Thursday, December 19, 2013

Release Day Blitz: Stealing Promises by Brina Courtney

Today is the release day of Stealing Promises by Brina Courtney!

Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance

 Promises are made to be kept, never stolen. But that’s exactly what happened to Victoria Blane and Levi Manor. Tragedy strikes their perfect relationship leaving Victoria struggling to overcome the darkness that threatens to bury her.
With Victoria’s life in tatters she decides that running away is easier than dealing with her troubles. But when a friend finds her on the floor in her kitchen, she knows it’s time for a change.
Brighton Hanley knows what it’s like to lose someone. He knows what it’s like to be haunted by things that can never change. When he meets Victoria he recognizes the pain she’s trying to bury deep in her eyes. He knows she’s trying to run away, but he also knows that you can’t run forever.
Victoria is drawn to Brighton in ways she never expected. He becomes her champion, her life line… her sunshine in the darkness. But is Victoria ready to let go of the past and grab on to her future? Or will she run away from Brighton before she can be hurt again?

The next morning Victoria was surprised to find it drizzling outside. She snuggled further under the quilt but when she reached over for Levi, he wasn’t there. She groggily opened her eyes and started to sit up looking for him, but he wasn’t inside the small cabin.
Wrapping the quilt around her body she shuffled over to the window to look out and see Levi rearranging some things in the truck. She opened it slightly and called out to him, “Morning, did you have breakfast yet?”

He waved back at her, there was mud down his jeans but he looked relaxed and almost cheerful. “No not yet. I’m trying to get down to the main house to get us some, it was included with our stay. God damn truck is stuck in the mud.”

Victoria sighed deeply, so much for getting to see the small town that was close by. “Well I packed some snacks.”
He smiled back at her and shrugged his shoulders and walked into the cabin taking off his muddy boots upon arrival.  He walked over to Victoria and delivered a light kiss on the cheek, “How did I get so lucky?”

She smiled back at him devilishly, “Can’t tell ya. So what’s the grand plan for today vacation planner?”
He laughed at her teasing, “You’ll just have to wait and see won’t you?”

She set her lips into a thin line, Victoria didn’t like surprises very much.

“Don’t worry about it. Just eat your granola bar.”
After they ate and Victoria had gotten dressed Levi led her to the back of the cabin to a small trail. “I think you’re really going to enjoy this.”
They walked through the cool spring air while trees shed sprinkles on them. They walked in silence, hand-in-hand over small rocks and twigs, through the mud until Victoria finally heard rushing water. “Is that a waterfall?”
Levi smiled at her. “Nope. I did you one better.”
As they continued to walk they came upon a clearing with a small hot spring receded into the ground. There were rocks set up around it clearly put there by nature while others had been moved by people to keep clothes dry and supplies away from the steam. Victoria smiled and pushed Levi playfully. “You know I didn’t bring a bathing suit!”
Levi kissed her on the lips pushing his body against hers, “Of course I know that.” He quickly began to strip, taking his hoodie and shirt off in a flash. Victoria watched with interested eyes as he turned to her, his tanned muscles rippling beneath the light rain. He walked over to her and wrapped his hands around her body to bring her closer. “You’re going to join me, right?”  He whispered hotly in her ear.

About Brina Courtney


Brina Courtney is a new adult author obsessed with chocolate, crime shows, and fantasy movies. She’s spent the last few years as an elementary teacher and a high school cheering coach. She lives in a small town in Pennsylvania with her husband and two very loud, small dogs.


Sunday, December 15, 2013

Twisted (Deathwind Trilogy #1) by Holly Hook Release Day

Today is the release day of Twisted (Deathwind Triolgy #1) by Holly Hook!

Sixteen-year-old Allie isn’t like other girls. Instead of spending her summer break sitting around on the beach, she takes the epic vacation of a lifetime.

Tornado chasing.

And she’s not disappointed. Just a few miles from the town of Evansburg, Nebraska, Allie meets her dream of seeing a tornado. In person. She can’t wait to tell her friends back home. Never mind that her parents are going to kill her.

