Monday 30 August 2021

Widow Wanting More by Charlie Lane

 


  Books 1, Cavendish Family Chronicles

Historical Romance (steamy)

Date Published: August 26, 2021



A penniless widow. A baron running from love. Will a marriage of convenience save them or tear them apart?

Widow Sarah Pennington has no time for love. Sending a son to Harrow is not cheap, and her husband’s lies left them in poverty. When she loses her position at the bookshop, she knows marriage isn’t the answer. Only her own hard work will save the day.

It seems Baron Eaden can’t love a woman without her dying. To keep his daughters, and his heart, safe, he roams the world, keeping his distance. But when his hunt for a rare book brings him back to London, he knows he must do the one thing he’s avoided for years—find them a mother. He needs a woman who’s up to the challenge, not one to fall in love with. Because he’s vowed never to make that mistake again.

The determined, lovely-eyed widow in the bookshop challenges Henry in every way. She’s exactly who his daughters need. But she’d rather have the book he’s after than his hand in marriage.

A marriage of convenience could save Sarah and her son, but when she finds passion in the baron’s arms, she realizes security isn’t enough. She wants Henry’s heart. If he can find the courage to trust her with it.


Excerpt

Sarah stopped their progress and pulled away from him. Twisting her hands in front of her, she watched her son walk farther ahead then drew in a breath, and seemed to conquer whatever ailed her. Henry enjoyed watching the process of her gathering fortitude for whatever it was she was about to say.

Did you truly come back to issue a third proposal of marriage?”

You know I have.”

She smirked. “Third time’s the charm?”

No. That suggests luck. Luck doesn’t obtain much of anything important. I’ve come prepared this time.” He resisted looking toward James. He kept his eyes pinned on hers. “The first time I proposed I did so on a moment’s whim. The second time, I’d determined that my whim was logical and correct, but I was not in the best of states to make a persuasive argument.”

She eyed him from boots to hat. “And you are in a better state now?” she asked.

While James had been fitted for new clothes, Henry had returned to Steven’s for a bath and a shave. He knew he didn’t make a shabby picture.

I believe I am prepared.” Henry stepped closer and untwisted Mrs. Pennington’s hands. Folding them in his own, he said, “Mrs. Pennington, we just met yesterday, but I believe we have much to offer one another. I’ll not repeat those arguments I made yesterday. You know them as well as I. Instead, I’ll say what I did not and should have.”

He’d not said words like he was about to say to any woman in over five years, and he’d never said them to anyone on so short an acquaintance. But they must be said. They were true, he found, despite it all. He reached a hand to her temple where a curl had escaped her simple chignon.

I think you’re exquisite,” he said. “I think you’re smart. I think you’re brave. I think there’s no woman in England I’d rather marry half as much as you.”

She blinked several times. Her mouth parted slightly. Her chest rose and fell faster than it had moments before.

I have one more argument, and it may be my most persuasive yet.”

Oh?”

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. He dipped his head until their noses touched. “Always put your best argument last.” His lips brushed hers before sinking in to drink long and full. The kiss was to him like water to the desert-lost soul. Her soft curves pushed against his chest, her long, strong back beneath his fingertips, all overwhelmed his senses.

When her hands flattened against his chest, flexed, then roamed upward to wind around his neck, he moaned, then parted her lips with his tongue to drink of her more deeply.

She let him make a spectacle of them both in the street until he was convinced, completely and utterly, of her answer. He grinned in their kiss, pulling away to view her flushed face.

Well?” he asked. “Are you persuaded?” He needed to hear her say it. Yes.

Her hands still curled around his neck, and she stood on tiptoe, leaning against him. Her body resting against his for balance, for stability, felt like perfection. Better than the hot Egyptian sun. Better than a soft bed or warm bath. Better than being back at Cavendish Manor.

She smiled, bit her lip. He knew what her smile meant. It meant victory.


About The Author

Charlie Lane traded in academic databases and scholarly journals for writing steamy Regency romcoms like the ones she’s always loved to read. Her favorite authors are Jane Austen (who else?), Toni Morrison, William Blake, Julia Quinn, Tessa Dare, and Amanda Quick, and when she’s not writing humorous conversations, dramatic confrontations, or sexy times, she’s flying high in the air as a circus-obsessed acrobat.


Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Blog

Goodreads

Pinterest

Instagram

Bookbub


Purchase Link

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday 27 August 2021

The Fourniers by Vera Jane Cook


Historical Fiction

Date Published: 10-06-2021

Publisher: Indies United


photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Escaping from her childhood, Sheela, flees her aunt's motel where she is forced to work as a cleaning maid and provide ‘favors’ for wealthy guests and winds up in Miami in Kit Malone's fancy brothel. Beautiful and stately, Sheela becomes a high-class prostitute, a millionaire’s mistress and a Billy Rose showgirl. When she meets the love of her life in Manhattan, the charming but naïve Julius Clark, life blossoms into something both frightening and titillating. But when Sheela gives birth to her daughter, Fanny, it is this shadowy and stormy relationship that alters the course of both of their destinies and defines their future.


About the Author

Vera Jane Cook was born in New York City and has been a city girl ever since. As an only child, she turned to reading novels at an early age and was deeply influenced by an eclectic group of authors. Before Jane became a writer, she worked in the professional theatre and appeared on television, in regional theatre, film and off Broadway.

At the age of fifty Jane began to write novels. Some of her titles include Dancing Backward in Paradise, winner of an Eric Hoffer Award for publishing excellence and an Indie Excellence Award for notable new fiction, 2007. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater and Dancing Backward in Paradise received 5 Star ForeWord Clarion Reviews and The Story of Sassy Sweetwater was named a finalist for the ForeWord Book of the Year Awards. She has published in ESL Magazine, Christopher Street Magazine and has written early childhood curriculum for Weekly Reader and McGraw Hill.

Jane still lives on the upper west side of Manhattan right near Riverside Park where she takes her delightful dogs for a jog, Peanut and Carly. She comes home to her spouse of thirty years and her two cats, Sassy and Sweetie Pie.


Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

Pinterest

Instagram


Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

iBooks

Smashwords

Google Play

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

The Purple Bird by Dylan Roche

 

 


Young Adult

Date Published: March 1, 2019

Publisher: Jan-Carol Publishing, Inc.



No matter how long he has yearned to escape his boring life as an ordinary teenager, nothing can prepare James Shannassy for the afternoon when he meets a figment bird called Archit and the two of them set off for the world of Nalgordia to break a centuries-old curse. Being the hero of his own fantasy adventure isn't exactly what James expected it to be, but when he finds himself caught up in an epic fight against a force of evil, he knows he might be the only one able to stop it. Archit's fate now rests entirely in his hands...and there's no turning back now!


About the Author


Dylan Roche is a journalist, editor, actor, director, playwright, teacher, and marathon runner based in Annapolis, Maryland. The Purple Bird is his first novel.


Contact Links

Website

Twitter: @DylanIsWriting

Blog

Goodreads

Instagram: @dylaniswriting


Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday 23 August 2021

Smoother than Spumoni by Marilyn Barr

 


Strawberry Shifters spin-off. Series Hashtag #StrawberryShifters

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 8/23/2021

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press



Susie Larkin is a dolphin shifter and heir to the humble Larkin’s Dairy Dip on Seagrass Island, FL. Pedaling ice cream from bicycle carts on the beach is just a stepping-stone for this future CEO of a frozen confection empire—or so she hopes.

Frank Paulino Jr. receives his first taste of freedom from Strawberry, KY in a summer internship at Bart’s Oyster bar. His pasta creations save the restaurant when red tide poisons the fresh fish of the bay, making him the most popular werewolf on Seagrass island.

Frank and Susie uncover a conspiracy that threatens not only the wildlife of the area but also their lives. Can these two shifters put their ambitions aside long enough to give their relationship a chance, or will Frank pay the ultimate price to protect Susie and the island she loves?


Excerpt

They move quickly, efficiently, and silently, only stopping to check over their shoulders every few minutes. When the exchange is complete, the truck starts again. Even though it is dark, without headlights they navigate unerringly through the native swamp.

That was weird. You thought it was weird right?”

Yeah, I want to know what is in those barrels.”

Let’s leave it alone. We have been gone for months and have no idea how this area has changed. Let’s go home and ask our parents or Wilson.”

Why? When one look at the label will answer all our questions? Besides, the truck has already left.”

They could return.”

As shady as they were acting, they aren’t coming back. Come on—”

No way, Susie Q. We are going home.” Her voice shakes as she lays down her ultimatum. She can’t abandon me here in case I succumb to Red Tide on the swim home. However, tears have already started rolling down her cheeks. My bestie is terrified.

You are right. Let’s go ask,” I say calmly. Why upset her more when I can bring a braver companion tomorrow? Surely a demon-slaying werewolf won’t be scared of a few barrels?


