Friday 31 May 2019

Jade Academy Tour and Giveaway

Bobby Ether and the Jade Academy
by R. Scott Boyer
Genre: YA Fantasy Adventure 

Bobby Ether and the Jade Academy is a thrilling action-packed adventure you never want to end.” IndieReader 4.5 stars

When Bobby Ether is abducted and brought to the secluded Jade Academy in Tibet, monks teach him and other special students how to tap into their Anima—the universal energy that connects all living things. 
But the headmistress of the academy is secretly testing each student, looking for genetic triggers that can be exploited to create a new breed of humans born with metaphysical powers and abilities. As his abilities increase, Bobby is thrust into a cesspool of conspiracy, lies, and betrayal. A jade amulet left by his clairvoyant grandfather may provide answers, but what exactly is his family’s connection to this mysterious place? Can Bobby master his talents and uncover the truth in time to avoid the schemes? If not, his fate—and the fate of all the students—may be sealed.

Goodreads * Amazon

The earthquake that woke Bobby Ether from his nightmare wasn’t a typical Los Angeles tremor. Growing up in the suburbs of the San Fernando Valley, Bobby had experienced enough quakes to know most of them lasted only a few seconds— over by the time you realized they were happening. Not this one.
The entire room shook as Bobby sat upright in bed and rubbed his eyes. The windows rattled and the freestanding dresser in the corner bounced up and down. In a stupor, the long-legged sixteen-year-old stumbled out of bed and headed for his desk to climb underneath.
Nausea washed over him as the floor heaved. Still reliving the nightmare from moments before he awoke, Bobby scurried under his desk before the rumbling finally subsided. Climbing out slowly, he moved to the window, where a foot-long crack had appeared in the drywall below the sill.
It was almost midnight. The next-door neighbor’s house was quiet and dark: no lights or alarms. The water in their backyard swimming pool stood placid.
What the heck?
Bobby brushed locks of wavy blond hair off his forehead, exposing beads of cold sweat. Racing downstairs, he turned on the television in the den and flipped through the channels, but there was no news about a quake. It was only a dream, he told himself. The earthquake, the nightmare, none of it was real.
The phone rang and Bobby jumped. Wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his pajamas, he headed across the dining room to the phone in the kitchen and snatched the receiver off the hook.
“Hello?” he said.
The female voice was cold and mechanical. “Is this Bobby Ether?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Saint Michelle’s hospital. I’m calling from the emergency center.”
Bobby felt the blood drain from his face.
“Hello, are you there?” asked the woman from the hospital.
Bobby’s mouth had turned bone dry.
“We need you to come to the hospital right away,” said the woman. “There’s been an accident.”
The phone slipped from Bobby’s hand, nearly falling to the floor before he caught it and hauled it back up.
The voice on the other end was still speaking. “Sir? Are you still there?”
Bobby closed his eyes as tears pooled once again. In his mind, he saw the accident exactly as it had been in his nightmare. His parents were in his father’s SUV, driving home from their Wednesday “date night” dinner and a movie. As they crossed the intersection at Chapel and La Grange, a truck on their right ran a red light and crashed into them.
“Was it a man with long hair?” asked Bobby. “In an old pickup?”
After a long pause, the woman said, “I’m afraid I can’t discuss other patients’ information.”
It didn’t matter. Bobby already knew the answer. The longhaired man had been drinking and didn’t react in time to the changing light. His truck had barreled through the intersection and T-boned his father’s Explorer just behind the passenger seat occupied by his mother.
The two vehicles had careened off in opposite directions. The pickup smashed through the window of a nearby delicatessen. The Explorer slid across oncoming traffic before slamming headfirst into a lamp post.
“You should check on the other driver,” said Bobby flatly.
“He’s hurt pretty bad too.”
“Sir, do you have someone who can bring you here?”
There was another long silence as Bobby shook his head.
