Sunday, January 24, 2016

A Giveaway to Celebrate the Release of Feline Valentine: Yummy Paranormal Romantic Comedy from Tara Quan

Today I am so happy to welcome Tara Quan to the blog with a wonderful preview of her new multicultural paranormal romantic comedy, Feline Valentine. I'm sure you'll agree, it sounds delicious! Enjoy!
A year ago, I released Fireworks at Midnight, thinking I would leave the world of A Witch’s Night Out forever (I’d planned the series as a trilogy). Unfortunately, my characters had other plans. Since I’d sicced Madame Eve on her cat familiar, earth mage Shelley Dupree insisted I make things right. To be fair, I’d already given her a magical handicap, forced her under house arrest, and buried her in bills—taking away her feline companion did seem a cruel and unusual punishment.

It took me two months of fictional time to even the scales with Feline Valentine.  Part of Decadent Publishing’s 1Night Stand series, my interracial paranormal romance is set in Washington, D.C., where magic-wielding folk try to live alongside us pesky humans. It’s my first true “shifter” AND “foodie” romance (talk about ticking two boxes with one book), and a quick read of the blurb should tell you what I mean.

To celebrate this unexpected return to my favorite series, I’m giving away a $15 gift card. To enter, leave a comment here and drop your details in the Rafflecopter widget at the bottom of this post, or at my website:

Feline Valentine 
(A Witch’s Night Out) 
by Tara Quan

Under magical house arrest in her great-grandmother’s suburban cottage, college graduate and reluctant earth mage Shelley Dupree whiles away most mornings spying on the warlock next door. Though erotic daydreams offer some distraction, she faces long working hours, cash flow problems, and a repeat burglar. On Valentine’s Day, she sets a trap for the mysterious intruder, intent on ending his crime streak once and for all. But her scheming cat familiar foils her best-laid plans, and, with a little help from Madame Eve’s 1-Night Stand service, she discovers a far more dangerous species of magical feline.

After moving in next to a ramshackle building on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., pastry chef Adrien Chatdurois is plagued by repeat sexual fantasies starring the same curvy brunette. In a state of constant arousal, he devotes his early mornings to grueling exercise and spends the rest of his day handcrafting the city’s best chocolates. When his younger brother stirs up trouble on the shop’s busiest day, the frustrated shifter is forced to pay a surprise visit on his reclusive neighbor. He soon learns not all witches are wart-covered hags, and one in particular might prove the most delicious of desserts.

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Interracial/Multicultural


Adrien finished slotting the tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries into the case’s most prominent spot. In honor of Valentine’s Day, he’d drawn a Cupid’s bow on each fruit using melted white chocolate. Beaming a proud smile at the appetizing array, he made a mental note to drop off any remainders on his next-door neighbor’s porch after closing time.

With the notion came a sudden compulsion to also send a bottle of bubbly. Rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in his fatigued muscles, he tentatively added champagne to the shopping list. If today’s profits met expectations, he should be able to gift the old lady some booze.

Less than a second later, an image of a bottle of peach Schnapps flashed over his vision. Stepping to his left, he took off the wool hat and placed it next to the cash register. Why was his brain fixating on ingredients for a Bellini? He didn’t even like cocktails.

White heat flashed over his vision. He found himself on his knees, crouched over a soft feminine body. Fizzy, bubbly liquid slicked skin the color of caramel. When her back arched, the drink sluiced over a set of tensed, quivering abs to soak her lacy pink waistband. He dipped his head, his tongue trailing over the potent mixture of peach, alcohol, and woman. He dug his fingers into her lush hips, tilting her in the opposite direction so the remaining liquid trickled over her ribs to catch along the underwire of her bra. Capitalizing on the excuse to taste, he—

Fingers snapped repeatedly in front of his face. “Oy. Where the hell did you go?”

