Book Highlight: Priya in Heels by Ayesha Patel

Title: Priya in Heels

Author: Ayesha Patel

Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance, Multi-cultural

Publication: August 28th, 2014

A new adult title from Entangled’s Embrace imprint…

Love doesn’t conquer all…does it?

Priyanka Patel is the epitome of an obedient daughter. She’s finishing up her medical residency at one of Houston’s busiest emergency departments, and has agreed—albeit reluctantly—to marry the man her family has chosen for her. The only thing that can derail the “perfect” life laid out before her is the sexy musician down the hall who wants into her life…and into her bed.

Tyler O’Connor has been infatuated with Priya since she treated his sprained ankle in the ER, and after saving her from a brutal attack, he can’t get her out of his head. When Priya puts her family’s wishes before their relationship, agreeing to an arranged marriage with another man, Tyler is devastated.

But love is fierce and unreasonable and clashes with the carefully sculpted life her parents want for her. Is going after her heart such a big deal, or will it truly unravel Priya’s world?

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“Priya in Heels is an exquisite mix of culture, romance, and humor all brought together by two characters you can’t help but love from the get-go. It’s a must read!” ~NYT Bestselling Author Anna Banks
 
“Sweet and sexy with a dash of spice.” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Nicola Marsh
 
“Chemistry jumps off the pages in this sexy-fun tale of family, “firsts,” and doing anything for true love. I swooned over Ty right along with Pree!” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Ophelia London
 
A moving story about a girl at a crossroads between her Indian culture and what’s expected of her, and the American boy who’s stolen her heart.” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Cindi Madsen

