisterous, sassy, and not finished yet! Stay tuned!

 

Links-

Website- http://www.authorclfoster.com/

Pinterest- http://www.pinterest.com/inkedphoenix1/

YouTube- http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUQZObEtwWqsIDkCz3EgUWw

Instagram- http://instagram.com/clfoster1

Google + – https://plus.google.com/u/0/+CLFoster/posts

Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1920252.C_L_Foster

Twitter- https://twitter.com/CLFoster1

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCLFoster

Amazon Author Page- http://www.amazon.com/C.L.-Foster/e/B00A5GV1OS/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_3

Wendy Sparrow ~ This Weakness For You ~ Tour & #Review

This Weakness for You

Taming the Pack
Paranormal
Date Published: November 17, 2014

Blurb:

She’s exactly what he wants to sink his teeth into…Jordan is his pack’s Alpha dog. The Big Bad Wolf. And after his last breakup, he’s opting to be the lone wolf, too. But then his rival’s little sister—a human, of all creatures—comes to his door. And suddenly, what should be a tasty little snack turns out to be something more than Jordan could ever imagine…Christa is simply looking for a place to stay. Yet the dark shifter smells irresistibly like forever. But getting involved with the wolf who tried to kill her brother—twice—is lunacy. Besides, in the unforgiving, shadowed world of shifters, there is no room for weakness. And falling for her family’s enemy won’t just be her downfall…it will be his, too.

 

Excerpt:

If he was lucky, she’d slept all night, and he could get out of here without her waking up.

He turned his back on her to slide on the jeans beside the bed and felt the tingles of awareness from being watched. When he twisted to look, Christa’s green eyes were on him—very much awake.

Dane was going to castrate him.

Christa smiled unrepentantly.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“Well, you’re going too fast and my view isn’t optimal, but yes, thank you for asking.”

He winced. Dane would be justified in castrating him.

Christa sat up and stretched like a cat—like her damn cat, which he’d agreed to keep for her. It was a small price to pay to get her out of here, but it’d also pull her into his life. It was going to be hard enough getting her out of his every waking thought, without having that cat between them.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it anyway,” she said, smirking. “You’ve been here naked since around midnight when I let Lucifer out for a couple minutes—you sleep fairly deeply.”

“And apparently without covering up.”

“Oh, you had the blanket on, but I looked underneath it.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it when nothing came to mind. There was no one like Christa.

She was still openly meeting his eyes. He had members of his pack who’d never met his eyes. It was…bizarre.

“Your brother is going to have me neutered—you know that, right?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to hand him measurements and a map to accomplish it if that’s what you’re worried about. I didn’t look for that long.”

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/This-Weakness-You-Taming-Pack-ebook/dp/B00OYE7NQW/ref=la_B00AYIR3HQ_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414772083&sr=1-13

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/this-weakness-for-you-wendy-sparrow/1120646801?ean=9781633751361&itm=1&usri=9781633751361&cm_mmc=AFFILIATES-_-Linkshare-_-GwEz7vxblVU-_-10:1&r=1,%201

ibooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/this-weakness-for-you/id934100444?mt=11

Beverly’s Review:

There was no room in his life for a human, especially not as his mate. It was bad enough that he was the only wolf from his family. Add to that he was an alpha and sometimes the jealousy was too much to bear. Jordan took into account how he and his siblings were treated when dealing with his pack. He wanted to never leave anyone out. With his mixed human lycan heritage, having a lycan as a child was a toss of the dice.

This weakness for you was filled with suspense and angst and love. The twists and turns were enjoyable. The interaction between Jordan, his family and ultimately Christa, keep me reading.

I enjoyed This Weakness for You and definitely recommend it to anyone who loves to read about werewolves and pack life.

hearts 4

Wendy Sparrow

Wendy Sparrow has been telling tales since she was a child with varying amounts of success. Her parents clearly anticipated her forays into the paranormal because she heard “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” so many times she could have written the screenplay at age five. She lives with a wonderful husband, two amazing kids, and a husky/lab (that has been told he looks much like a wolf) in Washington State. Wendy is active in Autism and OCD support networks and often blogs about both on her website. She can usually be found on Twitter where she’ll talk to anyone who talks to her and occasionally just to herself.
Website: http://wendysparrow.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WendySparrowAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/WendySparrow
Blog: http://wendysparrow.com/blog/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3346109.Wendy_Sparrow
Website: http://bkspierre.wordpress.com/

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Deadline ~ Scarlet Hawthorne

 

He wants her body and heart, but a killer wants her soul.

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After her erotic romance novels become international bestsellers, writer Gillian Tate cannot enjoy her long-sought success once her husband files for divorce and she becomes the target of threats from a religious fringe hate group; but when she tries to find peace in the solitude of a remote lakeside cabin to complete the third novel in the trilogy, not only does she meet the man who can fulfill her secret desires, she also finds she hasn’t escaped danger by leaving the city. 


