~ Another Great #EggcerptExchange by Kim Cox ~ from THE WEDDING CRASHER ~

Got another great eggcerpt for you, but first let's hear a little bit about the book...

BLURB ~

Lana Malloy is marrying the love of her life, Tony Calabria. The night before, she has a vision of a disturbing wedding and wonders if it’s a premonition of her own. Feeling silly for thinking that, she proceeds with her plans as scheduled.

During their honeymoon in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, Lana has visions of a young woman abducted by a madman, who will be forced to marry him if he isn’t stopped. She senses marriage isn’t the worst thing that could happen to this woman as she feels the threads of death circling her. She believes this isn’t the first woman the man has abducted and murdered; he’s killed before.

Lana can’t ignore her visions. Will Tony understand this isn’t an obsession, but a calling, and Lana has to do whatever it takes for this young woman? Will she find the victim in time? If she doesn’t, life will never be the same.

EGGCERPT ~

Chapter One

As Lana walked down the aisle, Tony’s love filled her heart and a tear trickled from her eye. She was finally here after realizing there was nothing to be afraid of—nothing at all. So why did she want to turn around and run—run from the church and run for her life? But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t be a runaway bride.

Her footsteps slowed. She felt like she was trudging through deep mud. Then her legs wouldn’t move at all. She looked hopelessly at Tony. The smile left his face and he looked horrified. The look of horror changed to disgust.

She yanked and pulled at her feet without success. What was going on? She tried to cry out, but not a sound escaped. She pulled her long wedding dress up to her knees, and tried to jerk her fashionably heel-clad foot from the carpeted floor. It was impossible. This couldn’t be happening, at least, not on the most important day of her life. She moaned and grunted. She yelled, “Tony!” Her voice sounded as if it came out through a vacuum in slow motion.

Next, she looked around and everyone froze as if paused with a remote control. Everyone except Tony, who gave her a nasty look and walked quickly past her, through the back door, and out of the church. Someone was in his place, but she couldn’t tell who he was. As if someone pressed play again, her feet began to move freely. The crowd became active once more, smiling and whispering. Tony’s brother still stood up as best man to the right of the other man. He smiled at her as she reluctantly made her way to the altar. She couldn’t stop walking; although, all she wanted was to turn around and run after Tony.

When she reached the front of the church where the man she loved should’ve been, the man turned and took her arm, but his face was blank. Who was he? She still had no idea. Lana twisted around to gaze into the crowd. She yelled for help, but everyone just continued to smile at them lovingly—as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Tony even sat with the crowd now, smiling at her. The scene fast forward and it was all over. Everyone rushed to where they stood and wished them happiness.

Tony hugged her and said, “This was the right thing to do. You’ll be very happy with Myles. I won’t hold it against you.”

Lana jerked awake and looked at her clock. It was four in the morning, and she’d slept for an hour. Her bridal shower hadn’t ended until two. This was to be her wedding day and she’d just had the worst nightmare about a wedding anyone could have. What was she supposed to do now? Call it off? Did this mean that marrying Tony would be the worst mistake of her life? Was her life partner supposed to be this Myles person? Who the hell is Myles anyway!

Available now in ebook through Amazon, 24Symbols. Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iTunes, Page Foundry, and Scribd.

Other Books Available in the Series

In book one, HAUNTED HEARTS, Lana sets out to solve her first case—the twenty-year old cold-case and double murder of her great aunt and her great aunt’s fiancé. If she succeeds, they’ll spend eternity together; if she can’t, they’ll be stuck as Haunted Hearts. With the help of the ghosts and a new love interest, she is able to find the murderer.

In book two, GET OUT OR DIE, the success of Lana’s first case has spread throughout the local Charleston area and her business is booming. At one pro-bono job, Lana helps a widow communicate with her late husband where she learns of a frightening new ability—an ability that could give the next spirit, an angry ghost, the upper hand if she’s not careful.

In the fourth book, CHRISTMAS CRUISE, Lana boards a cruise ship haunted by dead women who were brutally murdered. While aboard the ship Lana has an experience that mentally injures her. Once she recovers, she's more determined than ever to find the murderer.

AUTHOR BIO ~

Kim Cox is an author of Paranormal, Mystery, Suspense and Romance. She lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina with her chain saw artist husband, their West Highland White Terriers--Scooter and Harley, and a Yorkie mix, Candi. Kim is published in novels, short stories and articles.

Sign up for Kim's Readers List for exclusive information, new releases, contests, giveaways, and free books.

Visit her at the following sites:

Author's Website: http://www.kimcoxauthor.com

Blogs: Kim's Musings, Kim's Author Support Page

Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/kimcox

Social Media locations:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimCoxAuthor

Google: https://plus.google.com/+KimCoxAuthor/posts

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/kimcox

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kimwrtr/

~ Another Great #EggcerptExchange, by Kim Headlee ~ from THE CHALLENGE ~

I've got another wonderful #eggcerpt for you, so hop on along and take a look...

Blurb ~

The gauntlet is thrown. One must die. Refusal is not an option.

Arthur the High King of Breatein has fallen captive of a longtime enemy, the Saxon warrior-princess Camilla, who lusts to avenge the death of her betrothed at Gyan’s hands and will stop at nothing, even the black arts, to achieve her goal. Because Gyan and Arthur have grown estranged, she fears that Arthur may side with Camilla and make her his new queen.

