Cover Reveal: Sevyn by Renee Dyer

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Sevyn
Renee Dyer
Genre: Thriller/ Romantic
Suspense/
Dark Romance
Publisher: Forever Red Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-941853-39-9
Number of pages: 300
Cover Artist: Lee Ching from
Under Cover Designs
Tagline: When life hands you
impossible choices, can you become the man you want to be?
Book Description:
Born into rival drug cartels,
KevynZozlov and his best friend Esperanza Torres defy the odds, finding
laughter in a world full of pain. Ripped away from her at a young age, Kevyn
has to learn the difference between family, loyalty, and obedience. Fear keeps
him focused each day. Memories fill his dreams at night.
Torn between the death he sees
daily and what he believes is right, he struggles to decide the kind of man he
wants to be—until a promise he makes to his mother, the person he loves more
than anyone, changes everything.
“Get out of here and find
Esperanza. Promise me.”
Now, Kevyn has to figure out how
to make his way to the only friend he ever had—the one person who understands
his damaged world. Will she welcome him back with open arms, or turn him away,
leaving him more lost than he already is?
With time against him, can he
find Esperanza and his happiness, or will he be another casualty of the drug
war, buried in an unmarked grave with no one to mourn his loss?
About
the Author:
From a young Renee Dyer had a
love of writing, starting with a doodle pad at age four that morphed into
journals.  Poetry became short stories
and short stories a novel.  Although
she’s surrounded by males all day having three sons, a husband, and a
hyperactive chocolate lab, she still finds time to be herself by escaping into
the fantasy of reading and writing romance.
That is, until she needs a male’s perspective and garners eye rolling from
her husband at all of her questions.
Renee is a true New Englander.
You can find her screaming profanity at the TV while the Pats play and
cuddling under blankets during the cold seasons (which is most of them),
reading a good book.  She doesn’t believe
snow is a reason to shut things down, only to slow down and admire the
beauty.  Ask her anything.  She’s an open book—pun fully intended.
Facebook Author Page
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Fire & Ice by Braden Quinn

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Fire and Ice

Braden Quinn
Genre: Erotica
Publisher: Beyond the Moon Press
Date of Publication: April 1 2017
ASIN: B06XJR9M4T
Word Count: 16,000
Cover Artist: The Cover Collection
Tagline: Nothing is off limits
Book Description:
Ice by day and fire by night, that’s how I roll. In a crazy existence that’s driven by excessive amounts of money, hot women, and insatiable sexual thirst, I live the life of a rock star. This diary chronicles nine sexual encounters that would have never happened if I wasn’t one of the most well-known players in the best hockey league in the world.
My name is Braden Quinn, and I play for the New York Rangers. So, sit back, and enjoy my erotic memoir.
Excerpt:
 All I really want is a drink—a cold, freshly
opened bottle of Stella, the bubbles rising to the top and into my parched
mouth. As I wait for the bartender, across the room, I glimpse hints of pink
lace as she bends down to retrieve her glass from the floor. When she stands
back up, her micro-mini black dress barely covering the pert curves of her
backside, her baby-blue eyes meet mine, and she grins knowingly. She locks in
my attention as she walks over in her five-inch heels, keeping to the beat of
theWeeknd track pumping from the DJ booth. I am spellbound. I don’t know her
name or where she’s from. I hope she’s of age—even just barely will do.

 

As she gets
nearer, her smile fades, and she looks to my left. I wonder if I misread the
signals and if she was actually smiling at someone else. But then she stops
just in front of me and turns around. I have no idea what’s going on,
especially when I feel her soft hand touch mine. She runs her deliciously sharp
nails up and down my hand, sending a tickle of excitement through me. I cup her
hand, and she entwines her fingers through mine. I want—need—to feel her back
against me to comfort my throbbing cock. I grab hold of her waist, her hand
still in mine, and firmly pull her closer to me. As her butt presses like a
cushion against me, she grinds a little, the top of her head tickling my chin.
Then, taking me by surprise, she forcefully glides my unresisting hand down
from the small of her lower back—where her straight, shimmering chestnut hair
ends in wisps of loose waves—to her exposed smooth thigh. I forget my need for
beer.
 