When the Adirondack town’s police chief Sam Taylor learns of the threats and checks in on the notorious author, he is surprised to find she is nothing like he would have expected from her erotic novels but everything he has imagined in his own fantasies. 


Can he and the woman of his dreams escape her waking nightmare? 
 
*Adult Content: This erotic romantic suspense includes scenes of bondage between consenting adults.*

Scarlet Hawthorne began writing short stories at the age of eight, poems at ten, and wrote her first novella – a romantic tragedy – at twelve. Today she enjoys creating characters who discover integrity and their authentic selves through their sexuality. She has been a speaker at national conferences discussing how power exchange can enhance relationships and refuting the negative stereotypes of BDSM promulgation in the media.
 
An award-winning and bestselling author in a variety of genres under other pen names, Scarlet was a featured author at the 2014 BDSM Writers Conference in New York City and contributed an excerpt from her upcoming romantic suspense Retrograde to the first BDSM Writers Con Anthology. Always eager to challenge herself as a writer, Scarlet utilized a “panoramic point of view” narrative style, rarely found in fiction today, in her latest novel Deadline.
 
Scarlet lives with her two dogs and their Master in a lakeside community in the New Orleans area. Her next release is the contemporary male/male romance Between the Notes, expected in spring, 2015.

Man Law ~ Adrienne Giordano

Man Law CoverTitle: Man Law
Series: Private Protectors, #2
Authors: Adrienne Giordano
Release Date: July 4, 2011
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Sale Price &Dates: $0.99 from November 20, 2014 – November 26, 2014

Buy Links: 

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Carina Press

Book Trailer: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJf-fhWG-Rk&feature=youtu.be

Book Summary:

Security Consultant Vic Andrews lives by his Man Laws:

Never mess with your best friend’s sister
Never get caught
Never get attached

But he can’t deny his irresistible attraction to Gina Delgado, a young widow with three kids and plenty of strings attached. Even so, having a physical relationship doesn’t mean they’re “in a relationship.”
Gina lost her husband to tragedy; she is not getting emotionally involved with another man in a dangerous profession. Sleeping with Vic is just stress relief.

Until one of Vic’s assignments goes wrong and the target selects Gina and her kids for revenge. There’s nothing Vic won’t do to protect Gina and the children–the family he realizes, too late, he wants. He’ll accomplish his mission but will he have lost his only chance at true love?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Man Law: Never mess with your best friend’s sister.

“Ah, shit.” Vic Andrews, butthead supreme, listened to the churn of the ocean’s waves. Or was it his life skittering off its axis?

Gina laughed that belly laugh of hers and he couldn’t help smiling. He extracted himself from her lush little body and rolled off. The St. Barth sand stuck to his back. Yep, they’d worked up a sweat. Salty sea air invaded his nostrils and he inhaled, letting the moisture flood his system.

Jesus Hotel Christ.

What had he been thinking? He’d been heading back to his room after closing down the resort’s bar and there she was, the girl—er, woman—of his dreams, crying on the beach. No condition for her to be in after witnessing her brother’s marriage to the love of his life.

Vic didn’t mention the fact it was 3:00 a.m. and she was alone on a secluded beach where any drunken asshole, like him, could have at her. Although technically he wasn’t drunk. Buzzed maybe. Big difference. Besides, they’d been at a wedding. Buzzed was allowed.

Gina moved and he finally turned toward her. “I’m—”

“No, absolutely not,” she said. She swiped at her curly mane of dark hair. Her face gave away nothing, but that meant squat. Gina knew how to hide bad moods.

The whoosh of the ocean lapping against the shore distracted him and he stared into the blackness.

“What did I say?” he asked.

“You were going to apologize. I don’t want to hear it.”

Apologize? Him? “I’m not sorry.” He touched her arm. “Are you?”

Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please.

That would be all he needed. He’d just freakin’ obliterated the sister rule Mike had invoked nearly a million—maybe two million—times. The sister rule was Man Law, and Man Laws were about the only rules Vic followed.

He only wanted to check on her, and before he knew it, voila, the clothes were off, the condom was on and they were humping like bunnies right there on the beach. At least no one saw them. All the well-meaning people were asleep.

Gina brushed sand from her legs and stood to straighten the sliplike dress he’d shoved up over her hips. The silky fabric glided over her curves, and the activity in Vic’s lower region made him groan. A thirty-five year-old mother of three, and she was killing him. He should be ashamed.

Screw that.

She was right there. Right there. And, because he’d probably never get the opportunity again, he should grab her and—

“I’m not sorry,” Gina said. “Not about the sex. I’m sorry about other things, but this, I loved.”

