Thursday, August 31, 2017

Book Tour & #Giveaway for Love is Death by L.P. Masters

Welcome to my stop on the Book Tour, presented by Silver Dagger Book Tours, for Love is Death by L.P. Masters.  Please leave a comment or question for L.P. to let her know you stopped by.  You may enter her tour wide giveaway by filling out the Rafflecopter form below.  Good Luck! 

Love Is Death
by L.P. Masters
The Afterdeath, Book 1
Genre: YA Paranormal

Gina’s plan for her afterlife is simple: survive as long as possible. The afterlife is a ghost-kill-ghost kind of place. When she meets newly-dead Alec, she can’t help her desire to protect him. Before she knows it, she finds herself falling for him, despite the little voice in her head telling her it’s a bad idea. Alec’s goals don’t mesh well with Gina’s plans. Determined to save his living sister from a murderer, he’s willing to disobey the laws of a well-established cult in the afterlife. If the cult finds out, they’ll kill him. Again. He’s hesitant to accept Gina’s help and threaten her afterlife, but he’s guaranteed to fail without her. Together they embark on a perilous mission, but the most dangerous aspect of all is the threat of falling in love. Because in the afterlife... love is death.

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"Hey," I said softly. "What's going on?"

He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "Nothing."

He was lying. Something was bothering him, and that was dangerous.

I heard a rare sound: birdsong, but it was clear, not muffled, which meant it was a ghost. I searched for it. There!

"Look, quick." I pointed at the ghost of a black-capped chickadee a few feet away.

Alec smiled. The little bird twittered in its usual way and hopped across the grass, head turning in jerks like birds always do. It took wing, and I knew what that meant.

"Watch," I whispered.

In the middle of a flap the bird disappeared. Its water dropped and splashed on the grass, and for a moment the afterghost continued to fly, swooping and twisting in the air before it disappeared as well.

"What the…?" Alec looked shocked.

"Birds don't stay in the afterlife. Not for long."

"Why not?"

"Soul sickness. They get here, realize there is nothing like them around, and they get sick." I held my breath. "The same can happen to you if you're upset about something."

Alec looked me in the eyes. His stare was intense, as if he wanted to tell me something. Then he tore his gaze away. "I'll be fine, Gina."

I wanted to swear. He wouldn't be fine. I could see it. I could feel it. He was going to die again if he couldn't get himself out of that mood.

Born and raised in the rainy streets of the Seattle Area, L.P. Masters spent her fair share of time staring out rain-streaked windows and writing books. Masters has always had extremely vivid dreams, which often spark inspiration for her novels. In 1999, after one such dream, Masters began her first writing project. She has participated in National Novel Writer's Month every November since 2010. Writing isn't the only thing she can do with a pen in her hand, she also enjoys sketching and drawing—with varying degrees of success. Masters now lives in the slightly-less-dreary city of Spokane Washington with her husband and two wonderful daughters.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

Book Tour & #Giveaway for The Dragon in the Garden by Erika Gardner

Welcome to my stop on the Book Tour, presented by Silver Dagger Book Tours, for The Dragon in the Garden by Erika Gardner.  Please leave a comment or question for Erika to let her know you stopped by.  You may enter her tour wide giveaway by filling out the Rafflecopter form below.  Good Luck! 

The Dragon in the Garden
by Erika Gardner
The Watcher Rising Series, Book 1
Tirgearr Publishing
Genre: Epic Urban Fantasy

There is magic beneath the mundane and in The Dragon in the Garden, Siobhan Orsini witnesses it all. No lie can fool her, no glamour or illusion can cloud her Sight. She sees through them all and wishes she could close her eyes. Returning to face her past, Siobhan inherits her grandparents’ house in California’s wine country. She encounters a talking dragon, a hot fallen angel, a demon lord, a Valkyrie, and, oh yes, her ex-boyfriend. And that is just in the first twenty-four hours.

It’s time to find out why she has this power.