“Sir, I can send someone to pick you up. Can you give me your address, please?”
Without responding, Bobby set the phone down and headed for his mom’s Prius parked on the street. Grabbing her keys off of the console table, he flung open the front door and froze.
A woman stood in the doorway, arm extended to knock.
Somewhere in her fifties, she looked like she could have been a supermodel in her younger years—tall and slender, with high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. Dressed all in white, she wore an elegantly tailored dress suit with a golden silk scarf to match her hair.
Bobby took a step back and the woman stepped forward, towering over him in four-inch Prada heels. “Just who I was looking for,” she exclaimed.
Bobby took another involuntary step back, opening space for the woman to cross the threshold. She did so, closing the door quickly behind her.
“Hello, Bobby.”
Bobby retreated across the foyer to the base of the stairs.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Are you from the hospital?”
Even as he asked the question, Bobby knew the answer.
He’d only just hung up with the hospital seconds ago. Besides, he hadn’t given them his address.
The woman scanned the room, seemingly memorizing every detail of the small but tidy three-bedroom house. Bobby had never been ashamed of his home before, but something about this woman’s gaze made him wish the house were nicer.
“Well, this place is . . . cozy,” she said finally. “Not quite what I pictured for Jeremiah’s family, but I suppose to each his own.”
The mention of his grandfather caught Bobby by surprise. He relaxed his grip on the car keys and leaned against the banister, trying to act casual as he asked, “How do you know my grandfather?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed for a split second, then she extended her arm. “My name is Cassandra,” she said, offering her hand stiffly, like a soldier forced to salute. “Your grandfather and I go way back.”
“But how do you—” began Bobby.
Before he finished, his stomach let loose a tremendous growl. Bobby’s insides turned queasy and his knees buckled. The keys slipped from his hand and hit the hardwood floor with a clank. Cassandra caught Bobby under the arms and hoisted him back up before he followed the keys to the ground.
“Well, I can see I got here none too soon,” she said with a heavy sigh. For an older woman, she was surprisingly strong.
“Come on, let’s get you to the kitchen.”
Bobby lacked the strength to protest. Arms flopping at his sides, feet dragging, he let her escort him across the dining room to the narrow kitchen that ran down the left side of the house.
Depositing Bobby unceremoniously at the kitchen table,
Cassandra rifled through the refrigerator. Bobby leaned over the tabletop, gripping his stomach as he fought to keep down his late-night snack of Hawaiian pizza and chicken wings.
Cassandra pulled something out of her pocket and stuffed it into the blender on the Formica countertop. Adding an assortment of vegetables and juice from the fridge, she ran the machine and poured the contents into a glass.
“Drink this,” she said, shoving the cup into his hands.
Bobby took a deep breath and pulled himself upright.
“What’s in it?”
“It’ll help you recover from your anima event,” said Cassandra.
Bobby sniffed and thrust the cup out to arm’s length. It smelled like cat urine mixed with moldy cheese. “My what-awhat?”
Cassandra pushed the cup toward his face. “Drink!”
Something about her words echoed in his head like a siren’s song. Before he knew it, he’d drained the contents. Cassandra leaned against the counter, watching him with a slight smile as he gagged from the aftertaste.
When he could speak, Bobby said, “How did you—”
“I’ll explain later,” said Cassandra. “Right now, we need to leave.”
Still wobbly but feeling stronger by the second, Bobby rose.
“Right now, I need to get to the hospital.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” said Cassandra. “It’s the first place they’ll look.”
Bobby opened his mouth to protest. Then the doorbell rang.
“Just as I feared.” Cassandra pushed Bobby toward the dining room. “Quickly, go pack a bag! I’ll buy us some time, but you must hurry.”
