Book Blitz + Giveaway: The Changelings

The Changelings
Elle Casey
(War of the Fae #1)
Publication date: February 5th 2012
Genres: Urban Fantasy, YoungAdult

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY, brings readers Book 1 in the YA Urban Fantasy WAR OF THE FAE Series.
Jayne Sparks, a potty-mouthed, rebellious seventeen-year-old and her best friend, shy and bookish Tony Green, have a pretty typical high school existence, until several seemingly unrelated incidents converge, causing a cascade of events that change their lives forever. Jayne and Tony, together with a group of runaway teens, are hijacked andsent into a forest, where nothing and no one are as they seem. Who will emerge triumphant? And what will they be when they do?
Content Warning: Mild violence and significant foul language within. Meant for older Young Adult readers (age 15+).

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EXCERPT:

I couldn’t take much more of the high school nonsense. I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there. Where would I be if I weren’t there? … I don’t know. All I did know was I was in the middle of all that crap, going to class, taking tests – but I was on autopilot, going through the motions, waiting for life to start happening.
Sitting in World History and bored out of my mind, I was looking at a girl one row over who was the polar opposite of me. She was staring attentively at the teacher, her pen poised above an already nearly full page of notes, eager to write down every nugget of educational wisdom he was throwing our way. She loved high school, and she had big plans for moving on to college next year. She had cheer practice after school and a boyfriend named Mike who played wide receiver on the football team. Ugh.
I owned a pen. I probably had some paper somewhere in my backpack too. That day, however, I was using my pen to draw symbols all over my right hand – temporary tattoos. I write and eat with my left hand but do just about everything else with my right.My own body was confused with what it was supposed to do.
I was in the minority in that school. It seemed like just about everyone else knew exactly what they were doing now and what they were going to be doing until the day they died. Me? I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was this wasn’t it.

Author Bio:
Elle Casey, a former attorney and teacher, is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American author who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and a number of furry friends. She has written books in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

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Book Blitz + Giveaway: Nora & Kettle

Nora & Kettle 

Lauren Nicolle Taylor

Published by: Clean Teen Publishing

Publication date: February 29th 2016

Genres: Historical, Young Adult

What if Peter Pan was a homeless kid just trying to survive, and Wendy flew away for a really good reason?

Seventeen-year-old Kettle has had his share of adversity. As an orphaned Japanese American struggling to make a life in the aftermath of an event in history not often referred to—the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II and the removal of children from orphanages for having “one drop of Japanese blood in them”—things are finally looking up. He has his hideout in an abandoned subway tunnel, a job, and his gang of Lost Boys.

Desperate to run away, the world outside her oppressive brownstone calls to naïve, eighteen-year-old Nora—the privileged daughter of a controlling and violent civil rights lawyer who is building a compensation case for the interned Japanese Americans. But she is trapped, enduring abuse to protect her younger sister Frankie and wishing on the stars every night for things to change.

For months, they’ve lived side by side, their paths crossing yet never meeting. But when Nora is nearly killed and her sister taken away, their worlds collide as Kettle, grief stricken at the loss of a friend, angrily pulls Nora from her window.

In her honeyed eyes, Kettle sees sadness and suffering. In his, Nora sees the chance to take to the window and fly away.

Set in 1953, NORA AND KETTLE explores the collision of two teenagers facing extraordinary hardship. Their meeting is inevitable, devastating, and ultimately healing. Their stories, a collection of events, are each on their own harmless. But together, one after the other, they change the world.

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EXCERPT:

I snort, push my sleeves up, and lean back on my forearms. She watches me, her eyes on my bare skin, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “Dances. Really? What’s to miss?” My experience with dances was one forced event in the camps where we watched the grownups awkwardly shift in lines to scratchy music. It didn’t look very enjoyable.

She releases the button she’s been playing with and smirks. “Says someone who’s clearly never been to one.”

“How do you know that?” I say, raising an eyebrow and touching my chest, mock offended.

She laughs. It’s starlight in a jar. I blink slowly. “Oh, I can tell just by looking at you, the way you move. You,” she says, pointing at me accusingly. “Can’t dance.”

The candlelight twinkles like it’s chuckling at me. “I can dance,” I say, not sure why I’m lying to defend myself. I’ve never danced in my life.

She stands up and beckons me with her finger, and I think there’s something wrong withmy heart. It’s hurting… but the pain feels good.

She looks like a pirate’s cabin boy, shirt billowing around her small waist, ill-fitting pants rolled over at her hips to stop them from falling down. She points her bare foot at me. “Prove it!”

Shit!

I cough and stand nervously. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I put them behind my back. She giggles. Touches me. Runs her fingers lightly down my arms until she finds my hands. She grasps my wrists and I gulp as she places one on the small dipbetween her hips and her ribs, extending the other out like the bow of a boat. Her hand in mine.

I follow her small steps and we wind in circles, avoiding the clumps of debris, painting patterns in the dust.

I stare at my socks and her narrow bare feet, listening to the swish of them across the dirt. “You know, this is pretty weird without music,” I mutter, looking up for a momentand suddenly losing my balance.

She exhales and brings us back to equilibrium. She starts humming softly. It’s a song I’ve heard before, but I pretend it’s the first time. Her voice is sweet, cracked and croaky, but in tune as she gazes at the ground and leads us up and down the back of the tunnel.

This moment is killing me. I don’t want it, but I do. Because I know it won’t be enough and it’s all I’ll get.

The end of the song is coming. It rises and rises and then softly peters out. We look at each other, understanding that something is changing between us, and we have to decide whether to let it. Please, let it.

She sings the last few bars. “And if you sing this melody, you’ll be pretending just like me. The world is mine. It can be yours, my friend. So why don’t you pretend?”

Her voice is like the dust of a comet’s tail. Full of a thousand things I don’t understand but want to.

She stops and starts to step away. She’s so fragile. Not on the outside. On the outside, her body is strong, tougher than it should have to be. It’s inside that’s very breakable. I’m scared to touch her, but I don’t want to avoid touching her because of what she’s been through. That seems worse.