Siobhan seeks out the Oracle and learns that only her Sight can help mankind navigate the travails of an ancient war. Our world is the prize in a battle between the dragons, who would defend us, and Lucifer’s fallen angels, who seek to take the Earth for themselves. Using her gift, she will have to make a choice that will decide humanity’s future.

The memory has haunted me for years.

In the middle of a bright California summer, dark days came. My mother and grandparents spoke in hushed, serious voice, arguing about my absent father. Was it my fault he left? A soft whimper escaped my throat and my eyes burned. I needed a hug, but no one paid any attention to me that day.  So I ran away to the refuge of my grandparents’ garden where I could hide among its statues and flowers.

My eyes lingered over the familiar garden ornaments. I passed the old birdbath, the statues of gnomes, and a cheerful squirrel. I ran one hand over the stone deer. Its brown paint had faded from years under the sun. Walking with quick steps down the gravel path, I made my way to the center of the garden, my special spot where my favorite statue waited.

 A gnarled apricot tree grew there.  Right now it was covered with tiny green apricots. Later in the summer the sweet fruit I loved would ripen. I would get to pick them with my parents, no, just with my mother. My lip trembled. My father wouldn’t be here.

The bright-green dragon lay curled at the foot of the apricot tree, partially covered by vines. My mother called the color jade green—the same shade as my eyes. As a child she talked to all the statues, but I only spoke to the dragon. I named her Daisy. Sitting down next to her now, the tears welled up at last, spilling over my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around my legs, making myself into a little ball of five year old misery.

“Child, why are you sad?” said a woman’s voice.

“Who said that?” I asked, wiping my cheek.

 “I did.”

“Where are you?” I stood and peered at the plants and statues around me.

“Right here.”

“Are not,” I retorted.

A soft laugh filled the air and the woman spoke again. “Perhaps you are right. Easy enough to fix, I suppose.”

The breeze picked up. The space beneath the apricot tree shimmered. Ripples warped the air like the heat over the barbecue when my father cooked. The sweet notes of wind chimes filled the yard. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have any wind chimes. I whirled around to find the noise.

Under the branches appeared an enormous green dragon’s head.

Erika is a sixth generation San Franciscan of Irish descent. She attended the University of California at Davis and completed degrees in Medieval History and Biological Sciences. A lifelong lover of books and a scribbler of many tales from a young age (her first story was completed at age five) she turned to writing full-time in 2011.

On a personal level she loves spicy food, twilight, dark chocolate (with sea salt-yum!) and nickel slots at Vegas. Erika lives for time with friends, a nice glass of red wine, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” & “Doctor Who” and good conversation. Her favorite things to do are running, cooking, reading, needlework, gardening… and of course, writing. Erika's music of choice is heavy metal. To pick her out in a lineup you should know that she is very short, fairly loud, and has dark eyebrows. The rest, as her hero Anne McCaffrey once said in her bio, “is subject to change without notice”.

Erika resides in Northern California with her incredibly hot husband, their three amazing kids, and their chocolate Labrador named Selkie. To reach Erika regarding her books, wine recommendations, or to debate which Iron Maiden album is the best (clearly, it’s Brave New World)

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

Book Tour & #Giveaway for The Chronicles of Midway Series by Kevin Fleming

Welcome to my stop on the Book Tour, presented by Silver Dagger Book Tours, for The Chronicles of Midway Series by Kevin Fleming.  Please leave a comment or question for Kevin to let him know you stopped by.  You may enter his tour wide giveaway by filling out the Rafflecopter form below.  Good Luck!

The Storyteller's Book
by Kevin Fleming
The Chronicles of Midway Book 1
Genre: SciFi Fantasy

“ … you must realise and accept, neither me, your mum, nor either of you are human.”

Nick and Mel are 14 year old twins living normal lives with their parents. When they discover an ancient book in their attic and read from it, strange events begin to happen around them. Something has been awakened which prompts their parents to take them away to a town called Midway where they reveal to the twins that they are not human. They had been hidden on Earth, brought up as though they were human, awaiting the right moment for the truth to be told.