To meet Camilla’s challenge, Gyan must face all her demons—public as well as private.

Eggcerpt ~

With a shudder Gyan recalled the rumor that Camilla had enlisted demonic aid…

She banished those thoughts, and their attendant fears, by pondering the irony that Camilla had tried to strike at her through Arthur. It might have worked, once. The passion that had colored the early years of their marriage was still celebrated in song throughout Breatein and Caledon.

These days, she wasn’t singing.

This was the shortest of the excerpts that Kim sent me, and they were all fantastic, but I LOVED the way this one ended! Now, let's find out a bit more about our lady Gyan...

What is the meaning of your name? 

I am Gyanhumara nic Hymar, daughter of Hymar and her consort, Ogryvan. My mother, whose name means “song,” named me her “rarest song,” for I was fated before birth to be the only daughter she would ever bear. Those who do not ken the Caledonach tongue call me by many other names: Vennevria… Guanhumara… Ganora… Gwenhwyfar… Guenevara… Guinevere. I am none of those women.

I am Gyanhumara.

My kin and closest friends call me Gyan. You may call me “Your Majesty.”


As you wish, of course. Please describe your job, Your Majesty.

I am Chieftainess of Clan Argyll of Caledon, a position I inherited from my mother. When my husband Arthur was acclaimed High King of Breatein by virtue of his—our—victories over the Saxons, Scots, and other enemies of his people the Breatanaich, I became High Queen to rule at Arthur’s side.

Though I remain honored that Arthur’s people hold much love and respect for me, the added responsibilities have proven to be far more of a burden than I could have ever foreseen.

Do you have a favorite place to visit?

The Sanctuary of the Chalice on St. Padraic’s Isle. In the churchyard lie the bodies of the first men to die under my command. Their gravestones serve to remind me that war should only be pursued after all other avenues toward peace have failed. Inside the church sits enshrined one of the holiest relics of all Christendom… and the only means by which I have ever attained forgiveness for the mistakes I’ve made. And those mistakes are, indeed, legion.


This may be a sensitive question, but please tell us, Your Majesty, about your significant other.

Ah, Arthur, my life, my heart, my soul… my dearest love. How did we ever come to a point where we scarcely share an intimate word anymore? I blame the pressures of governing the people, of protecting them from invasions and famines and plagues and sundry other threats.

But most of all, I blame myself for the poor choices I have made that have widened our rift.


What is your most important goal? 

I would give anything for the chance to set things aright with Arthur. Anything, even my very life itself.

What is your worst nightmare? 

Ha! You have doubtless heard that in mere moments I must face in combat a woman reputed to be in league with a demon. Is that not nightmare enough for you?


Please forgive me, Your Majesty; I intended no offense. Thank you so much for your precious time, and I wish you success in this battle… and beyond.

(Gyan inclines her head, a slight smile bending her lips. The smile inverts as she tugs on her gloves, dons her helmet, claps hand to hilt, and strides off to meet her foe.) 

And, as a special extra, Kim sent along a sample of her graphic novel!

So cool!

Author Bio ~

Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet. She has been an award-winning novelist since 1999 (Dawnflight 1st edition, Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster) and has been studying the Arthurian Legends for nigh on half a century. 

Links ~

You can find Kim here:
 

WORLDWIDE AMAZON KINDLE LINK – http://getBook.at/The_Challenge_by_KIH_Kindle (Kindle Unlimited)

You can buy THE CHALLENGE here: (Come on. I dare ya!)



AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE (Worldwide link) – http://Author.to/Kim_Headlee_Amazon_page

BLOG – http://kimiversonheadlee.blogspot.com

NEWSLETTER – http://eepurl.com/boiQ0z

FACEBOOK – https://www.facebook.com/KimIversonHeadlee

TWITTER – https://twitter.com/KimHeadlee

I've thoroughly enjoyed having you as my guest today, Kim. Please come back anytime!

~ You'll Weep An EXORDIUM OF TEARS If You Miss Out On This Read by Andrew P. Weston ~

Isn't this an awesome tour banner? It fills me with energy! Please help me welcome back author Andrew P. Weston with his newest, EXORDIUM OF TEARS!

Please tell us a little bit about yourself. 

My name is Andrew Weston and I am a Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with my wife, Annette, and our growing family of rescue cats. An astronomy and law graduate, I’m a contracted writer of fiction and poetry. My latest novel Exordium of Tears, is the sequel to the international #1 bestseller, The IX, and I’m thrilled at the interest it seems to be attracting across the genres. I also have the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers. Believe it or not, I do get a little spare time and devote some of that to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writing educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

Why are you a writer?

Because my inner demons would drive me crazy if I didn’t. I’d always wanted to write, but a busy lifestyle at school, college, and then at work, strangled any opportunity to realize my dream. It wasn’t until I was injured on duty and forced to retire early that I suddenly found myself gifted with a wealth of time. Needless to say, I put it to good use, and now, I have a plethora of characters and ideas all queuing to have their stories told.



What is your earliest memory of wanting to be a writer?

As I recall, I was five years old, and had just completed Gulliver’s Travels (yes, I know that’s young, but I could read before I went to school). I loved the premise of the story, and decided there and then that, one day, I’d write my own story of high adventure against overwhelming odds. It took a few years, but I got there. :)



What are your favorite subject(s) and style(s)?