So I do it, because I want to and I don’t think she doesn’t want me to. Her breath catches as I pull her closer. I just want to press my cheek to hers, feel her skin against mine. There is no music, just the rhythm of two barely functioning hearts trying to reach each other through miles of scar tissue.

She presses her ear to my chest and listens, then she pulls back to meet my eyes, her expression a mixture of confusion and comfort. She breathes out, her lips not wanting to close but not wanting to speak. She settles on a nervous smile and puts her arms around my neck. I inhale and look up at the ceiling, counting the stars I know are up there somewhere, and then rest my cheek in her hair.

I don’t know how she is here. I don’t know when she’ll disappear.

We sway back and forth, and it feels like we might break. That we will break if we step apart from each other.

I can’t let her go.

I think I love dancing.

Author Bio:

Lauren Nicolle Taylor lives in the lush Adelaide Hills. The daughter of a Malaysian nuclear physicist and an Australian scientist, she was expected to follow a science career path, attending Adelaide University and completing a Health Science degree withHonours in obstetrics and gynaecology.

She then worked in health research for a short time before having her first child. Due to their extensive health issues, Lauren spent her twenties as a full-time mother/carer to her three children. When her family life settled down, she turned to writing.

She is a 2014 Kindle Book Awards Semi-finalist and a USA Best Book Awards Finalist.

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Book Blitz + Giveaway: Pearl

Pearl 

Deirdre Riordan Hall

Published by: Skyscape

Publication date: March 1st 2016

Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Run fast and run far, unless you’re fearless. Unless you’re courageous. I’m not, but I’d like to be.

Pearl Jaeger is seventeen and homeless after drugs, poverty, and addiction unraveled the life she shared with JJ, her formerly glamorous rock star mother.

This moment of happiness is fleeting; someone will take it from me.

When tragedy brings a chance to start over at an elite boarding school, she doesn’t hesitate. Yet the only salvation comes from an art teacher as troubled as Pearl, and she faces the stark reality that what she thought she wanted isn’t straightforward.

I trace the outline of my reflection in a window. I am no more than a replica of my mother. This is not the self-portrait I want to paint.

Through the friendships she forms at school—especially with Grant, a boy who shows Pearl what it means to trust and forgive—she begins to see a path not defined by her past. But when confronted with the decision to be courageous or to take the easy way forged by her mother’s failures, which direction will Pearl choose?

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EXCERPT:

Chapter 2

Sweat and tears intermingle on my mother’s face, and a cut bleeds slowly from the side of her eye.

“Pearl, we gotta get out of here.”

I’ve heard this before. We’ve had to leave abruptly from other situations: lousy boyfriends, landlords she owed rent to, roommates she’d stolen from, and the police.

As the stream of blood reaches her T-shirt, she clutches her side. Her face crumples in agony. “I think I have a broken rib. He hit me with his guitar.”

Everything about this is wrong. I want to wish it all away—go somewhere simple, clean, and faraway, like Antarctica. I’d prefer the cold to the fevered flush of fear runningthrough me. I get to my feet and grab a pair of stretch pants from the floor. I help her into them. As she leans on me, we slowly make our way to the door. In the hall, she fallsagainst the door frame of the bathroom.

“Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She probably needs an ambulance, but who knows how much crack—and whatever else—she has in her system, so I dare not get the police involved. We’ve gone that route, and I don’t want to see her arrested again.

“Wait. Get my purse and some clothing. Pack me a bag. No, never mind. I’ll do it,” she says hoarsely. She gets to her hands and knees and crawls back to her room.

“Mom, come on, let’s just go. I can come back for whatever you need later.” I grip my hands together, my fingers blanching as I hold on tight.

“I have to get a few things,” she whimpers.

“I’ll get them. Tell me what you need,” I say insistently, my vision starting to blur.

She shakes her head, continuing. She wants to get the crack pipe and other drug paraphernalia she has hidden in her room. This scenario is uncomfortably familiar.

I shift from foot to foot. My stomach clenches with anxiety. What if Darren comes back?

Part of me fears what other damage he might do, but the bitter part is that if he comes back with drugs, she’ll do them instead of getting medical attention.

“Mom, let’s go.”

She must have used the bed to pull herself up and stand, because she emerges, staggering on her feet, dragging a duffel bag. “Why don’t you grab some clothes too?”

I scoot past her and stuff a couple of outfits, underwear, and Vogue into my backpack. I scrounged whatever I could this past month, saving every penny, even the ones I found on the ground, to get the latest issue, my lone extravagance. “Ready?” I say when I step back into the hall.

She nods. Step-by-step, we make our way down two of the three flights. She droopson the top of the last one.

“Do you have any money?” she asks.

“No,” I answer honestly. I tried getting a job, but no luck. I com- plain that I have a young face, and well-meaning adults assure me that when I get older, I’ll be thankful. It doesn’t help me now. I inherited my mother’s youthful look, the one she had before drugs and alcohol took their toll. But I’m already taller than her, five seven to her five three, my father’s genes. I’m slender, but that probably has more to do with the scarcity of a hot meal than anything else. She occasionally reminds me I have my father’s gray eyes and his height, like my DNA insults her.

She mumbles something about going to the bank, but all she’ll find are overdraft fees and denied credit. I’m afraid to tell her.

“Go out to the street. See if you recognize anyone. Tell them I need to see them,” she orders me.

I bound down the stairs. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust as I emerge into the bright summer sun. I look up and down the sidewalk. A homeless guy perches on top of a newspaper box, and a kid rides by on a bike. Finding someone my mother knows is a sketchy task. I retreat inside.

“I didn’t see anyone.”

“Pearl, I need to get out of here.” Her cheek rests against the grimy wall, and the gash on the other side still bleeds, staining her yellow T-shirt crimson around the shoulder. “Go across the street to the apartment with the Christmas wreath on the door. Knock six times.” She lifts her knuckles and beats them, weakly, on the floor. “Ask for Pauline.”

