Sunday, May 29, 2016

Review: Shadow Rider by Christine Feehan


I only have read a handful of Feehan's work and by far this has to be my favorite hands down! Shadow Rider is the first book in the Shadow series and right away I already love this new world and the Ferraro siblings. I found this book on the contemporary side with a paranormal twist which doesn't include vampires or werewolves but a family that can mask themselves in shadows which was totally cool and different. 

The Ferraro family is a powerful family in Chicago which is led by Stefano who is really badass. He is the eldest of 5 brothers and has a younger sister. The shadow walker legacy goes back centuries but often they never find their other half but Stefano lucky and comes across Francesca purely by mistake but it turns out to be the best thing in his life for she is also a rider. 

Stefano must convince Francesca to accept all of him and she does very slowly. Often she gets frightened by his hard tone and bossy nature but that only makes Stefano more attractive. 

Normally I would have favorite characters while reading but in Shadow Rider I couldn't find a favorite and really enjoyed all the characters especially the Ferraro family. Stefano was 100% alpha, he was bossy, sexy and had this deadly air around him but I also found him charming, sweet and very protective of his family and his neighborhood. I really liked how Francesca held her ground and gave him sass while still getting to know him. While she never lead the life that he did once she started to trust him I enjoyed how comfortable she started to become. 

The sex scenes are very detailed and last over numerous amount of pages. Stefano and Francesca go at it like bunnies and the things they do had them heating up the pages! While Stefano might not be a Dom he definitely takes control in the bedroom. 

There were somethings that were repeated throughout the story that didn't need to be but overall this action packed story had me on the edge of my seat. I thought the story was unique and while it's not a typical romance the outcome was very well put together. Towards the end of Shadow Rider it sets up the next story for one of Stefano's brothers and already I'm looking forward to reading it. This is one series that is going on my auto buy list! 

Review: Just Kiss Me by Rachel Gibson

“Hello, Ms Vivian…it’s been a long time.”

And with those words, Vivian Leigh Rochet nearly melted. It’s been years since she last saw Harrison Whitley-Shuler. She was a teenager scrubbing houses for a living. He was gorgeous son of rich parents, not fit for the likes of her. 

Vivian had vowed to get out of Charleston, become a big Hollywood star, and stick it to the snooty girls who made her cry. She’s got what she wanted-and more-but why does her glamorous life seems so trivial? 

Harrison got out too…making it all the way to Wall Street, until a heart attack forced him to trade in his cuff-links for a good set of hand tools.  

Making furniture soothes his soul, but escaping the Whitley-Shuler heritage is nearly impossible. And now he’s come face-to-face with the one who got away. He’s not looking for love. He’s not even looking for sex…so why is resisting her the hardest thing he’s ever done…?

Before I get into the review I wanted to note that while the blurb says the characters are Harrison and Vivian in the review copy they are Henry and Vivien while I don't think it's a big deal I hope the publisher will fix this before release. 

What I loved about Just Kiss Me was the humor and that's definitely something you can count on in Gibson's novels. In this story we meet Vivien as an adult who is a successful actress but we also get to know the thirteen year old girl through her Dear Diary moments. I have to say those were some of the funniest moments and it reminded me of my own Dear Diary moments at that age. I thought the way that Gibson tapped into those moments were pure genius and super funny. 

Vivien looses her mother suddenly and returns home to take care of her house and affairs. While home she gets some surprises and yet she takes each and every one of them in stride. I really loved her character she was strong, funny and was really charming. I found her to be the perfect heroine that fit Henry's character really well. I didn't warm up to Henry until a little later in the story but once I did I also found him to have charming qualities and loved his loyalty towards his family and then Vivien. 

Not only did these two characters have great chemistry in and out of the bedroom but they had great tension between them. Each time they were around one another I noticed that their banter was like foreplay and it was only a matter of time before they gave into it. 

