Thursday, February 26, 2015

Forever Mine Giveaway - April Zyon




*** I am giving away ONE FREE COPY of this book to one person who comments on this blog post. ***
AZ-ForeverMine-FB-Banner(newsizing)   forever-mine
Release Date: 2/25/2015
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Evernight Buy Link:
Author: April Zyon
Series: Massey Texas
 
Author Stalking Links
Author Website: www.april-zyon.com
  Blurb:
When handed the Intel on a potential threat Martin Carver had no idea it would be what led him back to the town of his birth. At age nineteen he’d left Massey, Texas in his dust. But now when the life of someone he loves being threatened even the claustrophobic town won’t keep him from protecting her. And God help those after her. Taking over her father’s practice had always been in the cards for Athena Rhodes. What she didn’t expect was to take over from him was the baggage that came along with the business. Law abiding woman that she is, Athena reaches out to get some help. Not in the cards was having the only man to ever hold her heart walk through the door, and tell her he was there to get her out from under the mob. Everyone has always believed Martin to be the classic do-gooder. Building homes in third world countries, off saving the whales from drilling platforms, or any number of stories that have filtered through Massey through the years. To find out every single one of those stories were nothing more than fairy tales is one thing, to find out he’s actually an FBI agent will take some getting used to. Athena’s running out of time, the mob having set a time limit on what they require her to do. If she fails to follow their demands to the letter it will mean her father’s life. Unsure what to do she will lean heavily on Martin, and hope he doesn’t let her fall. The clock is against them to keep the woman Martin loves and her dad safe. He’ll do whatever it takes to end the threat rising against them. Because he’s got an all or nothing plan. What could go wrong? Excerpt: County Line Massey, Texas He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there staring at the sign announcing, “Welcome to Massey, TX Population 5,609 and growing!” but the hood under his ass was cooling, and the sun had reached its highest point. Hell, it was starting the slow slide toward the horizon. It had been a long, long time since he’d been home. The last time he’d been there he’d flown in for his pop’s funeral, stuck around for the meal, and then got the hell out of Dodge. Since then, he hadn’t been home once. He called, though, every single weekend right after his mother had finished breakfast on Sundays. They would chat for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes. No more, no less. The woman always had enough gossip to fill that time, so he rarely had to say much of anything. Yet, here he was. Staring into the abyss of the quintessential small town. Ranches and farms spread out as far as the eye could see and beyond. Nestled in the middle was Massey. His hometown, and the place he’d burned rubber to get away from the moment he’d turned eighteen. Unlike his brothers, Martin had always hated coming back. To him, it had felt claustrophobic. Whether from his family’s expectations, or from his own uncertainty about the future, he didn’t know. This time was no different. So, there he was, sitting on the hood of his ‘66 Mustang. While she maintained her shape, he’d given her a few tweaks over the years. A new paint job when he was eighteen, and a new hemi engine when he was twenty-two. There were a few other not exactly legal additional elements to Eris, named after the goddess of chaos, strife, and discord. His brothers had actually named his car, but he’d let it stick. Hell, he’d even gotten a little name plate that was attached to the dashboard right over the speedometer. Martin shook his head, leaning back on his hands as he continued to stare in the direction of the town. He remembered back in high school a rumor Frank had told him about. His older brother had apparently also started it, but he denied it with a smirk every single time Martin confronted him. According to the “rumor,” if a girl managed to talk Martin into taking her out a date, she prayed he’d be driving Eris. If he showed up in his pop’s old pickup truck, then she knew she would be getting walked to the front door, given a peck on the cheek, and he’d promptly leave to never call her for another date. But if he showed up in Eris, the girl would be getting a tour of the backseat, on her back, and things would be a rocking. Not once had Martin ever taken a girl out in Eris. There’d been one he’d thought about, right before leaving town for good, but she’d been too young, and he definitely hadn’t needed that sort of thing to follow him or her around for the rest of their days. Athena Rhodes. Named for the virgin goddess of reason, intelligent activity, arts, and literature. A more perfect name for the woman in question there never would be. She’d always had an ethereal quality about her, always thinking before leaping, and was the one woman who still had him jolting up out of bed in the middle of the night from the dreams she starred front and center in. Not the teenage version of Athena Rhodes either. Nope, he knew exactly what she looked like as of four weeks ago. Hell, he even had her photo in the folder sitting on the passenger seat of his car. The rest of what was in the folder was why he was there, despite digging in his heels with the director of the FBI. Fucking bastard found it funny that Martin didn’t want to go home for a visit and deal with the trouble Athena found herself in. In the director’s mind, it was two birds, one stone. In Martin’s, it was a colossal fuck up in the making. Especially if Athena was anywhere near it. Athena, bane of his existence. She’d been just starting to come into the woman she would one day be when he’d left Massey. Now she was more than he could ever have imagined. Five-foot-seven, long, rich red hair the color of a wine with hints of copper and strawberries. Green eyes that could lighten with amusement or darken like a coming storm. Athena had the stereotypical redhead temper, though he knew from his mother’s gossip she rarely showed it any more. So she’d gotten it under control. Should be interesting to test that theory. Pale golden skin, just a hint of a tan, with a smattering of freckles over her nose and upper curve of her cheeks. A slightly rounded face with amazing bone structure, straight nose, slightly pointed chin, gave her face a heart-shaped look. A long ,elegant neck he’d imagined nibbling on in his quest to discover if there were freckles anywhere else on her body. His dreams said yes, but Martin didn’t think he’d really ever find out. To top off his perfect woman’s image, Athena had some meat on her bones. She was built like a woman, sturdy, and not like one of those twigs from Hollywood that would blow over if you sneezed in their direction. She was, quite literally, his dream woman given form. Or maybe, he should say, she was the woman of his dreams, if only he had the nerve to tell her. His other problem with the woman. She got him all twisted up inside, and turned him into a babbling fool. Or she had. Martin really hoped she still didn’t have that particular effect on him. ‘Cause that would just be the fucking icing on the cake for this whole damned trip. The sound of an engine pulled his attention back, and he let out a sigh when the truck got close enough for him to recognize it. All the time in the world seemed to have passed, and the damn pickup truck that was used around the Carver Ranch was still exactly the same. Squinting slightly at the reflection off the windshield, he waited for his brother to swing it around and park it behind the Mustang. The crunch of boots to gravel told him where his big brother was, yet still, he waited. Only when the other man slid onto the hood next to him did he give a nod. “Frank,” he said quietly. “Martin.” That was it, nothing else. Course they didn’t really need to say much of anything else. Despite rumors to the contrary, ones sort of started by him, he and Frank had worked together more than once. They even talked on a fairly regular basis. While Frank had worked for a different branch, and under different mandates for the US government, Martin had always been his brother’s contact inside the bureau. “Eris is looking good,” Frank said after another ten minutes of silence. “She held up well on the drive. Only got a bit cranky with me outside of Dallas. But a quart of oil and she was purring like an overgrown kitten again.” Frank snorted out a laugh at that. “I can’t believe you still have her.” “Dude, she’s family. Quit trash talking my car.” Hands up, Frank cracked a grin. A real grin. As in teeth and everything. While Martin was staring in shock, he missed what his brother was saying. “What? Sorry.” “I asked you how long you plan on sitting out here. According to Willard, you’ve been here since eight this morning. It’s now nearly two in the afternoon.” Heaving a sigh, Martin shoved his hands through his pale blond hair. Out of all the Carvers, his was the lightest in color, but his eyes were the darkest. The oddities of the familial gene pool. “Working up the nerve to drive across the county line is all.” “Uh-huh. You do know that Mama’s already heard you’re here. And the fact you are sitting here, and not at her kitchen table where she can smother you with all that built up motherly love, means you are in seriously deep shit, little brother.” Martin winced at that. Yeah, his mama would hug him, weep all over him, and then likely bean him with her rolling pin. Theresa Carver was in no way a pushover. She might play the part occasionally to lure the unaware in close, but then she struck. She could make a grown man in a full rage cry like a little girl in under two minutes. Without even batting a lash. She was that good. “So, what has you here?” Frank asked. Normally, he wouldn’t discuss it, but Frank still held his beyond top secret clearance level, and likely would as long as he was still breathing. “Athena Rhodes, or rather her dirty, lowdown scoundrel of a father.” Frank’s head whipped around to look his way. “Shit. You got handed that one?” “Yup.” “Well fuck me.” Yup. Pretty much Martin’s exact thoughts on the matter.  

A small aside about the series, Massey Texas, from the author...   I’ve always been fascinated with Cowboys. I know, most people are but to me there is just something super sexy about a man who is willing to work his ass off for a living. Something that’s incredibly hot about a man who knows how to work the land with his own hands. When I originally started Massey Texas with Rhys Hollister and Gwen Baker I never dreamed that one of the families central to the story would stand up and take center stage, but they did. The Carver Family stood out pretty much from the get go in this series and they had to have their stories told. Massey Texas has been a wonderful thrill-ride fro me, each time the characters spoke they tended to throw me for a loop, so to speak, and I loved every single moment of it. While I’m tentatively ending this series at this book, the 9th in the series, it doesn’t mean that I will never revisit it one day in the future. After all, there were a couple of babies born to the Carver family that might eventually need their stories told! I truly hope that you have all enjoyed the Massey Texas series as much as I have, and I hope that you will continue to read the books that I put out as either April Zyon, or Honor James.  
~~~ Peace and love my friends, and be good to each other!
April Zyon (Also known as Honor James)
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Monday, February 23, 2015

The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand - Siobhan Muir

BLURB
The adventure of Ivory’s lifetime might just be the death of her…


When it comes to make believe, A-list actress Ivory is a professional. But when a desert hike takes her across a dimensional rift, her real-life self, Iliana Rory, must separate fantasy from reality. The man she swears is the costar in her next movie might share the same surname and appearance, but there are no sets in this Mr. Crowe’s world, no props, and no director to yell “cut” before blood is spilled.

With a fortune in stolen treasure and the forces of the Knalish army hot on their trail, Brandon Crowe and his partner, Ahmad, must cross a desert neither of them knows well. Mistaken for their guide, Iliana seizes any chance to stay ahead of the army and survive in this new world.

Adventure straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster might be on Iliana’s bucket-list, but she never dreamed there’d be the real possibility of death when the end credits roll. A Walk in the Sand is the first story in the four part serial recounting Iliana’s journey along the Ivory Road.

The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand
Copyright © 2015 Siobhan Muir
All Rights Reserved

A low rumble across the sandy wastes caught Iliana’s attention. She squinted against the glare and focused on a growing plume of dust. People on horseback raced toward her over the dunes, dressed in the same clothing style as her own costume. They whipped their horses into a full gallop even though it was the hottest part of the day.
“Oh, shit.”
None of the riders looked particularly friendly and their path would take them right over the top of her. Unless she got out of the way. There’s an idea.
Iliana spun and tripped over something at her feet. She landed hard in an undignified heap next to the large object on the ground. She scanned the yielding lump and her stomach sank. A body lay staring at the sky, the lower face covered in black silk.
“Oh, my God!” She scrambled to her knees and bent over him, feeling for a pulse or a puff of air from his mouth. Nothing. He had darker skin than she, though he wore similar clothes. His sword lay on the ground next to him and blood stained the sand beneath him with a deep red splash. She jerked to her feet and backed away.
My sword was clean, right? I didn’t kill him, right?
Whatever had happened to the man, nothing could change it now. She swung her gaze around, searching for a place to hide. She didn’t want to end up with the same fate when the approaching riders arrived.
Where the heck am I gonna hide in the frickin’ desert?
Green foliage caught her gaze and she snorted. Of course, an oasis. No wonder the riders were headed this way. Hopefully it would be large enough to hide her and they’d move on. Yeah, and while I’m dreaming, can I have a cup of reality with my magic unicorn?
She took off running for the trees, her gut tight and her heart thundering. Tall palm trees covered her in their shade as she crashed through the underbrush. The sounds of a stream filtered through the crackling fronds and she damn near stumbled into a pond full of clear water. At the far side of it stood a dappled gray Arabian horse, resting in the shade with one hind foot cocked as it waited for its master to return.
Could she take the horse and ride away from here? Sure, and go where? She had no idea where she was or how far the next watering hole was from here. Hell, she didn’t even know if she could speak the local language. If the people meant her no harm, whatever chased them would probably not be to her liking. She grimaced and wrapped the silk mask over her face as she edged around the tree into the deep shadow to wait.
A few moments later, the sounds of horses and men filtered into the quiet of the oasis and the riders pulled their horses up beside the pool. Everyone dismounted and filled canteens and water skins. One of the men strode around to the gray horse, his gaze sweeping the trees as he called out someone’s name. The rich baritone of his voice soothed her ears and reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t remember who. He stood shorter than the others in his party, but carried an air of command with him.
“She’s not here, Crowe.” A taller man with odd tattoos below his eyes scowled through his beard. “This was a wild goose chase.”
“There’s her horse, Ahmad.” Crowe waved at the gray horse, his gaze still searching the trees. “She has to be here. She’s always here.”
At least I can understand them.
“How can you be certain?” Ahmad pointed out reasonably. “That horse could belong to the poor fool lying out there dead. If she was here before, she probably saw us coming. What makes you think she’d stay and wait for you? She’s a woman. They’re ever-changing and less trustworthy than a cobra. We have the entire Knalish army bearing down on us. What makes you think she’d stay to greet them?”
“Because she said she’d wait for us and show us the way across the sands to the west.” He paused to shout through the trees. “Kyra!” Crowe strode around the pool to stand directly in front Ivory’s hiding spot. “We need her to lead us. Without her, it doesn’t matter if the army catches us. She’s the only one who knows this path outside the Knalish.” He swung his gaze around the oasis. “Kyra!”
“Look, Crowe, we are running out of time.” Ahmad stoppered his water skin and slung it over his saddle. “We have to keep moving.”
“And where would you have us go, Ahmad?” Crowe turned his back to Ivory. “Kyra is the only one who knows this part of the desert. Without her, we’re just another set of bones in the sand.”

The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand
ISBN:
Genre: Sci-fi/Fantasy Romance Serial, Book 1
Word Count: 31,400

MY LINKS
Website: http://siobhanmuir.com
Blog: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5760938.Siobhan_Muir

BUY LINKS
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BIO

Siobhan Muir lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, with her husband, two daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he's never shifted when she can see him. When not writing, she can be found looking down a microscope at fossil fox teeth, pursuing her other love, paleontology. An avid reader of science fiction/fantasy, her husband gave her a paranormal romance for Christmas one year, and she was hooked for good.

In previous lives, Siobhan has been an actor at the Colorado Renaissance Festival, a field geologist in the Aleutian Islands, and restored inter-planetary imagery at the USGS. She’s hiked to the top of Mount St. Helens and to the bottom of Meteor Crater.

Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication, all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.

Siobhan’s latest release, A Walk in the Sand, is the first story in her new The Ivory Road serial. She has published A Hell Hound’s Fire (a free read), The Beltane Witch, and Cloudburst Ice Magic in the Cloudburst Colorado series, and Take the Reins and A Centaur’s Solstice Wish in the Rifts series. Siobhan has also published Bronco’s Rough Ride and The Navy’s Ghost in the Bad Boys of Beta Squad series, Not a Dragon’s Standard Virgin and Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack through Siren Publishing, and Her Devoted Vampire through Evernight Publishing.

Friday, February 20, 2015

10 Reasons You Should Not Give Up and Ignore Naysayers


If I had any idea being an adult sucked so bad, I wouldn't have been in such a damn hurry to grow up. For some odd reason, I thought adults were cool, and could do whatever they wanted to, whenever they wanted to.

Damn, I was so misinformed!

Welcome adulthood, bills, a job (likely one you hate), children, mortgage, taxes, blah, blah. Where is the fun? What in the hell happened to doing what you want, when you want? Gah!

If you perhaps fell into life, married early, had children, bought a house, and woke up one day and thought, "What the feck happened?" You're not alone. Maybe you have a shit job, but need the damn thing. You're unsatisfied with it and numerous other aspects of life, well, join the crowd, you're not alone.

What to do?

Do you have a dream? If you had the opportunity to change anything, what would it be? Would you be happier if you were working toward your dream? What's stopping you?

Fear can be buckle us down into a certain way of life. Stepping outside of our comfort zone is scary as hell, but guess what? If you don't take a chance, you will never know true happiness or success, and by success, I don't mean riches, I mean the good stuff, the happy to wake and start a new day stuff.

Beware, pitfalls are everywhere, and you are your own worst enemy. Tell me something, how many lives do you have to live? Just one, huh? It seems to me one should make the most of it. Don't you?

Outside of yourself and the lead in your ass, others will throw boulders in your path. Not joking. These people will inhibit and you may not even realize they are doing it. Maybe its a mother in law that worries because she has nothing better to do. Risks! Be careful, don't take a chance! A bus may hit you or something equally as bad. Or, you may encounter the Negative Nancy's. These are the people you need to avoid like the plague. No matter what, this type of person can name a thousand ways you will fail. The problem with these people is that they won't take a chance and live, but they don't want you to either.

Negative people = a negative outlook

Let's face it, junior high didn't end in junior high. There will always be someone who will throw a stick in the spokes of your bike! Ignore them. If you want it, make it happen, because no one else will do it for you.

For me, I love to write. I'm not famous and I'm definitely not rich, but it makes me feel good. The high I get when I complete a book and put it out for the world to see is my accomplishment and I own it. Does that make sense to you? It should and I'll tell you why. The words my tiny little brain commits to paper is mine and no one can take that from me. I created it and no one else. That is an accomplishment and something I can be proud of. While my success doesn't equate to a large bank account, my inner me has become a millionaire. No joke. Coming from the wrong side of town, growing up so poor I can't even express it in one post, a high school dropout because I was bullied so much I got my GED my junior year in order to get the hell out of the drama, to a mother of two, wife of over seventeen years, college degree earner with multiple published books. Yeah, I'm a goldmine inside, because I overcame it all. I had the courage to TRY. If I fail, I try again! When I leave this world, no one, and I mean no one will be able to say I didn't try or I was lazy.

I don't care if writing is your goal or starting your own cupcake shop. It doesn't matter. Dreams are just dreams unless you make a commitment to TRY. What good are dreams if you don't make an attempt to make them come true?

I challenge you to dig into your "Bucket List" and pull out one, just one. Be proactive and TRY. Maybe you Pinterst your ass off and have a board full of things you want to do. DO ONE! The funny thing about success is that it breeds the desire for more. Today a coffee table re-do, tomorrow a cupcake shop. Who knows what you can accomplish if you put your mind to it.

Before you can offer up money as an excuse. Don't. Success isn't merely about money. Some of the richest people I know are monetarily poor. State of mind. Find your success for you and not your bank account. The rest will follow.

Borrowing a lot from my mother who gave all, did without, put up with more than any one person should endure, and could still find something positive to say, I developed my top ten list.

Drum roll, please....

1.  Can't never could do anything. *I don't tolerate my children to use the word "can't" If I said, "I can't." Guess what? I never would have accomplished anything. (My mom told me that thousands of times)

2. You can do anything you put your mind to. *Not joking. I told my mother over five years ago I wanted to write a book. Her response, "I have no doubt you will." (My mother beat the "You can do anything" statement into my head since I was a child)

3. Pretty is as pretty does. *Don't laugh, because this statement holds a lot of gold. (If on the outside you are pretty, either looks, money, doesn't matter, but on the inside you're asshole, you're really just an asshole and no one will want you to succeed or help you. In other words, pretty on the outside and ugly on the inside isn't a good quality. So don't be an asshole and pretend to be something else)

4. Don't expect the world to blow sunshine up your ass. *Your idea may suck, so its up to you to find a better one. Try, try, and try again. You can't please everyone, so don't expect it. Hone your craft.

5. Be genuine and sincere. *Really, if you say you will do something, do it. Accountability means A LOT, no matter what you are pursuing. Sincerity goes a long way as well. Be kind in your path to success and don't step on people. One day it may kick you in the teeth.

6. Avoid negative people. Negativity is passed on. *Negative people will only bring you down and ruin any positive thoughts or plans. Make it a point to respond to negative people with positive feedback. You may just change their outlook.

7. Be a good person. *Karma is the bitch that keeps on giving. I truly believe that what we put out comes back to us. And why not be kind? Nobody likes an asshole anyway.

8. If you fail at anything, try something else! *Not everyone can be an artist, a world class runner, or a grower of a Victory Garden! We all have a gift and it is up to us to find out what that is. (I love crafts, but holy hell, I fail 99% of the time. I just wasn't gifted to be a crafty bitch)

9. This is my favorite and a borrowed quote I saw somewhere. If they aren't fucking you, funding you, or paying your bills, their opinion doesn't matter! *Who cares what Sally Stuck Up thinks about what you are doing or what you want to accomplish. Flip her the bird and go on. It is YOUR life, and no one else's.

10. At the end of your time here on Earth, what kind of memory do you want? Would you like to look back and think, "I wish I would have....." *Step out and take on chance on something, anything!

Life is short. Make your days matter. If the only thing you want to accomplish is skydiving, go do it! We aren't promised tomorrow. Make your time here count and make your life something that makes you smile. Remember, success isn't measured by your bank account, but rather by the wealth of what makes you happy.