When their parents mysteriously disappear on their first night away, they are forced to discover for themselves what their roles are in the new lives they’ve been thrown into. They struggle alone as they try to understand and balance their past human lives with their alien destiny. When the book they discovered at their home is stolen, it falls on the twins to recover it. The book has a lot more power than they realised, and if they fail, it will not be they who suffer, but the whole human race.

Along the way, they meet an array of characters, some will become friends, some will become enemies, who can they trust? For now, they can trust only each other.

The Mines of Kothkish
The Chronicles of Midway, Book 2

When Sebastian, the brother of their friend Celeste is abducted by the rogue faction known as The Malum-Atra, twins Nicholas and Melandra Wigg are first in the queue to help the Shreen Angels in their quest to find and rescue the unfortunate victim.

As the situation escalates and the full extent of the danger to Midway and the whole human race is revealed, Nick and Mel face a race against time to locate where Sebastian is held.

Do the Mines of Kothkish with their glowing caverns of billions of precious stones hold the answer to the mystery of Sebastian’s location? What role does Elaine, the human girl with the unusual gifts have to do with finding the abducted Shreen Angel? And what is the secret that has been hidden in Little Meesden for two hundred years?

Find out as we meet friends and foe, old and new, as once again Nick and Mel fight for the survival of the human universe.

From facing evil snow creatures to diving into lakes of fire, share in the exciting adventures of Nick and Mel in the second of the Chronicles of Midway series, The Mines of Kothkish.

The Warlords of Shreen
The Chronicles of Midway, Book 3

Nicholas and Melandra Wigg have already met Hadad, the only warlord still at large, but now they are faced with a plot to release the other three warlords trapped within collectors.

When Nick and Mel enter the dream room, a story of great tragedy, loss and regret is revealed as they discover Malvern, once a colleague of Rufus, is behind the terror that is the Malum-Atra. Insane with fear and hatred of the human race, he is searching for a way to open the collectors, thus unleashing the warlords upon the world.

What does the secret of Meesden House and the tragic history of the old railway house have to do with preventing Malvern’s evil plans?

Join Nick and Mel in this story of redemption and second chances as they continue their quest to fulfil their destiny in The Warlords of Shreen, the third book of The Chronicles of Midway series.

Carnival of the Otherworld
The Chronicles of Midway, Book 4

Join Nicholas and Melandra Wigg in one more exciting adventure as they come up against Natasha Moon, Malvern’s evil accomplice, who together lead the Malum-Atra’s desperate final attempt to destroy the human universe.

How would the humans react if Midway was revealed to them?

How would Midway’s lethal automated defence system respond to an Earth attack?

Nick and Mel are faced with these frightening questions and even more horrifying answers as they do battle with sea spiders, Shreen demons and the ancient Defender of Midway.

What were the startling events of several years earlier that unknowingly affected the lives of many humans in Little Meesden? What was the tragedy that befell Celeste’s mother? Will Nick and Mel finally come face to face with their destiny?

Find out, as these and many more secrets are revealed in Carnival of the Otherworld, the final book of the series, The Chronicles of Midway.

Kevin Fleming was born and still lives in Liverpool. He worked for a large telecoms company for over twenty years before leaving to run his own business for a further fifteen years.

Having written short or incomplete stories on and off all his life, he believes now is the time to put his full commitment into writing more seriously. Since 2012, he has devoted his time to writing and has completed a four part sci/fi, fantasy series aimed at ages from 11 years old and upwards, called ‘The Chronicles of Midway’.

He is mainly interested in writing supernatural, science fiction and fantasy novels that would appeal to young and old alike. Currently he is working on another series that would combine all these genres.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

Book Tour & #Giveaway for Masked Possession by Alana Delacroix

Welcome to my stop on the Book Tour, presented by Silver Dagger Book Tours, for Masked Possession by Alana Delacroix.  Please leave a comment or question for Alana to let her know you stopped by.  You may enter her tour wide giveaway by filling out the Rafflecopter form below.  Good Luck!

by Alana Delacroix
The Masked Arcana, Book 1
Lyrical Press
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Pub Date: 8/8/2017

A Man Who Can Wear Any Face

Caro Yeats doesn’t run from much. As a former investigative reporter now working PR for Toronto’s supernaturals, what she hasn’t seen mostly isn’t worth seeing. But the assignment to “rebrand” Eric Kelton’s out-of-control alter egos has her on edge from the start. Kelton is the heirarch of the Masquerada, beings able to change their face—their entire persona—on a whim. Eric’s charisma muddles her instincts. How can she trust a man who can become anybody?

A Woman Without A Past

Eric has never met anyone like Caro, with her lightning wit and uncanny insight. But desirable as she is, he’d be a fool to let her near. Struggling to hide the sudden loss of his powers, Eric can’t risk becoming entangled with a woman who scorns her supernatural side and claims not to play politics. The enemies on her trail are strong, clever, and vicious. And when they force Eric and Caro together, the fallout could shatter far more than two hearts . . .

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Chapter 1

Caro Yeats entered the lobby cursing her new stilettos. Sure, they were sexy as hell and made her legs look a mile long but they were terrible  for, say, walking. It had been a mistake to wear them, but they’d sat at the back of her closet for weeks and she’d grabbed them in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness brought on by the perfect spring day.

Estelle, receptionist at Julien D’Aurant Public Relations, gave a low whistle as Caro strutted past her desk. The strutting wasn’t deliberate; it was impossible to walk any other way in the damn shoes. “What’s the occasion? Hot date tonight? It’s sure not for any of us here.”

“Not true,” Caro said. “I wore my mouthwatering baggy jeans and stained sweatshirt ensemble to impress you last week.”

Estelle winced. “Forgot about that. Anyway, you clean up nice. The boss will be impressed.”

Caro rolled her eyes. Julien D’Aurant was so stereotypically French that she suspected it had to be an act. “Why do you not dress plus comme une femme?” was a question she’d had to dodge on multiple occasions. Her usual wardrobe of jeans and ballet flats seemed to cause him real anguish.

“Speak of the devil,” Estelle muttered.

Julien strolled into the lobby, his crisp, pressed, blue button-down tucked into his perfectly creased gray dress pants. The caramel-brown belt was the exact shade of his casual summer loafers, which he naturally wore without socks. In his hand—Estelle had told Caro that he went for weekly manicures and she’d never been able to look at his buffed and shiny nails again—he held his phone, regarding it as warily as he would a snake coiled to strike.

He glanced up, then back at the phone. After a moment, his head flew up in such a comical double take that Estelle burst out laughing and Caro felt a bit insulted.

“Mon ange. This is what I mean by dressing like a woman.” He strode over and grasped Caro by the shoulders, giving her a lingering kiss on both cheeks before stepping back and looking her over in admiration. “Quelle différence. Dress like this every day. You must.” His expensive Hermès cologne wafted over her.

Although it was nice to have her efforts appreciated, Caro suddenly had the impression that her black pencil skirt was a little too tight and definitely too short. Time to deflect his attention. “Good morning, Julien. What were you frowning about?”

“Ah. Yes, that.” He waved the phone at her. “Emergency meeting in the boardroom in an hour. New client.”

“Who?” She didn’t particularly care, but knew enough to feign enthusiasm once in a while. Or at least interest.

The phone rang out with the opening bars of Nina Simone’s “I Put a Spell on You.” 

Instead of answering, Julien pointed a single, pampered finger at her before murmuring “Allô?” and breaking into rapid French.