Bobby walked to the front window and peered through the blinds. Two men stood on the porch directly below the lamp. One was reed thin, with oily, slicked-back hair and pockmarked cheeks. The other was pudgy, with a receding hairline, heavy jowls, and cruel eyes that reminded Bobby of a hyena. On the
curb behind them, men in black uniforms piled out of a line of black SUVs glimmering under the incandescent street lamps.
“What’s with the rejects from Saturday Night Fever?” asked Bobby, noting the pastel suits, huge lapels, and bell-bottom pants of the two men on the porch.
Cassandra swept past Bobby and peeked between the slates.
“Just my luck,” she grumbled. “Bobby, get upstairs and get your things. I have a plan, but you must hurry.”
Bobby drifted to the staircase and stopped with one hand on the banister.
Cassandra touched his arm. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll take care of this.”
He searched her face for a long moment. Then he rushed upstairs and began to pack.
As Bobby hurriedly threw clothes into his bag, he heard the front door open and Cassandra’s voice. It was one of the last things he expected.
“Hello, Simpkins. Hayward,” she said. “What brings you by this evening?”
“Cassandra! What a surprise,” the man said.
“That much is obvious from the blank look on your face,”
said Cassandra. “Be a dear and close your mouth, won’t you, Hayward? I can feel my hair starting to frizz.”
Cassandra stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
Bobby set down his bag and moved to the top of the stairs. The voices were muffled, but through the transom window above the front door, he could make out the speakers’ faces and piece together what they were saying.
“You had best watch your tone,” said Hayward, the fat man with the cruel eyes.
“And explain what you’re doing here,” said Simpkins, the skinny one. “Do we have a situation?”
“Relax,” said Cassandra. “The brass just thought it might be best for me to assist.”
“What are you gonna do?” asked Hayward. “Read the kid a bedtime story?”
Cassandra’s response sounded well-rehearsed, just like her answers to Bobby. “This kid has been off the grid until now. Which means you have no idea what he’s capable of.”
Hayward scoffed. “He’s one lousy kid. I could handle this entire job by myself.”
“We didn’t receive any instructions about you assisting,” said Simpkins. “I think it’s best we handle this on our own.”
“You felt the quake, right?” said Cassandra. “Are you sure you want to be on his bad side if he experiences another anima event?”
Bobby paused. There was that phrase again—anima event.
“We got the hospital report,” said Hayward. “We know exactly what triggered him.”
“But you don’t know what else might—”
“Enough small talk,” said Simpkins. “Where’s the boy, Cassandra?”
“He’s inside, but he’s still pretty shaken up. The hospital called—he knows his dream was real.”
“Then we should go in and comfort him,” Hayward chuckled.
The doorknob jiggled.
Cassandra held her ground. “Remember what happened with the Thompson kid?” she said coolly.
“How was the recovery process? Not too painful, I hope.”
“Kiss my—” said Hayward. Simpkins cut him off.
“Have it your way, Cassandra,” said Simpkins. “Go back inside and get the kid. Hayward, get back to the truck and radio this in. Find out why we weren’t informed that Miss Congeniality here was called in to assist.”
Bobby didn’t wait to hear anymore. Shoving the remaining clothes he’d pulled out into his bag, he cast a final glance around the room for anything else worth taking. He paused at an old photo on the corner of his desk. It was a picture of him, his parents, and his grandfather Jeremiah at the beach during one of Grandpa’s rare visits. Bobby still remembered that day. Grandpa had been animated and intense that afternoon, warning Bobby about all sorts of things that made no sense— cautioning him to keep away from wild animals and to always carry a flashlight. Bizarre as he was, it had been nice to see the old man.
Bobby lifted the picture and the corner caught on something. Pulling harder, he exposed a tarnished silver necklace with a stone pendant shaped like a flower. He remembered it vaguely, a gift from Grandpa, given to him the day the photo was taken. Far too feminine for a teenage boy, it had sat on Bobby’s desk for years, buried beneath piles of comic books and video games. On impulse, Bobby stuffed both the picture and the pendant into his pocket and headed for the window. He had one foot