About the Author:
Braden Quinn is a Canadian professional ice hockey player who lives in New York City.

 

The Sun God’s Heir (Return #1) by Elliot Baker

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The Sun God’s Heir: Return
The Sun God’s Heir
Book One
Elliott Baker        
Genre: Historical Fantasy/Action and Adventure
Publisher: Hypatia Press,
Piscataqua Press
Date of Publication: January 18, 2017
ISBN: 978-0-9978322-0-4
ASIN: B01MS3RCE0
Number of pages: 347
Word Count: 108,000
Cover Artist: Kelly Shorten
Tagline: To defeat a brutal pharaoh re-embodied in 17th century France, René Gilbert must fight his way through pirates and slavers to Morocco and reclaim the power of his own ancient past. To succeed, he must remember.



Book Description:

For three thousand years a hatred burns -In seventeenth century France two souls incarnate, one born the child of a prosperous merchant, the other, determined to continue a brutal incarnation begun long ago.
In ancient Egypt two brothers are disciples of the pharaoh, Akhenaten. When Pharaoh dies, the physician takes the knowledge given and goes to Greece to begin a new mystery school. The general makes a deal with the priests and becomes pharaoh. One remembers, one does not.
The year is 1671. René Gilbert’s destiny glints from the blade of a slashing rapier. The only way he can protect those he loves is to regain the power and knowledge of an ancient lifetime. From Bordeaux to Spain to Morocco, René is tested and with each turn of fate he gathers enemies and allies, slowly reclaiming the knowledge and power earned centuries ago. For three thousand years a secret sect has waited in Morocco. 
After ages in darkness, Horemheb screams, “I am.” Using every dark art, he manages to maintain the life of the body he has bartered for. Only one life force in the world is powerful enough to allow him to remain within embodiment, perhaps forever. Determined to continue a reign of terror that once made the Nile run red, he grows stronger with each life taken.
Get it Free April 19th from these links:
Excerpt:
The boatswain, a
large man with scars on his arms and face, walked over to stand in front of
René. “Chain him to the mast.”
Their gazes met.
“Don’t look at
me, boy,” he said, backhanding René in the face. “Look down at the deck when I
talk to you. You’re some over-fed nobleman’s kid thinkin’ you make the rules.
I’m surprised you ain’tcryin’ for your mama. You got a mama, boy?” he asked
and laughed. When René didn’t answer, he hit him again. “I asked you a
question, boy. Don’t try my patience, cause I ain’t got none.”
“My mother died
when I was born,” René said, watching the man’s feet to see how he moved. He
was cataloging everything he could see out of the corners of his eyes.
“Well, not to
worry, you’ll be seeing her soon.” The boatswain turned to walk away and then
turned back and hit René again. “I had to do that,” he said, and walked away
laughing.
Though they had
chained him in a way that didn’t allow him to sit, René had enough slack to
turn and see most of the ship. He was aboard an English slave ship. She was an
older carrack in design, still with the large forecastle. She had seen better
days, though. The fact that she was still on the seas suggested either a
cutthroat reputation or an experienced captain. Under the wear, the ship was
surprisingly clean, her ropes and sails newly repaired and in good order.
Second rate though she might be, she was seaworthy. This was a veteran crew,
competent in their tasks. It wouldn’t be easy getting free, and even if he
could, where would he escape to in the middle of  the ocean? Don’t rush fate. One thing at a
time. Do what you can do, he heard the Maestro say. It was clear he would have
to pick a fight, and hope he could survive long enough to begin creating
allies. The next time the big boatswain walked by, René laughed.
“What are you
findin’ so funny, boy?” The boatswain stuck his face within inches of René’s.
René had noticed
the boatswain had one leg shorter than the other, and was certain the big man
would be touchy on that point. “You walk funny, that’s all,” said René, raising
his voice. It was of no use to him if he got beat up and no one knew why.
All work within
the sound of René’s voice crashed to a complete stop. Silence reigned. René had
guessed right. Now he could only hope he would survive his insight.
The boatswain
stood in absolute disbelief, his face turning redder by the moment. “What did
you say?” Spittle flew from his mouth.
Even the captain
had turned to watch. René counted on the fact Gaspard’s agent had given the
captain a great deal of money, along with explicit instructions that didn’t
include throwing a dead boy overboard. What he didn’t know was how close to
dead the agent considered acceptable.
“I said you walk
funny,” René said—louder this time, so there would be no mistaking it.
“Do you know
what a cat is, boy?” the boatswain said, clearly beyond rational thought. René
could see the veins standing out in his neck and temples, his eyes shot red
with blood.
“A small
animal?” René asked.
There was a
laugh from the men standing around the mast. The boatswain took one look
around, and the laugh died.
“You, James,
bring me the cat. I don’t think this boy has ever seen a real one. Your
education has been sadly incomplete, boy. You’ll be thankin’ me for this. I
promise you.” The boatswain’s voice was a rough whisper.
James walked
over and handed the Cat-O-Nine-Tails to the boatswain. As he caught René’s eye,
he sadly shook his head. The cat had nine long thongs of blood-encrusted
leather dangling from a handle, knots tied along the length of each thong.
“This here’s a
cat, boy. As you can see, it ain’tno small animal. Now, there’s a skill and a
talent to usin’ a cat, both of which I’m proud to say I have. You see, you need
to take care the thongs don’t get all stuck together with blood and skin, which
they’re wont to do. If that happens, the cat’ll take yer organs right out, and
that’s always a bad thing. So you need to run your fingers between the thongs
every couple of strokes, to keep ‘em separate. I gotta tell you—as much pride
as I take in usin’ the cat, sometimes I’m forgetful. I try to keep count, but
before I know it, I plumb forget to clean the damn thing. I surely hope that
don’t happen today.”
“I also have a
skill and a talent, and I will kill you with it,” René said quietly.