About the Author

Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. She has a diverse background containing experiences as a child prodigy turned medical school reject, published microbiologist, special education/inclusion science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant, certified spiritual/energy healer, and advocate for the autistic community. This puts her in the position to bring tales containing heroes who are regular people with different ability levels and body types, in a light where they are powerful, lovable, and appreciated.

When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula. She is a sucker (haha) for cheesy horror movies, Italian food, punk music, black cats, bad puns, and all things witchy.


Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

Instagram

BookBub

Amazon author profile


Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

iBooks



a Rafflecopter giveaway
RABT Book Tours & PR

Saturday 14 August 2021

My Ruin by Sapna Bhog

 


The bonds of family are unbreakable.

From bestselling Author Sapna Bhog comes a new romance series of friendship, loyalty and betrayal.
He never expected to run into her…
SHAURYA RAJPOOT is a man of many secrets. A sudden meeting with Myra Gupta changes the course of his life. Bound by a vow to his family, Shaurya keeps her at a distance…until she shatters all the barriers between them. Staying away from her soon becomes impossible, resisting her…unimaginable. 
She wasn’t prepared for him…
After losing the only man she ever loved, MYRA GUPTA has gone through life barely living and merely surviving. But all that changes when she meets Shaurya Rajpoot. Fascinated and intrigued by him, Myra is drawn by his loyalty, silent strength and quiet reserve. She yearns to get to know him better. However his past, his family and their bitter history keeps getting in the way of them being together. 
But when the past collides with the present and secrets are revealed, will love be enough? Or will one lie—the biggest deception of all—destroy Shaurya and Myra forever?

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com


Read an Excerpt from My Ruin


Foolish.
It was nothing but foolishness to have been watching her for the last ten minutes. But the moment he’d spotted her on his iPad screen, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d wanted to see her again.
God! She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Dark hair flowing down her back, the skin of one bare shoulder glistening like gold under the muted lights and those never-ending legs. His heart dipped. She was stunning. And then there were those red pouty lips. 
Fuck! Those red lips would be his undoing.
He’d been so busy taking her in that he hadn’t even realized she’d found him too. He backed away and then turned, heading towards the small private entrance that he and his brothers used to access the restaurant. He rounded a corner, heading towards a locked door.
Just as he put his finger on the keypad lock, he heard her soft voice.
“Wait, please,” she begged.
Cursing himself for his stupidity, he began to slowly turn. She took a tentative step towards him, staring at him like he was the answer to everything she’d ever desired. She halted less than a foot away, studying him, taking in every inch of him. She opened her mouth and closed it, unable to speak a word and then she wet her lips instead.
His eyes zeroed in on her mouth and his mind screamed with the urge to close the distance between them and pull her to him. To breathe her in. To taste those lips.
Fuck! Nothing in his life had prepared him for such madness. Such insanity. 
 Suddenly, the smoke alarm rang aloud and in the next second the lights went off.
She gasped.
There was nothing but pitch darkness everywhere and the smoke alarm blazing around him. He whipped his head around. What the fuck? Why had the backup generator not kicked in yet?
Something was seriously wrong. Thankfully there didn’t seem to be a fire. He couldn’t smell any smoke. However, for some bizarre reason the smoke detector had been activated and the lights had gone off. All this, he noted, had managed to incite fear and chaos among the people. In the distance he could hear someone screaming, glasses breaking and foots stomping as people rushed to the exit.
A second later the space around him was filled with the dull green light from the keypad of the security panel of the door beside him. Thankfully that was connected to another system. In the dim light, he caught the worry lining her face.
The door screeched. Heart thundering, he grabbed her arm and hauled her behind him, standing in front of her—alert and prepared to face whatever threat came his way. With the strange incident of the lights going off and then the backup not coming on, he didn’t trust who’d walk in through that door and he didn’t want to take any chances.
A bright white light shone on his face.
He raised his fists, ready to battle the intruder.
“Relax, brother,” Vihaan placated, sounding amused. He lowered his phone flash light. “It’s only me.”
Exhaling a harsh breath, Shaurya gave him a quiet nod. Vihaan angled his head and raised the phone to the woman standing silently behind Shaurya. Even in the shadows, Shaurya could make out the grimace on his brother’s face.
He would most certainly hear about this.
“I’ll check on what’s happening inside,” Vihaan finally said. “Join me when you’re done. It’s not a fire for sure.”
Relieved to hear that, Shaurya ushered her quickly outside the same door Vihaan had entered from. They crossed another dark corridor. Shaurya could navigate these hallways without a light, but he switched on his phone flash light, nonetheless. At the end of the passage, he opened another door and they stepped into the back alley of the building. Muted streetlights paved their way forward as he silently escorted Myra to the front of the building.
“Wait,” she said, halting. “Tiya, my friend, is inside. I need to make sure she’s safe.” 
She immediately removed her phone from her purse and called someone. He heard her speak in soft tones to her friend. And only once the two of them were convinced the other was safe, did Myra hang up.
“She’s fine,” Myra announced with a sigh. “She’s waiting outside the restaurant for me.”
Shaurya started in that direction, when he heard her say, “Wait, please.”
Frowning, he pivoted. 
 “I just…I just want to talk to you for a minute.” She took a step closer to him.  “Who…who are you?”
He remained silent, hating himself for being in this situation. He didn’t need any distractions at this point in life and this woman would become a major distraction if he allowed it. What was worse was that she was working for the enemy. And he couldn’t and wouldn’t betray his family by getting further entangled with her. 
Without replying he started forward again, but she caught his arm. Heat from her hand radiated right into his skin, leaving a trail of fire. She dropped her hand away, as if burnt.
She wet her lips. “Have we met before?”
God! She was relentless.
“We did meet briefly at the airport.” His lips curved. “Have you forgotten I helped you gather your stuff?”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten that. What I mean is…have we met prior to today?”
He stayed quiet assessing her while she too kept watching him in that deeply intense way of hers.
She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Let’s go.” He splayed a hand out in the front. “You said your friend is waiting.”
“No, I just need a moment to figure out where I’ve met you before.”
“I assure you that we haven’t met...”
She chewed on her lower lip, thinking for a moment. “You feel so…so familiar.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“What is your name?” she pressed.
He looked heavenward. “Do you ever give up?”
She lifted her jaw, stubbornly.
He sighed. “Shaurya Rajpoot.”
“Shaurya,” she breathed out. And then she held her hand out. “Myra Gupta.”
Their hands touched and once again a spark flared on his skin. Her wide eyes rushed to his. It was clear that she had felt it too.
Removing his hand, he said, “Shall we?”
She fell into step with him.
“Are you single? Can we meet somewhere for coffee?” She soldiered on. “I mean not now, but tomorrow perhaps.”
His eyes rounded. “Are you always so direct?”
“When I need to be,” she stated.
They reached the end of the alley. Several people were crowded on the pavement outside the restaurant. 
Shaurya faced her. “I am single, but you seem to have forgotten that you aren’t.” He tipped his chin to her left hand. “And I don’t dally with engaged women.”
Her eyes flared with hurt. But it had to be said. He couldn’t meet her again, no matter how much he wished it so and the fact was that she was engaged. 
Without another word, she marched forward. He waited until she found her friend. The two of them hailed a passing cab. They climbed in and were soon out of his sight.



