Excerpt – Just One Lie by Kyra Davis @_KyraDavis

I’m excited to share this teaser with you today.  I just finished this book.  WOW!  I am a huge Kyra Davis fan.  Enjoy!

Be sure to pre-order.  Just One Lie releases next week on July 28, 2015.

Stay tuned for my review and interview with Kyra next week.

Just One Lie Kyra Davis

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EXCERPT:

It is the perfect moment…until I spot him standing near the corner of the room. He’s almost entirely in the shadows, his features barely visible, but still, I recognize him. There’s something about the way that man holds himself. Right now he’s leaning against a beam, his arms crossed over his chest, chin up. Like with a lion, it’s difficult to tell if he’s on the verge of sleeping or attacking. The first time I saw him-when was that, a year ago? No, over thirteen months since we met-I couldn’t stop staring. I loved his high, chiseled cheekbones and his lightly tanned skin that hinted at a possible Native American heritage, or maybe Latino. But then his bright green eyes insisted that the story wasn’t so straightforward. Oh, and I loved his tribal tattoos and the way his full lips curved into a slow, sensual smile when he saw me for the first time at that club in Seattle. An aspiring musician is how he described himself, but that night, when he sang to me, I could see that his talent was a lot more than aspirational.

His first name is Ash-maybe it’s short for Asher or Ashley, I don’t know, and at the time I didn’t care. I just recall thinking that a man with a name like that had to have a story to tell, one that involved passion and adventure and yeah, okay, maybe a little destruction. We talked for hours and I had felt like I understood him in a way that I had never understood anyone else. And then, later, I realized I didn’t know a thing about him. All our words and intimacies had left us strangers.

Ash is the stranger who took my life.

One night with him, one night of rapture. That’s all it took to put an end to Melody Fitzgerald.

And as if killing me wasn’t enough, this son of a bitch has reappeared and he’s fucking with my moment!

I pull my eyes away and find Rick, the owner of the club, standing at the edge of the bar. Next to him is a couple. A man with light brown hair and chiseled chin with his arm wrapped around an ironed-straight blonde with the sinuous figure of a runway model. All these beautiful people are here to see me! That’s what I have to focus on. Not him. Never, ever him.

And yet, even as I refuse to bring my eyes back to Ash, my mind can’t seem to leave him.

The music pushes me forward, forcing me to continue even as I feel my chest tighten. There’s not enough air in here for this. How could I have not noticed that before? Tonio jumps into his guitar solo and I use the opportunity to take a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling the unmistakable scent of marijuana floating up from somewhere on the dance floor. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. None of this can matter, nothing but the music and what it can do. With new resolve I fall back into the song, attacking it with even more ferocity than before. The crowd hears it and loves it.

And now it’s me that’s moving, across the stage and back again, running, screaming, and the crowd screams right back. This is everything. But then there he is, leaning against that beamn, just…watching me. Has he followed me? Isn’t one death enough for him? The question stirs up some rage I’ve been trying to set aside since our last meeting. Impulsively I knock the microphone stand to the ground with the smack of my open palm. The crowd thinks it’s part of the act and so I go on, finding that I can rejoice in anger as much as any other emotion. As we reach the last stanza, Traci’s and Tonio’s voices join mine, and the sound is an assult on anyone who would ever dream of challenging us. Maybe tomorrow they’ll say I’m a cross between Courtney Love and Fiona Apple. Maybe they’ll say the whole band is destined for fame and greatness. Yeah, that’s what they’ll say, those who are sober enough to remember. But right now they just cheer as our song comes to an end.

“Thank you,” I whisper into the mic. I look back at Ash. Even from here I cans see that he’s clapping, but it’s a slow, purposeful movement. He puts his hand to his mouth, kisses his palm, and then extends his arm leisurely toward me. It’s not so much that he’s blowing me a kiss as he is offering it to me. Inviting me to climb down from my pedestal and take it from him. Again I inhale deeply. “So, I gotta ask you guys something,” I continue. “It’s the end of an era and you’re bringing in the new millennium at Apocalypse listening to a band called fucking Resurrection. Is that tripping anyone else out?” There were yells of approval and at least one person cries hell yes! “By the way,” I add, “it’s really just Resurrection, only our parents call usfucking Resurrection.” General laughter and one woman screams out, “Parents suck!”

Ooh, if these guys only knew how much I agree with that one. “Incase you missed it, this stud on the guitar is Tonio.” Tonio strums out a few wrenching chords as the crowd cheers. “The hot chick in the leather mini is Traci.” Traci plays the opening piano notes of “Sympathy for the Devil.” It’s doubtful that this crowd recognizes it even as they whistle and scream for her, but I do, and the reference makes me laugh. “And allow me to introduce our new drummer! Brad’s only been with us for a week and he’s killing it, am I right?” The crowd roars as Brad launches into a drum solo that is so intense, so aggressive, and so beautiful I turn my back on the audience, momentarily forgetting all of them, even my killer, as I lock eyes with this man who must have sold his soul for this kind of talent. His lips curve into a little half smile as his sticks fly across the stretched membrane surfaces. Physically he doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the group-too athletic, too clean cut, too aristocratic-but the rest of his viciously beautiful rhythm is downright sinful.

