Laura Howard

4/5/14

Cover Reveal: The Space in Between by Jen Minkman


Cover Reveal THE SPACE IN BETWEEN

Genre: YA Paranormal

Author: Jen Minkman


By signing up for the release notification below, you are automatically entered to win a free copy and an Amazon Gift Card — courtesy of Rebecca Hamilton


The Space In Between (1)





The Space in Between

by Jen Minkman


When Moira helps out her sister and brother in a Wiccan ritual on Halloween, the last thing she expects is to be swept away to a mystical wilderness. Sitting within the stones of the ancient circle of Penmaenmawr, Wales, she’s convinced it’s an illusion. But the dark-haired, handsome man with amnesia that Moira meets during her trance cannot be blinked away like a dream.

Hayko, the mysterious stranger, won’t let go. After returning home from her stone circle adventure, she is beckoned back night after night to the outlandish dreamland by an invisible force. But the hardest part isn’t having to fight the terrifying creatures of these nightmares–it’s realizing she’s falling for a guy without a past who isn’t real.

What if you really can fall in love with the man of your dreams?



4/1/14

Cover Reveal I LOVED THAT ABOUT HER by C.R. Everett




I LOVED THAT ABOUT HER by C.R. Everett – SYNOPSIS

In Love, Carry My Bags, we felt Camryn Johnson’s joy and pain during her heartwrenching and heartwarming journey through life’s circumstances, poor choices, and difficult lessons. Through her relationships with both Glenn and Reese, she became the person she wanted and needed to be.
Now it’s Glenn’s turn.
Glenn, who feels chronically misunderstood, shares his side of the story in the stand-alone novelI Loved That About Her, revealing his own inner struggles and showing what it’s like to live at the mercy of forces beyond conscious control. These forces take him and his family to the edge when college arch nemesis, Raine Babcock, wreaks havoc on their lives. Glenn shows us that all is not necessarily what it seems, even to himself.
Walking a mile in his shoes, may change hearts and minds about the bad boy from Love, Carry My Bags that readers loved to hate.
Recommended for mature audiences 17+ for language and sexual situations.
EXCERPT 
My job ticked along way better than expected. Once I was on the inside, had my clearance, and put my naturally excessive curiosity to work, doors opened. And I opened them.
I popped my head into the lab walking back to my desk after an aircraft inspection. “Any little green men in here?” I asked.
“Glenn,” my boss, who happened to be in the room, said. “I was just talking about you.”
“Yep, my ears were burning. That’s why I stopped by. Whatcha need?” I asked.
My boss looked like he didn’t know quite what to make of me, but overlooked any reservations he may have had, just like anyone else who saw my potential and took a chance on me had. For those folks, I was grateful. A flashback to my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Emerson, came to mind. She was the only one who took the time after class to sit down with me and re-explain each day’s lesson, because sitting there in a room full of quiet kids, listening, drove me ape shit. Instead of listening, I fidgeted in my chair wondering what was for lunch, sometimes getting out of my chair for a better view out the window, especially when a plane flew overhead. Mrs. Emerson was nice. “I have one just like you at home,” she said. I’m not sure what she meant, but at the time, I was thinking “nice little boy.” During our one-on-one’s, she’d speak to me like I mattered and never criticized me for not being like all the other kids who could sit in their chairs, listen, and understand, going off to do their homework by themselves after class. We did my homework together, and she gave me M&Ms after each problem I did right. Once I figured that out, I aced almost everything because there was a good reason to do the work. M&Ms right away, not some dumb letter grade handed back on a page three days later. When she explained to my folks that I knew the material, they laid into me about why I couldn’t do it at home in my room, but they clearly didn’t understand the power of M&Ms . . . or one-on-one.
“Conroy,” my boss said, “we need you in Seattle. You’re the first guy I thought of when this assignment came up—right up your alley.”
I was intrigued. My ears perked up when the words “need you” hit the air. Plus the fact that he thought of me, and “right up your alley” sounded phenom. Having gotten my attention, I listened intently as boss man outlined the particulars of the job, throwing in words like “top secret” and “special clearances” and “national security.” I was all over it and would have accepted right then and there if I didn’t need to consider Camryn.
“We need you ASAP,” he said.
“Let me talk it over with my wife,” I said, somehow managing to stifle my excitement. I hoped she’d like the idea too.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR



C.R. Everett was born in Northern Illinois and has lived in various places over the years, currently residing in Utah. For twenty years she worked in finance, but today devotes her time to writing. She lives with her husband, two kids, Shiba Inu, and cat. When not writing, she updates her website, connects with her readers, does the mom thing, or cleans up after unruly pets. In her free time she enjoys reading, usually at the gym while on a treadmill, baking, taking walks, enjoying nature, and going to Starbucks. Mocha is her favorite.


Love, Carry My Bags Amazon Link UShttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B009SZYJ3W

LOVE, CARRY MY BAGS – SYNOPSIS
Camryn Johnson’s world is turned upside down when long lost love, Reese Dahlgren, re-enters her life at a pivotal point in her already challenging marriage. She faces an excruciating predicament: choose between a broken home for her daughter or a broken life for herself.
After her parents' divorce, Camryn first meets high school basketball star, Reese, at the Harvard Milk Day Festival bed races. Reese hides baggage of his own…until Camryn melts his heart and learns secrets entrusted only to her. Still, the weight is too much to bear. Unable to cope, Reese unwittingly backs Camryn into a corner during his air force enlistment—love him from afar, or leave him.
Enter aerospace engineering student, Glenn Conroy. Persistent and savvy, he woos Camryn during her junior year of college and wins her heart. Or does he? When Reese re-enters her life, further disrupting her tenuous marriage, Camryn turns to best friend, Megan, for advice, but refuses to believe Megan’s suggestion that she’s caught in a “simple” love triangle.
Camryn unveils hidden mysteries and secrets as she embarks on a life-changing journey of revelation and forgiveness, transcending doormat qualities inherited from her mother, and in the process finds what life's struggles are really all about.

C.R. Everett's heart-wrenching debut novel takes the reader on an emotion-packed journey that lingers long after the last page is turned.

LOVE, CARRY MY BAGS – EXCERPT
Reese’s dad was putzing around the kitchen when we walked in. “Oh, you’re staying too,” he said, my duffel prodding his memory. “You can put your stuff in Helen’s room. Since she’s not using it anymore, you may as well.”
“Hey.” Reese greeted his father.
“If you want something to eat, you’ll have to fix it the old fashioned way.” Mr. Dahlgren stirred leftover spaghetti heating on the stove. “Your mother made sure I’d be living in the dark ages when she absconded with the microwave . . . . At least she left the television.” Reese and I exchanged uneasy glances.
“Well, that’s a good thing because you and Reese would be bored watching the microwave together while I do my homework,” I said, grasping for the bright side. “Reese, would you show me upstairs?” I asked, conveniently escaping the awkward moment.
He carried our bags up the stairs and placed mine on a low-set king-sized bed in the first room on the left. The room reminded me of my grandmother’s house with dimly lit gabled walls and a faint odor of must, the vintage green bedspread, a ‘50s remnant. “Your parents didn’t sleep together?” I asked, surprised. It hadn’t occurred to me that married people might not sleep together. Well, there were the Samuelson’s I’d heard of, but they were in their nineties and had health issues which made a shared bed logistically impractical.
“They haven’t shared a room for years,” Reese said, like this was normal—at least in his parents’ household. I stood, focusing through the bed, my head, lost.
“Look,” I said with reluctance, “I’ve got some homework that’s due tomorrow. Why don’t you go downstairs and spend some time with your dad?” Reese’s eyes told me he knew it was the right thing to do even though he’d rather not.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he reiterated, giving me a parting kiss then closed the door behind him. I flopped on the bed, opened Accounting II.
Twenty T-squares later, Reese knocked on the door.
“I brought you some water.”  He set the glass on the bedside table then sat down next to me. “How’s it going?”
“I’m almost done.” I took a sip of water. “Thanks.”
“Good, I could use some company down there. Dad keeps bringing up sore subjects, between channel surfing. ‘Have you spoke to your mother?’ ‘Why did she leave?’ ‘The grass isn’t greener . . . it’s damn brown for me.’ ‘Why don’t you do something worthwhile with your life?’ Stuff like that.” I put my accounting text down and climbed onto Reese’s lap. I wanted to make all his bad disappear.

30 Days of Destiny - Stone of Destiny (Danaan Trilogy, Book 2)


Who's excited about the release of Stone of Destiny (Danaan Trilogy, Book 2)

I'm so excited that starting today, my friends and I are throwing a Party!! All during the month of April, I'll be hosting a Facebook party with giveaways, contests and teasers here:


 https://www.facebook.com/events/1454422248126201/





Please check your e-mails for when Stone of Destiny goes LIVE!
 (please sign up here if you have not done so: http://eepurl.com/yKniX




Please Comment and Share this post with your friends - help me spread the good news!

3/26/14

Don’t Give Your Money Back to Them! #GoIndie


Got an e-book settlement? 


Traditional publishers raised e-book prices, and the legal system went after them for it.

You may have recently gotten notified that you are getting some money back from them.


You can use that money to support an independent publisher. This is your risk-free chance to discover a great book you’ve never read, and to support the new way authors connect with readers.

Sure, you could take your settlement and buy one book or use that same money and buy several books from an indie!

More to read for you, and you help shape the future of publishing.






3/21/14

The Forgotten Ones on sale for Less than two bucks!



In anticipation of Stone of Destiny's release next month, 
The Forgotten Ones is on sale for $1.99


*********





Stay tuned for a weekly teaser from Stone of Destiny starting Next Week!

3/18/14

Flesh & Bone by Lee Strauss

Introducing  Flesh & Bone 
- a contemporary romance, 
(The Minstrel Series #2)
Coming April 3rd!



She can’t remember. He can’t forget.

Eva Baumann is invisible. Sebastian Weiss is famous. In a perfect world Eva would be fearless and Sebastian would be guiltless.
It’s not a perfect world.
 
 Another amazing cover by the very talented Steven Novak of Steven Novak Designs!

The Minstrel Series is a collection of contemporary romance novels set in the singer/songwriter world. The books are companion novels, with shared settings and characters, but each is a complete stand-alone story with a HEA (happily ever after) and no cliffhangers! 

FLESH & BONE INCLUDES MORE GREAT ORGINAL MUSIC MP3s!
The Music for Flesh & Bone is amazing!  View it here.

Haven't read #1 Sun & Moon?  Get it here:



EXCERPT of Flesh & Bone - read to the end and enter to WIN a $20.00 Amazon gift card and songs!

The Scars They See
 
 
Gabriele had dared her to do this. “Just walk in, sign your name, and play a song for heaven's sake.” It was easy for her to say. Eva Baumann's sister didn't understand what it was like to be afraid. What it was like to be invisible. Gabriele oozed confidence, tall and lithe like a runway model, lighting up every room she entered. She was pretty, talented, smart.

And not handicapped.

Eva eyed the graffiti-marred entrance of the Blue Note Pub and watched as other musicians and-patrons strolled into the darkened room. Music pumping from the sound system escaped into the narrow corridor of four-story stone buildings every time the heavy wooden door opened and closed. Eva carefully set down her guitar case and rested her hand over her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow. The muscle pulsed erratically, and her stomach wanted to dry heave.

Eva gripped her cane with white knuckles. She'd learned to master the uneven sidewalks with careful steps, but the cobblestones were still a nemesis, especially in colder months like March. The rubber knob on the tip of her cane had to center on a stone, otherwise she could lose her balance and fall. It was necessary to wait for a break in traffic or to continue to the corner for a walk light before daring to cross the street.

She took a deep breath. She could do this. This was just an irrational fear—not real. Nothing bad would happen to her in that room. It was filled with people who loved music as much as she did. It was loud and crowded and dark, and no one would expect her to talk. When they called her name, she'd focus on the small stage, blocking out everyone in the room out until she safely stepped up. Then she'd just close her eyes and pretend she was at the street church playing to the people who came for the soup they provided.

She could do this.

A cold wind blew hair across Eva's face and she snapped to attention just as the little green man flashed on to indicate it was safe to walk. She lumbered across with a guitar in her left hand and her cane in her right. The weight of her instrument pulled her shoulders forward, her back arching slightly under her winter jacket. She caught her reflection in a store window and frowned. She looked like a crazy, old lady, not a nineteen-year-old girl.

Eva tucked her cane under her left armpit and reached for the door. It swung open sharply, a patron had exited at the same moment, and she was shoved against the wall, nearly losing her balance.

“Excuse me,” the guy said. He held the door open, waiting for her to go in. She wanted to turn around and head straight home, but the guy's eyes stayed on her, waiting. The cold air whooshed inside.

It would be impolite not to pass through. “Thank you,” she said softly. She leaned on her cane and entered. She'd been to the Blue Note before. Gabriele and her British boyfriend Lennon Smith had dragged her out one night, so she knew what to expect. There was a bar to the right and table seating to the left. A poster on the wall read: “If you want to chat with your pals while the band is playing, take your conversation outside.” The air smelled of beer and cigarette smoke clinging to damp wool jackets. At the back of the midsized room was a small stage lit by two lights hanging from the ceiling.

Her stomach churned, and once again she questioned herself. Why had she come? What did she have to prove? Why did she care so much what Gabriele thought? She stared back at the door.

“Hello, ma Cherie. Would you like to sign your name?”

The gruff yet friendly voice stopped Eva before she could leave. She knew the manager, Herr Maurice Leduc, by reputation, but had never spoken to him before. “I don't know,” she answered.

“Well—” His eyes darted to the guitar in her hand. “I just thought since you lugged that thing in with you.” He pushed the sign-up sheet closer.
Eva didn't have the heart to deny the man. She took the pen and scribbled her name.

“Wonderful,” Herr Leduc said with a sincere grin that filled a round face. “I look forward to hearing you play...” he glanced down at his sheet, “Eva Baumann.”

The room consisted of a lot of wood. Tables, chairs, benches and floors—all darkly stained, old wood. Even the ceiling had rough, open wood beams. Eva claimed a nearby empty chair and breathed in and out, long and slow. She was here. She'd done it. Wait until she told Gabriele. Wouldn't she be surprised?
A server arrived, and Eva ordered a cola. The other people who shared the long table gave her sideways glances at her childish drink and cheered each other as they lifted their beer glasses.

Herr Leduc walked on stage and welcomed everyone. He called the first act, a girl with long, golden hair, he introduced as Katja Stoltz.

Eva listened intently impressed with the girl's talent and the way she took over the stage like she owned it. That was what Eva needed to do. Own it.

The girl finished her song, and after much-deserved applause, she joined her friends at a table across the room. A guy in his early twenties with a peacock tattoo along one arm stood to give Katja Stoltz a hug. He had messy, dark brown hair and bristles on his face, like he hadn’t shaven in a few days. He laughed and high-fived her before sitting and draping the peacock around a thin girl with spiky hair.

A shiver ran up Eva's back. She recognized that guy. Last summer, when she was playing guitar for the homeless, many of them had raised their hands to God in praise. The outside metal blinds had been raised, they always were when the church was open, and a group of guys had stopped to watch from across the street. They began to laugh and then threw their arms in the air, mocking the people worshiping inside.

That was the first time Eva had seen that peacock tattoo, and she'd never forget the laughing face of the handsome boy who went with it.

Her short-lived confidence shriveled at the thought of being the guy's next target. Oh, why did she come? She'd leave right now if she thought she could do it without making a scene. The room had filled, and there was no way she could slip out unnoticed with her guitar and her cane.

She sipped her cola and kept her eyes focused on each act as it was called. Every time Herr Leduc stepped to the mic to call a name, Eva’s heart filled with nervous dread and emptied with a flush of relief when she didn't hear hers.

“ Sebastian Weiss,” Herr Leduc said.

The guy with the peacock tattoo hooted, shifted out from behind his table and grabbed his guitar.

So that was his name.

He hopped onto the stage and strapped on a guitar with an over-confidence Eva envied. She wanted him to be terrible so that she could add self-delusion to his other obvious traits of conceit and insensitivity, but unfortunately he wasn't. His voice was smooth and strong, and he had great range.

She also happened to notice the flex in his biceps that poked out of the short sleeves of his dark T-shirt and how his jeans fit nicely on slender hips.

He finished his song and fisted the air like he just won a boxing match. The audience went crazy. Eva couldn't help but join in the applause. Something about Sebastian was electric. His aura and competence, his popularity—she couldn't peel her eyes off him. His arm returned to its position around the girl beside him who hadn't smiled once. Such a contrast to Sebastian who couldn't stop smiling. He seemed quite taken by the pixie girl and kissed her excitedly on the cheek.

“Eva Baumann.”

What? Eva had been so busy watching the table of cool people, she hadn't been paying attention.

Herr Leduc's accented German bellowed again. “Eva Baumann.”

Eva's heart stopped. Then raced. Her hands broke out into a sweat, and she blinked back the tears welling up behind her eyes, which were opened far too wide. Her head prickled hotly, and she swallowed hard. She could sense the attention of the room, necks craning, everyone searching, waiting for the next act to stand.

Herr Leduc stared at her, and all she could do was shake her head. He gave her a gracious nod and called the next name.

A girl with short, dark hair bounced out of her seat, and within seconds Eva was forgotten. She took advantage of the swirl of commotion that occurred between acts, grabbing her guitar and cane, and limped to the entrance.

It was a terrible mistake to come, she thought as she hobbled down the crusty street. She kept her head bowed low against the cold, and gripped her guitar case and her cane. If she'd had a third hand, she'd swipe at the bitter tear that slid down her cheek.
 
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3/10/14

St Patty's Day Facebook & Pinterest Party



Join your favorite YA and NA authors as we celebrate being Irish for a day and play on Pinterest. There will be over 45 e-book giveaways! 

You can join the Facebook party HERE!

You won't want to miss it!

Participating Authors:


Lila Felix   A. W. Exley  Melissa Pearl   
Jessica Gibson  Cindy M. Hogan  Sarah Ashley Jones  
Marie Landry  Rachel Morgan  Jennifer Snyder 
Stacey Marie Brown  Jessica Therrien  D.L. Raver 
Stacey Wallace Benefiel  Marilyn Almodóvar  Angee Taylor 
A.O. Peart  Devyn Dawson  Rick Chiantaretto 
Raine Thomas  L.P. Dover  Tamara Hart Heiner  
Leigh T Moore  Meradeth Houston  Amber Argyle 
Tawdra Kandle  Carlyle Labuschagne  Lisa Collicutt
Christy Dorrity  Stephanie Fowers  Kristina Renee
Faith McKay  Charlotte Abel  Jamie Ayres
A.M. Hargrove  Charli Webb  Amy Harmon  
Alyssa Rose Ivy  Kristie Cook  Lani Woodland
T.M. Franklin  Laura Howard  Sharron Riddle
Eliza Tilton  S. M. Boyce  Bethany Lopez 
Dawn Leigh  L.A. Casey  Emma Adams  
Amber Garr  Liz Long







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