Archangel's Desire

Showing posts with label Giveaway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giveaway. Show all posts

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Blog Barrage - Ares (Guardians of Hades Series Book 1) by Felicity Heaton #giveaway





Ares, book 1 in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot new paranormal romance series, Guardians of Hades, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release of Ares and Megan’s romance, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

Enter the ARES international giveaway (ends December 11th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate by using the Rafflecopter form at her website, where you can also download a 4 chapter sample of the novel: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-ares-paranormal-romance-book.php

Here’s more about the book and the sexy Greek god hero and his heroine…



Ares (Guardians of Hades Series Book 1)
Felicity Heaton
Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Fire, Ares was banished from his home by his father, Hades, two centuries ago and given a new duty and purpose—to keep our world and his from colliding in a calamity foreseen by the Moirai.

Together with his six brothers, he fights to defend the gates to the Underworld from daemons bent on breaching them and gaining entrance to that forbidden land, striving to protect his home from their dark influence. Caged by the manifestation of his power, held apart from those he loves by his own fire and starved of physical contact, Ares lives a cold existence driven by duty and the desire to return to his world.

Until his world collides with a daemon who steals his power and a mortal female who shatters the ice around his heart and awakens the true fire within him—a soul-stirring passion both dangerous and seductive.

Megan has wandered far from her home, driven from everyone she loves by the devastating realisation that she is different to them all. Unsure who to trust in the world, she keeps to herself, until a fateful stormy night brings a temptingly handsome warrior crashing into her life and into her heart—a warrior who seems to hold powers more frightening and marvellous than her own.
When the New York gate comes under threat, and Ares is put to the test, will he choose his duty and regain the power he needs in order to save his world or will he choose the desires of his heart and sacrifice his fire so he can be with the woman becoming his whole world?

ARES is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-ares-paranormal-romance-book.php


ARES – Excerpt
When the daemon returned, Ares would be ready to deal with him.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had gone into battle injured and drained, and it wouldn’t even be the worst. Life in the mortal world was making him soft. He had once battled a legion of daemons with one arm broken and several arrows lodged in his left thigh, and he had decimated them.

Ares smiled. The good old days. It had been centuries since he had gone to war together with his brothers, unleashing the hunger for violence and destruction that made the god his parents had named him after so proud of him.

He focused and the street whirled and disappeared, replaced by his apartment. He flicked the light on, illuminating the pale coffee-coloured walls and dark furniture in the open plan kitchen and living room. He looked down at his boots and the puddle already forming around them on his wooden floor, and toed them off and kicked them into the kitchen on his right. They tumbled across the tiled floor, hit one of the oak cupboards and stopped. He reached over his shoulder with his right hand, grabbed the back of his ruined wet black t-shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the tiles with his boots.

The water around his feet evaporated, steam curling off his already drying black jeans. He needed to get his mood in check before something bad happened.

He closed his eyes and drew in several deep breaths, holding each one before slowly expelling the air, and reined in his temper together with his power, restoring the usual rigid control he kept over it and stopping his flames from emerging. The heat that always surrounded him settled to a more manageable, and safer, level, and he released another breath, this one more a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was set his apartment on fire. Again. It had been a shitty enough night without that added cherry on top.

When he felt calm enough to maintain control over his fire, he walked into the open living room and pushed the second door in the wall to his left open. He switched the bathroom light on, turned and frowned at his reflection in the mirrored wall on his left above the vanity unit and sink.

He looked like hell.

The female daemon had done a number on him. Long gashes darted across his chest and forearms where she had caught him with her claws. He touched the deepest one of the three on his pectorals and beads of blood broke to the surface.

He frowned and the gold flecks in his eyes darkened to red, glowing against their earthy brown backdrop.

The daemon shouldn’t have been able to land a single blow on him, let alone several. He had been too complacent tonight. He had been dealing with low level daemons for so long that he had forgotten there were stronger ones out there, just waiting for him to drop his guard.

It wouldn’t happen again.

Ares stared at the tip of his right index finger and slowly released the iron grip he had on his power, allowing his control to slip little by little until the air around his hand shimmered and he could feel the heat of it against his chest. He slammed his hold over his flames back into place, locking them down at their current level and stopping them from burning out of control.

He ground his molars together, grabbed the edge of the oak vanity unit with his other hand to steady himself and drew his finger along the first cut across his chest. Fire blazed in the wake of his finger but he didn’t stop or make a sound, not until he had reached the end of the wound and had cauterised it.

He drew a deep breath, blew it out and flexed his fingers around the edge of the unit. His arm trembled and ached, his shoulder socket throbbing madly. Two more slashes to seal and he could rest. Pain tore through him with each one but it was necessary. He needed to regain his strength as quickly as possible and that meant helping his healing process along in his own way.

His finger reached the end of the final cut and he lowered his head, breathing hard to stifle the pain as he struggled with his power, wrestling it back under control until it was nothing more than an aura of heat around him. He could leave the cuts on his forearms. They were shallow and would easily heal without his assistance.

He flicked the steel tap on, waited until the water was frigid, and then doused his chest and arms with enough of it to clean the blood away. The water heated and steamed the second it touched his skin, and would have evaporated immediately if it hadn’t been ice cold. When the blood was gone, he settled his hands on the edges of the sink, leaning over it.

The water swirled as it reached the drain, ribbons of red streaking the maelstrom. Pain pulsed through him, stealing his strength and focus.

Motionless, he watched his blood snaking down his arms as it continued to trickle from his wounds, immune to his heat because it ran as hot as the rest of him, and then the sink, sliding down it to join the running water. It mesmerised him and time slipped past him as he lost himself in listening to his steady breathing and staring at the swirling water.

The taste of iron in his mouth slowly grew stronger, drawing his focus back to the world, and he probed each tooth with his tongue. It brushed one of his molars and the flow of blood increased. He closed his eyes, reached into his mouth and tugged the loose tooth free, turned it in his fingers, feeling nothing, and then let it fall. It clattered around the white porcelain bowl and stopped in the drain. It didn’t bother him. It would grow back in time.

His temper faded, emotions falling back into place and calm washing through him at last.

