Saturday, May 31, 2014

Release Blitz: Bite & Release by Cory Cyr!



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Synopsis
Ryan Chase left Fairbanks, Alaska, when she was 21 years old to pursue her dream of becoming an actress. Somewhere along the way her dreams of stardom crashed and burned, along with her life.
Thirteen years later she is forced to return to Fairbanks because her unforgiving and emotionally-distant father has suddenly died. Ryan seizes the opportunity to not only escape her abusive husband but to be able to attend her best friend's wedding. What could go wrong? It's only Fairbanks, Alaska... While wishing she was anywhere but her father's funeral and wake, Ryan is struck senseless by a stunning, drop-dead gorgeous man. Her thoughts turn carnal and she desperately wants to know him in every way—and position—possible. There's only one problem...
He's the devil's spawn. He's the one who marked her for life. He's the kid she used to baby-sit. And he's hotter than hell!
Shea Michaels has loved Ryan Chase for most of his life. After surviving an unspeakable childhood, he became a man of whom she could be proud of...if she ever came back. Now that she's returned, Shea pursues her with a vengeance, undaunted by the thirteen year age difference that Ryan uses as the shield between them.
Confusion, guilt and lust bombard Ryan as she battles the memories of the little boy she used to know while still being drawn to the heart-stopping man he has become.






Teaser



Cory Author Pic


I began writing music and poetry at an early age. My love of music became my sole focus and I spent quite a few years as the lead singer for many local rock bands. In high school I was fascinated with the macabre and started writing science fiction and horror stories so dark they earned me the nickname "Gory Cory." After years of writing dark tales, I never thought in a million years my first two finished manuscripts would be Adult Romance. Bite & Release will be the first book published sometime in late May/early June and Reviving Haven; my second book will be released at the end of July. The themes of both books are older women/younger men and are for 18+ due to language, sexual situations and subject matter. Both are stand alone with no cliffhanger.

You can find me:

Facebook: Cory Cyr

Twitter:@coryauthor

Pinterest & Goodreads



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Thursday, May 29, 2014

Book Blitz: Take Care, Sara by Lindy Zart!


Title: Take Care, Sara
Author: Lindy Zart   
Genre: Inspirational Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours

You breathe in, you breathe out, and everything you know is gone.
Sara Walker knows firsthand what it feels like to have your reality ripped away, scrambled, and shoved back at you in an undone puzzle where pieces are missing and nothing fits. She's lost so much and is struggling to live and to find the strength to forgive herself for being human. With the help of Lincoln, her husband's brother, Sara realizes it's not about finding who she used to be, but about finding who she is now.
You breathe in, you breathe out, and everything you know isn't gone, but reborn.