Gibson delivered some surprises throughout Just Kiss Me that I was not expecting. I don't want to give them away but without these surprises I'm not sure I would have enjoyed this story as much as I did. 

I thought the ending was a little abrupt and wished it was drawn out a little more. With that being said I have to thank Gibson for at least including one last chapter done in a Dear Diary fashion which gave me some information about her and Henry's future. It was cute and I was glad to see these two were going to have the HEA they deserved. 

In this story Henry's brother was introduced. I found him funny and likable so hopefully he will get his own story one day. If you love Rachel Gibson's stories as much as I do you don't want to miss Just Kiss Me! 

Review: The Trouble with Mistletoe by Jill Shalvis

If she has her way . . .

Willa Davis is wrangling puppies when Keane Winters stalks into her pet shop with frustration in his chocolate-brown eyes and a pink bedazzled cat carrier in his hand. He needs a kitty sitter, stat. But the last thing Willa needs is to rescue a guy who doesn’t even remember her . . .

. . . He’ll get nothing but coal in his stocking.

Saddled with his great-aunt’s Feline from Hell, Keane is desperate to leave her in someone else’s capable hands. But in spite of the fact that he’s sure he’s never seen the drop-dead gorgeous pet shop owner before, she seems to be mad at him…

Unless he tempers “naughty” with a special kind of nice . . .

Willa can’t deny that Keane’s changed since high school: he’s less arrogant, for one thing—but how can she trust him not to break her heart again? It’s time to throw a coin in the fountain, make a Christmas wish—and let the mistletoe do its work . . .

Shalvis started her brand new series off with a bang with Sweet Little Lies due out June 28th and followed up with The Trouble with Mistletoe which will be out in September. In the second installment it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas well at least in Heartbreaker Bay it is and Willa is about to find her love match with Keane, a man who stood her up once before but the worst part he doesn't even remember her. While Willa is trying to stay strong and resist Keane's charms Keane is set on getting to know the beautiful Willa and finding out why exactly she dislikes him. 

I love Christmas stories especially ones that have a great romance included and this was one of them. While I didn't love it as much as Sweet Little Lies, I still had a soft spot for these characters. Keane doesn't know about settling down and flipping houses is his thing but the more time he spends with Willa the more things around him are starting to stick including his aunts cat who gets into plenty of trouble. Keane was the new character in this series and I really liked how he ended up fitting in with Willa and her friends. He's smart, sexy and oh so charming even I was falling a little bit in love with him especially when he started talking to petunia. 

As far as chemistry went these two had it! From the very first time when Keane walks into Willa's pet store the air charges around them. It takes a while for Keane to convince Willa to give him a shot and I loved that about these two. This story was definitely about the romance and winning the HEA these two deserved. I do wish there were more love scenes but the way Keane was courting Willa totally made up for that. 

Of course we see the rest of the gang and man do I already love these new characters! The story was well written and I really loved that it takes place in San Fransisco. The descriptions of not only the weather but the things around the town actually made me want to visit one day.

Shalvis delivers another series that I just can't get enough of. Already I'm looking forward to Accidentally on Purpose which is due out January of 2017. If you loved the Lucky Harbor series you won't want to miss Heartbreaker Bay. Come fall in love with the characters, the new city, and the new HEAs that will leave you swooning! 