He rinsed his arms again, grabbed a white towel off the ones scrunched up on the side of the oak unit and patted himself dry, careful to avoid the cuts and keeping an eye on the soft material. With his temper back under control, it should be safe but he never could quite trust himself. It just took one wrong thought, or a momentary slip in concentration, and he had to go shopping for new linen or new towels.

Or sometimes a new couch.

His hands heated and he dropped the towel next to the sink. Tiny flames flickered over his fingertips. He shook his hand, willing them to behave, and they disappeared.

Ares turned on his heel, exited the bathroom and stalked straight towards his bedroom to his left. The world beyond the bank of windows that formed the exterior wall of his apartment was dark despite the lights from the streets and the buildings surrounding Central Park.

He banked left in his bedroom and slid the oak door to the closet open. He flicked on the light and his weapons greeted him, gleaming steel and death. The sight of them always brought a smile to his lips. There was nothing more beautiful than knives and guns.

Well.

Almost.

He stepped into the closet and ran his hand over the leather and metal circular shield hanging on the back wall, and then the hilt of the matching sword that hung behind it. Metal of the gods. It was warm beneath his fingers, vibrating with power that had him closing his eyes as he absorbed it.

How long had it been since he had wielded his blade?

Too long.

He missed the feel of it in his hand. The weight of it. Only steel forged by the gods could channel his power, and his father had deemed the weapon too destructive to use in the mortal world. Ares hadn’t been pleased to hear that, and neither had his brothers.

He pulled a circular silver and black amulet from the pocket of his jeans and hung it so it lay in the centre of his shield. It would be safest here while he went out to hunt.

He grabbed his black leather shoulder holster, backed out of the closet, switched off the light and slid the door shut. Two gleaming silver knives sat in their sheaths above two equally bright guns. He slung the holster over his bare shoulder and checked each gun, sliding the clips out to check they were fully loaded before slotting them back in and ensuring he had a round chambered.

It wasn’t often that he had to rely on mortal-made weaponry to assist him in his nightly battle against the daemons in his city, but it was reassuring to have them on hand in case he needed them. In his weakened state, they were a blessing from Zeus himself. He could use them to slow daemons down and it was far easier to kill with these weapons than it was with his power. Mortals turned a blind eye when they saw people fighting with guns. They tended to stare if he used his powers.

Ares crossed his dark bedroom to the long ebony chest of drawers that lined the dividing wall, set his weapons down and grabbed a fresh t-shirt. He slipped into the black top and then settled his holster around his broad shoulders.

Dry, armed and no longer bleeding. Things were looking up.

He veered right and skirted around the short length of wall that divided his bedroom from a smaller open room on the other side, walking between it and the red armchair of his suite. The single overhead light from the living room cast pale streaks over the fuel tank of his motorbike. He ran a hand over the paintwork as he passed, promising he would polish it soon, and then opened the French doors onto the balcony.

The city stretched before him, shrouded in rain and darkness, a panorama of a world on the edge.

Only it didn’t know it.

Only he and his brothers knew how close to destruction this world was, a curse from the Moirai so they never forgot or questioned the importance of their duty.

Its fate depended on them and their mission to protect the gates to the Underworld.

Their world.

He moved forwards to the railing, his eyes scanning the city, searching it and hoping that the feeling in his gut was wrong and he wouldn’t be needed again tonight.

Lightning forked across the sky, throwing the buildings into stark relief for a split second before descending them back into darkness. With each brilliant flash, he saw a different city.

The future of this world should they fail.

It balanced on the brink of ruin, the buildings hollow shells, torn and shattered, and the trees ablaze in the fiery darkness. The hot air carried the shrieks of the creatures responsible for the horror and the wails of suffering mortals.

Ares gripped the railing of his balcony, every muscle tensing as he caught flickers of that world in each lightning strike.

Rain lashed the dark scene, falling as water in this world and fire in the next. The wind drove it hard, so nothing could escape the inferno sweeping the land.

Lightning slammed into the earth again, causing another flicker between this rain-soaked night and what he and his brothers had termed the otherworld. It was getting worse and had been for the past decade. Something was growing in the darkness, a threat he and his brothers had been waiting to take form since the oracles had spoken of it to their father centuries ago.

Time was running out. Soon their unknown enemy would reveal themselves and the battle to prevent his world and this mortal one from colliding would begin.

A boom shook the ground and his head snapped up.

The lights across the city died, as though eaten by Nyx herself, plunging the landscape into shadows that seemed unholy and spoke to his senses. He spotted nothing in the darkness though. No sign of daemons or his prey.

Silence wrapped her arms around him, comforting and tender. Ares embraced her in return, savouring this moment of quiet, all too aware of the storm that was coming and that the battle this time would be to the death.

War was on the horizon.

Bloodshed was on his mind.

It was his duty.

He leaned forwards and glanced at the street several storeys below. Cars passed in both directions, their lights the only mortal-made ones in this dark world tonight. Thunder raged overhead and lightning ravaged the land. The scent of earth and rain filled the charged air.

He waited.

A blackout of this magnitude would draw daemons out. They would want to feed on the fear it created.

He would see to it they paid for their vile hungers.

This was his city. Maintaining the peace here and protecting it were his responsibilities, ever since his father had banished him and his brothers from the Underworld two centuries ago.

A dark curse rolled off his tongue in the mortal language and the lightning struck with more force, blazing purple-white and shaking the ground.

Had they sensed his desire to speak in his natural tongue?

The gods of Mount Olympus hated it when those with his power spoke the language of the Underworld on Earth.

Tranquil silence rolled over the world in the wake of the thunder.

The sound of his cell phone ringing shattered it.

It was muffled and distant. He had probably left it with his coat in the living room when he had gone out tonight. Whoever was ringing would give up soon and peace would be his again until the first daemon surfaced to take advantage of the storm.

The phone continued to fill the apartment with a sombre melody and then stopped.

Silence.

Ares sighed and returned his attention to his city. Each explosion of light revealed it to him. Not the otherworld this time but the current one, full of perfect buildings and unharmed nature, and no daemons crawling around. For now. They would emerge soon enough.

His phone started ringing again.

He grimaced.

They were persistent. Only one person could annoy him so thoroughly without trying. His anger rose again, his temperature rising along with it.

