Showing posts with label series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label series. Show all posts

Thursday, May 24, 2018

"How to Catch a Magical" by Samuel Thews


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
How to Catch a Magical
(Andromeda Nyx Book 1)
by Samuel Thews

How to Catch a Magical (Andromeda Nyx Book 1) by Samuel Thews

How to Catch a Magical by Samuel Thews is currently on tour with I Am A Reader. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


Description
If you want to catch a Magical, you have to go about it the right way.
You have to have the right tools, the right training, a certain disregard for danger and a flair for the dramatic. Oh, and it helps if you inherit your father’s wicked bounty hunter skills, which give you superhuman reflexes and senses.
It’s really hard without the last one.
Andromeda Nyx has all the skills to be a successful bounty hunter. But after five years of training and catching nothing but Flinks - the lowest-level Magicals, the kind that think it’s funny to steal just one sock from a pair and hide it somewhere in the garden - she’s itching for bigger game. When her mentor says going out on her own to catch a Sprite is too risky, she decides to freelance. When the Sprite she catches turns out to be a messenger, Nyx is chosen as an ambassador for the bounty hunters and must travel to the decrepit world of the Magicals, Himnara.
While there, she is informed of a plot by Arcanus Emerson Kain - the leader of a rogue sect of Magicals - to invade Earth for a seemingly bizarre purpose: he wants to steal people. Along with her mentor Ridge, Nyx must find a way to stop Kain before his power becomes too great.

Excerpt
There was a horrible gurgling sound and then the train lurched into motion. The jolt threw me back and my head smacked against the seatback. The rusty wheels squeaked and banged, the car bouncing every time one of the gaps in the wheels rolled over the tracks.
But something was wrong. We weren’t going back into the tunnel. We were headed towards the cave opening.
“Umm, Ridge …” I said, but he had already seen it. His huge hairy knuckles gripped the edge of the seat in front of us.
Okay. What could possibly happen? Obviously the Magicals had made this train. Perhaps it would go across a hidden track to the other side of the canyon—or maybe it was able to fly.
Wrong.
The train went right off the edge of the tracks, doing a smashing impersonation of a lemming, and plummeted down into the gorge like a stone.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“Samuel Thews writes a rousing tale of magic, bounty hunters and war. I suspect that I like my teenage heroines to always be confident and either compassionate and positive, or cynical, violent and jaded. […] Andromeda is a complex character, as are her Father and some of the others in the story. My favorites, outside of Andromeda, was Whitchurch. He was a charming, crazy and wild old bounty hunter that Andromeda meets in an enemy prison. Between his wit, his skills, his experience, his brilliance and his caring, he is just a wonderful person. The nude fishing and other zany things make him a bit crazy.” ~ Kindle Customer
“Again, Samuel hits a home run! This book is a wonderful read. It's a good book for the whole family. It is well crafted and I can't wait for him to write another one! I'm looking forward to seeing what he comes up with next.” ~ Jil
“Excellent read - well written and completely original. The author quickly hooked me with the fast paced adventure featuring a strong, well rounded heroine as the main character. This book brought to mind some of my favorite stories like Harry Potter and Artemis Fowl - without leaving me with the feeling that the author was trying to ride on anyone's coat tails. I can't wait for Andromeda Nyx's next adventure.” ~ Amazon Customer

About the Author
Samuel Thews
Samuel Thews has been writing stories since he was old enough to hold a pencil. As a child, he reveled in the stories of C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Brian Jacques, and other fantasy authors. A life-long reader, he is a fan of J. K. Rowling, Neil Gaiman, and mystery author M. C. Beaton. He has also read Les Misérables not once, but twice. Unabridged, of course.
Although his educational background is in science and law, it is still the magical and fantastical that excites him. He enjoys writing stories for his daughters, who will hear one bedtime tale and ask that it be turned into a book. Writing with a whimsical style, he seeks to evoke the light, refreshing reading experience found in fairy tales and cozy mysteries.
A native of North Carolina, he currently lives in a rural part of Orange County with his wife, three children, and their ever-growing menagerie.