The building across the street houses a pimp and an assortment of women who emerge, raccoon-like, around dusk. I’ve met Pauline, long limbed, with scars on her arms that she doesn’t try to hide. My mother has gone over there a few times and returned with fifty, and sometimes a hundred, bucks.

I knock as directed. Vinyl blinds part, and a pair of bloodshot eyes appear. The dooropens a crack. I seize the opportunity.

“I’m looking for Pauline. My mom, across the street, needs to see her. It’s urgent.”

The door opens just enough to let me slip through into a dark foyer. Something like cinnamon hangs in the air, but mostly I smell cigarettes and defeat.

A woman about my mom’s age, wearing a silk robe, leads me back to the kitchen.

“Midge. Says she’s lookin’ for Pauline. Somethin’ about her mother across the street.”

A giant of a man sits at the kitchen table, playing solitaire. He looks up at me and licks his lips. “Whatcha looking for, sweetheart?”

I swallow hard. Leave it to my mother to put me in this situation. I draw a breath. “Janet, across the street, Pauline’s friend, she just needs her help real quick.” I sense that if I bring any word of trouble to the table, they’ll escort me to the door.

Midge looks at me full on, his eyes simultaneously hungry and concerned. Finally, he jerks his head toward the lady who answered the door. She gives me a sharp look before exiting.

“Pauline will be right with you,” he says gruffly before returning to his game.

With the toe of my boot, I trace the lines between the tiles on the floor like a maze, trying to find a way out of feeling vulnerable and helpless.

I hear Pauline’s smoky voice from down the hall before she appears. She greets mewith her arms opened wide. Even though we’ve only met a few times, a long embrace isher customary greeting.

As we exit the shady building, Pauline asks, “You still collecting those magazines?”

I nod.

“I’ll be sure to save some for you. Sometimes the girls leave them in the house.”

I hope I’m not still hanging around here by the time the next issue comes out.

I jaywalk through traffic, filling Pauline in on what happened. I worry Darren may have returned.

When Pauline pushes open the door to the building, my mother is where I left her, but with her eyes closed. At first, I fear she fainted, but she’s probably been up at least twenty-four hours, if not longer. Pauline, gentle as ever, strokes my mother’s leg to wake her up. For a vague instant, I picture Pauline tending babies or the elderly. She doesn’t belong in this harsh life.

“Pauline,” my mom says, brightening.“Hiya, JJ, how ya doin’?” she coos softly.“Been better.”“Well, come on,” Pauline says, wrapping her arms underneath my mother’s to help her up.“Where we going?” Pauline asks, but before my mother answers,

Pauline suggests, “How about the Constance House up on Riverside?” I get the sense she’s done this before. Constance House is a battered women’s shelter—a placeI doubt will abide my mother’s lifestyle—and as such, I expect Janet to protest, but apparently Pauline’s caring manner is all the convincing she needs.

“Pearl, you have a towel or something? She can’t go in a cab like this. She needs shoes too.”

I run upstairs. Each step reminds me that Darren might be back any second. I grab a pair of flip-flops and look in the bathroom cabinet for a towel. There aren’t any clean, so I pull a worn pillowcase off the bed and race back down to meet them outside.

“Thatta girl. Thanks,” Pauline says as she helps my mother into the flip-flops. Janet’s eyes are nearly closed as she leans heavily against Pauline’s shoulder.

It’s times like these I’d also like to give myself over to Pauline’s capable hands, the hands of a mother, sister, caretaker. Instead, she hails a cab and hands me a twenty.

“Look after her, Pearl,” she says before I close the cab door. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but how can she expect a kid to look after a grown woman when neither one knows how to take care of herself?

The cab drops us off on a side street in front of an anonymous brick building. A woman with tight curls confidently helps us inside. I flash to a magazine clipping of my mother holding her hand up to the camera as she emerged from a limo, back when the Shrapnels were big. It was rock star glitz and glamour. Now it’s just grit.

Author Bio:

During her teens, Deirdre Riordan Hall traveled throughout the United States and Europe, developing a love for stories and a desire to connect with worlds—imagined or real—on the page. She has written Sugar, To the Sea, Surfaced, and the Follow Your Bliss series. When not spending time with her family, writing, or traveling, Hall is at the beach, pretending to be a mermaid.

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Book Blitz + Giveaway: Asleep

To celebrate the release of the spine-chilling YA psychological thriller ASLEEP by Krystal Wade, we have a full blog tour and exciting giveaways ahead! ASLEEP is the debut novel from Blaze Publishing, and answers the question of what happens when Sleeping Beauty meets Freddy Krueger. If you want to see more of ASLEEP, you can still find the Ten Weeks of Teasers and other great content on the Blaze Publishing blog. Order your copy now!

Asleep

Krystal Wade

Published by: Blaze Publishing

Publication date: February 16th 2016

Genres: Horror, Young Adult

“To cure fear, you must use fear.”

Rose Briar claims no responsibility for the act that led to her imprisonment in an asylum. She wants to escape, until terrifying nightmares make her question her sanity and reach out to her doctor. He’s understanding and caring in ways her parents never have been, but as her walls tumble down and Rose admits fault, a fellow patient warns her to stop the medications. Phillip believes the doctor is evil and they’ll never make it out of the facility alive. Trusting him might be just the thing to save her. Or it might prove the asylum is exactly where she needs to be.

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Follow the Blog Tour!

Tuesday 2/16	Wednesday 2/17	Thursday 2/18
Vicki Leigh:First Chapter Reading	Jordan Elizabeth: First Chapter Reading	Eve Langell: First Chapter Reading
Case Maynard: Promo Post	What A Nerd Girl Says: Interview	A Thousand Books: Teaser One
Friday 2/19	Saturday 2/20	Sunday 2/21
OriginiquEquanimity: Promo Post	Janelle Howard: Teaser Two	Archaeolibrarian: Teaser Three
Ryan Hill: Interview		Nerd Girl Official: Promo Post
		Tesairie’s Book Reads: Promo Post

Chapter 1 read by author:

Author Bio:

Krystal Wade can be found in the sluglines outside Washington D.C. every morning,Monday through Friday. With coffee in hand, iPod plugged in, and strangers-who sometimes snore, smell, or have incredibly bad gas-sitting next to her, she zones out and thinks of fantastical worlds for you and me to read. How else can she cope with a fifty mile commute?