Closing his eyes, he reached a hand out behind him and pictured his phone. It whipped into his hand. Being a son of Hades had certain advantages. The power to manipulate his surroundings and the ability to teleport were just two of them.

The bright screen of his phone held a picture of his youngest brother grinning like a fool.

Ares wasn’t in the mood for Calistos’s usual brand of mischief tonight. He swiped his thumb over the option to ignore his call and waited for it to begin ringing again. Nothing annoyed his little brother more than being ignored. Once, Ares had declined a call three times in a row and Cal had teleported from Paris to New York just to give him an earful.

The phone remained silent this time. Maybe his brother had got the message.

He tossed the phone back into his apartment, using his power to guide it back to the crimson couch. The storm began to abate but the electricity showed no sign of returning. Would it be out all night? Now that would be the perfect end to a perfect night. He would be working until dawn to keep the daemons in check.

Rain continued to sweep across the city. It beaded on the back of his hands where they grasped the balcony railing. The droplets steamed and shrank, his body too hot for them to withstand.

Being a son of Hades had disadvantages too.

The heat inside him rose until the water on his skin evaporated. He took a deep breath and reined in his anger. The last thing he wanted to do was set fire to his apartment on a miserable night like tonight. He cursed the rain.

His insides tingled.

The rain slowed at last, causing the earthy scent of the storm to thicken, but it couldn’t mask the coppery stench of evil.

The daemon was back.

Ares rolled his shoulders, stepped back from the railing and turned his hands palm up. He channelled his power towards them. Fierce pale flames rose from his fingers, casting light over the balcony.

He grinned.

Time to hunt.



ARES is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Find all the links, a fantastic 4 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-ares-paranormal-romance-book.php


Books in the Guardians of Hades paranormal romance series:
Book 2: Valen – Coming in 2017



About Felicity Heaton:
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, her best-selling Her Angel romance series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm romance series or any of her stand alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try her Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series. Or if you like hot-blooded alpha heroes who will let nothing stand in the way of them claiming their destined woman then try her Eternal Mates series. It’s packed with sexy heroes in a world populated by elves, vampires, fae, demons, shifters, and more. If sexy Greek gods with incredible powers battling to save our world and their home in the Underworld are more your thing, then be sure to step into the world of Guardians of Hades.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/felicityheaton/

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Book Blast & Giveaway: Breathe Me by Jeri Williams @WilliamsJeri @sparklebooktour



PRESENTED BY





Title: Breathe Me: A ‘Me’ Novel
Author: Jeri Williams
Audience: New Adult Over 18+
Genre: Romance
Format: Ebook & Paperback
Publisher: Gone Writing Publishing
Cover by: Najla Qamber Designs
Pages: 234 Pages
ISBN: 1517247462
ASIN: B01373A6WS
Date Published: July 31, 2015





You know how you hear those stories about once abused kids growing up and
overcoming the difficult lie they have been dealt? They become majorly
successful— like FBI agents or lawyers or something cool and never have any
lingering problems?


Well, this isn’t one of those stories. In fact, those stories are just that,
stories. They are things that I read about in the many books I bury myself in
when I’m alone. I used to know how my life was going to be, how I was going to
live out my lifeless days: unloved and fearful. Hopeless to the possibility that
life, my life, could be anything better than what it is now.


I knew that I would either give up, or give in, either one would eventually
be the end of me; I didn’t think that was so bad. I would no longer be
constantly reminded that I was sh*t, and would be sh*t, no matter how hard I
tried to make it different. I thought it was all easier just to slip away.


But that was before, before Deklan.


***For Mature Readers only due to strong language and sexual content***








Jeri Williams lives a super fabulous lifestyle (by fabulous, she mean's kinda
lame) in the hot Florida sun and loves reading of any kind (except instruction
manuals and cereal boxes). She has always written stories and made her family
listen to them since she was young, although this is her first book she has ever
published. She is a mom of an up-and-coming Jerry Seinfeld (in girl form) and
also enjoys being right and knowing everything, although she is hardly ever
right and really doesn't know anything and is obsessed with inventing miniature
zoo animals you can carry around in your pocket (although not really).










a Rafflecopter giveaway

Character Bio's

Name: Harley Reynolds
Height: 5’6
Overall attitude: Broken
Eyes: Brown
Favorite book: Any Epic love story

 Short Bio: Harley Reynolds is a 23 year old girl who gives it up every night of the week to a different guy….at least that what she has people believing. Behind closed doors, Harley is a 23 year old victim of abuse at the hands of her mother and lives vicariously through books. She considers herself smart, just not smart enough to leave her life of abuse behind for good, until she ran into the one guy who actually saw her.

Name: Deklan Kane
Height: 6’2
Overall attitude: Pissed
Eyes: Grey
Favorite word: F*ck
Short Bio: Deklan Kane is the epitome of ‘bad alpha male’, 25 years old who gives zero f*ck’s about anything and an all-around asshole. Growing up the oldest son of Royce and Susan Kane, the local rich guy, Deklan has a screw the world, and by world he means family attitude. He was only in town for his mom, until he ran into the one girl he had to save.

Name: Matt Kane
Height: 6’0
Overall attitude:  Confused
Eyes: Grey
Favorite Person: His Father
Short Bio: Matt Kane is the 23 year old younger brother of Deklan Kane, the perfect one out of the two and prepping himself to take over the family business when it’s his time. He has a loving girlfriend of three years and no worries or regrets in the world and thinks his brother is a liar and an asshole, but still loves him, he thinks.


Name: Ember Harrington
Height: 5’5
Overall attitude: happy
Eyes: Green
Favorite number: Three
Short Bio:
Ember Harrington is the only daughter of the town Mayor. She works at the bookstore where Harley works and considers Harley her best friend, even if she may question her lifestyle from time to time, she loves Harley deeply. She has dated Matt for the past three years and although she was with him before his brother left town, she has never met Deklan in person, but from what Matt says about him, she never wants to.