over the windowsill when the door creaked open behind him. “I hope you weren’t planning on leaving without me,” said Cassandra.
Bobby froze, half in, half out of the window. “You lied to me,” he said. “You know those guys down there. And now you’re going to turn me over to them.”
“I didn’t lie to you; I lied to them to buy us some time.”
Bobby grimaced. “How do I know you aren’t lying to me about lying to them?”
“Because I am going to help you escape.”
Bobby swung his other leg out over the sill. “Thanks, but I’ve got that covered.”
“Suit yourself,” said Cassandra. “But you should know they’ll see you from the curb.” Bobby shot a quick glance outside. Six men, each wearing dark military garb, stood by the vans less than fifty feet away.
“Those are Core agents, sent to bring you in,” said Cassandra. She retreated to the door. “I’m headed out the back. You can either come with me, or take your chances out the window.”
Bobby balanced on the sill, staring into the distance. “What the heck is a Core agent? And what’s an anima event?”
The men by the vans broke off into teams. Two of them headed down either side of the house. At least two more agents remained by the curb.
Cassandra disappeared down the steps. With a sigh, Bobby climbed back into his bedroom, grabbed his duffle bag, and hurried after her.
On tiptoes, they crept through the house to the back porch, located off the pantry, beyond the kitchen. Cassandra eased the door open with Bobby at her hip. The backyard was dark with no lights on except a single bulb by the garage entrance. Gravel crunched off to their left as the Core agents crept up the
“They’re coming!” Bobby whispered to Cassandra. She held a finger to her lips and pointed through the darkness to the barely visible ivy-covered fence bordering the back alley.
From the front of the house, Simpkins shouted, “Hey, Cassandra! HQ has no info about an assist. Open up now or we’re coming in.” Bobby started across the lawn, but Cassandra grabbed his shoulder. A few seconds later, a loud clash of shattered hinges and splintered wood sounded as the front door was smashed in.
Cassandra threw open the back door. “Go now!” she yelled.
With his duffle bag bouncing on his shoulders, Bobby raced to the back fence. Encumbered as he was, he got there far ahead of Cassandra, who struggled with her high heels on the thick grass.
Bobby reached the back gate and stared in horror. A heavy chain wrapped around the latch, secured by a thick padlock. Behind him, light flickered in the gap between the garage and the corner of the house as the Core agents continued up the driveway. No going back for the key.
Bobby raced along the back fence, trampling through the vegetable garden until he found a spot not covered in ivy. A light flashed in his direction. A split second later, Simpkins shouted and broke into a sprint across the lawn.
“Stop! . . . Come back here!”
Bobby tossed his duffle bag over the fence and climbed.
Meanwhile, Cassandra reached the fence and paused at the gate.
“What are you doing?” he yelled. “Climb!”
Instead, Cassandra grasped the hefty padlock in both hands as Bobby reached the top of the fence. Dropping to the ground on the far side, Bobby took a moment to gather his bag. When he straightened up, Cassandra stood next to him, the gate slightly ajar. She pushed the gate shut, replaced the chain, and clicked the padlock back into place.
Bobby froze. “Hey, that gate was locked! How did you—?”
Cassandra brushed his question aside with a wave. “No time for that. We need to leave, now!”
One house down, a white convertible Porsche sat in the middle of the alley. Cassandra slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Behind them, the back fence rattled as their pursuers reached the wall and began to climb. Bobby threw his bag in the back of the Porsche and leapt over the door into his seat. Cassandra winced at the dark smudges his sneakers left on the leather upholstery. She revved the engine, sending up a deafening roar as two agents dropped into the alley.
The one in front pulled a pistol. “Stop!” he yelled.
Cassandra slammed the Porsche into gear, rocketing down the narrow backstreet at breakneck speed. There was a loud crack as a bullet lodged in the back bumper.
Cassandra tossed her middle finger in the air. “You’ll pay for that!”

