Sunday, July 28, 2013

The Journal


“Come to my study at eight o’clock sharp. Dress for dinner. Wear high heels and put on that dress – you know what I expect of you.” 

When the order comes Livia is torn between anticipation and dread.

Does he know? How could he possibly know what she has done? And how can she find the words and the courage to tell him?

As eight o’clock edges ever nearer, Livia waits outside the study door, trembling; uncertain of what she will find when she comes face to face with her Master.

If he knows… If he does, there will be consequences. There is no doubt about that.

What will be the price for her moment of disobedience?

Excerpt:

He heard the knock on the door of his study. This was her signal that she had complied with all his instructions, not a request to enter. She would come in when he said so and she would never dare to knock again.

He had asked her to dress immaculately, smartly; as if they were going to dinner. Her hair must be perfect, away from her face. Her make up flawless, perhaps to look a little tarty, but she would know how far to go and the penalties for going over the top. She would be wearing elegant, high heeled shoes.

He told her to come in, gently, softly; as if she were merely coming in for a coffee or cocktails. Immediately she stepped into the room; looking down with her hands behind her. She would never look at his face directly without his express permission.

"Come to me."

She had no idea what to expect. Would he be soft and tender? Or would he sweep her off her feet by mauling her like an animal. She knew that her body was his and he could treat it in any way that pleased him.

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently folding it back and forth and her head moved with his every gesture. Then he thrust his fingers deep toward her skull and tugged at her hair, moving her head in all directions. She let out an involuntary squeal.

"This is no time for making such noises."

The quiet scream stopped immediately. She was under his power, his presence; his dominance. There was never any doubt about it.

He put his hands over her eyes and closed them, turning her face downwards. With effortless ease, he bound her hands behind her by her wrists and elbows. He loved the way that this pushed her breasts forwards and outwards. He had no need to bind her but it pleased him; a bound woman was an aesthetic pleasure.

He put one hand over her mouth. The other roamed over every contour of her body; her pouting breasts, her waist, behind her neck. He moved to her pussy and felt that it was already wet. Then both hands wandered quickly and powerfully over her whole body. She let out a yelp of pleasure which he immediately silenced with his strong fingers. She was his to do with as he wished.

He turned away from her, then turned back to look. She was beautiful. She was his. Her pain would be his pleasure...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knocked on the study door, quietly, almost hesitantly. I knew so well the knots in the wood, the whorls and lines of the grain. How many times had I stood here, gazing at this door; trying to guess what would happen when I opened it?

I wondered how long he would have me wait. I didn't know what to think. Did he somehow know what I'd done? Had he been waiting for me to tell him, giving me the chance to own up? Hoping that I would before he had to make me? I couldn’t imagine how he could know, but... he had sounded distracted earlier. Not like himself.

I'd so wanted to confess. I really had. I'd tried all day yesterday. I'd tried today as well but I couldn’t make myself say it. I didn't want to see the look of disappointment in his eyes, the awful expression on his face that would come from knowing I'd done something absolutely forbidden.

And… and I was scared of the punishment, of how bad it would be. And now I’d made it worse. Not only for me but for him too. For how much more I’d let him down by not telling him the truth.

I hoped I could find the nerve to say it now. Maybe I could find a way to explain, though I wasn't sure I could explain it to myself. What on earth had I done?

I hoped he would allow me to speak, or I wouldn't be able to say a word, not even to confess. What would I do then? Wait until he was done with me and then tell him? Wait until he had used my body, whichever way he chose; wait until he had given me pleasure which I surely didn't deserve?

Then what? If I couldn't find the nerve now, if I hadn't found it earlier, what on earth made me think I would find it then?

I reached out and lightly traced the pattern of the wood with a finger tip. My hand was trembling and I slowed my breathing, doing my best to relax.

Then I heard his voice; such a beautiful deep voice, so calm and gentle. It gave me no clue to what he was thinking, to what he would do this time.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, closing it quietly behind me; keeping my eyes lowered the whole time. I clasped my hands behind my back and waited.

"Come to me," he said.

'Always,' I thought. 'Whenever you wish it.' I didn't say it, of course. I knew better than to speak without permission.

I kept my hands behind my back and walked over to him, my high heels clicking on the hard wood floor. I dared not look at him, but I so wanted to. Perhaps for reassurance that he wouldn't hurt me, although I knew he would; perhaps to see if the gentleness in his voice was there in his eyes; perhaps to search for something, anything in his expression to tell me what he was thinking.

He lifted a hand toward my face and I tried not to flinch, but he merely stroked my hair, twining his fingers through the length of it. I began to relax, leaning my head into his hand, until he grabbed a handful of hair close to my scalp and pulled hard, and I couldn't help letting out a small squeak of surprise.

"This is no time for making such noises," he said, still so calmly, so controlled, and I bit back the sound, unable to rid myself of the feeling that this was the calm before the storm.

His fingers gently covered and closed my eyes, and then I stood quietly while he tied my hands behind my back. Now I couldn't even see what was coming, and even if I could, I was helpless to prevent it. 

He clamped his hand firmly over my mouth, stopping even the chance to protest, as his other hand explored my body, stroking and caressing - over my breasts, across my hips, between my legs. I blushed as I realised he must know how aroused I was.

He released my mouth and inspected my body with both hands, squeezing my breasts and my bottom, stroking my face, touching between my legs once more. I moaned softly and he covered my mouth again, muffling any noise I might make.

Was I not to be allowed even the slightest sound? To have to keep silent no matter what he might do to me? The thought of his control made me shiver and I swallowed hard, trying to hold back a sudden rush of desire. I tried to still myself, wondering if he had noticed.

Of course. Of course he had. He noticed everything. I wondered if it would make a difference to what he would do. If it pleased him that I couldn't hide my reactions or if I would be punished for moving, however slightly?

He stepped away from me and I waited for what would come...

Buy Links:

Amazon US
Amazon UK

Author Bios:

Liv Honeywell ~ When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like, reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!). My first story, Imagine, was published with Silver Moon Books last year and Coming, Ready or Not is my first solo book. The Journal was co-written with Domitri Xavier.

Follow Liv's Blog
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Domitri Xavier comes from a rich heritage, including Russia, France and Yorkshire. He is the quintessential English gentleman and lives alone in his cavernous mansion, Upton Abbey. Domitri is not only a writer, composer, pianist, raconteur, wit and poet, he also enjoys a number of hobbies; he breeds Basset Hounds, plays chess (although he has yet to record a victory) and he is a renowned collector of used tea bags – Earl Grey, naturally. He fills his remaining time writing erotic fiction, much of it based on his own lifestyle at the Abbey.

 The Journal is his first book and his poems have been published on Bitten Press’s website.

You can find Domitri on:
Facebook
Blog
Goodreads
Amazon Author Page

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Christmas in July



Evernight Publishing is steaming up the Holiday Season with a special 50% sale on all their Holiday titles. The sale is today and tomorrow (July 24-25) and the discount will be applied when checking out.


If you've not tried Stockings & Suspenders this is a great time to get it at the special sales price.

I have an erotic short story ~ Snow Angel ~ included in this anthology. It's gotten a few 5 stars reviews so I think you might enjoy this one.

Best selling author Minerva Madison might have a big time book deal, but she’s lost her muse. At least until a hunky construction worker comes to her rescue. Brian saves her from spending Christmas Eve stuck on the side of the road in an unexpected snow storm. Their night of uninhibited passion is exactly what she needs to get all her creative juices flowing.


Sunday, July 21, 2013

Suspiciously Obedient


From USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent comes the second book in her "Obedient" trilogy:

AFTER A BILLION PEOPLE WATCH YOU MAKE LOVE, WHERE DO YOU HIDE?

A fake persona with very real emotions...

As "Matt Jones," CEO playboy Michael Bournham has just stumbled into his wildest dream and worst nightmare while playing a middle-management employee role for a reality television stunt. Getting caught making love with his administrative assistant, Lydia Charles, on camera let unscrupulous Hollywood producers blackmail him before launching the video on YouTube. Fired from his job and ridiculed on social media, Mike needs to hit "reboot" on his life. Hiding Lydia away in Iceland with a made-up job, he sends his best friend Jeremy to watch over her. Meanwhile, he disguises himself once more and booked a cabin at Lydia's family's campground in Maine, to immerse himself in her world.