Storm Born by Amy Braun Blog Tour

Storm Born
Amy Braun
Blog Tour
A single night can change your life… for the worst.
It’s been a century since the last Centennial Storm, the calamitous phenomenon that covers the world in disasters– tornadoes, hurricanes, blizzards, tsunamis, and dust storms– caused not by nature, but by alien creatures from another realm. The Stormkind.
Ava Reid tries not to think about that night, when she was caught in a hurricane and face to face with one of the Stormkind, the man with a dagger, and the agony she felt when he stabbed her with a crystal blade. Yet as she and the rest of Florida’s citizens begin to rebuild their lives, Ava can’t help but notice strange things happening around her. Things she seems to be causing. The gusts of wind and sudden floods that attract the attentions of a mysterious stranger leaving her clues, and the deadlier men following her.
It isn’t long before Ava is swept up into a wild conspiracy, led by a secret society that knows the truth about the Stormkind– and what their enemies have planned for the world she loves. If she wishes to protect her friends and her family, Ava must harness her strange new abilities and become part of the Stormkind society. Because if she loses control, there will be no force strong enough to stop her…
Chapter 1
“They’re almost here,” my father said.
I watched the heavy storm front dragging over the violently churning ocean. It towered over the houses and shelters, a menacing wall of pitch black cloud. The darkness beyond it seemed endless, like the horizon was being swallowed up by a black hole.
So much for this summer’s tan, I thought to myself.
Spastic light cracked past the windows of the house. The flashes weren’t lightning, though the rain was falling heavily onto the roof of our house. Gusts of wind pummeled the streets, pushing the palm trees so hard I was certain they would bend in half.
We’d proofed it as much as we could for the Centennial, but it wouldn’t be enough. Even though we knew this was the year, that history and technology had given us the tools and warning we needed, it hadn’t made a difference.
Nothing could have prepared us for the Centennial Storm, or the things that came with it.
The flashes of light increased in frequency. With them came a low, rumbling sound from overhead. It sounded like thunder, but wasn’t. It didn’t crack in a loud burst and grumble back to the clouds. No, this went the opposite way. The thunder started in a low menacing growl, then became louder and louder until it was a roar that sent a shudder through the entire house.
My vision still had white spots from the light flashes. My father grimaced as he slammed the last of the iron hatches shut and locked the window closed. The thick metal looked like it belonged on a bank vault, but it didn’t reassure me like it should have.
We hadn’t won the Lottery, so we weren’t to be evacuated underground, and there was nowhere we could run. The Centennial didn’t just hit our unlucky little state of Florida.
The Centennial hit the entire world.
I suppose we should have been a little more grateful to the Storm Protection Union for making sure we had supplies and a thoroughly reinforced house, but honestly, I would have rather been underground with the rich and powerful, and the lucky Lottery winners. They might be trapped under five hundred feet of earth, but at least they were safe. All the rest of us could do at this point was ride it out and hope for the best.
The “thunder” that had made our house violently shudder before was now shaking it. Photo frames collapsed and shattered on the floor. Chairs skidded and toppled. Sofa legs and tables squeaked as they scraped over the floorboards. Something over our heads ripped. I clutched my father’s arm and looked up. Pieces of the ceiling were being torn away; exposing meager joists, crumbling drywall, cracked plaster, and fragments of a tumultuous grey sky.
My father grabbed my hand and dragged me to the storm-shelter in the basement. My mother and little brother were already inside, waiting for us. James was ten, and he wasn’t strong enough to reinforce the house. Especially not with his asthma. I was eighteen and used to lifting heavy things around at my job– whoever said being a waitress was for the weak had clearly never done the work before¬– so I took Mom’s place to help Dad.
We were supposed to be done ten minutes ago, but with Dad’s back problems and my stupid curiosity with the Centennial, we stayed up here longer than we should have.
 I swore it would be the last time I ever stopped and stared at a hurricane with dread fascination.