With a sigh, he directed his gaze at his sibling. “Bass, what the hell do you want?” Their two-year age gap allowed for a healthy dose of fraternal bonding, but a lifetime as the man’s big brother had also built up baseline cynicism. Sebastien’s unannounced visits tended to have odd and oftentimes very expensive consequences.

Buy Links

About the Author

Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, Tara enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, paranormal worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Her characters, armed with magical powers or conventional weapons, are guaranteed a suspenseful and sensual ride, as well as their own happily ever after. To receive updates about her new releases and get a free sexy read, subscribe to her mailing list at

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Finding Fulfillment in an Age When Women Had Little Power: Guest Post by Beverley Oakley

The powerlessness of women in the historical age in which I set my stories – Georgian or Regency or Victorian – is a huge fascination for me and underpins many of my plots.

How could a woman worthy and intelligent enough to warrant being a heroine in one of my books find fulfillment in a society which considered only a rudimentary education for girls sufficient? The merest slur upon her reputation could render her unmarriageable when becoming a wife, or a nun, were the only acceptable paths for which she’d been groomed since birth.

Even if she came from a wealthy family, a woman had no financial independence. Whether she was married or single, her father, brother or husband controlled the purse strings and decided her allowance. If she were from a poor family and had to work for wages, her husband owned what she earned. If he drank the proceeds, was violent to wife and children and she ran away, the law was on his side. Like the chattel or property she was, she belonged to him and would be returned, if found. If the marriage broke down, the children belonged to him.

It wasn’t until 1870 when the first Married Women’s Property Act was passed, that married women were entitled to keep their own earnings.

If a woman was single and working, she earned a fraction of what men earned. In the garment industry, which had a predominantly female workforce, it was common that even sixteen-hour days would not earn a woman enough to pay the bills. Supplementing these meagre wages by selling her body was often her only means of survival and accounted for the high number of prostitutes and street walkers recorded by mid-Victorian British social researcher and journalist Henry Mayhew in his detailed reports on London’s Working Poor and London’s Underworld.

It wasn’t until the Act of 1882 that married women were given the same rights over their property as unmarried women (though this property was generally administered by their closest male relative.) Prior to this, any property a woman owned, which could include land, houses and homes, automatically passed into the ownership of her husband upon marriage. Finally, the second 1893 Act gave married women control of any kind of property acquired during marriage, such as an inheritance.

A woman really didn’t have much room in which to manoeuvre. Trading on her looks, natural cunning and wit, combined with a bit of luck in getting away with how daring she was prepared to be, often determined how successful and happy she might find herself.

I had a lot of fun writing Dangerous Gentlemen, knowing how much my heroine has to lose by first taking a risk, then being caught out in a double life. Hetty, a viscount’s daughter, once counted on a handsome dowry to win her a husband, a passport to what she’d believed would be a life of ease. But the financial difficulties of her father have made her future uncertain. Now she believes she’ll be denied the love match she’s set her heart on – losing out to her beautiful elder sister – so that when she inadvertently lands herself in hot water, she makes a rash decision, as alluded to in the premise below:

Shy, plain Hetty was the wallflower beneath his notice…until a terrible mistake has one dangerous, delicious rake believing she's the prostitute he ordered.

And this response from Natalie at Romantic Historical Reviews was just what I’d hoped for: "I have to be honest; when I first read the description of Dangerous Gentlemen, I was a little incredulous. It seemed to be an impossibly tall order! How, in Regency London, with all its rules and societal restrictions, was Ms Oakley going create a scenario where a respectable, wallflower, débutante who is barely ready for the spotlight could be mistaken for a prostitute? Well, it turns out not only does Oakley manage it but she does so without making all the characters seem like 21st century people masquerading as Regency characters."

Like my heroine, I was taking risks when I wrote this story, the ending of which I’ve revised since it was first published by Ellora’s Cave several years ago. I hope you enjoy it.
Dangerous Gentlemen is available as a pre-order until it releases on January 21, and only 99c until February 3.

Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and 1 ebook of Her Gilded Prison (Book 1 in the Daughters of Sin). Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. Those locations may be found here.

Dangerous Gentlemen 
Daughters of Sin Book 2
By Beverley Oakley

Shy, self-effacing Henrietta knows her place—in her dazzling older sister’s shadow. She’s a little brown peahen to Araminta’s bird of paradise. But when Hetty mistakenly becomes embroiled in the Regency underworld, the innocent debutante finds herself shockingly compromised by the dashing, dangerous Sir Aubrey, the very gentleman her heart desires. And the man Araminta has in her cold, calculating sights.

Branded an enemy of the Crown, bitter over the loss of his wife, Sir Aubrey wants only to lose himself in the warm, willing body of the young “prostitute” Hetty. As he tutors her in the art of lovemaking, Aubrey is pleased to find Hetty not only an ardent student, but a bright, witty and charming companion.

Despite a spoiled Araminta plotting for a marriage offer and a powerful political enemy damaging his reputation, Aubrey may suffer the greatest betrayal at the hands of the little “concubine” who’s managed to breach the stony exterior of his heart.


[In this extract, Hetty, a debutante and viscount’s daughter, is returning from the mending room at a ball when she learns that a certain interesting and ‘dangerous gentleman’ is a house-guest.]

With a furtive look around her, Hetty hurried left and up the stairs, at which point two corridors at right angles disappeared into darkness. Choosing the one to the right, she found herself face-to-face with a series of closed doors.

Foolish, she chided herself. Of course they were closed and she could hardly open them. As she turned back toward the ballroom, a faint light shining from the crack beneath a door that was slightly ajar gleamed beckoningly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she approached it, and when she gave the door a little nudge with her foot, it swung open.

Excitement rippled through her.

“Hello?” she asked in a low voice. She took another step into the room. “Is anyone in here?”

Silence. A low fire burned in the grate before which was a table, against which were propped several items, including a familiar silver-topped cane. Her breath caught. The last time she’d seen that cane was when Sir Aubrey had exchanged several words with Araminta in the street as Hetty had been bringing up the rear with Mrs. Monks. Of course Sir Aubrey had not looked twice at her, excusing himself before having to be introduced to the younger sister and the chaperone who’d nearly closed the gap.

Heart hammering, Hetty closed the door behind her and went to pick up the cane.

How fortunate to have stumbled into Sir Aubrey’s room, she thought when she observed the fine coat lying upon the bed, apparently discarded in favor of what he was wearing tonight.

He really was a nonpareil, wearing his clothes as if they were an extension of his athletic physique.
Yet he was dangerous, she had to remind herself. Meaning she should not be here, which of course she shouldn’t, regardless of whether he was dangerous or not.

But how such a scion of good breeding and genteel society could be guilty of such a heinous crime as treason, Hetty could not imagine. And surely the story of the runaway wife was a gilded one. It was all the stuff of make-believe and Cousin Stephen was only telling Hetty he was dangerous to curb her schoolroom daydreams.

Turning, she saw half protruding from beneath the suit of clothes what appeared to be the edge of a silver, filigreed box. It was partly obscured by the overhang of the counterpane, as if it hadn’t properly been returned to its hiding place.

A moment’s indecision made her pause but soon Hetty was crouching on the floor, closing clammy fingers around the box. Might it contain secrets? Ones that would reveal, conclusively, what Cousin Stephen claimed was true?

Alternatively, proof that would exonerate Sir Aubrey?

Hetty fumbled for the catch. Dear Lord, this was too exciting for words. Perhaps Sir Aubrey was a secret agent working for the English, and Stephen had no idea.

Perhaps he was—

Protesting door hinges made her squeal as the door was flung wide. Hetty let the lid of the box fall and retreated into the shadows as Sir Aubrey strode into the room.

