Virtual Book Tour: Daddy's Girl

Please welcome author J.M. Kelly, who is going to talk about her newest release, Daddy's Girl, and she's also bravely answered my infamous Rick Reed questions. The author will be giving away a gift basket of some of her favorite things, including a $25 Amazon GC and a signed copy of The Foreign Affairs anthology from Turquoise Press to a random commenter during the tour. The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. To see where her other stops are, go here.

The Questions

1)      You’re marooned on a small island with one person and one item of your choice—who is that person and what item do you have?

A boat maker and a book on…boat making. Hey, I have to be pragmatic. I can think of a handsome man to corrupt under the palm trees, but let’s be honest. After a day or so, the attractiveness factor is practically null, unless you’re armed with a ten gallon jug of mouthwash and razor blades that will never dull on you.

2)      Which musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that musical are you?

Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog. I’m absolutely the hapless Billy/Dr. Horrible, except I don’t (always) have

the urge for world domination.

3)      Take these three words and give me a 100 word or less scenario using them:  vowel, toothpick, profit

Oh, I’m terrible at this kind of thing.

If I had a dollar for every toothpick I never used in life, the profit would be through the roof. And also, can I buy a vowel?

Sorry. I deeply apologize for the horrific lameness present in those two sentences.

4)      You’ve just been let loose in the world of fiction, with permission to do anyone you want. Who do you fuck first and why?

I’d have to be a rebel and do Moriarty over Sherlock Holmes. I mean, if Holmes really looked like Robert Downey Jr., then sure, I’d be all over him. But I suspect Moriarty would be a lot of fun, what with all that evil genius going on.

  5)    What is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other?

I don’t think I’m a very romantic person. When I think of spending quality time with someone, it isn’t about wine and roses. I’m less interested in a man with all the right moves, and more interested in someone who can make me laugh.  My perfect night would be to order a pizza, watch Twister, and sprawl out on the couch with my (currently imaginary) significant other.

6)      When you start a new story, do you begin with a character, or a plot?

Usually the character appears to me first. There is a general plot idea, but the character idea pops into my head and develops as I mull over the concept. As the character develops in my head, so the plot begins to unfold.

7)      If they were to make the story of your life into a movie, who should play you?

Tina Fey. She’d be able to nail the awkwardness that haunts my life.

8)      Who’s your favorite horror villain and why?

I don’t have one character in particular, but I do have a thing for zombies. I firmly believe there has to be a zombie apocalypse someday, just because we’ve made so many jokes about planning for one. Karma is going to make us pay for all the snark about the walking dead.

9)      Do you have an historical crush and if so, who is it?

Does it count as historical if the person died recently? I have, since I first began watching Storm Chasers on Discovery, had a tremendous geek crush on Tim Samaras, engineer and storm chaser extraordinaire. I loved his dedication to his work, and I loved his goofy discomfort at being in front of a camera.  Unfortunately, his luck ran out in May, and his team was killed in the El Reno, Oklahoma tornado. Talk about absolute heartbreak, when I heard the news he was gone. I am still mourning this loss and will for a long time. He made being a geek so very cool, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without his tweets from the field anymore.

10)   Is there a story that you’d like to tell but you think the world isn’t ready to receive it?

Oh, absolutely. I just can’t tell you about it, because eventually I will work up the nerve to just write the damn story already.

DADDY'S GIRL

By

J.M. Kelley

BLURB:  

Sometimes, returning home isn’t about confronting your past; it’s about discovering your future.

Janie McGee, the black sheep of her family, is free-spirited, uninhibited, and never one to stay in the same place for too long. When Janie learns her father, Joe, is gravely ill, she reluctantly returns home to rural Pennsylvania to care for him. Joe’s neighbor, David Harris, sports a pocket protector, collects coins, and is addicted to Antiques Roadshow. Everything about him rubs Janie the wrong way, from his nerdy wardrobe to his enviable friendship with Joe. And to make matters worse, her father thinks they’re perfect for each other, proof positive of how little Joe knows his own daughter…or so Janie thinks.

A shared devotion to the elder McGee begins to close the gulf between Janie and David, but a burgeoning romance opens the door to new problems and unexpected consequences neither could foresee. Joe, however, remains steadfast in his resolve to show Janie that Daddy knows what’s best for his little girl. Can Janie finally open her heart to David while watching the first man she ever truly loved fade away?