Thursday, December 17, 2015

Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: The Beast by A.R. Davis @writerardavis @sparklebooktour


the beast banner
 
PRESENTED BY
logotrans
 

Title: The Beast
Author: A.R. Davis
Audience: Young Adult    the beast gif
Genre: Fantasy
Format: E-book and Paperback
Publisher: Alice Davis
Cover by: Joseph Bradley
Editor: Kathrin DePue
Pages: 438
ISBN: 1514781743
ASIN: B010QVQ9RA
Date Published: 7/7/2015
 
 









blurb (6)
 
The citizens of Leola live in fear of the dense, dark forest that borders their town. Men disappear into the brush or are found dismembered as if they were attacked by a rabid Beast. But fear of a different kind also breeds in the citizens of Leola. For Valerie Mason, starvation is worse than potentially disappearing. With her former guardsman father drowning his troubles in spirits, it’s up to Valerie to keep them afloat by any means necessary…even if it means breaking the law.   Young Aubrey, the future Lord of Leola, fears that once he dies, the pages of his personal history will be left blank. When he hears of the dangers threatening his town, he knows the only way ensure that he lives on in the memory of his people is to venture into the forest and defend it himself…even if it might cost him his life. Valerie and Young Aubrey must each breach the veil of trees again and again on their own quests. Will Valerie or Young Aubrey emerge victorious, or will they fall victim to their own demons and The Beast?
 
 
book links (4)
 
Amazon (1)   goodreads
 
excerpt (6)
 