But her dream soon turns into a nightmare, and a strange event leaves her shocked. Confused. When she returns home to Wisconsin, something’s…different. Allie now bears a curse so awful, it could destroy everyone and everything she’s ever known.

With her best friend, Tommy, Allie must return to the plains to find a way to reverse it. She enters a world that she had never imagined, where she becomes a pawn in a fight to save the people of Evansburg from her fate…or to destroy them.

My very first tornado touches the grass of the plains. 
I stand next to the van, mouth dropping open, heart pounding.  It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for, saved money for, begged my uncle to book us for the Wild Weather Storm Chasing Tours for.
Uncle Cassius swears next to me, equally in awe.  It barely cuts over the wind rushing towards the distant funnel.  Waves of grass bow down to the twister, whipped down by the surrounding air flying in to feed it.  The perfect white cone stands out against the coal sky, slim and graceful.  A skirt of dust spins around its base, signaling its dance through a field a few miles away. 
“Beautiful!”  Kyle, our storm chaser guide, snaps a photo for his website.  He steals a glance at me and smiles.  He’s all enthusiasm, joy that we’ve found our prey. “Don’t worry.  We’re safe.  It’s heading to the east.  It’ll pass no closer than a couple of miles to our north.” 
I want his job someday. 
“I’m not scared,” I said, but my shaky voice betrays me.  Who am I kidding?  Kyle’s an experienced chaser–twenty years–but this is a real tornado.  In person.  Live.  I never realized it would be this intense, this breathtaking.  A hollow feeling fills my stomach like I’m plunging down the first hill of a roller coaster. 
The tornado curves, almost like it’s leaning to the side for a better look at something.  At us?  It’s a silly thought, one that makes me laugh.  The thunderstorm spins slowly above it, low and menacing.  Thunder claps.  It’s enough to remind me that the storm in front of me isn’t just beautiful.  It’s a predator, entrancing like a cobra and ready to strike. 
Good thing there’s no houses or buildings in its way.  Only farmland stretches from horizon to horizon. 
“Allie.  Forget your camera?”  Uncle Cassius slaps me on the arm, smiling.  It’s a tense smile.  So I’m not the only one with some nerves going. 
Yes.  Duh. 
I pull it out of my pocket and fumble with the slim case, fingers hunting for the button.  The camera zings to life.  Behind it, the tornado looms a bit larger, gaining strength and racing across the ground.  More dust kicks up around the perfect white of the twister. 
“Now I can really prove to everyone at school how crazy I am.”  I give Uncle Cassius a nervous chuckle.  The camera trembles in my hands as I catch the tornado in my view, click, and seal it in my memory forever. 
I’m having the most insane summer vacation of my entire high school.
I lift the camera for another shot, backing up to squeeze the tornado into the viewport.  I click another picture and lowered the camera again for another look. 
My heart jumps. 
The tornado looms larger, taller.  Kyle holds his hand up to his face, squinting for a better view.  Even Uncle Cassius goes quiet, stiffening and taking a step back towards the tour van. 
All at once I understand. 
The tornado has changed course. 
Kyle turns.  Real fear widens his features. 
“Get in the van,” he shouts.
* * * * *
The one big thing I can recall from those first ten seconds is the roar, like a distant train growing closer.  The wind whips my hair back, trying to pull me back out of the van.  It feels like the twister’s right behind me already, coming down for the kill. 
I slam the door on it.  The funnel’s much bigger behind the glass, so much that I can’t see the top of it anymore. 
Uncle Cassius snaps on his seat belt next to me.  Kyle starts it up, punches the gas, and gets us back on the road to nowhere. 
I toss my camera to the floor.  My hands fumble with the seat belt.  The van speeds up, slamming me into the seat.  The specter of the tornado closes in, whipping across the field towards us.  I’ve heard of tornadoes making sudden turns like this but I never realized it could happen this fast.  It rips across the field, coming straight at us.  My heart beats on a runaway course.  My mind locks into overdrive.  I feel like that news crew they always have on tornado shows, that one that survived by hiding under that overpass.  Will Kyle make us get out and climb under one?  They’re actually bad places to hide.  That news crew got off lucky.  Kyle knows better.  He’s been chasing storms longer than I’ve been alive. 
