Now or Never
A Pound of Flesh
by Alex Gray
on Tour November 6 - December 6, 2017
In the depths of a freezing winter, Glasgow finds itself at the mercy of not one, but two serial killers
This is Detective Inspector Lorimer’s worst nightmare and beyond anything he’s faced in his many years on the force. Can he find a link between the brutal slaying of prostitutes in the back streets of the city and the methodical killing of several unconnected businessmen?
When the latest victim turns out to be a prominent Scottish politician, the media’s spotlight is shone on Lorimer’s investigation. Psychologist and criminal profiler Solly Brightman is called in to help solve the cases, but his help may be futile as they realize that someone on the inside is leaking confidential police information. Meanwhile two killers haunt the snowy streets and Lorimer must act fast, before they strike again…
Read an excerpt:
Alex Gray was born and educated in Glasgow. After studying English and Philosophy at the University of Strathclyde, she worked as a visiting officer for the Department of Health, a time she looks upon as postgraduate education since it proved a rich source of character studies. She then trained as a secondary school teacher of English. Alex began writing professionally in 1993 and had immediate success with short stories, articles, and commissions for BBC radio programs. She has been awarded the Scottish Association of Writers’ Constable and Pitlochry trophies for her crime writing. A regular on the Scottish bestseller lists, she is the author of fourteen DCI Lorimer novels. She is the co-founder of the international Scottish crime writing festival, Bloody Scotland, which had its inaugural year in 2012.
Tour Participants:Visit the other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Alex Gray and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winner of one (1) eBook copy of Alex Gray's SLEEP LIKE THE DEAD. The giveaway begins on November 6 and runs through December 10, 2017.a Rafflecopter giveaway
Fair Cyprians of London By Beverley OakleyTwo years ago, she missed their secret assignation and disappeared without a trace. Now the divine "Miss Hope" is in Felix Durham’s bed - a 'surprise cheering-up gift' sourced by his friends from London's most exclusive brothel. Felix is in heaven - and he wants to stay there. So does Hope, but she can’t. Hope Merriweather lives by a code of honour – even if she’s a prostitute. Having sold her soul, she’s prepared to sacrifice everything else to protect what she believes in. Even if honour – in her eyes – comes at the cost of thieving and breaking hearts. Including her own.
Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.
About the Book:
Available for preorder here:
Excerpt:Chapter One Wilfred Hunt. If there was a name to tip Hope into the abyss of despair she was hearing it spill from Madame Chambon’s lips now as the older woman directed Hope to take a seat in the reception room, presumably so Madame could loom oppressively over her. With her hands on her ample, expensively padded hips, Hope’s benefactress—procuress, employer and gaoler were other monikers—sent Hope a beetling look that needed no interpreting: Regardless of Hope’s true feelings, Hope must project the required show of warmth and delight at being the chosen one. Madame patted the side of her faux curls. Years of hot irons had reduced her hair to the texture of wool but her crowning glory these days was supplemented by the lustrous locks of those girls who dared cross her – before they were thrown back into the street from where most had come. Nevertheless, Hope had to make her resistance clear. Surely Madame who knew her history would understand her loathing for this man, above all others. “I shan’t do it,” she whispered. There was little evidence of the willful child and wild adolescent who’d been the despair of her family. “I won’t—” Outside, the noise of the traffic rumbling over the cobbles and the shrill calls of competing vendors settled upon the tense silence. Madame Chambon’s other girls, ranged around the sumptuously appointed room on red velvet upholstered banquettes, watched the exchange with prurient fascination. Hope knew it had been a calculated ploy of Madame’s to conduct her interview in public so that Hope would serve as an example to them. No one crossed Madame Chambon. The shrill cry of a fishmonger caused Madame to look pointedly out of the window. With something between a smile and a sneer, she smoothed a Marcel wave. “Is that where you plan to return, Hope? The gutter?” Her nose twitched and in the sunlight that filtered into the room, the grooves chiselled between mouth and chin were thrown into harsh relief, highlighted rather than hidden by the thick powder she used to conceal her age. Madame Chambon’s comfort, now and into retirement, depended on obedient girls. Hope knew that as well as anyone. She’d had to bury her rebellious streak just to ensure food in her belly. The Frenchwoman raised a chiselled brow and began to pace slowly in front of her girls. A painter with an eye for beauty would have been ecstatic at capturing such a spectacle on canvas. The discerning young man about town who visited 56 Albemarle Street was frequently rendered ecstatic by the range of delights Madame Chambon's