Thursday, December 14, 2017

#BerkleyBookmas Excerpt and Giveaway Cross Breed by Lora Leigh



Fang-tastic Books is so excited to participate in Berkley Bookmas and we’re closing out this event with a bang and hosting Cross Breed by Lora Leigh! 

Berkley Bookmas has been chock full of exclusive content from authors like exclusive excerpts, deleted scenes, author recipes and more! 

Check out all the goodies that have been shared these past two weeks here: http://bit.ly/2AaShZF



Cross Breed 
A Novel of the Breeds
Lora Leigh

#1 New York Times bestselling author of the Breeds series delivers the novel fans have been waiting for--mixed Coyote/Wolf Breed Cassie Sinclair finally gets her story!

It's been over a decade since she was introduced as an unforgettable eight-year-old in Elizabeth's Wolf. 

Now all grown up, Cassie is unique among the Breeds as a Coyote/Wolf mix. She has long known that her mate was somehwere out there, but he's stayed frustratingly out of sight and beyond her senses. 

Cassie has decided to make her move and her mate is ready to make his. The Breed world will be rocked to its foundation as dangerous secrets are revealed.


Excerpt:

Prologue


She was only eighteen and she knew would die soon. Here, on this island Seth Lawrence owned, surrounded by the protective strength of a breed force unlike any other, and Cassie knew she would die.
It wouldn’t be tonight though. Not yet. But it was coming.
Stepping past the wide double doors opened into the huge atrium, the glass domed roof allowing the night to slide into the enclosed garden and had to fight back the bitterness. The anger.
Turning she met the gazes of the breed enforcers standing behind her, their gazes resolute, but compassionate, and snapped the doors closed as they watched her silently.
“Ask to enjoy the gardens at night and this is what I get?” she muttered, swinging around to let her gaze go over the massive enclosure of brick and glass surrounding it.
The grass beneath her feet was surprisingly real. A wide stone walk led into the shadowed greenery, the lush, heavy growth and sultry scent of moisture and fragrant blooms pulling her into the depths of it.
The atrium, Seth had called it. It was a damned greenhouse and nothing more. A well protected, stone and bullet resistant glass enclosed room with only one entrance, the wide doors she’d stepped inside.
Moving further into the lush greenery she could find little pleasure in it. Despite her bare feet and the feel of grass beneath them, she found no satisfaction in it. Just as she found no satisfaction in the deep, wide pond trickling in the center of the trees surrounding it.
Heavily leaved, beaded with what appeared to be dew, but actually came from the water that misted from the pipes running along the steel frame supporting the glass above. The scent of the night wasn’t here. The chirp of insects, the scuttle of creatures created to stalk such shadowed beauty wasn’t here. It was sterile. Created by man rather than by nature.
She hated it.
At least on her balcony she could smell the night, the creatures that inhabited and the sea surrounding the Lawrence island. On her balcony there was a chance of sensing him…
Swallowing tightly Cassie eased wearily to sit on the rough, flat boulder bordering the pond, and shed the matching robe covering the thin, long white gown she wore. Drawing her feet up to rest on top of the boulder and looping her arms beneath her knees, she rested her chin on her knees and stared into the trickling water.
What was wrong with her? She knew how dangerous it was to allow herself to stand on the balcony, in clear view, a target to any enemy with the intent to kill her. Though few wanted to kill her. The price on her head was for her abduction, her virginity intact when she was turned over to the scientists secretly working with what remained of the Genetics Council.
She was Cassandra Sinclair. Cassandra Colder. She was unique, not just in her genetics but in her birth. Breed sperm used to inseminate her mother’s egg without any alterations to the ovum. The same as a hybrid, a breed born of a breed and human mating.
But she was even more unique that that. She wasn’t created from a single animal species genetics, but two. She was created from both wolf and coyote genetics. The good and the bad. The wolf dna altered and forever dirtied by that of the coyote dna.
“Such a beautiful animal,” the voice whispered through her memories.
She’d been five, standing in nothing but the white panties she wore, shuddering, sickened by the touch of the bastards fingers on the mark at her shoulder. The shadow of a paw print. A genetic marker. But as she grew older another shadow began marring her flesh, one even her parents were unaware of, one resembling that of a jagged slices made by claws. The mark of the Coyote stained the flesh just over her womb.
“She was created to whelp monsters,” her father sneered as Cassie shook with her tears and disbelief.