About the Author:
Sapna Bhog is an author from India who writes contemporary and historical romance novels. As a self-proclaimed die-hard romantic, her books are filled with swoon-worthy heroes and feisty heroines who clash all the time, but do get their happy ever after. Sapna has always surrounded herself with books and when she is not writing she is reading. Originally from Dubai, she now lives in Western India with her husband, kids and a Siberian Husky. Sapna gave up a successful IT career and took a foray into writing and has never looked back since. Her favourite pastimes are reading, writing, traveling and shopping—not necessarily in that order. She loves to hear from readers.

Sapna on the Web:
Twitter * Facebook * Instagram




Thursday 12 August 2021

Sought by Aline Hunter

 



The Wolf's Den, Book #3

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: August 13, 2021

Publisher: Renrut Publishing



There can be light in the dark...

Shane Heyward left everything behind to find his mate. He struggled for months, following his wolf to her location, guided to a place where supernatural beings exist and thrive. Despite being capable of leading his own pack, he chose to join one. When he finds his mate by accident, he's shaken by the truth. Not only is she blind, the wolf within her is completely feral. If he can't help her take control of the beast, she'll have to be destroyed.

Luna Lowe was forced to leave her previous pack after she shifted, attacked, and almost killed two members—one of which was her sister. She's ashamed of her behavior, wondering if death is preferable to living alone, when the male she believed abandoned her due to her lack of sight arrives.

As Shane and Luna come together, he learns her history. His female was wronged, and the insult has to be dealt with swiftly and harshly. As he takes charge and seeks retribution, reverting to his Alpha nature, everything will change—for both of them.



Excerpt

"Don't you dare be ashamed of the way you respond to me." Shane knew the moment Luna's excitement changed to mortification. Since he didn't want that, he lifted her hand and skimmed his lips over her knuckles. "Whatever you're thinking about, I can do. In fact, I'd like to do whatever you're thinking about and more."