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


Links

Monday, May 21, 2018

"Monsterland Reanimated" by Michael Okon


GUEST POST and EXCERPT
Monsterland Reanimated
(Monsterland Book 2)
by Michael Okon

Monsterland Reanimated (Monsterland Book 2) by Michael Okon

Monsterland Reanimated is the second book in the Monsterland series by Michael Okon. Also available: Monsterland (read my blog post).

Monsterland by Michael Okon

Monsterland Reanimated is currently on tour with Bewitching Book Tours. The tour stops here today for a guest post by the author and an excerpt. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


Description
After Monsterland has imploded, the entire world is thrown into chaos. World leadership is gone, economies have collapsed, and communications are non-existent. Wyatt must go beyond the boundaries of his small town to reestablish contact with the outside world and alert the government about a traitor-in-chief.
During his journey he discovers a new threat released from the bowels of the defunct theme park.
When an army of relentless mummies, a life-sucking ooze called The Glob, and a hybrid reanimated Behemoth rise from the depths of Monsterland, who will survive?


Book Video


Excerpt
Chapter 1
The Night After the Monsterland Catastrophe
A bright moon painted the desert’s surface pewter. Here and there, dark spots soiled the landscape like oil spills. Most of the bodies had been taken before the troops were ordered to leave. They carted away the corpses, bulldozing the zombies into mass graves, until radios chirped with urgent orders deploying the soldiers to the bigger threats that erupted in the main cities like a chain of angry volcanos.
Monsterland was extinguished, its carcass left for the vultures to pick, the exhibits silent as a tomb.
The dead president and his equally dead entourage were whisked away on Air Force One, along with the dark-clad special operatives that came and left like the brisk desert wind that now howled through the empty streets.
A gate screamed in the silence, slamming with a reverberating smash. The uneven gait of someone with a physical challenge filled the void. The scrape and plod of his limp echoed against the wall of mountains framing the theme park. His labored breathing huffed as he made his way down the streets.
A door creaked loudly as it was blown by the wind. He stopped, his distorted figure silhouetted in the pale moonlight, his body turning silver. He looked at the broken glass littering the pavement like diamonds, then up to the still, pre-dawn sky. He considered the sun peeking over the jagged horizon in the east, its golden light painting the dips and hollows of the hills. Soon the coming day would chase the darkness away.
Time was the enemy now. He had to move faster, or it would be too late. He picked up his pace, lurching along the winding road. A keening howl ricocheted through the streets, bouncing off the walls. It sounded like a ... no, he thought, it couldn’t be. The werewolves were all dead. Destroyed by Vincent Konrad when he made their heads explode.
The old man paused, listening for it again, and was not disappointed when the animal whimpered. He gauged it to be inside the defunct vampire exhibit. He moved toward the entrance. The storefronts had been destroyed. A few body parts lay on the pavement, as if people had discarded them in a rush. He heard the scraping of paws on the street and a shiver went down his crooked spine.
He knew the werewolves were dead; he had seen it with his own eyes. A figure detached from the shadows. Igor flattened himself against the wall. He watched it move stealthily down the street, stopping when it scavenged a morsel of rotting flesh. It looked up to stare at Igor, its eyes glowing in the darkness.
A coyote? He waved a hand, dismissing it. It had to be a coyote; it was too small to be a wolf, too big to be a dog. The beast twitched its ears, then resumed its meal.
Igor knew the coyote was not a threat, and he continued his mission. His lame foot hit a can, sending a cacophony of sound like an explosion in the deserted park. The beast dropped the bone it was gnawing on, sniffing the area. Its iridescent eyes searched the streets.
It could be a baby wolf, Igor thought, keeping himself as still as possible. He felt it watching him, even from this distance. It was not a threat, yet.
Igor skittered away, hugging the walls of Monsterland, putting as much distance as he could between them. Not an easy feat, considering his distorted hips. He muttered to himself about carrion and the wind. His eyes darted nervously, scouring the hills, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His heart pounded so loudly he was certain that the creature watching him could hear it too.
His feet stumbling to a halt, he bent over, gasping for air, cursing Vincent and those meddlesome teenagers, as well as the rest of the world.
The beast gave another mournful howl that went right through him. Igor glanced at his empty hands, berating himself for not bringing a weapon. He searched his surroundings for anything to protect himself.
Then he saw it, one of the axes they had on almost every corner. All of them had been pulled from their protective cases. One was lying in a pool of coagulating blood, the blade long gone. He picked up the broken axe handle, turning in a semicircle. He was ready for an attacker.
