An Affair With Danger

 
Romantic Suspense
Date Published: January 8, 2016
 

Two minutes.

That’s all it takes for corporate lawyer Will McPherson to be held up in an armed robbery and for his life to change in ways he’d never dreamed of.

When Will goes to court to give evidence, he meets the perpetrator’s girlfriend Frankie Slater and is instantly smitten.  But feisty, straight-talking Frankie has her own problems, not least of which is her violent boyfriend Eddie.

When Eddie finds out about their liaison, it puts both their lives in danger, and their love becomes a matter of life or death.

Review

This is a Romantic Suspense and I loved both of those aspects of the story, but I was pleasantly surprised by the wit and humor as well. I thought it was a great addition to the story.

I liked the quick moving flow of the novel. Once it gets started, it doesnt let up.

Robin Storey is an indie author who lives on the picturesque Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia. Her three previous books are How Not To Commit Murder, Perfect Sex and Comedy Shorts. An Affair With Danger, a romantic suspense novella, is a departure from her usual comedy writing style, but the characters were creating a commotion in her head and refused to go away until she’d put them in a book.

Robin is a certified book nerd and also enjoys chilling out at the beach and hiking. She is preparing to undertake the Camino Frances pilgrimage in September this year – plenty of time for mulling over new plots. She is working on her next novel, a romantic comedy.

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The Creepshow

Women’s Fiction
Date Published: April 11, 2016
 
Wanda Julienne was the perfect employee. Until she had a baby. 
Wanda, a thirtysomething single mother, returns to her job at an international financial services firm after maternity leave and finds her world turned upside down. The colleague who filled in for her made disastrous errors that should have cost him his position. Instead, management pressures Wanda to repair the damage overnight and take on new assignments that are a sure recipe for failure. Add in a dose of sexual harassment and Wanda, who can’t afford to lose her job, feels trapped. 
Slowly, she discovers that other colleagues have experienced similar treatment, but no one wants to talk about it.
At home, the situation isn’t much brighter. Wanda struggles to balance her baby’s needs and her tough work schedule. Her best friend, Galina, and the ex-boyfriend Wanda never thought would return try their best to offer support, but the attention only suffocates her.   
Wanda turns her back and isolates herself, submerged in a downward spiral, until Galina suggests a way out—but the exit won’t be without drastic consequences.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Adria J. Cimino is the author of Amazon Best-Selling novel Paris, Rue des Martyrs and Close to Destiny, as well as The Creepshow and A Perfumer’s Secret (out in Spring 2016). She also co-founded boutique publishing house Velvet Morning Press. Prior to jumping into the publishing world full time, she spent more than a decade as a journalist at news organizations including The AP and Bloomberg News. Adria is a member of Tall Poppy Writers, which unites bright authors with smart readers. Adria writes about her real-life adventures at AdriaJCimino.com and on Twitter @Adria_in_Paris. She lives in Paris with her husband Didier and daughter Phèdre. When she isn’t writing, you can find Adria at her neighborhood café watching the world go by.
 
 
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Back in My Life

 
Romance / Erotica
Date Published: February 27, 2016
 
 

Back in my Life is a story set in the beautiful cities of New York and Chicago. This story is not the typical and simple “boy meets girl, boy and girl get marry story.” This story is a powerful story that shows how real and unselfish love truly looks like. The love between Ruby and Clyde is an amazing and genuine love that survived everything that came in between them—even the most painful experiences that destiny had planned for them.

During a college internship at a prestigious New York magazine, Ruby Sparks (a journalist graduate student from Chicago) meets Clyde Holt, (a fellow intern and a creative photography student from a London based college) whom from day one became Ruby’s obsession and the new reason for her existence. After developing strong feelings for her emotionally unavailable friend, Ruby finds herself trapped in a whirlpool of emotions while trying to earn her friend’s love. What Ruby doesn’t know is that while she is looking for true love, Clyde’s presence in her life came with a different purpose.


I have been writing for pleasure for the past couple of years, but this is the first time I do a book tour so I am very excited for it. Writing is my passion, and I enjoy using real-life stories as the basis for my novels, but giving them a little twist to make them more melodramatic and breath-taking. I am also the author of Pamela’s Confessions and Confesiones del Alma. I currently live in Florida with my husband and three children.