Vic retrieved his pants and stood. Gina and her honesty. Good or bad, she just put it out there and didn’t worry about the repercussions. He guessed it came from losing her husband at the age of thirty-one. She had nothing to lose.

“I need to go,” she said, watching him with her big brown eyes as the moonlight drenched her face. He put his shirt on. Did she have to look at him that way? Particularly when he wanted a replay.

“Aren’t the kids bunking with your folks?”

“They are, but you know how Matthew is. He might search for me.”

Fifteen-year-old Matt, her eldest son, took his job as man of the family seriously.

“Right. Okay.” Vic motioned toward the resort. “I’ll walk you.”

Gina held up a hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Nuh-uh. No way. “I am going to walk you. It’s late and you shouldn’t go by yourself.”

Hell, she shouldn’t have been out here alone in the first place, but he knew she’d tear him a few new ones if he said it.

She stood there, peering up at him and—God—she was fantastic. She had a classic oval face with high cheekbones and a nose he knew she hated. For over two years now he’d imagined running his finger over the little bump in it, but never dared. Every inch of her seemed perfectly imperfect.

Blown sister rule.

Gina shoved her fingers through her curls. “We screwed up. I can’t believe it. We’ve been so good.”

“We didn’t screw up. We had a simultaneous brain fart. Again.”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Anyway, walk me to the edge of the beach. You can see my room from there and can watch me go up.”

“Gina, what’s the big deal? Nobody will know we just—” he waved his hand, “—you know.”

“It’ll be better if you don’t walk me. With his mental radar, Michael is probably waiting by the door. On his damned wedding night. I swear he’s a freak. He should stay out of it.”

Oh, boy. She was getting fired up. Maintenance mode. His friend needed protection. They were both ex-special ops, but they didn’t stand a chance against all five foot three of Gina.

“Mike loves you. He’s trying to protect you.”

“From you? You’re his best friend.”

Vic ran his hands over her shoulders. “Yeah, but I’m not right for you.”

“The circumstances aren’t right. That’s true, but he doesn’t have to keep reminding me.”

“He does it to me too.”

They strolled to the edge of the beach, and he squeezed her hand. Don’t go. Just stay for a while. All he wanted was more time with her. Not a lot to ask.

On tiptoes, she brushed a kiss over his lips. A little hum escaped his throat. What the hell was that?

“I had a great time,” she said. “You were just what I needed.”

“I think a ‘but’ is coming.”

“We can’t do this again.”

Yep. Not good. “I know.”

She pulled her hand from his and hauled ass toward her room. Away from him.

He waited while she went up the stairs and she stopped in front of the window of the room next to hers. A minute later the door opened and Matt came out. He turned and, apparently using his Spidey sense, looked straight at Vic.

And we’re busted.

Copyright © 2011 by Adrienne Giordano

Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.

Adrienne Giordano HeadshotAbout the Author

USA Today bestselling author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery. She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction.

Connect with Adrienne: Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Street Team

Blog Tour Stops

November 20, 2014
Book Bliss: http://lbookbliss.com
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Reading By The Book: http://www.readingbythebook.com/?zx=85dd92d8b0eb840f
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the Love of Romance: http://romancingrakes4theluvofromance.blogspot.com

November 21, 2014
Becky on Books…and Quilts: http://www.beckymmoe.com
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November 22, 2014
CK Crouch: http://ckcrouch.wordpress.com
Musings from an Addicted
Reader: http://musingsfromanaddictedreader.wordpress.com/
Reading on the Rocks: http://www.readingontherocks.blogspot.com
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Loves You: http://sslyblog.wordpress.com

November 23, 2014
Brook Blogs: http://brookeblogs.com
Storeybook Reviews: http://storeybookreviews.com
Amy Manemann: http://www.amymanemann.blogspot.com

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Ariesgrl Book Reviews: http://ariesgrlreview.com
Em & M Books: http://www.emandmbooks.com
Doing Some Reading: http://doingsomereading.wordpress.com/

November 25, 2014
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The Book Review: http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com

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Foxylutely Book Reviews: http://foxylutely.blogspot.com/
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What I’m Reading: http://sillymelody.blogspot.com/
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Her Christmas Cowboy ~ Adele Downs

Her Christmas Cowboy - Banner

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – HER CHRISTMAS COWBOY
AUTHOR – Adele Downs
GENRE – Contemporary Western Romance
PUBLICATION DATE – November 7, 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 11,500 word Lunchbox Romance
PUBLISHER – Boroughs Publishing Group

 

Her Christmas Cowboy - Book Cover

 

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Tragedy brought them together, but joy met them on the other side.

Daisy Phillips has a choice to make: return to Pennsylvania and the Christmases she once knew, or stay in Texas and find a new way to celebrate the holiday–with the handsome cowboy who brought joy back to her life.

The heartwarming sequel to the Amazon-bestselling Lunchbox Romance, Kissing Her Cowboy!