Without a doubt, that would be science fiction and fantasy. Although many people feel science fiction has stagnated in recent years, I feel it’s a genre that allows tremendous flexibility. (As indeed, does fantasy). You can have all the action and adventure you want, and still find room for political intrigue, criminal thrills, historical drama, and romance. It has everything an enquiring mind needs to flourish.

That’s why I had such fun with The IX and Exordium of Tears. The series is a fast flowing science-fiction opera of magnificent scope, whose premise is based in actual history. What became of the lost ninth legion of Rome? Wow, what a subject to be let loose on.



How do you work and approach your subject?

I’m something of a contradiction. Before I start work, I engage in a great deal of research. The premise of The IX, for example, took three months of dedicated hard graft to nail down. Once that was completed, I drafted out a rough plan. I call it a plot map. I know where the journey begins, where it ends, and the important ports of call in between.

However, once the voyage is underway, I allow the protagonists/antagonists and the story itself to take on a life of their own. That’s important. If your story fails to become animated, then it’s certainly not going to entertain your readers. So, as mine come to life, I allow the characters and all the unexpected twists and turns to lead me where they will. I’ve been amazed on a number of occasions, as this technique helps me come up with some imaginative plot changes and tweaks that I’d have otherwise missed.



What are your favorite written works, writers?

I have wide tastes, so I’ll start with something enduring.

Stephen Donaldson.

His depth of writing is outstanding. I don’t know if you’ve ever read any of his work, but his vocabulary is enigmatic. And while his plots are incredibly complex, they are vividly portrayed. He builds tension in a way I’ve never seen in other novelists, and he is a literary god. Absolutely superb. I can only aspire to his level of achievement. (And yes, over the past thirty-six years, I’ve collected all his books) :)


Another author who has inspired me over the decades is Raymond E. Feist.

His vision is epic, and his ability to create living, stunning, and relatable worlds, protagonists/antagonists, etc, is second to none. A wonderful example too, of weaving multiple characters into a story and not neglecting a single one of them. My bookshelves are full of his work.

Now, if I went back in time, then 1984 & Animal Farm by George Orwell would certainly be on my list. The allegorical messages contained within those tales are an extremely accurate reflection on the divisive nature of society. We have the tendency to fracture ourselves in a multitude of ingenious ways that never ceases to amaze me. If only we’d learn the lesson he so cleverly portrayed within their pages, the world would be a better place.



What are the best responses you have had to your work?

I’ll include some “shortened” brief clips here from the leading lights of speculative fiction. It will give you an accurate idea as to the nature of the responses The IX Series is drawing:

Weston deftly weaves the horrors of the Horde stealing human life-essences, with the beauty of his prose and imagery. I was right there, on Arden, while reading. Action-packed through every chapter, the story unfolds as former enemies are forced to learn how to trust each other, to trust the visions and experiences of those who walk the spirit-world, and to share information. I highly recommend this book to fans of SF/fantasy, & horror.
Amazing Stories 

The IX Series has taken me back to the books I enjoyed in my youth (Jerry Pournelle's King David's Spaceship or Gordon Dickson's Hour of the Horde) It flows wonderfully. There's constant motion, and Weston takes the story in unexpected directions that are intriguing and fun.

If you're in need of some fast-paced storytelling, lots of action, and an army of characters drawn from Earth's past and future, The IX should serve you well.
Black Gate Fantasy

Weston knows how to keep the reader on the edge of the seat without feeling as though the mission will never end. This is a complex combination of history, imagination and science fiction magic as is available today. A strong book by a solid author.
Grady Harp: Hall of Fame/Top 100 /Vine Reviewer

When it comes to science fiction, I want a book that captures me from page one and never gives me a reason to want to escape. I want a book that forces me to stay up until 3 a.m., because there is no point at which it is ideal to put it down. I want a book whose characters and plots are complex and intelligent, but elegantly crafted with the minimum of distraction. The IX delivers.
Fanboy Comics

Weston continues his tradition of mixing the best of the best with new, thrilling storylines. The attention to detail is astounding. If Exordium of Tears is any indication of the growth Weston will continue to undergo as a writer, the story will only get better from here.
Epicstream



What do you like about your work?

I love the fact that I can see it improving with every novel I produce, and that it continues to bring pleasure to those who are drawn to read them. It’s so rewarding to witness its appeal to people across a broad spectrum of ages and backgrounds. What’s more, I’ve been told on a number of occasions that my work bridges the boundaries between genres. That’s exactly what I need to hear, as it helps me direct my energies along the right track, and spurs me on to greater efforts.



What advice would you give to other writers?

Never stop trying to improve your craft. You owe it to yourself and to your readers to be the very best you can be. That means continued hard work, application, and having the sense to listen to those who have more experience than you do, and who are in a better position to offer constructive criticism.



Where do you see yourself in 5-10 years?

Where George R. R. Martin is now, only writing more books to keep the fans happy. :)

Thank you, Andrew! Now let's hear more about EXORDIUM OF TEARS...

Blurb ~

Fight or die.

That simple yet brutal reality is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – were forced to live by while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.



But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.



The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with a resurgence in floral and faunal diversity comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation. A metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.



Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state secrets. Such revelations are eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.



Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum (the highest levels of Arden’s government) that not all the rabid Horde had joined in the rampage across the stars toward Arden.