 

For one second,
the boatswain paused, confusion written across his face. “Turn him around, and
chain him up. You there, strip off his shirt.”
About the Author:
Award winning novelist and international playwright Elliott Baker grew up in Jacksonville, Florida. With four musicals and one play published and produced in the United States, New Zealand, Portugal, England, and Canada, Elliott is pleased to release his first novels. The Sun God’s Heir: Return, book one of the trilogy, was released this past January, and book two, Rebirth will come out in April, followed in July by the third and final book of the series, Redemption. A member of the Authors Guild and the Dramatists Guild, Elliott lives in New Hampshire with his wife Sally Ann.
@elliottbaker on Twitter

Fire & Ice by Braden Quinn

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Fire and Ice

Braden Quinn
Genre: Erotica
Publisher: Beyond the Moon Press
Date of Publication: April 1 2017
ASIN: B06XJR9M4T
Word Count: 16,000
Cover Artist: The Cover Collection
Tagline: Nothing is off limits
Book Description:
Ice by day and fire by night, that’s how I roll. In a crazy existence that’s driven by excessive amounts of money, hot women, and insatiable sexual thirst, I live the life of a rock star. This diary chronicles nine sexual encounters that would have never happened if I wasn’t one of the most well-known players in the best hockey league in the world.
My name is Braden Quinn, and I play for the New York Rangers. So, sit back, and enjoy my erotic memoir.
Excerpt:
 All I really want is a drink—a cold, freshly
opened bottle of Stella, the bubbles rising to the top and into my parched
mouth. As I wait for the bartender, across the room, I glimpse hints of pink
lace as she bends down to retrieve her glass from the floor. When she stands
back up, her micro-mini black dress barely covering the pert curves of her
backside, her baby-blue eyes meet mine, and she grins knowingly. She locks in
my attention as she walks over in her five-inch heels, keeping to the beat of
theWeeknd track pumping from the DJ booth. I am spellbound. I don’t know her
name or where she’s from. I hope she’s of age—even just barely will do.