Bobby held his breath until they’d reached the end of the block and turned the corner. He leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath as the men disappeared behind him, ditched like a forgotten dream in the dawn of a new day.

R. Scott Boyer graduated from the Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley in 1996. In 2008, he became fascinated with the idea of blending young adult fantasy with new-age fiction. While maintaining a full-time job, he couldn't help but envision the kind of book he wanted to read. This exploration led to the creation of the Bobby Ether YA fantasy series, which combines spiritual elements with ancient myths and legends to create fun, fast-paced stories tailored for young adults but suited for adventure lovers of all ages.

Through his writing, Scott likes to explore various spiritual and metaphysical themes, including karma, serendipity, communion with nature, and the interconnectedness of all living things. In his free time, Scott likes to play basketball and tennis, as well as bike with his rescue dog, Patch. Over the years, Scott has been involved with a number of volunteer youth organizations, including United In Harmony, YMCA summer and winter camps, various basketball programs, and C5LA.

Raised in Santa Monica, California, Scott still resides in the Los Angeles area close to his family.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!

A Shifting of Stars #BookBlitz

Mind Games Blitz

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YA Sci-fi Mystery
Date Published: May 2019
Publisher: Carrick Publishing

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You know A. B. Carolan as the writer of The Secret Lab and The Secret of the Urns. Those novels are sci-fi mysteries for young adults (and adults who are young at heart). In Mind Games, A. B. tells a new story that’s set a bit farther into the future than his first two books. Della Dos Toros is a young girl with psi powers living in the Dark Domes of the planet Sanctuary. Her adopted father doesn’t let her use those powers, but she must do so to find his killer. This story about ESP and androids adds another action-packed novel to the ABC Sci-Fi Mystery series. Available in both print and ebook versions.

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About the Author

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The reclusive and ageless A. B. Carolan lives in Donegal, Ireland, where he spends most of his time writing stories for young adults and adults who are young at heart. There are rumors in Donegal that A. B. was raised by leprechauns. He says they like to joke a lot there. Other rumors in the Donegal area saying that he’s a distant relative of the great Irish harpist and composer Turlough O’Carolan are more believable—he loves O’Carolan’s music. He is good friends with author Steven M. Moore and communicates with his American friend a lot, as all good collaborators must do. Readers can reach him via the contact page at Steve’s website,

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday 30 May 2019

KISS ME NOT #CoverReveal


What do you do when you’re the reigning kissing booth champion but the only person you want to kiss is your best friend’s brother?

Kiss Me Not, an all- new hilarious brother's best friend standalone romance from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is coming August 27th and we have the fresh and fun cover!

Let me make this clear right here, right now: I, Halley Dawson, do not care that Preston Wright is kissing other women.
Not a lick. Not at all. Nuh-uh-freakin’-uh.
I do care that he’s doing it six feet away from me behind a gaudy velvet curtain—making him my competition in this year’s kissing contest.
Why do I care, you ask? Because I’ve had an unfortunate crush on the insufferable idiot since I was sixteen years old, but I also know it’s never going to happen.
He’s the Creek Falls bachelor to die for, and I’m the Creek Falls racoon lady who puts peanut butter sandwiches out for them every night.
I’m not going to let him break my four-year-long reign—no matter how many times he breaks the rules and slides the curtain across to do the one thing he’s not allowed to:
Kiss me.
Pre-order your copy today!
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About Emma Hart
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages. She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs. Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud. Yes, really. She's that sarcastic. EmmaHart.jpg
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His Magic Touch Tour and Giveaway

His Magic Touch
by Debby Grahl
Genre: Paranormal Romance 

The night before Jared Dupre's wedding, a specter warns him the demonic witch, Adam Montief, has kidnapped his brother in a centuries-old vendetta unknown to Jared. A powerful witch himself, Jared tracks Adam from New Orleans to a remote island off the coast of Connecticut, where he's given no choice. He must rescue his brother and break his engagement to Kendra O'Connell, or they both die. After complying, Jared engages in a sword fight and believes he has vanquished his foe, but when he returns to New Orleans, he finds evil still threatens all he loves. Kendra, not knowing why Jared broke their engagement, devastated, finds solace in another's arms. With help from an ancestor's spirit, can Jared defeat the dark magic descending over the Big Easy while winning back the woman he loves?

In the stifling heat, Angelique Montief flicked her wrist and set the bamboo ceiling fan spinning. Kneeling on a woven mat with sweat coating her body, she lifted a small wooden brass-bound casket from the bottom of a large trunk, inserted a gold key, and opened the lid. Inside two objects lay wrapped in thick cloth. She carefully unwrapped the smaller bundle to reveal a pentagonal mirror, a gift handed down to her by her grandmother, its ancient oak frame carved with tiny pentacles. She glanced over her shoulder at her locked bedroom door, then stared into the mirror and whispered, “Show him to me.”
When the glass remained blank, fear clutched at her chest. Again, she said the words, and the image of a plantation house engulfed in flames appeared. “No, please, he can’t be dead.” Tears blurred her vision. The fiery image changed to reveal a human form lying beneath flowering bougainvillea.
Hope rising, Angelique peered closer.
“Show me his face.”
She saw his indigo blue eyes blink open.
“I’m coming, my love.”
He couldn’t hear her, but she hoped in his heart that he knew she would find a way to get to him.
As the smoke in the room thickened, she knew her time was running out. She rewrapped the mirror and placed it into the smaller casket among cloth bags of herbs and potion-filled vials. Relocking the lid, she hung the key on a chain around her neck, dropped a jeweled dagger into her pocket, and tucked the casket under her arm.
Crouched beneath the smoke, she considered the quickest way to reach her son and escape.