Caro raised an eyebrow and looked over at Estelle, who shrugged and shook her short, black, Louise Brooks bob into place. Caro caught   a quick glimpse of Estelle’s wickedly pointed fangs. How the vampire avoided slicing up her own lip was something Caro always wondered but was afraid to ask. Friendly as she was, Estelle could bring on the predator when she wanted. She called it her resting-death bitch face and Caro had seen it reduce grown men to inarticulate lumps.

When Caro first started working at JDPR, she’d been surprised that   a vampire could be out during the day—Estelle was the first one she’d ever met. Estelle had laughed and said silly rumors made for amazing camouflage. “You can see us in mirrors and I put garlic in everything,” she had said. “We’re like humans. Except for being almost immortal and drinking blood. Minor differences.”

Now Estelle said, “It’s a masquerada. That’s all I know.” “Masquerada?”  A  fine  tension  weighed  down  Caro’s shoulders— her usual reaction to masquerada, the powerful shapeshifters who took on human forms.

“We don’t usually get many but why are you complaining? You were the one who pulled the ghoul client last month. This should be a cakewalk.” Caro could not deny the sewer-dwelling ghoul had been a nasty piece of work. The office had to be professionally cleaned after his visit to dispose of the residue he’d left behind, and the meeting room had both looked and smelled like a post-plague charnel house.

She shuddered and slowly teetered her way to her office, where she kicked off the shoes with a sigh of relief. Taking one poor foot in her hand, she gently rubbed the feeling back into her toes as she waited for her computer to boot up.

A light-brown ring showed where her coffee cup should be—and wasn’t. One of the misfortunes of working for a fey man was that items constantly went missing. Apparently minor theft was a fey thing. Last week Julien had pilfered her lipstick. When she first started, Caro had thought he did it as some sort of hazing prank, a test for how much the newbie could take. Now, many discussions with Estelle later, she realized that Julien often didn’t even notice his thieving.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d made the right decision by taking this job. 

The supernatural arcane world was one that she had avoided for years. Now she had deliberately placed herself in the direct heart of it. Inside the drawer of her minimalist white acrylic desk lay evidence of her past life—a battered envelope containing a single Washington Post newspaper clipping, the pages still crisp. Lynn Butler’s first A1, over-the- fold story was an exclusive scoop tracing criminal kingpin Franz Iverson to a string of illegal activities that reached right to the Mayor’s Office and even to the Senate.

Every time she looked at it, she felt a thrill that was immediately followed by deep aches in the year-old scars that traced pale, jagged paths along her abdomen, chest and back. The doctor had said the pain might never completely subside. It was a miracle she wasn’t dead from the attack, he’d added. “I don’t understand how you didn’t bleed out from those wounds. You’re one lucky woman.”

She rubbed her stomach with a shaking hand. The police had never caught the men who left her for dead and she didn’t expect them to. There was no need. She knew exactly who had ordered the hit.

Not even incarceration had limited Franz Iverson’s reach,  or  his need for revenge.

Those knife thrusts had ended her career in journalism and her life as Lynn Butler. When she finally got enough courage to walk back into the Post’s newsroom after her recovery, she barely managed to smile through her colleagues’ standing ovation before limping to the bathroom and collapsing in a shaking heap. The thought of writing another story made her hands shake uncontrollably and she had known, suddenly and without a doubt, that the life she loved as a reporter was done. 


That had been a year ago. The sea of multi-colored project folders that sat in neat layers on her desk made a knot twist in her stomach. Caro twirled her chair away to cast her eyes over the gray accent wall in her office. A single print hung there, a huge close-up of Banksy’s iconic protestor throwing his bouquet. Trendy and ironic, exactly the image that Julien worked hard to maintain in an industry where perception was everything. Caro rubbed her eyes. The job at JDPR was as far away from investigative reporting as she could get while still staying, however peripherally, in media. She’d left Washington in a panic to create a new life for herself in Toronto at JDPR. She was lucky the city was big enough to hide under a new name and new job, but with neighborhoods that gave her the homey feel she craved. It had turned out as best it could, but sometimes she regretted the move from hack to flack so much she felt numb.