 

As she gets
nearer, her smile fades, and she looks to my left. I wonder if I misread the
signals and if she was actually smiling at someone else. But then she stops
just in front of me and turns around. I have no idea what’s going on,
especially when I feel her soft hand touch mine. She runs her deliciously sharp
nails up and down my hand, sending a tickle of excitement through me. I cup her
hand, and she entwines her fingers through mine. I want—need—to feel her back
against me to comfort my throbbing cock. I grab hold of her waist, her hand
still in mine, and firmly pull her closer to me. As her butt presses like a
cushion against me, she grinds a little, the top of her head tickling my chin.
Then, taking me by surprise, she forcefully glides my unresisting hand down
from the small of her lower back—where her straight, shimmering chestnut hair
ends in wisps of loose waves—to her exposed smooth thigh. I forget my need for
beer.
 
About the Author:
Braden Quinn is a Canadian professional ice hockey player who lives in New York City.

 

Cover Reveal: Fat Girl Begone by D.E. Haggerty

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Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance
Date Published: May 1, 2017
34683994
I’m a total mess. My boyfriend dumped me – get this – because I diet too much. Not because I’m fat, mind you. Of course, this spurs me into the diet-fitness-revenge-plan of the century, which leads me to the gym and a scorching hot personal trainer. I even manage to make some cool new friends, including a millionaire if you can believe it. Things are looking up! Naturally, that’s the moment my ex decides he wants me back, the personal trainer asks me out, and my millionaire male buddy decides to throw his hat in the ring. But that’s not enough drama. No, not for me. Because I’ve also lost my job and decided to start my own business. Just call me Ms. Drama.
Warning: Bad language, bumpy roads, and embarrassing moments ahead. But there’s also more than a bit of romance and even, if we’re lucky, love. Fingers crossed.
 
Not endorsed by or affiliated with any brand of tequila. 
 
Excerpt
“Am I dressed okay for whatever we’re going to do?”
Carter chuckles. “You look beautiful as usual.” He reaches over and pinches my chin. “You’re going to have to wait a little longer to find out what we’re doing today.”
I stick out my lower lip, and Carter bursts into laughter. He’s wearing another Star Wars t-shirt. This one with the words Who’s Your Daddy printed under a picture of Darth Vader. He looks like a twenty-year-old college student instead of a millionaire business owner.
“How old are?” I blurt out.
He sobers immediately. “Does it matter?”
“Since I’m not a MILF and would be labeled a cradle robber, yeah, it matters.”
Carter grabs my coffee and places it on the little table in the entryway before crowding me. I move backwards until I hit the wall. He places his hands next to my head, totally enclosing me. “Who says you’re not a MILF?” His lips are on mine before I can respond. His tongue demands entrance and who am I to deny him? I grasp his t-shirt between my fists and pull him even closer. One of his hands grabs my ponytail while the other one travels down my back until he reaches the top of my ass and he pulls me flush against his hard body.
“Not a MILF, my ass.” He slowly releases me, and I collapse against the wall trying to catch my breath. “I’m thirty-three. Old enough for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Come on, let’s go.” He grabs my hand with one hand and my coffee with the other before pulling me out of the hallway.
I’m buckled up in his fancy schamncy sports car before I manage to catch my breath. I take sips of my coffee to calm myself down because that kiss… Well, let’s just say the boy can kiss. “I’m technically not a MILF because I’m not a mother.”
Carter chuckles. “Beautiful and cute.”
 