Realizing that the peril still exists, the newly reformed administration elects to respond in earnest. Existing resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies.



A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.



It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting forces is deployed.



Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…



Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

Excerpt ~

The final gate proved seamless. Like the walls, it was made from lydium, and Joe knew they couldn’t force their way through. Fortunately, only a simple keypad and retinal scan security pod still barred their way.

Fonzy examined the setup and took out his box of tricks again. Andy and Stu shuffled to one side and completed a series of equipment and ammunition checks.

“The Architect downloaded several old ciphers into my database,” Fonzy murmured, “along with the ocular imprints of the previous command staff, so I should have this open in a jiffy.”

Joe turned back to cover the corridor and seized the unexpected opportunity to give himself a once-over as well. He didn’t have long. A prolonged buzz sounded, quickly followed by a loud clunk.

“Heads up!”

The huge door swung silently inward under its own weight. The blackness within seemed to leach out into the corridor.

Joe stepped across the threshold and scanned the interior.

The storeroom was a soldier’s nightmare. At over a hundred yards wide and more than twice that long, multiple aisles branched away from a main access corridor. Every one of them was stacked floor to ceiling with rack upon rack of packing cases and assorted boxes; a veritable maze of blind spots, and hidden nooks and crannies. Even the advanced photosensitive capabilities of Joe’s HUD failed to illuminate some of the darker corners.

“What do you think, Boss?” Andy enquired.

Joe considered his options.

Too many unknowns. Too many variables.
“Are there any residual energy readings?” he asked. “And if so, where?”

Fonzy stepped up and waved the radar gun backward and forward a few times. He studied the readout and jutted his chin toward the northeast quadrant.

“That way, a hundred and sixty, maybe a hundred and seventy feet. Levels are low, but indicative of depleted cells. If there are any mutants about, they’ll be congregated in that vicinity.”

“Why?” Andy chipped in. “Surely you’re not thinking we go in there?”

“Nooo . . . but I am thinking of going fishing.” Joe produced a thermos-type flask from his kidney pouch. He held it up. “I took the liberty of visiting the quartermaster before we set out. Remember, if any strays have been holed up in here, they’ve had to exist on low grade dross for nearly twelve months now. They’ll be famished. This contains a gram of pure berydium, a highly energetic, short-lived isotope. Once I crack the seal it’ll only last for ten to twelve seconds before it breaks down entirely, but that’ll be sufficient to flush our soul-sucking fiends out into the open. Of course, once they’re roused, we can expect a rather focused reaction . . .”

He let the thought sink in.

“Is everyone ready?”

Three affirmatives rang back.

“Right . . . Fonzy, you’re with me. When I deploy the bait, we will cover the hatch and ensure nothing escapes. Andy, Stu, you’ll be the main fire team. Take up position over there, behind those containers. Overlap your arcs. If the Horde are here, they’ll come fast and they’ll come hard. Take them out. If you experience any stoppages, don’t hang about. Use a micro-singularity grenade and get your ass back here. We will cover your retreat. If one of you has to withdraw, the other will follow immediately. No one gets left behind. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

“Right, you know the drill. Set active-cam and motion diffusers to maximum.”

Joe hunkered down by the doorway, watching through his HUD as the team got into place. They went still, blending into their surroundings as if they didn’t exist.

When he deemed everything ready, Joe entered a three digit code into the pad on the lid of the canister. As a digital readout started counting down from ten, he tossed it along the gangway, and fixed it in his sights.

Tsssssst!

The lid cracked open.

They waited . . .

And waited . . .

Is that bloody thing working? They assured me —

Crash! Crash! Crash!

What the fuck?

Joe couldn’t prevent an electric jolt from surging through him. He peered into the far reaches of the chamber, alarmed to see several distant storage shelves toppling. Closely ranked, each tier smashed into the next in line, falling toward him like oversized dominoes.

“I’ve got movement!” Fonzy snapped. His announcement made Joe jump again. “Sixty yards out and converging on us from all sides. Signal’s clean.”

“No shit?” Joe glanced toward his fire team’s position. “Andy. Stu. You’re safe where you are, but it’s going to get a little loud. Don’t be surprised if one or two things bounce over your hea–”

“I’m not just talking about the metalwork,” Fonzy said. “They’re fifty yards out.”

“Contact!” Joe warned. “Coming straight at us. Hold your fire until they’ve swarmed the isotope. Fonzy? Give us an indication of numbers.”

“At least two dozen.”

Two dozen? Shit!

“Guys, change of plan. Too many to deal with all at once. Fall in on me and we’ll hit them with —”

Booom!

A colossal fireball erupted from the center of the warehouse. Joe threw himself to one side in an effort to avoid the wash of searing light and heat thundering his way, but he was caught by an invisible fist and smashed back against the wall.

Air exploded from his lungs, and the room about him shook. He saw stars, as overwhelming pressure threatened to rupture fragile capillaries.

“Report!” he yelled above the din.

Although his ears were ringing, Joe heard a guttural roaring from somewhere in front of him. It got louder and louder with each passing second.

Head spinning, he dragged himself into a sitting position and looked up. Only then did he notice the bottom of his coveralls were on fire.

How in the . . . ?

He beat at his legs with his free hand. Pain lanced through his shoulder with every movement. Ignoring it, he continued searching about in hope.

“Andy? Stu?”