Augustus had locked her in, placing what he thought would be an impenetrable shield across both doors. Angelique coughed, choked by the smoke. Her husband’s biggest mistake was underestimating her power.

New Orleans, known as the Crescent City or the Big Easy, just celebrated its three-hundredth anniversary. It was first settled by the French, then taken over by the Spanish, sold back to the French, who then sold it to the United States.
The city's historic past includes such characters as the famous pirate, Jean Lafitte, and the infamous Delphine LaLaurie who in 1834 was run out of New Orleans when her mansion caught fire and tortured slaves were discovered. And such locales as the notorious Storyville red light district, the iconic riverboat gamblers, and everyone's favorite party, Mardi Gras.
My husband David and I first visited New Orleans in 1989 and fell in love with the city. I’m a history buff by heart so I found the old Spanish architecture with its wrought iron balconies enchanting. All you have to do is walk the streets of the French Quarter to feel the magic.
There’s a saying, “Only in New Orleans.” And this is so true. As I sat on our hotel balcony sipping a glass of wine and munching on a bag of voodoo chips, I could see a musician setting up on the corner. Soon the clear sounds of his saxophone filled the night. The smell of spicy gumbo from the restaurant across the street wafted through the air. The clip clop of a horse- drawn carriage passed beneath me, its driver thrilling his passengers with tales of the ghosts who haunt the city. A man, painted silver, walked along juggling oranges, while a bicycle cab pedaled by. On Bourbon Street, a second line band marched past. A group of laughing tourists carrying red go cups went into a bar, and the long low whistle of a paddle wheeler on the river could be heard.
As I sat there taking it all in, I thought what a wonderful place to set a story. From its diverse people and cultures to its incredible food, such as hot sugary beignets, po boy sandwiches, and crawfish etouffee; every kind of music from funky blues to jazz, rock ‘n roll to country; and Voodoo shops, haunted houses, and above-ground cemeteries.
People claim witches and ghosts walk the streets, and I have to admit sometimes I believe it’s true. It was while touring St. Louis #1, the oldest above-ground cemetery in the city, standing in front of the tomb of the Voodoo queen, Marie Laveau, that the idea for His Magic Touch began. I swear she zapped me. I started feeling faint and had to leave the tour. Now, my husband will tell you it was
because of the heat, but I felt fine until we approached her tomb. I think my version is more interesting. I began my research into local witchcraft and hauntings.
The Hotel Monteleone, on Royal Street, is one of the settings I use in the book. Not only known for its Carousel Bar, it’s also one of the most haunted hotels in the city.

I hope His Magic Touch brings a little of New Orleans to life for you, and you’ll get a chance to visit this unique city on the Mississippi.

Debby Grahl lives on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, with her husband, David. Besides writing, she enjoys biking, walking on the beach and a glass of wine at sunset. Her favorite places to visit are New Orleans, New York City, Captiva Island in Florida, the Cotswolds of England, and her home state of Michigan. She is a history buff who also enjoys reading murder mysteries, time travel, and, of course, romance. Visually impaired since childhood by Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), she uses screen-reading software to research and write her books.
Her first published book, The Silver Crescent, won the Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers’ Choice award. Her second book, Rue Toulouse, a contemporary romance set in New Orleans, was a finalist in the National Excellence in Romantic Fiction Award and was selected as a May, 2016, ‘local read’ by Hilton Head Monthly.
Decorated to Death is a holiday mystery cozy. She also has stories in three anthologies, The Haunted West, Never Fear/Christmas Terrors; and Ebb and Flow from the local Island Writers’ Network.
Debby was featured in the January, 2016, Hilton Head Monthly article ‘Intriguing People of the Lowcountry’. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Florida Romance Writers, and First Coast Romance Writers.
Her latest book, His Magic Touch, was released December 5, 2018, by Wild Rose Press.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!

