#BookTour “Dawn of the Fire Elemental” by Shyla Colt

March 9, 2022March 9, 2022 ~ Felicia Denise ~ Leave a comment

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Romantic Fantasy

Date Published: February 14, 2022

Publisher: Inspired Ink

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Celeste

My friends were stolen by the Fae. Their presence has been all but erased from the internet, and their absence was explained away to family and friends. Seeing the minds of grief-stricken parents completely altered drove home how dangerous the path I’m traveling is. Still, I won’t give up until I locate Elia and Roan. Even if the other member of our found family, Glenn, is too scared to act. Digging further into their disappearance, I use my magic and connections to seek knowledge and forge a relationship with the mysterious beings that have terrified me my entire life. Astral travel has opened my universe up. The teachers I’m forced to trust will be my ruin or a crash course in survival in the deadly realm I’m determined to breach.

Alun

I never imagined the silly witch with traces of Fae blood would end up being my mate. I’ll protect her at all costs, even against herself.
Bickering with the woman who comes into a power that rivals my own wakes more than my dormant emotions. Fire licks at my skin and races through my veins, engulfing us and fueling our muscles. The child of the Holly King has died, and the Summer Court will soon follow. I’m not sure the realm on the brink of civil war and destruction should be saved. If my mate doesn’t take the place of the fallen, the lands will go dark.
Threatened by our rise, we’re attacked by dark powers who have no idea the depths I’ll sink to in order to keep what’s mine safe.

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EXCERPT

“I need proof,” Celeste whispered.

His mother turned her attention to him. “Al, take her to the Autumn court. But keep your distance.”

He reached out to his brother. Kheelan, I’ll be visiting your territory briefly. Pay no heed. I’m fulfilling one of the mother’s requests.”

And here, I’d hoped my younger brother was simply coming to visit me.

Alun smirked. Soon.

Clapping his hands, he ripped open the fabric of reality. He could see his brother with a tall, golden-skinned woman with curly green hair and black wings through the gap. If it wasn’t for her curved ears, he might’ve wondered if she truly was one of their kind. Leave it to Kheelan to find someone so unique. The two strolled through the forest alive with reds, oranges, and golds. His new sister’s red dress boasted a leaf pattern in the same fall motif. Kheelan looked like a proper gentleman for once in his green velvet suit with a white cravat. I suppose one must up their game when dating a Queen. Does that make him the King? Amused, he turned to Celeste. She drank in the couple like a dehydrated woman at an oasis.

“How do I know I can trust him?” Celeste whispered, never taking her gaze from the couple walking.

“Paranoid little thing, aren’t you?”

“Wise,” she countered.

“Like an old owl?” He arched a brow.

She narrowed her eyes, and he chuckled. He enjoyed her fire. This was just the distraction he needed.

“Like a survivor,” she said.

“The one left standing, in the end, knows themselves inside and out. Can you say that?” It was a challenge. Her face hardened, and her spine straightened.

“I will,” she vowed. This was a commitment he could work with.

“We should start immediately.” A rectangle outlined in flames appeared, showing a glimpse of a forest made up of cool blues and greens.

“You first,” Celeste said stubbornly. He laughed. She had no clue who he was. People kneeled and bowed at his feet. He would enjoy breaking her down and building her up stronger. She would never make the same mistakes he did because he wouldn’t allow it. This was his chance at redemption. He’d be for her, what he never had; a guiding point, an anchor in a sea of confusing madness.

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About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at http://www.shylacolt.net

Contact Links

Twitter: @shylacolt

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#BookTour “Hope and Country” by Emmanuelle Snow

March 9, 2022March 8, 2022 ~ Felicia Denise ~ 2 Comments

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Title: Hope and Country

Series: Carter Hills Band (Interconnected standalones)

Author: Emmanuelle Snow

Publisher: Smart Lily Publishing inc.

Genre: Romance / New Adult

Trope: A strangers-to-Lovers, second chances, emotional rockstar romance

Cover Design: SMART Lily publishing

Photo: N/A

Model: (unknown)

Release Date: February 22, 2022

BLURB:

USA Today and International bestselling author Emmanuelle Snow brings a love story that will tug your heartstrings and keep you on the edge of your seat.

In my world, darkness has a name.
I’ve seen darkness. And looked straight into his eyes.
I’ve lived through darkness. Since I was a little girl.
Violence is my reality. My normal.