 

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When Lucifer Met Calamity

Contemporary Romance/Comedy
Date Published: April 18, 2016

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Lucifer – At eighteen months out of law school, six months on the job, and four weeks before his BAR exam, Luce has arrived. He’d been playing by other people’s rules all his life and now, poised on the brink of success, he will not let anyone stand in his way…especially not the junior-partner jerk at the office giving him and his assistant a hard time. On his way to give the creep a piece of his mind, he bumps into the infamous ‘Calamity Jones’…
Calamity – is tired of enduring her boss’s unwanted sexual innuendos.  When his fingers start to roam, Calam decides she’s had enough. It’s time to fight fire with fire.  So she devises an ingenious, if risky plan, to get Perkins off her back, keep her Job, and strike a blow for his numerous other victims around the office…only, things don’t go exactly as planned.
All Hell Breaks ‘Luce’ – After finding the loopy ingénue jack-knifed atop the archival files, Lucifer knows something is up. Calamity knows the jig is up. So, she comes clean. Turns out, they both have the same problem…Perkins. But, sparks fly when they decide to team up to bring down the boss. The Hitch? He’s a straight arrow…She’s a loose cannon. Can they work together to achieve a common goal?  Or will they both lose in the end?
EXCERPT
Calam awoke with a headache and a confused void where her mind used to be.  Propping herself up on her elbows, she squinted in the morning light as she eyeballed her surroundings.  After a full minute and several pan-scans of the room Calam hunched her shoulders.  She had no clue where she was.  Geez, was it possible to be hung-over without actually getting drunk the night before?  The question was second only to her wild curiosity as to whose bed she occupied.  Good Lawd, had she been roofied or what?  A quick glance to her chest.  Nope.  She still had her clothes on…or someone’s clothes, anyway.  Something furry moved against her leg, and she jerked away and nearly screamed…until she heard an annoyed meow.  Sasha stretched in a deep yawn at the foot of the bed.
Sasha…Luce’s pervy pet.  Her mind cranked back up like a long-dead stalled car.  She was in Luce’s apartment, in his palatial king-sized bed, wearing his spice-scented t-shirt that dangled down around her knees when she eventually stumbled from the bed onto her feet.  Luce, ever the gentleman, slept on the convertible couch in the front room.  Had Calamity been in the exact same position but under different circumstances, she’d be ecstatic.  But, her impending arrest cast a wee pall over her euphoria.  Still, she preened with wicked satisfaction at having spent the night in his bedroom…Satan’s Lair, she dubbed, as an impish smile twitched at her lips.  Hmm, might as well have a quick lookie-loo…the chance may not arise again, she reasoned.
Luce’s private domain dripped with personality as compared to the more Spartan décor of the rest of his apartment.  Several framed family snapshots littered the nightstand along with a cordless telephone and touch sensitive lamp, which shockingly emitted a warm crimson glow when she brushed it with her fingertips.  Two impressionistic prints adorned the walls.  Each depicted vague anthropomorphic forms cavorting about against a pastel-blended background.  They reminded her of something naughty she once glimpsed when she’d accidentally flipped to the Spice Channel on her pay-per-view.
The corner off the edge of the bed housed a dark mahogany desk topped with a matching bookshelf that ran up the wall.  The books she discovered beneath one of the pillows and under the edge of the bed outed Luce as a late-night reader.  Hmm, The Count of Monte Cristo.  He likes the classics.  Her eyes bucked as she skimmed across Master: An Erotic Novel of the Count of Monte Cristo riding shotgun next to Dumas’ version.  Likewise, she spied Phantom of the Opera paired with its erotic twin.  Skimming further…Pride, Prejudice and Zombies?  The titles were endless.  Fascinated, she pulled Robin Hood: Unmasqued After Dark from the shelf and flipped through the pages.  Good night!  Is this what he reads?!  Classic literature corrupted as modern erotica and horror tales?  The thought curled her toes.  So, Lucifer wasn’t quite the choir boy he pretended.  There might be hope for them yet, she mused. 
         Shaking off her fantasies, Calamity put the book down and ran a hand through her hair and grimaced.  It had, of course, gone into kinky snarls during the night.  There wasn’t time for a wash and press even if she had a hot-comb or flat iron with her, which she didn’t.  She’d have to French braid it if she didn’t want to mirror Leo the Lion when she took her mug shot.  First things first, though.  She padded to the living room on bare feet to sneak a peek at the object of her affection.
         He lay atop the covers, one solid sinewy arm flung out over the empty side of the bed while the other was bent at the elbow and pillowed behind his head.  His torso was a study in Italian sculpture.  Smooth tawny-gold chest as broad as the Atlantic tapered downward into a rippling six-pack of muscles.  Her gaze wondered lower.  The suggestive spiral of coarse dark hairs disappeared beneath the drawstring pajama bottoms.  Oy!  Calam stepped closer so that she cast the sunlight from the window in a shadow over his face.  Lashes like paint-brush bristles fluttered open.  Curious inky slits regarded her…with groggy interest, she noted.
         “Yeah, I’m not a morning person either.”  She admitted.
         “Hmmm, come ‘ere.”
         Before she could respond, his hand shot out from behind his head and Calamity found herself sprawled torso to torso atop him, enveloped in a loose embrace.  She popped herself up on her elbows to spy two intense pools of ink impaling her…unable to resist, her gaze drifted downward to his mouth.
         “Did you sleep well?”  His voice reverberated deeper than his usual baritone.          
         Lusty thoughts a’jumble in her brain, Calamity could only nod.  Have mercy!  He might think her a presumptuous tart but at the moment, the sensual lure of his lips was too powerful to ignore.  Calam shimmed up to close the distance between them before she lost her nerve.  His bottomless-pit black orbs stalked her, seeming to guess her intent…but he made no move to help or to hinder.  So she brushed his mouth with a light, lingering kiss, giving him the choice to put an end to it if he wanted.
         A deep rumble in his chest vibrated through her, stoking the fires of her confidence.  She smiled against his mouth when she felt his lips part, inviting her in.  Encouraged, Calam deepened the kiss.  For the sake of balance, she flattened her palms on either side of his head.
         Meanwhile, Luce lost a hand in the kinky tufts of her hair.  The other roamed up and down her t-shirted back.  Heaven help him, but her small warm form felt sinful atop his body.  The knowledge that she wore his shirt, and judging by her simmering body heat, nothing underneath, intrigued him all the more.  The soft feminine feel of her ignited his lower regions and sent them into a slow burn.  He derived an almost perverse pleasure from letting her set the pace of their interlude.  That this woman, whom he out-weighed by at least a hundred pounds, could produce such a quicksilver reaction in him with a chaste little smooch amazed him, hooked him, cementing his fascination with her.
         She caught his lower lip between her teeth, teasing at first but then with purpose, she inched away…upward, pulling him along for the ride.  He knew what she wanted and complied, rising to follow her into a sitting position.  Her rear slid snugly into his lap.  Her bent knees rested on either side of his hips, while her hands crept around his neck.
         Unable to curb his appetite for her, Luce slid his hands down to her compact yet delectably curved bottom, tilting her closer, molding her against his body.  He wanted her to feel him…see her expression, gauge her reaction to the telltale––He felt her tense, and chuckled as she broke off their playful-turned-explosive kiss.  She squirmed against his blossoming ‘affection’.  Ah hell…he grimaced as a pleasurable pain ripped through him.
         “Shorty, uh…” He pulled back a ways.  Inky black eyes met her chocolate brown orbs… checking for approval or revulsion.  She broke off first.
         “I only meant to kiss you.”  She explained in a squeaky voice strangled with… embarrassment, he guessed.  “I’m…eh, sorry.”
         “Don’t be.  I’m not.”  Luce grinned despite himself.  Damn, did the woman know how adorable she was?  “Although, it’s probably better if you get up now.”
         “Oh!  Of course, my bad.”  She clumsily disentangled herself from him and got off the bed.  He watched her meander over to the kitchen, fidgety, with his t-shirt dangling teasingly off one shoulder.
         “I could fix us something to eat while you take a shower?  I mean, if you don’t mind my invading your kitchen.”
         Luce stood, heading toward the bedroom.  A cold shower, he thought.  “Yeah, sure, make yourself at home.”
About the Author