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Cover Reveal: Fiskur (Gemeta Stone #2) by Donna Migliaccio

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Fiskur
The Gemeta Stone
Book 2
Donna Migliaccio
Release Date: November 2017
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Fiery Seas
Book
Description:
With his family’s talisman in his
possession, KristanGemeta is ready to face the WichelordDaazna – but he has
no inkling of the scope of Daazna’s power, nor the depths of his hatred.    
With the recovery of his family’s
protective talisman, KristanGemeta has found hope, courage – and perhaps even
the first stirrings of love.  With the
aid of Heather Demitt, her band of rebels, a shipload of Northern brigands and
the legendary Kentavron, he readies himself to face the WichelordDaazna.  But neither he nor his comrades realize the
strength of Daazna’s power and hatred.
The Wichelord’s first blow comes from a direction Kristan least expects,
with horrific, lasting consequences.

About the Author:

Donna
Migliaccio is a professional stage actress with credits that include Broadway,
National Tours and prominent regional theatres.
She is based in the Washington, DC Metro area, where she co-founded Tony
award-winning Signature Theatre and is in demand as an entertainer, teacher and
public speaker.  Her award-winning short
story, “Yaa and The Coffins,” was featured in Thinkerbeat’s 2015
anthology The Art of Losing. 

Beneath the Night (Cities Below #3) by Jen Colly

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Beneath the Night
The Cities Below
Book Three
Jen Colly
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington/Lyrical
Date of Publication:  April 18, 2017
ISBN: 9781516101481
ASIN: B01JEJDHFM
Number of pages: 200
Word Count: 71,000
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Tagline: Sometimes survival means surrendering everything . . .
Book Description:
Lord Navarre Casteel wakes from a long sleep to find the vampire city he rules forever changed and his future in the hands of a mysterious beauty who offers her life for his. Fiery-haired Cat survives his feeding, fueling Navarre’s body and mind-as well as his suspicion that she is one of the Forbidden-a lethal mix of vampire and human blood. Yet that doesn’t stop the throb of Navarre’s desire, the feeling that she is destined to be his mate, to hell with consequences. . . .
A solitary fighter sworn to protect the children in her charge, Cat never expects to feel so much for Navarre in the face of his savage feeding. Which is why his offer of protection is nearly her undoing. For how can she let down her guard when she has always walked alone? But Cat has never faced an enemy like the one she faces now, never felt such a powerful need to surrender to the force of love . . .
Amazon    iTunes     GoogleBooks    Kobo    BN
Excerpt:
This was the
royal storage, and the Guardians would be here any moment. Treasures from all
over Europe had been covered, hidden from view, while others lay exposed,
collecting layers of dust. A gold, jewel-encrusted urn half the size of a man
glinted in the dim light seeping from beneath the door. A golden yellow chaise
in Greek styling was half hidden beneath a sheet, the craftsmanship elaborate.
Yes, Savard grew nervous when Guardians were scheduled to enter this room, but
theft was not his fear, nor was the handling of such priceless artifacts.
He’d have given
his life to protect what was beyond the row of five large French curio cabinets
in the corner of the attic. Savard slipped into Spirit long enough to move
through a curio, and once inside the makeshift seclusion, returned to his true
form. Here, easily hidden behind the towering cabinets, was the most priceless
treasure in Balinese.
Navarre Casteel,
the true lord of Balinese, lay motionless on a small bed, trapped in a deep
healing sleep. Not waking, not dying.
Navarre had
fallen in the demon attack nearly seven years ago. A demon’s blade had pierced
his chest, and from what they could tell, nicked his heart. Navarre had slipped
into a healing sleep, his body shutting down to repair from the inside out.
After that point, nothing could be done to help him. Their lord would have to
heal on his own, or not at all.
Every day since,
Savard expected his lord’s death, even planned for the loss. It never happened.
Months had passed. Years. Seven years of total stillness.
The padlock
outside the door rattled, the heavy hinge laid back against the door. Then the
