Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Cross by: D.A. Roach - Audio Tour

Title: Cross
Author: D.A. Roach
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: February 23, 2018
Narrator: Jeff Olyarnyk

Ray Cross wasn’t a hero; he could die too easily. But some things are worth risking death...

Ray Cross was born with a genetic disorder, resulting in a fragile body; his organs and blood vessels will rupture with any hard impact, so standing up to his best friend's controlling boyfriend could kill him.
Ray's life in Midland, MI gets decimated when his parents reveal they are not his real parents and his real father, a king from a secret land hidden in the far north of Canada, is dying and wishes to meet his son.
With his doctor and newly-met twin, Ray travels to the forgotten village of Yardis, where magic, myth, and corruption are abundant. But the longer Ray stays in the village learning the truth of his past and reconnecting with his father, King Vintras, the more he discovers an evil force threatening the king and his village.
But there’s more than the king and a village tied to Yardis and Ray. He finds friendship and more from a band of brothers who are part witch, dragon, and healer. With new alliances and new abilities, Ray wars with himself on playing it safe or risking it all to save the ones he loves.
Can Ray rise above his fragile disorder to become the hero for once in his life?


What an amazing book!!!! Like for real....the writing, the characters and the magic that is performed with the writing of this book.
The story.....OMG the story!!!! Ray Cross has a great normal...very  He does deal with an issue that affects his body. But his school, friends, parents are all what everyone would see as normal.  Until it isn't.
What happens when one day parents, friends and even the world we live in is vastly different? Secrets come out and myths become truths.
I listened to this in the car to and from work. It made my day!! Narrator was great and I loved this book!!!
Highly Recommend!!


D.A. Roach is a USA Today Bestselling author who has been telling stories since she was a young girl in the suburbs of Chicago. D.A. did not find a love for books until after college. Her parents were immigrants from Lithuania and found tv and radio easier ways to hear stories so they did not do much reading or encourage it. But once she finished college and D.A. had free time, she discovered how amazing it was to get lost in a story.
D.A. is a full time mom and wife. When she is not doing domestic things (laundry, bills, etc) she is writing, reading, creating mixed media art, advocating for a rare disorder, and gardening. Oh, and she is ALWAYS listening to music. Her favorite authors include Rebecca Donovan, Richelle Mead, Larissa Ione, Stephanie Meyer, E.L. James, and Nicole Williams. Reading great works from authors like these has motivated D.A. to write her own stories. She hopes to make positive changes in the world with her art and writing.
“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” ― George Bernard Shaw


Psychopath's Prey by V.F. Mason: Release Blitz + Review

Title: Psychopath’s Prey
Author: V.F. Mason
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publish Date: April 17, 2018
Review Source: Enticing Journey Book Promotions

Once upon a time she became mine.
Mine to hunt.

A criminal psychologist and a serial killer.
The love between them shouldn’t exist.
Or so the world thinks.
Her mission is to find him.
His single obsession is to catch her.
The hunter and the prey.
Let the games begin, and may the stronger one win.

Warning: Dark Romance.
18+ due to sexual content, profanity, abuse, graphic violence, and adult subject matter.

V.F. Mason has done it again. She has written a story that not only drew me in but shattered my heart and then slowly pieced it back together.

Psychopath’s Prey is raw. It’s gritty. It’s dark. It’s captivating. It’s REAL. Each and every aspect has you thinking twice about what you do and how you live your life. Can you be someone’s prey? Would you fall for your captor, or would your sole focus be on escaping? Would it change your mind if you knew your captor well?

Psychopath’s Prey is absolutely, hands down, one of the best stories I have read to date. V.F. slowly draws you in and builds you up to the suspense that is sure to happen. I have loved this author for quite some time now, devouring each book that she puts out and I won’t be stopping anytime soon!

V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her momma over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn’t happen. Finally, when she was tired of all those voices in her head, she sat down and wrote a book. It was a huge decision to make and she thanks her friends and family for supporting her in it. When she is not writing, she can be found with her friends doing all sorts of crazy things or reading recent romance books that were written by her favorite authors.


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Thursday, April 12, 2018

Sever (Closer, Book Two) by Mary Elizabeth: Book Tour + Review

Title: SEVER
Series: Closer Duet, Book Two
Author: Mary Elizabeth
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release: April 5th
Cover Designer: Sofie at Hart and Bailey Designs
Review Source: InkSlinger PR

Misery overstayed its welcome. But fate will not be so easily swayed. Gabriella Mason and Teller Reddy have walked a thin line between affection and hostility for years. The intensity that once set them on fire has ended their engagement and separated them by more than just miles.

Forced together by circumstances they never saw coming, Gabriella and Teller have no choice but to face the past that brought them together and ultimately severed them apart. Wrecked and Damaged have collided. This is what happens when they try to pick up the pieces.

I have yet to read a book by Mary Elizabeth that has not rocked me to the core. Sever was no exception. We had that fictitious carrot dangling in front of us for the entire length of the book and she did not let us catch it until the very end.

Teller and Ella are exactly the kind of messed up that I need in my life. Real, raw and hateful, yet compassionate. They can’t live without each other and they definitely can’t live with each other, either. There are parts where I want to yell “get the hell over yourself Ella, he’s paid enough!” And then a couple of chapters later, I’m yelling at Teller.