She drew a ragged breath, and he glanced at her.

Her cheeks were rosy and pink, matching her full lips.

Damn it to hell.

Her light touch was tentative but curious. He imagined what her fingers would feel like drifting over his back and chest. He wanted to experience them buried in his hair. She kept her nails neat and tidy, but they were just long enough that he'd notice if she buried them in his flesh. He'd find out how that felt soon enough. She had to accept the mating and him first. Afterward, when she felt comfortable, there were so many things he wanted to do to her.

He was a deviant bastard.

A new fragrance filled the air.

When he placed it, he almost pulled over, so he could face her dead-on.

She was still aroused, but she was also extremely upset about something.

"If you mate me, you're stuck," she whispered. "There's no going back."

She didn't think she was worthy of him. He'd realized that when she'd asked him if he hadn't come to her because she couldn't see. She'd had months to think that very thing. By now, she likely believed he'd abandoned her because she wasn't good enough.

He'd let her get away with a lot, but never that.



About The Author

Aline Hunter has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies, and flash fiction contests. Her work has a dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old horror films, tastes in music, and choices in reading, and has been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy,” and “a breath of fresh air.”

You can visit her online at www.alinehunter.com


Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

Instagram

FB Private Reader Group

Mewe


Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

iBooks

Smashwords

Universal Link Books2Read


RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday 9 August 2021

Loser Baby by Jason Bovberg

Loser Baby by Jason Bovberg Banner

Loser Baby

by Jason Bovberg

August 1-31, 2021 Tour

Synopsis:

Loser Baby by Jason Bovberg

Jasmine Frank is missing.

It’s a humid summer morning in Santa Ana, California, and her twin brother Jordan abruptly finds himself on a desperate search—fearing the worst. The party last night got way out of hand, and his brain is still chemically fried. But this is Jasmine’s story. She’s awakened far from home to her own mystery: She’s unwittingly stolen something from the most dangerous person she’s ever known. Tommy Strafe. And now Tommy is raging through the sunbaked streets, gathering illicit forces to seek brutal retribution. But all Jasmine really wants is to get out of Orange County, escape her past, and find a measure of redemption.

Loser Baby is a propulsive blast through the streets of the SoCal melting pot, a breakneck dark-comic neo-noir populated by misfits and malefactors, criminals and innocents, down-and-outers and spun-out dreamers. Prepare yourself for an adrenaline rush of rat-a-tat he-said-she-said narrative twists—all in service of a giddily slam-bang shock ending.

Book Praise:

“Jason Bovberg’s Loser Baby is a beautiful noir novel for the 21st century! It’s a wild, frantic ride through shady Southern California, a desperate drug-fueled search for a girl who only wants to escape a sordid life.”
—Scott Phillips, author of THE ICE HARVEST and THAT LEFT TURN AT ALBUQUERQUE

"Loser Babyis the real deal for hardcore crime fiction fans. This one grinds with the engine over the red line all the way. Hang on tight!"
—Eric Beetner, author of ALL THE WAY DOWN

Loser Baby is one cool book! Bovberg writes characters who get into your head and under your skin. You won't shake this one easily: It’ll stay with you long after you read it!”
—Terrill Lee Lankford, author of SHOOTERS and ANGRY MOON

“Jason Bovberg's Loser Baby is a high-octane thriller that moves like greased lightning! The beauty of this book is its motley collection of despicable characters whom you come to love by the end. Loser Baby is Bovberg's greatest book and one of the best of the year.
—Gary Phillips, author of BLOOD AND ASPHALT and BIRDS OF FIRE

Book Details:

Genre: Suspense
Published by: Dark Highway Press
Publication Date: August 2nd 2021
Number of Pages: 322
ISBN: 9780966262988
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

0 Jasmine

Smack in the middle of Santa Ana on a Friday night, gang-funk psychedelia, the animal snarl and faint butane odor of nitrous-juiced import cars, the streets undulating and ratcheting like a grungy arcade game—rumble, whoosh, clickety-clack. The city was still new to Jasmine Frank, this sprawling expanse of damp concrete, swaying palms, salty beach sweat, and steaming antifreeze. The japchae and the spicy fish tacos and the pulsating afro grooves, the cackling Chicano rap, the cacophony of indecipherable shouts coming at her along Westminster Boulevard—yes! She got off on the staccato ghetto thrill of it all, closing her eyes, lost in the jagged rhythms, the music and the traffic, crisscrossing like a spastic radio dial. A constantly moving mobile night life.

