Dariel's World

Hi. I'm Dariel Raye, an interracial/multi-cultural paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and psy/suspense author, and every day of this journey is a learning experience. I'm also a counselor, musician, and animal lover. My stories are about all-conquering love and romance, and I enjoy hosting other authors as well. Enter a world where werewolves, vampires, multi-shifters, vamp-like Nephilim, Vodouin Fey, and all things paranormal capture our hearts...

You might also like to visit my website.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Dariel's Bewitching Book Feature: "Worlds Apart Leah" by Andrea Baker

Worlds Apart-Leah
Andrea Baker

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Taylor Street Books

ISBN:   978-1480083684
ASIN:   B009P4C3GG

Number of pages: 173
Word Count: 60,000

Book Description:

Leah knows that her mother died in a car accident when Leah was small and that her father, who used to be the gentlest dad in the world, has become increasingly controlling and occasionally violent.

She also knows that her recurring dreams are telling her something more about how and why her mother died, and why her dad turned nasty, but they are becoming progressively more disturbing and confusing.

When Leah meets Ben, she is excited to have a friend she can confide in and have fun with, but is he what he seems?

The voice of Leah’s mother repeatedly tells her to rely on her instincts, but when Leah is run over in a freak accident and Ben’s family take over her welfare, are they protecting her or using her?

And why would anyone, good or evil, bother with an ordinary girl just about to go to university?
Short Excerpt:

Sitting here, breathing in the familiar smell of wild flowers and sheltering under the huge old tree, I still found it difficult to comprehend everything that had happened. The air smelt slightly damp as though a storm was coming and I gave an involuntary shudder. Even now, knowing the truth, the fear of those storms had not completely dissipated.  I leant my head back against the trunk, fitting nicely into the spot that I had occupied so many times before. Although I now knew I could do this at will, my stomach clenched with apprehension at what was to come. I knew that I would never want to revisit this period in my life again, I just needed to make sense of it this one final time. I just needed to be careful, to make sure I didn’t change anything that had happened, otherwise there would be consequences.

Opening my laptop, I returned to the messages I had sent my best friend, Jen. All I needed was a trigger, to place me in the right moment in time. As I started to read, I smiled, remembering the friendship and familiarity of that time before everything changed. Then I let myself start to float, drifting back, allowing myself to occupy my old body and thoughts, carefully and silently, avoiding anything that could bring the change to the attention of those around me.

Well, we’ve finally unpacked - or I should say that I have!  Dad’s been at work most of the time, though I guess that doesn’t surprise you. His behaviour is still off - I’d really hoped it would improve once we got away from the old house and the constant reminders. He’s been going on about my needing a new start again - but after that last row, I just daren’t argue with him anymore. His mood swings can be just so scary and the temper has definitely not improved - in fact if anything it is getting worse. So much for the fresh start he banged on about! How’s Aber? I am SO jealous. Bet the sun’s shining, isn’t it? Where’s your room - is it facing the sea, or the mountains? Still wish I could have come with you, like we’d always planned but I lost that argument the day Mom died …

Still Warwick should be ok. It’s got a good reputation and the course seemed just right, so need to keep my focus on that now, not worry about what could have been.  Anyhow, this place is ok really - even though it’s very old.  Kenilworth town itself is a bit old school but you should see the Castle. I love it up there. I can take my music and wander around for hours, or if the weather’s good I can just snuggle into a corner and read. No-one bothers me and it’s SO Goth - you’d love it. I looked it up on Google and apparently there are parts of it that date back as far
as Norman times and it also played quite an important role in some siege. Some of it has been rebuilt, turned into offices, tea rooms (with the blue rinses to match LOL), but I like the ruins best. There’s an old Abbey too at the other end of town but there’s not much of that left, with far too many kids playing in the park for me and it’s not like I’ve got anyone to play tennis with here.