Lindy Zart has been writing since she was a child. Luckily for readers, her writing has improved since then. She lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two sons, and one cat. Lindy loves hearing from people who enjoy her work.
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“Remember the day on the river when we went tubing a few summers back?”
Sara shifted the gear from reverse to forward, eyes darting over cars and trucks in the immediate vicinity. “Yes. What about it?” She stalled at the stop sign, not wanting to go at the same time another vehicle intended to. A horn honked and she jumped, glancing in the rearview mirror at the large white truck behind her.
“I think it’s your turn to go,” he said dryly.
The truck crept forward. Lincoln laughed, which caused her face to burn, but Sara ignored him, concentrating on driving.
“Remember how Cole was determined to knock us off the tube?”
The sun was burning down on them. The inner tube bobbed up and down in the small waves made by other boats, splashing warm brown river water on her. Sara smelled seaweed and sand, the faint scent of fish in the air. She was on her stomach, one arm under Lincoln’s hard chest, the other pulled toward her with her and Lincoln’s arms crisscrossed over each other’s, both hands locked on the handles. Her lifejacket dug into her ribs, slightly raised over her shoulders from the way she was laying.
Water glistened down his face as he turned his head to grin at her, his gray eyes sparkling silver in the sunlight. “Ready?”
Sara glanced up at the white and green pontoon boat and saw Cole watching her with a certain gleam in his crystal blue eyes. His light brown hair was streaked with gold from the sun, his body tanned and toned from working outdoors on an almost daily basis. A slow smile curved his lips, turning her into a fiery ball of need. Her eyes stayed locked with his, promises communicated back and forth. He winked at her.
You know he’s going to try to dump us, don’t you?”
I told him not to.” She glanced at Lincoln, saw his eyes were on her.
He still will. You know that, right?”
She locked her jaw, nodding. “I do.”
Cole laughed, raising his bottle of water in a salute and turning to the seat behind the dashboard of the boat.
Wrap your leg around mine.”
She shot him a look.
The boat started, a low purr filling the air.
He rolled his eyes. “I know you’d like any excuse to touch me and I really shouldn’t encourage your behavior, but unless you want to take a bath in the not so clean Mississippi, you’ll wrap your leg around mine.”
The boat started to move, gaining speed as it went.
Sara.” Without thinking, she edged closer to Lincoln, his muscled leg twining around hers. “Hang on,” he shouted as the boat slammed forward, the tube gliding along the river after it.
“You can pull over now.”
She blinked. Trees and rolling hills loomed ahead. They were almost in the country. Sara shook her head. “No. I’m okay.”
“Sure?”
“Yes. Just tell me where to go.”
He didn’t speak for a time, and then said, “Okay.”
“Why’d you bring that up?”
“What?”
“The river. Tubing.”
“It was the first thing I could think of to take your mind off driving. Did it help?”
She nodded, taking a slow breath. “Yes.”
“Good. Turn left up here. The first house on the right. It’s blue. See it?”
“I see it.”
“And we’re here.”
She turned the key and the engine went silent. Her taut nerves were slightly relaxed, her breathing close to normal. She let her hands drop to her lap, staring at the red barn to the left of the house. A chicken darted past as she watched.
“Way to go, Sara Lynne.” He gently slugged her shoulder with his fist.
She turned to him. “Why that memory?”
He shrugged, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I told you—”
“He dumped us. He dumped us and then I hit the water and was sucked down. My lifejacket got stuck on a limb underwater. I couldn’t get it loose and I was fighting to undo the lifejacket. I even thought maybe I would die.” She was breathing fast, the words stumbling from her lips.
“Sara—”
“You found me. Somehow. You got the lifejacket off me and you pulled me from the water. The boat was coming back around. Your arms were locked around me tight. You had to be tired, but you never let me go. He was frantic, hauling me up first, hugging me, kissing me, telling me he was sorry. You got into the boat, you spun him around, and you punched him in the face. Spencer and Gracie were there, on the boat. Spencer had to pull you off him. You shouted things.” She suddenly stopped, a lump in her throat. She couldn’t say anymore.
“I told him he was an idiot.”
Other things. You said other things too. But all she said was, “Right.”
“Ready to work?”
“Lead the way, boss.” She followed him as he crossed the yard to get to the house, but her mind was still stuck on that day.
You knew she didn’t want to be dumped! What the fuck were you thinking? She could have drowned. Fucking idiot,” Lincoln snapped and turned away from his brother, incalculable rage flashing in his eyes, stiffening his jaw.
Sara watched him storm to the back of the boat, ignoring Gracie when she tried to talk to him. She’d never seen him so furious before—never. Lincoln’s red plaid swim trunks were stuck to his legs like another layer of skin, his broad back taut. She was stunned by his reaction. Looking at Cole, she knew he was too.
Cole turned to her, his features tight. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I was just having some fun. You’re okay?”
She wiped water from her face, nodding. The outdoor carpet of the boat prickled her soft flesh and she moved to stand. “I’m okay.”
He helped her up, wrapping his arms around her. “If anything had happened to you—”
It didn’t,” she broke in, eyes on Lincoln. He stared out at the endless water, profile carved from stone. He’d isolated himself from the rest of them, as though he didn’t want their taint of irresponsibility near him, or maybe just his brother’s.
Because of Lincoln.”
Something in his tone made her glance at him, the flatness of it maybe. “Are you mad that he saved me?” Incredulity made her voice higher than it usually was.
He scowled, dropping his arms from her. “No.”
Well, that’s good, because the alternative was drowning.”
The scowl deepened. “I know. It’s just…I’m supposed to save you, not him. I’m supposed to be there for you, not him.”
You were too busy having fun driving the boat and trying to dump us,” she snapped.
I know. I’m an ass.”
Her anger faded at the look on her husband’s face. It was full of self-recrimination.
And proud.”
He nodded somberly. “That too.”
She felt herself soften toward him, as she always did. He looked so young, so pitiful. “I still love you.”
Cole looked up, flashing a grin brighter than the sun. “Good to know.”
But if I was dead, I wouldn’t.”
I’d still love you even if I was dead,” he retorted, trailing a hand along her hip and causing her to shiver.
Okay, you two, it’s fun watching you almost make out and everything, but can we get going?” Spencer asked from where he lounged on the seat, Gracie beside him.
Cole moved to captain the boat and Sara walked toward Lincoln. The boat lurched forward as it accelerated and she grabbed the ledge to steady herself. She adjusted the yellow swim shorts as she neared him, tightening the straps of the turquoise bikini top. He didn’t look at her as she approached, his cool gaze trained ahead.
Thank you,” she said quietly, sitting in the seat next to him.
Lincoln glanced at her. “I was scared out of mind, when you went under and I couldn’t see you. I—”
“Earth to Sara.” She ran into Lincoln’s chest, his hands steadying her as he set her back. “Sleepwalking again?”
She shrugged, her face burning. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.That’s what he’d said. She hadn’t wanted to think about what it could have or could not have meant at the time. She wasn’t inclined to think about it that much now either. And yet…why had he brought up that day? Was he trying to tell her something without telling her something? Was she looking into it too much? Did he want her to remember what he’d said? Did Lincoln remember what he’d said?
“Why that day?” she pressed. An icy sharp wind started, tousling her hair around her face. Sara impatiently pushed it behind her ears, not letting him look away.
His neck convulsed as he swallowed. But he didn’t look away. Lincoln’s eyes were zeroed in on hers, looking at her in a way that made pressure form in her chest. “That was the day things changed for me.”
“Meaning?”
He finally looked away, tapping a pad of paper against his thigh. “Do you remember what I said to you, after it happened?”
She wasn’t prone to lying. She didn’t like being lied to and she didn’t like doing it to others. He was so intense, so still as he waited, like what she said mattered astronomically to him. Lie, Sara. For him. For you. Lie.
She opened her mouth.