“A thoroughly entertaining romance that deftly captures the enduring conflict between conservative Indian traditions and contemporary American culture.” ~Shobhan Bantwal, Award-Winning Author of the Dowry Brid
Chapter One
Priya
Women who wore heels all day belonged in a mental institution for heinous self harm. Residency taught us to always look professional, and I envied the female docs who rocked nice shoes every day, but I drew the line with heels. Hello, plantar fasciitis, anyone?
Even in sneakers, pain bubbled around my ankles and prickled up my calves. One month of fifteen-hour days in one of Houston’s busiest emergency departments had turned my ankles into dainty twigs ready to snap in half.
I tried not to wobble to room twenty-three, and the wheelchair in the corner called my name. Maybe the ED tech could wheel me to the next patient?
The nurses giggled as I hobbled past station two.
“Oh, honey, try doing this for a living,” Mara said.
“You’ll get used to it,” David encouraged.
Right.
I skimmed over the file I’d been using to fan myself with. It belonged to a man who lived in epic STDville. Eww. Thank goodness his numerous venereal diseases couldn’t attach to his folder and fly off onto my mouth.
“Oh, wait, this one.” Dr. Lemur snatched that folder from me and replaced it with a thinner one.
This man thought he had a broken ankle. Much better! On my last day in ED rotation, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with another nasty sexaholic. I had already had one last week, and the guy had persistently hit on me. He had been lucky that he’d walked out with his genitals intact.
More times than not, the reality of a person’s illness paled in comparison to what they thought they had. This broken ankle was more likely a sprained one, and that was an easy fix.
Still attached to my notes, I opened and closed the glass door to room twenty-three, then closed the curtain behind me before looking up. What a mistake! I almost stumbled over my aching feet. Okay, I had to close my mouth now before the patient slapped a piece of tape across my forehead that read, “Idiotic Buffoon.”
The patient straightened and gave me a lazy smile. Yeah, he knew he had the looks. Shimmering green eyes like emeralds. Auburn hair, a little wavy, wisped across his forehead, curled over his ears, and flirted with his shirt collar. Kissable lips curved upward, set above a firm, square jaw. He almost had me stuttering like a boy-crazy teenager, the way his intense eyes held my attention.
Icy air puffed down from the ceiling vent and tickled the back of my neck, jolting me back to my senses. It was one of those weird moments when time stopped and all of a sudden you couldn’t remember what you were doing or how long you’d been mentally gone. It was a moment that made me think, Damn!
“Tyler O’Connor?” I managed to say, playing off my unprofessional reaction to the stunningly handsome man and quelling any interest.
“Yep,” he replied in a thick, low voice. Either too dreamy to be real or sleepy from pain medicine.
“Think you sprained your ankle or broke it?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, let’s take a look.” I snapped on a pair of white gloves from the triage cart, pulled up a rolling stool, and sat down. All the while, I surreptitiously noticed that Tyler was focused on my face, so meeting his eyes again was impossible.
With shoe off, sock on, Tyler rested the injured foot on a chair. The butcher paper crinkled underneath him as he shifted on the gurney while I lifted his foot onto my lap. At six-foot-one and a muscular two hundred pounds, according to his chart, his leg felt like dead weight.
I pulled down his sock to check for bruising and wounds, then pressed and felt for swelling. He hissed.
“Hurts?”
“Yep,” he responded in his amazing verbal repertoire.
“What were you doing when you injured yourself?”
“Walked off stage and buckled on a step.”
The image of this tall, brawny man stumbling down a few steps tickled me. I stifled a giggle. When I looked up, he rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned in, his face way too close for comfort.
“Oh, sorry.” Apparently, the giggle had escaped.
He flashed an insanely swoon-worthy smile. “Do I need an X-ray?”
“Only if you want to spend a bunch of time in our lovely hospital.”
“Do I get a meal and you at my bedside?”
I responded dryly to subdue his flirting, “You get a hit of high-energy electrons and an hour of sitting alone.”
“It’s not even broken, is it?”
“No.” I couldn’t help myself. I thumped his ankle. He jerked forward. “A broken ankle would hurt much worse.” I returned his foot to the chair and rolled away.
“Yeah, I figured. Bar owner demanded I get it checked.”
“Guess he thought you’d sue?”
He shrugged and I wrote a few notes as he craned his neck to look over the folder’s edge. “Thought you guys had electronic notes.”
“We do. This is for my personal notes to take to clinic. I’m a resident, so…” I responded as if that explained anything because, of course, everyone knew residents made their own notes to study and report back to their attending doctors.
“Cool.”
“Are you in pain? I can prescribe something.” This tactic tended to flush out drug abusers, those who went straight to narcotics.
“Nah. Rest, ice, compress, elevate. Right?”
“You got it.”
“Guess I wasted two hours and a hundred bucks for nothing. I should make the bar owner pay.”