Dad reached the basement door and knelt down to pry it open. The veins in his neck bulged and his face was tight with pain. I wanted to help him, but it was a set of dual metal doors with two thick iron door pulls acting as handles, both of which were only big enough for one set of hands to grip. All I could do was wait, shoving my trembling hands through my hair and try not to have a complete meltdown.
I couldn’t hear anything over the raging storm. Looking around, I could see more furniture bouncing across the floor. The tremors from the thunder rippled up my legs, sinking into my bones. My entire body felt like it was caught in an electric shock, though there was no pain.
I guess I should have been grateful. The worst injury I’d ever had was a sprained ankle, and I intended to make sure that the worst thing I ever endured.
Dad finally heaved the door open, the metal groaning heavily. I peered down, seeing the wide terrified eyes of James and my mother. He was crying; his little arms wrapped around her so tight he was all but strangling her. My mother held him close, gripping his inhaler like it was a sword. Her eyes, bright and blue like mine, were bulging from her head with fear.
I knelt down and was about to climb into the basement when I looked at my father.
Beads of sweat sheened across the line of reddish-grey hair on his forehead. His eyes were pinched shut with pain, his hands clamped over his shoulders. He must have pulled something–
The front door groaned and swung open, smashing into the wall so hard it left a dent. Beyond it, I could see the hammering rain, the ocean water flooding the streets, tumbling garbage cans and mailboxes…
And the flash of white light that streaked down from the clouds.
My heart clenched in my chest.
We were in the center of it. They were here.
Another gust of wind screamed through the door, pushing a gale of water into the front entrance. My father and I staggered back. The water snapped around our feet and poured into the basement. My mom and James both screamed. Salt water continued to flow inside. In seconds, it covered our ankles.
My Dad’s eyes flicked to the door, then locked with mine.
“Get inside, Ava!”
I hesitated, thinking about the way he was holding his shoulders, the pain he was trying– and failing– to hide. He was going to close the door, but with his back issues and pulled muscles, he wouldn’t be able to do it fast enough, if he could at all. The basement would flood, and we would all drown.
“I’ll get the front door!” I shouted at him.
“No!” he yelled back immediately. “Don’t even think about it–”
“I’m not hurt!” I roared back. “I can close the door and open the basement door again. Just hide!”
My Dad didn’t want to leave me, but he knew I was right. He was too hurt to do close both doors. I wasn’t exactly Xena, Warrior Princess, but I had enough strength to close the front door, get into the shelter, and close it behind me.
Salty ocean water whipped around my calves. It funneled into the basement where James and Mom were screaming for us to get inside. I grabbed my father’s arm and started pushing him down. He tried to fight me, tried to protest, but he grimaced when I touched his shoulder. I made sure he was able to hold the ladder, then grabbed the heavy metal door and pulled it shut. The door was watertight, so there was no chance they would drown. The water had been high, but not high enough to cause them real distress.
The water around me, on the other hand… Different story and a severely different stress level.
My eyes stung from the sea salt as the water splashed across my face. I stood up, my arms and legs now soaked and my clothes clinging to my skin. I splashed through the water and raced for the door. Well, not exactly raced. More like dragged. The torrent of ocean water crashed against me, trying to push me back into the house. I made it to the door, but had to cling to the frame to keep my balance. I gripped the edges of the heavy iron and started to pull. The metal resisted me, unwilling to move against the heavy flow of water.
A flash of light slashed through my vision. My traitorous eyes followed it.
Bits of shingle and roofing spiraled through the air like flakes of deadly ash. The trunks of palm trees splintered as they snapped in half, their big leaves ripped from their crowns. Flooded cars were carried through the flow of water barreling down the street. Trash and debris followed it. If anyone was crazy enough to still be outside, I couldn’t see them, couldn’t hear them scream.
But I wasn’t really looking at the destruction. I was looking at the center of the street, directly across from me. The way the water broke apart around the figure standing in it, as if it were Moses beginning to part the Red Sea.
I was frozen with shock. I saw it. I was looking at one. I could barely believe it, but I knew it was true.