A part of her had known he wasn’t her father. Unlike her mother, her father’s scent didn’t resemble her. Her momma’s scent resembled her. And her mother loved her.
“She’ll whelp my little monsters,” Terrance chuckled, lifted his arm and a second later the weapon he carried exploded and her father was dead.
She knew he was dead. He fell to the floor, blood spilling from his chest as he stared at Cassie with hatred.
Thirteen years. It had been thirteen years and still, Cassie remembered every second of it as though it had happened only moments before.
She would whelp monsters. Many said she was the monster.
At that thought she felt the presence. She didn’t smell it, there was no scent to warn her. She felt him. Her heart raced, her breathing was faster, and she could feel the whisper of the air drifting through the room.
What an odd sensation. She’d never felt that before, until him.
“If you’re caught, they’ll kill you.” She didn’t shift, did try to call out to the guards standing outside the doors.
She wasn’t frightened of him, though she sensed she should be. She should be terrified.
“Think they will?” he remained behind her, hidden. And she let him stay hidden, because she didn’t want to know…
“You know they will,” her voice trembled. “Are you here to kill me?”
“Do you want to die?” amusement laced his voice, amusement and something more, something dark and shadowed.
“I’ll die either way.” She stared into the pond, wondering at her own cowardice. “I won’t leave here alive you know?”
Silence met her question, but she knew he heard her, knew he hadn’t left. She could feel him in the air she breathed, in the whisper of movement as he eased closer.
“What makes you so certain of that?” curiosity filled his voice. A voice that was dark, sensual.
“I know things…” Sometimes, she knew terrible things. Things she didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see or sense.
“I won’t let you die, little halfling,” he whispered just behind her, causing her to stiffen at the warmth of his breath at her ear. “You’re mine.”
She stiffened in outrage, in anger but before she could turn and inform him just how insane he was, he was gone.
Wide eyed, her heart racing, she stared at the swaying leaves of the huge ferns behind her and heard a whisper of a chuckle somewhere in the darkness.
“Cassie.” The atrium doors were thrown open her father’s voice echoed through the artificial glade, dark with menace, but not toward her.
His enforcers rushed through the atrium, at least half a dozen, converging on her as she drew her robe on and tied the satin ribbons holding it closed.
“Cassie, sweetheart, I told you stay in our rooms.” Her father, Dash Sinclair, pushed through the foliage, his amber gaze piercing as it went over her. “Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Looking around the silence of the atrium sadly then she knew her time there was finished. “It’s not like I’m actually outside, right?”
He stared behind her, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as though testing the air for any unfamiliar scents.
“Come on, let’s get you back upstairs.” He held his hand out to her, his expression implacable when his gaze returned to hers. “It’s getting late.”
“And of course I’m still a toddler that has no idea how to defend myself, nor do I have gaurds on my ass twenty-four seven.” She ignored his outstretched hand and pushed past him instead. “For God’s sake, dad, I’m not ten.”
She didn’t wait around for his reply or the confusion she knew she would glimpse in his eyes. He couldn’t understand, couldn’t know the hell her dreams were becoming or the anger that clashed through her every waking second.
She was going to die here, soon. So very soon.
If her father had just let her have this time in this place, maybe she could have stolen something for herself. Maybe she could have figured out why the man whose gunsights she felt on the balcony outside her room, didn’t terrify her.
Why he drew her.
Why she ached for his warmth for just a moment, just for tonight. Because tomorrow night would be too late.
She’d be dead.




Giveaway

 $100 Visa gift card, and a book/galley/bound manuscript by each of the authors participating. 




Winter Holiday Extravaganza Hot Shot by S.A. Stolinsky





James Ellroy once said to me, “Go to the museums, the out of the way art galleries, the people in the park, any park, and talk to everyone.  That’s where you’ll get your stories and that’s where you get ideas.” I have no quarrel with that. After I stopped shaking because I was meeting a literary “star” I realized he was interested in the common man, woman, the everyday person whose story was on its face boring, but whose psychological makeup was anything but.

In Hot Shot, my protagonist, Tyler West, is depressed.  He starts out depressed, lonely, unsure of himself, angry, a real Borderline Personality.  He’s tried the drugs, the alcohol, the sex addiction, and now he’s lodged into gambling which turns out to be his worst nightmare yet.