Sooooo different from what she and Jordy were used to back home in that deadened whitebread cul-de-sac, north Garden Grove. In their new life, it felt as if there were raging pool parties around every cinder-block corner, drugs and condoms handed out like candy, cool kids as far as the eye could see. Plenty of assholes, too, but who cared about them? You just ignored them, and they went away, bothered someone else.

Jordy’s voice whispered hot in her ear, but he wasn’t in the car with her now, he was back at Tommy’s party. She couldn’t catch her brother’s words. It was as if they were buffeting on the humid wind outside her window. Or maybe she didn’t want to hear him. She tuned him out, left him back at Tommy’s house. She laughed at that, then felt a little bad. Just a little.

The inside of the car looked new—it even had a spiffy aftermarket audio deck with a touchscreen—but it was an older ride, some kind of Volkswagen according to the steering wheel. The driver (what was his name, again?) had let her thumb down her window to let the night in. She’d made him turn off his USB stick full of sugary pop right away, in favor of the nightsong. The hazy world swirled, and her body with it. She grooved in the contoured seat.

Jasmine glanced over at the dude, caught him ogling her legs, which she knew looked fabulous beneath the hem of her blue dress. His gaze both mortified and delighted her. Dude was OK looking but nothing special, and of course she knew what he was after. But she aimed higher, deserved better. Deserved more. That’s what Jordy told her, and that’s what her mom used to say, too.

Hell, the guy was good for a ride, anyway.

“How much farther, my duuuuude?” she sang out, full-throated, and she swore she could see her voice splay out colorfully and blast out the window into the night.

LOL, she thought, like actually conjuring the individual letters. She giggled, loving it. What’s wrong with me?

“Few miles,” he said, smirk-voiced.

He was wearing a silly dark fedora that he thought made him look sophisticated or something, but she knew it was only there to hide his thinning hair. She remembered him from the vitamin store a few days ago, when this all started. He was harmless, like a puppy dog. If you’d told her then that she’d end up alone with him, shotgun in his VW a few days later, high as shitballs, rushing through the late-late Santa Ana night in search of burgers, she’d have laughed in your face. Nice eyes, though. A good set of blue eyes could take a guy a long way.

She found herself balling up her fists and drumming the dash and screaming, “Fuuuuuck iiiiiiiit!”

Holy crap, something was in her system, gooey and euphoric, making her feel as if her head was twisting up and away like some fancy warm firecracker. Everything exaggerated, everything spinning out, like just now this hopped-up neon-yellow Toyota ahead of them, its tires chirping on the concrete of the intersection, couple of teenagers’ hands waving frantically out the sunroof. Heading toward the beach, probably, the bonfires, the giddy drunken dancing at the shore. Jasmine squealed laughter, wanting to go with them.

But she was hungry, Jesus Christ! Whooaaa hooooooo!

Food first.

“Well, hurry up, then!” she said nonsensically, realizing after she said it that she was responding to whatever the driver said a few minutes ago.

They were stopped at a light, and she was tapping her foot.

“This probably isn’t the greatest idea, you know,” he said, right hand resting on his short-throw gearshift. “Tommy’s gonna be pissed. At both of us.”

“Jeez, man, you’re bringin’ me down.”

“You don’t want Tommy pissed at you.”

“Awww, he’s a big ol’ softie.”

“I’m serious.”

“He’s cool.”

He gave her a look. “Girl, you’re thinkin’ of someone else.”

“Sheesh, I’ve known Tommy forever.”

“Be that as it may, you don’t—”

“Hold up, did you just say, ‘Be that as it may’?”

A pause. “Shut up.”

Jasmine started laughing so hard that she could barely breathe. After a while, her leaking eyes opened blurrily on the car next to them, and she saw a large Hispanic man staring at her as if he couldn’t figure her out. That was fine with her. She waved goofily at the dull-faced man, and then he pulled away when the light turned green. A few moments later, someone passed them in an underlit red Subaru WRX, sound system booming, windows tinted so black that it was like looking into the devil’s eyes. The rally car swerved liquidly around the traffic ahead of them and was gone as if it had never been.

“Oooooh,” she breathed.

Her laughter had run its course. It seemed like they were hitting every goddamn signal, and it was harshing her chill.

“What’s your name again?” Lolling her head toward the driver.

“Mark.” He looked annoyed, and that made her start laughing again. “It’s Mark.”

When she caught her breath, she said, sighing, “Let’s fetch those burgers and then go right back to Tommy’s, all right, Mark? Sound like a plan? If I don’t get something to eat, I’m gonna faint dead away.”

Jasmine hardly knew what she was coming out of her mouth. She sounded like her mom, she realized distantly. Every once in a while she’d blink hard and fall into a clarity gap in which she could curse Tommy and that guy who’d given her the pills, Derek, the weirdo with the tats. She was surprised Jordy’d let that guy get within twenty feet of her. But shit, who cared, she felt gooooood. Although she could sense that she was approaching the end of it—fuck!

She gripped the straps of her purse tightly, like holding on to the lapbar at the top of one of the insane rollercoasters at Magic Mountain, way up I-5, north of Los Angeles. That’s what she felt like right now. She remembered her mom taking her and Jordan up there to Valencia years ago, blitzing on so many goddamn coasters and so much candy and funnel cake that they’d felt nauseated and lightheaded for days after. That was before Karl came into the picture, before the fun drained out of the world.

The purse straps felt funny. Slippery. She glanced down and found she was holding on to a Safeway grocery bag. It was heavy.

Whatever.

But then all of a sudden, beneath the chemical bliss of whatever she’d ingested, her throat was raw, and she felt like crying. It was as if she were catching intermittent glimpses of an abyss that was beneath her at all times. The sensation was all wrapped up in Jordy, her twin brother who she both loved and hated, and what they’d done months ago. Sometimes she knew for sure that they’d made the right decision and were on their way to a future that meant something—like, absolutely. Other times, she was certain that there was no future, at least along this path … and nothing but doom lay on the horizon.

And now she knew she’d done something extra stupid, and she was heading toward an immediate future she wasn’t prepared for at all. She knew these things, but her body wouldn’t let her feel their full import. It left her fingers sweaty and shaking, barely holding on to this slippery Safeway bag. She pictured her mother’s face, and then the tears were closer than ever. She felt as if her lips were on the verge of murmuring—Mommy.

“Here it is, coming up on the left,” Mark said. “Yeah, I can definitely go for a Double-Double. This was a good call.”

Jasmine perked up, leaned forward, took a look around, wanting to squeeze every last drop of whatever was vibrating in her veins.

Westminster Boulevard seemed abruptly empty now, desolate almost, and it felt like seven hours had passed since she’d gotten in this stranger’s car.

“Where’d everyone go?” she whispered. “I mean, where’d everyone go?”

As the car slowed and eased into the turn lane, Jasmine felt a twitch of hollow nausea, and the eternal abyss—the one that was always beneath her—began to widen. She turned back to the open window, sucked in the night air in huge gasps, forced a beatific smile, tried to lose herself again.

It wasn’t working.

Mark turned into the dark, empty parking lot and immediately began shouting.

Jasmine’s head felt like a gob of Hubba Bubba. She felt Mark’s frustrated temper like a soft pummeling up there, and she brought disembodied hands to her face to massage her temple. Without realizing it, her head had fallen against her door, and she was idly watching the dead-of-night traffic continue to drift down Westminster Boulevard toward the 405 overpass. It was an endless procession of vehicles even at this ungodly hour, and why was she even out here at the edge of nowhere with this Mark person? The Safeway bag was even more slippery now, and it felt wrong in her grip, unnatural, and somewhere deep down she knew she was in trouble because of it.

Mark was still yelling, and now he was asking her a question, a repeated question, but all she could do was listen to the lonely night, the cars and vans and trucks whooooshing past. She closed her eyes, locked onto the repetition, the endless mournful sighs and howls of tires on asphalt, rising and then fading into the distance, one by one. That was really what Santa Ana was all about—a bunch of restless people on the move, all the time, on their way to anywhere else.

Except her.

Except Jasmine Frank.

She would always be here, trapped in SoCal amber, looking outward and yearning for the other side. Even if she found someone to take her to Santa Ana’s edge, like Mark had just done, she’d always be left gazing out into a great unknown, like a fish staring out of a murky bowl, and there’d always be someone yelling at her and telling her what to be or where to go.

As exhaustion began to press down on her, as well as increased nausea, Jasmine’s awareness fractured, and Jordy’s voice came into the mix, and then her mom’s, and she just wanted to go home. Home! Not the little hovel in Santa Ana that she shared with her brother, but her real home, where her mom was, when the world was good and promising.

She lifted her heavy head from the door, and she turned toward Mark.

He stopped yelling abruptly.

“Hey, are you all right? Are you crying?” His expression was one of genuine concern, and she felt a sudden warmth toward him.

“I don’t feel so hot,” she said, smacking her lips with distaste.

“Let’s get you home.”

Every once in a while, someone said just the right thing. Today it was this guy’s turn. Mark. That was his name. The man with the hat.

Jasmine smiled at him.