These two are easy to love and dig themselves right into your heart. You can’t help but root for them and hope for a happily-ever-after. One thing I do know is that I need Mary’s books, like I need air to survive. I crave her characters and long for her stories. If you haven’t had the pleasure of reading anything from Mary, do yourself a favor and pick up one today. Any of them. Don’t cheat yourself out of one of the best things you’ll ever buy. Do it!

I wish I were more surprised to see him. When Teller said I’m coming for you, I didn’t think he meant literally, but here he is, playing out a scene we’ve repeated many times before.

With my bare feet on the biting, splinted wooden porch, I stand over his sleeping form, smiling because he thought far enough ahead to bring a blanket just in case I didn’t let him in. The truth is, if he did knock when he arrived, I didn’t hear it. But he assumed right; I wouldn’t have opened the door.

Leaving a thermos of coffee beside his head, I shake my intruder awake and slip on my sandals resting on the steps before heading down to the walkway that leads to the street. “Get off my lawn, Teller.”

He isn’t coherent enough to reply in the time it takes for me to get in my rental car and drive away. And it isn’t until I’ve turned the corner that I allow his presence to crash down on me, bringing tears to my eyes.

You knew he’d show up eventually, I remind myself.

I told him I wasn’t ready for this, but since when has any Reddy taken someone else’s wishes into consideration, especially Teller?

 If he did give two fucks about my feelings, he would’ve told me about Kristi and Joe’s affair right away, and he wouldn’t have lied when I asked who Melanie was.  He would have told me right away she was the woman he cheated on Kristi with, when she confronted us at the hospital after we made our relationship official. His failure to do these things took me back to the days when our relationship was chaos, and I can’t do that again. I need more. I deserve more.

After I park my car at the home improvement store, I pull down the sun visor and wipe the tears from my face. Not a single day in the three weeks since I left him has been tearless, but these tears are particularly painful—these tears make the day I left him feel like it was only yesterday.

Taking my time to gather the supplies I need to paint the rooms in my childhood home, I walk up and down every aisle, like this is the most interesting store I’ve ever been to and my heart isn’t broken into a dozen pieces.

By the time I make it to the register to check out, my cart is filled with things I don’t need, and I’ve killed my painting budget.
“Looks like you have a big project on your hands,” the cashier says, scanning the buckets of paint, a tin flamingo statue, and a brownie maker.

I’m an emotional eater.

“Yeah,” I say, ashamed of my purchases. “I’m ambitious.”

In spite of my impulse buys, I didn’t burn more than an hour in there, and I don’t trust it was enough time for Teller to get a clue and off my porch. So, I go to Bed Bath & Beyond where I buy a crème brûlée torch, a neck pillow, wall art of the Golden Gate Bridge, and onion goggles.

Which is ironic considering I haven’t cooked a single meal since my return to St. Helena. I carry a few extra pounds around these days as substantial evidence.

Retail therapy takes the edge off, but the chili cheese fries and strawberry shake I order from a drive-thru almost make me feel normal. True to my word, I ambitiously shove a forkful of fries into my mouth as I pull curbside at my house. The empty porch leaves a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, but it’s what I want. I want time.

I’m walking up the small pathway with my food and shake, deciding to unload the car once I wake from the food coma I hope to succumb to after I finish my feast of carbs and high fructose corn syrup when Teller motherfucking Reddy emerges from the side of my house like a cat burglar.

“Dammit!” I scream. My heart stops, and I drop my lunch. The shake splatters everywhere, and my fries land upside down. “Look what you’ve done now. Why are you still here?”

The sight of my perfectly blended indulgence—made with real strawberries, not that fake shit—breaks me, and I tilt my face to the sky and cry out like the madwoman I am. The only thing he’s here to burglarize is what’s left of my sanity, and what I’ve picked up in weight, I’ve lost in mental wellness as it is.

“Your fries should be okay,” Teller says, picking up the container. 

He tries to give them to me, but I smack them out of his hands. 

This time the Styrofoam breaks open, and I kick my almost-meal across the lawn. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he asks.

White-hot anger fills me all the way up, turning into a firestorm when I notice he’s made himself comfortable. Dressed in a plain white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his jeans are caked with mud, and he’s cleaning dirt from his hands with a rag I remember leaving on the back patio.

“Because you’re not supposed to be here,” I shriek, shoving my hands onto his chest. He takes three steps back as I yell, “Put my rag back where you got it.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, dropping the rag to the ground with the food. “I was pulling weeds while you were gone.

 Curb appeal helps to sell a house.” Teller’s eyes shift to the For Sale sign perched at the edge of the lawn.

“No,” I say, reaching down for the rag, the empty cup, and what’s left of my chili fries container. “You don’t get to help me now. Go back to L.A., Tell.”


Walking away from him feels impossible, like my feet are stuck in cinder blocks, but I do it with my chin held high. It falls as soon as I shut the door and lock the deadbolt. I stand with my back against it for one, two, three breaths before I continue forward to the kitchen and dump everything into the trash.

With my hands braced on the counter, I drop my head between my shoulders and squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself, He’s a lying sack of shit. He’s a lying sack of shit. He’s a lying sack of shit.

Get SEVER Now on #KindleUnlimited

Read Volume 1 in the Closer Duet, CLOSER:

Mary Elizabeth is an up and coming author who finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets. Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She’s a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it’s perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she’s not letting go until every story is told.

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