EXCERPT:  

The interloper entered the room. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Janie, and he raised his hands up in front of him.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt you!” Janie shrieked, holding her ground.

“Joe might need that the next time he buys a pair of shoes,” the man said. His eyebrows arched theatrically while he gave Janie an appraising once over. His eyes lingered on her chest, she noted, which bolstered her resolve to kill him if he made any sudden moves.

Great. Janie tightened her grip on the shoe stretcher. Pervert.

The man stayed where he was and plastered an expression on his face that Janie assumed conveyed harmlessness. “You shouldn’t bean me with that. I doubt they make those anymore. It would be a shame to break it.”

Janie held the stretcher up higher, wincing as it wobbled flaccidly over her head. “If you knew my father, you’d know he only buys shoes once a decade. Who are you, damn it?”

“David Harris.” He slowly lowered his hands and took a step back. “I live next door. For the record, your father bought a pair of shoes last month. Are you Janie?”

Janie narrowed her eyes. “You’re David.”

A bemused smile curved his lips. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Almost certain she wasn’t about to be attacked, Janie dropped the stretcher to the bed. “I figured you’d be an octogenarian like my dad.”

“Your father is in his seventies.”

“So?”

“That would make him a septuagenarian.”

Janie blinked. “Oh,” she said. “Well, I rounded up. Sue me. What are you, anyway, the vocabulary police?”

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Three years ago, native Pennsylvanian J.M. Kelley packed her bags and moved south. Now, the wannabe Carolina Girl can’t speak a single sentence without adding the word y’all at the end of it, and regards a blast of snow flurries as a doomsday-level event.  When the day job allows, and when she can pull herself away from George Takei’s Facebook fanpage, she likes to go on writing jaunts to her favorite lake, or a local coffee shop with delicious shakes and questionable Wi-Fi connections.

J.M. Kelley is a proud recipient of a Carrie McCray Memorial Literary award, and is a member of The South Carolina Writers Workshop and Romance Writers of America (PAN). Readers interested in more information may visit her website at www.jmkelleywrites.com.

LINKS:

Email: readers@jmkelleywrites.com

Website: http://www.jmkelleywrites.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/JM-Kelley/108021242585994

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorJMKelley

Daddy’s Girl purchase links:

Turquoise Morning Press: http://www.turquoisemorningpressbookstore.com/products/daddys-girl-by-j-m-kelley

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Daddys-Girl-ebook/dp/B00B76P58S/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1359433661&sr=1-1&keywords=daddy%27s+girl+kelley

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/daddys-girl-jm-kelley/1114255053?ean=2940015960969&isbn=2940015960969

Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Daddys-Girl/book-KHCuDTSR9E2C7bbOEw-87A/page1.html?s=E-llxuUKm0m_cW4LB0jGNA&r=1

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/279529

AllRomance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-daddy039sgirl-1049844-149.html

Omnilit: https://www.omnilit.com/product-daddy039sgirl-1049844-232.html?oid=19

Guest Blogger Megan Johns

Please welcome today fellow Muse author Megan Johns, who is going to talk a little bit about Italy and her

newest release, A Shore of Secrets. I was privileged to meet Megan at Muse when I became her editor. A Shore of Secrets is a wonderful book, and I loved it! I'll also tell you a little secret - by the end of the book, I was in love with Giovanni myself! Make yourself at home, Megan, while I get us some capuccinos to drink. Readers, keep reading to the end, there will be a giveaway!

The Land of Love

The Republic of Venice was the pleasure capital of Europe in the 18^th century. Venice became a must on the Grand Tour of Europe for young men coming of age, owing much to its social vices. The renowned Carnival, gambling houses, and beautiful courtesans were huge attractions. Small surprise Italy developed a reputation as the land of love. Even Shakespeare based his most passionate story about falling in love here—Romeo and Juliet. It is also one of the reasons I chose it as the setting for my romantic novel ‘A Shore of Secrets’.