A new, larger outline made his heart quiver with fear. It crouched in a corner, its snout covered with blood. This one was bigger, not a coyote, a wild wolf. Wait, he thought. Weren’t the gray wolves of California all but extinct?
Igor narrowed his eyes. The beast was a light reddish brown and not the silver gray of a wolf’s pelt. A chain hung from its neck, the pendant of a werewolf’s head dangling, emerald eyes flashing. What was it? Was it a mutant coyote? A wolf? Some weird hybrid, he wondered for a minute, his breath harsh in his ears. They watched each other soundlessly.
A hybrid then. He’d heard about them, a rare mixture of wolf and coyote. What did they call them? Coywolves ...? or was it Woyotes? He shrugged indifferently. Perhaps someone’s pet, he decided. Igor’s mirthless laugh came out like a snort.
The coywolf stood still, its ears alert, its head cocked as if it was observing him.
Igor dropped the makeshift weapon, calling out, “Eat the rest of your meal, you dumb beast.”
The animal continued to watch him, its two front paws on the remains of a zombie’s chest.
Igor wiped his forehead, waiting, his eyes coming back to search the village, confirming it was empty, except for the carrion eaters like the coyotes and vultures. He looked up, noting the circling predators waiting for him to move on.
“Interrupted your meal,” he chuckled. Just the local scavengers looking for food. That was all; the shadows revealed nothing else. Satisfied he was alone, he moved on. He had work to do.
A paper flew past him, hitting a kiosk as the wind plastered it against its surface. It flapped like a dying bird. Igor reached over, taking the fluttering paper, peering at the map of the park, the one they gave people as they entered Monsterland. A bark of laughter escaped his mouth.
He looked up at the giant monolith that was once the Werewolf River Run, its hulking shape obscuring the horizon. “You are here,” he giggled, pointing a grimy finger on the paper’s surface. He dragged his deformed body further down the pavement. The storefronts that used to be Monsterland’s Main Street yawned vacantly, the wind whistling through the narrow alleyways. “Now, you are here,” he laughed. Shouting, he listened to the sound of his voice bouncing off the blood-splattered walls.
He made his way to the back end of the zombie village, feeling like the last man on earth. He glanced around at the desolate landscape. His home, the beautiful theme park, was little more than ruins destroyed by the army.
His nose twitched from the fetid smell of rot. The US Army had massacred the zombies. The troops came like a force of nature wiping out everything in its path, every last one of them blown away by the troops.
They were black ops, special forces, he knew from their uniforms. He wondered if things were indeed going as planned. He shrugged, knowing right now nothing mattered except for what he had to do. The irony that he was just about the most important man on earth brought more amusement to his smile.
The local police force was gone, as were the leaders of most countries in the world. He knew all was chaos outside, perhaps even war, each nation blaming the next for the loss of their leadership. Not to worry, he thought. Vincent left America in capable hands.
Dreams do come true, he snickered. Nightmares too, he finished the thought. A long line of drool pulled at his lower lip. He paused at a pothole in the road, decomposing body parts glistening, the disappearing moon turning the bits of bone and brains pearly.
Anxiety bloomed in his chest as he passed the opaque windows of Vincent’s derelict Monsterland hotel, the Copper Valley Inn. He hated that place. Abandoned construction vehicles were frozen in their spots, testimony to the hotel’s unfinished business.
Despite the pastel colors of its exterior, it sat like an ominous crypt to the part of the theme park that Vincent could never control. Told Vincent it was a money pit. Crews couldn’t work because ... well, it didn’t matter anymore. The help was all dead. He thought he saw a light flicker in the window, but when he turned, he realized it was nothing more than a sputtering gas lamp that had never been disconnected.
He stood for a while, staring for more activity, and then jerked with the realization that he waited too long and wasted precious time. Surely no one expected him to go searching during the heat of battle.
Vincent said it was enough time to set up the timetable. Vincent knew everything, and Igor felt his panic ebb. It had been barely twenty-four hours since the attack. For all he knew, he could be on a fool’s errand.
He pressed his hand on his hip, his back screaming with resentment at so much movement. He was not used to any exercise. He sighed, wiping his brow with the ragged end of his costume, the lace scratching his skin. He caught the cuff, snagging the material with his teeth, tugging it free from his velvet jacket. He loathed the show and was glad he’d never have to endure the humiliation of performing again, especially with the vamps. Those condescending, blood-sucking parasites. He wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore, he thought with satisfaction. Vincent had promised he’d not have to endure them for long, living up to his part of the bargain quite nicely. They were gone, torn apart by the werewolves or transformed into a tasty dinner by the zombies. Either way, they wouldn’t be bullying him with their nasty insults. Something buzzed around him, and he swiped at it.