large wooden slide latch was moved, wood scraping wood, until the handle hit
the end of its range with a solid thud.
Savard knelt
beside the bed and took his lord’s lifeless hand in both of his, ready to
weather the brief intrusion, prepared to Spirit Navarre away should it become
necessary.
The hinges on
the thick door creaked as it opened. The Guardians stepped inside, flipped on
the lights. Boots scuffed the uneven floorboards beneath their feet, and long,
purposeful strides quickly carried them deeper inside the room.
“There it is,”
Dyre said, his young, smooth voice trapped in the low ceiling of the attic. “It
doesn’t appear heavy, only awkward.”
“Why are we
putting an empty birdcage outside the dining hall?” Cat said, suspicion
bleeding through her tone.
The presence of
these two was unexpected. As arena Guardians, Titus and Graydon often drew the
short straw, being sent on random missions that sometimes involved moving
furniture. Not today. Somehow Dyre and Cat had taken their place.
“Don’t ask, just
do,” Dyre said.
“Ugh.” She
exaggerated the guttural sound. “I hate your motto. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not my
motto,” Dyre said, the effort of sliding wooden furniture across the floor
temporarily halting his speech. “And you seem to like it just fine when you’re
the one barking orders.”
“Fair enough,”
she said, relenting.
Savard smiled
slightly, shaking his head. In public those two barely spoke a word to each
other, and after the parade of Guardian partners Cat had gone through, he never
would have thought Dyre would be the one she’d accept. But then, Dyre was one
of the few able to bring her unpredictable temper down to at least a simmer.
“Here, take this
end,” Dyre directed. “I’ll go down the stairs backward.”
“You think I
can’t go backward?” Cat snapped at him, instantly geared up for a fight,
offended her partner might find her lacking.
“No,” he said
calmly, his tone hinting at simple honesty. “I think you’re short.”
If Cat gave him
a response, Savard didn’t hear it. Boots scuffled across the floor, the lights
went out and the door closed, the bolt slid home, and the padlock clunked into
place. The room was left in silence once again. Savard peeked through a crack
between the dressers to make certain they’d left.
Turning
Navarre’s hand over, Savard pressed his fingertips to his lord’s exposed inner
wrist. As he did with each visit, Savard searched for a pulse, craved
confirmation that Navarre still lived. Beneath his fingers, the normally slow,
lurching rhythm of Navarre’s pulse seemed to have sped up. Not rapid or racing,
but simply stronger. This could be his body’s last surge of energy before
death. Savard looked at Navarre’s face, fearing it might be the last time.
Navarre, still
deep in a healing sleep, turned his face slightly toward the door. He wasn’t
dying. He was waking.
“Oh, God. It’s
her.” Jaw slack, Savard sank back onto his heels.
He shoved his
hair off his face. How had he not seen this connection? When Cat had first
arrived on the night of the attack, he hadn’t known what to do with her. He’d
put her in one of Navarre’s extra homes. That home was on the floor beneath
this attic, not terribly far from where Navarre lay sleeping.
Most vampires
could recognize the beckoning call of their fated mate. Supposedly, though he’d
never seen it happen, the presence of your mate could even negate the deadly
call of the sun. Her proximity was most likely the only reason Navarre still
clung to life. Cat must be his mate. If so, then she was the key to Navarre’s
awakening. Ironically, her continued presence in the city was contingent upon
Navarre allowing her to stay once he woke.
Plans quickly
took form now that Savard at long last had a clear solution. If Navarre’s
condition was going to change, it would happen tonight. He would make it happen
tonight.

 

While this new
development should bring elation, Savard’s skin crawled with a morbid
anticipation. Something unstoppable was happening in the world around him, a
life-altering force headed his way. He’d felt this same unease the night he’d
become lord, an awareness that he balanced at the top of a mountain and would
soon fall. He just didn’t know in which direction.
 
About the Author:
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series: The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires.
She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.