 

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLESMASHWORDSALL ROMANCE EBOOKS

EXCERPT

Clearly, the man had no concept of his effect on her.

When Daisy pulled up to Trey’s house and saw him standing at the base of the steps to greet her in nothing but low slung denims and work boots, she’d found it hard to breathe. Suddenly, Jack Frost and his Pennsylvania winter lost their appeal. Who needed snow when a smokin’ hot cowboy waited for her? Welcomed her? Wanted her?

If she hadn’t come to Houston, she wouldn’t have met the handsome ranch hand who filled her dreams night after night. Trey had become her single compelling reason to work through her personal pain. That and the fact that she’d never give up police work. She’d find a way to succeed, one way or another. It was hard for a cop to be flexible, since theirs was a structured world, but she was trying her best to adapt to her new environment.

Daisy took a bite of her chicken salad while Trey munched his roast beef. They ate in companionable silence while Big Blue grazed beyond. Trey took a swallow of bottled ice tea and then spoke. “Would you like to spend Christmas Eve together, here? Maybe help me trim the tree?”

Daisy’s spirit lifted again with the invitation, though she tried to stay cool. She and her sister Rose had already been invited to Christmas dinner with Trey’s family, and she’d promised to bring homemade pumpkin pie and oven fresh bread. Rose was making apple pie and a side dish.

Daisy hadn’t expected to spend Christmas Eve with Trey too, but she was glad he asked. “Sure. I’d like that.” The heaviness around her heart broke free and her mood lifted. She imagined the two of them in an embrace, making love beneath the twinkling lights of Trey’s Christmas tree, and realized she was…happy.

It had been so long since she’d known the feeling it took seconds to realize what had come over her. She smiled and savored the moment. Trey made her happy. Spending Christmas with him was the best gift the season could bring.

There would be no snowfall in Texas. Or winter’s chill. No downhill sledding, hot cocoa, or ice covered boots. There might not be snippets of holly gracing the table, but there would undoubtedly be mistletoe. With that final thought, Daisy leaned over and gave Trey a deep, gotta’ get-back-to-work kiss.

He smiled at her, and just like that… Daisy found her Christmas spirit.

 

Her Christmas Cowboy - Author Photo

AUTHOR BIO

Adele Downs writes best-selling contemporary romance inside the office of her rural Pennsylvania home. She is a former journalist, published in newspapers and magazines inside the USA, UK, and Caribbean.

Adele is an active member of Romance Writers of America and her local RWA chapter where she serves as a past-president. She has written several articles for RWR magazine (Romance Writers Report) and has presented workshops for writers.

When Adele isn’t working on her current project, she can be found riding in her convertible or reading a book on the nearest beach.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGEWEBSITE / BLOGFACEBOOKTWITTER
PINTERESTSTREET TEAM

 

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Five (5) Amazon Kindle gift copies of KISSING HER COWBOY.
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The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall ~ Lauren Smith

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book info
covergifTitle: The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall

Series: Dark Seductions # 1

Author: Lauren Smith

Audience: Adult

Genre: Paranormal Romance/Modern Gothic Romance

Formats: E-book and Paperback

Publisher: Entangled Publishing

Cover by: Heather Howland

Editor: Tracy Montoya

Pages: 253 pages

ISBN: 978-1-63375-104-0

ASIN: B00NE06UI4

Date Published: 29 September 2014

 

blurb

 

To defeat a dark evil, they must face his family’s past…

Bastian Carlisle, the Earl of Weymouth, doesn’t believe in ghosts. Even though tragedy and mysterious hauntings have driven his family away from his ancestral home, Stormclyffe Hall, he is determined to restore the castle to its former glory. His plans are disrupted when a stubborn American shows up on his doorstep hoping to pry into his family’s tragic history.

Jane Seyton, an American graduate student, is convinced there’s more to the tragedy of Stormclyffe Hall than history claims. Ever the scholar, she is determined to discover the truth, even if it means putting up with the arrogant, yet sexy, Bastian.

Although Bastian wants nothing to do with the pushy American, it soon becomes clear that something evil is in the house—and that something is targeting both Jane and Bastian. The two must join forces to purge the ghosts of Stormclyffe Hall once and for all—even as they try to fight a physical attraction between them that grows more and more impossible to deny.

 

book links
clip_image003clip_image005clip_image006clip_image008clip_image010
StormcliffHallMeme3
excerpt

Weymouth, England, 1811

The crash of thunder woke Richard, Earl of Weymouth. The fire in the hearth was low, the embers no longer crackling, and a cold draft pressed in around him as a storm raged outside. Pulling a loose sheet around his hips, he reached across the bed for his wife, who was still weak from bearing him a healthy son a month ago. His hands stopped short as he encountered nothing but the twisted sheets where her body had lain.