Venice is home to the renowned libertine Casanova.  He became so famous for his complicated and elaborate affairs with women that his name is now synonymous

with womanizer. However, more recent studies of him reveal a more complex character who, although a notorious seducer, was also seduced. He loved the women he had affairs with. He wasn't just a cad who bedded a woman then left her. He had rich relationships with women.

The image of amorous Latins owes much to Casanova. It seems he was not so much a callous libertine as a man in love with love. And who could resist that? As for Giovanni Renaldi—the hero in ‘A Shore of Secrets’—he is no Casanova, but he is powerfully intense and passionate in his own way.  I admit to falling slightly in love with him, so how can the heroine possibly resist?

 

MEDIA KIT

BLOG TOUR DATES 17 June – 05 July

AUTHOR BIO:  I live in a pretty village in the UK countryside, complete with a duck pond and stocks on the village green. With our daughter now grown up, my husband and I are empty nesters, apart from an adorable Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and some neighbouring alpacas.

I always enjoyed writing, but juggling family life and a lecturing career left little time. Only when life began to slow down did I start writing in earnest.

My reading tastes are eclectic. I enjoy Joanna Trollope because of the pithy way in which she deals with contemporary issues, also Rosamunde Pilcher and the late Maeve Binchy are firm favourites. I like to explore most genres, however.

In my own writing, I aim to focus on writing contemporary romance novels ‘with teeth’.

LATEST RELEASE TITLE:   ‘A SHORE OF SECRETS’

GENRE:   CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

TAG LINE:  ‘In all secrets there is a kind of guilt.’ Can Abi learn to trust, and Giovanni to forgive?

TAGS: Romance, contemporary romance, women’s fiction, Italy, Venice, holiday resort, British heroine, secrecy, trust

BLURB
‘Italia! Oh Italia! Thou who hast the fatal gift of beauty.’ Byron

And Venice is exquisite. Nor is the beauty confined to the place. Hotelier Giovanni Renaldi is tall, dark and devilishly handsome. Yet holiday representative Abi seems immune. Crossed in love, she is in no hurry to fall again. Plus his arrogance is so infuriating.

Surely the discomforting feelings he evokes can only be guilt at covering for his naive sister’s secret lover?

When passion finally wins through, the thrill of their lovemaking is soon wrecked. And Giovanni, proud and fierce defender of his family since inheriting the role of patriarch, is enraged to learn Abi has colluded with his sister.

But Abi quickly discovers her secrecy is nothing compared to Giovanni’s. As the family’s closely guarded secrets begin to unfold, she is sucked into their internal wrangling.

 Is nothing what it seems in this clandestine community?

And can love triumph over the turmoil of scarred lives?

SHORT EXCERPT: The piazza hummed with activity. A huddle of guests outside the hotel seemed in good spirits, despite their various states of undress. From beyond them, however, the shadowy image of a stretcher emerged. Abi’s stomach clenched. Pushing a path through the crowd of onlookers, she rushed toward it.

  “What’s going on?” she protested as the tall, imposing figure of Giovanni Renaldi appeared from nowhere to block her way.

  “Nothing to worry about,” he informed her in a manner so crisp it verged on brusque.

  A needle of pique worked its way through her veins and she regarded him head-on. He might be the epitome of Italian suave and sophistication, but any appeal was annihilated by his infuriating manner.

  “So, why the ambulance?”

  “There’s been a minor incident, that’s all. It’s just a routine check-up.”

  “Routine? At this time of night?” Her voice rose in sharp protest. Something about his demeanour struck a chord.  “If it’s one of my clients, I need to know what’s going on!”

  He regarded the shoes still dangling from the crook of her fingers and pitched her a severe look, as if addressing a child. Uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze, she wriggled her shoulders and looked away.

LONGER EXCERPT 

The entrance to the Casa Mia was to the right of the piazza, now buzzing with early evening activity as people spilled out to join in with the pre-dinner passeggiata. A slow-moving river of holidaymakers glided along the pedestrian-only shopping street, reputed to be the longest in Europe. From time to time, a group would dip out of the main flow to browse around one of the endless shops that lined the route. Others scanned menus on display outside the equally proliferate restaurants. Women in fine, tailored dresses and elegant gold jewellery promenaded arm-in-arm with designer-clad males. And then there was the younger set, exchanging playful banter, eager to show off their fashionable clothes. Families, too, strolled in convoy, at one in their low-key unfussy holiday attire. It was that type of resort. Nobody looked out of place.