girls offered in addition to the visual. “You forget yourself, Hope. I put a roof over your head and deck you out as handsomely as Mr Charles Worth ever did for his most discerning customer.” There was acid in Madame Chambon’s tone. “But for me, you'd be starving and glad of the pennies you could trade for a grubby stand-up encounter in a dark alley.” Madame Chambon thrust out her bosom and breathed through her nose, her response a calculated warning to the other girls arranged in various languid poses about the ornately decorated reception room that intransigence would not be tolerated. “Mr Hunt has requested you.” She paused and when Hope remained silent, though her stance and expression left no one in any doubt as to her horror regarding this enforced assignation, went on. “Remember what I told you—what I tell all my girls when they first come here? The past must be forgotten the moment you step over my threshold. You are reborn, remodelled, refashioned into the most exquisite delectation of womanhood. A marquess, a prince, is well recompensed for the tidy sum he hands over in order to enjoy your sparkling wit, to converse with you in French, or if he chooses, on philosophy…to enjoy your charms…and,” she added significantly, “your gracious hospitality and tender ministrations to his needs. That is our agreement and you are no different. If Mr Hunt wishes you, Hope, to attend him at his residence then you will go.” Faith, one of the kinder girls, patted Hope’s arm in silent solidarity. Hope didn’t expect any of them to speak up in her defence. Not when they all relied on Madame Chambon as much as she did to provide them with the necessities of life. Anything more than that was part of a strict contract that indentured a girl for life unless she was able to secure a generous benefactor to settle Madame's severance bill. The fine clothes were part of the charade, necessary to entice a more elite clientele. Hope’s exquisite wardrobe did not belong to her though she'd have forsaken all the dupion silk and Spitalfields lace for the freedom of the gutter and to be mistress of her own destiny – and her body - if she could only be sure of a plate of gravy and potatoes every second day. Closing her eyes, she hung her head, the carefully coiffed curls that fell forwards brushing against her tear-streaked cheeks. It was as well that they not be in evidence. Tears, weakness, vulnerability were like a red rag to a bull where Madame Chambon was concerned. “How long…do I have to prepare myself?” She was not so stupid she couldn’t admit defeat when there was no alternative. Obduracy was beaten out of one, but tears ensured a girl got the very worst next assignment. Their clients weren’t all marquesses and princes, though they did require a very fat pocket book. “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow.” Hope repeated it in a leaden tone, and stared at her hands, clasped in her lap; white-knuckled. As white as the rabbit-fur that edged her fashionable black-and-white striped satin cuirass. Hope had the tall, slim figure suited to the scandalously tight tie-back skirts that were all the rage, the back flowing into a train adorned with elaborate swags and trimmed with bows. She'd turned heads the length of Oxford Street as she’d promenaded along the pavement following a walk through Hyde Park earlier that afternoon. In fact, for the first time in two years, she’d almost felt happy as she’d pretended a sense of freedom in the afternoon sun, blocking her mind to the prison to which she was returning. She drew in her breath and forced herself to be brave, knowing the punishment she’d invite for daring to speak her mind. “Please tell Mr Hunt I will see him again under sufferance.” Madame Chambon’s voice was surprisingly caramel. “Well then, now that you have made your objection clear, Hope, you will be pleased to hear that Mr Hunt’s desires are not only motivated by fond memories of your no-doubt mutually satisfying congress. I believe he wishes to acquaint you with news of your family.” Hope hid her shock. “I have no family.” With care, she modified her tone so it was as leaden as before though emotion roiled close to the surface. “Not even a sister?” Hope raised her chin. Here was the chink and Madame knew it. The woman did her research. Aware that the other girls who surrounded her were tense with anticipation, Hope struggled not to respond. Camaraderie existed at surface level but one never knew when it might profit one to have the dirt on a fellow prostitute. It was, clearly, another reason Madame Chambon had chosen to make this conversation public. “Mr Hunt will see you at nine tomorrow evening,” said the so-called Frenchwoman who, it was whispered, was from the gutters of Lambeth, not Paris. “At his apartments in Duke Street. Now go and prepare yourself for Lord Farrow. Married to a monolith like the venerable Lady Farrow, he likes his girls vivacious and free-spirited. There’ll be less coin in your pocket if you sully the transaction with that long face, Hope.” ~*~*~*~*~*~ Author Info:
“Mako? Are you sleep walking again?” Ryder’s voice made me relax as I rubbed at my eyes.
“Ryder, why did you guys put a wall in the middle of the hall? It’s blocking me from food.” I whined.
“There’s our Firefly.” Marcus praised, chuckling.