An icy tendril of fear churned in his stomach. She never left their bed when it rained. Storms frightened her. Isabelle usually curled into his side, burying her face against his throat for comfort.

Heavy rain whipped against the windows, the fierce staccato a warning to stay inside. Wind whistled through the room, teasing tapestries out, then back against the walls as though bodies moved behind them. A rumble of thunder seemed to shake the stones of his ancestral home, Stormclyffe Hall.

“Isabelle?” he called out. “Love?”

Only the crash of thunder answered.

Lightning streaked past the window and illuminated his son’s cradle.

A sharp cry split the air.

Richard leaped out of bed, the icy floor stinging his bare feet as he rushed to the cradle. Murmuring soft, sweet words, he lifted his son, Edward, tucking him in the crook of one arm, relieved the babe was safe. He never thought he would be the paternal sort, but Isabelle and their babe brought out the tenderness in him.

The town viewed his marriage as a disgrace. Earls didn’t marry the daughters of innkeepers. But Richard hadn’t cared. He loved her and would do anything to have her in his life.

A frown tugged down the corners of his lips. “Where is your mother, Edward?”

Thunder once again rocked the hall. October storms thrashed the castle and nearby cliffs with a wicked vengeance. Trees were split in half by lightning; the edges of the cliff decayed inward, inching ever closer to the castle. Although the storm this night was no different, something felt wrong. A bite to the air, a sense of dread digging into his spine.

As the baby’s long eyelashes drowsily settled back down on his plump cheeks, Richard assured himself that the baby’s linens were dry and Edward was content. He brushed his lips over his son’s forehead and set him back in the cradle.

When he stepped back, glancing out the window that overlooked the sea, his blood froze. A feminine silhouette clambered through the rock outcroppings by the cliff’s edge.

Even from a distance, he knew with a horrifying certainty it was Isabelle.

It was madness to be outside, alone by the cliffs. She knew the dangers, knew the soft dirt around the cliffs crumbled into the sea. Only the year before, a boy from the village had fallen to his death when the ground by the edge gave way.

“Isabelle!” he gasped, the single intake of air burning his chest as though fire had erupted within.

Before he had time to move, the sky blackened, his vision robbed of light.

When lightning again bathed the rocks, Isabelle was gone.

His stomach clenched with a fear so profound, it flayed open his chest with poison-tipped claws.

Shouting for his cloak and boots, he raced from the room. The nurse emerged from down the hall, her white cap askew, and gray hair frizzing out from under the edges.

“Take charge of the baby!” he yelled as he ran past her.

She nodded and hurried to his room.

His valet, followed by several footmen, raced to his aid, carrying clothes. He snatched them and dressed as he ran, his men right behind him dashing through the deluge.

When they reached the cliffs, there was no sign of Isabelle.

“My lord!” a footman by the edge shouted.

Afraid to look, yet unable to tear his eyes away, Richard stared down to where the man’s finger pointed. The black shadow of Isabelle’s cloak caught on a razor-thin piece of rock, fluttering madly like a bat’s wing. Lightning slashed above them, its terrible light revealing a dark smear beneath the cloak’s erratic movements.

Blood. Isabelle’s blood. Had she jumped to her death?

“No!” A crash of thunder swallowed his roar of despair.

He dove for the edge, wanting to follow her into the frothing gray seas. A cloak smeared with blood. All that remained of his wife.

He’d fought too hard to win her love, her trust. They’d suffered through too much together, to be divided now. He couldn’t raise Edward alone.

“No…please, no.” The pleading came from the bottom of his soul, torn from his heart.

She was gone.

Strong arms hauled Richard back from the ledge, pinning him to the earth.

“It is too late, my lord. She’s gone.”

She was his Isabelle, his heart…

Why had she jumped? Had she been unhappy? It couldn’t be that. He would have known, and he would have done anything in his power to make her happy.

“We must find her,” he told the men standing around him.

An older man, Richard’s head gardener, shook his head. “We can’t search in this weather, and her body will be gone by the time the storm ends. But we’ll try to find what we can on the morrow, if you wish.”

“I do,” Richard growled. Despair was replaced with vengeance.

He faced Stormclyffe. Lightning laced the skies behind it in a white, delicate pattern. The centuries-old castle loomed out of the darkness, a defensive wolf with the battlements as its bared teeth.

It didn’t matter that his infant son waited in a lonely cradle, eager for the loving touch of his remaining parent.

Richard was lost.

He wanted nothing to do with the life he’d had, the riches, the earldom. He despised it all. Every blessed memory he ever had that reminded him of Isabelle made him furious. She was gone from his life forever. He could not bring himself to dwell on his son; it only cleaved his chest in two. His love, his heart, was being battered against the rocks below.
StormcliffHallMeme1

Chapter 1

Weymouth, England, Present Day

Blood splashed against white porcelain, the ruby-red liquid spreading outward in a chaotic pattern.

Jane Seyton hissed, clutching her leg. The cut burned like the devil. She slapped a palm over the sliced flesh, but crimson liquid seeped through her fingers. She set down her razor and reached for the shower nozzle, aiming it at the red streaks, washing them down the drain. A thin trail of red still trickled down the tub’s edge, and she blasted with the nozzle again, desperately trying to erase the unsettling sight of her own blood.

She hobbled out of the shower, rummaging through her makeup bag until she found a Band-Aid.

Her room in the tiny inn was quiet, the silence thick and a little unsettling. She hummed to break up the suffocating lack of noise.

It had been a tiring journey from Cambridge to the small, desolate coast near Weymouth in southern England. The White Lady Inn had an almost macabre wooden sign, a silhouetted woman in white standing at the edge of a vast cliffside, her dress billowing out to sea in a cloud of smokelike swirls. It swung above the door and creaked with the slightest breeze. Despite the inn being situated between a lively pub and a quaint grocery store, there seemed to be a zone of quiet within the inn itself. Her room was a drab little place, with a narrow bed and whitewashed walls.

The same family had owned this inn for over two hundred years, passing it down from generation to generation. It was only natural that the place had seen better days and could use a little work. Yet, the awful silence made her skin tingle. She’d hardly slept last night, jumping at every small creak and groan. Taking herself to task, she’d consciously reminded herself that older places made such noises as the wood and stone settled into place.

Today she was driving up to the old castle-like manor house, Stormclyffe Hall, where she was going to meet the owner, the ninth Earl of Weymouth. After several emails back and forth, he’d reluctantly given her permission to tour the grounds along with other visitors but made no mention of getting access to the house’s historical papers. Her dissertation was on the tragic stories of some of Britain’s ancient castles and manor houses, with a particular emphasis on Stormclyffe and its effect on Weymouth. Her committee chair, Dr. Blackwell, had given her two weeks to find sources to supplement her theories on Stormclyffe Hall. Since the last four years of research footwork had been done on this one particular castle, she couldn’t switch the focus easily to another location. If she couldn’t get what she needed, she wouldn’t get Blackwell’s approval and she’d have to start her dissertation, for a PhD in history, over completely.

In order to complete her research, she had to find out what actually happened to the current earl’s ancestors, Richard and his wife, Isabelle, who’d both died under mysterious circumstances. Rumor had it Isabelle had committed suicide. People claimed to have seen her ghost walking the cliffs. Richard had been found one foggy morning shortly thereafter sprawled in his study, a broken brandy glass next to his body. He had apparently drunk himself to an early grave a year after his wife’s passing. The locals claimed the earl’s spirit was trapped within the walls of his castle, restlessly searching for his dead wife, his mournful cries piercing the air on windless nights.

What Jane hadn’t told the current earl or anyone else was the more personal reason for her focus on Stormclyffe Hall. Ever since she’d seen an old photo of it, she felt an almost mystical pull. Lately she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.

The hall whispered to her on the darkest of nights, with soft murmurs and teasing visions just as she began to fall asleep. Before dawn, she’d awaken, hands trembling with the feel of heavy stones against her palms, her heart racing and lips drawn back in a scream as though she’d fallen from the cliffs herself. What she felt, however, in each and every dream she had lately were hands shoving at her lower back, pushing her over the edge against her will.

The obsession with Stormclyffe had cost her so much already. The months of work on her dissertation were now at risk of being set aside if she couldn’t find primary sources. It would be back to square one if she had to pick another castle and start all of her initial research over again, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Her fiancé Tim had broken off their engagement and ended their two-year relationship, telling her he found her obsession with the castle “creepy” and that he worried she was mentally unstable.

But Jane’s dreams made her wonder if the young countess hadn’t jumped but been pushed by…someone. And that was the root of her obsession. The nightmares were slowly driving her mad, and she knew she had to get to the bottom of what happened to Isabelle if she ever hoped to find peace. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand waking up every night gasping for breath and her bones aching as though they’d been smashed upon saltwater-covered rocks. The last few months she and Tim had been together, her dreams had grown increasingly vivid and terrifying, and they’d woken him up as well.

The beginning of the end.

She would never forget the look on his face, the tightness to his eyes and the way his lips pursed as he’d held out his hand and asked for his engagement ring back. His bags were packed and sitting by the door, and he’d left within minutes of destroying her life and all of her hopes for the future. Their future.

With a little sigh, she smoothed her left thumb over the base of her naked fourth finger. Even after four months, she still felt bare without it. A splinter of pain shot through her chest, and she clenched her fist, avoiding looking at her hand anymore. She rubbed a towel through her hair before blow-drying it. She could have used a flat iron to tame the mess of dark waves, but she’d fried that when she first arrived in England and plugged it into the wall socket with a converter that hadn’t worked properly. She’d never gotten around to buying another one.