Good thing she has her husband and three kids to go home to. They keep her sane.

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Book Blitz + Giveaway: Abandoned

Abandoned 

Elisa Dane

Published by: Swoon Romance

Publication date: February 15th 2016

Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

My name is Tierra Owens, and I like to kiss. A lot. It numbs the hollow ache in my chest and—for a few minutes—makes me forget how truly alone I am. My mother is an alcoholic. She hates me and insists I’m the reason she’s not married to my father, whom I have never met. My best friend, Kaylee, is the only person who knows the real me. Everyone else sees what I want them to: a happy, confident, popular girl who has the world at her feet.

I am a fraud.

Relationships are forbidden. I avoid them at all costs. Sex? Emotions? Those things make a person vulnerable, and vulnerability always leads to heartbreak. When my childhood crush, Mattie shows up at school my world tumbles off its axis. The shell I surround myself with feels more like a pathetic crutch than a protective barrier, and I find myself wanting things. Daydreaming about what it would be like to have a boyfriend, a relationship—love.

The sad fact is: I’ll never have any of those things. I am unworthy—trash. Which is why my mom abandoned me.

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READ CHAPTER ONE:

Kissing: You’re either good at it, or you suck. Zachary Harris sucked at kissing. Actually, it wasn’t so much that he sucked. It was more like he slobbered. All over my chin. My neck. My ears. My skin felt like flypaper—sticky and gross.

Then, of course, there was the issue of the very prominent bulge grinding furiously against my hip. With a groan, Dirk Diggler in disguise muttered a low “fuck” and licked a gooey trail across my collarbone. “God, you smell good. I want to lick you all over and make you scream.” Captain Slobber was, indeed, on a fast track to making me scream,but not in the way he intended. I didn’t care how popular he was—if I had to endure another second of his gross, reptilian tongue slithering over my flesh I’d vomit. All over him. It was a damn good thing kissing can be taught. This guy needed a crash course, stat.

Calloused fingers trailed a back-and-forth pattern between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans. My skin tingled from the soft caress and I dug my fingers into his hair, desperate to feel close, needing the contact, and ashamed of myself for getting it this way. When his fingers began fiddling with the button on my jeans, I shut him down.

“That right there is a no-parking zone, baby.” I slid my hand from his arm to his shoulder and shoved. “You need to slow down.”

A pair of dark eyebrows slashed over a set of brilliant blue eyes, the skin between them creasing in confusion. “Slow down? But we were just getting started.” He sat back on his hip, his gaze falling to my bed, then to my half-unbuttoned shirt. The right side of his mouth curled up into a wolfish grin. “I thought this was what you wanted. I mean … you did bring me into your bedroom. I thought you were hot for some action.”

Heat prickled across my skin like wildfire. I was hot, all right. Just not for him. The sooner he realized that, the better.

No guy got past second base with me. Ever. The stupid craving I had to feel close toanother person was just that: stupid. Sex, emotions … They make you vulnerable. And vulnerable got you hurt.

I ran my fingers over the small pearl that hung from the gold chain around my neck, the tiny bead smooth and cool against my skin. I’d been foolish enough to love someone once, and the devastation I felt when he walked out of my life was more than Icould bear. I wasn’t about to share that with Zach.

Kissing, though, I liked. A lot. It curbed the lonely ache I carried in my chest and took away the sting. And if the guy was cute, well … I might be persuaded, on occasion,to allow a bit of groping, here and there. But that’s where the fun ended. I might be the daughter of the town slut, but I was no whore.

I scooted back against my headboard with a sigh and grabbed a nearby throw pillow, hugging it tight. What I really needed was a towel to wipe the Saliva King’s spit from my neck and chest. Mopping up with a decorative pillow was less than efficient, and more than a little gross. In fact, there was a good chance I’d end up throwing the thing away when all was said and done.

“Look,” I said, trying my best to be inconspicuous as I blotted my skin with the fluffy, pink square. “I’m gonna give you the same speech I share with all my guy friends. I—”

Zach held his hands up. “Hold on a sec.” He flashed me an impish grin. “Let me just get … comfortable.” Smooth skin stretched over taut muscle, the deep grooves in his arms bunching as he pulled himself to the far side of the bed, resting his back against the wall.

I bit down on the inside of my lip as I watched him settle in and found myself wishinghe didn’t kiss like a St. Bernard. With his sandy blond hair, sapphire eyes, and bonestructure that reminded me of Channing Tatum, he was impossibly easy on the eyes and the true definition of what my mother referred to as “man candy.”

Sitting casually with his arm resting on one bent knee, he raised a brow and signaled for me to continue. Amusement flickered behind his eyes.

Jackass.

I found his attitude both ballsy and irritating. Half of me applauded his confidence. The other half wanted to jam my foot against the giant tent decorating the front of his pants.

“I don’t do relationships, and I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Graduation is just around the corner and I don’t plan on sticking around after. So, if you wanna hang out every once in a while and mess around a little, I’m your girl. If you’re looking for something serious, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I won’t chase you around and beg you to spend time with me, and I won’t have sex with you.”

Zach’s eyes flashed wide, and I could see the wheels turning inside his head as he mentally worked through what I told him. “So, no actual sex?”

I shook my head.

“But you’ll let me kiss you and stuff, and you won’t follow me around at school the next day and expect me to pay attention to you?”

I plastered a fake smile across my face and nodded. Clearly, Zach was all brawn and no brain. Somewhere, out in the farthest corner of nowhere, a village was missing its idiot. “Way to go, Einstein. You catch on fast.”

He swiped a thumb across his lips and sucked in a slow breath through his nose. “Isthis the same arrangement you had with Tommy Silva?”

My reaction happened so quickly I was fairly positive he didn’t notice, but at the mention of Tommy’s name, I stiffened. Douche Nozzle.