Only green and yellow spreads out ahead.  No shelter for miles.  Worse, no ditches.  The radar on Kyle’s laptop is covered in ugly red and orange blotches like Nebraska has sores. 
A hole of panic opens up inside me and for the first time, I regret coming on this vacation. 
“Can’t you go faster?”  Uncle Cassius leans forward in his seat, gaze hard, arms trembling. 
Uncle Cassius never loses his cool. 
Not even when I accidentally set his Persian rug on fire when I was seven and broke my arm at the age of nine. 
Outside, the tornado grows so close that I could only see the bottom half of the funnel.  The van bounces along every speed bump on the highway, every uneven spot.  My stomach heaves.  I’m going to be sick right here.  It’s my stupid fault we’re in this mess. 
“I don’t understand.”  Kyle punches the gas harder, making the van jump.  He turns his head like Linda Blair in the Exorcist, eyes widening.  “The tornado should not be moving this way.”
He’s right.  It shouldn’t.  But it is. 
The funnel reaches the road behind us, twisting harder, kicking up earth higher and higher.  We’ve gotten out in front of it.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  Kyle and Uncle Cassius do the same.  It’ll cross the road and forget all about us. 
Kyle lets off the gas a little and the whine of the engine calms some.  “We’re safe now.  That was highly unusual.  I’ve never seen a tornado turn like that in my career.”  There’s a hint of an apology in his voice. 
“Well, that was a close one, wasn’t it, Allie?”  Uncle Cassius hugs me from the side. 
“Yeah,” I say, willing my heart to slow down.  At least I can think straight now.  Can I even do another two days of this? 
Wow, what a dumb idea this was. 
But I still can’t resist another look at the storm.  I turn as far as my seat belt allows. 
My guts fall out of me all over again. 
The tornado’s still on the road, bigger than ever.  It can’t be. 
The twister has turned again.  It’s coming right up behind us.  Rolling dust eats the entire highway.  There’s tornado taking up the whole view of the back window.  Dust rips to the sides.  The bottom of its funnel spins with fury, big enough to swallow a house whole.  Its roar screams against the outside of the van, shaking the seat, pushing the whole van to the side. 
It’s no longer beautiful. 
“Ohmigod,” I say, sucking in a breath.  “Um…Kyle?  Stomp on the gas.  Just saying.” 
“I know!” he snaps.  His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.  The van lurches again but he maintains control. 
“Allie, get down!”  Uncle Cassius puts his huge hand on my back and pushes me towards the floor.  
The seat belt cuts into my throat. 
What good is it going to do?  If the tornado lifts the car– 
I’m going to die. 
I begged to go on this trip and now Uncle Cassius is going to die too. 
The windows shatter with a deafening boom and the wind screams in my ears.  AllieAllieAllieAllie…
I can’t breathe. 
We’re floating. 
Uncle Cassius shouts something.  Kyle yells.  If I’m screaming, I can’t tell.  The storm’s sucking it right out of me.  Windy hands seize my arms, my legs. 
They pull. 
My safety belt snaps, whipping against my leg.  I cry out with the sting.  The seat disappears under me. 
I’m flying. 
The tornado’s ripping me right out of the van. 
The world turns to a white and brown roar.  The van’s gone.  I have no time to cry out to Uncle Cassius before the world snaps to black and silence takes the place of all.
About Holly Hook

Holly Hook is the author of the Destroyers Series, which consists of five young adult books about teens who are walking disasters…literally. She is also the author of the Rita Morse series, a young adult fantasy series still in progress, and After These Messages, a short ya comedy. Currently she is writing Twisted, a spin-off of the Destroyers Series due out in December. When not writing, she enjoys reading books for teens, especially ya fantasy and paranormal series with a unique twist.

Website    Facebook    Twitter    Goodreads

Friday, December 13, 2013

Release Day Blitz: Death of the Body by Rick Chiantaretto

Today is the release day of Death of the Body by Rick Chiantaretto!

Title:  Death of the Body (Crossing Death #1)

Author:  Rick Chiantaretto

Genre: New Adult Urban Fantasy

I grew up in a world of magic. By the time I was ten I understood nature, talked to the trees, and listened to the wind. When the kingdom of men conquered my town, I was murdered by one of my own—the betrayer of my kind. But I didn't stay dead.

I woke to find myself in a strange new world called Los Angeles. The only keys to the life I remembered were my father’s ring, my unique abilities, and the onslaught of demons that seemed hell-bent on finding me. Now I must learn who I really am, protect my friends, get the girl, and find my way back to my beloved hometown of Orenda.

About Rick Chiantaretto


I’ve often been accused of having done more in my life than the average 30 year old, but if I were completely honest I’d have to tell you my secret: I’m really 392.

So after all this time, I’m a pretty crappy writer.

 I have one book published but out of print, one coming out soon, and a bunch half written (when you have eternity, where’s the reason to rush?). I’ve been favorably reviewed by horror greats like Nancy Kilpatrick, and my how-to-write-horror articles have been quoted in scholarly (aka community college freshmen’s) papers.

 I enjoy the occasional Bloody Mary, although a Bloody Kathy or Susan will suffice.

 Mostly, I just try to keep a low profile so people don’t figure out who I REALLY am.

  Website    Facebook     Twitter

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Release Day Blitz: Only In Dreams by Wendy Owens

