Waiting on Wednesday – December 18

New WoW

“Waiting on Wednesday” is a weekly meme, hosted by Jill from Breaking the Spine , that spotlights book releases that we can’t wait for. This is the one I’m waiting for!

Seventeen-year-old Gwen is settling into her new home in Oregon and looking forward to senior year when she is kidnapped by Kian, who warns her that she is in terrible danger. An ancient war was fought between magical Celtic warriors and three evil magicians. Those magicians are alive and well and need Gwen’s magic to regain their power. If they succeed, they’ll be unstoppable. To save the world, Gwen must unlock the magic trapped in her memories of a past life in Britannia.

As Gwen starts to recover her lost memories and awakens to her power, she suffers the consequences of a divided soul. Gwen and Kian travel to New York and then to England to find others of her kind. Gwen, Garrison, Seth, and Moira need each other to solve the puzzle of their last days in ancient Britannia. They are only as strong as what they remember, but a troublesome history threatens to doom the world. One way or another, a deadly showdown is inevitable, ready or not …


happy reading deb s 2

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Waiting on Wednesday – December 11

New WoW

“Waiting on Wednesday” is a weekly meme, hosted by Jill from Breaking the Spine , that spotlights book releases that we can’t wait for. This is the one I’m waiting for!

Its all slipping away from Roc Molotov — his band, his girlfriend, and worst of all, his ability to play the game demanded by the star-making machinery of the music business. When the best record he’s ever made is about to pass unnoticed, his oldest friend and manager, Uncle Strange, concocts the perfect scheme. Roc will fake his death, on MTV, in front of millions of viewers, assuring massive success on his latest project and the ability to create a body of “posthumous” songs to feed the grieving fans and satisfy his still-active artistic imagination. The plan works to perfection, but the ever-restless Roc finds that being dead has its limitations in this novel that’s sex, death, and rock n’ roll, played in a satirical key.

happy reading deb s 2

Waiting on Wednesday – December 4

New WoW

“Waiting on Wednesday” is a weekly meme, hosted by Jill from Breaking the Spine , that spotlights book releases that we can’t wait for. This is the one I’m waiting for!

1608. Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, the greatest Italian painter of his day, is expelled from the Order of the Knights of Malta. Subject to a clandestine hearing, his crime remains a closely guarded secret.

2014. Two bodies are found in a London art gallery – stripped naked, necks bound with wire and legs obscenely contorted. They are twin brothers – successful art dealers – their brutal murder linked to the mysterious disappearance of two paintings by the master Caravaggio.

Investigators are confounded, and it falls to art expert Gil Eckhart to identify the killer before he slays again. But as the search for clues takes him from the glamorous skyline of New York to the fetid catacombs of Palermo, Eckhart finds that in the high-stakes world of art, good and evil are often tarred with the same, blood-soaked, brush.

happy reading deb s 2

Book Highlight: Drowning by Rachel Firasek

Title: Drowning

Author: Rachel Firasek

Series: Tears of Sin (#1)

Pages: 263

Published: October 26th, 2013 by Naedge Publishing

*Drowning is a New Adult Contemporary Romance suited for 18+ due to some violence, language, and sexual content* 

“I dare you.”

Those words would change adrenaline junkie, Alice Harrison’s life forever. She’s a party girl that doesn’t believe in love until she meets a man that only writes about it.

Seth James escaped his overbearing father and moved into one of the James family’s vacant condos, hoping to create the music he loves in peace. But the fragile calm he’s envisioned shatters when a tiny woman with a world full of energy bounces out of the elevator and nearly takes him out.

With the patience of a saint, Seth seeks the dark that keeps Alice from enjoying life. He challenges her to exorcise the demons in her past in order to discover the true meaning of love. But when the walls fall down, the hidden deceptions will bare the ugly truth about a woman drowning in sorrow and a man who may not know how to be her hero.

In the hall, arms laden with musical equipment, four large and totally hot guys fill the space—Seth James leading the pack. He stops, drops the cymbal dangling from an index finger, and stares. His too bright gaze travels down my scantily, and very sweaty, clad body and back up. When our eyes meet, he grins. “Come to help?”

“No.” I have no idea what makes me do it, but I snatch his cymbal off the floor and carry it into his apartment. I’m asking for trouble, but can’t seem to stop myself. They follow me inside, jaws still slack. Okay, so I’m cute, but not worthy of jaws dropping. I plop it down on his couch and rush back to the door. Taking on Seth doesn’t scare me, but a crew of hotties is a little much.

His strong fingers wrap around my shoulder before I make it through the walkway. It’s not controlling or holding me back. His hand is simply resting on me. “Hey, thanks. I’m sorry if we…uh…interrupted your day.”

His words sound sincere and slightly slurred, and I can’t find it in my heart to be bitchy to the first guy in a long time that has only shown me kindness. I sigh and pivot to face him. “It’s not me I’m worried about. My sister is asleep.”

He glances at his watch and frowns.

“She’s recovering from an accident. So, if you don’t mind, keep it down in the halls.”