Much like Zach, Tommy was a pretty boy. Captain of the varsity swim team, he was tall, lean, cut like a statue, and manscaped to within an inch of his life. Smooth. The boywas smooth as a baby’s butt, and I harbored an almost sick fascination with his tan, satiny skin. We hung out off and on for a good four months until he decided what I had to offer wasn’t enough. He tried, and might I add, failed, to put his hands down my pants. I, on the other hand, did not fail when I took a swing at him. My righteous fist met his chiseled nose with uncanny accuracy, resulting in a loud crack, loss of blood (on his part), and a string of curse words, half of which I’d never heard before.

I told Tommy to get lost.

Tommy told everyone I chromed his dome.

Asswipe.

Lips pursed, I raised a brow. “Tommy wanted more than I was willing to give, so I ended it with him.”

Zach barked out a single laugh and shook his head. “According to Tommy, you were very willing, and you gave a lot.” He lifted his hand from his knee and thrust a finger at me. “He said he dumped you.”

It was clear Zach was trying to get a reaction out of me. He’d failed miserably. I didn’t play into the normal teenage “He said this about you, what are you gonna doabout it?” bullshit. Mostly because I just didn’t care. I valued one person’s opinion: my best friend, Kaylee. Everyone else could suck it, as far as I was concerned.

Come June, Kaylee and I were gone. Valencia Hills and everyone in it—including my mother—would be nothing but a distant memory.

“Believe what you want,” I said with a shrug. “If you want to hang with me, you knowthe rules. If you want to stay, great.” I tossed aside the pillow and started doing up the buttons on my chambray top. “If not, you know the way out.”

Zach shot forward and grabbed hold of my wrist. “I want.” He paused for a brief moment, then grinned up at me like he knew something I didn’t. “I’ll get you to want more too. Just you wait and see.”

My lips curled up into a smile. Boys were so predictable. I’d yet to have one turn down my offer. Captain Saliva and I would hang out until he asked for more than I wouldgive, and then we would be over. Assuming, that is, that I was able to do something about his drool problem. As far as me wanting more from him? Nope. Wasn’t gonna happen.

I leaned forward, fully intent on schooling him in the fine art of tongue kissing when the slow, rumbling whir of the garage door opening caught my attention. “Dammit.” Heart pounding, I shot to my feet, grabbed hold of Zach’s wrist and yanked. “My mom’s home early. You have to leave. Like, now.”

Zach stared at me like I’d sprouted another head and frowned. “What’s the big deal, Tierra? It’s not like we were doing anything. We’re fully fucking clothed.” He rolled his broad shoulders and tugged at the hem of his black T-shirt. “We’re cool.” He waggled his eyebrows. “All parents love me.”

Whether there was any truth to that statement or not, I didn’t care. Being caught alone in my bedroom with Zach wasn’t the problem. My mother didn’t give two craps about what I did, or who I did it with. No. I didn’t want Zach to meet my mother.

Desperate to get him gone, I tugged him over to my window, got behind him, and pushed. “Out!”

Zach’s expression morphed from one of surprise to outright irritation. “You have got to be kidding me. You want me to take a dive out your window?”

I shoved past him, released the lock, and slid the aging glass pane sideways. “Damn straight, Skippy. It’s time to channel your inner Olympian. Tuck and roll.”

My mom’s voice sounded from the other side of the house. “I’m not going to change my mind. We’re through!”

My shoulders fell. Crap. Another break-up. Zach needed to leave. Things were about to get ugly, and there was no way in hell I’d let anyone witness the shameful reality that was my home life. My mother hated me, blamed me for her so-called crappy life, and made it a point to tell me what a burden I was every stinking day.

I could deal with her hatred. No one but me knew about it. But her addiction to booze and sleazy men? That wasn’t so easy to hide. I’d worked hard to shroud the truthabout my home life over the past few years, and I wasn’t about to let my saliva challenged friend jack things up by hanging around for my mother’s latest breakdown.

Zach continued to gape at me, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. My earlier assessment of village idiot was apparently spot on.

“Why are you just standing there?” I placed one hand on the middle of his back, grabbed the waistband of his jeans with the other, and shoved him toward the window. “Move!”

“Fucking hell! All right,” he snapped before launching himself through the small space. A loud rustling noise echoed from outside, followed by a labored groan and a few choice curses. “Goddamned bushes!” He shot up, face twisted in a combination of pain and irritation, and pegged me with a hard stare. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful, T.” He jabbed a finger toward the ground. “Cuz this shit hurts!”

The sound of glass breaking echoed from the opposite side of the house.

I placed a shaky hand on the wall near the window and swiped the other across the front of my jeans, thankful my anxiety transferred to my hands and not my forehead. The old saying “Never let them see you sweat” had become somewhat of a mantra for me. On the inside, I was terrified, mostly of what might be happening on the opposite side of my bedroom door. Of people finding out the mask I’d presented to them was a total sham.

But on the outside?

On the outside, I was the smiling picture of cool perfection.

In keeping with my charade, I rolled my eyes at Zach and thrust a hand toward the street. “Leave! Before we’re caught!”

Zach gave a nod and held up his hand. “You’ll meet me at Dallas’s later?”

Crash!

My pulse skyrocketed as the commotion grew closer to my bedroom door. “Yes! I’ll see you in a little bit. Now go!”

The combination of moonlight and the yellow glow floating between the houses fromthe street lamp a few yards away cast an eerie glow across Zach’s toothy grin, likening him to the Joker. He pressed two fingers to his lips and took off with a spring in his step that told me I had, at the very least, a couple month’s worth of meaningless make-out sessions with him before he’d screw up.

Crash!

Thud!

“Angelo! S-stop … Please!”

Molars grinding together, heart ping-ponging against my ribs, I turned away from thewindow, crouched down beside my bed, and pulled out my own makeshift version of Professor Plum’s lead pipe.

The dented, secondhand metal bat felt cool against my skin as I stalked toward my bedroom door, frightened, yet resolute in kicking some loser’s ass had the slimeball hurtmy mom. The woman might hate my guts, but dammit, she was my mom, and I wouldn’tabandon her in her time of need.