Who’s a Good Boy by Ada Scott #blitz

Who’s a Good Boy
Ada Scott
Publication date: May 24th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
Hazel Rivera was an untouchable small-town princess… but that summer five years ago, she was mine.
All it took was a few hours of hell to destroy the heaven we built. I left Shippensburg with nothing but the shirt on my back and my dog at my side. Leave or die, and ruin the lives of everybody I cared about at the same time. There was no choice.
Now I’m back. I need to find out how she could have done that to us, but somehow she’s got the nerve to be pissed at me? And why does her daughter have my eyes?
I’ll get my answers, make her remember how she used to run her tongue over my abs and dig her nails into my back, then I’ll leave this damn town forever.
Hazel nodded enthusiastically and held the plate in my direction. I took a brownie and Chopper whined at the brutal injustice of it all.
While chewing, I tried to maintain a poker-face, but under the scrutiny of Hazel and Chopper, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Mmmm… ok, all is forgiven.”
Relief visibly washed over Hazel’s face, and sweet holy fuck what a beautiful face it was. Maybe she wasn’t the unfathomable angel I had assumed from a distance. Maybe she was even better.
Hazel’s eyes flicked down to my bicep as I brought the brownie to my mouth for another bite, and I saw the tip of her tongue touch her lips for a second before she swallowed and looked me in the face again. Hazel, Hazel Rivera, was checking me out.
“So what are you going to be doing with yourself over the summer, now that you’re free?” I asked.
“Well, my friend Ella and I are hatching a scheme that would convince my parents to let me have a gap year. Other than that, just going to hang out with friends, maybe do a road trip before everybody scatters to the four corners of the world.”
“How’s that going for you? The scheme.”
“It’s… still unhatched, shall we say.”
Before I’d been kicked out of school, I’d had my pick of the girls, it had always been pretty easy for me. Since then, I’d gradually stopped going to the local parties, so I wasn’t sure if I was merely rusty or what, but I had almost as much problems getting the next words out of my mouth as Hazel had explaining the brownies.
“So… that’s the long-term plan, what about short term, like tonight?”
I swallowed. “Well, if you didn’t have plans and wanted to make sure you’d properly apologized, I’m free tonight.”
Hazel’s eyebrows rose along with one side of her mouth. “Oh really? I thought all was forgiven?”
“Well… maybe I misspoke. I’m still pretty offended.”
“Oh no…”
“So, what do you say? Tonight? I could pick you up around seven?”
“I can’t.”
My heart lurched again.
“But… I’m free this afternoon. Say four?” she asked, sheepishly.
“Yep, I can work with that,” I said.
A smile so pure and bright lit up her face that my only defense was to smile back. We stood there for a few seconds smiling like fucking idiots.
“Uh… well, here.” She held out the plate. “These are yours. I gotta go, but I’ll see you at four. You know where I live, right?”
I pointed in the direction of her house.
“That’s it,” she said, taking a few steps backwards. “See you then.” She turned away as she spoke.
“See you then,” I said, just barely loud enough for her to hear, before taking my own backwards steps away from the fence and turning around.
“Hey Jeff?” she called.
I turned.
“It’s a date, right?” Her face was threatening to turn pink again.
“It’s a date.”
Hazel smiled and gave me a rueful ‘gotcha’ point of her finger. If I could have her smile at me like that every day, I’d be a happy man

Author Bio:
A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I'll be there taking notes and making it even sexier :)


Life In The Wild #BookBirthday

Life In The Wild
Series Book Four
By D.V. Williams 

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤:
𝐁𝐮𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤: 