A Stormkind.
Its body was made of water, shafts of pale blue light outlining its skeleton. The water shimmered over the light like water over stone, rippling and calm.
For a second, that’s exactly what it was– calm. It just stood there. Maybe it was looking around, though I didn’t know how it would have done so. It had no nose or mouth. Two almond-shaped eyes glowed from its face like halogen headlights. It was a disturbing, alien thing.
Nobody knew what the Stormkind really were or where they had come from, because nobody that encountered one had gotten close enough to study them, let alone stop to have a chat with one.
That single second ended, and I remembered why.
The Stormkind lifted its arms. The water around it crested in a tidal wave. The Stormkind twisted and pushed its hands toward the houses across the street. The tidal wave mimicked its movements and slammed into the houses, obliterating them like they’d been made of matchsticks.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle my scream, thinking about my neighbors that lived in those houses. The Wilsons with their unbearably loud truck. Mrs. Tucker with her yappy dog. The Cortez’s with their newborn baby.
None of them had won the Lottery. All of them could be dead now.
The Stormkind bent its arm over its head in an awkward wave. A huge gust of wind crested over the street, pushing the debris and snapping more palm trees. It also pushed the water closer to the Stormkind.
That was when I saw the body.
I couldn’t really see who it was. I recognized them as being male, but that was it. They flailed and thrashed as their head bobbed up and down in the water. I wanted to help, but I was frozen at the door. I couldn’t have moved even if I wanted to.
And I wasn’t sure I did. As terrifying as all this was, I had to admit that I was amazed. Everyone who had seen a Stormkind before today was now dead. 
Photographs of them were rare and accused of being fakes. But I knew what I was seeing was real. It couldn’t be anything but genuine. Morbid curiosity had dug its hooks into me, and I didn’t know how to let go.
The man drifted to the Stormkind. He tumbled out of the wave and rolled onto the concrete. The Stormkind reacted with quick, violent grace. It grabbed the man’s shoulders– my heart lurched when I recognized Mr. Cortez– and lifted him like he was a rag doll.
Then the icy blue light in its body drifted up, out of its face, and slid into Mr. Cortez’s screaming mouth. The light obscured their faces, but I saw the illumination in the Stormkind intensify. Mr. Cortez’s legs kicked and jerked helplessly.
Then they stopped. The light drew back from the Stormkind’s face.
Mr. Cortez was limp and grey.
The Stormkind dropped my neighbor’s lifeless body and scurried around the street, pushing the winds and gathering more water. It shoved the waves aside, each one battering more homes to splinters. One of the waves crashed onto my street, sending a barrage of ocean water right into my face.
I coughed it out and spat the salt from my mouth. Served me right for standing and gawking at the alien controlling the hurricane on my street.
I backed up and gripped the iron door. While I’d been gawking, the water flooding into my house reached my thighs. I panicked when I thought about how it could have drowned my family, but threw the thought aside when I remembered they were safe in the basement, locked behind a watertight door.
A door I had no chance of opening now that it was smothered in a layer of heavy water.
My heart thundered with panic. I didn’t have a way to protect myself. Even if I could close the front door– and another minute of pushing and cursing told me I couldn’t– I had no protection in the house. The roof was coming apart. The first level was totally flooded. If I weren’t hurled through the air from the wind, I would drown in the flood.
I shoved my hands through my hair again, gripping the red strands by the roots as if it would help me think.
But I couldn’t even do that. I was too damn scared. My heart was on a rampage, punching at my ribcage while my brain screamed at me to think think think!
There were procedures for this kind of thing. When the Storm Protection Union realized this would be the year of the next Centennial, they made the government pass laws that forced schools to teach us how to handle natural disasters. Dust storms, floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, blizzards, anything and everything. It was like being in the Spetsnaz, but without being trained how to kill.
Yet try as hard as I did– and I was two seconds away from giving myself an aneurysm due to the pressure I was putting on my brain as I scoured it for memories– I couldn’t remember anything. The information just wouldn’t come.