His father hit him. Now he hits me. For no reason other than a way to cope with stress. At least that’s the excuse he uses after he teaches me one of his, what he calls it, life lessons.

Now that he has left me for dead, I need to run away. To put as much distance between us as possible. Because this time, even with his powerful connections, he won’t find me. I’ll make sure of it.

My safe haven has a face. And even a name. But he has no idea I’m coming. That I need his help. And the safety he can provide for me. We met before. Once. Then I vanished into the night without saying goodbye.

A year has gone by since. Will he remember me? Will be a safe place to heal my wounds? Or did I dream the connection we shared that one night on the rooftop bar amongst his wealthy friends?

I’ll wait for him. Because I have nowhere else to go, alone, afraid, and scarred, praying this time, darkness won’t have a foothold on me.

Can I finally let the seeds of hope he planted into my heart that night grow, or should I keep running for my life?

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HC4

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EXCERPT

I faltered out of the cab toward the front porch but dropped my keys before climbing the three steps. In the dark night, my navy-blue craftsman house with stoned columns and white trims looked almost haunted. I scratched the side of my head. Why were the lights out? I had a timer installed when I moved in six years ago. The lights on the front porch turned on at sunset and turned off in the morning. Every single day. No exception.

Not tonight, though.

Was there a blackout?

I spun on my heels and scanned the street. Every other house had lights on.

I scratched the side of my head once more.

This was a mystery I’d solve another day. Now all I craved was a hot shower and a comfy bed to forget my week.

I blinked, but my eyes refused to adjust to the darkness. Damn it. I bent down to scramble for my keys. With my hand clamping the banister in a death grip, I barely made it up the stairs and promptly tripped over something, falling to my knees.

“Fucking great.”

Had I received a package and they’d just set it down right in the middle of my way?

In the dark, I saw nothing.

Damn these lights.

It took my brain a long minute to process the scene and remember the phone in my jacket. With heavy fingers, I turned the flashlight mode on.

My breath caught in my lungs. My heart jackhammered in my chest. I didn’t scream because no sound came out of my paralyzed vocal cords. What the—? Was it a—?

A body.

It was a fucking body.

I brought the light beam closer to what looked like a corpse. Was this person dead? My stomach leaped in my throat. Acid filled my mouth. Don’t throw up, man. Think. Inhale. Exhale. Why would there be a dead body on my front porch? This made no sense. I held my breath, scared the scent of death would penetrate my nose and haunt me forever. I hovered the light over the still body. By the width of the hips and the slim legs, it was either a tall child or a woman.

Frozen, on all fours, I pondered my options.

As my fingers hit the nine, the one, and the one a second time, a voice, soft and low, broke the silence. I startled and fell back on my ass.

“Riley— Are you Riley?” A woman. The voice belonged to a woman. My shoulders slouched forward. Okay, no dead person on my conscience.

I delved into my memories. I knew the voice. I had heard it before. But where? In my state of drunkenness, with alcohol drowning my brain cells, I had a hard time putting a face to the familiar voice.

I cleared my throat. “That’s me. Do we know each other? Should I call the police? Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

The woman moved to the side and pushed herself up to sit beside me. A growl of pain escaped her mouth as she wrapped her shaky arms around herself.

Thousands of questions popped into my head.

I moved closer to catch a sight of her face, trying to avoid blinding her with the light beam.

Gray-blue eyes met mine.

My heart died a thousand death in my chest before jolting back to life and beating in a frenzied rhythm.

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HC3

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Author Bio

Emotional, Sexy, and Sassy love stories

USA Today and International Bestselling Author Emmanuelle Snow is a contemporary author of mature YA and New Adult love stories, who gives life to strong characters who’ll fight with all they have to reach their life goals and find their own happiness. She loves her characters to be relatable and realistic.

Emmanuelle is in love with love. Especially complicated, deep, and passionate feelings that make a relationship extraordinary and complex all at the same time.

In her spare time, when she’s not writing or reading, she likes to go on road trips—with her four kids and her own soulmate—watch movies, paint, or do some DIY, always with a cup of green tea in her hand and listening to country music.

She splits her time between beautiful Canada and the small US towns she adores.

