Wordy Wednesday II

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What to look forward to from your favorite BestSelling authors

samreen-ahsanSamreen Ahsan, author of A Silent Prayer and A Prayer Heeded, is  writing a story about an angel who is sent to Earth on his vacation with a gift of “free will.”

Seb Kirby is a busy writer. Just months after releasing his third James Blake thriller, Forgive No More, he has also released the first two in the series, Take No More and Regret No More in paperback, and has an audiobook version of Take No More in  production.

Take No More ACX coverCurrently, he’s 20,000 words into a sequel to Double Bind, his science fiction thriller. “The new one is an alternative history of the first in which things work out differently because of some significant changes made in the past that our hero, Raymond Bridges, has to come to terms with,” Seb explains.

He is also planning a fourth story in the James Blake series in which James must come to terms with the kidnapping of his brother, Miles, and the attempts of Alessa Lando to take revenge for the loss of her son, Matteo.
New mom Shannon Mayer, is managing to get some writing in while the baby sleeps.
Look for new work in the coming months from the author of
Shannon Mayer

“My name is Rylee and I am a Tracker. When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I’m the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot.”

Priceless, the Nevermore trilogy and 

High Risk Love.  

Sydney Landon released a book early. Pierced hit the shelves on July 2.
Circumstances bring two people that should have never crossed paths together and in the days and weeks ahead, they grow close quickly, each seeing a kindred soul in the other. As ghosts from their past rise to haunt them, they cling to each other as their lives start to spiral out of control. Soon, they realize that they’re both damaged possibly beyond repair. Will their love be what saves or destroys them?
Pierced cover
Frederick Lee Brooke has released the first two novels in his Drone Wars science-fiction series since the beginning of the year, and is taking a bit of a breather. Don’t worry—he has drafted a third book in the series. You know he won’t be able to stay away from it for long.
NevermoreShaded

They were promised weight loss, the cure for Cancer, Parkinson’s Disease and infertility; they were promised hope. The side effects were anything but hopeful.

And speaking of being away for long, Patricia Sands is wrapping up her European tours and expects to be hard at work on her next book, following up The Bridge Club and The Promise of Provence. Readers can’t wait!TBC Kindle cover

 

HRL Amazon GR SW

It’s better to be safe, than to take a risk and have your life shattered into pieces alongside your heart.

 

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Win-A-Book Wednesday: High-Risk Love by Shannon Mayer

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HighRiskLoveCoverThis Wednesday’s Win-A-Book entry is Shannon Mayer’s High Risk Love.

To win a free e-copy, tell us what Ryan’s baby is. Put the entry in the Comments below, and we’ll pick randomly from the correct entries.

Shannon Mayer lives in the southwestern tip of Canada with her husband, dog, cats, horse, and cows. When not writing she spends her time staring at immense amounts of rain, herding old people (similar to herding cats) and attempting to stay out of trouble. Especially that last is difficult for her.

Visit Shannon’s

And follow her on Twitter @TheShannonMayer.

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Friday Focus: Priceless by Shannon Mayer

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pricelessPUblished

With the decision made on how I was going to handle at least that part of things, I headed back to the motel.

I poked my head back into the office before I went back to my room. “Hey, John. If anyone comes looking for me, dial me up first, would you?”

John frowned and scratched his head under his hat before answering. “Ain’t nobody come looking for you before. You ’specting trouble?”

I shrugged and bit off a piece of pepperoni. “Maybe. Hopefully not, I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow and don’t really feel like spending the evening fighting off FBI agents, no matter how cute they are.”

His laughter followed me back out the door and I could still hear him when I got to number thirteen—where the door stood open, the lock busted, splinters of wood scattered on the floor. Dropping my meager dinner and drawing my blade, I edged up to the door, keeping my back flat against the wall. For a good two minutes I was silent; I didn’t move, just listened. 