only in dreams by wendy owens

Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance

Paige Parker thinks she has everything figured out. Even though her heart is broken, she manages to find love again, and she’s sure this time it’s for keeps.
Between planning her wedding and working on garments for her upcoming debut fashion show, Paige is overwhelmed. When her fiancé, Henry, suggests a couple months away from the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple to focus, she is thrilled to use the opportunity to reconnect with her best friend, Emmie.
Paige heads to Texas, ready to spend some quality time with Emmie and her baby girl, Olivia. When she arrives, she is shocked to find herself face-to-face with Christian Bennett, the man who broke her heart.
She finds herself confused. Is she truly over her first love? Is she making a mistake marrying Henry? Paige follows her heart, but this may be the most painful decision she ever makes. It leaves her wondering if true love is possible ONLY IN DREAMS.
*This book contains mature situations as well as some mature language.
**While this book is part of the Stubborn Love series it is not required to read Stubborn Love to appreciate Only In Dreams. Each book can be read as a stand alone or as part of the series.
Check out a sneak peak of the book! 
I LOOK AT the clock again. I’m not sure what secrets I expect it to reveal. I’ve looked at it at least a hundred times in the last hour. 3:46 AM. Next, I look at my phone. This has become my ritual this evening. I have somehow become the girl I swore I would never be—the one waiting at home for the phone to ring.
When Christian and I moved in together three months ago, I thought the things that had been haunting him would somehow disappear. But, if anything, he has gotten worse. Even Emmie knows something is wrong. Though she does her best not to flaunt her and Colin’s love fest in my face, I can’t help but look at them and be reminded of all the things that are wrong between Christian and myself.
I’ve tried talking to him about his behavior. I tell him I can see that he’s hurting; this approach only makes him angry. I know he’s been drinking again, but every time I try and discuss it, he tells me to quit mothering him. Christ, I’m twenty-two years old. I shouldn’t have to worry about this stuff. Yet here I am. I look back at the clock. Damn it Christian, where are you?
The most horrible and terrifying things a person can imagine have been going through my mind. I’ve tried calling his cell several times, but now the mailbox is full. I mean, come on, a full mailbox? He would be furious if I treated him this way. When my agent called me earlier today and told me about an opportunity in Paris to model I turned him down flat. But now, with each passing minute that Christian disrespects me, without so much as a call, I am reconsidering my choice.
I love him; I know that much. And I used to be pretty sure he loved me. All of my model friends float from guy to guy and can’t seem to understand what Christian and I have. It just doesn’t make sense to them. Of course, it’s not making very much sense to me either right now.
My mom was always in competition with me. First, with my dad, she would do everything she could to make sure he saw me as worthless. Eventually he couldn’t stand being around her anymore. That was when she tried to use me as a weapon against him. I never blamed him, or maybe it was just that I no longer cared enough anymore about either of them to give a damn. But when my mom started making fun of me and telling all her boyfriends what a loser I was, I decided I wanted to be anywhere except in her house.
Then Christian walked into to my life. I wasn’t looking for a man to rescue me; I was never that kind of girl. No, the great thing about him was that he was just as messed up and broken from the death of his parents, but somehow, we made sense together. At first we partied, and then when Christian realized after graduation that he didn’t seem to know when to stop drinking, we simply fell into our next phase of life together. We could go out with all our friends, and because we had each other, Christian never needed to get wasted. He just liked being near me.
I’m not kidding myself. For the most part, I know he has always been about himself. He likes to look good, he likes to hang out with a certain crowd and attend the important events. When life gets to be too much you can find him at the gym, working on his massive muscles. Even Colin, his brother, is constantly teasing him about his man-scaping. But even though he likes himself a lot, he’s always managed to make me feel important and loved … until now.
I know if I could just get through to him, figure out what’s causing all of these feelings he has been having, I could help him. But … I hear the key in the lock. I shift in my seat multiple times, unsure how I should handle this confrontation. My heart begins to race. Without thinking, I leap from the chair I am perched in and flop onto the couch, laying down with my eyes closed.
What am I doing? I think. Am I really going to pretend like I’m asleep? Apparently so.
I hear the door open, and Christian grunts as he fumbles with the lock, trying to remove his keys. Once the door is closed I listen for the lock to latch, but it doesn’t happen. Instead I hear footsteps stumbling toward me—dragging across the floor. From the smell assaults my senses, I can tell he is extremely intoxicated.
I wait silently, assuming he’s now staring at me, but I can’t be sure. It’s too late not to continue with the charade. Then I hear more footsteps, and the bedroom door bash into the wall. Quickly I sit up and turn around, watching Christian stumble into the guest room. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Why on Earth would he be going in there?
I’ve had enough of the game. I want answers. I deserve answers. I hop to my feet and rush across the living room, poking my head in through the doorway Christian passed through moments ago. He is passed out, still fully dressed, including his shoes. Lying sideways across the bed, drool leaks from his mouth.
“Seriously?” is the only thing I can think to say. I want to cry; I want to throw things at him, and scream horrible things at him. But I don’t do that. The last time I cried was when my dad left, and I decided nobody would ever get to see me do that again.
Christian mumbles an inaudible response, which then trails off into a snore.
“Christian? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I try again, but I know he won’t be waking up. Our talk will have to wait until morning. Unfortunately, sleep won’t come as easily for me.
THE HOURS TICK by, and just as I suspected I’ve been unable to sleep. I lay in our bed at first, my face growing hot with anger. Then I clean, but I hate cleaning, so that doesn’t last long. I think about calling Emmie around six o’clock, but that seems whiney and desperate. Not to mention the fact that I know most of what I tell Emmie she will tell Colin. If Colin knows Christian is getting wasted every night, it will start a huge fight between them, just giving him more ammo to use against me.
No, this is my problem, and I need to deal with it. By seven, I have come to the conclusion that maybe Christian isn’t taking me seriously. I am always happy to clean up his messes, and it seems that he is well aware of it. Maybe now what he needs is some tough love. Maybe he needs to know I’m not going to be taken for granted anymore.
I waffle on this decision for sometime—I’m not one for idle threats—and before I make the ultimatum, I need to be certain I’ll follow through. Poking my head into the guest bedroom one last time is all it takes. The room smells like a distillery. I realize now I love him enough to leave.
Packing my suitcase is harder than I thought it would be. I keep telling myself, he won’t let you leave, seeing your packed bags will be enough. Going through the drawers, one by one, folding up my favorite thrift store treasures or photo shoot take home items, my mind drifts to Emmie.
She was a wreck when I met her. She didn’t have any friends and was clearly suffering when it came to her fashion sense. I was the one who encouraged her to see how things would turn out with Colin. I was the example of happiness … wasn’t I? How did I end up here? I missed my last two modeling jobs because Christian needed one thing or another. Now my agent had warned me that the calls would stop coming if I didn’t start putting my best foot forward.
I gather the essential hair and makeup products I cannot live without and strategically place my suitcases against the wall, so that Christian will see them first thing when he wakes up. Then I wait, and wait, until I refuse to wait any longer.
Grabbing a wad of cash and my keys, I shove them into the pockets of my jumper and head to Ninth Street Espresso to grab a coffee. After a night of no sleep I need it, especially if I am going to have anything left in me for the shit storm that I know is going to happen when I get home. I keep having these moments where I think perhaps I’m overreacting, but as I recall the recent months, I quickly dismiss these notions.
“Hey Bill,” I grumble as I approach the counter.
“Paige, where’s Christian this fine morning?”
I debate how to answer. Christian and Colin are the owners of the space the coffee shop rents. While a huge part of me wants to unload on Bill and tell him exactly where Christian is, and exactly what my boyfriend can do to himself, I worry how this might affect their business relationship.
“Sleeping in.” I decide to play it safe.
“Boy, he’s got it rough, doesn’t he?” Bill laughs. I feign a smile as I watch him prepare my latte.
“New tat?” I inquire, trying not to think about my good-for-nothing sloth of a boyfriend who is still passed out at home.
“How can you possibly notice that? Besides my girlfriend, you’re the only one,” Bill marvels, handing me my cup. Bill has tattooed sleeves on both arms; it is something I always take notice of while he makes my drinks. I’ve always been fascinated with body art—tattoos being a permanent fashion statement.
I pull out the wad of bills from my pocket, even though I already know Bill is going to wave me off. “On the house,” he says.
I couldn’t explain it to him. I had been taking free coffee from this place for as long as I could remember. And until today it was merely one of the perks of dating an owner of the building, but now, it feels dirty. I am so angry at Christian, the free coffee perk has become an unimaginable sin.
“No, I insist, you always give me freebies. I think we should start a policy where I at least pay for one out of a hundred,” I joke, shoving the money further onto the counter.
“Your money is no good here, you know that,” Bill replies lifting his hands up into the air.
Grabbing the wadded up bills, I drop them into the tip jar and walk out, flashing a smile over my shoulder. Bill is nice; it is too bad his landlord is such a dick head.
The walk home is the longest walk I have ever taken. I’m more than fine if it takes me the rest of the morning to get home. But, even with dragging my feet, a short fifteen minutes later, here I am, staring at the front door of my building.
I really do love this place, the ivy has begun to climb across the brick, and I am so thrilled I convinced Colin not to cut it back. The window boxes are overflowing with the springtime flowers I recently planted. As I fiddle with the keys, small rays of sunshine filter through the leaves of the big oak tree that is bursting from the seams of the green space on the sidewalk.