He was breathing heavily as he shrugged off his jacket with a curse, raindrops spattering into the hissing fire as he raked his fingers through his hair. A curious stillness overtook him and he froze, obviously sensing all was not as he left it.

He sniffed the air. “Orange flower water,” he muttered, stepping closer to the fire, fumbling for the tinderbox on the mantelpiece to light a candle.

Immediately he was thrown into sharp relief and as he stared at Hetty, it was not his look of shock and suspicion that made her scream—but the copious amounts of blood that stained his shirtsleeves and once snowy linen cravat.

“God Almighty, who are you?” he demanded as his gaze raked her finery. “You’re no parlor maid, that’s for certain.”

Gaping, unable to formulate a sensible answer, Hetty finally managed, “What happened to your arm, Sir Aubrey? Are you injured?”

“Sir Aubrey, is it? So you know who I am but you still haven’t told me who you are?” He grunted as he looked down at his arm, the bloodied linen shredded over the long graze. “It’s not as bad as it looks and I assure you, I gave a good account of myself.” His laugh was more a sneer. “Indeed, my assailant lies dead in the gutter.”

Hetty gasped. “Dueling?” Myriad questions crowded her mind. Could this be to do with Araminta? Had Sir Aubrey left Araminta in the middle of the ball to fight some other contender for her affections?

“Dueling?” he repeated. He shook his head and Hetty drew back at the coldness in his eyes. “There was nothing noble about my activities this evening. I was set upon in a dark alley. A short scuffle ensued, I drew my knife, then…” With his hand, he made a gesture like the slitting of his throat, adding, “I am slightly wounded but as I said, my attacker does not live to repeat the insult.”

Her horror clearly amused him, for his eyes narrowed while his generous mouth quirked. He looked like an incarnation of the most handsome demon she’d ever seen depicted in the fairy stories she loved to read.

“We all have enemies, madam. Enemies who must be eliminated if we are to breathe freely.”
Aubrey was enjoying the girl’s wide-eyed terror. No doubt she imagined he’d sliced the throat of a footpad, not the snarling, mangy cur who had leapt upon him as he’d been returning from his brief assignation to settle a gaming debt incurred by his favorite reprobate nephew.

Taking pity on her, he said reassuringly, “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.’ Her wide-eyed look as he removed first his jacket, then the bloodied shirt he tossed upon the bed before he rose to his full height, bare chested, afforded him the most amusement he’d had in a long time. “So, you’re the girl Madame Chambon sent?”

Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.
Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances filled with mystery, intrigue and adventure. Most are set in London ballrooms and country estates during the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth-century lunatic asylum. She also writes less steamy historicals and romantic suspense set in Colonial Africa, where she was born, as Beverley Eikli.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Cover Reveal: Seduction in Seville by Olivia Night

Seduction in Seville 
The Men of FTI, Book #2
Release Date: February 1st, 2016
By Olivia Night

In a hospital in Seville, Spain, Patrick Kane lies in a coma. Ambushed and shot while protecting someone important to him, he fights to survive. 

She never thought she would see him again. Patrick, the man who’d brought her back. 

Eight years ago, Patrick Kane, a joint partner in Fairlane Trade International, descended into a basement of horrors. That horrible day he rescued many women, but one he would always remember. Her beautiful doe eyes filled his dreams and haunted his nightmares. 

Madison Lockwood, a nurse, has struggled to put her past behind her, trying to forget the time she spent in captivity. But she recognizes the man who rescued her and brought her out of that terrifying reality. She owes him her life. Patrick is gravely injured, and Madison vows to see him through. 

When Patrick opens his eyes, he instantly knows that he made a mistake leaving Madison after freeing her from the clutches of a human trafficking ring. She is meant to be his. As Patrick tries to win over a wary Madison, the past they both thought was gone for good comes back with a vengeance. One by one, the survivors of the horrific ordeal are being murdered. Patrick knows that Madison will be next if he doesn’t protect her. 