A best friend with deeper intentions... 

After more than a decade of world travel and hedonistic fun, dot-com millionaire Jeremy wants more out of his friendship with Mike, but more than that - he wants Lydia. Struck by her beauty and essence, he follows Mike's order and obeys, courting her with a friendship that quickly becomes a deeper bond, charged by Lydia's fantasies about him - and Mike. Unable to resist, he becomes her confidante and bedmate, helping her to come to grips with her impulsive decisions and to find her way back home to Maine.

A woman torn by desire... 

Lydia accepts the move to Iceland to become the Director of Communications for European Operations not realizing it's a sham position Michael Bournham created to help hide her from the firestorm of the viral sex tape. Living in a new country should be fun, but side glances and whispers from her new Icelandic employees dig at her. Ignored by her new boss at Bournham Industries, Lydia's disenchantment with her bold move is softened only by Jeremy's appearance. Wild and loose, he fills a void in her life - and soon fills her bed.

When she decides there's no place like home, the new couple embarks for her family's campground - and Jeremy's suspicious obedience will be revealed.

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe. She is originally from Ohio.

Julia Kent loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor@gmail.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook. Visit her blog - http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com

Buy Links:

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Smashwords

Thursday, July 18, 2013

On Display by Cassandra Carr


Hunter wants Olivia, and the feeling is mutual. She decides to take her secret attraction public and show up at the club where he’s bouncing, ready to lay everything on the line to snag him. Hunter can’t believe his luck, and soon makes his own move on the woman he’s lusted after for months. Things heat up between them during an exciting—and exhibitionist—evening that leaves them both anticipating more sexy times to come.

An Exotika® contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.


An Excerpt From: ON DISPLAY 
Copyright © CASSANDRA CARR, 2013 
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. 

Shit, where did he go?

“Nice dancing.”

Olivia jumped and a large hand shot out to steady her with a solid grip to her waist. She looked up. Hunter. “You scared me.”

“I see that.” He tilted his head. “You look flushed. You okay?”

“Yeah. I just get hot when I dance.”

“You were hot before that.” A shocked expression flitted over his face before he looked down and coughed. Olivia had to fight a laugh.

Well, at least it’s more evidence he’s interested.

He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest, and she had to suppress the urge to drool. The man was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. Olivia loved his hair. It was thick and wavy and when it was down it hung to his shoulders. His face was angular as if he had some Native American ancestry and his chocolate-brown eyes could be either intense or full of mirth, depending on his mood. She’d spent more than one night with her Hitachi Magic Wand, imagining his full lips skating over her heated skin.

That same skin was definitely warm now. If she’d thought dancing had made her sweat, this was torture. How was a woman expected to just sit there and let hotness like Hunter go unexplored?

“Do you, um,” Hunter gestured toward the back of the club, “want to get some air?” Her eyebrows drew down. There was no exit that way. Clearing his throat and sending her a smile, he continued. “There’s a patio no one uses on a night like tonight when it’s so freaking hot. It was a smoking patio, now Vince uses it for private parties and stuff.” Hunter looked away and then back at her. He was babbling. It was adorable and sexy all at the same time.

“Sure, that sounds good. Can’t be any hotter than it is in here.”

He laughed. Dimples. I’m a dead woman. “Yeah, it’s like an oven, isn’t it? The air-conditioning is no match for all the people.”

She attempted to hop off her barstool without flashing him and realized he’d never let her waist go. His other hand joined in the act and he brought her gracefully to the floor. “Thanks.” He was dangerously close and Olivia hoped like hell she’d have the courage to make it known how much she wanted him. Maybe he’d make it unnecessary.

He placed a hand on her back right above the swell of her ass and guided her through the crowd and toward a dimly lit hallway. As Hunter leaned in, his breath fanned over her ear. Olivia shivered. “We don’t keep the lights on anymore. It discourages people from coming back here now that there’s nowhere for them to go.”

