It's been three years since we failed Vicky, the child once known as Elizabeth Gray. Three years she's lived as something not quite alive, but far from dead. Her path grows darker, even as she spreads light and hope through a tortured world. The Destroyer has come to claim her, and I can’t fail her again. I won't. Elizabeth's fate lies in the Burning Lands, and we will storm the gates.
Eric is a former bookseller, guitarist, and comic seller currently living in Saint Louis, Missouri. A lifelong enthusiast of books, music, toys, and games, he discovered a love for the written word after being dragged to the library by his parents at a young age. When he is not writing, you can usually find him reading, gaming, or buried beneath a small avalanche of Transformers.
Do you want to stay in the know with the goings on of the fabulous Eric Asher?
Then be sure to sign up for his Newsletter.
Catch up on the rest of the series!!
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1BFeOZbKobo: http://bit.ly/1w0XavR
The Rake's Irish Lady
by Barbara Monajem
Series: Scandalous Kisses, #2
Genre: Historical Romance - Regency
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Cover Designer: Anna Spies
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Cover Designer: Anna Spies
Release Date: December 30, 2015
ONE WILD NIGHT . . .
Widowed & lonely, Bridget O’Shaughnessy Black indulges herself in a night of pleasure.
After all, she's in disguise. And the baby girl? An unexpected blessing...until an old flame claims the child as his own to force Bridget to marry him.
ONE DETERMINED LADY. . .
Many women pursued Colin Warren, but only one climbed in his bedchamber window. When Bridget does it for the second time, she doesn't have fun in mind. Colin is unfit to be a parent, and yet he has no choice but to acknowledge the little girl.
RISKING EVERYTHING FOR LOVE
Circumstances force Bridget and Colin together, yet grave differences divide them. Can love bridge the chasm that keeps them apart?
Bridget shouldn’t let herself smile at Colin, because that invited a smile in return. The kind with dimples and a hunger that reached his eyes.
Probably reached hers, too, so she sighed and turned away. Yearning to touch him had become a physical ache, and even a brush of his hand, much less a boost on her derriere, made it a thousand times worse.
They wouldn’t catch up to the others tonight, but tomorrow, once the rain was over, they would find an alternate route. One more night of self-control…
She was a fool to want him, but she couldn’t help it. What had come over her? Suddenly, stupidly, she was willing to risk another illegitimate child by him.
They were almost at the inn. She dreaded another restless night. She needed something to distract her. “Where are those apples? The horses deserve a treat.”
Colin passed her the basket. She took four of the wrinkled apples. They pulled up in front of a battered old building with weathered timbers and dormers peeking from under a thatched roof. No eager servant came rushing out of the inn to greet them.
“House!” Colin bellowed, opening the coach door. Without bothering to let down the steps, he took Bridget by the waist and lifted her down into the rain. This time his hands didn’t linger. “Hurry up and give them the damned apples. Let’s get out of this bloody rain.”
“Would you stop fussing?” she cried. “We’ll catch up to Martin eventually.”
“That’s not what I’m fussing about,” he snapped, heading for the rear of the coach. Bridget offered apples to the wheeler and leader on one side and then stalked around to treat the others.
A spare, grizzled man limped out of the inn. “Come in, come in,” he said, but his eyes widened at the sight of Colin, in his wet but obviously costly clothing, unearthing two valises from the boot. “I’m that sorry, sir, but I don’t have accommodation for the likes of you.”
“Does your roof leak?” Colin demanded. “Do the fireplaces smoke?”
“No sir, but—”
“Will the horses be warm and dry too?” Bridget piped up, and suddenly she began to shiver.
“Aye, the stables is fine,” the landlord said.
“Then we’ll do fine, too.” Colin dropped the valises on the doorstep. “Warm and dry is all we ask, and I’ll pay handsomely for it.”
A stout lady in an old-fashioned mobcap appeared in the doorway. “What are you waiting for, Stan? I’ll light a fire in the guest chamber. Let the gentleman and his missus in before they catch their deaths.”
The landlord still seemed uneasy. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve only the one small guest room, and not even a private parlor.”