Quit this, she told herself sternly. Enough. You’re alive, you’re working. Just because you’re not a reporter, it doesn’t mean it’s a bad life. It’s different. You chose different, remember? It’s what you wanted. It’s what you needed. JDPR was definitely not a typical PR agency. It represented only arcane clients. Humans who stumbled across it were given such an outlandish rate list and cold welcome from Estelle that they didn’t return. 

For the most part, the company dealt in the delicate art of keeping humans unaware of the fantastic beings who shared the world with them. Most arcana could either pass as human, pass as odd humans, or lived as isolated as possible from populated areas. Regardless, there were enough incidents to make for some interesting days. She was grateful for that busyness at least.

Caro tapped her fingers on the table. Julien had made it clear that she had gotten the job at JDPR because she was part masquerada, although a latent and an extraordinarily and determinedly ignorant one at that. Before her death, her mother had tried to train Caro in the basics of taking on a masque, but Caro had stubbornly opposed any arcane education. Nor was there anybody else to learn from, even if she changed her mind. 

Besides her mother, she’d never knowingly met another masquerada and she often wondered if this avoidance was as deliberate on their side as it was on hers. Her mother had made it crystal clear that being a half-blood was nothing to be proud about, so she wasn’t surprised if none of them wanted to make themselves known to a pariah. One of the things Caro did know about masquerada culture was that it was unusually hierarchical and status-driven, like some time-traveling medieval court.

Not that any of this mattered to Caro, who had always despised the fundamental trickiness of masquerada and had done her best to ignore that entire part of her heritage. Her mother had changed masques the same way other women changed clothes. As a child Caro would often kiss one woman good night and wake to an unfamiliar one in the morning. It was years before Caro even knew what her mother truly looked like and that was only because she had found an old photo in a shoebox.

“Oh, her?” Her mother had shrugged dismissively when Caro showed her the photo of the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who looked like Caro herself. “That’s my natural self. A bit of a wet blanket. I much prefer this one.” At the time she was a curvy platinum blonde with Asian eyes and features, and so stunning that people stopped on the street to watch her walk by.

“Can’t you at least look like this when you’re with me?” Caro had asked, shaking the photo. She’d been nine or ten. Her mother had glanced at Caro’s reflection in the mirror with an unreadable expression, mascara wand steady in her hand.

“Sorry, darling.”

That was the day Caro decided she would never take on a masque. She would never give in to that pathological need to be someone else—she was going to be good enough as she was.

However, Caro’s boo-hoo, sad-face childhood issues turned out to be an advantage in her new job. Although she’d rejected her arcane heritage, it meant JDPR’s clients would trust her, Julien had explained when he’d hired her. “You have an insider’s knowledge of the human world, without the taint of humanity,” he had said. “Our clients don’t trust humans. Et bien sûr, protecting our clients’ confidentiality and interests requires more layered complexity than it does for humans working with some vulgar reality star from Atlantic City.”

She had nodded, but wondered how on earth it was possible to keep decrepit ghouls and pale creatures with fangs hidden from the public eye. Julien had stressed that upholding the Law—the ancient agreement made by all arcana to stay secret from humanity—was their primary task, but surely at least one damning image would go viral. Then one did and Caro watched as it was ripped apart, ridiculed as fake, and sent to join the ranks of fringe theories about the Bermuda Triangle and the Illuminati. It wasn’t that hard to keep the arcane world a secret after all, Caro reflected. What normal person would admit to believing it?

Alana Delacroix lives in a little house filled with books in Toronto, Canada. She loves exploring the city, on the hunt for both the perfect coffeeshop as well as ideal locations to set her paranormal romances. A member of RWA, Alana worked as an archaeologist before forging a slightly more stable career in corporate communications. You can follow her at @AlanaDelacroix or learn more at

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts and a giveaway!