The cottage itself apparently dates back to the 17th Century and has some connection to Walter Raleigh and the potatoes. It has three little corridors leading off to different, really odd shaped rooms - some people would hate it but I don’t and I know you won’t either. It’s easy to hide in the attic and pretend not to hear Dad. Can’t wait 'til November when you come to stay - I’m going to hold you to that promise! Has Freshers started there properly yet? I don’t start for a few more weeks but I feel physically sick when I think about it. I’m not looking forward to being the new girl but I guess we have that in common. At the moment though I’ve still got some time to myself - not that Dad likes THAT of course. I’m sure he thinks Greg will turn up out of the blue or something - as if! That boat sailed back in Clifford and I don’t ever want to see HIM again. Men are most definitely off the agenda and not just because of the promise Dad forced out of me. Wonder if that has something to do with these dreams I’m getting …

Can’t wait to hear all your news, don’t keep me waiting.


About the Author:

Andrea Baker has written stories and poems all her life, although most of them no longer exist.  After graduating from the University of Wales, Aberystwyth in Economics and Marketing, she convinced herself to stop making these stories up, believing it to be something a "grown-up" should not do.

Since then she has spent most of her career working on major programmes across both private and public sector.  Of all the ideas that continued to occur to her, Worlds Apart has been the most insistent, refusing to go away.

Andrea Baker lives and works in the beautiful English county of Warwickshire, with her husband and daughter.  Kenilworth, the base for her Worlds Apart Series, is just a few miles away from their home.

Twitter:  @RoseWall15

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Dariel's Book Talk Wednesday: Character Interview with Danita Minnis's Falcon

Falcon On Crimes of Passion

I’m a level-headed guy, always knew right from wrong. I’ve done both when necessary since the age of seventeen. You would think that kind of life would land a kid in trouble. Not me. Killing is one thing I do well. Getting in and getting out? I do that even better. 

I didn’t know trouble until a certain long-legged Brit came into my life and I became anything but the calm, systematic Falcon, the highest-paid assassin in seven countries. That’s when killing became a crime of passion. In my business that’s a death sentence. I need a cool head for what I do or I won’t be doing it much longer.

Unfortunately, il Dragone knows my weakness: Angel. They know her better than I do. About two hundred years better. They know me too and I find myself at a disadvantage.

They want Angel and will never stop coming for her. But how do you kill something that won’t stay dead, something that remembers from lifetime to lifetime? That’s my frustration and my fear for Angel.

Born to a witch who has lost her powers and a father whose ancestors have been hunting il Dragone for centuries, Angel had no idea what kind of enemies were waiting for her when she entered this world. But she’s got me now, and I won’t let them have her. Not this time. 

That’s why I live to exterminate il Dragone. I will find a way to make them stay dead. Even if it kills me.

Falcon’s Angel – blurb

Sleeping with the Enemy? Sometimes Love is the Best Revenge

A thief and an assassin. Lust at first sight.
Sounds ideal until all the lies between Falcon and Angel bring them dangerously close to the end of their lives.

Angelina wants to go unrecognized when she leaves her family’s Yorkshire estate to play in a symphony in Italy. When she starts running she has no idea just how much she is running from: a stolen Stradivarius, a birthright of mysterious powers and a past that got her killed over two hundred years ago. 

Falcon wants the Stradivarius in her possession, and goes undercover to track down a thief. But he is not the only killer in search of the violin.

il Dragone, a devil-worshiping cult, wants revenge for a past only they can remember.

Falcon’s Angel is a paranormal romance of love that ended in tragedy in eighteenth century France. That love is tested in a fight of good versus evil some two hundred years later. This time around Falcon and Angel have an opportunity to put a stop to the cycle of murder and mayhem, if only they can remember.

