Sunday, 23 July 2017

Review for Howl (Caged Trilogy Book 3) by H.G. Lynch: ★★★★

Howl (Caged Trilogy Book 3)Howl by H.G. Lynch

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


::..Reviewed for Red's Midnight Readers..::

I was kindly given an ARC in exchange for an honest review. I have given it 3.5 stars.

This is one hell of an action packed conclusion. H.G Lynch has kept the momentum going through book two and into Howl. We are literally thrown into the mix as this trilogy reaches it's epic finale.

It's jam packed with action and suspense, boiling over with suspense as Tilly learns a few unexpected things home truths about herself. The twists and turns will keep you on the edge of your seat. So if you enjoyed the previous 2 books, why not 1-click this?




Blurb
Having left the pack behind, Tilly and Spencer, along with Desmond and his boyfriend, must seek new territory and a new home. 
With Halloween fast approaching, the certainty that Arakael would return on the night that the veil between worlds is thinnest looms in all of their minds. 
Tilly struggles with her new lycanthropy, and discovers more about herself and her family than she ever wanted to know. 
With secrets being revealed and relationships tested, they're going to have to come together to survive their biggest battle yet.




Buy Now
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Review for Fight (Caged Trilogy #2) by H.G. Lynch: ★★★★

Fight (Caged Trilogy #2)Fight by H.G. Lynch

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


::..Reviewed for Red's Midnight Readers..::

I was kindly provided with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. I have given it 3.5 stars.

Fight is the second book in a trilogy and I couldn't wait to dive in after the cliffhanger in book one. Fight picks up right after the cliffhanger and we start to get a feel for what the characters have been going through. Let me tell you, it's not pretty!

I feel that Fight is so much better than the first book, the author seemed to really find her stride with this book and kept the book moving along at a very nice pace. There was lots of nail biting drama to keep me on edge and we get to delve deeper into the characters, as questions are answered and more questions are raised.

I only had a few minor issues with this book.
1. The over use of the action "flinch". It was used a lot!! Once I started noticing it, I couldn't stop.

2. Tilly's constant pity party for one. She really needs to grow a backbone.

I enjoyed the supernatural elements and all of the little twists and turns that kept things fresh and interesting. This is very much suited to the younger adult generation.


Blurb
Tilly and Dominic are prisoners of the witches, and Spencer will do anything to rescue them, even as his dreaded wedding day gets nearer.
What he doesn't know, is there's a traitor in their midst, and she's determined to make him hers.
With her eighteenth birthday approaching, Tilly is in serious danger of becoming host to a demon, while Dominic suffers every time she leaves his side.
Time is running out for all of them, and the only way any of them will make it is if they fight.


Buy Now
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***Cover Reveal*** FINNGARICK by Victoria Danann

FINNGARICK
Black Swan D.I.T., book 2

by Victoria Danann
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Designer: Victoria Danann






“When it came to my attention that D.I.T. was going to Dublin, I thought of Torn Finngarick. After all he knew the culture and could, perhaps, be useful. I confess to the ulterior motive of wanting to see all the floaters brought in from the cold. He was one of the remaining few. And everybody deserves another chance. Right?


As I mentioned earlier, my wife was working for Black Swan setting up a unit called Department of Interdimensional Trespass. It seemed that creatures coming and going at will were causing havoc that had, until recently, been unexplained, believed to be fiction of the myth or folklore variety, or dismissed as interplanetary visitations. Rosie was busy hiring and training people who were going to function as police.


Anyway, I had served with Sir Finngarick when I was first knighted as the fourth member of the infamous Z Team and came to know him quite well. Most believed he was irredeemable. I did not.”
Glendennon Catch, Sovereign, Jefferson Unit





When they transferred onto the larger Black Swan jet in Edinburgh, en route to Buenos Aires, Torn gave Raif a look that said, “We have arrived.” He then proceeded to flirt with the flight attendant for most of the trip. Not that his attention wasn’t welcome. Finngarick seemed to ooze sex from his pores when he turned his charm in the direction of a target.