Together they must fight for their survival. Seduction In Seville, book two in the Men of FTI series, is a tale of redemption, murder, new beginnings, and love that takes the reader on a wild, exotic ride.


Madison remembered staring up at him after he had extended his hand to her, and preparing herself for what was to come. What she’d assumed was going to come. But it never had. It had been his eyes that had brought her back. They were the most mesmerizing emerald green. They shone in his face like a lighthouse would during a terrible storm. His eyes, like the lights, meant safety. He had, very gently, taken her hand and lifted her to her feet. Madison had averted her gaze then. She had been afraid to hope, thinking them coming to rescue her was some sick psychological game. 

He hadn’t touched her, but dropped his face so his gaze could reach hers. “You’re safe now,” he’d said as a small, gentle smile played at his lips. 

“You’re safe now,” he repeated. 

She remembered throwing herself into his arms and sobbing. The man had moved his body away from hers, not allowing them to touch other than her arms around his neck and her face buried there too. All she had thought to say had been “thank you,” so she’d repeated it over and over again. He’d stood that way with her for a long time. Madison hadn’t given any thought to how she might have looked or, worse, smelled. 

She’d stood there crying uncontrollably and rejoicing that it was over. Eventually, the exhaustion of being there for as long as she had, the exhaustion from constantly fighting for survival, the exhaustion of having given up, hit her, and her knees had begun to give out. He’d walked her to the stairs, and somehow he knew those stairs seemed too high. Too daunting. 

So he’d told her, “I’m going to pick you up, okay?” 

She could only nod, her face still pushed into his neck. He had scooped her up as if she’d weighed nothing. 

Madison remembered being placed in a Jeep and the man gently buckling her in. He had begun to close the door and seemed ready to walk away, but Madison had protested. “Please...could you stay with me?” 

Her voice had been soft and weak. She had been so tired. He’d glanced over at another man who was orchestrating arrangements for the rest of the women who had been saved. They had been creating a triage, of sorts. Those who’d needed urgent care and had been the worst off were in Jeeps equipped with stretchers, and two or three other women, like her, had been put in cars. There were some who had been carefully placed on stretchers with blankets over their bodies and faces. Madison hadn’t wanted to look to see where they were going. The guy who was clearly in charge had cast a glance over at her and nodded. Then the man who’d saved her climbed in the backseat and buckled his seat belt as the car started and they’d begun to drive away. 

Bouncing down the unpaved road had jarred her injuries. She’d tried to stay quiet. Even at that point, leaving that awful place, she hadn’t been entirely convinced that this was real. But he had heard her quiet gasps. He’d looked over at her and placed his arm around her shoulders and effectively held her in place so that the bumps along the road did not jar her as much. 

It had been then she’d noticed the scar. Her rescuer had a scar that ran the length of his face. It was almost a perfect diagonal, cutting across his left check, going through his top lip and down into his bottom. It was thin but looked no less viscous. How had he gotten that kind of a scar? But before Madison could give the question any real thought, her eyes had grown heavy, and she focused her energies instead on staying awake. She had been terrified to fall asleep. She had been afraid if she’d closed her eyes she would wake up once again in the basement. 

As if reading her mind, he had turned toward her and whispered, “You’re safe now. You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re safe, I promise.” 

And with that, her eyes had shut. She hadn’t voluntarily touched another human being in months. But she’d wanted him near her. So she’d laid her head on his strong shoulder and slept. She’d woken in the hospital a few days later. Emerald Eyes had been gone. And now, eight years later, it was her turn to save him.