Danita Minnis Bio
If you asked Danita Minnis which is easier, writing songs or writing novels, she would say it was the former. Melodies and rhymes are second nature. What her characters want is another thing entirely. With her debut novel, Falcon’s Angel, she learned to listen to her spunky heroine and sinfully confident hero. They’re funny and in danger, and that’s just the way they want it. Lesson learned: don’t try to save them.
When she’s not writing, Danita exercises her lungs at her son’s soccer matches and their favorite theme park, because everyone knows it’s easier on the stomach to scream your way down a roller coaster.

Buy links

Find Danita here

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Dariel's Bewitching Book Stop: Interview with Nadia Scrieva

Nadia Scrieva Interview

1.     When did you know you wanted to be a writer? What were some of your first steps toward making your dream a reality?

I knew that I wanted to be a writer from a very young age. When I got my first computer at age ten (this was back when not everyone had a computer at home) I began to write fanfiction and post it online to gain feedback from readers and improve my skill.

2.     What 3 adjectives best describe you?

Stubborn, focused, impatient.

3.     How do your values show up in your writing? What do you want readers to take from your writing?

All of my writing shows the characters persevering and conquering impossible odds, along with physical and mental barriers. I like to hope it will inspire readers to be strong as well when faced with hard times.

4.     What do you look for in a good book?

Complete escape to an engaging world, with noble, interesting characters I can relate to or aspire to be more like!

5.     What are some things you know now about writing and being an author that you wish someone had told you at the very beginning?

That you will get fat if you remain completely stationary in one place while writing for a year, with your roommate shoveling food at you so that you “write faster.”

6.     What lifts your spirits when you’re discouraged?

I get discouraged quite often. I try to print out sweet messages from fans and use them as fuel to keep going. Or I talk to a few of my reader-friends and ask them over and over again: “Do you like my story? Do you really like my story?”

7.     What tips can you offer towards building and maintaining a strong support system as a writer?

Let go of the people who don’t support you, and cling fast to the people who do. They will come to you, and they will be amazing! I’ve met such wonderful people through my writing—people who love my work, and by extension already know who I am.

8.      Any recent epiphanies or unforgettable life experiences?

I flew down to Florida (I live in Canada) for the wedding of one of my readers. She used some of the lines I wrote for a wedding in one of my stories for her wedding vows! It brought tears to my eyes. =)

Monday, February 25, 2013

Dariel's Bewitching Book Stop: "Paramount" by Nadia Scrieva

Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak, Book 1
Nadia Scrieva
Genre: Fantasy/Romance       

ISBN: 1477618392

Number of pages: 375
Word Count: 98, 000

eBook is free on most websites  Amazon   BN   iTunes   Smashwords  Kobo

Book Description:

A goddess hell-bent on revenge...

Pax Burnson is the descendant of devas. She has vowed to live her life without practicing her powers, but recent events have overturned her entire existence. Thorn Kalgren has been the love of her life since she was fourteen -- he helped her to heal after the loss of her parents. As a close family friend, he is one of a select few who understand and share her unique heritage. His recent betrayal has released a violence within her that she cannot restrain.

While her first instinct is to escape and forget, her aimless road trip is interrupted by a childhood friend in need. An idea strikes Pax as she sees her own pain reflected in Thorn's sister, Amara Kalgren. She is suddenly filled with a new, all-consuming purpose: vengeance. She believes there is nothing else left.

Using ancient magick and enlisting Amara's help, Pax orchestrates a complex, drawn-out plan to deceive and emotionally destroy her former lover. The friendship and loyalty between the two girls becomes fortified and unshakable as they venture down a dark and twisted path together, encountering formidable roadblocks and demons.

It soon becomes clear to Pax that everything she has been led to believe about her powers and her past was shaped by blatant lies. When she discovers that Thorn's infidelity is closely linked with her mother's death, she is forced to make a life-altering decision...

About the Author:
Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.

Visit me tomorrow for Nadia's Interview!