#OneClick #NowLive #DVWilliams#TigerSeries #LifeInTheWild 


Sometimes the enemy is closer than you think

Rebecca Taylor has it all: the music career she always dreamed of, fame, wealth, a man every woman would die for, and now her baby daughter. But success brings its own problems, including how to maintain it. In the fickle world of pop stardom, a career can be over so quickly.
When you’re famous, it seems the more you have the more people want from you and the more jealous they become. Everybody wants something different from you, and some will even lie, steal, and cheat to get it. So when things get difficult, who can you trust? When your private life becomes public property, how can you even be sure who you are anymore?
With her own life becoming more entangled in her best friend Linda’s hedonistic world of privilege and sensual pleasures and bound by loyalty to the people she loves, Rebecca is about to discover who is really on her side . . . and who isn’t.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐨

D.V. Williams grew up in the southeast of England. After leaving school he spent eighteen years in the automotive paint industry before retraining as a Science teacher.
But his heart always lay with words, music, and the creative imagination, spending any free time writing songs, playing a variety of instruments, and performing in bands. Encouraged by his wife he started writing, and once he started, he found he couldn’t stop.
The author is married with two teenage sons and lives in southwest Wales. They share their home with two cats, a neurotic collie, and an ever-growing collection of musical instruments.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

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Half Breed Haven #Blitz

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Half Breed Haven #1 Wilde-Fire
Historical Western Romance
Publisher: Cedar Ledge Publishing

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A gun battle on the streets of a fiery ghost town is only the beginning as the Wildes of the West plunge headlong into danger in another exciting western adventure. It’s do or die against some of the baddest men in the west and the price for failure will mean certain death and the end to their fight for justice along with their scorching escapades with the willing men of the west.

Saddle up for the ride and be immersed in all the action, adventure, romance and family drama that comes with being the formidable foursome known to friends and foes alike as THE DAUGHTERS OF HALF BREED HAVEN. A stunning multiracial quartet whose bravery, thirst for justice and love for each other is matched only by their unbridled appetite for the most casual and sizzling encounters with the opposite (or in Catalina's case, the same) sex.

With sharp wits and guns blazing, these four strong women heroines -the fair-skinned Cassandra, Asian Lijuan, mulatto Honor Elizabeth, and Mexican Catalina, all half-sisters, will risk it all as they face off against the most fearsome array of bank robbers, kidnappers, rustlers and murderers the old west has to offer.

Bad Guys will fall to their hail of bullets and Good Guys will fall as well…under their spell and into the nearest bed whenever any of these four capable, daring sexy female heroes come calling.

Wilde-Fire is the first installment of a female lead novel series, Half Breed Haven, where action, sibling suspense and bawdy romance combine in this female adventure novel forming a tale worthy of the wicked Wild West.

PLEASE BE ADVISED - The Sister’s escapades, be it braving the sometimes-violent west or their romantic escapades are recommended for readers, who like the Wildes, are 18+ years of age and above.

Other Books in the Half Breed Haven Series

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Half Breed Haven #2-In Danger's Shadow


Half Breed Haven #3 Dark Rivals


It was supposed to be a simple cattle buying trip until marauding cougars and a deranged cowgirl combine into lethal threats in a Lijuan Wilde adventure.

Half Breed Haven #4 Silver, Gold and Deception


Half Breed Haven #5 The Forbidden Ranch


Half Breed Haven #6 Sing the Death Song


Half Breed Haven #7 Disaster at Devil's Canyon


Half Breed Haven #8 Renegades and Revenge: A Daughters of Half Breed Haven


Half Breed Haven #9 Into the Lair of Los Rey Lobo


Half Breed Haven #10-Special Edition HBH Version of The Reaper of the Rio Sangre


Half Breed Haven #11-Special Edition-The Town of No Return


Half Breed Haven #12-Special Edition HBH Version-The Boot Hill Express


About the Author

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A.M. Van Dorn enjoys flipping the script on Westerns believing "Cowboys shouldn't have all the fun" by replacing the usual lantern-jawed cowboy hero with four bold, beautiful and brave half-sisters in the Wildes of the West/Half Breed Haven Series. Combining a love of old character-driven tv westerns such as Bonanza, The Big Valley, and The High Chapparal A.M. Van Dorn pays homage to these 1960's classics with a decisively 21st-century bent.

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