The area where they had been concealed was now a pile of twisted metal and burning debris. Of his colleagues, there was no sign.

Fuck! What the hell happened?

“Report!” Joe yelled again in growing desperation. “Assault group, sound off!”

A smoking heap of clothes and charred flesh lay on the floor beside him.

Fonzy?

The background shrieking got louder.

Confused, Joe wiped his face and raised his weapon. His hand came away covered in blood. An odd feeling of detachment trickled over him as he blinked repeatedly, trying to make his eyes focus. Waves of dizziness consumed him. Mesmerized, he peered into the growing inferno.

Was it alive? It acted as if it had a mind of its own. In some places flames warped and contorted in on themselves before disappearing into shadow, but in others they flared into incandescent effigies, possessed of terrifying horns, talons, and fangs.

Horde!

Joe fumbled for his grenades and came up empty. The cruel inevitability of his situation struck home.

They must have been stripped from me in the blast . . .

. . . ah well.

The nearest ogres spotted him and howled. An angry skein of midnight-blue and orange passion skittered through the pack’s combined essence.

Somehow, Joe found the presence of mind not to panic, and set about methodically checking his surroundings. He was rewarded by the sight of Fonzy’s G40A, discarded on the floor next to the still-open door.

Oh no you don’t!

He came to an instant decision.

Grabbing the additional weapon, Joe leaped to his feet and staggered toward the hatch. For a moment, he considered simply running and shutting it behind him on the way out.

Leave no one behind . . . or nothing!
Instead, he put his back to it and heaved. With infuriating slowness, the door swung to and slammed shut. The reassuring sound of a vacuum seal engaging sighed above the ruckus.

Satisfied, Joe took a deep breath and turned to face his death. He flipped the switch on both guns to full automatic.

“What are you fuckers waiting for,” he teased, “an invitation?”

With a final howl of rage, the wall of monsters collapsed on him, and a blistering hail of bullets met their charge.

Author Bio~

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.



An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe), and also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.



​When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

You can find Andrew at:

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

You can buy EXORDIUM OF TEARS at:

Amazon | Amazon UK

Giveaway ~

Soldiers from varying eras and vastly different backgrounds, including the IX Legion of Rome, are snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing, and transported to the far side of the galaxy. Thinking they have been granted a reprieve, their relief turns to horror when they discover they face a stark ultimatum:


Fight or die.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

DOUBLE TROUBLE ~ Double the Fun from Darcy Flynn!

The tagline gets us started off on the right foot. All's fair in love and getting even! Here's DOUBLE TROUBLE from Darcy Flynn...

BLURB ~

From the first moment coffee mogul, Will Carrington, gazed into the fiery, green eyes of Clare Sullivan, he’s hit with the feeling she does not like him. Not. One. Little. Bit. Used to being the proverbial prize by some gorgeous gold digging fortune hunter, he’s learned to be careful. But with his hunter instincts now on high alert, he’s determined to find out the why behind her stormy-eyed glances.



Top home designer, Clare Sullivan wants absolutely nothing to do with arrogant, self-assured Will Carrington, especially after he called her half-sister a gold digger. When she gets the opportunity to design his multi-million dollar Miami penthouse, she arrives at his office ready to decline his offer, and to tell him exactly what she thinks of his cruel and un-warranted comments.



While there, she overhears his one-sided phone conversation, which seems to further insult her sister. Assuming the worse, Clare makes the rash decision to accept the job and charge him a fortune in the process. Someone needs to teach him a lesson and what better way then with a swift kick in his wallet.



Since she and her sister have different surnames, Clare conveniently hides the connection to her sister. But while she works with Will, she discovers another side to this self-assured, woman-hater. A Jekyll to his Hyde. Charming and professional, he’s nothing like the man she’s heard about. What she doesn’t know is Will Carrington has a few secrets of his own.

EXCERPT ~



Clare leaned against the white painted railing and soaked up the view. The Gulf waters spanned in front of them for miles, its waves beckoned as it broke against the shoreline. “Why would you ever want to leave this for the penthouse? You’ve got the sand at your feet and the ocean just yards away.”

“Who says I’m giving it up?”

“I just assumed...”

“That, Miss Sullivan, is your trouble.”

“Excuse me?”

He took her hand and led her to the end of the porch, then faced her. “You assume way too much.” He gently pulled her into his arms. “About me, anyway.”

Heart thudding, she gazed up at him. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

In business, Clare had one hard and fast rule—never get involved with a client. As tempting as he was, she made a half-hearted attempt to pull away.

“No. Wait. Don’t think.” He gently tapped her chin. Her eyes locked with his mesmerizing ones. Blue, like the ocean. Dancing with the light of the late afternoon sun. For a brief moment they roamed over her face, hungry, desiring, then he lowered his head.

AUTHOR BIO ~

Darcy Flynn is known for her heartwarming, sweet contemporary romances. Her refreshing storylines, irritatingly handsome heroes and feisty heroines will delight and entertain you from the first page to the last. Miss Flynn’s heroes and heroines have a tangible chemistry that is entertaining, humorous and competitive. 

Darcy lives with her husband, son, two English Setters and a menagerie of other living creatures on her horse farm in Franklin, Tennessee. She raises rare breed chickens, stargazes on warm summer nights and indulges daily in afternoon tea. 

Link to Pre-Order:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CIPKWJI?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

LINKS ~

Website/Blog: http://www.darcyflynnromances.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/darcyflynn

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/DarcyFlynnAuthor

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0077AG3ZM

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2975929.Darcy_Flynn

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/dflynnauthor/boards/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/116563609469381811624/posts?tab=XX

~ An Eggcellent #EggcerptExchange by Elaine Cantrell ~from FORTUNA! ~

I have another eggcellent eggcerpt for you all...

Blurb ~


Aimee Sherwood never dreamed that following her fiancé into the witness protection pro-gram would land her in a haunted house in a town that’s downright creepy. She’d have laughed if she had been told the guy who lives down the road might be her soul mate, not the man whose ring she’s wearing. Life in West Virginia is nothing like life in Los Angeles, but between bean ball battles with Marilyn Monroe, remodeling a crumbling farmhouse, and starting a new business, Aimee’s life is anything but dull.

Eggcerpt ~


Rocky and Aimee go to a church luncheon.

“What’s that?” Rocky asked.

Aimee took a look and saw something that reminded her of meatballs: blue, perfectly shaped meatballs. She giggled. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Both of them stopped snickering when a buxom blonde wearing a tight, flowered blouse approached with a frown on her face. Aimee gasped. This was the woman from the coffee shop at the funeral home.

The woman recognized her at the same time. “You!”

“Yeah, I recognize you too.” Aimee tried to instill the proper amount of disdain in her voice.

A second, older woman who looked somewhat like the blonde wandered over to the table to see what was going on. Fortified by the newcomer’s presence, the buxom blonde gestured wildly toward the table. “What are you doing to my bean balls?”

“Bean balls?”

“Yes, you were staring at my bean balls.”

Aimee giggled even though she tried not to. “I was just taking the lid off them. Honest.”

“Well, I don’t like the way you were looking at them. Don’t you know it’s better for you to eat healthy food?”

Aimee gritted her teeth, amusement gone. “I was looking at them because I had no idea what they were.”

She wondered if the blonde was about to have a stroke. Her face was that red. Actually, it matched her skirt pretty well, which, by the way, didn’t match her tight blouse.

The woman gave Aimee the evil eye. “You are a hateful, mean woman. I’m sorry I ever met you. First you misrepresented yourself at the coffee shop, and now you mock my bean balls.”

“I did not!”

Without warning the blonde jerked the plastic container away from Aimee. It scooted across the table and crashed into a gelatin salad, taking a corner off its molded perfection. The blue bean balls went everywhere, rolling around the table like marbles on steroids. ”Look what you’ve done,” the blonde wailed. “Nobody will want to eat them now.”

She snatched a bean ball and hurled it at Aimee, who ducked just in time. “You missed me,” she taunted. She had no sooner finished speaking before a second bean ball flew through the air. This one caught the shoulder of her new blouse.

The blonde laughed.

Aimee grabbed a bean ball from the table and threw it at the blonde. She hit the woman right in the chest. “Help me!” the blonde shrieked. “She hit me in the heart. Where’s the sheriff?”

From the corner of her eye, Aimee saw the priest hurrying their way. She fired one final bean ball, which hit the blonde’s forehead with a beany thud.

Rocky grabbed her arm. “They’re circling the wagons. Let’s get out of here.”

Practically running, they made their escape from the church. Rocky took the precaution of locking the truck doors. He sighed. “I guess we can’t come back to this church either. Are we going to become atheists?”

“Of course not!”

Sunk in gloom, they drove back to Fortuna. The jinx was still on as far as churches were concerned.

Links ~

http://www.amazon.com/Fortuna-Elaine-Cantrell-ebook/dp/B01B5P9EF0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1454292353&sr=1-1&keywords=fortuna+by+elaine+cantrell


http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fortuna-elaine-cantrell/1123328090?ean=2940157912277



https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/fortuna-12


http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/611196

Author Bio ~

Elaine Cantrell was born and raised in South Carolina. She holds a master’s degree in personnel services from Clemson University. She is a member of Alpha Delta Kappa, an international honorary society for women educators and is also a member of Romance Writers of America. Her first novel, A New Leaf, was the 2003 winner of the Timeless Love Contest. When she isn’t writing or teaching, she enjoys reading, traveling, and collecting vintage Christmas ornaments.

Author Links:

http://www.elainecantrell.com

http://www.elainepcantrell.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/elainepcantrell

http://www.twitter.com/elainecantrell

http://www.pinterest.com/elainecantrell

Character Interview: Aimee ~

Rhonda: Welcome to Updated History, a Viewer’s Choice TV program. My name is Rhonda Dalton, and my guest today is Aimee Sherwood. Aimee, welcome to the show. Could you introduce yourself to the viewers?


Aimee: Thank you, Rhonda. As you said, I’m Aimee Sherwood. I was born in Baltimore, but I spent the last couple of years in LA where I met LAWA wrestler Rocky Stone. Rocky bought some property in West Virginia, and that’s how I got here.


Rhonda: That’s lovely, Aimee. Why don’t you tell the viewers about your new business?


Aimee: I’d love to. My business is Internet based. I make authentic reproductions of 17th and 18th century clothing for both men and women. So many people in Centerville love history that I thought I’d help them get quality reproduction clothing for balls, reenactments, garden parties, and so on.


Rhonda: That sounds fascinating. I’m in need of a new costume myself. Was opening your own business your major life goal?