Chapter 1: Defying the Laws

A feminine hand clad in a fingerless leather glove pulled a hard left on the steering wheel, maneuvering to avoid a car that had swerved into the way at the last second. The woman's face remained emotionless, but she felt anger rise up inside of her at the other driver’s reckless act. She raised her hand, palm facing forward and fingers spread apart as she breathed deeply.
“Oh, I could just…”
She could see the flow of heat emanating from her volcanic center, obliterating the other car and its driver in mere moments—and then, perhaps, continuing on to clear out the highway for the next few dozen miles. Her windshield began to crack. No. She abruptly stopped visualizing the gratifying havoc she could wreak if she released all the pent up power which hummed at her fingertips. The temptation was too great, and she immediately closed her fist and returned it to the steering wheel.
She grimaced, fighting to control her twitching fingers, and forcing them back down onto the Jeep’s steering wheel placidly. Regret coursed through her, and she acknowledged that she would need to replace her windshield again. A foul smell reached her nostrils, causing her forehead to crease. She glanced down at the bruised, tanned knuckles visible through little oval holes in her worn gloves. Smoke was drifting up from between her fingers as her heated palms burned into the rubbery-plastic material of the steering wheel.  She felt sick at the stench.
Thorn. How could you?
The heart of her anger wasn't caused by reckless drivers. It was the lingering sting of betrayal. Startling her, a cell phone buzzed against her hip, and she fought the instant urge to crush it like a pesky insect. Was it him calling? She hadn’t answered her phone in weeks. Why would anyone still bother to call?
Thorn in my side, thorn in my brain.
The sections of the steering wheel she gripped had finally melted completely. Yet another part of the Jeep would need to be replaced. Luckily, her mechanic no longer asked questions. She removed her hands from the wheel and tried to wipe the sticky substance off her gloves. Giving up, she interlocked her fingers together before resting them in her lap. She continued steering with only her mind. She enjoyed driving with just her thoughts. She liked the idea that her body was flying through the air, and direction was controlled by her mere intent. It reminded her of what made her special: this inherited telekinetic ability. The ability she had promised her family never to use. The phone rang again.
The feminine posture of having her hands clasped demurely in her lap brought a sardonic smile to her face. The only thing which had ever been feminine about Pax was her long black hair. She had taken great pride in being able to sit on the lustrous mass, and had enjoyed the competitive factor of being able to say that hers was longer than that of any woman she knew, and almost all women she met. (In retrospect, tying her ego to the length of a physical extension of her body had not been completely feminine.) Even then, it had always hung in tangled, messy waves which she had hardly ever brushed.
It was only a month ago that she had shorn it all off. She still felt awkward when she turned to check her blind-spot and did not have a pound of tresses rolling over her shoulders comfortingly. She still felt like something was missing when the window of her Jeep was open, and the harsh wind did not whip unruly strands into her eyes. She felt naked without these little luxuries. Pax had not realized that her hair had been her security blanket—and once she did realize this, she had quickly introduced it to a pair of garden shears.
Pax wanted to stop depending on external substances for strength. She was sure that she could find a greater confidence inside her that had nothing to do with her hair, her car, or her lover.
She had depended far too much on him.
Her phone was still pulsating against her hip annoyingly. She did not want to look at the name on the caller ID, but her mind was already sliding the phone from its holster and lifting it to hover at her eye level. She glanced away from the road for a moment to warily read the letters. Amara Kalgren. It was only half of the name that she most feared seeing. It was the sister of the man who betrayed her.
She had no wish whatsoever to speak to the blond woman. It was a pity really, since she loved and respected Amara. The two had been very close when they were younger, and in recent years they had occasionally double-dated since Amara was also seeing a relative of hers. Pax felt a bittersweet smile tug her lips as she thought of her silly uncle Asher. Their families had grown up together, and the Kalgren kids had always been loyal friends. When families shared secrets such as theirs, they tended to stay together. Pax had not spoken to her favorite couple in far too long, because her uncle was exceedingly close to her ex-boyfriend. She could endure no reminders of what she had lost. Any contact with Amara or Asher would be chock-full of painful reminders and would inevitably lead to contact with exactly what she was trying to avoid.