Oh yeah. Tierra Elizabeth Owens was totally going to down her mom’s ex-boyfriend,in the living room, with the lead pipe. Take that, Colonel Mustard.

Author Bio:

ELISA DANE is a self-proclaimed book junkie. A lover of handbags, chocolate, and reality television, she's a proud mother to three All- Star cheerleaders. Writing is her absolute passion, and it's her mission to create stories that will not only take you on a romantic journey that will warm your heart, but help you find a new respect and interest in the sport of All-Star cheerleading.

Elisa is no stranger to the publishing world. She writes steamy paranormal romance under her real name, Lisa Sanchez. Her adult works include the Hanford Park series (Eve Of Samhain, Pleasures Untold, and Faythe Reclaimed), Obsessed (an erotic suspense), and a paranormal novella, Cursing Athena. Elisa lives in Northern California with her husband, three daughters, and a feisty Chihuahua who stubbornly believes she's human.

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Book Blitz + Giveaway: In The After

In the After 

Elisa Dane

Published by: Swoon Romance

Publication date: February 2nd 2016

Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Sadie Reynolds is a liar with secrets. At school, she’s part of the popular crowd known as AE, despite being broken inside. She hides it well. She has to. The slightest bit of imperfection will land her in the same shoes as her Geeky neighbor named Ian.

Ian and his only friend are the object of Sadie’s friends’ ridicule, ire, and entertainment. The AE rule the school with intimidation and retribution against anyone who would dare question their supremacy.

Sadie steers clear of most of it, terrified someone will find out her secret. She isn’t the least bit perfect. In fact, she suffers from PTSD stemming from the murder of her mother right before her eyes when she was a child. She can barely cope from day-to-day, hiding her truth and trying to fit in. But she knows it’s only a matter of time.

Hayden is a “Waverly,” a kid with the misfortune of living in the small farming town of Waverly that borders the very affluent Lexington Parrish. The AE doesn’t mix with “Waverlies.” Ever.

Desperate to get away from her oppressive friends, Sadie crashes into Hayden at a bonfire and the attraction that sparks between them is nothing short of electric. But Hayden’s an outsider and when things heat up, Sadie will be forced to choose between her friends and her new boyfriend.

Only Queen Bee Britt isn’t having it. She will not allow Sadie to cross her. Sadie caneither do what Britt wants her to do or she will reveal Sadie for the PTSD freak that she is.

Sadie does some soul searching about who she is and who she wants to be. She can’t live her life like this. Not any more. One fateful night will help her see how much things have to change.

She’s determined to no longer allow the AE to rule her life. She will be strong, stand up for Ian and love who she wants in Hayden. Determined and invigorated, Sadie goes to school feeling hopeful for the first time in forever.

But, the unthinkable happens.

Shooters attack dozens of students before the two eventually take their own lives, leaving the school a decimated shadow of what it once was.

Suddenly who lives where, wears what or loves whom seems like the least of Lexington Parish’s problems as everyone and everything changes forever in the after.

IN THE AFTER by Elisa Dane is a hard-hitting and heart-warming story of tragedy, love, loss and redemption. It is recommended for readers 14+.

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EXCERPT:

“No! Stop it! Don’t hurt her. Mom! Mommy!”

I thrashed awake, my throat on fire, my skin cold and soaked with sweat along with my pajamas and sheets. That damn, fucking night. That final image of my mom bleeding out across our hardwood floor before the monster tied me up and locked me inthe closet—it wouldn’t disappear. Burned into every deep, dark crevice of my mind, it haunted me daily, and replayed itself on an endless loop every night while I slept.

The three night lights dousing my room with a soft, warm glow, failed to provide the sense of safety and comfort they normally did and I hugged my blanket to my chest in a vain attempt to chase the chill away. My room wasn’t cold. The chill lay deep inside me in the place the darkness had taken up residence. Dying of thirst, I reached for the glassof water sitting on my nightstand.

“Sadie!”

My body seized, my arms flew up with a scream, and water rained down over everything within a five-foot radius as the glass tumbled through the air. It shattered upon impact with the wood floor. Mocha went crazy. The fur at the nape of her neck standing on end as she paced back and forth at the end of my bed, growling and barking.

Barely able to control my limbs they were shaking so badly, I floundered around for my cell phone, which had gotten lost somewhere between my sheets.

“Sadie! Let me in.” The window shook each time the attacker rammed his fist against the glass and panic spiked, a high-pitched wail blowing past my lips as I ripped apart my bedding.

I found my phone buried beneath the blanket near my feet. Dizzy and hyperventilating, I fumbled with it, repeatedly stabbing the touchscreen in a vain attemptto unlock the damn thing.

“Come on! Come on, you stupid thing.” My heart felt like it was in my throat and my chest felt like it was going to explode any minute.

“Ginger! It’s me, Hayden.”

It felt like I’d been trapped under water and was finally able to surface and take a deep breath. The thick haze of fear slowly dissipated, the fog inside my head clearing enough for me to recognize his voice. “H-Hayden?”

Hot tears trickled down my cheeks as I stumbled out of bed and made my way over to my window. I grappled with the extra locks my dad had installed when we first moved in, unable to contain the loud sob that blew past my lips when the window finally slid open.

Hayden was in my room with his arms around me before I had a chance to draw breath. “I heard you screaming and I got scared.” His body stiffened and he pulled away, his gaze scanning the room. “Did you hear something? Is that why you were screaming?” He took a step toward my bedroom door, stopping when I caught his wrist.

“It’s okay, Hayden. No one’s here. I had a nightmare.”

He stared down at me with narrowed eyes, then closed the gap between us, drawing me into his arms again. His arms felt warm and strong, the space at the center of his chest where I laid my head as though it was made for me and me alone. As if on autopilot, his hand found its favorite spot on the side of my neck, his touch both soothing and electric as he peered down at me with concern. “Nightmare? You were screaming like someone was trying to murder you.”

I flinched.