Olivia nodded mutely and Hunter guided her farther into the recesses of the hallway until they came to a door, which he pushed open and held for her.

She took a few seconds to assess her surroundings. “Wow, this is really nice.”

He closed the door behind them. “Yeah, now that the smoke smell is finally getting better and Vince added some crap customers like, it’s not bad.”

Her hand shot up to cover her mouth after a laugh tumbled out. Hunter grinned and those dimples made another appearance. “I’m sorry.”

“About what? Laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at your description of this area. ‘Crap customers like’?”

“You know what I mean.” He gestured to the various potted plants scattered throughout the area and the grill in the corner. “Customers love the trees with the little white lights, no matter how boring and common they are now. And the grill? I don’t remember the last time that was used, except at our employee party about eight months ago.”

“Fair enough.”

He caressed her cheek. “You have no idea how gorgeous you look in the moonlight.”

She shook her head with a chuckle. “That’s quite a line.”

“Not a line. The truth.” Before she could comment further, he’d moved his hand to the back of her neck and brought her face to his. “I need to kiss you.”

“O-okay.”

Their lips met and Olivia moaned. As if that was the sign he was looking for, Hunter snaked his other arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, sliding a thick thigh between her legs as he deepened the kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, and with a sigh, she opened to him. Hunter wasted no time, pushing inside and exploring her depths. Her tongue chased his when he retreated and he groaned.

Even if they went no further she’d have fodder for hundreds of nights of fantasies. Oh, could the man kiss. He put his entire body into it, slowly stoking the fire inside her. Finally they came up for air, both panting.

He leaned back a little more and fixed a heated stare on her. “I’m on break with about twenty minutes left. I need you.”

She couldn’t deny him. Hell, she didn’t want to. “Then take me.”

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Dark Hunter


Happy Release Day to Shannan Albright!

Blurb:

Vampire Mari Ankamunan struggles to pick up the pieces of her life after her bar The Asp becomes a war zone between the Enforcers and members of the Preservation Society, who want all dark breeds wiped out. The sudden appearance of the only man she ever loved brings her world to a crashing halt, for she witnessed his brutal murder two thousand years ago.

Navar’s spoken oaths to his Sire cost him Mari. Torn from her side by the sidhe queen, he is her Hunter, delivering justice for crimes against the breeds. Now freed he returns to his lovers side only to be caught in a dark plot where Mari is targeted for death.

The stakes are high, can they uncover a deadly plot against the Enforcers or will Navar lose Mari, forever by an assassin’s hand?

Buy Links:
Purchase from Evernight for $2.99

Excerpt:

“I will do everything in my power to protect her, even lay down my life if it comes to that.” Navar’s words rang in the still air, spoken as an oath.

“Marcus will be relieved to find out Mari is well protected. I know after the incident with the Preservation Society, he has been concerned for her safety. Someday you must tell me how you secured your release.”

Mari blinked at the two men, feeling left out of the loop in the XY-chromosome chat. Males. Can’t live without them and can’t kill them. Irritation spiked into the red zone, her patience threadbare for the bullshit. Placing her diminutive self between the two towering males, she gave them both a fearless glare and fisted her hands on her hips.

All conversation stopped as they stared down at her with surprise. Good, now she had their attention. “I’ve been alive since the time of Cleopatra. I didn’t survive all those centuries by being a fucking weak female. I can fight, strategize, and I damn well have enough intellect in this ‘girly’ brain to figure out what I need to do to save my own hide, thank you very much. Now, if you don’t mind talking to me, not about me, it would be appreciated and might save your ball sacs from relocating somewhere north on your body. Are we clear, boys?”

Adrian threw his head back and roared a large rolling laugh that reverberated throughout the room. She blinked in surprise. She’d never once seen any enforcer laugh. Sure, they smiled, chuckled, and even smirked, but never laughed. She found it…disconcerting.

“Point taken. You will have your hands full with this little hellion, hunter. I don’t envy you.”

“Little hellion indeed. Yet well worth the extra trouble,” Navar agreed, his pale eyes darkening with hunger.

About the Author:

Growing up Shannan was called the dreamer of the family, something not always thought of as a positive thing. As a child, she would draw and build stories around her pictures, so writing was a natural extension for her. Recently a family member told her that from now on she would encourage those dreamers she knew. Stating “with hard work and focus dreams can come true. Shannan Albright is proof that dreaming can be a positive thing.”

When not writing she spends her time between oil painting and reading. She loves writing paranormal, urban fantasy, historical and fantasy romances because of the world building and rich characters she feels a connection to. She is drawn to dark, edgy heroes and heroines overcoming impossible odds internal and external.

Shannan is a "hopeful" Romantic who believes a healthy relationship built on respect and a strong partnership is the key to a happy ever after.

Shannan's Website
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Sunday, July 14, 2013

Desire In Tartan


Dugald Kilburn was sure that he’d never find love. And why should he?

‘Tis rare for vampires and their mates to reproduce successfully and Dugald kens that. He’s certain his lust caused his first wife’s death in childbed.

Innocent Alice Derwent presents Dugald with a dilemma. She’s different than any woman he’s known, different and altogether alluring. And while the lady is innocent, her feelings are anything but.

Will he bed and wed the lady, risking her life? Or remain celibate, sparing her?

But when threatened with death, Alice decides she doesn’t want to die without knowing Dugald’s love. Can he resist her charms?

Like what you read? Buy it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/desire-in-tartan.html

Excerpt:

Glasgow, Autumn 1759

Dugald left most of his company of men back at the inn with strict instructions to stay out of trouble, but he had no illusions. The men would drink as much as they could hold before finding the loosest bits of muslin available. If they were still able to perform, perform they would, as long and as hard as possible. He hoped that he’d be able to rescue the less experienced of the lot out of whatever scrapes they fell into. The youngest, Malcolm, came with Dugald as his companion. He wouldna leave Malcolm in the care of the rest.

The mop fair was a mad scene. ’Twas combined with a street fair and a farmer’s market, so the entire population of Glasgow had seemingly crowded itself into the square with a market cross in the center. Food stalls, redolent with the spicy aromas of roasting fowls and sausages were fronted by cooks and ’prentices bawling out the prices of their wares. Nearby, penned livestock emitted a less appealing miasma of straw and shite, with the autumn wind swirling the scents along with dry leaves.

Turning to Malcolm, Dugald raised his brows. Without speaking, the two Kilburns started to walk along the disordered rows of booths. Once they’d passed the food stalls, the fair became even more riotous, with knots of maids and men looking for hire, screeching their qualifications. Each brandished a tool of his or her trade, cooks with rolling pins or wooden spoons, coachmen with their whips. Country girls in their Sunday dresses crowded in a knot, peering anxiously at well-dressed passers-by whom Dugald guessed were the stewards of the grand houses. Every once in a while one would stop and question a rosy-cheeked lass, occasionally leaving the fair with a new maid or tweeny in tow.

He stopped, arrested by a sweet fragrance that rose from the reek of unwashed bodies like clean mist drifting on the surface of a loch. He hadn’t detected it before. Mayhap it had been cloaked by the pungent roasting sausages and the other scents at the food stalls—herbs and the like.

He lifted his face into the air and sniffed. Yes, ‘twas there, elusive but definite.

Malcolm did the same. “I smell it too.”

“That’s our lassie,” Dugald said.

The stripling looked mystified. “A sweet smell means a governess?”

“Milady gave me questions to ask.” Dugald patted his sporran. “If she passes, she’s the one. But this is how we’ll be finding her.”

At the end of the row of coachmen, stable hands, maids and cooks fluttered a gaggle of…what? Somberly robed figures resembling a flock of giant crows or, mayhap, vultures. Exuding the stinks of mothballs and body odor, they all appeared to be flapping about one small, drab figure, a female who couldna contrast more with her oafish companions.