When he ends with a perfectly executed clash, I realize for the first time that I’ve been holding my breath. The crowd cries out, solidifying the triumph as I match his smile with my own and slowly pivot back to the room. “And of course, I’m Mercy. I…” but I give up on continuing as the crowd erupts again, drowning me out with their cheers, chanting my name.

My new name, a choice I made for myself only months ago, now reverberating through the room: Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.It’s on the lips and tongues of everyone in this room…except for his. Beneath the harmonious hum of voices, like an insidious undercurrent, I can hear his silent accusations: That is not who you are. You are not Mercy.

I swallow and look into the spotlight, letting the light assault my vision, temporarily turning the entire club into a murky blur as the crowd quiets enough for me to speak again. “So we got”-I turn and point to the large red numbers projected by a laser clock onto the wall behind my head-“fifteen minutes until the four horsemen arrive. I’m thinking we better stop wasting time and get back into this!”

The crowd cheers again. I spot Rick giving me a thumbs-up as the rugby guy next to him pumps his fist in the air. And again Tonio strums the strings of his guitar. And again my voice rises high then low, elating the crowd and giving me the fortitude to turn my thoughts away from the beast who watches me from the shadows.

And when it’s 11:59 we stop midsong. I hold my hands up in the air and point to the numbers. “It’s almost Y2K time, people!” I cry and glance back at Rick, who is staring intently at his watch. And then he lifts his hand and begins to tick off the seconds with his fingers as I count them down into the mic, “Ten, nine, eight…”

The crowd’s counting with me. “…seven, six…” The beautiful black man has raised his glass in the air; a young woman behind him scrambles on top of the bar with a small video camera in her hand. “…three…” The muscle boy is bounding his fist against the stage. “…two, one!”

And the room erupts. Confetti flies everywhere and the kind of fragmented light that comes from a disco ball splashes across the celebrants. Tonio pops a bottle of cheap champagne he’d been hiding in the wings and douses everyone in the band with it before passing it around. I let the bubbles tickle my tongue, then turn back to the microphone and launch into a happier, more celebratory tune. The people standing beneath us have woven together like vines against the wall, limbs tangled with limbs, lips against lips. There is no separation, no individual distinctions. They all have become a snarled mass of exhilaration and lust.

Except for Ash. He continues to just stand there, apart from all of it. He’s simply watching me. Waiting for me to come to him and claim my kiss.

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#MercysChoice

About the Author

Kyra Davis


New York Times bestselling author of JUST ONE NIGHT, DECEPTIVE INNOCENCE, the Sophie Katz mysteries, SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING and the upcoming DANGEROUS ALLIANCE, JUST ONCE MORE and JUST ONE LIE (July 28th, 2015).

Release Day – Elude by Rachel Van Dyken @RachVD @inkslingerpr

Release Day

Elude by Rachel Van Dyken

 

eludeThe sixth book in the internationally bestselling Eagle Elite Series.

*Interconnected Stand Alone*

 

Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married–I offered to shoot her.

Ten hours before our wedding–I made a mockery of her dying wish.

Five hours before we were going to say our vows–I promised I’d never love her.

One hour before I said I do–I vowed I’d never shed a tear over her death.

But the minute we were pronounced man and wife–I knew.

I’d only use my gun to protect her.

I’d give my life for hers.

I’d cry.

And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl—a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.

I always believed the mafia would be my end game–where I’d lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.

Or the beginning of something beautiful.

The beginning of her.

The end of us.


 

Elude by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.

 

 

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .


Release Day/Blog Tour- Work of Art – The Unveiling Book 2 by Ruth Clampett @ruthywrites

 Release Day/Blog Tour

Work of Art- The Unveiling Book Two by Ruth Clampett

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Famed artist, Maxfield Caswell is missing.
Three of his major paintings have been savagely defaced and his house left in ruins. As his friends search for him, does his muse, Ava, hold the key?
Before the hope of love is lost, secrets will be told, spirits will be broken, and a price will be paid.
From the cave dwellings of New Mexico to the shores of Malibu, Max and Ava’s journey tests them to their limits. As they render passion and pain in broad strokes, will their all-consuming love rise from the debris?
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On the way to my car, he stops me. “Ava, I need to say something.”

“Yes?”

He pauses on the walkway, looks down and kicks a pebble toward

the lawn.

“I know that as much I’d like to…I can’t ask you not to see

Jonathan…”

What? I glance up at him with my head tipped to the side.

He’s twisting his hands together as I wait for him to continue. He

finally looks me square in the eyes.

“…But, will you do me a favor? Don’t fall in love with him.”

I arch my brow. “Did you really just ask me that?” Should I tell him

there’s little to no chance of my falling in love with Jonathan now?

He gets a devilish look in his eyes as he holds up his hands in surrender.