“Look on the bright side, Mr. O’Connor, at least you have good insurance.”
“Better than that, I have a good doctor. Are you working late?”
“No. You’re my last patient.”
“Are you doing anything after work?”
I peered up and tried very hard to hide an impending grin. My lips quivered in the futile effort, and the boy-crazy teenager inside of me giggled with excitement. “I’m not allowed to date patients, Mr. O’Connor.”
“Ah. Well, in half an hour I won’t be your patient, right?”
“You know what I mean. We would have had to meet a different way.”
“Well, how about you come by The Harmon’s where my band’s playing? We could meet there.”
“The bar? Your bar? Where you tripped?” An image of him falling crossed my thoughts.
“You think it’s funny?”
I frowned. “Sorry. Of course it’s not funny, Mr. O’Connor.”
He chuckled. “Anyway, check us out. We’ll be going back on at eleven.”
Standing, I handed him a piece of paper to end the conversation before it traveled down personal roads. “Here’s a prescription for pain medicine, in case you need it. Eight hundred milligrams of Tylenol.”
“I could just inhale four over-the-counter Tylenol, right?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m sorry. I failed to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Patel.”
“And your first name?”
“Irrelevant.”
He lowered his eyes to my chest and slowly dragged them back up. “Pry-anne-kah?”
I flipped the name badge and slapped it against my chest. “Observant, aren’t you?” I said curtly, hating that the residents had both first and last names on our badges.
“Did I pronounce it wrong?” He grinned again.
“Yes. It’s pronounced Pree-ahn-ka. Priyanka.”
“That’s kinda hard. Think I’ll call you Pree.”
“You can call me Dr. Patel.” I gritted my teeth.
“Is that offensive?”
“Houston only has a million Indians, and a million other ethnic people. You should try harder to properly pronounce names instead of being lazy and assigning unwanted and unwarranted nicknames.”
“Ouch!”
I shook my head and forced a smile. “Don’t overdo it tonight. Have a good one, and take care of that ankle.”
“Bye, Dr. Patel,” he said in a somewhat amused tone.
There were many things I couldn’t tolerate, including people who judged, those who expected doctors and nurses to be at their beck and call, and people who thought they couldn’t pronounce a three-syllable name. “Priyanka” wasn’t that difficult, especially in comparison to some names. Snapping at a cocky patient wasn’t acceptable, but Tyler would walk out of here unscathed by my anger. Mostly.
Like the rest of the patients who wandered in and out of the ED, Mr. Tyler O’Connor faded from memory soon enough. Despite his remarkable good looks, perhaps the hottest Irishman ever, only patients with interesting reasons to visit stayed with me. Like the STD guy, and the woman who had lacerated her vulva because she had decided to crawl over a bathroom partition to get out of her locked stall…as opposed to crawling under on a dirty floor in her pretty dress. The partition had broken beneath her weight, and well, the rest had been a painful, tear-filled adventure. I tingled with sympathy for her.
My shift officially ended, and hell month in ED would soon be a haunting memory. Another hour of electronic charting and handwritten notes for myself and I was ready to skip right on out. Well, I would’ve stayed if a car accident came in, a stroke victim, or the always emotional pediatric case—for the experience—but nothing of the sort happened.
I changed out of my hospital-assigned blue scrubs and into jeans and a snug, black top. I slipped on my favorite plaid pink and purple backpack because, of course, I intended to bring plaid back, and hurried out to my car just as my cell rang.
“Hey, Vicki. What’s going on?”
“Are you coming to dinner, or what?” my roommate asked in a high-pitched voice above the clamor of what sounded like a party in the background.
“I’m just leaving work. Where are you?”
“The Harmon’s.”
“Oh, uh, sure.”
“We just got here, waiting for a table. We should be seated by the time you get here, but you can still grab some food from the bar menu.”
The thought of running into a patient outside of work, particularly to a place he had invited me to, caused me to hesitate. “It’s late.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Not all day, right? Get some food, hang with us, come out once in a while!”
“Ugh, sure. Be there in twenty minutes.”
Though I dreaded being seen by Tyler O’Connor, because he would assume I went there for him, The Harmon’s Brewery & Restaurant had the best food, a rocking vibe, and was centrally located for my friends. We ate there at least once a month. The only problem with the place was its downtown location, which meant a ton of one-way streets, horrible parking, outrageous parking fees, and weekend crowds half drunk and wholly pushy. But I was starved because I hadn’t had time for lunch or dinner again, and the fridge at the apartment was a little sad.
Vicki cooked more than I did. She had a nine-to-five job, Monday through Friday, and loved the Food Network. But she never cooked on Fridays, which were knighted “leftover day.” She never cooked on Saturdays, either, because it was girls’ night out. Sometimes I believed Vicki didn’t cook on those days to dwindle down our food supply so I had no choice but to meet her someplace if I wanted to eat.
It worked.