“I can’t believe she actually called Kai a wall.” Daniel mused, his voice sounded thick with sleep.
“Kai?” I asked, opening my eyes just as the apparent wall, turned around, brilliant amber eyes locking on me. I gawked at the sight; my heart raced at the new shifter before me.
He was six feet for sure, maybe only an inch away from Marcus’ height. His wind-blown, coiffed hair was a stunning orange. Holy Starlight, a GINGER!! Like those hot guys in the fashion magazines.
He smiled, his perfectly straight, white teeth making an appearance, only adding to his forbidden sexiness. I wonder if Adam in the bible was this good looking. Maybe that’s why that Eve shifter went and took that apple.
“Princess, that’s not how it went in the bible, but I’m pleased with your admission of liking my ginger hair.” He approved; his calm voice enough to soothe any shifter.
Title: Power Struggle
Author: Paige Fieldsted
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: November 30, 2017
Cover Designer: Concierge Literary Designs & Photography https://www.facebook.com/cldesignsky
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
I gave up on love twenty years ago, when my fairytale ending was ripped out of my hands. These days I want hot sex, and that’s it. Jameson Beck is experienced, confident, and so sexy it should be a sin— a perfect distraction from the murder trial taking over my life. Now I’m expected to work with him every day and ignore his never-ending advances? Yeah, right. I can’t keep my distance, not even with Jameson threatening everything I’ve worked for the past ten years.
Olivia Roberts is the epitome of a blonde bombshell. She’s hot, feisty, and isn’t afraid to talk dirty. She fights me at every turn, but that only makes me want her more. Too bad she’s the one person standing between me and the partnership I’d do anything for. Now Olivia is making me question it all. I thought my career was enough. I thought I didn’t need love. But now I don’t think I can live without it.
Paige Fieldsted lives in Utah with her husband, son Mason, and Willy the pug. She has been writing for as long as she can remember and eventually pursued a career in journalism before leaving her job as a reporter for a job in communications, where the hours aren’t as long and the stress isn’t as high. When she’s not writing or working, Paige loves watching sports, especially football, cooking, having impromptu dance parties in the kitchen with her toddler, singing loudly in the car and reading.
She stepped closer and rested her hands on my chest, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “I’m so happy to be here with you, you have no idea,” she said softly.
My abs clenched. Jesus, just having her hands on me made me as hard as iron. “I think I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” she said, moving even closer.
I might have decided to keep my dick in my pants, but there was no way I wasn’t going to kiss her. I’d go mad if I didn’t taste those full lips. I dipped my head. “Oh yeah.”
We’d had a couple of hot and heavy conversations over the phone, but I’d tried not to go there too often with her. I knew this day was coming, and I had a definite idea of how our time together should be spent. If I’d been listening to her come over the phone the last six months all that would have disappeared out the window. Shit, I’d already have her naked in my bed.
I growled, shoving that image out of my head, and closed the distance between us.
Finally, our lips met…and I kid you not, the fucking angels sang.
My mouth covered hers, moving slowly at first, and my entire body lit up, every nerve ending sparking, my heart pounding. I slid my arms around her small waist and hauled her off her feet, lifting her so we were the same height. Shoving my fingers in her hair, I tilted my head to get more of her, and she opened for me, her sweet little tongue flicking out and brushing mine.
I’d been with quite a few women in my life. Like I said, I’d lived wild for a lot of years, acting out, trying to work out what I wanted. But as soon as I did, as soon as I knew what I wanted for my future, I’d stopped all of it. I’d focused on my goal, which was building a house and finding a woman who I could share it with. That was four years ago. Which meant I’d been celibate that long as well. So I wasn’t surprised by my reaction to Freya, by the pulsing need pounding through me at finally having her against me.
But I’d never in my life experienced anything like this. Like a live wire was sparking inside me, through my whole damn body. My hips punched forward all on their own, my cock impossibly hard. I knew I had to slow this down, take a step back, but God only knew how I was going to do that.
Mill Pond #6
by Judi Lynn
Genre: Contemporary Romance
In Mill Pond, Indiana, neighbors always look out for each other. And even though tourists are drawn to the small town’s charms, it’s the locals who fill it with warmth . . .