Releasing her focus on the phone, she allowed it to fall against her thigh. She looked ahead at the highway, and cursed when she saw the sea of red brake-lights appearing. She willed the dial that controlled the volume of her speakers to turn up the music to the maximum. She closed her eyes and let the sound bombard her ears as she sat still in traffic. Pax did not really have anywhere to go, but driving endlessly along the highway made her feel like she was going somewhere. It made her feel like she was getting away, although she was quickly finding that the continent was not large enough to escape the older Kalgren sibling. She had been sleeping in her car and on uncomfortable motel beds as she tried to escape her disgrace, but her rest was littered with fitful nightmares while her waking hours were tormented with frequent involuntary memories.
A vibration against her thigh caused her to peer down. She scowled at her phone. Amara hardly ever called at all; this was an old signal from their youth. Double-calling. Twice in a minute was a true sign of emergency.  Pax jabbed her canines into her bottom lip, chewing as she considered taking the call. There might be a crisis. Something could have happened to her uncle Asher. She turned off the music telekinetically. Unlocking her hands and sliding her pinky finger tentatively across her thigh, Pax used the tip of her nail to press the green button.
“Yes?” she asked curtly. For a moment she was seized by an intense panic that it might be Thornton calling from his sister’s phone. She held her breath, reassuring herself that he would never stoop that low.  But then, there was precious little she knew about the depths to which he would stoop. 
A small voice on the other end whispered a usually-upsetting diminutive of her name. “Paxie…”
Pax slammed her skull back into the headrest and cursed. Although she had not been especially close to Amara in the past decade, she could recognize the helplessness and despair in her friend’s soft plea. They had been infants together, followed by childhood playmates. She knew Amara’s every emotion as though it were her own, and although she had no inkling of what happened, she instinctively knew that this must be the worst kind of disaster. Her heart leapt into her throat as she imagined the worst case scenario—had her foolish Uncle Asher somehow gotten himself killed?
“I’m on my way,” Pax said into the phone before hanging up. She glanced at her GPS to get a sense of her location, and cursed again. Her aimless, wandering circles had taken her three states away from Amara’s beachfront home. Three states and at least fifteen hours. An idea struck her: the Jeep was a mess anyway, so perhaps she could abandon it and travel with her mind.
Pulling over into a ditch, Pax took several deep breaths to concentrate.  She had only successfully done this a handful of times in her life—usually in emergencies when it was most necessary. This was an emergency, and surely she would be able to focus enough to move her body across the distance instantaneously. It was only one small body—she could lift much larger objects without any effort. She reached into her passenger seat and slipped her wrist under her purse before beginning.
Pax placed the palm of her right hand firmly against her solar plexus. She took a deep breath, visualizing her destination. She placed her left hand beside her right hand, forming the shape of a heart with her fingers. Her head begin to spin as her body begun dematerializing, starting at her core. For a moment, she was immaterial, and floating in nothingness.
A tickle of fear caused her to gasp, and she immediately found herself falling butt-first onto the hood of her Jeep.
“Shit! I suck at this,” she muttered, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her blunder. Grumbling, she rolled off the hood of her Jeep, wiping the dirt off her pants. Many insects had been slain with her speed in the past few days, and now their corpses were decorating her jeans. Pax swore repeatedly as she picked up her purse from the mud near the wheel of her car. She considered traveling by air, but there were too many people nearby. She climbed back into her Jeep, and slammed the door, upset with herself for her own inadequacy at using the technique which was supposed to be her birthright.
It was often her downfall that she tried to obtain everything she desired instantaneously.
Digging her key into the ignition, she jammed her foot on the gas pedal and began driving on the rough, potholed shoulder. She flew by the stopped cars on the highway, disregarding the dozen rules she was probably breaking. If she could not be successful in bending the laws of nature, then at the very least, she could satisfy herself in defying the laws of the road.