Ayesha Patel was born in the rich and colorful state of Gujarat in western India before moving to Texas. She quickly found her footing in languages and creative writing and weaves her diverse background into her stories. She currently lives in the beautiful, though rainy, state of Washington with her husband. With a splendid view of Mt. Ranier behind her, a cup of coffee in her hand, and a ridiculously fast laptop at her fingertips, Ayesha is thrilled to explore the literary world.

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“Sweet and sexy with a dash of spice.” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Nicola Marsh
 
“Chemistry jumps off the pages in this sexy-fun tale of family, “firsts,” and doing anything for true love. I swooned over Ty right along with Pree!” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Ophelia London
 
A moving story about a girl at a crossroads between her Indian culture and what’s expected of her, and the American boy who’s stolen her heart.” ~USA Today Bestselling Author Cindi Madsen

“A thoroughly entertaining romance that deftly captures the enduring conflict between conservative Indian traditions and contemporary American culture.” ~Shobhan Bantwal, Award-Winning Author of the Dowry Brid

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Book Highlight: The White Door by Christy Sloat

Title: The White Door

Author: Christy Sloat

Genre: Young Adult

Series: The Visitors Series, Book 3

Publication: March 3rd, 2014

“When I first moved here I was still a girl who cherished the normality of teen life. Now, after being here a year I had come to love a boy who was both strong and courageous. I made real friendships that would last even after death. The selfish girl my grandmother warned me of becoming had vanished. A girl who stood tall, with the powers to see the dead and help those in need, appeared in her place.”

In Brylee’s world, nothing is normal. She sees and speaks with the dead and, at seventeen years old, she already has a full plate. She’s in her senior year of high school and college is just around the corner, but only if she learns to control her gifts and survive in the land of the living.

She has succeeded in ridding her boyfriend, Ephraim, from the Brown family curse, but, in the end, her best friend loses her life. Now a whole slew of new problems present itself and, like always, Brylee is tempted to run for the hills. With Ephraim at her side, she must come to grips with the reality that she is not an average girl and she never will be.

What will happen when the town turns on her? Or, better yet, when a body is unearthed in her backyard? The choices that Brylee must make will determine whether she has a future or nothing at all.

Buy on Amazon 
     I raised my hand to excuse myself to the bathroom and Miss Hailey obliged. I sped walked to the girl’s room as Kayla skipped behind me. I pushed open a stall and threw my hands up in the air. “What the heck Kayla? Here, at school?”
     She laughed.
     “Seriously? I know something’s up, but why not wait until after school?”
     She leaned against the stall and sighed. “I told you things are weird with me lately. I don’t know what’s happening but I can feel a change coming. I… I…” Her mad rush to speak was suddenly interrupted by a choking sound coming from her mouth.
     “Kayla!” I rushed to her and my hands went through her body. She wasn’t solid like normal. Something was wrong! Kayla had always felt like flesh and blood to me. Never like a ghost.
     Suddenly her mouth opened and water poured out onto my feet, splashing my shoes and legs. I still tried but failed to help her. She was choking on water and, if I wasn’t mistaken, she was drowning. I was helpless and didn’t know what to do. Then before I could come up with an answer she uttered one word, “Diary.”

Christy Sloat is a SoCal born girl who resides in New Jersey currently with her husband, two daughters and Sophie her Chihuahua. Christy has embraced the love of reading and writing since her youth and was inspired by her grandmother’s loving support. Christy passes that love of reading, writing, and creativity to her daughters, family, and friends. When you do not find Christy within the pages of a book you can find her being mommy, wife, crafter, and dear friend. She loves adventurous journeys with her friends and can be known to get lost inside a bookstore. Be sure to venture into her Past Lives Series, The Visitor’s Series, and watch for many more exciting things to come.

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Sneak Peek: This Time Around by Ellie Grace

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Title: This Time Around
Author: Ellie Grace
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Age Group: New Adult
Expected release date: July 15, 2013

Nora Montgomery left home and heartbreak behind in South Carolina when she moved to New York City after her high school graduation. Now, four years later, she returns home and is forced to confront the past she left behind and the reckless boy who broke her heart. It’s not long before the pieces of her past begin to blur with the present and she realizes that the feelings she had for her first love never really went away. As old dreams resurface and new truths come to light, she begins to question the future she’s always planned on.

Jake Harris has spent four years regretting the night he let her get away. When she finally reappears in his life, he is determined to win her back and prove how much he’s changed. She might never forgive him for that night, but if he tells her the truth about what really happened it will shatter the world she thought she knew. If he doesn’t, he might not get a second chance. He’s already lost her once and he won’t lose her again.

They come from two different worlds that are threatening to tear them apart…can they make it this time around?