  She paused to retrieve the note from her bag and scrutinised the writing to check she had not misread anything.

  “Hey, Abi!” A voice sounded from behind her.

  Turning, she acknowledged the client with a bright, “Hi. Everything okay?”

  “Great.” The woman’s low-cut dress revealed angry red strips across her breasts.

  She hunched a resigned shrug, accustomed by now to her clients’ ingrained disregard for the strength of the sun. Despite repeated warnings, it was an endemic madness for which the farmacia had an endless supply of high-strength creams. Thank goodness. The added complication of clients with severe burns would make her job intolerable. In the event, life was not so bad.

A trail of deep, pink bougainvillea escaped from the dense curtain of colourful bracts enshrouding the entrance to the Casa Mia. Stooping to push it back, she allowed a small smile to curve her lips.

  “Ciao.” A disembodied voice chimed the moment she stepped into the foyer.

  She turned to acknowledge Francesca beaming a broad smile from over in the dining room. The young girl’s perfect, naturally white teeth dazzled even from a distance.

  “Ciao,” Abi responded, her spirits lifted as ever. Francesca’s vitality bubbled over clear and bright, as refreshing as a mountain spring.

  “Come stai? Okay?” With careless abandon, the young girl threw down a handful of cutlery and proceeded to lay the table.

  "Così." Abi twitched a little shoulder shrug.

  Stopping her frenetic activity, the Italian girl fixed an earnest gaze on her. The brown eyes were anxious, almost child-like, as if a dimmer switch turned down the light in the youthful face. "Problema?"

  "I've come to meet Mr. Henderson." Abi swept the vicinity with vigilant eyes and then lobbed her a wink.

  A discordant clatter of cutlery resonated through the air. Francesca was by her side in no time. "He is no happy?"

  She grinned at the young girl, so fresh-faced and eager to please. Despite her best intentions, Francesca was like a butterfly—beautiful and graceful, always flitting here and there so you could never be certain what she was likely to do next.

  "Francesca!" Another disembodied voice echoed from the depths of the dining room, this one harsh and impatient. "Tavola!"

  "Un momento!" Rolling her eyes, Francesca blatantly disregarded the command.

  "It's okay. Mr. Henderson knows I'm meeting him here. You go back to the tables and I’ll wait." An oblique smile played at the corner of Abi’s mouth, reassuring the younger girl, and she pulled Rosa’s note from her bag, creased into neat folds, despite its dog-eared state.

  However, the voice was upon them before there was time to act. Giovanni's tall, dark form loomed out of the shadowy interior, the short sleeves of his crisp, white shirt a vivid contrast to his deep olive colouring.

  "Francesca!" A spark of temper lit his eyes to flaming gold and, with a commanding nod, he ushered his sister back to her abandoned duties.

  "Hallo." He turned to Abi, his annoyance curbed, and he adopted the cool, crisp, business-like manner that was his usual demeanour. "Can I help you?"

  His tone was mild, yet when she lifted her gaze she was hit by the piercing intensity of his stare. Her heart gave a little leap.

  "Thank you. I already have an appointment to meet Mr. Henderson here." Unsettled by the sensation of being scrutinised and assessed, she glanced aside. With a dry cough, she cleared her throat and endeavoured to regain the equilibrium he had destroyed. Her eyes shot back to him. “Actually, yes, you can help.  Maybe you could explain what happened last night? I need to complete a full and accurate report. There are a lot of unanswered questions at the moment.”

  He turned his watchful stare on her again. “It was nothing of any consequence. The fire alarm in the kitchen was triggered by some smoke from a pan.”

  “At one o’clock in the morning?”

  “Signor Donadini was making himself a snack. We hoteliers often have to eat at odd hours.” His manner remained bland, despite his obvious impatience.

  “And the ambulance?”

  “There was a minor mishap and the pan caught fire. Signor Donadini burnt his arm whilst putting it out and I insisted he should have the wound checked. There’s no need to make a drama of the situation.” Swiping the air with his hand as if to erase the words, he signalled the matter was closed. His body language defied her to question him further.