Chapter 1

Valerie Mason emerged from the relative quiet of the forest and stepped back into the town of Leola just as the sun peaked above the buildings. She carried a bag of two dead rabbits whose blood was seeping through the bottom. She wrapped her arms around the bundle and walked as quickly and inconspicuously as she could, though the obvious tears around the skirt of her dress made it hard for her to blend in with the crowd. The hunters would not appreciate her encroaching on their territory again. She had been scolded a few times. The last time, they had taken her cargo away from her. She could not afford to have that happen again.
On her way to the marketplace, she passed the pub her father frequented. Valerie wondered if her father was in there now. She had half a mind to go look, but it would only delay her and it was quite useless otherwise. Last night, her father had returned home with a black eye and shards of glass embedded in his arm. With their combined salary, they were able to cover most of the doctor’s expenses. Whenever Valerie had any doubts about the necessity of her going into the forest to steal, she was reminded of the reason she had to continue with this dirty business. If Valerie refused to steal meat from the hunters’ traps, they would have had to choose between rent and supper—or doctor’s visits and rent and supper. Was it so wrong with the fact that she did not want them to starve?
Her father was, of course, apologetic as always, and as always, she forgave him before the words were even out of his mouth. It was easier for Valerie to forgive than to be angry with him. After all, he was all she had left, and she could not lose him, even if sometimes it felt like he was determined to be lost. Her father assured her that the other man struck first. The childish part of Valerie wanted to ask, “But why did you have to strike back?”
Valerie turned sixteen the previous spring, and she was too old to ask such naïve questions. She was of age to be considered for marriage, but there were no suitors lining up at her door, not that Valerie was interested in such things. She was only thinking about her father. Although, if she married, it might be easier to take care of him.
The town of Leola was drinking in the remains of late-summer. Women hung their laundry out the window, on the line between buildings. Wet slopping sounds of waste being tossed down into the alleyways could be heard as it spilled down the cobble-stone streets toward the main road. Lord Aubrey’s guardsmen marched in a unified line carrying rifles, their metal armor winking in the sunlight. Several passersby waved hello to Valerie, and she waved back cautiously. Children ran breathlessly as they chased each other, their laughter ringing in the air and mixing with the incoherent shouts of stall owners. Horses clopped lazily along pulling their carriages with heads bowed low as though they feared to make eye contact with beings around them. The aromas of waste, horse hide, and baking bread created a strange concoction in the air. All of this blended together to form the smell of the town that Valerie knew best.
She stopped in front of the tailor’s display window. The tailor himself was arranging a beautiful emerald gown for all of Leola to see. There was already a group of girls standing in front of the window, pointing, giggling, and gossiping. Valerie took a moment to imagine herself in that gown. Maybe she would join the girls in their gossip. Maybe she would be invited to one of Lord Aubrey’s parties, and he would be so impressed by her wit and charm that he would give her enough money to take care of her father forever.
The weight of the dead rabbits was enough to snap her out of her momentary daydream. No lady could carry such cargo and still be considered lovely or charming or witty. Valerie thought she had completely rid herself of such fantasies, but they kept finding her as though she was engaging them in an endless game of hide and seek.
A severely strict looking woman, who wore her hair in a bun so tight that it appeared to pull her face up toward her ears, was just turning the sign from Closed to Open on the front door of the bookshop. Valerie waited patiently for Mrs. Lind to finish arranging the books in front of the display window before walking inside.
The bell rang when Valerie pushed the door open. Mrs. Lind promptly swiveled around wearing a scarily forced smile and folded her hands in front of her. Her voice rose to an unnaturally high pitch.
“Wel –” she said before dropping three octaves into a low, disappointed tone. “Oh. It’s you”—her substitute for “Good morning.”
Altogether, it wasn’t said unkindly, though anyone else might have taken offense. Valerie simply shrugged it off.
Mrs. Lind snatched the bag away from Valerie. She made a face like something smelled rotten. “Did anyone see you?”
“No, ma’am.” If they did, you would already know, Valerie thought. It was best to keep such comments to herself. She didn’t want to argue with Mrs. Lind and lose her job. Even though she was only allowed to clean the shop and alphabetize the books, Valerie enjoyed it. There was something about being quiet in a room where hundreds of stories were at her fingertips. It was the only place where Valerie felt she was in control of anything.
“If they catch you, I’ll have to fire you. And I’ll pretend I knew nothing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Lind sniffed. “Is that all you can say to me?” She imitated Valerie’s tone, “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Are you a machine?”
Valerie didn’t know how else to respond to that question. “No, ma’am.” Though some days, she did feel like a machine. This was one of those days.
Mrs. Lind sighed with a hint of pity and stored the bag in a safe place where the rabbits would take longer to rot. Then she returned to Valerie, touting.
“What on earth are we going to do with you, child?” Mrs. Lind asked as she pinched Valerie’s torn skirt. “If your father finds out about this, he’ll have my head!”
Valerie wondered what Mrs. Lind would say if she told her that not only did her father already know but that he had given her a knife for her birthday. “If you’re going to disobey me,” he said, “you may as well defend yourself while you do so.” Valerie had only ever used it to finish what the traps started.
Mrs. Lind continued to fret over Valerie and Valerie let her because, in a way, it was nice to be the subject of someone else’s worry, rather than the worrier, for a change.
“If you leave this with me tomorrow, I can probably fix it,” Mrs. Lind said about the sleeve of Valerie’s dress, “I can’t make any promises, however.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Valerie said.
“Yes, yes. You can keep your thanks. I’d rather you show your gratitude by stopping this nonsense altogether.”
Mrs. Lind narrowed her eyes at Valerie as though waiting for her to promise that she would do just that. But Valerie couldn’t, and, frankly, Mrs. Lind knew that too.
After a moment of silence between them, Mrs. Lind said, “Can you please re-alphabetize the adventure stories? And when you’re done, dust the top of the shelves.”
“Yes –”
“If you finish saying what I think you’re going to say, so help me, I will do what your father refuses to.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Valerie said under her breath.
Mrs. Lind resigned to the counter while Valerie started her work. Children were their most frequent patrons, and sometimes they would leave sections in disarray. They loved holding the books in their hands and looking at the pictures. Some of them couldn’t quite make out the words. Sometimes Valerie would read to them. She liked watching their eyes widen in wonder. It reminded her of when she was a little girl; she used to stay up late to listen to her father’s stories, especially the one about the Beast. That was always her favorite.
Valerie could appreciate the adventures of dreaded pirates and Greek heroes, but her favorite genre was romance. There were rarely any female characters in adventure stories, and most of them were spoken of rather than seen. In the romance books, the ladies were sometimes permitted to follow the hero wherever he went. There was a sort of magic to them; no matter what dire situations the couples were plagued with, they always succeeded and ended up together. Valerie once thought her parents would make great characters in a romance novel. Her father was utterly mad about her mother, and her death was almost too much for him to bear. Coupled with what happened to him during the war, Valerie could almost understand why he turned to drinking and fighting. In a way, reading those books was Valerie’s “drink.” When she read about heroines like Caroline and Cynthia and Emily, she found herself stepping into their shoes, becoming mysterious, sweet, and desirable all at once. Sometimes, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she would recall her favorite lines and pretend she was wearing those pretty dresses in the window of the tailor’s shop. And the heroes they met weren’t half bad, either. Saxon and Daniel and Gregory: she could see herself spending time with them if they were real.
What she could live without was the stupid dialogue between the characters, the proclamations of everlasting love. Love was not everlasting.
Her mother’s death had taught her that much.
Mrs. Lind promptly closed shop when the clock tower began to ring the four o’clock hour. She gave Valerie a wary glance as she held up the bag of dead rabbits, as though she was deciding whether or not to give it back and whether doing so would be an act of encouragement. It spoke volumes that Mrs. Lind handed over Valerie’s pay before she handed over the rabbits. In the end, she gave them to Valerie without much fuss.
“Until tomorrow,” she said.
Valerie wished her a good evening (adding a “ma’am” at the end for good measure) and proceeded down the lane to her house. The buildings along her street reminded her of crooked teeth in a grey mouth. They certainly weren’t as nice as the buildings near Aubrey Manor. The manor rested on the tallest hill in Leola, and Valerie saw it as a white eye staring down at the rest of the town. Valerie had only ever seen Lord Aubrey once when he dismissed her father from the guardsmen’s service. She barely remembered him. She supposed she should hate Lord Aubrey—that she should blame him for everything her father went through—but being angry at him was like being angry at the wall. There were more important matters that required her energy, such as making it home in time to make a good rabbit stew and whether or not her father would be home on time to enjoy it.
She entered her house to see her father sitting at the dining table as though he had been waiting for her for quite some time. He undoubtedly still felt guilty about last night. He meant well. He always did.
Valerie resembled her father more than her mother. She had his dark brown eyes and long, lanky frame. She did not have her father’s scarred, leathery skin and the despair he often wore like a branding mark. War left him to deal with ghosts and a bad leg. When her mother was alive, her father smiled all the time. When she reminded her father of that now, he replied, “Now I save all my best smiles for you.”
Her father was offering his best smile now. He greeted her with an embrace and a kiss to the top of her head. “Did you have a good day at the shop?” he asked. He glanced down at the bag in her hand and then quickly looked away as though he could not bear to see it.
“Yes, Papa. Did you have a good day at the smith’s?”
Her father worked at the gunsmith near the edge of upper-Leola. He helped make guns for Lord Aubrey’s men.
“It was tolerable,” her father said. “Everyone is stressed about the deadline. It seems nobody is ready for Lord Aubrey’s son to take the seat.”
Valerie set the dead rabbits on the counter. “I’m sure you will make it. You always do.”
Her father stood at the dining table. Valerie could feel his eyes on her back.
“Did you have many customers?” he asked.
“A few. They came in sparingly.”
“That is unfortunate. Did you bring anything to read?”
“A Saxon Matthews book.” Saxon Matthews was a romance series that Valerie loved. She sometimes read them to her father while he sat in his chair and smoked his pipe. He’d say, “Now there’s a man I’d want to see you with,” at her description of the series hero.
“Ah. I wonder what he’s up to this time.”
“Well, we’ll see after supper.”
Valerie succeeded in removing the heads and began skinning the bodies. The smell of blood was potent.
“Did you hear about Mr. Randall?” her father asked.
Valerie sighed. She did not know Mr. Randall, but she was certain she knew what happened to him. “No, I did not.”
“He’s gone missing—has been gone for several days now.”
Valerie had heard such stories of people vanishing in the forest. At first, she thought they were tales to warn children against going in and getting lost under the dense crown of trees. However, a few days after her birthday, Mrs. Knott’s son left to get married and was never heard from again. Disappearing was a frightening prospect, but to Valerie, starvation was worse.
“That is unfortunate, Papa.”
“It’s been happening quite a lot recently—more people missing every day. I hear Lord Aubrey is considering sending his men into the forest to investigate.”
“Hmm.”
“The guards might catch you stealing.”
If they do, I’ll act like I’m thick in the head, Valerie thought. That’s what got her out of most similar situations. I don’t know any better, sirs. I was just trying to help the poor animal.
“Or you might be…”
Valerie turned to face her father. His hand was on his mouth as though he couldn’t bear to say the word.
“You know I don’t mean to keep…” His shoulders slumped over in defeat.
“I know,” Valerie said softly.
“Things are going to get better,” he continued. “I’m not going to keep forcing you to put yourself in danger. I’m going to get better. I’m going to be a better father.”
“Papa –”
He held up his hand. “Don’t. I’m supposed to keep us together. If I can’t fulfill that duty, then I am less than a man.”
Valerie walked over to him and embraced him as tight as she could. She had heard those words before. Their effect had dulled over time, but she could never stop loving her father.
He meant well.
He always did.