There was nothing, not a single heartbeat, breath, shuffle, or even any psychic energy thrumming through the air. I stepped into the room, still in a fighting stance, blade at the ready, despite what all my senses told me. I wished now I’d brought some of my other toys from the Jeep. I hadn’t really been thinking anyone would be gunning for me. Not yet anyway. No one in the supernatural community should have known that I was on the case. By tomorrow, yes, but not by tonight. With only one large weapon between me and hand-to-hand fighting, I was not a happy girl, no matter how good my hand-to-hand was.

A quick circuit of the room showed nothing, confirming what I already knew: it was empty, the intruder gone. I let out a sigh. Nothing like a pile of problems to make life interesting.

Then something fluttered to my left. I turned to get a closer look. The curtain had been shredded and was covered in long black hair. I recognized it immediately. It belonged to a very large and very determined werewolf.

Damn it all to hell and back.

I lowered my blade and felt the itch in my spine a split second too late as a hairy set of claw-tipped hands wrapped themselves around my throat. I let out a strangled squawk, my hands first going for the claws, and then stopping to lower my blade.

I couldn’t use it, not on this one.

Priceless Book 1 in Shannon Mayer’s Rylee Adamson series.

“My name is Rylee, and I am a Tracker.”

When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I’m the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot.

I’m on the FBI’s wanted list. I have a werewolf for a pet, a Witch of a best friend, and I have no need for anyone else in my life.

But when a salvage starts to spin out of control, help comes from a most unexpected direction. One that is dangerously dark, brooding, and doesn’t know a thing about the supernatural.

One whose kisses set me on fire.

Shannon Mayer lives in the southwestern tip of Canada with her husband, dog, cats, horse, and cows. When not writing she spends her time staring at immense amounts of rain, herding old people (similar to herding cats) and attempting to stay out of trouble. Especially that last is difficult for her.

Visit Shannon’s

And follow her on Twitter @TheShannonMayer.

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Friday Focus: Sundered by Shannon Mayer

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Shannon Mayer

Shannon Mayer

The door opened behind me and shut with a soft click. I kept my back turned to Sebastian, my spine rigid and my breathing slow and deliberate as I tried to rein my anger in. A whine from the bathroom and I stomped down the hallway and swung the door open. Nero tried to scamper between my legs but I scooped him up and held him tight. A minute passed and the anger started to drain out of me. Taking one last deep breath I carried Nero into the living room. I stared at the TV and came to a sudden stop, unable to take my eyes off the screen.

Dan leaned forward. “I’d hoped they’d have gotten it under control in the bigger cities at least.”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” I said, my hands trembling as I stroked Nero. Lists of major cities that had been overrun and were considered uninhabitable flashed on the screen in no particular order: Toronto, Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Edmonton, Brisbane, New York, Atlanta, Ottawa, London, Perth, Paris, Frankfurt, Berlin, Glasgow, Mexico City, Venice, Lima; the list went on and on, scrolling for a solid two minutes.

“Every continent has been hit by this catastrophe, though some obviously worse than others.” The male announcer’s voice blared to life on the screen and I jumped involuntarily. Nero gave a squeak and I kissed him on the top of his head.

The camera panned to a reporter in what looked like a bare-bones room, cement walls, and shelves of strange scientific-looking paraphernalia.

“Dr. Josephson, what can you tell us about the events? Will the drug wear off? What can we do about this situation?” the reporter asked, turning to the camera every few words, as if to gain permission from the viewing audience to ask the questions.

“It’s simple, even for a nincompoop like you, Blaine,” Dr. Josephson said.

“It’s Bruce.”

“Whatever. The drug was skipped through the FDA testing as well as Health Canada; money greased the wheels to hurry it to market. In the two months since it’s been out, it made over 1.6 trillion dollars. You can imagine how that would make a company eager to get it to the public.”

Bruce leaned in. “Those numbers can’t be right.”

Dr. Josephson snorted. “337 million people, give or take a few thousand, get the shot through legal means. That’s in North America alone. Five thousand dollars shot, one hundred people a day per clinic. You should do your research before you go on air Bruno.”

The doctor sat down on a ratty old stool and looked up into the camera, as if Bruce were no longer worth speaking to.