*                *                *

“Mara! Where are you? Is everything okay? Amara!”
Pax felt sick. It had taken ten hours, but she had driven directly to Amara’s waterfront home, stopping only once for gas. Seeing her friend’s Jaguar in the driveway, she had let herself in. Now, as she moved from room to room on the hunt for the blonde woman, she was growing alarmed. She considered calling, but it was faster just to lift the palm of her hand.
“Pilot me to thine light,” Pax chanted softly. The incantation was not necessary, but it helped her to focus. Soon enough, she found herself being subliminally led to her friend’s bedroom. Amara was still nowhere to be seen, so she continued to follow the guiding energy to the ensuite bathroom.
Upon touching the doorknob, Pax recoiled as the strong scent of her uncle overwhelmed her senses before the door was even fully open. Terror flooded her breast as she imagined Asher’s corpse sprawled out on the floor. Her gloved hand flew to cover her mouth before she had even seen a body. A déjà vu swept over her as she recalled finding her dead mother when she was just a teenager. The scent was familiar—it was not only Asher, but his blood.
Pax felt her heart skip a beat as it ached with love for her uncle. She expected to see him lying there dead, but she still moved into the room with determination. Asher was nowhere to be seen, but a small blonde woman was huddled in a corner of the shower stall. Amara was completely naked. Pax swallowed back her fear before she took in the surroundings. Amara’s fashionable clothes were strewn all over the floor, and there was dark blood which had dried as it had been dripping down the glass doors of the shower stall.
“Amara, are you hurt?” Pax immediately moved to comfort her friend, crawling into the shower stall and crouching beside her. Pax spotted Amara’s cell phone sitting in a pool of water nearby. It was amazing that the thing hadn’t short-circuited, but then again, it was Kalgren technology.
“Mara?” Pax asked in a soft voice, reaching out to brush her friend’s hair off her face. She was surprised to find that Amara’s hair was perfectly dry. Her skin was perfectly dry. There was hardly any water in the shower stall, except for a few small pools gathered at the bottom. It must have been hours since the shower was used.
“How long have you been like this? Amara! Talk to me!” said Pax firmly. Hearing no response she desperately sent her message directly into her friend’s mind. Has something happened to Ash? Please, please, Mara. Please tell me that my uncle is fine. I hardly have any family left. Is he…
Amara snapped out of her little daze and looked up at her friend. “Ash?” she asked dumbly. “He’s fine.”
“Thank Sakra,” Pax said, referring to the god of gods. She allowed herself to fall from her raised position on her ankles to a seated position on her bottom, ignoring the pools of water beneath her. She released a gush of air. “Is this your blood?”
The blonde woman stared forward for a moment silently.
Pax began to frown as her worry began to be replaced with anger. “Did Ash hurt you? Because if he…”
“No,” Amara responded softly. “When he touches me, he is always gentle. So tender. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Pax rolled her eyes at this description. Were they talking about the same man? Her annoyingly powerful uncle who had wrestled her toys away with his mind before she could even walk? “Maybe he wouldn’t,” Pax agreed, “but he certainly could. Did he?”
“Sure. He didn’t hurt you. That’s why you’ve been sitting naked in the corner of a blood-soaked shower stall for god-knows how many hours!”
Amara looked at her friend for the first time. “Oh, Paxie. Where’s all your beautiful hair?”