His eyes grew wide for a millisecond, realization and understanding warring for dominance behind his eyes. Thankfully, the gentleness I craved in his deep blues returned as quickly as it had left. He swept me off my feet without warning and carefully placed me on my bed, sliding between the sheets right along beside me. I rolled onto my side, my body shuddering in relief when he pulled me against him and wrapped his arm around me. “Sleep, princess. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Safe. It was such a small word with such a big meaning. Lives either flourished or fell apart in search of it. I’d known the warmth of safety. Taken it for granted. Wasted thewarmth and comfort that came with it like a spoiled child. I also knew the festering terrorthat came with the absence of safety. I walked in its darkness. Choked and smothered beneath it nightly. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever believe I would truly feel safe again. But, for reasons I couldn’t explain, that’s exactly how I felt in Hayden’s arms. Completely safe.

And so very tired. Too tired to care about my dad’s warning about talking to Hayden and letting him in the house. My lids grew heavy and I was asleep within moments.

Author Bio:

ELISA DANE is a self-proclaimed book junkie. A lover of handbags, chocolate, and reality television, she's a proud mother to three All- Star cheerleaders. Writing is her absolute passion, and it's her mission to create stories that will not only take you on a romantic journey that will warm your heart, but help you find a new respect and interest in the sport of All-Star cheerleading.

Elisa is no stranger to the publishing world. She writes steamy paranormal romance under her real name, Lisa Sanchez. Her adult works include the Hanford Park series (Eve Of Samhain, Pleasures Untold, and Faythe Reclaimed), Obsessed (an erotic suspense), and a paranormal novella, Cursing Athena. Elisa lives in Northern California with her husband, three daughters, and a feisty Chihuahua who stubbornly believes she's human.

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Book Blitz: Banished {Giveaway}

Banished 

Kimberley Griffiths Little

(Forbidden #2)

Published by: HarperCollins

Publication date:February 2nd 2016

Genres: Historical, Romance, Young Adult

She thought she’d lost everything . . .

After spending months traveling the harsh, unforgiving Mesopotamian desert, Jayden reunites with a broken, injured Kadesh. Although everyone was convinced the violent and unpredictable Horeb, Jayden’s betrothed, killed the handsome prince, Jayden knew in her heart that her love was alive and safe. But their reunion is short-lived, as they learn Horeb is on their trail and determined to take back the girl he has claimed. Soon, the two star-crossed lovers are on the run toward Sariba, Kadesh’s homeland, where, as heir to the Kingdom, he plans to make Jayden his princess.

But the trek to Sariba is fraught with heartache and danger. After narrowly escaping being stoned to death for a crime she didn’t commit, and learning that her sister has disappeared, Jayden’s only solace is her love for Kadesh. But even he is keeping secrets from her . . . secrets that will change everything.

This gorgeous and enchanting sequel to Forbidden, is full of love, danger, and heated passion that will leave readers breathless.

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Sequel to:

—

Booklist Review:“This sequel to Forbidden (2014) picks up with desert girl Jayden, distraught that the young man she loves, Kadesh, might have died. But, of course, he hasn’t. Scarred and missing an eye, yes, but he’s escaped the clutches of Horeb, Jayden’s malicious betrothed. Traveling bravely through the desert, Jayden finds him. But that perilous trip is only the first of the dangers to come. Gathering an army, Kadesh is determined to return to his faraway home, where the valuable frankincense grows, and introduce Jayden as his future bride. First, however, they must face betrayal, danger, and a waiting evil. Jayden achieves almost superhero status here, moving from adventure to adventure—not even a near-death stoning can stop her. Little’s descriptions of the landscape are evocative in both desolation and in beauty. Just as good is her pacing, which gets the blood pumping for both charactersand readers. Far more than a bridge book, this will heighten anticipation for a no-doubt exciting conclusion.“

EXCERPT:

A dirty, callused hand slapped down over my mouth and the stale breath of a man hissed in my ear. “Don’t move or I’ll slit your pretty, little neck.”

I clawed at the stranger’s cloak, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy. A moment later, I realized my ankles were tied together. I couldn’t run, couldn’t even move. Shrieks gurgled in my throat as if I was drowning, his hand cutting off my air.

Only one day into my journey to find Kadesh and I was already dead.

The sharp tip of a blade pressed against my neck, and I whimpered.

“Give me the frankincense of the stranger we killed.” The man’s foul breath draggedacross my face. He was referring to Kadesh, the boy I loved, who’d been murdered by Horeb, the prince of my tribe.

With myself as a witness, I’d watched Horeb plunge his sword into Kadesh and thenorder his soldiers to drag his body off.

Shock flooded me when I realized who my attacker was. I wrenched his fingers away from my mouth and with a raw voice, said, “Gad? What are you doing lurking about the cliffs of Mari?”

This man was a childhood friend of Horeb’s and one of my own tribesmen. His bodypressed against mine, and I writhed in disgust.

There was only one reason Gad was in the foothills of Mari, far from the oasis of Tadmur where my tribe camped for the summer. He was a member of Horeb’s army.

Horeb, my betrothed. The man who’d attacked and scarred me. Blackmailed me for the murder of his father to hide the fact that he’d killed his own father so he could steal the tribal crown.

Author Bio:

When I was a kid I read a book a day, scribbled stories, and dreamed about having my very own book on the library shelf. I grew up in San Francisco, but now live in an adobe house on the banks of the Rio Grande with my husband and sons. I think I've drunk so much Land of Enchantment water that some of that ancient magic got into my blood and now spurts out my pencil--I mean ergonomic keyboard. I adore anything old and musty with a secret story to tell.

I'm the author of 10 award-winning middle-grade and Young Adult novels with Scholastic and Harpercollins and I make way too many cookies when I'm writing - and I've got the best book trailers in the universe - for reals! Check them out here: www.kimberleygriffithslittle.com. Please find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Youtube.

Awards: Southwest Book Award, Whitney Award for Best Youth Novel, Whitney Award Finalist and Association of Mormon Letters of Art Award, Bank Street College Best Books of 2011, 2013, and 2015, a Crystal Kite Finalist, and New Mexico Book Award Finalist.