Not that it mattered. Given that her academic pursuits tended to involve panels of older, balding male professors in tweed jackets, she rarely bothered with her looks. Her current mission, though, required a more professional touch to her hair and wardrobe. She figured if she looked fashionable and presentable, it might help further her research goals. Easier said than done. She was fully aware she wasn’t the sort of woman men fawned over, but her dissertation depended on access to the earl’s family archives, and she’d get dolled up if it would help make sure he didn’t change his mind about letting her pry into his papers.

The current earl had proved initially reluctant to allow her access to his family history, but when she’d persisted through a deluge of emails and letters, he’d reluctantly said she’d be welcome to tour the grounds along with other tourists once the remodeling was over. That had been four months ago. Stormclyffe didn’t have a website to clue her in on whether the grounds were open to tourists or not, but the remodeling had to be done by now. She couldn’t wait any longer. And she wasn’t going to take no for an answer on getting into those original sources from the current earl.

A smile tugged at her lips.

Sebastian Carlisle, the ninth Earl of Weymouth. A rich playboy with the world at his fingertips. Of course he was tall, with gorgeous, dark blond hair like melted gold and eyes the shade of cinnamon. By all reports, his life consisted of fast cars, leggy models with perfect hair, and wealth beyond imagining. The man was definitely not her type, but she needed to impress him if she was to stay at the castle and work.

Her internet searches also revealed a fair amount about him, aside from his romantic entanglements, and she’d been impressed. With a PhD in history from Cambridge and degrees in numerous foreign languages, he showed a surprising amount of scholarship. Despite his flashy lifestyle, he’d helped push for preservation of historical landmarks throughout Britain and was a member of the Royal Historical Society.

His town house in London was rumored to have one of the country’s best library collections, second only to other collections in aristocratic homes like Althorp, home to the ninth Earl Spencer. Even she had to admit that despite Carlisle’s reputation as the most seductive man in all of England, and he might also be one of the smartest.

She slipped into her favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable pair of black boots before donning a thick, gray, cable-knit sweater. Back home in Charleston, the weather would be light and warm, but the English coast was always cold in late October. Sea spray drifted far into town, sinking into her bones through the walls of the White Lady Inn.

Though it was still early afternoon, the sky outside her room dimmed as the low-hanging clouds drifted off the sea, dragging their vast looming shapes through the town and blocking out the sun’s illumination. A chill seeped through the glass of the window, frosting the edges with dew that pebbled around the panes.

A sudden knot gathered at the base of her skull, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rising. The air inside was now as cold as outside. Her breath exhaled in a cottony puff, and her skin tingled with a strange sensation. Her muscles tensed in response as though her body expected something to happen. If she hadn’t known without a doubt that she was alone, she would have sworn someone was watching her.
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about the author

clip_image012 Lauren Smith is an attorney by day, author by night, who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s a native Oklahoman who lives with her three pets—a feisty chinchilla, sophisticated cat and dapper little schnauzer. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including being an Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter-Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. media links Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Amazon clip_image013clip_image003[1]clip_image015clip_image006[1]clip_image016

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Tour Schedule – One Week Blog Tour for The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall by Lauren Smith from Nov 17 to 25, 2014.
Nov 17
Kimber Leigh Writes – Promo
Kelly P’s Blog – Promo
Portals to New Worlds – Promo & Character Interview
Nov 18
A Cauldron of Books – Promo
Angels with Attitude Book Reviews – Promo & Author Interview
Nov 19
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The Adult Cover (And Everything in Between) – Promo
Nov 20
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Nov 21
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Bound 2 Escape – Promo
Stories and Swag! – Promo & Review
Nov 24
Books, Authors, Blogs – Promo & Top Ten
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Nov 25
Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog – Promo
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Booky Ramblings of a Neurotic Mom – Promo
Indy Book Fairy – Promo

Forced Disappearance ~ Dana Marton

Forced DisappearanceFORCED DISAPPEARANCE by Dana Marton

November 19th, 2014

 

 

 

When wealthy American businessman Glenn Danning goes missing in Venezuela, investigator Miranda Soto volunteers to track him down. It’s her first assignment for the Civilian Personnel Recovery Unit, but this mission is about more than salvaging the remnants of her shattered military career. Glenn was Miranda’s best friend and first lover, and she’ll do anything to save him from danger…especially since she just lost everything that mattered to her.

Glenn barely survived being kidnapped and tortured as a suspected spy, but the shock of seeing Miranda again gives him a new lease on life. Their still-simmering attraction grows hotter as the couple races through the treacherous jungle. Determined to reach safe ground, they must stay alive long enough to stop the terrifying enemy who still hunts Glenn. And even if they survive, Miranda’s dark past could jeopardize their future together…

 

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danamarton2Author bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Dana Marton has thrilled and entertained millions of readers around the globe with her fast-paced stories about strong women and honorable men who fight side by side for justice and survival.

Kirkus Reviews calls her writing “compelling and honest.” RT Book Review Magazine said, “Marton knows what makes a hero…her characters are sure to become reader favorites.” Her writing has been acclaimed by critics, called, “gripping,” “intense and chilling,” “full of action,” “a thrilling adventure,” and wholeheartedly recommended to readers. Dana is the winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, the Readers’ Choice Award, and Best Intrigue, among other awards. Her book, TALL, DARK, AND LETHAL was nominated for the prestigious Rita Award. DEATHSCAPE reached the #1 spot on Amazon’s Romantic Suspense Bestseller list.

Dana has a Master’s degree in Writing Popular Fiction, and is continuously studying the art and craft of writing, attending several workshops, seminars and conferences each year. Her number one goal is to bring the best books she possibly can to her readers.

Keeping in touch with readers is Dana’s favorite part of being an author. Please connect with her via her web site (www.danamarton.com) or her Facebook page (www.facebook.com/danamarton).

Having lived around the world, Dana currently creates her compelling stories in a small and lovely little town in Pennsylvania. The fictional town of her bestselling Broslin Creek series is based on her real life home where she fights her addictions to reading, garage sales, coffee and chocolate. If you know a good twelve-step program to help her with any of that, she’d be interested in hearing about it!

 

***Visit Dana’s website to read the first chapters of her books!

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Broslin Creek Series

#1  DEATHWATCH

The only person who can identify the most notorious hit man in the country, Kate Bridges is running for her life. Murphy Dolan is in the Army Reserves, returning from his 2nd tour of duty, only to find a stranger hiding in his house. She’s scared spitless. He’s completely burned-out on violence. Neither of them has any trust left to give.

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#2  DEATHSCAPE

After a near-death experience, artist Ashley Price is compelled to paint visions of the dead, and fears she’s gone crazy. Then she paints a man buried alive and, recognizing the surroundings, she rushes to save him. Instead of being grateful to her for rescuing him, Detective Jack Sullivan accuses her of being in league with a serial killer. He swears he will put her behind bars. Except, the more time he spends with her, the more he falls under her spell. Can he trust her, or is he walking into another deadly trap?

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#3  DEATHTRAP

She’d been “the sick girl” for most of her life. She refused to go straight to “the weird girl”. Heart-transplant recipient Sophie Curtis has been in her own antiseptic bubble for so long, she just might not be able to venture out into the real world again. Her spooky body memories are scary enough, but then she finds herself in the cross hairs of a killer.

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#4   DEATHBLOW

Former small-town football hero turned cop, Joe Kessler never met a linebacker, perp, or a woman he couldn’t handle. Then a troubled single mom walks into his life, and the only place this hot jock will ever see ‘easy’ again is in the dictionary.

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#5   BROSLIN BRIDE  Luanne Mayfair might have killed her boss a little. Fine, a lot. Pretty much all the way. Okay, it sounds bad when you say itlike that. But he was a sleazebag. Honest. The maids at the Mushroom Mile Motel that Earl Cosgrove managed often prayed for lightning to strike the lecherous bastard. Alas, God had seen fit to send Luanne instead.

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Broslin Creek Boxed Set (Books 1-3)

Great deal! You get 3 bestselling novels, 50% OFF regular price. ( Deathwatch, Deathscape, Deathtrap )

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Other Independent Titles:

 

Agents Under Fire (Guardian Agent, Avenging Agent,  Warrior Agent) Boxed set of 3 Novellas

GUARDIAN AGENT
A commando unit on the trail of a rogue soldier.
A determined young woman who will sacrifice anything to save her brother.
Recognizing one of the hunters as her teenage crush is definitely a shock to her system. Can she convince him that her brother was framed? Can she stop from falling in love with him all over again?

AVENGING AGENT
An undercover U.S. agent on a deadly mission.
A troublesome beauty surrounded by danger in a war-torn country.
They couldn’t be more different, but soon they must rely on each other to stay alive, uncovering a diabolical plot that could claim both of their lives.

WARRIOR AGENT
An undercover agent who has been tirelessly working for months to bring down a corrupt congressman. When the man’s goons capture him and lock him up, he knows they can’t afford to leave him alive.
His only chance at escape is the congressman’s new security guard, a damaged woman, freshly back from the war. He expects he’ll have to either manipulate her into setting him free or kill her.
He doesn’t expect to fall in love with her.

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The Third Scroll (Hardstorm Saga Book 1) (Epic Fantasy)

A maiden healer sold to barbarians.
A world of savage warlords and cruel concubines.
When ancient powers collide, can the slave save the realm and the high lord’s heart?

 

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