Pax was already reaching up to search for it before she remembered. She scowled. “Don’t call me that, Amara. We’re not five anymore. And don’t change the subject. What the hell happened?”
Amara’s eyes lowered again. “I did something bad.”
Glancing up at the bloody shower walls in confusion, Pax frowned. “What did you do?” She knew that Amara was not strong enough to harm her uncle, physically or psychically. She reached out to grasp the girl’s shoulder and give it a firm shake. “Mara. Hey, hey! What did you do?”
“I don’t know. He left me.”
“He what?” Pax repeated in shock. Asher and Amara were the most solid couple she knew. Every birthday and holiday, she and Thornton would always… she could not finish the thought. Her anger at her own lover was beginning to seep into thoughts of her uncle by extension.
Amara turned to Pax with wounded innocence in her clear blue eyes. “He said he just wanted to… have me one last time. Then he walked away.”
Pax felt comprehension dawn on her as she took in the state of the bathroom. “So… he fucked you and then he left you?”
The blonde woman was as still as death. “Do I deserve this? I don’t understand.”
Rage flushed Pax’s body with warmth as the anger blossomed inside her again. She clenched her fists. Even after all this, Amara refused to say a negative thing about Asher. She refused to condemn him for hurting her, and she chose to believe that it was somehow her fault. While Pax loved her uncle to pieces, she could not make sense of his actions. Asher often followed the wrong company (Thornton) and this has often influenced him negatively and gotten him into all kinds of trouble.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Pax reassured her friend. She reached out to rub her gloved hand over Amara’s naked back. “I’ll stay with you, okay? We’ll get through this together.”
Amara felt the familiar waves of heat radiating from Pax’s hand and lifting her hair. She felt a small smile touch her lips. She hadn’t realized that she had been so cold. The warmth of the dark haired woman’s angry energy surrounded Amara's skin like a comforting blanket. As her lips curled they cracked, revealing how dry they had become from the salty tears that had been running over them for so many hours.
“Thank you, Pax,” said Amara softly.
“What for?” she asked.
“For being here. I needed you.”
Pax felt guilt wash over her when she remembered that she had been ignoring Amara's phone calls. It’s partly my fault she’s like this. If I had been a better friend… Gah! I should have flown here instead of driving when my teleportation didn’t work. As she stared at the small blonde woman who was deathly pale, Pax began to form a vow in her mind. Uncle or not, she would not allow Asher to hurt her friend like this and get away scot-free. She would find a way to make sure that he was the one sitting on the floor and broken. She did not realize that she was fusing her own pain with Amara’s and transferring it to a different man. Asher will regret the day he did this to her. She’s the last person who deserved this. Amara is so sweet and loving—not bitter and vengeful like me. She was always so true and devoted. I’ll make Asher pay. I’ll hurt him so deeply, and so terribly that it will ruin his already ruined life. Damn you, Thorn! I mean Ash...
Pax saw a single tear run down Amara’s face and it snapped her out of her guilt and anger. She put her arms around the blonde woman and held her close, ignoring that she was naked. Amara leaned against Pax’s shoulder and let the tears fall freely.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Dariel's Feature: Cover Reveal - "Finding Hope" by Krystal Shannan