about the author (3)
 
AuthorPic
 
A.R. DAVIS first picked up writing at age six after getting annoyed that the characters weren't right in a Donkey Kong Country novelization. She loved it so much that she went on to graduate with a BFA in Creative Writing at UNCW. Visit her site: http://pencilprofessional.com/ to learn more and connect.
 
media (3)
 
Amazon (1)facebookgoodreadsTwitter
 
 
giveaway (2)
 
 

Character

Character Name: Valerie Mason

Character Bio: clip_image002

Age: 17 years old at the time of this interview
Town of Birth: Leola
Known Whereabouts: Unknown
Parents: Deceased
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Hazel
(This is the last known interview Ms. Mason was willing to give. As you can see, she offers no explanation of where she had been for the last year. We know she was living with someone and was possibly involved romantically, though she denies it. She was found by a group of Lord Aubrey’s men, and it is speculated that she had been wandering in the woods for several days. She had been held at the Aubrey estate for about three weeks. During the time of the execution, she had escaped. No one has seen or heard from her since.)

 

Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

I think my best quality is my perseverance. Even when things get rough, I try to keep going. I do my best to care for others, even setting aside what I want because I don’t want to be selfish. And I always try to see the good in people. My father killed many in the war, but I still think he’s a good man.

My worst quality would have to be that I care too much sometimes. It sort of . . . well, it didn’t go well for me. That’s all I’ll say.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

I wish other people knew about my life before . . . well . . . before everything happened. After I lost everything. Most people look at me with pity now. But all that, I was normal and happy and relatively unknown. I wish I could go back to that time.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

It’s . . . I . . . I don’t know if I want to talk about it, yet. It’s still raw for me. All I will say is that I did the best I could. I only wanted to be happy, and I wanted to be selfish. And I thought that, if I could just keep pretending, I could stay there.

Was that really so wrong of me?

What are you most afraid of?

I’m afraid of the future. I’m honestly not sure what’s going to happen to me now. I’ve had this worry ever since my mother died, and I don’t know if it will ever go away. But I have to keep going, right? I have to see things through, even if I’d rather just stay in bed sometimes.

What do you want more than anything?

I just want to be happy and live a good, full life. I want to see the world and stop being so ignorant of the things I don’t know.

What is your relationship status?

. . .

It’s over. Though, I suppose it never really started. I think he loved me. And I think I wanted him to. But maybe that was all a lie.

Sorry, I’m rambling.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

I wear whatever is convenient and whatever I can afford.

How much of a rebel are you?

More than I’d like to admit, I suppose. I didn’t exactly follow the normal society rules when I agreed – I mean, after I agreed. I didn’t exactly agree the first time – to live with him. But maybe that isn’t exactly rebellious.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

I don’t think I’ve quite gotten there yet. Wouldn’t it be sad if the greatest thing I was ever going to do happened right now? Then what would I have to look forward to? Right now, I live my life. I’m trying to figure out what I’m moving towards.

What is your idea of happiness?

Getting on a ship and traveling the world. Also reading all of the Saxon Matthew books in existence. You haven’t heard of it? You can borrow one of mine. But only borrow. I would like to have that back.

What is your current state of mind?

I have a lot of regret. And I think . . . I think I miss him. Is that strange? How could someone like that be the most important person in my life? And yet that’s how it is. Sometimes I wonder if he even thinks of me.

Probably not. It’s not like I really meant anything to him.

What is your most treasured possession?

The figurine of The Beast. It was the only real possession my father owned. That, and the book I’m going to let you borrow.

How did I get it?

You’ll have to ask him.

What is your most marked characteristic?

I have my mother’s hair. It’s curly to the point of being unruly. It doesn’t matter how many times I brush it; it still insists on poofing out like a little brown cloud.

What is it that you most dislike?

Dishonesty. People keeping me against my will. People thinking they know what I want in my life. People not telling me how they feel.

Which living person do you most despise?

Are you really asking me that? After all I’ve told you? I would think it would be obvious.

You can miss and hate someone. Feelings are complicated. They don’t have to be neatly categorized like books.

It’s funny because if you had asked me before all this, I would have said my father. Sometimes I blame him just as much as myself. But he’s gone. Has been for a while. It wouldn’t be fair of me.

What is your greatest regret?

That I wasn’t there for my father when he needed me most.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

I . . . uh, I don’t know. Honesty. He has to like reading, at least. He has to be kind. Understanding. Do you think you could be my type? Or does my past disarm you?

You don’t have to answer that. I was only kidding with you.

Here’s a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off your brow.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

I like your way of forward thinking! I’ve never actually thought about being with a woman. I suppose I would value the same qualities as I do in a man. It all depends on if I would be ready for a relationship with either. If I could rid myself of my lingering feelings, it would be easier.

No, I never said I loved him. I said I missed him. There’s a distinction.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Saxon Matthews. I hear there might be a new book soon.

Which living person do you most admire?

Captain Jonasson. He is a good, honest man. I appreciated what he’s done for me while I’m here.

What is your motto?

“It is better to travel well than to arrive.” –Buddha

Monday, November 9, 2015

Series Blast & Giveaway: What Happens In Venice Trilogy by Diana Cachey @dianacachey

Diana Cachey Banner 851 x 315

 

Series

 

What Happens In Venice Trilogy

Diana Cachey

Genre: Paranormal Romance

TAGLINE: Among the romantic canals of Venice—and oh so many Italian distractions—can a stunning American lawyer, her psychic sister and a free-spirited best friend, help the Ghosts of Venice solve a hushed up crime?