Aimee: No, I only recently thought of it. My main goal is to decide between two… Well, it’s kind of personal so I guess I’ll pass on this one.

Rhonda: That’s very mysterious. Can you tell us your greatest fear?


Aimee: (Laughs) I’m afraid I’ll do something stupid like that bean ball battle I had with Marilyn Monroe.


Rhonda: (laughs too) Yes, I’ve heard about that. I take it bean balls aren’t your favorite food.

Aimee: I’d rather have chocolate doughnuts or pork skins.


Rhonda: Yummy. One final question, if you won the lottery, what would you do with the money?

Aimee: That’s easy. I’d expand my business and help Rocky renovate Fortuna.


Rhonda: That’s wonderful, Aimee. Thanks for being here.

Aimee: Thanks for having me.

~ Another Great #EggcerptExchange by Linda Sienkiewicz ~ from IN THE CONTEXT OF LOVE ~

Author Linda K. Sienkiewicz writes women’s fiction/ contemporary romance. Her debut novel is In the Context of Love.

What makes us step back to examine the events and people that have shaped our lives? And what happens when what we discover leads to more questions? In the Context of Love revolves around the journey of Angelica Schirrick as she reevaluates her life, and its direction.

Returning with her children from their first visit with her now imprisoned husband, she tries to figure out where it all went so wrong. Can she face the failures and secrets of her past and move forward? Can she find love and purpose again? Her future, which once held so much promise, crumbled like dust after the mysterious disappearance of her first love, and the shattering revelation that derailed her life, and divided her parents. Only when she finally learns to accept the violence of her beginning can she be open to life again, and maybe to a second chance at love.

Jacquelyn Mitchard, author of #1 NY Times Bestseller, DEEP END OF THE OCEAN, says: “With humor and tenderness, but without blinking, Linda K. Sienkiewicz turns her eye on the predator-prey savannah of the young and still somehow hopeful.”

Bonnie Jo Campbell, author of Michigan Notable Book MOTHERS TELL YOUR DAUGHTERS, says “Sienkiewicz’s powerful and richly detailed debut novel is at once a love story, a cautionary tale, and an inspirational journey. It should be required reading for all wayward daughters, and their mothers, too.”

Eggcerpt ~

I would later learn Gavin cut his teeth on the white lines of the highway—his father was in the service and his family moved every two years when Gavin and his brothers were growing up. I remember long road trips with my parents to Florida, Myrtle Beach, and New York when it seemed as if we drove forever, and half of it was just to get out of flat, boring Ohio. Whenever I would sit up from sleeping on the backseat, thickheaded from motion sickness, cramped and thirsty, the view was the same—barns, corn, and cows through smeared bugs on the front windshield. Mom would be in the front seat, grappling with a crumpled map while Dad hummed. I didn’t get carsick when Gavin drove forty-five miles from Cuyahoga County to Erie on I-90, following the contour of the lake in his black Cadillac Seville. His driving was as sleek as his seduction. He obviously held his liquor well, not necessarily a good sign.

It was after midnight when he parked his car in front of a cluster of – rattrap apartments. “Rock the boat,” he sang as he walked me to the front door with his hands on my back, guiding me forward, “Rock the boat, baby.”

I leaned against him as he unlocked the door, and we both fell inside. His place was sparse—a cheap couch, a card table covered with paperwork, folding chairs, a standing lamp, half-melted candles along the window ledge. A small TV on a two-shelf bookstand. Pull-down shades. No curtains. No pictures on the wall. I didn’t think his lack of décor meant anything more than he was a man of simple needs. His king size bed was unmade, and there was no dresser, but he had more stuff than I’d ever seen before in a man’s bathroom.



We didn’t get to sleep until 3:00 a.m., and when I awakened, Gavin Schirrick was stepping out of his trousers, already back from his job. He crawled over me, pressed his mouth onto mine, and re-intoxicated me before we lapsed into heavy sleep.



I was content. I felt safe. I was not.

Links ~

In the Context of Love can be purchased in paperback or e-reader on Amazon http://amzn.to/1IiVWEs or Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/1QFs340

Here’s an interview with Angelica Schirrick, the narrator of In the Context of Love:

What is your birthdate?

I came screaming into this world on June 30, 1958, delivered by a midwife, Rose Rumble, at my great aunt’s farm in Wisconsin.

Do you have a nickname?

People have called me troublemaker, short stuff, hot stuff, cupcake (by my dad) Angel, hure (by my wicked German grandmother — don’t ask why), but most people call me Angie.


What’s your level of schooling?

I should say the School of Hard Knocks, but I have an associate’s degree.

What is your most important goal?

To see my two children grow up to be happy and well-adjusted, despite having a felon for a father.

Who is your significant other?

That would Jozsef Vadas, the Hungarian heartthrob, the gypsy kind, the boy I fell in love with in high school. He will forever be my one and only.

Author Bio ~

Author Linda K. Sienkiewicz attributes her creative drive to her artistic mother, who taught her to sew, and her father, who let her monkey around with the gadgets in his workshop. Her poetry, short stories and art have been published in more than fifty literary journals. She has a poetry chapbook award from Bottom Dog Press and an MFA from The University of Southern Maine.