  A surge of anger threatened Abi’s equilibrium again. She, and not he, should be in the role of assessor. Yet Giovanni oozed authority from every pore. Not for the first time in his presence, she found herself struggling to maintain a professional standing.  She caught his ironic smile, as if he was enjoying her discomfort.

  “Is that all?”

  “Hmm...” Her tone was sceptical, conveying she was far from convinced, and her combative gaze clashed against his.

  For a fleeting second, his eyes seemed to spark. What the hell went on behind them she couldn’t begin to imagine. The moment passed. With one bat of his long lashes, he renewed his assault with a stare so icy it would have frozen a geyser.

BUY LINK https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=601&category_id=69&manufacturer_id=285&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1

http://tinyurl.com/c55958j

Author's Other Works:
‘The Path of Innocence’, published by Devine Destinies BUY LINK CLICK HERE

Short stories in the anthologies ‘Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road’ and ‘The Speed of Dark’ published by Chase Enterprises Publishing. BUY LINK CLICK HERE

Megan’s LINKS: http://www.megan-johns.com http://www.meganjohnsinvites.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/megan.johns.3766?ref=tn_tnmn
Twitter: Megan Johns @meganjohns12
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3420014.Megan_Johns

 Megan is offering a giveaway, a copy of A Shore of Secrets, to one lucky commenter! Don't forget to leave your email address!

 Thanks for stopping by, Megan, please visit again!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Sexy Snippets #7: Revelations

Good morning and Happy Sunday! Yesterday I received an awesome new review of Revelations, so I'm going to post a snippet from that today. You can read the review here. And you can follower the rest of the blog hop here.






Today's snippet is taken from Lucifer's POV (he says it's about time too lol) I hope you enjoy it, and have a great rest of the weekend!

           I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself—or the self that my adoring followers have come to know and love. Mr. Lassiter, at your service—founder and leader of the Citizens Opposed to Carnal Knowledge group. Or  C.O.C.K. for short.

            I do find it amusing, does that answer your next question?

            They are so insufferably self-righteous and intolerant—and very easily led. Not an independent mind among them. Makes things much easier for me.

Blurb:  Judas has never been very popular, not in any incarnation that he and Jesus and the others have lived through. But he doesn't care about that. All he cares about is following the instructions of God as set forth in the script that they follow. And Jesus. For Judas has secretly loved the son of God for over two thousand years.

But now he decides that enough is enough, and he's tired of watching Jesus die far too early, and for what? This time Judas is determined to see that Jesus lives a long and happy life, no matter what price he has to pay to accomplish it...no matter if he has to make a deal with the devil himself.

Revelations is a story of what could be, told by those who play it out, time after time after time, unbeknownst to the rest of mankind.  They've come back again, for yet another round.  But this time is going to be different.

Revelations is available from MuseitUp Publishing, as well as Amazon and ARe. 

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

My Sexy Saturday #2

For today's selection, I've gone back a little bit to one of my earlier stories, one I published with Dreamspinner, in 2010 I think. It's about a man named Michael whose daughter finds something in the attic that sets off memories of his high school crush, and a time when it wasn't very easy to be a hormonal gay teenager. The story is The Prince Wore Pink Stilettos. It's available at Dreamspinner Press here.

In this scene, it's the night of the prom, and Michael has chosen to work, because there's no one he wants to go with, other than the boy he doesn't have the nerve to talk to, much less ask out. The checker tells him that the strange guy is there, the one who wears a skirt and pink heels. Curious, Michael decides to stealthily check him out.

Okay, first things first. He was wearing a skirt—black and short—beneath which his long bare legs could be seen, smooth and muscled, and very shapely. The skirt accentuated the fact that he had a very cute ass, as well. The shirt he wore was a pale cream color and bare midriff, so that I could see that his stomach was indeed flat. And upon his feet were a pair of very pink, very high stiletto heels. But it was obvious to me, from the first glance I got of him, that he was used to wearing them, as he rocked back and forth steadily, intent upon what he was doing, totally unaware of my presence. Or so I thought. I moved closer, trying not to be too obvious, my mission being to return the can of coffee in my hand to its proper home. But he must have heard me, for he turned his head…

 …and oh my God, I found myself staring into the devastatingly beautiful face of Rob Marshall.

Whodathunkit?

Well, I might have wished it. But to actually see him like that, in the flesh and dressed in women’s clothing, was totally unnerving—and intensely electrifying, as I felt my autonomic system take hold, moving into autopilot—in other words, instant hard-on. I had to catch my breath, and I’m sure I must have come across as some sort of slack-jawed idiot, as I stopped in mid-motion and simply stood there, looking at him.

“Michael,” he said softly. Oh my God, he even knew my name? He didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest, and I realized that he was wearing an earring in one ear—a gold stud. Not clip-on, but pierced. I found that very sexy as well, and I wondered if he had any tattoos burned into his body, blushing at my own thoughts. “I didn’t know you worked here.” How did he know I worked here? Oh yeah, the uniform… duh….

“Um… yeah….” What a witty response—not!

He didn’t seem to be self-conscious about his unusual attire, but I was becoming increasingly aware of it. Painfully so. “You’re not at the prom,” he observed, pushing back his hair behind his ear.


I hope you enjoyed this little piece of Prince. Don't forget to check out the rest of the writers who are participating in the blog hop. You'll find them here. See you next week!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

The Last Grand Master Review

 The Last Grand Master   

Author: Andrew Q. Gordon

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

American release date: January 31, 2013

Format/Genre/Length: Novel/M/M Sc-Fi Fantasy Romance/344 pages

Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★

When a god deigns to personally request your assistance in a matter of some importance, is there any other answer than yes? Honorus appears before Prince Farrell to ask for his help on behalf of his sister, the goddess Lenore. Do what she asks, he instructs Farrell, and oh, by the way, you’ll also find your mate. Is that added incentive, or what?

Farrell is the Prince of Haven, but much more than that, he is the Last Grand Master, a most powerful wizard, despite his fairly tender years. Haven is a place of refuge for those who have fled before the tyranny and evil that is Meglar – emperor and wizard and all-round bad guy. Farrell has been training all his life to take on Meglar, and while he has the love of his people, he has yet to find the one special love that all people yearn for. Honorus sends a messenger in the form of the unicorn, Queen Nerti, and the adventure begins!  When Farrell first meets the Muchari warrior, Miceral, he secretly wishes that the handsome man is his intended love, for he is incredibly good-looking. But such things don’t happen to little guys like him. Or do they?

The Last Grand Master is a sci-fi fantasy in the grand tradition of Anne McCaffrey, Neil Gaiman, and Terry Brooks, combined with a m/m romance that will leave you cheering for the love between the two main characters, Farrell and Miceral. Gordon has woven for us a complex world where magic is the norm, and wizards are a part of everyday life.  I especially enjoy the way he explains the spells as Farrell performs them. He doesn’t simply throw them out there and say this is what happened. He makes them understandable in a realistic way—supposing these things were possible, of course. He makes it easy to believe that they are.

The story is told through Farrell’s eyes. He hasn’t had an easy life. Farrell isn’t even his real name. His family has been destroyed by the maniacal Meglar, leaving him alone in the world. It’s only natural that he wishes to prevent the evil wizard from hurting anyone else. Farrell is also a realist, and in the real world people must die. He doesn’t hesitate to destroy those that ally themselves with Meglar, and he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself into the thick of any fray.

Gordon writes with a charming and beguiling voice, and you quickly find yourself caring about Farrell, and the people he loves. The characters are well-written, and the plot is both creative and intriguing. While the love between Farrell and Miceral is quite strong, Andrew takes you up to the point where the lovemaking begins and then draws the curtain. While I enjoy explicit sex as much as the next person, I didn’t find the lack of it detracted in any way from my enjoyment of this book. The emotions are there, and that’s what counts. You can always use your imagination to fill in the blanks.

The Last Grand Master is an epic tale and one I highly recommend. The good news is that there will be more of this series, and I can’t wait to read them. Inside this book, you will find adventure, humor, romance, action, drama, sci-fi and fantasy, intricately woven into an amazingly fantastic tale.

When magic is the great equalizer, even a nerdish wizard can find true love!

Wednesday Briefs: No Way Out #8

Hard to believe the week is half gone! Time flies when you're having fun lol  Happy Wednesday, one and all! This week's prompts were: "The game is afoot!" or "Feet don't fail me now" or a feat of strength or use: alligator, clip, residue or use a storm in some way or "You are the wind beneath my wings" or "Come sail away" or "Please pass the..." or find a creative use for mayonnaise or make a My Favorite Martian reference.