It felt as though he walked to the other side of the earth. Why Vincent had to pick Zombieville to make his last stand, he’d never know. The Werewolf River Run would have been much more convenient. It was getting lighter now, and he could easily make out the smoking devastation.
He searched the horizon, his eyes resting on the burnt wreckage of a golf cart, the torched skeleton listing at an odd angle.
Pulling his lame foot, he pushed himself as fast as his body could travel, his breath hitching with the effort.
The corpse was gone. He knew they would have taken that for DNA testing, proof that the enemy was vanquished. The only things left were the putrid carcasses from Monsterland, the decaying zombies, massacred vampires, and what was left of the werewolves after Vincent had exterminated them.
He climbed a small hill, his bad leg screaming with pain. Igor crowed with triumph when he saw it, the discarded lump of flesh, lying forgotten in a ditch, face down. He shivered as the desert wind stirred and eddied around him. Damn, but it was desolate here.
He hunkered down, forcing himself to skitter on the hard-packed earth. He wondered what his son, the vice president—no, he corrected himself, the new president of the United States, Mr. Nate Owens—would think of his father now, scrambling like a dung beetle in the dirt.
He cursed. The drool was back, dripping from his mouth like a sparkling spider web. Instead of rising—it was beyond him at this point—he shimmied over to the severed head, reaching forward, reverently, grabbing it by the matted hair, and grasping it to his chest.
The black eyes stared back dully, the dark depths reflecting the hunchback’s twisted smile.
Vincent Konrad’s lifeless face lay in his hands, the pale lips open in a soundless scream.
“I’m so happy I could kiss you, Vincent!” he told the decapitated head. He cradled the face of his friend. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
The moon bathed the face a pale blue. The hunchback jiggled the dead weight, cackling with delight as the one papery eyelid drooped as if it were winking.
In the distance, that coywolf howled, making Igor suck in his breath with fear. He tucked the head under his arm as he struggled back up the small hill, mumbling something about Plan B.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“I had not read the first Monsterland novel, but really it is not necessary to have done so before reading Monsterland Reanimated. Author Michael Okon gives us the backstory very well as events unfold in the new story. I would never have believed a novel about zombies, shape-shifters, and monsters in general would captivate me quite the way this one did and that is a real credit to the author. I found his writing style and dark humour, with some subtle and not so subtle pop culture references, to be immensely enjoyable to read.” ~ Grant Leishman for Readers’ Favorite
Monsterland Reanimated: Monsterland Series Volume 2 by Michael Okon is a gritty and raw horror novel that does the genre justice. Fast-paced, intense and actually giving me goosebumps, Monsterland Reanimated works with elements that may seem to be too much, but the author somehow makes them work brilliantly together. Superbly crafted, Monsterland Reanimated is a nail biter that I just didn't want to put down.” ~ Rabia Tanveer for Readers' Favorite
Monsterland Reanimated features a riveting plot and an arresting narrative voice that combines with the exciting dialogues to create a reading experience that is perfect for fans of horror. This is an engrossing read with conflict and suspense that will keep readers turning the pages. An electrifying read!” ~ Romuald Dzemo for Readers' Favorite
“Careful thought and consideration have gone into each character and their own individual history and plot, adding to their depth and believability. There are some great action scenes which only serve to enhance a well-executed and conceived plot. The stakes have been raised and, as a reader, I find myself eagerly awaiting the next book in this imaginative and thrilling series.” ~ K.J. Simmill for Readers' Favorite
Monsterland Reanimated is not simply a fast paced action novel, but an experience. It is as if the reader is immersed into an entirely new world, not simply a story about a monster themed theme park, but rather transported into an alternate reality of a post apocalyptic world. Okon's detailed account is authentic, and told in a matter of fact narrative, that makes the reader almost believe this is a true account of events that could possibly happen, given the right circumstances.” ~ Patricia “Lemon Bee” Dompieri, RN
“This fast-paced thriller will keep readers in suspense as the action dramatically unfolds. Sure to delight fans of dystopian fiction, science fiction and horror, Monsterland Reanimated is a worthy second installment in the Monsterland series.” ~ The Children's Book Review


Guest Post by the Author
Writing a Sequel
Someone just told me recently that sequels are poison. They said that you never capture the magic of the first story. I only agree with half of this. Yes, most sequels, I will put it bluntly, suck. The gelling you had in the first story never gets it right in the sequel. I just watched Kung Fu Panda 1, 2, and 3 with my kids – not by myself. The first one was a masterpiece. I was so invested in the characters and story. It was truly a brilliant film. Then we continued in parts 2 and 3, and I just couldn’t take it. They continued the story of Po the Kung Fu Panda, but the story simply fell flat, and tiresome. I didn’t care about the characters. The stories were boring, unlike the first film.
But then, on the flip side, let’s take Lord of the Rings. My all-time favorite trilogy of book and movie. I was invested in the characters throughout. This was not the case at all about the first story being amazing and the other two being terrible. All three stories were flawless and gelled together beautifully. There were setbacks. There was resolution. There was catharsis. It was flawless. When you’re writing a sequel, you want to continue the magic of the first, but set the characters in a new environment and give them bigger and worse obstacles to overcome. The battle in The Fellowship of the Ring was pretty intense. But set the same characters and put them in Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers, and BAM! You elevated the storytelling.
I did this in my Monsterland series. In the first book, Monsterland, we have Wyatt, Howard Drucker, and Melvin navigating a theme park gone haywire with real werewolves, vampires, and zombies. However, in the sequel Monsterland Reanimated, the teens have to defeat an army of mummies during a speeding car chase, a life-sucking ooze called The Glob in a desolate town, and a reanimated behemoth in a hedge maze (thank you for the inspiration, Stanley Kubrick). Sequels are all about elevation and making the enemies bigger and badder. The bigger the obstacle, the bigger the reward for your characters. They have to come out changed in a sequel. They cannot come out unscathed. Frodo lost a finger trying to throw the ring into Mount Doom. Characters must get hurt so they can change.
I’m currently working on Monsterland 3, and I’m going even bigger. I will not succumb to the notion that writing a sequel is poison. From the words of Tony Robbins, success leaves clues. I am following in the footsteps of the master storytellers who can weave a story together in a sequel … that doesn’t suck.