“I know, I know…I just don’t want you to get involved with

him on the rebound.”

I put my hands on my hips and arch my brow. “Max, to be on the

rebound you have to have been in a relationship to rebound from.”

He seems to ignore my logic. “Besides, Ava, you could still be really

attracted to me and not know it.”

“Really? I don’t think my attraction to you is in question.”

“Yeah, what if you’re secretly falling in love with me?”

I playfully push him on the shoulder. “You wish!” I tease.

“There’s only one way to know for sure. Don’t you think you should

know before you go out with Jonathan again?”

“One way to know for sure?”

“Yes. Kiss me. I promise I won’t touch you—look, hands free!” He

tucks his hands into his back pockets.

My mouth falls open as I press my thighs together. Just the idea of

being kissed again by Max makes me instantly hot and bothered.

“Just one little kiss,” he says in a low voice.

I can’t believe he’s playing this game with me. But the fire in his eyes

and the sweet smile on his face are more than I can bear. I take a step

toward him. Two can play this game.

“So, if I feel nothing, we’ll agree to be friends—that’s it—no complications.

And I can friggin’ marry Jonathan if I so choose.”

He makes a sour face, but nods anyway.

I bite my lip as I look into his eyes. One kiss, one kiss…I close my

eyes as I edge closer until I can feel the heat shimmering from his skin.

“Oh, Ava,” he whispers, a deep longing in his voice.

His breath on my cheek undoes me, and when our lips meet, they

meld together as if they’d just kissed a moment earlier. We kiss languidly,

sensuously, our tongues meeting in an erotic dance. He gently

bites my bottom lip before I press my lips even harder against his. An

overwhelming current suddenly surges through me, practically knocking

me over.

Oh my God! I’m on fire. I run one of my hands along his shoulder

and behind his neck, pulling him closer, while winding my other hand

into his hair and tugging it passionately. Our bodies are pressed together

so tightly I feel as if I’m one with him.

He moans my name over and over as the kiss intensifies. I’m lost in

his sweet mouth, his lips turning me into a traitor to logic and reason.

When I finally pull away to gasp for air, he grins widely, and the

bright-eyed expression on his face is victorious. He gambled big and

won.

Like there was ever a question—he owns me. He probably has all

along; it’s just taken me all this time to figure it out.

He studies me with a spark in his eyes, and he takes a sharp breath.

He takes his hands out of his pockets as if to grab me and never let me go.

My heart’s so full I can’t help but shine with a smile.

I remember we’re taking things slow, so without a word, I hurry to

my car before he can say something to draw me back into his arms. But

even as I flee the charged atmosphere and speed down PCH, I can feel

his joy follow me all the way home.

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Book 2, The Unveiling is up for pre-order now.

Amazon US

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Website ~ FaceBook~Twitter~Goodreads

Add Work of Art to Goodreads

 

Ruth Clampett, daughter of legendary animation director, Bob Clampett, has spent a lifetime surrounded by art and animation. A graduate of Art Center College of Design, her careers have included graphic design, photography, VP of Design for WB Stores and teaching photography at UCLA. She now runs her own studio as the fine art publisher for Warner Bros. where she’s had the opportunity to know and work with many of the greatest artists in the world of animation and comics.

The Work of Art Trilogy is Ruth’s third publishing endeavor, following Animate Me and Mr. 365. She lives in Los Angeles and is heavily supervised by her teenage daughter, lovingly referred to as Snarky, who loves art and visiting museums as much as her mom.

 

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Blog Tour: Giveaway – The Librarian Principle by Helena Hunting @HelenaHunting @NinaBocci

Blog Tour: Giveaway x 2 -The Librarian Principle 

by Helena Hunting

 

Profile portrait of businessman working on laptop  in black suit at studio

Annaliese Harper knows that one tiny mistake can jeopardize a career before it’s even begun. Letting your boss find the extensive collection of porn on your personal laptop is one way. Sleeping with him is another. Liese manages to do both.

As the new librarian at a prestigious small-town private high school, Liese is drawn to her sexy, charismatic principal, Ryder Whitehall—an attraction she refuses to acknowledge given their relationship and her recent liberation from a delusional ex-boyfriend.

Liese is certain Ryder’s flirtation is the product of her sex-deprived imagination—until he discovers her digital porn stash during working hours and demands a private meeting. Behind closed doors, their attraction explodes into a dangerous, passionate affair that not only threatens their jobs and reputations, but most of all, their hearts.

Portrait of a couple having sex in office

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I am giving away 2 eBook copies of The Librarian Principle by Helena Hunting.  Enter to win!

1.  Leave a comment on this post.  What was your favorite 2014 read?

2.  Two winners will be selected via random.org on Tuesday 12/30 at noon and will be notified via email. No purchase necessary to participate.

3.  Good Luck and Happy Reading!

About the Author – Helena Hunting

Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s putting her degree in English Lit to good use by writing contemporary erotic romance. She is the author of Clipped Wings, her debut novel, and Inked Armor.
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