This place is home—one of the few places in my life that I feel like nobody can take away from me. Now that Christian and I live together, we can never undo the choice. He owns the building, so if anyone is going to move out, it is going to be me.
I shake my head, trying to force the idea out of my mind. There is no way it is going to come to that, I remind myself. Even if I left for a few days, Christian will realize how miserable he is without me, and I will be back—back in his arms. And not the arms of the guy passed out in the guest room. I’ll be back with my Christian, the one I fell in love with as a teen.
I climb the stairs and enter the apartment. Looking around, I quickly realize Christian still isn’t awake. I huff and push the wild strands of hair out of my face. I’ve waited long enough. This needs to happen.
Stepping into the guest room, I clear my throat, loudly. Christian lay in the exact same position as the night before, clearly undisturbed by my presence. Angrily, I rush over to his oversized, beefy body and give him multiple shoves. “Wake up. You need to wake up, now!”
“Huh,” he says with a snort, wiping the drool gathering on his cheek with the back of his hand. “What’s going on?”
He seems startled. He lifts his eyes, and squinting, tries to block out the light more with his hand.
“We need to talk,” I say coolly.
I watch as he rolls his eyes and flops back down onto the bed, clearly disgusted I woke him. “Can’t this wait?” he moans.
“It has waited, all morning,” I reply firmly.
“Paige, I’m serious, I feel like shit.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Jesus! I said not right now.”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice to me,” I command, completely in shock that he would have the nerve to talk to me that way after putting me through hell last night. “For all I knew you were dead last night.”
“I left my phone in Pete’s car,” Christian defends himself, not bothering to lift his head.
The answer does not appease me, only further infuriating me. “Pete Hannigan? The loser you said you were never going to see again, because all he does is hang out with a bunch of roadie losers at Kings and get drunk all the time? That Pete?”
“Yeah, that Pete!” Christian shouts, suddenly sitting up and glaring at me. I watch as he clutches his head, the sudden adjustment to his body and light obviously causing an intense pain. I’m not too ashamed to admit, I kind of feel he has it coming.
“What’s going on with you?” I beg, fighting the urge to rush up and start shaking him wildly.
“Nothing,” he grunts, standing and pushing past me to make his way into the bathroom. I walk into the living room, taking a seat on the chair that faces the door. He will have to look at me when he comes out. He will have to give me the answers I deserve.
I hear the flush, then a few seconds later he emerges from the doorway. He doesn’t look at me, though. He makes his way to the kitchen sink and sticks his head under the faucet. After a good soaking, he lifts up, and while dripping water all over the floor, proceeds to question, “Where are the migraine pills?”
“Basket on the top of the fridge,” I answer. I don’t even know why. I have all this anger and fight inside of me, but all of the sudden I feel incredibly overwhelmed with sadness. He really doesn’t care if I am upset. Perhaps I’ve been fooling myself about who he really is. As a girl I would watch my mom date these slime balls who would use her up until they were done and then throw her away. My stomach sinks as the idea I am exactly the same as her hits me.
“It’s like a fucking jackhammer in my skull,” he moans as he fidgets with the childproof cap, growing angrier.
I can’t explain exactly what clicks for me in that moment. I stand and glide into the kitchen casually, grabbing the bottle from his hands, and pop the lid off with ease. I deal out a dose, replace the lid, and turn to pick up my bags.
“Where are you going?” he asks, noticing the luggage for the first time.
“I’m leaving,” I say and make my way to the door, but before I can get there, he takes hold of my arm.
“Where? A job?” I can see it in his eyes. He knows what is happening as much as I do, but his voice almost sounds hopeful it really is just a modeling job.
“Yeah,” I reply. I don’t intend on taking the job in Paris, but when he asks me the question, the reply just slips out.
“When will you be back?” he inquires, his eyes shifting from my bags and then to my face repeatedly.
“I’m not coming back,” I answer, a sigh of relief passing my lips. This isn’t at all how I had expected the talk to go. I planned to complain and tell him how miserable I am. I would demand he change, or I would move out. But standing at the door, this isn’t the tone at all. Christian is the kind of broken that I can’t fix—he needs to fix himself.
“What the hell do you mean?” He is clearly becoming agitated very quickly.
“You know this has been coming for a long time. You need help, and I hope you get it, but I can’t sit here and watch you self-destruct. I love you too much for that. I can feel the rush of emotions building up, but I know this goodbye can’t be emotional, or it will scar both of us more than we can handle.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I party too hard with the boys, I don’t check in, and you’re done.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Paige. I’m sick of the drama. Get out then, if you’re leaving, just leave,” Christian snaps before turning his back to me.
I’ve never felt two such conflicting emotions at the same time. Part of me can see he is hurting. I want to scoop him up into my arms, pull him in close, and make it better. But then there is another part of me that loud and clear is telling myself, you deserve more than your mom and dad, you deserve more than him.
And then it happens, I says the words, “Goodbye, Christian.” The door closes behind me, my first love on one side, the rest of my life on the other.
About Wendy Owens