About the Author
Michael Okon
Michael Okon is an award-winning and best-selling author of multiple genres including paranormal, thriller, horror, action/adventure and self-help. He graduated from Long Island University with a degree in English, and then later received his MBA in business and finance. Coming from a family of writers, he has storytelling in his DNA. Michael has been writing from as far back as he can remember, his inspiration being his love for films and their impact on his life. From the time he saw The Goonies, he was hooked on the idea of entertaining people through unforgettable characters.
Michael is a lifelong movie buff, a music playlist aficionado, and a sucker for self-help books. He lives on the North Shore of Long Island with his wife and children.

Links

Thursday, May 17, 2018

"The Gift of Love" by Delaney Cameron


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
The Gift of Love
(Finding Love Book 9)
by Delaney Cameron

The Gift of Love (Finding Love Book 9) by Delaney Cameron

The Gift of Love is the ninth book in the Finding Love series by Delaney Cameron. This book blast and giveaway is organized by I Am A Reader.


Description
Leah didn’t plan to still be searching for love so late in her twenties. Her looks almost guaranteed her success with the opposite sex, but quantity doesn’t mean quality. Good thing she’s got a great career to fall back on. The only dark cloud on that particular horizon is the enigmatic Dr. Levy, the man she’s come to think of as a permanent thorn in her side. Brilliant and handsome he most certainly is, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s also stern, impatient, and bad-tempered. Oddly enough, it isn’t their mostly negative encounters that linger in her mind. Instead it’s the sadness she glimpses from time to time in his face. There’s no explanation for why she’s so bothered by this, nor can she imagine a situation where she’ll be in a position to discover the cause of his silent misery. All of which means she’s wasting her time. If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Dr. Levy.
Stratton had only been at Hutchison Clinic a short time before he heard about the beautiful nurse on the second floor. In his usual skeptical fashion he discounted the gossip until he saw Leah for himself. He had no problem admitting that the reports of her beauty hadn’t been exaggerated, but appreciation was as far as he was prepared to go. Love, romance and the so-called happily-ever-after only exist in the movies. Putting your happiness in someone else’s hands is just begging to be hurt. He has a monthly alimony payment to prove it. Getting his family and friends to understand his preference for bachelorhood isn’t so easy. While he appreciates their concern, he doesn’t need the complication of something with such overwhelming odds of failure. One ex-wife is enough for any man.