Dugald’s first impression of the woman was of narrowness, so at odds with her tempting scent that all he could do was stand and gape at her like a looby. Dressed in unrelieved black, she had slender shoulders and a tiny waist. Slight hips. When she turned, he could see she possessed but a small bosom. He raised his gaze and didn’t bother to stifle a gasp at the sight of her pure and perfect profile. Intelligence sparkled in her hazel eyes, completely belying the rest of her dull demeanor.

Her face… He could stare at that face forever without a single moment of boredom. Pale, though not as white as a Kilburn’s, for a smattering of freckles spattered the bridge of her straight little nose and sprinkled her high cheekbones. She had well-cut lips with a definite Cupid’s bow, the one distinct curve on her serious face. A semi-circular half-moon dip.

He wanted to slide his tongue into that dip before kissing her with every mite of passion he possessed.

About The Author:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at:  www.suzdemello.com
For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com
Befriend her on Facebook
Visit her Facebook Group
She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun
Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

Monday, July 8, 2013

Interview With Liz Newman



It's my pleasure to have Liz Newman here with us today to answer a few questions about her writing.

1) What name do you write under? Liz Newman

2) What Genre do you write? I write historical, fantasy, contemporary, and paranormal fiction with strong romantic elements

3) Tell me about your latest book you’re promoting? The New Orleans Way is a historical romance released by Secret Cravings Publishing in both trade paperback and eBook. The novel is now on sale for a limited time on Amazon in Kindle format for the low price of only .99.

The book is set in the 1890s when New Orleans was on the verge of becoming the wonderful cultural haven that it is today. The manors of the Garden District and the French Quarter were being built and many of them still stand, electricity was first introduced, and the city's cuisine was blossoming with the blend of flavors and influences that have withstood the test of time. This was a time at the end of the influence of the Victorian age, when the many aspects of New Orleans that are its very signature began to burgeon.

Here is a summary of the book:

Everything comes at a price. Love. Security. Even happiness.

On the day of her debutante ball, Rosemarie Kuhn is heralded at "The Next Great Lady of New Orleans." Despite her love for the lowborn private detective Michael Hennessy, she is betrothed by her mother to marry General George C. Boas. Spurned by the general and a false marriage certificate, she guns him down in front of his favorite tavern at St. Anthony Street. With her family's income in jeopardy, her home is turned into a casino for high class patrons funded by the first families who brought The Mafia to the United States. As her love for detective Michael Hennessy grows, she is torn from her desire for him and the promise she made to her dying mother.

4) What is your favorite part of writing? My favorite part about writing is crafting a story that grows out of an idea. I love reading the finished product. The story always grows into something different than it's original genesis. The creative process is a unique journey to follow with every story, and there is always a new journey to be taken when the next book begins.

5) What is one tip you would give a writer just starting out? Write, then rewrite, rewrite, rewrite; no matter how scary it is. A story is like a diamond; it needs to be refined. Your editor at the publishing house will tell you when it's truly done, but until that wonderful moment, it is up to the writer to make the book whatever he or she believes is absolutely perfect.

6) Blog or Website address? www.lizrnewman.net

7) Buy Links -
Amazon USA
Amazon UK
Amazon Canada
Sweet Cravings Publishing


Leave a comment and win some swag! Blog tour participants are eligible to win one of three five dollar Amazon gift cards, a signed eBook of The New Orleans Way in trade paperback, an eBook of The New Orleans Way, bookmarks, pens, and other fun stuff. Winners will be announced on September 15th.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Smashwords Summer Sale


All of my indie titles are up to 50% off in Smashwords Summer Sale. That means you can get Under My Skin and The Lady is a Tramp for only .99 cents. All the books in my Ring Dreams series are on sale for only $1.50 and Wanton, a Ring Dreams Snippet, is absolutely free.

The Courtney Collection is 25% of it's usual price of $3.99. That's Hexed and Vexed (two full length novels), Dirty Weekend (a novella) and Wanton (a short story) all for one great price.

Give It To Your Guide: How To Connect With and Accept Help From Spirit, my non fiction title on connecting with your spirit guide is also sale for $1.50

I hope you'll take advantage of the sale and try one of my titles you haven't read yet.

Visit Jezebel Jorge's Smashword Page