D. Alyce Domain. Is a long-time lover of creative fiction.  She learned to read with Dr. Seuss, grew up reading Sweet Valley High, James Howe, and Lois Duncan, and graduated to category romance with Harlequin and Silhouette in her teen years.  Ms. Domain started out writing fan-fiction after her favorite fictional characters met with death and cancellation on network television.  Inspired by the entertaining, multi-layered storylines created by so many female romance, young adult and television writers, she began to experiment with her own characters.  Coupled with her own unique brand of genre-bending romantic fiction, Ms. Domain was able to create a whole new world within the pages of her books.
Ms. Domain was born and raised in Houston, Texas, the youngest daughter of Charles and Eunice Domain.  She has one older sister.  She earned a BS in Biochemistry and a MS in Biomedical Sciences.  She worked in Patient-Based Biological Research before switching careers and opening her own fashion boutique, The Aesthetic Domain.  In addition to fashion apparel and accessories, she sells her own original jewelry creations and runs the Boutique & Blog website, which is based in Houston, Texas.  Ms. Domain also has avid interests in inspirational music, art/entertainment, and history.
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Alas, She Drowned

Cozy Mystery
Date Published: April 12, 2016
Murder. Betrayal. Duplicity.
When ex-novice nun, turned steamy romance writer, Maggie O’Flynn moves to the charming village of Stratford Upon Avondale to open a tea room she expects plenty of murder, betrayal, and duplicity. On the stages of the town’s renowned Shakespeare Festival. But when a theater critic is found murdered on the town’s riverbank and the prime suspect turns out to be the sexy bookshop owner Maggie has had her eye on, she takes matters into her own hands. Will she be able to dig through the layers of betrayal and duplicity to find the true murderer before that handsome bookseller, Nate Larimer, finds himself behind bars? With the help of her loud, brash, spitfire of a friend, Gina Mattucci, Maggie plans to do just that.
With a bit of Shakespeare, copious amounts of tea, and a faux-English setting to rival anything the real England has to offer, ALAS, SHE DROWNED is the first book in THE STRATFORD UPON AVONDALE mystery series. Lovers of cozy mysteries will find a cozy home in Stratford Upon Avondale.
EXCERPT
As I placed the sandwich board advertising, “Authentic English Cream Teas, $7.99”, outside my twee tea room I came to a realization. In the past two weeks alone, I’d had all the murder, mayhem, scandal, and treachery I could handle.
When I’d moved from my home in Philadelphia to this small town four months earlier I had no idea it was such a hotbed of scandal. Murders were commonplace; duplicity abounded; treachery was to be expected.
And yet the place is bucolic beyond words. Nestled in a rural corner of a western state, it is surrounded by orchards and vineyards. But much of its claim to fame is the center of town which resembles a quaint English village, with every building seeming to have been lifted from Tudor or Victorian England. Mullioned windows, exposed timbers, bay windows, gables, and jettied top floors appear to be building code requirements.
But still, all that murder and duplicity.
Murder and duplicity that could be found on Stratford Upon Avondale’s two renowned stages. The five-month long Shakespeare festival is the town’s raison d’être. 
In my short time in the village I had already attended three plays—two Shakespeare and one production of Arsenic and Old Lace.
Yes, that was indeed plenty of murder and scandal, and the festival had just begun.
“Morning, Maggie,” called out Mrs. Vachon from the souvenir shop three doors down the street, where she was meticulously sweeping the sidewalk. After a few days of clouds and rain, the morning sun felt warm and welcome, and I noticed Mrs. Vachon wasn’t the only merchant outside tidying up.
“Good morning.” I waved at the energetic, gray-haired woman who’d been running her shop for over forty years.
 Maggie O’Flynn—I was the newbie in town. Most of the business owners in the town dedicated to all things Shakespeare and England,— despite being five thousand miles from English soil—had been here for years. Yet they all welcomed me with open arms when I purchased the Merry Wives Tea Room and settled into their town. 
About the Author

Monica Knightley began creating compelling characters and stories at the age of three, when she had a plethora of imaginary friends, all with complete backstories. Today any characters that come knocking on the door of her imagination find themselves in one of her mysteries, young adult novels, or paranormal romances.
When not fueling her reading addiction or writing her next book, Monica loves to travel with her husband, with England being her favorite frequently visited destination, and perhaps France coming in a close second. She can’t live without perfectly steeped tea, a good bold red wine, and dark chocolate. Monica loves her time with family and friends and can never get enough of either.
Monica lives in Portland, Oregon where the frequent rainy weather is perfect for curling up with a good book and a cup of tea.
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Withering Hope