Traveling nurse Karli Redding doesn’t have many fond memories of her aging grandfather, Axel—or of Mill Pond. But with Axel’s health in decline and Karli on a month’s hiatus between jobs, she volunteers to set him up with the help he needs. The house and her grandfather could both use some TLC. Good thing Keagan Monroe, the very attractive mailman next door, is always ready to lend a hand…
Not a lot slips by a mailman, and Keagan appreciates Karli’s dogged attempts to spruce up the neglected property. Painting, fixing the sagging porch, delivering a constant stream of casseroles from caring neighbors—he’ll help however he can, all while keeping his feelings under wraps. A short-term fling just doesn’t fit into his schedule. But with each passing day, Karli’s bond with the town grows a little deeper. Has fate sent her exactly where she needs to be? Karli’s willing to find out, and the first step is figuring out the perfect route to Keagan’s heart…
Judi Lynnreceived a Master’s Degree from Indiana University as an elementary school teacher after attending the IPFW campus. She taught 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades for six years before having her two daughters. She loves gardening, cooking and trying new recipes.
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Author: M. Lachi
Narrators: John Hawks
Length: 12 hours 59 minutes
Publisher: Love Ego
Released: Oct. 6, 2017
Genre: Dark Fantasy
Samiyah, a young peasant on a quest to find love and honor, wins a chance to attend the royal ball. Beyond her wildest dreams, she finds herself dancing in the arms of Prince Chad, heir to the throne. As there brews a violent struggle between the brutal ruling-class and the oppressed peasantry, Chad and Samiyah's growing, talk-of-the-town love spawns whispers of bloody uprisings and plots of swift usurpation.
Lachi is a novelist and composer hailing New York City. While her musical works landed her features on Oprah Radio, Huffpost and NPR, her 2015 debut novel "The Ivory Staff" found itself in The Examiner/AXS and Publisher's Weekly. Outside of writing and composing, M. Lachi can be found social-butterflying around New York with her partner-in-crime.
Q&A with Author M. Lachi
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Alisha Rai returns with the second novel in her sizzling Forbidden Hearts series!
He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his brother’s widow…
Accused of a crime he didn’t commit, Jackson Kane fled his home, his name, and his family. Ten years later, he’s come back to town: older, wiser, richer, tougher—and still helpless to turn away the one woman he could never stop loving, even after she married his brother.
Sadia Ahmed can’t deal with the feelings her mysterious former brother-in-law stirs, but she also can’t turn down his offer of help with the cafe she’s inherited. While he heats up her kitchen, she slowly discovers that the boy she adored has grown into a man she’s simply unable to resist.
An affair is unthinkable, but their desire is undeniable. As secrets and lies are stripped away, Sadia and Jackson must decide if they’re strong enough to face the past…and step into a future together.
About the Book
Wrong To Need You
About Alisha Rai
Alisha Rai pens award-winning sexy contemporary romances and is the first author to have an indie-published book appear on The Washington Post’s annual Best Books list. She spends most of her time dreaming up sexy heroes and heroines, traveling, and tweeting. To find out more about her books or to sign up for her newsletter, visit http://www.alisharai.com
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS: Open to US shipping addresses only. One winner will receive a paperback copy of Hate to Want You by Alisha Rai. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Avon Romance. Giveaway ends 12/8/2017 @ 11:59pm EST. Avon Romance will send the winning copies out to the winner directly. Limit one entry per reader and mailing address. Duplicates will be deleted.
Hello! This is one of my tour stops during my two week book tour for The Bennu Project by Tyrone Givens. This virtual book tour is organized by Write Now Literary Book Tours. This tour runs November 23-December 6, 2017. Follow the tour here. Book your own tour here WNL
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fi
About The Book
On a dangerous run to scavenge supplies from a remote excavation site in the Meza Ruins, Azubuike and his friends encounter a unique piece of technology left by their ancestors. Once exposed to the device, Azubuikeâs reality is altered in ways that could unravel his mind. The team has no way of knowing the dangerâor benefitâposed by this ancient technology which triggered a series of events forever changing Azubuike and his friends. Has he unlocked the secret to end the alien occupation of his world or will this device result in the extinction of his people?
The Bennu Project is a genre-defying novel with the suspense of mystery, metaphors of science fiction and accuracy of historical relevance depicting the rise-and-fall of several Nile Valley civilizations.
About The Author
Fed up with the stereotypical caricatures used to falsely portray the Black culture, Tyrone Givens is committed to creating heroes and heroines as positive images for our children. To reverse the less-than-flattering qualities that diminish self-esteem, self-worth and cultural value, this master storyteller entertains readers with science fiction plots infused with historical facts often omitted from school curriculums.
Givens, a homeschool educator whose high school-aged children are attending college, is a multi-lingual, federally-licensed airplane pilot. The Bennu Project is the culmination of his passions: empowering Black children, accurate depiction of our history and rebuilding our community.
Tour hosted by WNL Book Tours