“There is no cure. There is no chance it will go away. It won’t wear off, it is designed to link permanently to the molecular structure of human bones, organs, and most importantly, brain. It cannot be transferred by a bite, as the modern movie culture would have you believe. These are not zombies, these are people gone feral, wild. They are acting as packs, not unlike a pack of wolves with an Alpha male and female, and the rest working as a group for food and protection.” His pale blue eyes seemed to bore into me and I shivered with the intensity. “To the public who have not taken Nevermore I will say only one thing,” He paused, dropped his head and shook it slightly before looking back up into the camera.

“Survive.”

 

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EXCERPT: High Risk Love by Shannon Mayer

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HRL Amazon GR SWThe wind blew straight off the ocean, bringing me a wash of salty air, hot sand and coconut sunscreen. But I couldn’t see Jasmin anywhere. Stepping off the path, I headed straight for the water, then stood with my head leaned back and considered shouting for her. A pale flash of yellow caught my eye at the far end of the beach.

There she was, squatting low, camera up as she took pictures of the local kids playing in the surf. They dodged and darted in front of her and she followed them, the camera a part of her.

Walking slowly, the sand pulling at my feet, I wove between the few blankets and towels on the beach until I stood a few feet behind her. She was laughing, her voice pairing with the kids squeals and swiftly chattered Spanish. Like music, it mesmerized me, and I stood there for a long time, just watching her, feeling like I was privy to something special.

To someone special.

I closed my eyes. Good God, I must have picked up something for me to be waxing poetic about a girl I barely knew, had only just met.

“Jet?”

My eyes flew open and I smiled without thinking. “Waiting on you, Spitfire. You done playing?”

A soft smile curved one side of her full lips and my mind wandered once more into dangerous territory.

There was only one thing to do. With a rush, I scooped her up onto my shoulder and gave her a spin, much to the delighted kids who were now screaming encouragement.

“What are you doing, are you crazy?” She said, grasping my shoulders.

“That’s what the doctor says.”

She punched my arm, not hard, but I fell to the ground, pulling her on top of me, then I held up my hands. “Oh, God, I think you bruised me.” I looked up at her with one eye. “Kiss it better?”ShannonMayer

Her response was to pull the camera out and start taking pictures, effectively blocking my attempt at charming her. Which was for the best anyway. She was right to push me away; something about her was too much, too intense. Not right for me. Though the flicker of desire in those green depths teased at me, and the feeling of her body quivering against mine in that split second before she scrambled away was almost enough to change my mind.

She was most definitely too good for me, without a doubt. I could acknowledge that, but with every moment I spent with her I became more and more convinced she wasn’t as immune to my charms as I’d thought. But that’s all it was, flirting, my usual, nothing more. This was fun, light.

Harmless.

I smiled, giving her a wink and the color rose up on her cheeks. Nope, there was no turning back, no way I’d quit flirting with her now, if nothing more than to see her squirm.

I wasn’t going to ease up.

Not for one second.

§ § § § § § §

Shannon Mayer is the author of the bestselling urban fantasy Priceless which has sold over 20,000 copies in its first two months. On her down time, she hangs out on the farm coming up with ideas for her next books, herds old people to the local cribbage club, and in general makes a nuisance of herself.

Connect with Shannon on Amazon  Facebook  Twitter  or of course on her Blog

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EXCERPT: High Risk Love by Shannon Mayer

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HRL Amazon GR SWSilence fell between us and I fought not to squirm in my seat. “So tomorrow. What time would be best for you Mr. Sterling?”

He grimaced. “God, don’t call me that. That was my father. Jet will be fine.”

I cleared my throat, “Sure. Jet. What time?”

“You are tenacious, aren’t you?”

“I make things happen,” I said, lifting my chin ever so slightly. “It’s why I was hired.” Okay, so I was stretching it a little, but he needed to know I was serious. All business.

His eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair, a smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Damn. And you always get what you want?”

The air all but quivered between us, his words a subtle challenge I couldn’t resist.