Cover Reveal
FINDING HOPE | Pool of Souls Book 2

Warning: The plot thickens with a passel of pissed off Olympians, but Ares and Aphrodite are in for a double dose of trouble! More Olympians join the mix in Finding Hope: Pool of Souls Book 2. A jewel addict, a kick-ass possibly-virgin huntress, and an insatiable ancient oracle are just a few. But don’t worry; Ares and Aphrodite are still front and center.

Addison Connelly has given up on men. She is disappointed yet again when her best friend tries to play matchmaker, and the match falls flat…or does it? Her friend knows all Addison needs is a chance, a little hope, and maybe a dropkick in the right direction. With an extra push from Aphrodite, will this lonely soul learn to trust again? Or will she run from the only man who could make her happy?

Adrian Colter, Nashville Police Detective and certifiable bachelor, puts his foot in his mouth in a big way when his roommate’s fiancé tries to match him up with her best friend. After making a horrible first impression, can he earn the trust of a woman who won’t speak a civil word to him? 

Adrian isn’t the only one trying to earn the trust of a beautiful woman. While Ares fights to rebuild the trust he lost thousands of years ago with the Goddess of Love, his parents do what they do best —show off their greed and selfishness. Will he find the hope and forgiveness he so desperate seeks or will his parents destroy his chance at happiness?

Krystal Shannan Love and Destiny in all Realms
Author of 
Chasing Sam: Vegas Mates Book 1 Amazon | Smashwords | & Others
Open House: Pool of Souls Book 1 Amazon | Smashwords | & Others
A Very Russian Christmas Amazon | Decadent | Smashwords | & Others
Finding Hope: Pool of Souls Book 2 - Coming Soon!

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Dariel's Features: "Hot & Wild" by Patricia Macias

Hot & Wild, De La Cruz Saga
P.T. Macias
Amazon Digital Services, Inc.

Blurb ~

The hot-blooded saga of the wealthy De La Cruz familia is centered on danger, intrigue, and romantic relationships of the explosively passionate nature.   
In Hot & Wild the familia’s Navy SEAL Christian Arturo De La Cruz lives for excitement. He loves it when the risk is great, dangerous, and complex. He enjoys the thrill of conquering the enemy when on a mission and the chicas when he’s on leave. Christian is a carefree bachelor relishing his life.
Monique Acosta is a young innocent bella chica. She captures the SEAL’s alma (soul) with her freshness and charm. She instantaneously turns Christian’s world upside down. She’s ignorant that her dream amor is a SEAL. Will Monique understand and accept his career.
Christians desperately searches the perfect moment to reveal that he’s a seal without losing her love. Suddenly an evil force enters his life and threatens his amor and familia? The Seal is hurled into dangerous warfare. He engages against the biggest menacing criminal ever. He fights against time and evil to save his amor (love) and familia. 
Everything breathless and romantic is magnified by author P. T. Macias into a fever of tactile writing, intense pacing, cohesion, and love.  

Excerpt ~

Christian is thinking of the report and his findings. He turns the corner and collides with Monique. All of his papers go flying all over the hallway. 
Christian responds quickly due to his fast reflexes and training. He’s able to react instantly to catch the hermosa chica before she falls onto the carpet. Incredible, thinks Christian stun. This chica is classy and bella. Oh dios mio, she smells delicious.
Christian is astonish and looks her over. Damn, look at who I ran into. It’s a bella hot chica and I have never seen her before. She has a beautiful heart shape face with huge hazel eyes that are fringed with incredible long eye lashes. His eyes travel from her eyes to her sweet soft full lips. He’s instantly tempted to touch her shiny golden brown hair.
She’s dressed in a nice black suit with real sexy high pumps. Yeah, look at her legs. She’s real hot. She almost reaches my shouldersOh yeah, look at her, she looks like she had an interview. I hope she gets the job, contemplates Christian with interest.
Monique runs right into Christian and she drops her portfolio and purse. What happened? Did I run into a wall? That hurt, ponders Monique. She tries to not fall down, she grabs onto Christian’s leather jacket.
Monique looks up into the most beautiful green eyes with long black lashes.  Dios mio, what a hunk, thinks Monique. I can feel all of his muscles. Wow he’s hard as rock, tall and muy sexy. Oh boy he looks like a bad boy, yeah.
Christian smiles at the bella chica showing off his beautiful dimples. His smile causes Monique to forget where she’s at. She’s unable to turn away. She remains in his embrace, gazing into his hermosos green eyes.
“Are you okay?” asks Christian, smiling. He looks her over to see if she’s hurt. She’s so incredibly hot. I can just taste her, ponders Christian with pleasure.
“Yes, thank you for keeping me from falling. With these high heels, it’s hard to keep your balance when you run into a mountain,” replies Monique with amazement. She continues to look him over.  Incredible, who would have known that such a bad boy would be here?

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To buy link   ~ http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008B0EYWQ   

Genre – Romantic suspense

Contact links ~

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