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Nora hopped into the back and started handing me the heavy boxes so I could bring it all into the house. When it was all unloaded she stood on the tailgate and held out her hand so I could help her to the ground. Instead of grabbing her hand, I wrapped my arms around her thighs to lift her, letting her body slide down mine until her feet touched the ground. I kept my hands on her hips and looked her right in the eye so she would know exactly what was coming.

“Jake – don’t,” she stammered, but didn’t pull away.

“I have to,” I told her, as I leaned forward and gently placed my lips on hers. I held them there for just a moment before pulling back to look at her, and my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest.

“I – I can’t do this, Jake.”

“Then don’t kiss me back.”

I leaned in to kiss her again and tightened my arms around her. Cautiously I moved my lips against hers and brought my hand up to touch her face. I heard her moan softly against my lips and it was all the encouragement I needed. I pressed up against her and when I felt her lips part for me, I let my tongue find hers and tilted her head as I deepened the kiss. As my lips began moving more intensely, she wrapped her arms around my neck and crushed her body against mine.

The need I felt for her turned me completely inside out. I hadn’t planned on kissing her today, but when I looked up at her standing on the tailgate, illuminated from the light of the setting sun, I knew I couldn’t wait. I had to know what it was that I was feeling, and if it was something real or if it was just remnants of the past clouding the present. Still, I wasn’t expecting this. Instead of curbing my appetite for her, it only intensified it. I’d never needed anything as much as I needed Nora.

When I finally pulled away, I brushed my thumb against her cheek and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “God, I missed you, Nora.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said breathlessly, “I still have to go back to New York.”

“We’ll see,” I said simply.

About the Author

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Ellie Grace is an avid reader, chocolate lover and caffeine addict. When a story popped into her head that she couldn’t seem to shake, she decided to pursue her childhood dream of becoming a writer. When she’s not writing, she’s usually curled up with a book by one of her many, many favorite authors.

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Promo Post: Silence of Wolves by Hannah Pole

Silence of the Wolves – Release Day PROMO
By Hannah Pole
Urban Fantasy
Date Published: 6/26/2013
 
Fate is calling…
After a strange encounter in a dark alley, journalist Tamriel’s life is turned upside down. She’s missing days, developing odd new abilities, and being followed by mysterious Leyth.
Leyth’s determined to teach Tamriel about her new life – as a werewolf! 

And just as intent on keeping their relationship strictly business.bond grows, Tamriel and Leyth face a bigger challenge; Tam may be their kind’s strongest weapon against the Circle, a deadly group of paranormal creatures gone rogue. That is, if she’s ready to give into her destiny and put up the fight of her life…


Dark, dangerous – and too gorgeous for his own good –But as their simmering
EXCERPT
 
Slowly, carefully, Tam moved. Only an inch as she lowered herself to the ground and, in one painstaking movement, she knelt before the wolf.
Her knife was clipped to the side of her bra and her hands itched to reach for it, but she knew it was a bad idea. Currently the wolf was showing no signs of aggression and she didn’t want to spook him again.
As she looked into those beautiful grey eyes, she saw no anger, no malice. She saw fatigue, pain and confusion. She could read the emotions behind them like a book.
 
As she watched him, it seemed as though he was being as careful as she to move carefully. It was almost as if it were he who didn’t want to spook her rather than the other way around. He lowered his back end to the ground, shuffling a little awkwardly around his back leg. He then proceeded to lie down completely, resting his head on his paws, keeping his eyes still locked onto hers. It was as if he’d visibly given up.
 
 Tam slowly edged forward. She must be absolutely crazy, knowing this was a vicious wild animal and that it could tear her apart easily. Yet her gut told her the wolf wasn’t going to hurt her.
 
She must be going mad. She was going to end up being that weird woman that was nearly killed by a wild wolf because she thought she could be friends with it.
 
And yet, this moment, this intense, terrifying, incredibly special moment, was one she would treasure for the rest of her life; one she would write about and talk of over and over again to friends, family and, maybe, one day her children.
 
The day mommy made friends with a wolf.
Hannah Pole
I am a born and bred wild child. (Or I like to think so anyway!)
I moved to sunny Folkestone UK to escape and find my feet as, well whatever I was destined to be! But alas, my short attention span made finding that destiny a little difficult! One day I came across a diary entry that made me laugh so hard; I actually fell off my chair. (Yes, this can happen!)
I decided that the entry was so funny; it needed to be shared with the world! So I started writing, and attempted to turn it into a novel. Though to this day, that novel remains unfinished, it will always be the novel that got me started, and showed me what I was passionate about.
 
Honestly? I have aspired to be everything from a Private Investigator to a Zoo Keeper with my career; my interests change so quickly that I could never stick with one! Writing gives me the freedom to choose; I can be a cold-hearted assassin in love with a poet one day and the secret lesbian lover of a politician the next!
 
All my life, I have had a strong, unwavering passion for anything supernatural, spiritual and slightly unexplainable, I love the idea that there can be something completely fantastical lurking beneath the confines of normality. So of course, mythical creatures of all shapes and sizes dominate most of my work!
 
In a nutshell, I am a creative crazy bean, living with my lovely husband and a house full of too many animals! I’ve always secretly wished I were a werewolf of some description, but have come to realise that I will have to settle for writing about them instead! I’m happiest in the sun with my head in a good book!
 
All I can say from here is I hope youth like what you read!
Author Links
public email –    hp@hannahpole.co.uk
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Book Teaser: Beautifully Twisted by Jennifer Domenico

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“Don’t back away from me, Alexa. No more of that.”

Her breathing quickens. She wants to run, but there is nowhere to go. Once again, Scott Patrick has her backed against a corner.

“Scott…”

“Let me talk first.” He moves in close; so close his body presses up against her. She closes her eyes, absorbing his scent and his closeness. He always smelled like money and sex. It was the best smell on the planet to her.

Scott reaches out and strokes her cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. Come on.” She does and locks her green eyes with his black ones. “You’re gorgeous, you know that, Alexa?”

“Scott, let me go.”

“I can’t, baby girl. Can’t you see that? Why do you think I came with Brett out here to meet you? It gave me a reason to see you again.”

“You came because you couldn’t stand for Brett to be alone with me.”

Scott narrows his eyes slightly. “Maybe.” He brushes his lips against her cheek, causing Alexa to inhale sharply in response. “Let me take you out tonight.”

She knows she should say no, but she also knows she can’t. The last time she declined his invite didn’t go so well. She has no ability to turn away from Scott Patrick and they both know it. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

“No, thank you,” she says with a professional tone.

“Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Too busy for an old friend?”

“We are not friends,” she says, her voice full of tension.

“What are we then, baby girl?”

She sighs and stares into his eyes. As dark as they are, they still seem to dance and play in the little bit of sunlight that streams in her window.

“Please?” he asks sweetly, which Alexa knows is total bullshit.

Scott always wore her down and she had to admit that even after how he acted the last time he was in London, she still very much wanted to be around him. She sighs again and nods her head, unable to utter the words.

“Yeah? You’ll see me tonight?”

“You win.”

“Not yet, but maybe later.” His hand slides up her thigh, stopping just under the hem of her skirt. “I dream about you, baby girl. I remember how soft your skin is, how luscious your tits are. I can’t wait to climb in between those legs of yours again.”

Alexa’s body flushes with heat. “I didn’t say you could do that. I said I would see you; that’s all. You can explain to me why you were such a bastard the last time I saw you.”

He grins and his fingers inch up higher, softly stroking the material of her lacy panties. “Alexa…” His lips drag against her neck. “I need you, you know that. Don’t say no to me.”

Her eyes shoot towards the door, afraid someone will walk in. “Please, Scott, not now.” Not again. “We can talk about this later.”

“We’ll talk about it now,” he says, his voice suddenly demanding. “I’ll stop when you tell me you’re still mine.”