With a slight nod of my head, I answered. “Always.”ShannonMayer

His smile widened, and my mouth dried up. I was in over my head with this one. I had so little experience with men I barely knew where to start and where to stop. If only Lily were here to whisper suggestions in my ear; she was much better at dealing with guys than me.

I stood up, maybe a tad too fast. “I will be at your set at ten. I believe that is reasonable, and I’d like to get some work done before the hottest part of the day.”

Gathering up my camera, I turned and started to walk away. If he made this difficult, I could always tell Kevin that Jet wasn’t willing to have his picture taken. That he refused to make appointments.

The night was cool, and after a few minutes I slowed my steps and put a hand against the nearest building. Talking to him had been like standing on the edge of cliff, the wind tugging and pushing you closer to the edge until you finally gave up and jumped. But that wasn’t me. I was no high-risk girl; there would be no jumping off silly cliffs in my future.

At the sound of steps behind me, I whirled, letting out a somewhat relieved sigh that it was Jet, and not some mugger after my camera—Lily had assured me I’d be running into at least three potential muggers a day while I was here.

He cleared his throat. “Did I offend you?”

I frowned. “You mean because you came onto me in the stairwell?”

Smiling, he seemed unashamed, which intrigued the hell out of me, a feeling I determinedly squashed.

“I don’t regret that. But I’m sorry if I upset you back there.” He pointed with his thumb back toward the cafe.

“I’m used to people who are willing to work with me, not ones who won’t make reasonable appointments.” I kept my hands on my camera in front of me. No need for him to know he was my first actual assignment.

“I’m willing,” he stepped up beside me. “To work with you.”

I swallowed hard. “Right. That’s good. Because your other option was a pimple-faced geek with a bad attitude and bad hair.”

“I definitely got the better end of the deal then, didn’t I?” He said, his voice softening.

Nope, we were not going there.

He’s drawing you in, Jazzy. Be careful, this one will suck you under. Ryan’s voice echoed through my mind and I agreed with him. Jet was dangerous. He was what was waiting for me at the edge of the cliff. Dangerous for every part of me—mind, body and heart.

I shook my head, a nervous laugh sneaking out of me. “Okay. Well. Goodnight.” Turning away from him, I called over my shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow. At ten.”

He jogged to my side, and then got in front of me and started to walk backward. “I should probably walk you to your hotel, unless it’s too far to walk, in which case I will do the gentlemanly thing—which let me tell you does not come easy to me—and I will call you a cab.” His lips curled up and he gave me a wink. The same kind of wink Hugh had given me, but this time my palms started to sweat, and I had the ridiculous, out-of-control urge to touch the corners of his mouth and feel him smile against my skin. Still bad, a very bad idea.

That wasn’t the worst of it. I don’t know how he knew I was thinking about his mouth, but his eyes suddenly dipped to my mouth and I couldn’t stop the catch in my breathing. He stopped, forcing me to stop or run into him.

“Then again, my hotel is right over there,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes from me, didn’t even touch me, his words seemed to force my heart into overdrive.

“Very close. I think you’d like it. Bright blinding fiesta colors you can’t even see once the lights are out.”

Then he did reach out and ran one finger along the edge of my jaw, sliding over my slightly parted lips, pinching the bottom one; he pulled lightly on it. I surprised myself by letting him. “Jasmin.” My name on his lips was nearly my undoing. Nearly.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his face, the shape of his jaw, the slight shadow of stubble across his chin and cheeks. I fought against the rush of anticipation and heat pooling between my legs.

“Can I . . .” I managed to get out, my brain unable to put the words I needed together in a full sentence.

“You can have anything you want,” he said, closing the distance between us, his head lowering, hands shifting to my waist, pressing into the curve there as he pulled me against the heat of his body. The feel of his hard planes against me stole what was left of my words. I had to stop this. Now.

§ § § § § § §

Shannon Mayer is the author of the bestselling urban fantasy Priceless which has sold over 20,000 copies in its first two months. On her down time, she hangs out on the farm coming up with ideas for her next books, herds old people to the local cribbage club, and in general makes a nuisance of herself.

Connect with Shannon on Amazon  Facebook  Twitter  or of course on her Blog

 

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