Last week in No Way Out, as you'll recall, Shy closed the door on Wyatt, but then relented, and even agreed to meet Wyatt somewhere the next day. What does that portend? See what happens in this week's episode, and then see what the other Wednesday Briefers are up to!

No Way Out #8

Why did Wyatt feel as if he’d just gained a major concession of some sort? As though the words came with a price? But that was silly, wasn’t it? He pushed the thought aside, focused on Shy’s question instead.

Where to meet? He hadn’t honestly thought that far ahead. He’d blurted out the words as a reaction to Shy’s attempt to push him away, which he didn’t understand. But he wanted to understand. Very badly. There was a story there, one he wished to learn. He already suspected the answer involved Randy. His dislike for the pompous older man was only growing stronger.

“Where’s good for you?” Maybe if he let Shy choose the venue, he’d feel more comfortable about it.

He watched Shy closely as he considered his answer. He seemed calm but the rapid rise and fall of his chest belied his outward demeanor, as if he kept a tight rein on himself.

What in God’s name was he so afraid of? And why did he keep peering behind Wyatt, as if he expected the devil himself to appear at any moment.

Maybe he did.

Just as Wyatt was beginning to think Shy had no intention of making a reply, he ran his tongue over his lips, took a deep breath, and murmured, “Shop For Less. Ten o’clock.”

A grocery store? Confusion, tempered by disappointment, cascaded through Wyatt. Not exactly what he’d had in mind. Certainly not the place for intimate conversation of the getting-to-know-you variety. He looked into Shy’s eyes, opening his mouth to protest, but something in those big blue eyes stopped him cold and without thinking, he repeated Shy’s words, adding, “I’ll be there.”

The next moment he was staring at the door once more. He could take a hint.

Well, now that he’d gotten his way he could.

No sense in pushing his luck. As spooked as Shy seemed, he didn’t think it would take much to push him over the edge. As he turned away from the house, a small smile of satisfaction crept over his lips. He would have fist pumped in triumph but both hands were full. So much for his offer of ice cream. He could see Shy wanted it. So why didn’t he take one?

“The game is afoot!” he announced in his best imitation of the inestimable Sherlock Holmes. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough to suit Wyatt.

* * * *

Shy peeked through the front curtains until he saw Wyatt’s retreating figure disappear into the house across the street. Then he counted to ten quickly and hurried to remove any and all trace of the ice cream from the front step. Once he’d scrubbed it to his satisfaction, he hurried back inside and released a long breath of relief.

Okay, back to reality. What did he just agree to, and why? Did he really say he’d meet Wyatt tomorrow morning at the grocery store? What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t, that was the problem. At least not with his mind. He hadn’t thought with his dick in so long, it had taken him by surprise. Not since those long ago days when he’d been young and innocent, and he thought Randy Grant was the answer to everything.

A violent tremor crashed through his body. He reached out, clutched the arm of a wingback chair for support. He forced himself to breathe through the panic, until he felt secure enough to stand on his own.

What was done was done. He could hardly undo it—and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to. The most important thing was to make sure Randy never found out. He had to put on the most convincing act ever. The best way to do that would be to remove thoughts of Wyatt from his mind, focus on the house, and his chores.

Tomorrow had to remain his dirty little secret.

* * * *

Shy’s life was a regulated one. Randy had written a schedule for him that Shy copied onto the dry erase board that hung in the kitchen. Every day had been assigned both general chores and specific ones. On Thursdays, Shy did the shopping. The dietician emailed Randy the menus for the following week the night before. Then Randy made up the actual list and printed it out. Shy was forbidden to deviate from it even one iota. No spontaneous purchases, nothing special for himself. He had to account for every penny spent. Randy scrutinized each receipt with an eagle eye. Even though he made good money, he was as tightfisted as they came, especially when it came to Shy.

The car that he allowed Shylor to drive was second hand, an old Chevy compact, over fifteen years old. Nothing much to look at, but it was dependable, and it allowed Shy the freedom to run his errands. God forbid Randy allow him to use his car—that would never happen.