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: January 18, 2015

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USA TODAY BESTSELLER
This is a full-length, STANDALONE romance.
Aimee’s wedding is supposed to turn out perfect. Her dress, her fiancé and the location—the idyllic holiday ranch in Brazil—are perfect.
But all Aimee’s plans come crashing down when the private jet that’s taking her from the U.S. to the ranch—where her fiancé awaits her—defects mid-flight and the pilot is forced to perform an emergency landing in the heart of the Amazon rainforest.
With no way to reach civilisation, being rescued is Aimee and Tristan’s—the pilot—only hope. A slim one that slowly withers away, desperation taking its place. Because death wanders in the jungle under many forms: starvation, diseases. Beasts.
As Aimee and Tristan fight to find ways to survive, they grow closer. Together they discover that facing old, inner agonies carved by painful pasts takes just as much courage, if not even more, than facing the rainforest.
Despite her devotion to her fiancé, Aimee can’t hide her feelings for Tristan—the man for whom she’s slowly becoming everything. You can hide many things in the rainforest. But not lies. Or love.
Withering Hope is the story of a man who desperately needs forgiveness and the woman who brings him hope. It is a story in which hope births wings and blooms into a love that is as beautiful and intense as it is forbidden.
EXCERPT 1
Tristan pours a few drops of shower gel over my board and then over his. It’s not enough to clean the clothes, but it makes them smell better. That’s as high as we can hope given our circumstances, and we’re very careful to waste as little shower gel as possible.
“What’s your favorite color?” Tristan asks. At last he’s enjoying our little questioning game and initiates it almost as often as I do.
“White.”
“That’s a non-color,” Tristan says with a smile, tsk-tsking.
“Well, it’s the one I like most,” I say defensively.
“That’s why you have so much white clothing?”
“Yeah,” I say, surprised he noticed that. I wore white a lot in L.A.
He nods, as if considering something. “You look good in white.”
I blush slightly. One of the wavy short sleeves of the dress I’m wearing falls off my shoulder. I raise my hand to put it back in place as Tristan does the same. Our hands meet mid-way, and when our fingers touch, electricity zips through us. It’s so intense, I feel a burning sensation in my fingers even after we break contact. The warmth spreads from my fingers, rising to my cheeks, and I blush, confused, even more so when I realize Tristan is avoiding my gaze.
“You look good in everything you wear,” he says, “Aimee.”
I flinch a bit at the sound of my name. I usually do when he says it. And he says it often, ever since I asked him to. I can’t pinpoint how or why, but it sounds different now.
After a few minutes I ask, “What’s your favorite meal?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Omelette.”
I snicker. “That doesn’t qualify as a meal,” I say, seizing the chance to get back at him for mocking my favorite color. “No one dreams about an omelette. That’s a last resort food anyone can cook. Pick something else.”
“Well, that’s what I like. I love an omelette for breakfast. It’s a privilege to be able to eat one while sitting in a comfortable chair, reading the newspaper.”
That’s a bit weird, but I let it go. Every day here must be a privilege for him since we eat eggs almost every morning, though boiled, not an omelette. Maybe it’s his guilty pleasure. Like coffee is for me.
“I don’t know about omelettes, but I like my coffee in the morning.”
“I know,” he says, smiling even wider. “At 7:00 a.m. sharp. With one spoon of sugar.”
“You’re perceptive,” I say. “What else did you notice about me?”
“You like to change your haircut every six months and—”
“Wow. You’d make a perfect boyfriend,” I say, stunned. “Most men don’t notice things like that.”
His expression hardens, and I bite my lip. Stepping into forbidden territory again.
“I meant it as a compliment,” I add, though I have the feeling that won’t help.
“I just like to observe… the little things,” he says, clipping out the words. I mull them over for a few seconds in silence.
About the Author

Welcome! My name is Layla Hagen and I am a Contemporary Romance author.
I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later. I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world. And I drink coffee. Lots of it 😀
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Killer Pursuit

Thriller
Date Published: January 18, 2016

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When a secret webcam is found in the Georgetown bedroom of a murdered high-society call girl, everyone in Washington, DC wants the recording…especially the killer. 
After a high-society call girl is brutally murdered in her Georgetown home, investigators find two cameras hidden in the walls of her bedroom. One has its memory erased, presumably by the murderer. The second is a webcam with an encrypted connection…and no-one knows who’s on the other end. Whoever has the recordings has embarrassing leverage against some of the most powerful men in DC, not to mention a video of the murder showing the identity of the killer.
FBI Special Agent Allison McNeil is asked by beleaguered FBI Director Clarence Mason to run an off-the-record investigation of the murder because of the murder’s similarity to a case she worked a year earlier. Allison knows the most direct path to apprehending the killer is to find the videos, but rumors that the victim’s client list may include some of Washington’s most powerful men makes her doubt the director’s motives. As she starts her investigation, she quickly discovers that she’s not the only one pursuing the recording…but that the most aggressive person racing against her might be the murderer himself.
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About the Author

Jeff Gunhus is the author thriller and horror novels for adults and the middle grade/YA series, The Templar Chronicles. The first book, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his reluctant reader eleven-year old son excited about reading. It worked and a new series was born. His books for adults have reached the Top 100 on Amazon and have been Foreword Reviews Book of the Year Finalists.
After his experience with his son, he is passionate about helping parents reach young reluctant readers and is active in child literacy issues. As a father of five, he leads an active lifestyle in Maryland with his wife Nicole by trying to constantly keep up with their kids. In rare moments of quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working on his next novel.
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