Blog Tour: The Luthier's Apprentice!


Title: The Luthier’s Apprentice
Author: Mayra Calvani         
Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours

Niccolò Paganini (1782-1840), one of the greatest violinists who ever lived and rumored to have made a pact with the devil, has somehow transferred unique powers to another…  
When violinists around the world mysteriously vanish, 16-year-old Emma Braun takes notice.  But when her beloved violin teacher disappears… Emma takes charge. With Sherlock Holmes fanatic, not to mention gorgeous Corey Fletcher, Emma discovers a parallel world ruled by an ex-violinist turned evil sorceress who wants to rule the music world on her own terms. 
But why are only men violinists captured and not women? What is the connection between Emma's family, the sorceress, and the infamous Niccolò Paganini?  
Emma must unravel the mystery in order to save her teacher from the fatal destiny that awaits him.  And undo the curse that torments her family—before evil wins and she becomes the next luthier's apprentice…



Award-winning author Mayra Calvani has penned over ten books for children and adults in genres ranging from picture books to nonfiction to paranormal fantasy novels. She’s had over 300 articles, short stories, interviews and reviews published in magazines such as The WriterWriter’s Journal and Bloomsbury Review, among others. A native of San Juan, Puerto Rico, she now resides in Brussels, Belgium.
Connect with the author on the Web:
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Chapter One