“We’ll do fine,” Bridget and Colin said simultaneously. Their hands touched and twined together. Clung together, as if one or the other of them—or both—was afraid the other would let go. Or as if they were about to plunge off a cliff and holding on for dear life.
Bridget’s heart began to pound. She slid her gaze surreptitiously toward Colin. He wasn’t looking at her but rather straight ahead. A drop of water rolled from his wet hair, over his brow, and down to his upper lip. His tongue flicked out and licked it up.
Desire roared through her. She shuddered. His right dimple appeared, but so briefly she almost didn’t see it.
The landlady bustled away, and the landlord grabbed the valises. “Just you follow me, then. I’m Stan Butterworth, and that’s my rib, Martha.” He led them through the taproom. “You’ll want to change out of them wet clothes first of all, and then we’ll see to your supper.” He preceded them up a narrow flight of stairs. “My Martha’s a right good cook, and we had mutton stew to our dinner, but it won’t be what you’re accustomed to.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious,” Bridget managed. Could food possibly have been farther from her mind?
“It can get right rowdy in here on a fair evening,” Mr. Butterworth said, “but we won’t have much custom tonight, what with the storm and all. You’ll have a peaceful sleep.”
Colin made a sound between a snort and a laugh, but he didn’t let go of her hand.
Barbara loves to cook, especially soups, and is an avid reader. There are only two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding and succeed at knitting socks (or maybe tea cozies). She’ll manage the first but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second. This is not a bid for immortality but merely the dismal truth (hence the tea cozies, which she hasn’t tried yet). She lives near Atlanta, Georgia with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.
It’s the release day for Night Fox, a new contemporary romance from Tia Giacalone! I am so excited about this book!!! Check out the exclusive excerpt and enter Tia’s giveaway!
About Night Fox: Beckett Fox lives his life on the edge between danger and responsibility, and that’s all he’s ever known… until he meets Avery. Now, time at home is more appealing than the do-or-die future he’d always pictured for himself. Fox has everything he’s ever wanted. But he knows better than anyone that life can change direction faster than the wind. When an accident threatens to destroy his entire world, Fox will have to choose between fighting for what he loves or letting his past dictate his future. How much strength does it take to move forward when history seems determined to knock you down? And how do you find the path to redemption when you don’t even recognize your own life?
When the wind shifted, I knew this would be more than an eighteen-hour day. We all did. I went through the motions I’d been trained for, checking supplies, working the containment line, keeping up communications with air support and the ranger station. Trying not to get burned alive by the furious inferno that seemed intent on taking down all four million acres of the Oka-Wen National Forest… the usual. No time to think about anything else, no time to dwell on the months-empty condo back in Seattle or the fact that lately everything I did seemed like a prequel to my life actually starting. This fire wanted us, and she wasn’t giving up. Mother Nature had it in her to be the worst girlfriend you’d ever had. “Damn, Foxy,” McDaniels panted, jogging up to my side. “Is today over yet or what?” I cracked a grin at him, feeling the blistering heat from the sun and the fire mix into one and swirl around us as I hefted my chainsaw. “Not by a landslide.” McDaniels gave me the side-eye. “Really? You wanna joke about landslides?” “Hey now,” Sloane popped his head out of the crew buggy where he was listening intently to the handheld radio. “None of that.”
About Tia Giacalone:
Tia Giacalone is a hairstylist, a former English Lit major, and blogger-turned-New Adult author. After many years of writing a now-retired personal blog, her work was also featured on numerous forums including Open Salon and Hooray Collective. She believes in eyeliner as a defense mechanism, equal rights, and Marc Jacobs. Her favorite things include One Direction, story time, and the overzealous use of punctuation. When not writing and reading, she binge watches only the best (subjective) TV shows. Tia lives in Southern California with her husband, daughter, and tiny dog. www.facebook.com/tiawritesbooks @tiawritesbooks www.instagram.com/tiawritesbooks @tiawritesbooks www.twitter.com/tiawritesbooks www.tiawritesbooks.com
Enter Tia’s Giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway