Showing posts with label pre-order. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pre-order. Show all posts

Monday, April 2, 2018

"The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder" by Cookie O'Gorman


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder
by Cookie O'Gorman

The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder by Cookie O'Gorman

The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder by Cookie O'Gorman is due for release 4 April but is currently available for pre-order. This tour is brought to you by YA Bound Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


Description
In the south, everyone has a secret - and murder is served with sweet tea.
The word's out: Ethan Wilder’s coming back to town, and the people of Bowie, Georgia are in a southern tizzy. Everyone knows the story. He shot and killed his sister four years ago, and people say his father, Jim Wilder, the biggest holy roller this side of the Mississippi, sent him packing for just that reason. Even if her death was unofficially ruled a suicide, Ethan’s return has everybody talking.
Seventeen-year-old Delilah Doherty can’t go anywhere without hearing his name. Born and raised in Bowie, Delilah knows firsthand about the gossipmongers and how they love a good scandal. The daughter of a wild child and niece of the local psychic, she’s also the only one who doubts Ethan’s guilt.
After Ethan saves her life, the two start a slow and steady burn neither can deny. But when Bowie's spiritual leader is nearly murdered, it rocks the small southern town to its core. Delilah and Ethan are caught in the crossfire, their relationship threatened before it's even begun. Someone has it out for Ethan's family. With everyone convinced of Ethan's guilt, it's up to Delilah to unravel the mystery before someone else gets hurt or worse ... dead.

Excerpt
Just as I turned, a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.
“Oh,” I said, releasing a breath. “It’s just you.”
“Hmm,” Wilder said. “Relief. That’s a new one.”
Realizing how I must look, I dropped my hands. They’d flown to my chest in fear before I’d realized it was him. “What’re you doing back here? Do you smoke or something?”
“No,” he said. “Do you?”
“No,” I said incredulously.
He studied my face so long I began to blush.
“What?”
“Tell your boyfriend not to bring his football into the music store anymore. It’s strange.”
“And lurking in shadows isn’t?” I crossed my arms. “Bruce isn’t my boyfriend.”
He scoffed quietly, which automatically got my blood up.
“What?” I said again.
His eyes went to mine. “You let just any guy touch you like that?”
“Sure, why not?” I said not missing a beat. “Haven’t you heard, Wilder? I’m a Doherty. Everyone gets a free ride. You want yours now?”
It was his turn to blush, but he didn’t. The jerk. The only reaction I perceived was a slight clenching of his jaw.
“No?” I pushed. “Had enough this morning, did you? Who was that girl anyway? A few things about her aren’t genuine, that’s for sure.”
He smiled a slow smile, and I bit my cheek. Where the heck had that come from?
“She’s just a girl,” Wilder said, still wearing that annoying smile.
“Then why was her tongue shoved down your throat?”
My eyes went wide. Holy crap, was that my voice?
Shaking his head, Wilder walked a few steps closer.
“It was only a kiss,” he said, stopping right in front of me.
“Yeah, right,” I muttered, though it was hard to say anything with him so close. My throat had gone dry, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to swallow.
He leaned in until we were nose to nose then paused.
For one insane second, I thought: Good Lord, Ethan Wilder is going to kiss me.
Instead, he lifted his hand, ran two fingers lightly under my jaw. I shivered as the tips came away white, covered in powdered sugar.
“You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.” Rubbing the sugar away with his thumb, he straightened, turned and walked through the back door to the music store.
My face was a permanent shade of red, somewhere close to fire brick and flaming. Jealous? Me? Yeah right, I scoffed though it was too late for him to hear. It wasn’t like I cared who Ethan Wilder kissed. Nope, not me.
The heck with curiosity, I’d seen more than enough.

Praise for the Book
“O’Gorman has penned another winner. With the addition of a mysterious death, she turned the typical contemporary into something deeper, more thought-provoking, and fun. It has plenty of humor. Compelling characters. Wit and snark are also definite highlights. Ethan Wilder is perfect for those who like their contemporary reads with a bit more spunk.” ~ Kelli Spear
“I had fun trying to solve the mystery. After I finished reading the book, I had an ‘Aha’ moment. Everything just fell together and clicked. ‘I knew that,’ I said. No, I really didn't. Sometimes it takes me a bit to figure out a puzzle. I'm beginning to love Cookie O'Gorman's writing.” ~ Haddie Harper

About the Author
Cookie O'Gorman
Cookie O'Gorman writes YA romance to give readers a taste of happily-ever-after. Small towns, quirky characters, and the awkward yet beautiful moments in life make up her books. Cookie also has a soft spot for nerds and ninjas. Her debut novel Adorkable is out now. Her second book, Ninja Girl, was released March 2017. The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder is due for release 4 April 2018.





Giveaway
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card.

Links

Monday, February 19, 2018

"The Fourth Gunman" by John Lansing


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
The Fourth Gunman
(Jack Bertolino Book 4)
by John Lansing

The Fourth Gunman (Jack Bertolino Book 4) by John Lansing

The Fourth Gunman, the fourth book in The Jack Bertolino Series by John Lansing, is due for release 5 March but is currently available for pre-order. Also available: The Devil's Necktie (read my blog post), Blond Cargo, and Dead Is Dead (read my blog post).


The Fourth Gunman is currently on tour with Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


Description
From the bestselling author of The Devil's Necktie, Blond Cargo, and Dead Is Dead comes the latest title in the Jack Bertolino series.
Retired inspector Jack Bertolino straddles two perilous worlds. Known for his impeccable police work, Jack has also done a priceless favor for an infamous Mafia Don: he saved the gangster’s kidnapped daughter from being sold into the sex trade and brought her safely home.
In Jack’s line of work, he can’t help but have friends - and enemies - on both sides of the law.
So, when FBI agent Luke Hunter goes missing after a deep undercover assignment with that same mob boss, the FBI calls Jack in, looking for a favor. With his connections and skills, Jack’s the only man for the job: find Luke Hunter, dead or alive.
The Mobster operates an illegal gambling yacht in international waters off of Southern California, and when Luke went missing, so did half a million dollars of the mob’s money. As Jack dives into the case, he’ll learn the true mystery isn’t the agent’s disappearance, but something far more ominous …
The Fourth Gunman is a sizzling action-packed thriller that will keep you turning pages until the explosive finale.

Excerpt
Luke Hunter sat hunched over a tight built-in desk in the cabin of a weathered thirty-six-foot catamaran docked in Marina del Rey. His fingers flew over the keyboard of a MacBook Pro. There had been one amber sconce illuminating the cabin before he broke in to the vessel, but now the laptop computer was throwing more light than he was comfortable with. At two a.m., all was quiet on the dock, but Luke was running late and still had another stop to make before he could call it a night.
Luke’s hair was short, brown, and unruly, his Italian eyes smoky, his beard dark and in need of a shave. His angular face was set with determination as he slipped a flash drive into the computer, tapped a few keys, and hit Copy, hoping to make short work of his theft.
The cabin was teak, and brass, and well worn. Rolled navigational charts littered the cramped workspace but didn’t intrude on the comfortable living quarters and the bunk that occupied the bow of the catamaran.
Luke spun in the chair, unraveled specific charts on the bed, snapped photos with his iPhone, and stowed the maps back where he’d found them. He had a theory as to why so many of the charts were focused on the waters in and around the Farallon Islands, off the coast of San Francisco, and hoped the computer files would corroborate his suspicions.
He took pictures of the scuba tanks, masks, flippers, speargun, and weight belts that were stowed aft. The galley was diminutive but efficient. A few potted succulents and fresh herbs on a shelf above the sink lent a feminine touch to the nautical surroundings. Nothing of interest there.
Luke heard the screech of the rusted security gate that led from the parking lot to the yachts and immediately shut down the computer, pocketed the flash drive, and closed the lid, tamping out the light.
He hoped it was just another liveaboard moored at the same dock, returning home after a night on the town. But he spun in place, laced his hands behind his head, and stretched out his legs, facing the teak steps that led from the stern into the cabin, ready to talk his way out of a dicey spot if necessary. It would be uncomfortable but doable. He set his face into a gotcha grin, ready to go on the offensive. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The boat rocked slightly, the slippered footfalls nearly silent as a woman made her descent into the body of the vessel. Silk drawstring pants hugged her willowy frame as she stepped off the wooden stairway and seemed to suck all the air out of the cabin.
Roxy Donnelly had straight red hair that kissed her collarbone and parted in the middle, and a light feathering of freckles on her cheeks and chest. Her hazel eyes bore in to Luke’s, assessing the situation. She came to a conclusion and—without speaking—told him everything a man wanted to hear from a woman.
Roxy was backlit, her figure silhouetted in a diaphanous white blouse. Luke could see she was braless, and his heart quickened. Her nipples rippled the fabric, and sparks spread to Luke’s chest and down to his groin. As he became aroused, he found himself at a loss for words. No mafioso cracking wise, only deep breathing trying to hide his visceral reaction to the danger of her unexpected arrival. The cabin seemed to become tighter still, if that was possible, until Roxy broke the silence.
“I knew you were smarter than you looked.” If she was aware that Luke had raided her computer, she gave no indication or surprise at his presence. “You saw the schedule, Trent’s on call.”
She stepped closer and Luke found himself on his feet. “I made the schedule,” he said.
Roxy stepped so close their noses touched. He could feel her breath. The light scent of perfume was intoxicating. She reached down and touched his erection, stoking the fire. “I know what you drink, but I don’t know how you like it.”
“Any way you serve it,” Luke said, his voice deep, throaty, and bedroom. He knew he should hit the road but stood transfixed.
Roxy took his hand, squeezed it, and led him to the queen-size bunk in the rear of the cabin. “Get comfortable.”
She stepped into the galley, poured two glasses of Scotch, neat, kicked off her slipper shoes, and glided barefoot to the bed, handing Luke his drink. They clinked and each took a deep sip, never breaking eye contact.
Roxy set her glass down, slowly unbuttoned her blouse, and shrugged out of it, revealing sheer perfection. A dancer’s body. Compact upright breasts, a narrow sculpted waist, and a sapphire-pierced belly button. She tossed the blouse onto the chair Luke had been sitting in, leaned over him, and unbuckled his belt more roughly than he would have expected.
Luke might have received a reality check, but by the time his cell phone buzzed in his pants pocket, they were hanging over the chair.
“You’re not upset?” he said, a statement of fact.
“You should’ve called first, but it was inevitable. It was perfect the first time. We work too hard for no pleasure. Roll over, I’m good with my hands.”
No argument from Luke, who pulled off his gray crewneck and tossed it on the chair. He eased onto his stomach carefully because he was sporting a blazing hard-on.
Roxy was fully engaged. She lit a candle, then raked his back with her fingernails, the brief contact from her nipples as she leaned over him burning a trail from his neck down to his waist. As she straddled Luke, he felt her heat and let out a husky groan.
Roxy started on his lower back and slowly worked her way up his spine, compressing with thumbs and forefingers every third vertebrae until she reached his neck.
“You are good,” he murmured.
By the time Luke realized cold steel was pressed against the back of his head and not her thumbs, he was dead.
The explosion of the hammer striking the .22 round in her derringer created a blinding electric flash behind Luke’s eyes. The bullet rattled around his skull, tearing up brain matter, until his world turned pitch-black.
Roxy jumped off the bed, grabbed a plastic garbage bag out of the galley, pulled it over Luke’s head, and cinched it around his neck to catch any blood evidence. She picked up her cell and hit Speed Dial.
“Trent. We’ve got a situation,” and Roxy gave him the rapid-fire shorthand version while she rifled through Luke’s pants and billfold, her voice devoid of emotion. Her body vibrated uncontrollably as adrenaline coursed through her nervous system. She dropped Luke’s keys and willed her hands to stop shaking as she placed his cell phone and the flash drive next to her laptop. “I’ll clean things up on the home front, you keep your ears open and get a feel for the play at your end. Stay on shift—Shut the fuck up and let me talk!” And then in a tight whisper, “I killed a man, okay? I’ve had better nights. Okay, okay, but only text if you sense movement in our direction.” Roxy was unraveling. “You won’t hear from me again until, until, shit, Trent, until I call you.”
Roxy snapped out the light and walked over to the door and tried to still her breathing as she sucked in the thick sea air and listened for any movement on the dock. Water lapping against hulls and nylon lines clanking on aluminum masts were the only early-morning sounds. If not for the dead body lying on her bunk, it would almost be peaceful.
Roxy got down on her hands and knees and scrabbled around until she came up with the keys she’d dropped. She sat on the edge of the bed and made a mental list of what she had to accomplish. Sucked in a breath, nodded, and went into action.
Roxy pulled the duvet cover over Luke’s body and changed into jeans and black T-shirt and black running shoes. She grabbed a pair of thin cotton gloves and shrugged into Trent’s oversize black hoodie.
She rifled through the junk drawer and pulled out a roll of blue painter’s tape, took a credit card and the cash out of Luke’s wallet and added it to her own, and ran out of the catamaran, locking the door behind her.

About the Author
John Lansing
Bestselling author John Lansing started his career as an actor in New York City. He spent a year at the Royale Theatre performing the lead in the Broadway production of Grease, before putting together a rock ‘n’ roll band and playing the iconic club CBGB.
John closed up his Tribeca loft and headed for the West coast where he landed a co-starring role in George Lucas's More American Graffiti and guest-starred on numerous television shows.
During his fifteen-year writing career, Lansing wrote and produced Walker Texas Ranger, co-wrote two CBS Movies of the Week, and co-executive produced the ABC series Scoundrels.
John's first book was Good Cop, Bad Money, a true crime tome he co-wrote with former NYPD Inspector Glen Morisano.
The Devil's Necktie, his first Jack Bertolino novel, became a bestseller on Barnes & Noble and hit #1 in Amazon’s Kindle store in the Crime Fiction genre. Jack Bertolino returns in John’s latest novel, The Fourth Gunman, the fourth book in his detective series.
A native of Long Island, John now resides in Los Angeles.

Giveaway
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card.

Links

Monday, January 22, 2018

"Natural Thorn Killer" by Kate Dyer-Seeley

NEW RELEASE and GIVEAWAY
Natural Thorn Killer
(A Rose City Mystery Book 1)
by Kate Dyer-Seeley

Natural Thorn Killer (A Rose City Mystery Book 1) by Kate Dyer-Seeley

Natural Thorn Killer, the first book in the new Rose City Mystery series by Kate Dyer-Seeley, is due for release on 27 March but is currently available for pre-order. This book blast and giveaway is brought to you by Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours. Please be sure to visit the other participating blogs as well.


For another book by this author, writing as Ellie Alexander, please check out my blog post on A Crime of Passion Fruit.

Description
Cut down among the flowers ...
Britta Johnston might be a late bloomer, but after leaving her deadbeat husband and dead-end job, she’s finally pursuing her artistic passion at her aunt Elin’s floral boutique, Blooma, in Portland, Oregon. It’s on the banks of the Willamette, in a quaint district of cobblestone paths and cherry trees. The wine bar featuring Pacific Northwest vintages is a tasty bonus, offering another kind of bouquet to enjoy. But things aren’t as peaceful as they look.
For one thing, someone’s been leaving dead roses around - and a sleazy real estate developer who wants the waterfront property has put a big-money offer on the table. Then, after a contentious meeting of local business owners, he’s found on the floor of the shop, with Elin’s garden shears planted in his chest. And before the police decide to pin the crime on her beloved aunt, Britta will have to find out who arranged this murder ...

About the Author
Kate Dyer-Seeley (aka Ellie Alexander)
Kate Dyer-Seeley (aka Ellie Alexander) writes multiple mystery series, all with a Pacific Northwest touch. She lives in the PNW with her husband and son, where you can find her hitting the trail, at an artisan coffee shop, or at her favorite pub. Better yet—at all three.





Giveaway
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a copy of Natural Thorn Killer by Kate Dyer-Seeley (US only).

Links