He lost everything.  His girlfriend, his money, his life savings, his friends and almost his family—because there is one woman who still wants to see him---his mother, Sue,  and then I wondered, “Where am I going with this?”  Honestly, the way I write---I start out never knowing where I’m going with a book. I start with an idea and I always know the ending, always the ending.  Like, this one is going to be about gambling.  Okay, okay, what do I know about gambling?  Well, I love Vegas.  I love to watch some cowboy with a gut hanging over his belt, come in wearing a white Stetson hat and sit down at a $10,000 buy in table and literally put down $10,000 dollars!!

I freak out.  I do.  Who lives like that?  My mind goes over all the things I could buy for that much money and why is it so important for this man to chance it all?  Then that leads from one place to another. And then I just tell myself the entire story.  After that, what most of our colleagues call “Panstering” I will do the outline.  Because by then I know the story.

Then chapter one leads to chapter two, and so on. But when I first met the real “Tyler West” the pseudonym for a guy I worked with, I had no idea he was going to end up winning the World Series of Poker.  I mean how many people do that?  Then that led me to researching the book.  Oh, poor me.  I had to go to Las Vegas for a weekend, stay at New York, New York, eat all that glorious food, and wind my way to the Rio where the poker series takes place. 

What an arena---the size of about five football fields with tables bunched up against each other and six chairs to a table and rows upon rows of lighting above.  It’s daunting.  I spoke to some players who had lost, some guards who explained how the series worked and even a winner of three million dollars.

It's always good for me to go anywhere at Christmas time, too.  I love Christmas and as a child, my mother always had a very ornamental tree with gobs of presents under it.  And at an early age I realized, a good novel must have a Christmas or holiday scene, a rain scene, a love scene and a death scene.  Pretty good for a 10-year-old, but those were the stories I liked to read.  Especially Dickens.


I discover along with him what’s going to happen next.  When the book is finished, it’s generally around 315 pages, I re-read it and go where the book takes me. So, let me end by saying, along with your central plot, the added texture of a time and place really enhances a story.

Hot Shot
S.A. Stolinsky

Suspense

November 1, 2016

Book Description:

Payback is a powerful thing...

Actor and bartender, Tyler West experiences a sudden streak of luck -- winning poker games. Determined to change his life, he enters the World Series of Poker. His life is suddenly turned upside down when the Russian mafia fronts him 1.5 million dollars to play at the tables. And then...he loses…

Now on the ride of his life, deceit and deception are his key to uncovering the truth. He must recoup the money, but will it come at a price? Can he stay alive long enough or will his time run out?



About the Author:

Stefanie Stolinsky, Ph.D. is a licensed psychologist and forensic psychologist with a private practice in Beverly Hills, California. She  specializes  in trauma, adults sexually, physically and emotionally abused as children, and PTSD. She is an international speaker and has taught training seminars in overcoming the aftereffects of child abuse. She has also taught licensing examinations to candidates for both marriage, family and child counseling and for the psychology licenses. 

She began her career as an actress in motion pictures, television and stage and created a unique therapy combining acting exercises with psychodynamic psychotherapy to help survivors of all kinds of trauma overcome the aftereffects of abuse. The first edition of "ACT IT OUT" was a top seller for over nine years. A second edition of the popular book was launched in April of this year and is available on Praeclarus Press, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. 

She is also the author of several award-winning short stories including her newest short story anthology, DATE NIGHT, and numerous comedy mystery. Dr. Stolinsky lives with her husband in Los Angeles.





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Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Bite Me Spider by Nora Penn



Bite Me Spider
Nora Penn

Genre: horror, sci-fi, action and adventure

Date of Publication: 11/8/2017

ISBN: 1973231603
ASIN: B076KK5VF4

Number of pages: 205
Word Count: 66785

Cover Artist: Nora Penn

Tagline: An Eight-Legged Nightmare

Book Description:

What would YOU do to save your family? What lengths would you go through to rescue your loved ones from a truly horrible fate? A fate such as being eaten by a pack of giant spiders? This is the question that “Bite Me Spider” asks.

A bona fide page-turner, “Bite Me Spider” combines an outrageous disaster scenario with intense family drama. James Dresden wants the best for his family, including his daughter, Carol, his wife, Hannah, and their unborn child. When Hannah is diagnosed with cancer, the family opts for a radical new treatment, the bite of the genetically modified Black Hermit Spider. Although Hannah is cured there is a terrible cost: an invasion of giant spiders that threatens every living thing on the planet. To save his family, James must face the scuttling menace head on. He must perform deeds that would put weaker men in the madhouse.

Buckle up, horror fans. “Bite Me Spider” puts YOU, the reader, in the driver’s seat, allowing you to experience the terror, the tension, the madness, the mayhem, and the tiny moments of salvation, that are part and parcel of surviving in a world overrun by spiders.

The question remains. If all hell broke loose, what would you do to save your family? Read “Bite Me Spider” and find out.



Amazon CA      Amazon US      Amazon UK

Excerpt:

Sonja could barely see the road ahead for all the tears in her eyes. She had been driving for half an hour and had been crying for the entire time. It wasn’t a sobbing, heaving cry, like one might expect of a woman who had moments ago been widowed of her husband of fifty years. Rather it was a steady, unceasing flow, as if she were a fountain filled with pure grief. At some point she stopped wiping the tears from her face and simply let them run down her cheeks.
As she drove along 95 South her mind replayed a hit parade of memories of her and Bill. These memories went back to when they had first met, all the way back through their time dating and then getting married, their raising their children, and then their children’s children, and then living in the lighthouse and fighting off the giant spiders for their survival. As the old woman reminisced she was painfully aware of a hollow place in her soul. It was the place in her life that her husband had occupied. It was more than a hole. It was another half of her that had gone missing. No, not gone missing. This half of her had been ripped away. And as sure as up is up and down is down, Sonja knew that she would never be the same now that the love of her life was gone.
The only thing keeping the old woman going at that point was her mission. Her sanity hinged on the fact that she was entrusted with saving Carol’s life. In a strange way she was grateful for the task. If she, Sonja, could play a role in saving the child, she thought to herself, she could shuffle off this mortal coil knowing that she had done one last good deed. It occurred to her then that once she had caught up with James and Carol and informed them about the true nature of the spider’s bite, she could simply drive her car off the road and let herself be reunited with her husband in heaven.
Because her emotions were so chaotic and her thoughts so scattered, and her eyes so misty with tears, Sonja’s driving was extremely erratic. On several occasions she had almost driven off the road and only managed to save herself by swerving back at the very last moment. Compounding the danger was the fact that she was speeding along at 90 miles per hour. Having a highway that was empty of cars (except for the occasional abandoned vehicle) had given her a false sense of safety. What’s more, she figured that James would be driving fast and she deduced that if she was to catch him she would have to drive even faster.
As she drove she remained just aware enough to keep on the lookout for spiders. The eight-legged bastards had a habit of suddenly scuttling out in front of vehicles. Back when the spiders were no larger than squirrels this was more of a nuisance than a real danger, but now that the spiders were as big as bulls they posed a far more serious threat. But as fate would have it, she hadn’t seen any thus far.
The unexplained growth of the spiders since the beginning of the spider apocalypse meant that survivors like Sonja had grown accustomed to looking for the larger specimens, as they posed the most obvious danger. But the fact that is that there were still plenty of smaller spiders creeping about, such as those that had hatched inside of her husband. As if further evidence of the danger of the smaller spiders was needed, a normal-sized Black Hermit Spider was crawling up the back of Sonja’s chair as she drove.
“I’m going to make you proud, Bill,” Sonja said out loud and sniffed. “I know you would want me to help these kids. Just like we would help our own kids.”
The Black Hermit Spider put its finger-like legs over the top of Sonja’s chair. When the creature saw the exposed neck of the female human, its eyes gleamed with a terrible malevolence.
Sonja’s thoughts turned to her children and her grandchildren, especially Dylan, who was her favorite. She hadn’t heard news of him since the spider apocalypse began, but she had a feeling that he was still alive. He was such a hearty soul – a lot like this James fellow – and he would certainly put up a fight. If anyone could survive the spider apocalypse and start building civilization afresh, Dylan was the one.
Sonja snapped out of her reverie just in time to turn the wheel and follow the curve of the highway. The tires squealed but she was oblivious to the danger. Instead of slowing down to a more reasonable pace, she pressed the gas pedal down further. The car was going so fast the frame of the vehicle began to shake.
The Black Hermit Spider, meanwhile, put its legs over the ridge of Sonja’s collar. The creature was about the size of a human hand, and just as heavy. If Sonja had been thinking clearly she would have felt the weight on the back of her shirt. But she was too lost in her thoughts to notice.
“Wherever you are, Dylan. I hope you’re well. I hope you know your grandmother loves you. If you’re up in Heaven, then I hope you’re with your grandfather. And if you’re still here on Earth, I hope I see you again someday.”
The spider’s fangs were hovering over the exposed flesh of the back of Sonja’s neck. As she wrapped up her tearful soliloquy, the spider drove its fangs into her skin. Sonja winced as she felt the needle-like projections burrow into her flesh. There was a sharp sting and then a powerful numbness as the poison was injected into her system.
At first the numbness was uncomfortable, but then it spread out like rays of sunshine freed from behind a passing cloud. Instead of feeling heavy she began to feel light.
“I love you Dylan. And I love you Bill. I hope I’ll see you both again someday in Heaven.”
Sonja closed her eyes. A spasm passed through her body and her spine stiffened, causing her legs to extend and her foot to press the gas pedal to the floor of the car. The vehicle shot forward like a rocket, crossing the highway at a sharp angle and smashing through a partition. On the other side of the partition was a deep ditch waiting to accept the plummeting vehicle. But this isn’t what Sonja saw.
What Sonja saw was a multitude of faces. The faces belonged to everyone she had known in life, going back to when she was a child. They were all smiling at her as if she had just walked into a surprise birthday party being thrown in her honor. Behind the familiar faces was a bright light and inside this bright light was her husband Bill, who looked just as happy to see her as the rest. He held out his arms to her. Sonja was suddenly no longer in the car. She was in her husband’s arms. And in her husband’s arms she would stay.



About the Author:

Nora Penn writes fast-paced horror novels with strong, relatable characters.
Her favorite authors are Dean Koontz and Stephen King.

She released her first novel, Bite Me Spider, in November of 2017.

She lives in New Hampshire with her husband, who endures her various idiosyncrasies in return for being the first to read her new novels. They welcomed their first child, a daughter, on September 11, 2015.

If you don't want to miss any Nora Penn news, you can:

Like Nora Penn’s Facebook page: https://facebook.com/NoraPennWrites

Follow Nora Penn on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NoraPennWrites

For more, please visit: https://norapenn.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17253678.Nora_Penn


Tour Giveaway

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A Path Through by Janna Olsen Spratt


A Path Through
Janna Olsen Spratt

Genre: Memoirs/Biography

Publisher: Book Venture Publishing LLC

Date of Publication: 08/21/2017

ISBN: 978-1-64069-799-7

Number of pages: 106

Book Description:

In this tribute to the faithfulness of God, the author shows the thread woven through everything from the car accident they walked away from which totaled the car to the last chapter of finding purpose in the pain of being alone. This is a story of overcoming poverty, early marriage, divorce and finding love a second time around. It’s a story of a parent’s tenacity in prayer for a wayward child and of holding on to faith when a seventeen year old grandson dies suddenly at school.

God promised He would take us through the trials.



Excerpt:

Little did I know as I packed my books in February that I would unpack them two months later. And as I prayed for the Lord to lead us to where we should go, I did not know that my husband, Larry, and I would not be going to the same place.
We were planning to move back to the Abbotsford, Langley, area in BC where we had lived some twelve years earlier. It all started with a conversation over lunch with Dwayne and Maureen, our son and our daughter-in-law. We were talking about seniors’ housing being in short supply and that it might be a good idea for us to think about where we would like to live and putting our name into some places.
Our plan was to move back to the coast into an apartment, and from there we could decide which seniors’ housing would be the right place for us to make an application for. We needed to look for an apartment there, so we decided we would drive to Surrey to visit our son, Dustin, and his family, and from there we would search.
Larry would be eighty years old on March 4, and we could celebrate his birthday as well as look for a place at the same time. Our children planned a big party with our family and friends. This was a milestone for Larry because his life had nearly been cut short a few times before this, and making it this far was somewhat of a miracle.
Someone has said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” We were praying about what we should do, and it seemed to us that this was a way to test the waters. We left Castlegar the morning of March
1. Our plan was to travel halfway, stay overnight at Princeton, and finish the trip the next day.
We would be traveling through mountain passes which could have snow on the highway, so we wanted to give ourselves lots of time. Larry was a truck driver with more than three million miles behind him, so he was not too concerned about driving.
Although there was quite a bit of snow in the first pass, we made good time, arriving in Princeton early in the afternoon. The next morning after breakfast, we set out for the final part of our trip. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we felt good about the trip thus far.
There was quite a lot of snow on the Hope-Princeton Highway, but
Larry was not concerned. Our 2008 Toyota seemed to handle the road conditions well. When we passed the Hope turnoff and began the divided freeway with two lanes going each way, we felt we had it made. The worst was over!
We passed a semi and were still in the left lane when suddenly the left front wheel got caught in a deep pothole. Larry struggled desperately to keep the car on the road, but it seemed as if a force stronger than him wrenched the wheel out of his hands, and we were immediately airborne.
I called out, “Lord, help us,” as the car flew off the road into the median which was full of snow.
Everything happened so fast; it seemed as if we were watching a movie, spellbound. We sat there with our seat belts on while the car careened crazily down the embankment, spinning around and doing donuts and other turns. As we spun around, there was a lot of snow going across the windshield. The back end of the car slammed into the snowbank as we fishtailed, and the trunk opened, spilling suitcases and some of the other contents.
As the car was spinning and slamming into banks, the big back window smashed in, as well as the backside windows. The backseat was filled with snow. My glasses flew off and were later found in the snow in the backseat, and my left hearing aid flew out and was later found on the dash.
At one point we started to climb the bank toward the traffic on the eastbound side, but it was a steep incline, and we were kept from going there. For one second I saw it, I thought we might go into it; but instead the car rolled back, turned, and came to rest on its right side on two wheels leaning against a snow-covered bank. Larry had to brace himself with his feet in order not to fall down on me.
In the midst of all this turmoil, we sat there with our seat belts on.
Strangely, we felt protected. The front window did not even have a crack in it, the front side windows were untouched, and the air bags did not deploy.
We were not seriously injured.
I reached for my cell phone, began dialing 911, and then a man was standing there, peering in the front window, asking if we were all right.
We shouted we were okay. Just then two RCMP officers appeared. They were traveling by and saw what happened. One of them had been headed west, and the other one was headed east. Coincidence?
A truck driver had stopped and come to help, as well as some other men. There were at least six men there. When we said we were all right, with us still in the car, they put the car back on four wheels. They opened the doors and helped us out of the car, asking again and again, “Are you sure you are all right?” We assured them we were a little shaken but otherwise all right.
We each had two men, one on each side, holding on to us as we trudged through the deep snow across the median and up the bank to the highway. We waited in the police car until the ambulance came. After the paramedics checked us out and the police took our statements, we were taken to the Fraser Canyon Hospital at Hope, British Columbia, for further examination.

Besides being shaken up, Larry had some cuts on his hands and arms which were quickly bandaged. The cuts were probably from the shattered glass when the back windows smashed. I had a black eye. I must have banged my head on the window frame, although I did not remember just when it happened.

About the Author:

Janna Spratt is the author of a collection of poetry, QUIET REFLECTIONS, and two children’s books; BILLY GOAT AND THE RED NECKERCHIEF and FUN AT NANA’S HOUSE. After she was widowed in 2011, she found a passion for life in writing. This fourth book is her story of faith in God that does not quit in spite of the challenges that come. Her goal is to realize her God given purpose in life and to live it to the best of her ability.




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Monday, December 11, 2017

Holiday Giveaway from Stephanie Marks



Win a bundle of 10 amazing urban fantasy and 
paranormal romance novels 
from some of today's bestselling authors. 


Plus EVERY contest entrant will win a free ebook. 




Enter at These Sites December 4-11

December 4 Saph’s Books

December 4 Ramblings of a Book Nerd

December 4 Mello and June, It's a Book Thang!

December 4 The Book Junkie Reads

December 5 Silver Dagger Scriptorium

December 5 Ramblings of a Coffee Addicted Writer

December 5 3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, and Sissy, Too!

December 5 Reads 2 Love

December 6 T's Stuff

December 6 Don't Judge, Read

December 6 Ogitchida Kwe's Book Blog      

December 7 Lisa's Loves(Books of Course)

December 7 Supernatural Central

December 7 Literary Musings   

December 7 SImply Kelina       
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December 8 Lisa-Queen of Random   
http://www.Lisas2900.blogspot.com            

December 8 Boundless Book Reviews

December 8 Books, Dreams,Life

December 8 Lisa’s World of Books
         
December 11 Roxanne’s Realm

December 11 Fang-tastic Books

December 11 Paranormalists

December 11 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

 
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