 

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The New BookExpoAmerica Immigration… er, Vetting Process- yeah, That’s What I Meant

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With this year’s BEA returning to New York- where it should stay- I went to the site to secure my place in these three days of literary nirvana.  My euphoria was short lived when I ran into what can only be described as applying for papers to enter East Germany.

Registration used to be like going to any other convention: type in your info, make your payment, get your conformation number and see ya at the show.  Now I know there’s been issues in the past of knuckleheads and lowlifes using the BEA to load up on freebies and pawn them off on eBay and all, so I’ve no problem with them taking steps to curb that bullshit.  I get it.  But…

 

Dafuq, y’all?

Who came up with this shit- Homeland Security?!?  My first thought upon seeing all this was “…but I already live in the US!!!”  I work in the Security field and I’ve had less stringent job applications than this!

So now I’m actually sitting here crafting responses to this nonsense, because it’s already to the point of morbid curiousity just to see if I get clearance… I mean, approved- nah, fuck it- clearance!- to attend the damn thing.

Unbelievable.

The New BookExpoAmerica Immigrat… er, Vetting Process- yeah, That’s What I Meant

With this year’s BEA returning to New York- where it should stay- I went to the site to secure my place in these three days of literary nirvana.  My euphoria was short lived when I ran into what can only be described as applying for papers to enter East Germany. Now I know there’s been issues in the past of knuckleheads and lowlifes using the BEA to load up on freebies and pawn them off on eBay and all, so I’ve no problem with them taking steps to curb that bullshit.  I get it.  But…

 

 

Dafuq, y’all? 

 

Who came up with this shit- Homeland Security?!?  My first thought upon seeing all this was “but I already live in the US!!!”  I work in the Security fieldand I’ve had less stringent job applications than this! 

 

So now I’m actually sitting her crafting responses to this nonsense, because it’s already to the point of morbid curiousity just to see if I get clearance… I mean, approved- nah, fuck it- clearance!- to attend the damn thing. 

 

Unbelievable.

Original post:
GreyWarden.booklikes.com/post/1553805/the-new-bookexpoamerica-immigrat-er-vetting-process-yeah-that-s-what-i-meant

Immortal Fire (Red Winter #3) by Annette Marie

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Immortal Fire
Annette Marie
(Red Winter Trilogy #3)
Publication date: April 11th 2017
Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

Once, Emi believed the heavenly gods were righteous and wise, while the earthly yokai spirits were bloodthirsty and evil. But with a traitorous deity poised to destroy her world, and the yokai standing as humanity’s only defense, the lies of her upbringing have toppled to reveal a far more terrifying reality.

Despite the looming threat, Emi can’t escape her greatest distraction: Shiro, the fox yokai who has so deftly claimed her heart for his own. Soon—too soon—she will have to break the curse that binds his magic and memories. And once the ancient power inside him awakens, the yokai she loves will be changed forever.

As the earthly gods gather to wage war against the heavens, Emi and Shiro must gamble everything to turn the tide against their immortal, all-powerful foes. Together, they will find a way to save her world—even if it means losing each other.

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Each book in the Red Winter Trilogy includes ten stunning illustrations by award-winning artist Brittany Jackson.

This is an exclusive preview of one illustration featured in Immortal Fire.

EXCERPT:

Violent shivers pulled Emi from the depths of sleep. The chill in the room cut right through the layers of blanket and kimono, and her toes ached from the cold. Curled in a tight ball beneath her blankets, she exhaled harshly, half expecting her breath to fog the air.

Beyond the thin partition that separated her sleeping quarters from the rest of the room, the windows rattled in a fierce wind. A winter storm? A feverish ache throbbed in her muscles, though she didn’t think she had slept for more than a few hours.

Yawning, she forced her tired body off the futon. Cold hit her like a splash of frigid water but even that wasn’t enough to dispel her drowsy daze. A short, fumbling search uncovered no extra blankets in the closet within her small alcove. Wrapping an arm around herself for warmth, she slid a panel open and peeked into the main room.