Brussels, Belgium
Present day

Sixteen-year old Emma Braun got off the school bus and strode down Stockel Square toward her home. She glanced up at the October sky and wrapped her wool scarf tighter around her neck. Heavy dark clouds threatened a downpour.  
As she passed a newspaper stand, the headlines on The Brussels Gazette caught her attention:
ANOTHER VIOLINIST VANISHES!
Emma stopped. For a moment she could only stare. She dug into her jacket pocket for coins and bought a copy.
The newspaper article left her stunned. Not only because three well-known violinists had gone missing in the last several months, but because the latest one was her teacher, Monsieur Dupriez.
The news story seemed so hard to believe, she stopped at the next street corner to read it one more time.
It was the last week of October, and the shops and homes were lightly adorned with Halloween decorations. Pumpkins and Jack-o-lanterns sat on doorsteps. Witches, broomsticks, and black cats hunkered down in windows and shops. Just last evening, Emma had sauntered along this street with her best friend Annika, unconcerned and looking forward to Halloween. Now, everything had turned dark and ominous.
The strange incidents she had experienced for the past two weeks added to her stress.
At first she had thought they were a string of coincidences, but not anymore. While scowling at obnoxious Billie Lynam during school recess, for instance, she wished he would fall flat on his face… and half a minute later, her wish was granted. On various occasions she guessed people’s thoughts before they spoke. And yesterday, on her way home from school, she accurately guessed the meal her mom had left on the table for her.
Was she some kind of a psychic? If so, why now? People didn’t develop powers like these overnight. Did they?
She hadn’t told her mom about her new abilities yet; only Annika knew. Maybe she would tell her mom today, after she shared the news about Monsieur Dupriez.
As Emma approached her home, she quickened her step. By the time she reached the door she was almost running. She raced into the hallway and dropped her book bag on the floor.
“Mom!” she called, looking in the kitchen, then in the living room. The house was silent. “Mom!” she called again, racing up the stairs to the bedrooms. Entering her mother’s room, Emma found her sitting very still on the bed with a crumpled letter in her hand.
When her mom saw her, she hastily put the crumpled piece of paper into her pocket and rose from the bed. Her arched brows were furrowed with anxiety.
Emma momentarily forgot the newspaper article. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’ve just received some unsettling news,” her mom said. “I must make a trip to see your Aunt Lili. She’s ill. She…I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
Aunt Lili? Emma frowned. More surprises. Emma had never met her mom’s eccentric only sister, who lived alone in the Hungarian mountains secluded in an old chateau surrounded by dark woods—or so her mom said. Though again, her mom hardly ever mentioned her.
“What’s wrong with Aunt Lili?” Emma asked. “Can’t I come with you?” She had always been intrigued by her mysterious aunt.
“No. You’ll stay with Grandpa. You enjoy working with him, don’t you?” Her brown eyes met Emma’s before turning away, and though her voice sounded matter-of-fact, Emma detected a trace of ambivalence.
Emma sighed. She loved violin making with a passion, but Grandpa was a bitter taskmaster. No matter how much she tried to please him, she never could. Maybe that’s why her mom often seemed so reluctant about her apprenticeship.
“I’d rather go with you,” Emma said. “Plus, next week is holiday.” All Saints holiday week—or Toussaint, as they called it here—almost always coincided with Halloween.
“That’s out of the question. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Besides, you can’t miss your violin lessons, not with the Christmas competition at the academy coming up soon.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Emma said gravely, extending the newspaper.
Her mom took it. “What’s this?”
“This is why I came running up the stairs.”
Her mom read the headlines. She gasped and looked at Emma. When she finished reading, she sat on the edge of the mattress and stared into space. “Oh, my God...” she whispered.
Emma sat next to her mom. “It says Monsieur Dupriez disappeared in his study. The doors and windows were locked from the inside. The police don’t have any explanation. How can this happen? It’s not logical. It’s not humanly possible.”
“No, not humanly possible…”
“Just like the other three—that German violinist, the French one, the American. Nobody has explained their disappearances. Who would want to kidnap violinists?” When her mom didn’t answer, she began to gnaw at her fingernail.