Of course he was a healthy male elf interested in the physical expression of all that it means to be that, but there was also an element of satisfaction in having his choice of females, given the damage done by the profound social rejection of his developmental years.


Raif’s eyes were closed, but he was smiling.


“Do no’ be feignin’ sleep, boyo. I see you’re livin’ vicariously and perhaps learnin’ a trick or two about interactin’ with the fairer sex.”


Raif cocked an eye open. “You mean pie in the sky?”


“Her name is Amanda.”


“Is it now?”


“’Tis. She might like you better if you gave yourself half a chance. You have the whole exotic look thing goin’ on.”


Raif opened both eyes and cocked a brow. “Exotic look thing? So now you’re attracted to me as well? Or maybe it’s instead. You bi, Torn? I think I should know before I throw in with you as partner. It’s a big step.”


“Great Paddy. You can actually speak words with multiple syllables. Who knew?”


“Interesting. An evasion rather than an answer.”


“No,” Torn chuckled. “I’m no’ bi. No’ even the least little. But I’m no’ blind. You’re good lookin’ enough for a human.”


“Thanks,” Raid said drily.


“All you’d need to interest women is to be interested in them. Hey. For that matter, between the two of us, seems more likely that you’re the one most likely to like guys.” Amanda swished up and set drinks down for each of them, lips twitching surreptitiously at the bit of conversation she overheard. “Hey, Amanda. Do you no’ find my friend here attractive?”


Amanda looked Raif over, while he flushed at the unwanted scrutiny. “Yes. Handsome.”


Torn barked out a laugh. “See!” he almost shouted to Raif. “Aren’t you going to at least say thank you to the woman?”


Amanda hesitated for a second, but when she saw that Raif was busy glaring at Torn, she went about her business.


Once she was gone, Raif said, “That was embarrassing, you freckle-faced fucker.”


Torn gaped. “How is it embarrassin’ to be called handsome by a beautiful woman?”


“Because you put her on the spot. What was she going to say? ‘That guy? Fuck no. He’s hideous. Why would you embarrass him and me by asking that question?’”


Finngarick shook his head. “Dude.”


“Don’t call me dude.”


“Why no’?”


“For one thing it sounds ridiculous with your Irish accent.”


“Does it? Let’s call Amanda and ask her what she thinks about my accent.” When Torn looked toward the galley, Raif threw a rolled up magazine at Torn’s head. Laughing, Finngarick said, “So you’re checking the undecided box again.”


After a few minutes, Finngarick nudged Nighsong. “How’s your Spanish?”


“S’okay. Why?”


“Why do you think? Because that’s what they speak in Buenos Aires.”


“Don’t worry about it. We’re not going to talk to vampire before we stake them.”


“Aye. ‘Tis true enough. But I’m thinkin’ more about after hours activities.”


Raif reopened one eye. “Girls. You mean girls. Do you ever think about anything else?”


“’Course. But I am a healthy young elf with a healthy young…”


“Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Young. Dumb. Full of come.”


“You’d better leave the poetry to the Irish. And I resent bein’ called dumb. Who helped you through calculus?”


“Do not get me started on fucking calculus. What a colossal waste of a person’s time and energy? Do you believe we’re ever going to use calculus as vampire hunters?” Torn opened his mouth to speak, but Raif was on a tear. “No. We are not.”


“What has gotten into you? Is the cabin pressure pushin’ words out of your mouth that have just been lyin’ dormant for years waitin’ to be released?”


“Funny.”


“One word. Two syllables. That’s more like it.”


“Maybe I didn’t have anything to say before now.”


“Who are you?”


Raif offered up a shit eating grin. “I’m your fucking partner, soon-to-be Sir Finngarick.”


It was the first time Torn had ever heard his name paired with the honorific ‘Sir’. It sobered him for a second, but not longer.


“Aye. You are. Even if you become a nonstop jabber jaws.” Raif grunted. “That’s my man.”