Excerpt
Leah walked out the side door of the house and didn’t look back. She’d known going to this party would be a mistake. What had she expected? This is what happens when you’re dumb enough to go on a trip with three other girls, only one of whom you’re reasonably acquainted with.
A shudder went through her that had nothing to do with the coolness of the night air. It had everything to do with being around guys who don’t understand what ‘no’ means. She wasn’t going to spend the rest of the evening hiding in the bathroom. The cabin belonging to Jessie’s parents that overlooked Lake Oconee was only a few miles away. She could be there in an hour if she walked fast.
It was strange that she felt safer on a lonely road than in a house full of people. She’d always been afraid of the dark; now it seemed like a haven. A sweater would have been nice, but then again, she hadn’t expected to be returning from this adventure on foot. Not bringing the right clothes was the least of the mistakes she’d made lately, but thankfully the end of this disastrous weekend was in sight. By tomorrow evening, she’d be back in Myrtle Beach.
The flash of a set of powerful headlights had her groaning inwardly. She moved off the road and reached in her pocket for her phone. Please don’t stop, she pleaded inside her head. In spite of this silent request, the profile of a truck pulled alongside her followed by the ominous low whine of the window sliding down. Great! This was just what she needed to make this terrible night complete.
“Excuse me, miss,” said the last voice she expected to hear. “Do you need a ride?”
Of all people, why did it have to be him? Was she ever going to be in a situation with this man that wasn’t embarrassing? At least he hadn’t recognized her yet. Hopefully, she could keep it that way. Not looking at him, she lowered her voice before replying, “No, thanks.”
“Are you sure?” his deep voice persisted.
“Very sure. My house is the next driveway.”
Dr. Levy laughed and for some reason Leah’s heart began to beat faster. She quickly found a reason for this anomaly. She’d never heard him laugh before. She’d even entertained the thought that he’d forgotten how. Like everything else about him, it was hard to ignore.
“That’s quite a coincidence,” he was saying. “My house is the next driveway, too.”
She might as well give up. This just wasn’t her night. “That figures. I can’t even get away with a lie these days.”
“There’s no need to lie. It’s just common sense.” He leaned across the console and opened the door. With the aid of the dome light, she was able to confirm his identity. She couldn’t decide if it was the absence of the formal attire he wore at work or his ruffled hair that made him appear so much younger and (dare she say it) approachable. Her glance dipped lower, taking in the corded muscles in his arms and chest straining against the material of a long-sleeve t-shirt. Yowza! If the nursing staff at Hutchison’s could see him now… His voice brought her eyes back to his face.
“Leah! What a surprise! I didn’t expect to find you so far away from home.”
That made two of them. “I’m, uh, spending the weekend with friends.”
“Who have apparently left you high and dry. Hop in, and I’ll give you a ride to wherever you’re staying.”
“Are you sure? I hate to take you out of your way.”
He smiled lazily, and this time Leah’s heart actually jumped in her chest. Could shock cause that?
“Let me worry about that.”
Feeling as if she’d stumbled into some kind of twilight zone, she climbed into the truck and reached for the seatbelt. “The address is 48 River Knoll.”
He shook his head in what she assumed was disbelief. “You were planning to walk that far?”
“It was better than staying where I was. Is your house really the next driveway?”
“I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. My uncle left me a small cabin on the lake.” He pulled back on the road. “You picked a good time to visit this area. The dogwood trees are at their peak right now.”
Leah forced herself to relax against the seat. “That’s the main reason I came on this trip. Spring is my favorite time of year.”
“Mine, too. Are you from Myrtle Beach originally?”
“No. I grew up in Columbus, Georgia.”
He sent her a quick sideways glance. “You don’t say? I’m from Stone Mountain, which means we’re both Georgians. That must count for something.”
“I guess it does. You can drop me off by the mailbox.”
“I don’t drop off passengers at the mailbox, and in case you haven’t noticed, it’s pitch dark outside. We don’t need you tripping over something.”
Leah lapsed into silence. There was no point in arguing. This somewhat surreal experience would be over soon enough. A few minutes later he drew to a stop in the shadow of the porch.
“Here we are.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and fumbled for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride, Dr. Levy.”
He threw her the same amused smile he’d done on those previous occasions. “You’re welcome, Leah. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
She barely suppressed a shudder. There had been little enjoyment so far and having Dr. Levy find her in such a predicament hadn’t helped.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“This book is so good, I couldn’t put it down!! It is a story of love, heartbreak and forgiveness, all told in such a beautiful way you get caught up in Leah and Stratton’s life and love. A good series and this is the best one.” ~ Joyeli3, Amazon reviewer
“The journey that Ms. Cameron takes us on with Stratton and Leah was simply amazing. This book brought up several emotions for me. I loved every bit of this book just like I’ve enjoyed every one of her books.” ~ J. Simpson, Amazon reviewer
“I loved this story. Absolutely fantastic. Loved the characters, the setting, the drama and conclusion this book has. You will love this book from opening to closing. You can’t go wrong. The story is awesome. Ms. Cameron is an excellent author. I can’t stress it enough … Read It!” ~ SCBooklover, Amazon reviewer

About the Author
Delaney Cameron
I’m a Georgia girl at heart if not by birth. I love to read, watch college football, and spend time with my husband. I’m a hopeless romantic so there will always be a happily ever after in my stories. I also like to write about second chances because love doesn’t always work out the first time.
My books are sweet romances set in both contemporary and regency settings featuring stories about the journey to love, from that first meeting to the point where two people know their hearts are no longer their own. My characters aren’t perfect. They make mistakes and have faults like the rest of us. They learn the sometimes painful truth that the path to love isn’t always smooth, but it’s a road worth traveling.

Also by the author:

Giveaway
Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card or PaylPal cash.

Links