About the Series:

Louisa Mangotti, an American lawyer working as an Interpol expert for the international crime unit in Venice, receives a mysterious postcard from the Venetian ghosts, ancient protectors of the Republic. She scoffs at the ghosts, who plant clues for her to help them solve a hushed up crime that threatens Venice, because she suspects her bad boy ex-lover, Matteo, has crafted a plan to distract her from his own involvement in the crime. Nonetheless she’s forced to depend on him to decipher clues, including diving with him on a haunted shipwreck in the lagoon and venturing to far out hidden islands. Her sister, who communes with ghosts, arrives to rescue Louisa but is lured away from the chase into a steamy affair with a possible phantom. Another feisty foreigner, Louisa’s best friend Rebecca, further spices up the action and adds to the antics when she visits for Carnival and samples the Venetian charm and romance. More sexy men, as well as ghosts, distract the women as they follow a maze of cryptic clues, baffling signs and cunning messengers.

As the three women fall deeper into the whirlpool of the mysterious lagoon town, its wonderful sights, and alluring men, they continue to navigate a stormy course. With time running out, can the beauties solve a crime that threatens the future of Venice itself?

On top of being sexy, gorgeous and classy, Louisa Mangotti is a respected attorney and Interpol expert who is puzzled by the odd postcard that arrives in her mailbox signed mysteriously… "Venetian Ghosts". She assumes it's a quixotic attempt by her bad-boy ex, Matteo, to re-ignite their relationship. Louisa may have dismissed the ghosts, but the ghosts aren’t quite done with her.

Ghosts take over Venice video, Part One

https://youtu.be/GKlQhIjm1vY

Ghosts take over Venice video Part Two

https://youtu.be/V673QdQZQwM

Available at Amazon

Halloween Day of the Dead Sale .99 cents!!

Keywords: 1. Chick lit mystery 2. Venice fiction 3. Ghosts 4. Paranormal mystery 5. Contemporary women novels 6. Travel Italy

 

 

clip_image002Love Spirits

What Happens In Venice

Book One

Diana Cachey

About the Love Spirits:

When the bodies of two glass makers wash up on Murano Island, the cryptic messages persist. Louisa is drawn to the story of the Venetian ghosts and initiates a personal investigation. Reluctantly, Louisa calls upon her bad boy ex, Matteo, to help decipher the clues. Before she knows it, a flame that was never fully extinguished is unexpectedly rekindled.

Sensing that her sister is in over her head, Barbara Mangotti rushes to the rescue, only to be lured away by two hard-to-resist good-looking Venetian men.

With time running out, can these two beauties solve a crime that could threaten the city of Venice itself?

This book is like a magic carpet ride that takes you to Venice, capturing in a most wonderful way its unique allure and mystery. Part travelogue, part mystery, part romance novel, it will warm your heart, send goosebumps up your spine, and leave you breathless.

Available at Amazon

Excerpt

From the Top of Our Great Bell Tower

Saint Mark Square

Venice, Italy

Dear wide-eyed tourist,

Don’t go to Venice.

But if you do, don’t fall in -- in a canal, in love or into Venice itself. As if you have a choice. Hear us cackling?

Listen. We came to warn you about La Serenissima, the Most Serene One, as Venice has been called since before the Middle Ages. You will not heed our warning and you will come looking for us. How do we know? It happens every time a Venetian ghost story is told.

As ancient protectors of the Venetian republic, we ghosts guard her virtues of which she has many. One reason we love her, and you will too, is that she is stuck in time. Did you know Venice functions without motorcars or trucks? We don’t like motorcars or trucks. Hundreds of tiny islands sewn together by foot bridges leaves no need for noisy, fume-spewing vehicles, thankfully.

We prefer floating.

Our classic transport is the gondola. Mostly reserved for you tourists now, gondolas are and always have been helmed by the most prestigious oarsmen in the world -- highly trained gondoliers who stand while rowing through the labyrinth of canals. They don’t mind when we ride with or without you while they serenade us with opera, Frank Sinatra songs and romantic favorites.

Ah yes, romance. As one visitor put it, “It’s their schtick, a Venetian ploy, an act to get sexy with you.” It is true. Venice equals romance equals sex.

If the shadows of Venice frighten you or you feel like you’re in a dream, have fun with it, float with us. We are watching over you. We want to further your journey to a more magical life because we think a person is charmed by a trip to La Serenissima.

It could change your soul forever. Just ignore this cautionary tale.

We remain in your service,

The Venetian Ghosts

 

clip_image004Lagoon Lure

What Happens in Venice

Book Two

Diana Cachey

About the Lagoon Lure:

Sexy sleuth Louisa is back! She captivated romance novel readers and mystery lovers in Love Spirits, the first book of the intriguing international mystery and crime series, What Happens in Venice. Book Two, Lagoon Lure, continues this seductive ghost story and resumes the carnal pleasures, conspiracy and corruption.

American in Venice, Louisa, resumes her Venetian exploits, steamy love affairs and paranormal assisted murder investigation she began in Love Spirits. The mystery and romance further ensnares her in the second book of the What Happens in Venice mystery series.

Still unnerved by the notion that Venice ghost stories are real, Louisa delves further into the mystery of the deaths of two glassmakers while juggling the lustful manipulations of her ex-lover, Matteo, whose role in the double murder grows murkier.

Meanwhile Louisa's usually shy sister, Barbara, explores her new-found sexuality with Venice's willing men, sharing her adventures with her sister but keeping one particularly mysterious man a secret. Romance novel readers will love the changes in her and the tension created by the affairs of the heart that Venice leads her into before she realizes that she's fallen hard despite the haunted happenings around her.

When Louisa's best friend, "Rouge," arrives for Carnival to sample its masked men and create her own romance novel subplots and complicates the situation further by encouraging the sisters to embrace the pleasures of secret Venice. Rouge not only steams up the landscape but she is lured into her own complicated romances and supernatural events, if not a reluctant ghost story or two.

With Venice as the lush backdrop for double murder and a web of passionate intrigue, Louisa deciphers clues planted by ghosts and struggles to resist the wicked charms of the very tempter she suspected in the crimes. Her unfinished romance and ghost story compete against her love affair with Venice and its secrets. While she tries to enjoy her days of Venice travel, food and fashion, as well as her new admirer’s own brand of magic, the mystery of the dead glass makers still looms in the lagoon.