Where to buy: Amazon.com | Barnes & Noble

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Book Blitz & Giveaway: Snow White Sorrow by Cameron Jace

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Title: Snow White Sorrow
 Author: Cameron Jace
Series: The Grimm Diaries #1
Publication: May 30th 2013
Genre: YA Paranormal/Fairy Tale
Synopsis:
What if all you knew about fairy tales was wrong? Sixteen year old Loki Blackstar is no Prince Charming. His mother is a ghost. His only friend is a red Cadillac that talks to him through the radio. He looks like an Angel but acts like jerk. No wonder he has been banned from Heaven, which is the least of his troubles. Loki needs a job to pay for school and support himself. Still, Loki has a rare gift: He is a Dreamhunter. One of the few in the world who can hunt and kill immortal demons in their dreams so they never wake up again. When Loki is sent to kill a sixteen-year-old vampire girl the locals call Snow White Sorrow, he is pulled into a magical but dangerous world. The locals believe the monster to be Snow White.The real Snow White… living in the ruins of an ancient castle in a small town. She is described as horribly beautiful, terrifyingly enchanting, and wickedly lovely.What he finds instead is a beautiful monster girl filled with rage and hurt, who has an epic untold story to tell of things such like why the Brothers Grimm altered the fairy tale, who the Evil Queen really is, where the mirror came from, and who possessed it. Snow White has killed every person who has dared come near the castle where she once lived with the queen. Mysteriously, she lets Loki live, and whispers two words in his ears; two words that will change his life forever.
Purchase Links: Amazon.com | Smashwords

excerpt

Excerpt from Snow White Blood Red

Dear Wilhelm Carl Grimm,

She is not that giddy, naïve, and helpless princess she pretends to be. Please don’t let her fool you with her innocence if you see her sing to the birds in the forest. Resist her charm from bringing joyful tears to your eyes, and shield yourself from her devious beauty before she deceives you into wanting to kiss her awake. It’ll be a kiss of death. Your death. That’s how she fooled the Huntsman, Prince Charming, and me, her birth mother.
I still remember the original script of the fairy tale, the one you wrote in 1812. It clearly stated that she was my own flesh and blood daughter. I don’t have the slightest idea why you altered it fifty years later.
What was the point of turning me into an evil, narcissistic, and heartless stepmother, blinded by jealousy and envy of the young princess?
For years, I have been looking forward to telling you the truth about her, but you were impossible to reach.
I am glad I found your brother, Jacob. He told me that you wanted to tone the stories down so children could sleep better at night, instead of having nightmares about the Queen who sought to eat her daughter’s heart and liver.
Shame on you, Wilhelm.
You, of all authors, knew why I wanted to kill her. My actions were justified. I was trying to save my kingdom from her wrath, before everything we loved was destined to an end. The same way you had to rewrite the true fairytales after cursing us, so the War of Sorrows would end forever after.
Night after night, and year after year, parents fed their children false bedtime stories, until your lies grew into inescapable memories. Your happily ever after lies, Wilhelm, shaped the so called fairy tale world.
I wondered why you didn’t burn the original scripts, instead of rewriting them. You must have figured out that sooner or later someone would dig up the truth and expose you. Altering it was the smarter solution. You let children believe that the bites were resurrecting kisses, and that torturing glass coffins were made for sleeping beauties, waiting for a prince to come and kiss them awake.
A wise man once said that the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he was someone else. You did the same with us, Wilhelm. You turned us into pastiches of the immortals that we really are, and made it harder for us if wanted to persuade the world otherwise.
I know that you did it to save us from her. And I appreciate how you concealed our real names, or we would have ended up like Rumpelstiltskin, tortured by those who knew of his real name.
But sometimes, I can’t help but wonder why no one ever questioned why I was called the Evil Queen, and why I was never given a real name in the books.
Was I so superficial to the world, so stereotypical and mundane? Why was I treated as if I were the monster of the week?
You know what I think? I think that the world never got the time to hate me. It just wanted to hate me long before it met me.
If I tell those who detest me about the true nature of their little princess, would they ever care about me half as much as they care about her?
I know that deep inside, they adore me. They like the way I talk, walk, dress, and even the way I kill.
They are just afraid to admit how much they love me. I am the Snow White Queen, strong enough that I don’t need anyone’s pity or love, because I am loved by the greatest and most majestic heart in the world:
Mine.