 Shy could never park in the driveway, but was relegated to the back of the house, where the car couldn’t be seen from the street. Shy didn’t care. It was a mode of transportation, nothing more.

But today it was his ticket to paradise.

As he served breakfast, Shy was careful to maintain his carefully cultivated mask. He paid close attention to Randy’s instructions, along with the list. Nothing he’d not heard before. After five years, it was the same old litany. But he pretended to hang on his every word.

Randy took another sip of coffee and grunted his satisfaction. Not that he’d think to praise Shy for it, or anything else. To Shy’s dismay, he seemed in no hurry to leave. Why today?

But leave he did, at last, with last minute instructions to pick up his dry cleaning for some affair tomorrow night.

Once he’d gone, Shy checked his reflection in the mirror, retied his hair with a slender red ribbon and stared into his own eyes.

Was he really going to do this?

to be continued

Now join my fellow flashers in their merry revels:

BL Morticia 

Lily Sawyer     

Cia Nordwell     

A.R. Von 

MA Church  

Victoria Adams      

Elyzabeth VaLey     

J.A. Harmon 

Andrew Gordon 

 Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Virtual Book Tour: Hidden

Please welcome author M. Lathan, who is going to talk about her newest release, Hidden. The author is giving a price of a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour, so comment often! You can find the other stops of the tour here. Look for the rafflecopter at the end of the blog.

HIDDEN

By

M. Lathan

BLURB:  

Sixteen-year-old Leah Grant has given up on being normal. She’d settle for stopping the voices in her head, intrusive visions of the future, and better odds of making it to her seventeenth birthday.

That’s the thing about pretending to be human in a world where magic used to exist – at any moment, her cover could be blown and she’ll be burned to death like the rest of the witches.

Everything changes when she loses control of her powers and flees the orphanage she grew up in. She desperately wants to be invisible but finds her face plastered on every news channel as humans panic over the possible resurgence of her kind. And now the hunters won’t give up until they find her.

Making friends for the first time in her life and falling in love with one of them drives her to discover why she is unlike any being she’s ever met – human or otherwise. The dangerous powers inside of her that would repel Nathan, her new, handsome reason for living, are priceless to some. The locked up forever kind of priceless. And to others, they are too dangerous to allow her to live.

Let’s hope she can stay hidden.

EXCERPT: 

Sienna snatched last week’s Chemistry test from my desk. I hadn’t turned it over. I knew it was a D minus.

She cackled and passed it around.

“Leah, you would think someone who spends most of her time alone would have better grades,” she said. Her birds laughed on cue. “What do you do all day? Obviously not study.” She gasped slowly like she’d gotten a revelation in that blonde head of hers. “You fantasize about us, don’t you? You probably sleep in Whit’s old bed to feel close to her.”

Laughter spread around the room like an airborne disease. Disease. I shivered. That was an intriguing thought; I could almost hear the sound their bodies would make against the floor when it hit.

“Leah, come on. Say something. Scream at me, it’s been a while. At least cry,” Sienna said, laughing and leaning into my desk, closer to danger.

I didn’t cry. I never cry. And if I were going to, it wouldn’t be because of Sienna. I had bigger problems. I’d just broken a promise I’d made to God to not think about hurting His people, His children. And today was not the day to piss Him off.

My old roommate, Whitney Nguyen, graciously returned my test as she cackled with the rest of the birds. She liked the idea of me pining over her, but she knew I didn’t spend my free time thinking about her or sleeping in her old bed. After fourteen years of hard labor as my roommate, she’d given up on being friends or me being remotely normal. The current theory to explain my oddness was that I was in love with all of the girls and consumed by lust.

As long as they didn’t know it was magic.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

M. Lathan lives in San Antonio with her husband and mini-schnauzer. She enjoys writing and has a B.S. in Psych and a Masters in Counseling. Her passion is a blend of her two interests – creating new worlds and stocking them with crazy people. She enjoys reading anything with interesting characters and writing in front of a window while asking rhetorical questions … like her idol Carrie Bradshaw.  

Links

Website: mlathan.com

Twitter: @hiddenseries

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/hiddenseries/

Buy links: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=B00A6301BO

RAFFLECOPTER CODE

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