SIMON SAYS
D.I.T., book 1


Simon Tvelgar wasn’t always the staid and steady director of the Order of the Black Swan headquarters in Edinburgh who manages the most unruly congregation of talented misfits ever assembled into one organization.


No. He was once a young, beautiful, athletically gifted knight, wild and lustful as any, until he fell in love with a Scottish fae girl who on bereavement leave. He lost her to the stones of the Orkneys as they picnicked there on Lammas twenty years before. She was swallowed up and faded from view, a look of panic on her face as she reached for him while her mouth silently formed his name. He lunged to grab her, but she was simply gone.


Year after year he traveled back to the Orkney Islands and talked to locals, but Shivaun was never seen again. Simon channeled his sorrow and loneliness into work until he eventually rose to the highest position open to an ex Black Swan knight.


Now, for the first time, he thinks there might be someone who could find Shivaun. Rosie Storm.


This novella introduces a new Black Swan series, D.I.T., Department of Interdimensional Trespass.





Victoria Danann is the New York Times bestselling author of twenty romances. For the past four years in a row, Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series have won prestigious Reviewers' Choice Awards for both BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR. This past year three of her series and three of her novels were nominated. Two of her series took the top two places and two of her books took first and second place in the PNR Novel of the Year category.


In addition to vampire hunting knights, Victoria writes other paranormal romance, scifi, fantasy, and contemporary romance.


Victoria co-hosts the popular ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PAGES podcast which can be found on itunes or at → www.romancecast.com


Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon ✯ Facebook ✯ Street Team ✯ Newsletter ✯ Pinterest




***Promo Tour*** PATRICIA CHARLES

PROMO TOUR FOR PATRICIA CHARLES
Unconditional Surrender & Crescent Moon

UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER




Genre: Contemporary Romance with Military Elements


Nothing could drag Kristen McConnell back to re-enacting. Nothing, except the wedding of her best friend. Maybe Creed Graham wouldn’t attend the 150th Battle of the Wilderness. Maybe she wouldn’t see him even if he was.


When Creed discovered Civil War reenacting, he knew it held everything he loved: history, horses, sleeping under the stars, guys drinking beer by the campfire. There was nothing better. Then he met Kirsten McConnell. And she ruined everything for him.


The Wilderness held his salvation. He knew she would return after three long years. This time he would erase her from his heart for good.


While the Battle of the Wilderness rages in explosions of cannon fire, Kirsten can no longer avoid Creed. Will they continue their war or will there be an Unconditional Surrender?








Where else in the entire world but at a reenactment could one cross the lines of history, camp near a forest and go shopping at the same time? She marveled at the people in period clothing as they browsed through the shops—a 19th century shopping mall made of canvas tents. Thousands of men, women and children wandered through the tents for items made especially for reenactors.


The sounds of approaching horses jarred her attention from the earrings. Her hands trembled so much she dropped the jewelry back into the case.


Just because there were cavalry, didn’t mean Creed would be riding with them. Maybe he hadn’t even come, Kirsten rationalized. Perhaps he gave up reenacting long ago.


But as the pounding hooves on the dirt road grew closer, her heart mimicked their thunder. She wiped the perspiration from her quivering hands onto her skirt.


Get it over with. You’ll be anticipating him to be on every horse you hear or see. On the other hand, if she could avoid him for the weekend, she wouldn’t have to address the problems that plagued her so long.


Yet, if she came face-to-face with him again, she might be disappointed. Could it be that only his memory caused her heart to flutter? Impulse drove her to the edge of the sutler’s tent. Hiding behind the rows of Confederate butternut jackets hanging at the edge of the tent so he wouldn’t see her, she peeked over the clothes as the tide of Yankee blue surged upon her. She glanced from face to face, searching for the one who made her anticipating heart threaten to burst from her body.


The snake-like column drew to an end. No Creed. Relief overcame curiosity, and she glided from her hiding place.


Then, as if the devil played with her heart, he appeared at the tail of the procession. Their eyes met. He squinted through the dust at her. Beneath his slouch hat, a frown creased his forehead, and his teeth clenched.


Recognition. Yes, he recognized her, and she recognized something also. If she ever doubted, she appreciated that he was still the most handsome man in the world, at least to her. Steeling herself, Kirsten faced the man she would love forever.


As he neared, she recalled his tousled hair when he woke at her side and how his original declaration of love caused her to sob so hard she couldn’t answer. Most of all, she remembered the look in his eyes as they glowed with desire.


Yet today was different, not just because they already had loved each other or because he proposed and she accepted. Her heart still trembled as it had every time she looked at him, but today was different mainly because a young boy, perhaps two years old, sat before him on the saddle. The child was a close duplicate of Creed from his black hair covered with a Yankee kepi to the boots on his tiny feet. He looked up at Creed with a smile and adoration.







CRESCENT MOON

Genre: Romantic Suspense


Sinner or saint?


When Celine St. Pierre is murdered under the canopy of oaks on St. Charles Avenue, questions arise about this New Orleans sainted woman, and Assistant District Attorney Claressa Dupré vows to find the answers. Top of her list of suspects is the sexy Texan, West Morgan, IV.


Wealthy oil baron Weston Morgan, IV, arrived in New Orleans on a mission to return to Texas what Celine St. Pierre stole from him and his family. But the woman’s death throws a monkey wrench in the works and pins him as the top suspect in the murder investigation. Further complicating his life is the beautiful but determined Clarissa Dupré, whom he can’t seem to get close enough to or far enough from.


As the investigation spirals out of control, Clarissa and Morgan find that nothing is simple in The Big Easy.





The evidence against West Morgan in Celine St. Pierre’s death practically stuffed the valise she carried. Yet she lacked the most important: motive. Why had Morgan come to New Orleans? Why had he killed Celine? What circumstances had driven him to murder? Not that she needed a motive, but she’d learned juries preferred it.


Astonishingly, his attorneys had asked to meet with her.


“Mr. Morgan.” She glanced up from her notes. Eyes cold, calculating, and conceited gazed back at her through hooded lids. Celine St. Pierre hadn’t stood a chance.


“I only have a few questions.”


“Take all the time you need,” he answered. “I’ve nothing else on my agenda today.”


“Why did you kill Celine St. Pierre?”


“I didn’t.”


“Didn’t you?” She glanced at the three attorneys, and suddenly she envisioned the three monkeys: see, hear, and speak no evil. “Then prove it to me.”


Removing the Stetson, he threaded his fingers through his hair. “Hell, Honey, I don’t have to. Remember? I’m innocent until you prove otherwise.”


Honey? She’d worked long and hard to get where she was. No one called her, “Honey.”


His hand was on the doorknob.


“Mr. Morgan, you agreed to answer some questions.”


After several anxious moments, Morgan shrugged off his attorney’s instructions not to answer. “Ask away.”


Glancing back at the note pad where she had listed the questions, she proceeded. “Why did you sell more than half of your assets before you came to New Orleans?”


He sat in the hard wooden chair at the end of the table, like a corporate giant ruling his boardroom. Crossing one leg over the other, he rested his ankle on his knee and his Stetson on the table. His long legs appeared to go on forever.


She asked again, “Why did you sell off your assets?”


“Ask my accountant.”


“I have.” She waited, hoping he would reply. Nothing.


“Why did you put all of it into checking accounts?”


“I’ve been to New Orleans before,” he said, and Claressa inched forward, anticipating his answer, the last puzzle piece. “Knowing your city’s reputation, I didn’t want to carry that much cash on me.”


Smart aleck. “And why would you need that much money during your visit?” At least this cowboy didn’t spurt four-letter words at her. Or lunge for her throat. Not yet, anyway.


Thankful for the civil atmosphere, she took a deep breath and a different route. “How long have you known Celine St. Pierre?”


No response.


“Mr. Morgan . . . “


“West.”