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Book Blitz: Marked

Marked

Amy Saunders

(The Birthright, #2)

Publication date: January 31st 2016

Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult

Starting over for Rosamund Brandt is more complicated thanit sounds. Especially when the past keeps coming back to haunt her. As she and her mom and brother try to pick up the pieces in a new home, the universe seems determined to tear them apart even more as secrets multiply, and distrust grows.

While new threats and unknowns emerge, Rosamund struggles with her own inner battle. Her new powers are growing whether she wants them or not, and their origins and nature are sketchy at best. The more that’s revealed to her, the more uncertain she feels.

Choosing allies and facing new and old enemies alike may not be their biggest problems. Not if Rosamund’s worst fears come true. Could she be the one they should fear the most?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

Sequel to:

—

EXCERPT:

Xavier turned his back to me, disappearing among the students walking in all directions. I gulped down the lump in my throat, and headed toward my locker on autopilot. I walked straight down the middle of the hallway, students veering around me one way or the other. Each step was like the last, until gravel crunched beneath my boot.

I stopped walking and glanced down. Instead of tile, I saw charred black gravel. When I looked back up, I was standing in a virtual field of the stuff. There was nothing else around me except some hills the same color. The sky was gray and wind blew strands of my hair across my face. When I brushed the hair away, I saw something glint among the rocks near my feet.

I bent down, brushing the blackened dirt away, revealing something silver. I grazed the edge of it with my fingertips, then plunged my fingers into the gravel, pulling out the object. I stood again, my hand wrapped around it. When I glanced up, I was back in the hallway, students parting around me.

Another memory. Each one seemed to get more vivid and real.

But then I felt something cold in my hand.

I slowly unwrapped my fingers, and charcoaled dirt sifted between them onto the floor, leaving behind a 3-D silver serpentine object the size of my palm. My hand shook. That wasn’t just a memory. I’d physically done something. Or, more to the point, I’d gone somewhere. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t on Earth.

I covered the object in my hand again. I took a step forward, totally ready to skip class to go have a meltdown in the bathroom, when someone grabbed my arm, dragging me across the hall into an empty classroom. I wrenched away, facing the guy from detention–who didn’t exist in school records.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “Didn’t you grow up like this? I thought you’d knowbetter.”

Author Bio:

Amy is a sci-fi/mystery addict with a soft spot for humor and romance. She lives in Massachusetts, and loves to bake and watch movies. Learn more about Amy and her books at http://amysaundersauthor.com.

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The Prophecy of Shadows Book Blitz

The Prophecy of Shadows
Michelle Madow
(Elementals #1)
Published by: Dreamscape Publishing
Publication date: January 26th 2016
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

Filled with magic, thrilling adventure, and sweet romance, Elementals is the first in a new series that fans of Percy Jackson and The Secret Circle will love!
When Nicole Cassidy moves from sunny Georgia to gloomy New England, the last thing she expects is to learn that her homeroom is a cover for a secret coven of witches.Even more surprisingly … she’s apparently a witch herself. Despite doubts about her newfound abilities, Nicole is welcomed into this ancient circle of witches and is bedazzled by their powers–and, to her dismay, by Blake–the school’s notorious bad-boy.
Girls who get close to Blake wind up hurt. His girlfriend Danielle will do anything to keep them away, even if she must resort to using dark magic. But the chemistry between Blake and Nicole is undeniable, and despite wanting to protect Nicole from Danielle’s wrath, he finds it impossible to keep his distance.
When the Olympian Comet shoots through the sky for the first time in three thousand years, Nicole, Blake, Danielle, and two others in their homeroom are gifted with mysterious powers. But the comet has another effect–it opens the portal to the prison world that has contained the Titans for centuries. After an ancient monster escapes and attacks Nicole and Blake, it’s up to them and the others to follow the clues from a cryptic prophecy so that they can save their town … and possibly the world.

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“Elementals is going to blow your mind!”
-Crossroad Reviews,

★★★★★

“Five glittery stars for being such a compelling read!”
-Andrea Heltsley, Goodreads Reviewer

★★★★★

“A perfect mixture of magic and mythology. An entrancing story of trust, friendship and well naughty boys. WITCHES are not the only thing walking the earth!”
– BenjaminOfTomes, BookTuber

★★★★★

—

EXCERPT:

Everyone stared at me, and I looked to the front of the room, where a tall, lanky man in a tweed suit stood next to a blackboard covered with the morning announcements. His gray hair shined under the light, and his wrinkled skin andwarm smile reminded me more of a grandfather than a teacher.

He cleared his throat and rolled a piece of chalk in his palm. “You must be Nicole Cassidy,” he said.
“Yeah.” I nodded and looked around at the other students. There were about thirty of them, and there seemed to be an invisible line going down the middle of the room, dividing them in half. The students near the door wore jeans and sweatshirts, but the ones closer to the wall looked like they were dressed for a fashion show instead of school.
“It’s nice to meet you Nicole.” The teacher sounded sincere, like he was meeting a new friend instead of a student. “Welcome to our homeroom. I’m Mr. Faulkner, but please call me Darius.” He turned to the chalkboard, lifted his hand, and waved it from one side to the other. “You probably weren’t expecting everything to look so normal, but we have to be careful. As I’m sure you know, we can’t risk letting anyone else know what goes on in here.”
Then the board shimmered—like sunlight glimmering off the ocean—and the morning announcements changed into different letters right in front of my eyes.

Author Bio:
Michelle Madow grew up in Baltimore, graduated Rollins College in Orlando, and now lives in Boca Raton, Florida. She wrote her first book in her junior year of college, and has been writing novels since. Some of her favorite things are: reading, pizza, traveling, shopping, time travel, Broadway musicals, and spending time with friends andfamily. Michelle has toured across America to promote her books and to encourage highschool students to embrace reading and writing. Someday, she hopes to travel the world for a year on a cruise ship.
Visit Michelle online at www.michellemadow.com, and be sure to sign up for her newsletter and follow her on Amazon to get instant updates on her books!

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