About_Author_001

CameronWonderlander, Neverlander, Unicorn-chaser, enchanter, musician, survived a coma, & totally awesome. Sometimes I tell stories. Always luv the little monsters I write young adult paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and science fiction mostly. The Grimm Diaries series is a seven book saga that deals with retellings of fairy tales from a young adult POV – it connects most of the fairy tales together and claims to be the truth about fairy tales. I live in San Fransisco and seriously think circles are way cooler than triangles.

Author Links: Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter 

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Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: One Ghost By Loni Lyne

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BLURB:

Stuck in ghostly limbo for 238 years, James Addison can’t move on to an afterlife.  After being falsely accused of treason and executed, fate’s cursed him to remain an earth-bound specter until he meets a historian sent to research his past.

Distrustful of fate, Dr. April Branford wants to be taken seriously, but her unique ability to divine history by touching objects seriously compromises her credibility. Her latest assignment?  James Addison, a legendary colonial ladies’ man with a shadowy past.  Without much to go on, she doesn’t hold out much hope to discover the man behind the legend until the day she accidentally touches him and brings him back to life.

With the help of family and ghosts from James’s past, they unravel the truth. But after falling in love and with time running out, it’s hard for April to believe in fate and a future where forever is now.

Excerpt:

April’s digital camera came to life and she switched the setting to playback, scrolling through the photos. She’d taken a bevy of pictures, ones of the hanging tree, the colonial storefronts and historical houses, the front and back of the courthouse. She came across the last picture, the one she’d taken right outside, and then it went back to her older photos. Everything was there but the picture of her guide. She gasped and thumbed frantically through the pictures again.

“What’s wrong, April dear?” Her aunt got up from the chair and came over to her, bringing her cup of tea with her.

“It was here…I mean, the picture is here but he isn’t.” The photo showed part of the lamp post she’d had her guide stand in front of. There was a bright, fuzzy ball of light obscuring part of the gaslight. Could it be a possible reflection off the light and her flash? She’d captured him in the frame, she was positive!

Her aunt looked over her arm at the frame revealing the street along with the courthouse. April didn’t like the knowing smile and twinkle to her aunt’s eye. “Oh, he’s there,” she said, peering up from over her tea cup.

“What do you mean?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“You’ve managed to capture what we call residual paranormal energy. See the spot of fuzzy light in the middle of the picture? You’ve captured an image of a paranormal orb. Welcome to the family, April. You’ve seen your first ghost.”

AuthorPic (1)About The Author: 

Loni Lynne is a stay at home mom, domestic goddess, U.S. Navy Veteran and lover of all things vintage/shabby-chic/Victorian and antique. From china cups and tea sets to lace doilies crocheted by hand (her grandmother made the best) she believes a touch of femininity never goes out of style.

Growing up all over the country she’s been blessed with experiencing a good deal of culture and lifestyles. Much like her personality, she has eclectic tastes in what she likes to read and write. There is no ‘one’ genre in which she settles for.

God and fate have been big influences in her life. Both have taken her to places she never thought she’d be, both in the physical sense and in the spiritual. She wrote brief stories and snippets of life as it happened to her in her youth, and encouraged by her teachers, continued to write. Blessed with a loving supportive family growing up, she was able to explore her options which at times have been put into use in her stories. The Navy–and fate, afforded her the opportunity to meet her Army, “Annapolis-native” husband and team up with him to parent two beautiful daughters.

Years later, her husband gave her the best birthday present ever–a laptop, a membership to Romance Writers of America and a goal to complete a manuscript for submission by her next birthday. She did it. A few years later She was blessed with one of those novels, Wanted: One Ghost, as her debut novel.

Website | Crescent Moon Press | Twitter | Facebook

Loni will be awarding a $50 Amazon or B&N gift card (winners choice) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Make sure to stop by all the tour stops and comment for more chances to win. Click the image below:

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