He leans forward. “Will do and I’m sorry.”

When he enters my personal space, my heart speeds up. His eyes stare into mine. I feel this incredible connection, like he knows my pain. Like he can see my guilt.

The distance between us seems to be shrinking, and I’m not sure if it’s me shuffling closer or him.

He snags the zipper on my jacket and runs it up and down. “Is she going to be okay?”

I pluck at a button on his shirt and glance up. “Eventually.”

His friends form a half-moon circle around him and gape at me. I flick a glance at each of them. They all have a very different style of dress, which only raises more questions about the man in front of me. “Am I the first girl they’ve ever seen?”

Blondie, with the coal lined eyes, on the left snickers. “In Seth’s apartment? Hell, yes.”

Seth elbows him, but grins.

The tall guy in a kind of hot-nerd ensemble leans over and shakes my hand. “Deacon. Would you like a beer?”

I eye the leering men again. “It looks like you started without me, and I’m not into gang-bangs.” I disengage the overlong hand play with the nerd and back away from the group. “G., I’ll catch you later.”

“Hey, wait. I’ll walk you back over.”

The hotties chuckle, high-five, and rib Seth as we walk toward the hall. He shuts the door to their gazes and catches my hand before I can cross back to my apartment. “Hey, are you going to tell me your name?”

“Nah, this is more fun.”

“Why?”

“I think you’re used to having your way.”

He smiles. “Maybe.” He leans against his door and crosses his arms. His smile slips into a smug grin I’d seen on so many rich boys in this city. He thinks he has me. “I’d like to have my way with you.”

He’s quite the talker when he’s sauced. Good to know. It’s nice to see his thoughts. “That’s the beer talking.” I step close, arch up on tip-toe, and tap a finger to his slightly parted lips. “A few hours ago, you didn’t have much to say. I’m okay with keeping this awkward tension between us. It’s all we’ll ever have.”

He scowls at that and twists the knob back to his apartment. “Whatever.”

Mission accomplished. I’d succeeded in pissing him off. If he stayed mad at me, then we could squash this weird attraction that we obviously both feel.

I grin. “Bye, G.”

His brows dip low, and I shove the door behind me, sagging against it. My breath swooshes out from between my clenched teeth. Damn, he is going to be trouble. I feel it all the way to my pinky toe.

A soft knock against my back drives home the point. I twirl and open the door before he disturbs Molly—or maybe because I’m not ready to share him with her yet. “What?”

He tucks a hand into the waistband of my shorts and hauls me into the hall, pulling my door shut behind me. “Where did you get that?” His gaze lingers on the small bump decorating my forehead.

I reach up and touch the sore knot. “Oh, I fell.”

“How?” He raises his free hand and traces the swelling.

I don’t even feel the careful prodding. No, my concentration is solely focused on the fingers tucked inside my shorts and only inches away from becoming way too familiar with me. “Um…I was doing yoga when you guys came down the hall.”

“And?” He tugs me closer. His thumb rakes a small path below my belly button.

Oh my. “Uh…I fell out of…of…my pose and banged my head on the floor.”

His eyes darken and those beautiful lips part. I want to snake my tongue across the bottom one to find out if it is as soft as it looks.

He winces and lowers his eyes to mine. “So this is my fault?”

I grab onto his wandering hand and pull it free of my shorts. If I didn’t, I’d be asking him for a wall orgasm in less than two minutes and random teasing and fleeing was a no go for me now. “No. It was an accident. Lighten up, G.”

“I don’t want to cause you pain.”

Wow, that feels like a loaded proclamation. “Okay. Well, keep the noise down, and we should be good.”

He drops the hand that had been rubbing away my bruise. Funny, I’d totally forgotten it. “I don’t want to cause you pain. It’s a personal thing.” A deep shudder races over him, and for some reason, I don’t think he is with me anymore.

“You didn’t. I’m fine.” I lift a hand and cup the side of his face, bringing his gaze to mine. It is the gentlest moment I’ve ever had with a man, and we’ve just met. “I’m not sure what this is, but I think I should go inside.”

He glances down the corridor, takes a deep breath, and nods. “Yes, you should.”

“Go play with your friends. Be men or whatever that means, and I’ll go back to my yoga.” I was going to need it after this.

He groans and drops his head back, his hint of an Adam’s Apple bobbing down the column of his neck, begging for my tongue to taste him there. “Did you have to bring that back to mind?”

I grin. “What? Me all hot and sweaty in contorted positions? Do you like that?”

He groans, and one side of his mouth slants up. “I have things to do and don’t need no-named neighbors distracting me.”

Rachel Firasek spends her days daydreaming of stories and her nights putting the ideas to ink. She has spent a dull life following the rules, meeting deadlines, and toeing the line, but in her made up worlds, she can let the wild side loose. Her wonderful husband and three children support her love of the written word and only ask for the occasional American Idol or Swamp People quality hour.

She has a philosophy about love. It must devastate or it isn’t truly worth loving. She hopes that you all find your devastating love and cling to it with all your heart!

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