“Mr. Morgan, why did you kill Mrs. St. Pierre?”


He shot forward so quickly that Claressa jerked back. West leaned as far as possible over the wide table and demanded, “Look at me.”


She tilted her chin defiantly, met his gaze, and tried to seem undisturbed.


“I’m successful. I’m rich. Why would I have to kill someone?”


“Rich people kill all the time. Don’t you read the news? Why would you kill Mrs. St. Pierre? What’s the connection?”







Patricia Charles remembers going to the public library when she was a small child. The library was only a block away. Because she was too young to cross the street alone, her older brother reluctantly volunteered to take her. Of course, she wouldn’t let him carry her books. She was a big girl. She had so many books she had to balance them with her chin, and she cried when she had to return them. Books have been in her life as long as she can remember.


Her love of books eventually lead her to the theatre. She has a Master’s of Arts in Drama and Communication and a Master’s of Library and Information Sciences. Naturally, she is a librarian, a medical librarian.


She is a member of the Romance Writers of American, Southern Louisiana Chapter of RWA and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. In 2013, she won Best Historical and Highest Overall Score in the Dixie Kane Contest.


Patricia lives on the Gulf Coast, having moved there from New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Frodo, her large 16-pound Pomeranian, likes to lick her feet while she writes.




Saturday, 22 July 2017

***New Release*** Sinner by Jackie Wang

Title: Sinner
Series: A Northbridge Nights Novel
Author: Jackie Wang
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Mystery
Release Date: July 22, 2017


First, he broke my heart. Then, he ripped it out of my chest.

Fifteen years ago, Beckett Longstead broke up with me, then disappeared.

One stormy night, he shows up at my doorstep bloodied and bruised, begging me for help.

I should’ve shut the door in his face. Should’ve left him to bleed.

But instead, I take him in and fix him, just like when we were teenagers.

Beckett has secrets, though, and everything about him screams guilt.

He’s hiding something terrible, but he won’t tell me what.

He claims he can’t remember. That he has amnesia.

He’s sick, plagued by nightmares, and his memory loss troubles me.

But he’s got no one else. 

So against my better judgment, I welcome him into my home, and back into my vulnerable heart.

Little did I know, his sins would destroy us. 

Little did I know, his secrets would ruin everything.








When I think about his broken face, I can hardly breathe.

I’m worried that if I exhale, he will be gone forever. 

An overexposed photograph in my disjointed mental album.

Why can’t I rearrange that night’s events, put them in order?

I can remember the texture of his rough hands, the way they squeezed my shoulder that day. 

Hard enough to hurt.

But I can’t see his eyes anymore. They’ve been replaced by cruel black holes.

“Beckett, let me go.”

He had been miserable and trapped, but at least he’d been safe.

I thought I was offering him freedom, but I was wrong. 

So fucking wrong.

When I think about the years I spent loving him, nurturing him, living with him, I’d trade everything I had for an extra hour.

An hour where we’d read silently, side by side, until his tired head lolled and rested on my shoulder.

Just like old times.

Then I’d watch his fragile chest shudder as he struggled to breathe, and think about how grateful I was to have met him.

How grateful I was that he saved me and breathed life into an orphan who should’ve floundered, but thrived instead.

How grateful I was that for a few precious years, when it was just him and me, I was sublimely happy.

When I think about all the blood and tears, all the hissing and all that warped metal, I know I’ll burn in hell with all the other sinners.

And I’d welcome its gaping maw with open arms and thank God for punishing me.

But instead of casting me through the gates of Hell, God played a cruel trick on me.

He made me forget everything. He made me forget all my sins.

Then, He reunited me with my first love, and gave me a glimpse of hope, a taste of renewed happiness.

Only to take it all away a few weeks later, and ruin me all over again.












JACKIE WANG lives in Vancouver, Canada with her real-life alpha hero and their rambunctious daughter. When she’s not writing, Jackie is binge-reading, gorging on expensive chocolates, or fiddling around with Photoshop.






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