As if by reflex, her mom pulled Emma’s hand away from her mouth.
“Sorry,” Emma mumbled. “I’m just worried about him.”
“Poor Madame Dupriez. We must visit her. She must be in quite a state.”
“Can you call her now?”
Her mom sighed. “I will. In a moment.” She looked at Emma, her features softening. Gently, she smoothed Emma’s glossy chestnut locks and side fringe away from her face. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. You mustn’t be afraid.”
“Afraid? Why would I be afraid?”
“I mean, about Monsieur Dupriez.” Her mom appeared flustered.
“I’m not afraid. I’m worried, and angry. I want to find out what happened to him. Without him, I don’t even want to take part in the competition.”
Monsieur Dupriez had been Emma’s teacher since she was four years old. But more than teacher, he was her mentor.
“You will do your best at the competition—with or without Monsieur Dupriez. Do you hear me?” her mom said. Then her voice softened. “Listen, darling, I know how close you are to Monsieur Dupriez, but you cannot allow his disappearance to destroy your chances at the competition. I’m not asking you to win, only to do your best. You have great talent, a gift, and your duty is to use it to the best of your ability. Never forget this. Monsieur Dupriez would never want you to forget this.”
“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong with Aunt Lili,” Emma said, changing the conversation. “Why must you go to her now, after all these years?”
Looking into Emma’s face, her mom hesitated, as if unable to decide what—or how much—to say. “You know she’s always been ill, a recluse. She…” She rose from the bed and walked to the window, then opened the curtain. It had started raining, the drops pelted against the glass. “This time it’s serious. She may die.”
Emma couldn’t help feeling a twinge of suspicion. She hated distrusting her mom, whom she loved more than anything in the world, but this time her mom was lying. Emma trusted that feeling, another of her freaky new abilities. She felt an overwhelming urge to chew her fingernails, but tried to control herself. For her mom, a violinist’s hands were a work of art.
“But what’s wrong with her? What kind of disease does she have?” Emma insisted.
“Her heart is very weak.” Her mom turned away from the window to face Emma. Her voice was laced with impatience.
And again Emma thought: She’s lying.
“Please don’t worry about it,” her mom went on in a lighter tone. “I’ll try to come back soon.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as I can manage.”
“Grandpa is always in such a nasty mood,” Emma complained.
“Well, that isn’t news, is it?” Her mom stared down at the floor, as if absorbed by her own thoughts. After a pause, she added, “He’s old and his back always hurts. You know that.”
“I love Grandpa, but he’s so freaking…” She tried to come up with the right word. Bizarre.  Instead she said, “Mysterious. You know, with his violins.”
Her mom looked at Emma and frowned, as if waiting for her to say more.
“You know what I mean, Mom. With that room at the top of the stairs. The one that’s always locked.”
Her mom’s features hardened. “He keeps his most valuable pieces in there. You must never disobey him. He would be very disappointed.”
“Who said I would go in there?” Emma asked, trying to sound innocent. If there was something she intended to do, it was going inside that room. Once she’d almost been successful. For some crazy reason, Grandpa had forgotten to lock it one day. But the instant she touched the doorknob, he had called her from the bottom of the stairs, his wrinkled features twisted into a mask that had left her frozen. He had appeared enraged and afraid at the same time.
“When are you leaving?” Emma asked, shaking off the past to focus on the present issue.
“As soon as possible. Tomorrow, probably. I’ll get the plane tickets today.”
“Mom...”
“Emma, please. If you’re going to complain or say anything negative, I don’t want to hear it.”
Fine. Obviously, this wasn’t the best time to bring up her new psychic powers. She headed to the door.
“Where are you going?” her mom asked.
“To my room.”
“I’ll call Madame Dupriez to see if we may visit her after dinner. In the meantime, I want you to pack. You’re moving to Grandpa’s tomorrow.”
In her room, Emma dragged her suitcase from the top shelf in the closet and set it on the floor.
“Hi, Sweetie,” she said to Blackie, her rabbit. “Want to get some exercise?” She opened the cage door so Blackie could hop out and roam about her room. Blackie was housebroken, and smart as a cat—or close to it.  
She stared at the elegant taffeta gown hanging from her wardrobe door, a strapless design a la Anne Sophie Mutter she’d already bought for the upcoming violin competition.
She sighed.
Slumped on the bed, Emma wondered for the umpteenth time about Monsieur Dupriez’s strange disappearance.
Where could he be?