My best bet now was to find an SPU station. They were everywhere, especially in the oh-so-weather-lucky state of Florida. They had the best facilities for anyone who didn’t win the Lottery and couldn’t afford to modify their house. If I could find them, I could ride it out. I would be safe.
The nearest SPU station was... Oh, God, look at the tide... Park Vista, my high school! Five blocks away.
Might as well have been on the goddamn moon.
But I could get there. I would get there. I mean, how hard could it be? I liked to surf, and I was the best swimmer at my school.
I was also clinging to adrenaline, fear, and hopeless dreams, but I didn’t have time to focus on rationality.
I took a deep breath, gathered the remnants of my courage and sanity, and left my house.
The hurricane winds knocked me over. I yelped when I hit the rising water, but was able to at least turn around.
Okay. Not a great start. But at least I wasn’t upside down.
I dragged my arms through the current, turning my head to check on the Stormkind. It must have had its back to me because the houses across from me were still being destroyed. It ran back and forth, swinging its arms wildly, water and wind battering the wood to splinters. It drew the ocean water forward, then hurled it aside. Was it looking for other people to...You know what? I didn’t actually want to know. Swimming faster. That’s the secret I wanted to uncover right now.
My arms strained as I punched them into the water. It fought me the whole way, but I kicked and pushed myself. I moved through the water slowly, but I was making progress. I was almost at the end of the block, and while the ocean water and heavy rain was absolutely freezing me– warm, Florida seawater, this was not– I concentrated on the SPU station. They would have everything: strong walls, warm blankets, dry clothes, hot chocolate–
The current I was in abruptly crested. Salt water pooled in my throat and surrounded me. My body was lifted, out of control. I felt myself being pushed, but I didn’t know where I was going. Up and down were perceptions. My eyes burned as I tried to look through the murky grey water. My mouth was closed, but I could taste the salt water I’d stupidly swallowed scorching through my throat. The violent churns of the ocean pummeled my ears, becoming nightmarish. My heart was beating way too fast.
I had no idea where I was, or what was in the water with me. I was trapped, helpless to do anything if a submerged mailbox or car hit me. Oh God, why did I do this? What the hell was I thinking? Where was I, what was around me, where was the surface, I needed to breathe, I can’t breathe–
The tidal wave punched into my back. I flipped end over end until my spine crashed into slick, unforgiving concrete. I hacked and vomited water, dragging air into my parched lungs. I was shaking, though I didn’t register the cold.
What I did register were the walls of water around me, cocooning me in the single open space on the street.
Horror filled my aching body. Mr. Cortez’s corpse was no longer in this space.
But I wasn’t alone.
I flipped over, a scream hitching in my throat.
The Stormkind towered over me like some ancient ocean god, its glowing white eyes searing my own retinas. Water cascaded around its featureless body, making the beacons of light in its skeleton shiver.
It reached for me, and I raised my arm uselessly, opening my mouth to scream–
A flash of light seared my vision. It concealed a dark shape that crashed into the ground inches from my feet. I shrieked and scuttled back. My heart couldn’t take much more of this. If I didn’t pass out, I might become one of the only eighteen year olds to die of a heart attack.
The light between me and the Stormkind faded. In its place stood a man.
Not a Stormkind, but legitimate man. He was tall and broad, his hair the same silver as the long-sword in his hand. He was as drenched as I was, rainwater running across the black leather and steel plating of his armor. On the metal plate covering his back was some kind of insignia– a series of jagged waves sliced in half by an upturned sword.
I could barely comprehend what just happened, who this man was, and why he looked like he was on his way to some kind of Renaissance Fair for Badasses. But I did know that the Stormkind didn’t attack him.
It moved away from him.
Whoever this man was, the Stormkind was terrified of him.
“You have devoured already, Wild One,” the man said, his voice deep and raspy, like gravel mixing with smoke. “This one is not yours.”
The man turned on his heel and looked at me. My heart skipped another beat.