Lively supporting characters add sex, chuckles and suspense to the already twisted plots and turned phrases when they too must navigate Venice mystery, romantic liaisons and the ghost story encounters. The gothic setting, the romance laden environment, the mysterious corners and shadowy lagoon lead everyone astray. Haunted Venice gives everyone plenty to puzzle over right until the end.

Venice cafés, restaurants, and other haunts play a prominent role in this sexy supernatural romance and international crime series about a beautiful American in Venice guided by ghosts to solve the mystery of a hushed-up crime. Paranormal clues and ghost apparitions lead Louisa deeper into the lagoon, and she is forced to reluctantly enlist Matteo's support. Can she trust him, or will this ghostly lagoon lure prove deadly?

Available at Amazon

Excerpt

Venice always delivered. For thousands of years she spread out her bounty for swarms of people who feasted upon her beauty. They stayed in ornate palaces or luxury hotels and paraded in stylish fashions. They admired diverse art, listened to sweet music, sampled delicious food.

They also enjoyed plentiful romantic opportunities.

Ah, the romantic allure of Venice. It continues to this day. Indeed, soon after Barbara’s arrival, Venice offered her no less than three handsome men. Now there stood her sister, Louisa, who begged to hear the dirt on two of them but knew nothing of the third man, the one Barbara wanted most.

She planned to keep him a secret.

Barbara looked around and tried to take it all in, all that Venice had to offer. She saw in front of her a small island, which sat placidly in the lagoon and proudly displayed its huge monastic bell tower. Although a massive presence, this tower was easily dwarfed by the one it faced -- the more famous one -- the one that housed the bells of San Marco. She gazed across the water, let the reflecting sun’s rays warm her face and both Venetian towers began to toll their bells behind her and before her. They echoed across the lagoon, reverberated throughout the tranquil setting. Barbara took note of the bells. She’d been trained by her Italian friends to pay particular attention to what she’d been the thinking in that precise moment these bells began to chime.

She’d been thinking about secrets. That third man. He must remain her secret.

Thus began her diversion, a long philosophical theory about her twin orange cats.

“Back home in Seattle,” she said, “my cats confuse and distract me during morning meditation, just like those two Venetian men did my first night in Venice. The two inquisitive cats circle my cushion then jump on the table where I offer blessings of flowers and candy. They sniff and inspect as if they’ve never seen the ritual before.” 

Louisa yawned.

“Those cats seem to see me anew each day, as a thing they need to supervise, approve or inspect. Eventually, they settle nearby to meditate on their own. They observe my struggle to quiet my mind while they remain perfect little meditators. Those two Venetian men were the same. While I was nervous and disquieted, they just purred.”

Louisa frowned.

 

clip_image006Magic Island

What Happens In Venice

Book Three

Diana Cachey

About Magic Island:

Sexy sleuth Louisa is back — with Venice as the lush backdrop for double murder and a web of passionate intrigue. In this final installment of the Trinity, Louisa captivates readers by deciphering clues planted by ghosts & struggling to resist the wicked charms of the very tempter she suspects. Her unfinished love story continues to compete against her love affair with Venice and its secrets. She tries to enjoy her days of Venice travel, food and fashion and new admirer’s own brand of magic but the mystery of the dead glass makers still looms in the lagoon.

Lively supporting characters add more sex, chuckles and suspense to the already twisted plots and turned phrases as they too must navigate their own romantic liaisons and thought provoking ghost encounters. Magic Island gives everyone plenty to puzzle over right up to its surprising finish!

Available at Amazon

Excerpt

 

At the landing point, halfway to the upper level, she felt it. A cold wind blew.

Why would the thrift shop women leave the window open during one of the coldest days of the year? Venetians, and Italians generally, were obsessed with energy conservation, not out of duty or political bent, but out of necessity or greed. Why would the darling elf-man allow it? Why hadn’t he gone up to close it?

She blinked.

In the second floor attic room, a man stood by the open window and fanned himself. He’d removed his coat, hat, scarf and shirt. Bare-chested, he was about to try on what looked to be the next best deal in the shop, a cashmere sweater with Armani label.

The room wasn’t suffering from the dreaded “they heat the place like people don’t always come in dressed for the outdoors.” It was not an unbearable oven. It was chilly. Yet sweat poured down the man’s face.

Louisa couldn’t help but stare for he stood half naked with perfect abdomen and a peek of what was below the belt. His pants hung low on his tan, tempting, tapered waist.

The man jumped and gave an unnecessary apology in thick Buranese dialect.

“My name is Antonin. Your friend, Marco, sent me,” he whispered. He made no attempt to cover up for which Louisa gave another silent nod of gratitude.

She stepped closer then remembered she was supposed to seek guidance before acting. She started to speak but he gestured for her to be quiet and pulled her to the window. He pointed to the canal.

Not exactly the answer to my prayers, but go with it, she reckoned.

She leaned squarely up against him then wrapped an arm around his waist, that tempting, tapered waist.

He felt her desire rising so he moved them both away from the window where he pulled his pants a little further down to reveal those, those whatever those lines are, those muscle things that go diagonally from the hips to the important region.

“Spetta mattimo,” he whispered, “wait a minute,” or something like that, and he pressed his hips against hers.

“Prima, guarda la,” (First, look at this) he said and nodded towards the window.

************

  

 

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the author

clip_image008

Diana Cachey is a licensed attorney, published academic, and former adjunct law professor. She also holds a BA in English, and while in law school, she was the first female editor in chief of her university’s law review.

The author of the novel Love Spirits, she has trained with several New York Times best-selling writers, including Robert Allen, with more than seventy-two million books sold.

For more than a decade, Cachey has been traveling to Venice, the setting of her novel, on extended trips several times a year. The cafés, restaurants, and many other haunts of Venice play a prominent role in her sexy paranormal mystery-romance about a beautiful American lawyer guided by the Ghosts of Venice in the investigation of a hushed-up crime.

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00N6HDHSG

https://www.youtube.com/user/dcachey

@dianacachey

https://www.facebook.com/diana.cachey

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Diana-Cachey/153347544749839

HAUNTEDP-PALOOZA VIDEO: https://youtu.be/4wTodeBxiY8

T