“Really?”

***

Excerpt from Loser Baby by Jason Bovberg. Copyright 2021 by Jason Bovberg. Reproduced with permission from Jason Bovberg. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Jason Bovberg

Jason Bovberg is the author of the Blood trilogy—Blood Red, Draw Blood, and Blood Dawn—as well as The Naked Dame, a throwback pulp noir novel. His forthcoming books include Tessa Goes Down, a border noir, and A Small Poisonous Act, a suburban crime novel. He is editor/publisher of Dark Highway Press, which published the controversial, erotic fairy tale Santa Steps Out and the weird western anthology Skull Full of Spurs.

He lives in Fort Collins, Colorado, with his wife Barb, his daughters Harper and Sophie, and his canines Rocky and Rango. You can find him online at www.jasonbovberg.com.

Catch Up With Our Author:
JasonBovberg.com
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram - @jasonbovbergauthor
Twitter - @JasonBovberg
Facebook - @CriminalVintage

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

 

 

Join In:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Jason Bovberg. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card (U.S. ONLY). The giveaway runs August 1st through September 2, 2021. Void where prohibited.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

Wednesday 4 August 2021

Twilight's Temptation (Shades of Night #2) by Shilpa Suraj


 The ace photographer and the supermodel, they should have been a match made in heaven. Instead, they fought like the demons of hell. 


Complicated, surly, and sexy, Manav Apte was probably the only photographer who resented his muse. From the day he’d seen her, there had been no other. Unfortunately, she was the one woman he could never have.
Passionate, talented, and gorgeous, Diana Severes refused to give the temperamental ass behind the camera the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. It was, however, impossible not to notice him or his glowering disapproval that trailed her everywhere she went.
Their dislike and distrust of each other is legendary in the fashion industry and yet, the sparks that fly when they come together for work are enough to light the sets on fire.
Will the Golden Girl of India’s fashion scene be able to see beyond his hatred to the love he’s desperately trying to mask? And will the country’s most talented photographer realise that his true talent lies not in what he views through his lens but what he sees through the filter of his heart?

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com




Read an Excerpt from Twilight's Temptation


We walked along the beach. Me in my shorts and black t-shirt, Diana in a glamorous white beach dress with lace trim. If there was ever a contrast competition, we’d win it hands down.

“Are you okay?” I asked her. 

Diana shrugged. “I guess. That was unpleasant but necessary. I’ll get next steps in place as soon as we get back to Mumbai.” 

“Will your family be okay with this?” 

“My parents don’t get a say in my career decisions. My dad is ex-army and my mom is a teacher. They don’t understand how this world works anyway.” She sidestepped some dog shit on the beach, moving a little closer to me. 

I itched to wrap an arm around her, pull her in for a hug and kiss her. Instead, I clenched my hands in my pockets, Adil’s words still echoing in my head. 

“My brother, who is a typical tech nerd, wouldn’t bother to venture an opinion either. The only other person who would have understood was Andrew, the brother who died. He was the one who encouraged me to get into modelling and pursue my dreams.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, a stray one streaking across one golden hued cheek. 

“And this was your dream? To be a model?” 

She stared back towards the resort in the distance, her mind somewhere I couldn’t follow. 

“I wanted the fame, the glamour and the money. I wanted to be independent. I wanted to be someone. Modeling gave me all of that and when my time ends, and it will end, we all know that, I have a backup plan in place for that too.”

I stared at her, seeing her, truly seeing her for the first time since I’d met her two years ago. She was so much more than that gorgeous face and bubbly personality that people mistook to be the entirety of her.

“I wanted to be a wildlife photographer,” I blurted out with all the finesse of a horny sixteen year old. 

“You can still be one,” she smiled. “Just in addition to what you already do.”

“I work nonstop. I’d never be able to find the time,” I muttered. 

“We can always find the time if it’s important enough to us. We make time when we want to.” She cupped my cheek and pressed a light kiss on to it. 

She was right. We made time and space for what we wanted, for what was important to us. And in that moment, I knew… Diana was desperately important to me. 

“Everything he said was true, you know,” I told her, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets to keep them from reaching for her. 

“Everything I said was true too, Manav,” she smiled, sadly. “But what is your truth?” 

What was my truth? It was buried under so many years of misery, pain, and heartache, would I recognize it even if I found it?





About the Author:

Shilpa Suraj wears many hats - corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.




Contact the Author:
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Newsletter




The American Outsider by Homa Pourasgari

  "A charming read with characters who come to life on the page—and who live for a cause whose urgency shines through the story." ...