He was in his late forties, and alarmingly handsome. The shockingly silver hair was tied at the back of his neck, displaying a hawkish face of sharp angles. His skin was paler than my own, and he didn’t have so much as a single blemish or age-worn scar. The man looked perfect, in a harsh way.
Except for his eyes.
They were so dark they appeared black to me, twin voids that threatened to suck the life from me if I stared into them for too long. I saw nothing in them, no emotion that I could recognize. This man chilled me worse than any part of the storm I was trapped in.
When he spoke again, I felt my heart freeze.
“This one is mine.”
I must have heard him wrong. He couldn’t have meant me. I was nobody. A waitress struggling to pay her way through college. I didn’t have any big connections and had never gotten so much as a parking ticket.
But this man didn’t see me that way. He eyed me like I was prey.
A panicked breath strained out of my chest and I flipped around, desperate to get to my feet. The man grabbed my ankle and pulled. I landed hard on my stomach. He pulled me across the concrete. My fingers scrabbled and skidded over the road, burning and slipping away from traction I didn’t have.
He let go of my ankle and grabbed my hair instead. I yelped at the sharp pain as he pulled me back to meet his eyes.
They weren’t just dark. They were black, so deep I couldn’t even see his pupils.
I wanted to beg, fight, do anything to make him let me go. But I knew I was mercilessly trapped.
His inky eyes traced my body, scrutinizing instead of leering.
“You are not ideal,” he growled. “But I am short on time. You will have to do.”
I didn’t know what he meant, didn’t even know how to start asking, when he reached for his belt and took out a dagger with a light in the crystal blade.
I didn’t have time to admire the weapon’s beauty before the man stabbed it into my chest.
I screamed at the pain, but it wasn’t just because I’d been stabbed. I only felt that initial sharp, burning punch for a single second.
After that, I felt everything else.
Agony whipped through my body in a blistering wave. A sharp, hammering sensation pounded through my chest, spilling into my veins like a violent flood. My insides thrashed viciously, as though they were being electrocuted. Hot and cold needles stabbed into my bones and skull. It felt as if my insides were charred, broken into pieces that would never be whole again.
I couldn’t see past the white spots snapping through my vision. I couldn’t hear anything but my screams. I had never wanted to die before.
Now it was the only thought on my mind.
Just when I was certain the splinters of torture had finished destroying my very being, something dislodged from my chest, a weight lifted from my heart.
I had no more breath to scream. My body had lost all tension. Then there was nothing at all.
Amy is a Canadian urban fantasy and horror author. Her work revolves around monsters, magic, mythology, and mayhem. She started writing in her early teens, and never stopped. She loves building unique worlds filled with fun characters and intense action. She is the recipient of April Moon Books Editor Award for "author voice, world-building and general bad-assery," and the One Book Two Standout Award in 2015 for her Cursed trilogy. She has been featured on various author blogs and publishing websites, and is an active member of the Writing GIAM and Weekend Writing Warrior communities. When she isn't writing, she's reading, watching movies, taking photos, gaming, and struggling with chocoholism and ice cream addiction.
DAMNATION'S DOOR, the third CURSED novel (June 2016)
MIDNIGHT SKY, the second DARK SKY novel (August 2016)
AMBER SKY, the first DARK SKY prequel novella (October 2016)
ENGINEERED DECEIT, a DARK SKY short story in GHOSTS, GEARS, AND GRIMOIRES from Mocha Memoirs Press (November 2016)
SMOKE SKY, the second DARK SKY prequel novella (December 2016)
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RELEASE BLITZ & Giveaway: Sordid by Nikki Sloane

Title: Sordid 
Author: Nikki Sloane
Genre: Dark Erotic Romance
 Release Date: May 29, 2016


It took me years to find the courage to speak to Luka. He seemed exactly like me. Intelligent. Focused. Serious.

But he’s not the man I imagined.

His reality is cruel and dark. He traps me in his web, his power twisting tighter the more I struggle, until it’s hopeless. I can’t break free.

As he drags me unwillingly into his filthy world, I can’t ignore the terrifying idea circling my mind. What if I belong here with him?

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Author Bio

Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is married and has two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn't be any happier.

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