Website http://lindaksienkiewicz.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/LindaKSienkwicz
Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/lindaksienkwicz/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lindaksienkiewicz/
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lindasienkiewicz.author

~ Another Eggcellent #EggcerptExchange by Mari Manning ~ from STRANGER AT MY DOOR ~

What a fantastic cover, huh? Let's hop right into this eggcerpt and find out what it is about!

Blurb ~

The only thing standing between Dinah Pittman and a murderer is a man she’s afraid to trust …

As far as Dinah Pittman is concerned, men can’t be trusted. Especially cops. Her own father was a cop and a convicted felon who stole a small fortune before dying in prison. The best part? No one knows where the money is…and someone is willing to kill off everyone who knows anything about it.

And Dinah is next.

Rafe Morales left the Dallas police force to settle down to a simpler life in the small Texas town of El Royo. Instead, he finds himself protecting an infuriating, tough-as-nails, oh-so-sexy victim—and driving himself crazy with a thoroughly unprofessional desire.

But as the body count rises, Rafe and Dinah must find a way to trust each other…before they both end up dead.

Eggcerpt ~

The front door rebounded and clipped Rafe’s shoulder. He kicked it closed with his boot before raking his flashlight beam across the unlit entryway. The hall was clear. His heart thumping against ribs, he burst into the living room. His light hit the figure of a woman, and his feet froze. He tilted the beam up and framed Dinah Pittman’s expressionless face.

Most girls would have screamed or hid when he kicked in the door. Not this one. She had balls, he’d give her that.

Her forearm lifted to shield her eyes from the light. “Who are you? What do you want?” She sounded tired. “I already told Teke, I don’t know where the money is.”

Rafe lowered the flashlight and rolled his shoulder to loosen a tight muscle. There were about two dozen abandoned bungalows in this part of town. When he saw a candle flickering in the window, he’d expected a confrontation with teenagers or maybe a squatter.

He stepped into the candlelight. “Officer Morales, ma’am. Got something against electricity?” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. The pink flyers. She’d needed money to turn on the lights.

Her mouth tightened. “Get out.” Turning to a small table by the window, she gathered up scattered cards, probably her tarot cards. Had she found customers already?

He studied her as he summoned up an appropriate apology. She wore cut-offs and a white T-shirt. His eyes swept down her slim legs to her bare feet and red toenails before he could stop himself. Why were pain-in-the-ass women always hot?

“I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“That’s tough to do with you around.”

Her hand stilled for a moment, then returned to its task. “You could have knocked.”

“Sometimes we get squatters in these abandoned houses. They’re more likely to be discouraged by a show of force.”

“I could have been a mass murderer. Aren’t you supposed to call for backup?” She glanced down at his flashlight. “If I was a bad guy with a gun, you’d be dead, Officer Morales.”

“Rafe.”

She’d read him right. He’d tried to pull out his service revolver when he broke down the door, but—predictably—his hand had turned to Jell-O. After two years, he still couldn’t get past the night in Dallas when his beautiful, daring Sam’s luck ran out, and he’d avenged her but failed to live up to his own lofty ideals. So he relied on the element of surprise and big fists.

Gathering up the cards, she set them in a neat stack. “As you can see, I am not a squatter.” Her gaze flickered to his flashlight, then back up to his face. “There’s an empty house about two blocks down if you’re determined to rescue one.”

The corner of his mouth inched up. She’d be a handful…for the right man, which sure as hell wasn’t him. Not anymore. “Thanks for the tip.”

Author Bio ~

Let’s start with the fun stuff. I love small towns, mysteries, quiet men, laughter, old-fashioned spaghetti dinners. I love boots and shopping and jokes and Hershey’s dark chocolate and white wine. I love lots of things. But my first love is reading.

I love to read. Just about anything, but it has to be well-written. I go through periods where I am into historical novels or romance or mystery or history or biography. I never know when my desires will suddenly change.

Now for the writer-ish, official stuff: Mari Manning is the author of several contemporary romances and three romantic suspense novels set in the Texas Hill Country. Stranger at My Door is the first in her A Murder in Teas series. The second, Stranger in My House will be published by Entangled later this year. The third book in the series is Stranger in My Bed. Currently Mari is working on a series of cozy mysteries.

She and her husband live in Chicago.

Interview ~

Dinah Pittman, heroine of Stranger at My Door

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in a small town in Texas. I’ll tell you the name, but it doesn’t matter since no one’s ever heard of it. It’s El Royo. For the first 17 years of my life, I loved it, then a crime destroyed my family, and I couldn’t get away fast enough.

When is your birthday?

I’m 25, so you do the math. I was born on November 1, and my mother, who believed in the stars, painted the night sky at it appeared the day I was born on the ceiling of my bedroom.

What would you do if you won the lottery?

Pay back the money my father stole.



Rafe Morales, hero of Stranger at My Door
Where did you grow up?
I grew up on Hacienda Osito, which means Little Bear Ranch in Spanish.


Worst fear or nightmare?

I’ve lived through my worst fear – I watched someone I love die before my eyes. Something broke in me that night. Most people call it my nerve. My mother swears it’s my alma, which means soul. Whatever it is, I hope it mends, but I don’t believe I will ever be whole again.

Links ~

You can buy STRANGER AT MY DOOR at:

http://www.entangledpublishing.com/stranger-at-my-door/

You can find Mari at: 

Contact Mari at manningillinois@gmail.com

Visit my website at www.marimanning.com

Follow me @mari_manning on Twitter