Olivia Night, a fictional character herself, has always been an avid reader and writer. She found the romance genre in college and has never been able to get enough. One sleepless night, the main characters of Book One in her Men of FTI series sprang from her head fully formed. They demanded she tell their story; so she did. As they revealed themselves, so did two other intriguing characters. Those characters convinced her to give them their own books because their stories were worth telling too. And so Olivia suddenly became a romance author. When Olivia is not writing, she has the best job in the world, which, too, will remain a secret. In her free time, she reads, write, drinks wine, or is, most likely, out emulating Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Olivia lives in one of the most diverse and vibrant cities in the U.S.—Baltimore. She lives with her cat, which she is convinced was a gladiator in his past life. Olivia plans to continue being awesome at this thing called life. Really, that’s her only goal.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Release Day! Bella J's New Contemporary Romance Resplendent Rush is Out Now

Resplendent Rush
Resplendence #2
By Bella J
Release Date: January 11th, 2016

Lexi is a vivacious, quirky, and fiercely independent woman with enough attitude and wit to intimidate even the most confident of men. Levi is a sexy-as-hell, cocksure, smoldering hot marine blessed with smooth swagger and cool confidence to charm his way into any woman’s bed. The one thing they have in common, though, is their disinterest in finding love. She’s determined to not let love interfere and dictate her life. And with his career, he doesn’t need the emotional ties and baggage of love, and dreams of white picket fences.

But a few chance encounters have these two tangled up in one wild, passionate, explosive ride which neither of them expected, and which leaves them completely and utterly addicted to each other. Already in too deep, Lexi stubbornly fights her growing feelings for him and refuses to become vulnerable against the power that love seems to yield. She has witnessed firsthand how loving someone can destroy a person, leaving him defenseless against a life of emotional turmoil. She refuses to let it happen to her.

Levi knows that Lexi is holding back. He knows that she is keeping a part of her heart guarded. He’s determined to burn down the walls she so desperately clings to, and make her surrender her all to him. But with his long-lost brother’s unexpected return comes an inexorable danger that he will do just about anything to protect her from—even if it means losing her, and in the end, breaking her heart.


She hardly knew the guy—but got very well acquainted with his body within the span of three hours. Three hours! The man had become a legend in Lexi’s eyes. 

Then the Legend opened those beautiful green eyes. A contented smile appeared on his face as he closed his eyes and stretched his arms under the pillow, his ass cheeks puckering into curved shapes of hard muscle—which she wanted to squeeze so freakin’ bad. 

“Hey, Petite.” 

“Hey,” she said back and pulled the sheet up. 

One of those green orbs opened and looked at her. “It’s a bit late for modesty, don’t you think?” 

“Who knows, maybe you were too drunk to see anything.” 

“Oh, I saw everything, believe me.” 

She snorted. “I doubt that.” 

Then like one of those freaky fast, stealthy ninjas, he moved, and she was pinned beneath him. Blood rushed to her cheeks. 

“I made sure I saw every inch of you,” he whispered against her lips. A warm fuzzy feeling spread across her chest. 

His hand toyed with the top of the sheet that still covered her, and slowly he moved the fabric down while his eyes followed the movement. 

“Like this little spot”—he stopped and kissed the little dark beauty spot just above the swell of her breast—“right here.” She closed her eyes, unable to stop the tingle that spread all over her skin. 

While she had been busy enjoying the tingles, he suddenly hooked his arm beneath her leg and jerked her thigh up. 

She gasped. He shifted. 

“And like this little spot right here.” His lips found another little beauty mark right on the inside of her thigh, and she thanked the Lord for all the little buggers she had across her body and hoped like hell he planned on going on a treasure hunt. 

Her breathing became more labored when his lips continued in an upward motion—slowly, deliciously making their way up her thigh. Her body responded by moving, searching for more. Just as she wanted to reach for his hair with her fingers, he went completely ninja on her ass and turned her onto her stomach with one swift move of his arm. 

Dear mother of all baby ninjas everywhere. 

He hovered over her naked back and then settled his weight on her. 

Okay, seriously, there was about to be one hell of an explosion right in the middle of Manhattan, and Lexi totally blamed the hot little ass currently kissing trails up her spine. 

Okay, there was nothing little about him, at all. 

“Oh, I remember these little beauties perfectly,” he said softly. She felt him smile on her skin as his lips continued all over her back, and her shoulders, and then down to the area just above the curve of her butt.

Oh, good Lord, her brain was about to turn into mush. Soon—very soon—there would be nothing left of her mind but a whole big bucket of mushy lust. 

She writhed beneath him, unable to keep still for one second longer. He firmly placed his hand on her hip, stilling her. 

His lips moved over the curve of her behind. “Does Petite want more?” 

Um, what kind of a question is that? Stupid, stupid, stupid question. 

He moved up, and the length of his body covered hers. His heat flowed over every inch of her skin, and it rendered her incapable of thinking about anything other than having him right then and there. In fact, her body demanded it. 

She bucked her hips a little and heard him inhale sharply. 

She smiled. “Does that answer your question?” 

He nipped her ear between his teeth. “Oh, hell yes.”

Bella J lives in Cape Town, South Africa with her husband, two kids, & chihuahua. Her love for writing started in eighth grade when she received her first writing assignment—which she flunked. But the positive side of her failure—her newly found passion for writing. The negative side—now she’s completely spaced out half of the time living in her little pretend world of romance, love, & insanely hot heroes.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Cover Reveal! Explore the Darkest Corners of the Sun King's Court in The Long Way Home

Hello everybody! 

I am absolutely delighted to be able to show you the cover of my new book, The Long Way Home. This is the third book of The Southwark Saga, but is a little bit different from the first two. While most of it does not take place in Southwark, you will see many of the same characters from the series in it including Mark, Jane, Meg, Joe Ledford, and of course, Jack and Alice. In this one, Alice is goes waaaaaay outside her comfort zone as she becomes the Mistress of the Marquise de Harfleur's wardrobe. I can't wait to share it with you. Here's the cover!

The Long Way Home

A paranoid king, a poison plot, and hideous shoes…it’s not easy being Cinderella.  

After saving the life of the glamorous Marquise de Harfleur, painfully shy barmaid Alice Henshawe is employed as the lady’s companion and whisked away to Versailles. There, she catches King Louis’ eye and quickly becomes a court favorite as the muse for Charles Perrault’s Cinderella. The palace appears to be heaven itself, but there is danger hidden beneath the façade and Alice soon finds herself thrust into a world of intrigue, murder, and Satanism at the heart of the French court.

Having left his apprenticeship to serve King Charles as a spy, Jack Sharpe is given a mission that may just kill him. In the midst of the Franco-Dutch war, he is to investigate rumors of a poison plot by posing as a courtier, but he has a mission of his own. His childhood friend Alice Henshawe is missing and he will stop at nothing to see her safe. When he finds her in the company of the very people he is meant to be investigating, Jack begins to wonder if the sweet girl he grew up with has a dark side.

When a careless lie finds them accidentally married, Alice and Jack must rely on one another to survive the intrigues of the court. As old affection gives way to new passion, suspicion lingers. Can they trust each other, or is the real danger closer than they suspect?

The Long Way Home is coming out on February 29th from Liquid Silver Books. Check back for updates and pre-order links, or sign up here to receive my shiny new newsletter, The Southwark Standard for periodic updates in your inbox including sales, new releases, special events, and exclusive content related to the series. 

In the meantime, I will be at a couple of great Facebook parties over the next month and I hope you can stop by to join the fun! On Tuesday night I will be at Kat McIntyre's Hunting For Spring Release Day Party at 4:30 EST. I'm also beyond honored that the Belles' Book Club has chosen Tyburn as their book for February. Hurray! We will all be getting together to discuss the book on February 18th, so please stop by to say hello and feel free to bring any questions you have for me! 

Thanks for stopping by & have a great weekend! :) 

Update: You can now pre-order The Long Way Home for 20% off the cover price from Liquid Silver here!