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#ReleaseBlitz “Double Frame (Sam Quinton, Book 3)” by Kevin R. Doyle

March 9, 2022March 9, 2022 ~ Felicia Denise ~ 2 Comments

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Sam Quinton, Book 3

Mystery

Date Published: March 8, 2022

Publisher: Camel Press

Sociology professor Felix Thayer is brilliant but hateful. A near genius in his field, but impossible to get along with. When his colleague Michael Hartness is found murdered in his office, it doesn’t surprise anyone that Thayer is arrested for the crime. Everyone who knew the two men pretty much saw that coming. But why would Thayer have committed the murder in a manner so careless as to almost ensure his being fingered as the culprit? It’s almost as if the guy wanted to be caught.

That’s what Thayer’s wife needs to know. She doesn’t really care whether her husband’s guilty. She just has to know why he’d be so careless and hires Sam Quinton, full-time gym owner, part-time private eye, and former professional wrestler, to find out. But as Quinton investigates the crime, he finds there may be more to the affair than the animosity of two men. And when the local Mafia begins dogging his steps, he figures he’s on the trail of something that someone wants kept under wraps.

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Excerpt

In the middle of a Monday afternoon I was working on the arms, doing concentration curls, when a good-looking older woman stepped into my gym.

That in itself wasn’t unusual. Mainly due to the efforts of Lisa Nolan, my manager, The Blaster, despite its name, has become something of a Mecca in the Providence area for women, both middle-aged and gracefully edging beyond, to come work out. And because most of them tend to work hard at keeping in shape, they usually veer toward the good-looking side of the equation.

This particular woman, however, didn’t appear at all in the mood to work out. Instead, her eyes made a quick circuit of the place, making note of the scattering of clients engaged in all sorts of planned, strenuous activity, then alighted on me, off in the corner and doing my curls.

Even from across the room I could see her nod briefly, as if confirming something to herself, then make a straight line in my direction.

Somewhere, by my guess, in the late forties, she wore black slacks and a charcoal-gray sweater with burgundy argyles, perfectly complementing both the gloomy March weather outside and her thick black hair, which held only a few streaks of gray. She obviously didn’t see the need to color her hair, and giving her a quick appraisal, I found myself in agreement.

I put down my dumbbells and waited for her to come over. When she did, she stood fidgeting for a moment, her look of cool poise drooping a bit.

When she got close, I could see her eyes were a striking royal blue color.

“Mr. Quinton?”

“That’s me.” I grabbed a water bottle from underneath the bench I was sitting on and took a swig.

“I’m interested in hiring you,” the woman said.

“I don’t do individual sessions,” I said. “I can take you over to talk to Lisa. She handles most of our formal scheduling, and I’m sure –”

“No, I,” the woman paused, took a breath and shook her head a trifle. “I’m not looking for a trainer.”

“Aah,” I said, the light dawning.

“I need a detective.” She peered closer at me while keeping her expression blank. I was wearing gym shorts, a tank-top tee shirt and white Puma’s. My face was still a little flushed from the curls, and at the end of a one-hour workout I probably needed a shower.

“Pardon my appearance,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to see any clients this afternoon.”

The woman looked around, her gaze sweeping the gym, before coming back to me. “You are a detective, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I need to hire you.”

I perked up at the word “need,” not “want.” “What sort of work?” I asked.

She frowned as she looked down at me. “Detective work. That is what you do, isn’t it?”

I shook my head. “What I meant was what sort of case. What do you need help with?”

Her face crumpled a bit, and a hint of moisture seeped into her eyes. She shook her head slightly, and I wondered if she was going to turn around and head back out the door.

Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and stood up a little straighter.

“My name is Susan Thayer,” she said. “Does that explain the kind of work I need?”

“Thayer.”

“Correct.”

“As in Dr. Felix Thayer?” I asked.

She nodded, and looking closely, I could see two parallel tears sliding down her cheeks.

Oh yeah. I don’t know if that explained everything, but it explained an awful lot.

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About the Author

A high-school teacher, former college instructor and fiction writer, Kevin R. Doyle is the author of numerous short stories, mainly in the horror field. He’s also written three crime thrillers, The Group, When You Have to Go There, and And the Devil Walks Away and one horror novel, The Litter. Recently, he’s begun working on the Sam Quinton private eye series. The first Quinton book, Squatter’s Rights, was nominated for the 2021 Shamus award as Best First PI Novel. The second book, Heel Turn, was released in March of 2021. More information can be found at kevindoylefiction.com.

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