The remains of Shiro and Yumei’s late dinner had been cleared from the table, and the unlit brazier was devoid of light or warmth. Across the room, a second futon had been laid out near Shiro’s, and dark shapes filled both.

Trust the yokai to sleep right through the freezing cold. Behind their futons was a larger closet where bedding was stored. Surely there would be an extra blanket in there. She stumbled toward it in exhaustion. Her chest felt hollow and empty, and some of the chill that plagued her emanated from within.

As she crossed the room, an icy breeze rushed across her. Jerking back a step, she turned toward the sliding garden doors. A six-inch gap revealed the night-swathed garden beyond, where snow flew almost horizontally in the wind.

Why on earth had they left the door open? With a tired scowl, she yanked it shut. The room immediately felt warmer. Shaking her head, she stopped at the foot of Shiro’s futon, the light from the window glimmering on his white hair. Not that long ago, she had woken him from a nightmare, and he had thrown her into a wall before rousing enough to realize he was about to rip her throat out. Attempting to sneak between their futons to reach the closet was probably unwise.

“Shiro?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

He didn’t stir. Neither did Yumei, who slept on his back with his head turned away, his hair splayed untidily across his face in a way that was very unlike the usually reserved yokai. He rarely slept when anyone else was nearby, at least as far as she’d seen. Maybe her ki had tired him.

“Shiro?” she tried again more loudly.

When he again didn’t move, not even a twitch of his ears, a nervous prickle climbed her spine. Shiro

wasn’t that deep of a sleeper. And why hadn’t her clumsy banging of the garden door woken them? A spike of adrenaline cut through her drowsiness as she realized how unlikely it was that Shiro and

Yumei would go to sleep with a door ajar. Had the wind blown it open? Or … something else?

She scoured the room, but it was clearly empty. Biting the inside of her cheek, she stepped between the futons and crouched.

“Shiro,” she called. “Wake up!”

No reaction. Hoping he wouldn’t attack her, she touched his shoulder. He slept on, eyes closed, face slack. Her apprehension intensified into real fear.

“Shiro!” She gripped his shoulder and shook it, but he still didn’t wake or so much as stir. Was she dreaming? Was this a nightmare? She spun around and reached for Yumei.

“Yumei, wake up! Please wake up!” She shook him but he was as unresponsive as Shiro. In desperation, she hit his shoulder with her open palm, yelling his name. “What’s wrong with you? Wake up!”

As she turned, intending to grab a handful of snow from outside to shove in Shiro’s face, the air above him shimmered strangely. She went rigid, squinting into the darkness.

A shadow took form. A small body, thin limbs, ragged black hair. The ghostly child crouched on Shiro’s chest, her blank, bottomless stare fixed on Emi.

Her heart thudded in her ears. A kanashibari, the dream-weaving yokai that had been watching Emi in the bath. That was what she’d forgotten to warn Shiro about! And now it was sitting on him, and he wouldn’t wake up.

She lurched back to Yumei. A second kanashibari appeared before her, perched on his torso. The new one, another little girl with short, stringy hair and a pale kimono, looked up at Emi with empty black eyes.

The child’s lips pulled up in a rictal grin, and her tiny arm shot out.

Emi shoved the yokai away, but her hands passed right through the spectral body, feeling nothing but frosty air.

The yokai reached for her face and a small, frigid, solid palm pressed against her forehead. A wave of burning ice surged into Emi’s skull, blanketing her thoughts. Impossible, unyielding drowsiness crashed through her.

Before she could react, before she could even think about resisting, she collapsed on top of Yumei’s unconscious body and slid into darkness.

The complete trilogy:

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Author Bio:

Annette Marie is the author of the Amazon best-selling Steel & Stone series, which includes Goodreads Choice Award nominee Yield the Night, and fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast- paced urban fantasy and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it’s not quite that bad) with her comparatively sensible husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

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