Wendy Owens is a 34 year old author, born in the small college town, Oxford Ohio. After attending Miami University, Wendy went onto a career in the visual arts. For several years she created and sold her own artwork. In 2011 she gave her true love, writing, a try. Her first novel flowed from her in only two weeks time, as though it had been fighting to get out. That moment was when she knew she had found her calling. Wendy now happily spends her days writing the stories her characters guide her to tell, admitting even she doesn’t always know where that might lead. Her first series, The Guardians, will be concluded with the fifth and final book in 2013.

When she’s not writing, this dog lover can be found spending time with her tech geek husband, their three amazing kids, and two pups, lovingly nicknamed stinks and chubbs. She also loves to cook and is a film fanatic.

For more info on Wendy’s young adult fiction visit

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Friday, December 06, 2013

Release Day Blitz: The Enlightening (Mackenzie Duncan Series #2) by Adrianne James

Mackenzie Duncan found out that pack life wasn’t for her. Now she is running for the second time in the six months   since she was bitten and turned into a Werewolf. But this   time, she isn’t alone. This time, she has Geoff and Liam     with her, two very hot Werewolves vying for her heart.

But her companions aren’t her focus. The only thing she can focus on is getting far from her old pack and their murderous ways. Only, she doesn’t just want to run. She wants to warn every pack she can that their lives are in danger too. No one should be turned against their will like she was and no other pack should have to surrender to the ideas of a centuries old, power hungry woman.

Not only does Mackenzie have to deal with her crazy ex-pack leader sending people out to kill her, she has to keep both men at arm’s length (and that proves to be much more difficult than she thought), but she finds out more about her own life and heritage than she ever thought imaginable.

And suddenly, everything makes sense…


Get the first book in the Mackenzie Duncan Series, The Tempering while it is on sale!  

The Mythology department at prestigious Harvard University is tiny—and Mackenzie Duncan has just been selected as one of the lucky few. Her love for myths and legends is strong, but she never thought any of it could be real.

After being attacked by a large wolf while walking home alone, Mackenzie realizes something is not right. She heals quickly, is suddenly super strong, and is experiencing mood swings that can’t possibly be normal. The myths she’s studying aren’t myths at all. Werewolves are real and she’s one of them. Fear of what she is, and who she might hurt sends Mackenzie running from the life she’s worked hard to build–and straight into the arms of a handsome Were named Geoff and into the home of his pack. Living with her new pack takes the edge off her confusion and self-loathing, but the arrival of new pack members changes the dynamic, and tests Geoff and Mackenzie’s growing relationship.

The hardest part of being a werewolf is having no control and no memory of her time as a blood thirsty beast. When a moon cycle passes and she actually remembers bits and pieces of the night, she starts to ask questions, and the more questions she asks, the more she realizes she doesn’t like the answers. Can she set aside her own sense of morals to belong to a pack that is like a family or will she leave everything behind yet again in search of a life she can be proud of?

a Rafflecopter giveaway


 Growing up, Adrianne couldn’t get her hands on enough books to satisfy her need for the make believe. If she finished a novel and didn’t have a new one ready and waiting for her, she began to create her own tales of magic and wonder. Now, as an adult, books still make up majority of her free time, and now her tales get written down to be shared with the world.

During the day, Adrianne uses her camera to capture life’s stories for clients of all ages and at night, after her two children are tucked in bed; she devotes herself to her written work. Adrianne is living the life she always wanted, surrounded by art and beauty, the written word and a loving family.

As a young adult and new adult author, Adrianne James has plans to bring stories of growing characters, a little romance, and perhaps a little magic and mythology down the line for her readers to enjoy.