Thursday, July 31, 2014

Blog Tour and Nanee's Review of Deadly Betrayal (Deadly Vices book 3) by Kristine Cayne

DEADLY BETRAYAL (Deadly Vices, Book Three)
Kristine Cayne
Release Date: July 21, 2014
An Afghan woman’s rights activist with a dark secret.
Azita Seraj, doctor and women’s rights activist in Afghanistan, is horrified to learn that her late husband’s brother, Khalid Mullazai, is giving his eleven-year-old niece to a militant warlord. Desperate to save the girl, she reaches out to the only hope she has: an American soldier she treated several years earlier for a near-fatal gunshot wound. A wound he received in an ambush she’d unwittingly initiated. Can she enlist his aid and still keep secret her betrayal?
An American soldier searching for answers.
Kaden Christiansen never forgot the beautiful Afghan doctor who saved his life, and when he receives her cry for help, he doesn’t hesitate. He relishes the opportunity to see Azita again, and being in-country will give him a chance to hunt down the person responsible for the ambush that left one of his men dead.
A deadly conspiracy that threatens them both...
Pursued by Mullazai and the warlord’s fighters as they travel across the country disguised and posing as a married couple, Kaden and Azita begin to fall for their own act and for each other. But Kaden senses that Azita is holding back. Is the reason their cultural differences, or something darker?

Two years ago
Afghanistan, on the outskirts of Kabul
“Suck it up, guys!” Staff Sergeant Kaden Christiansen called to his men as they hopped out of the jeep grumbling. In an hour, the sun would be setting over Kabul, but the temperature was still flirting with ninety-five. Heat shimmered in the dust rising off the dirt road and sweat dripped down Kaden’s back under his type IV personal body armor, the highest level of protection offered by the good old U. S. of A.
As Delta Force operators, Kaden and his men usually strove to blend in with the locals. Today, however, at Captain Hainey’s insistence, they’d forgone the traditional Afghan white top and loose pants known as shalwar kameez] and were wearing the standard digital camo, boots, and helmets favored by American troops. They looked military, but there wasn’t an insignia or nametag in sight.
Their orders today were to babysit a medicine-for-information exchange. Kaden didn’t understand why the fuck the captain needed a Delta Force unit to oversee an op a team of grunts could easily handle. Talk about overkill.
But orders were orders.
Kaden quickly assigned tasks. “Hoffman and Sanchez, take point. Cooper and Lynch, you’ve got rear guard. Reynard, you carry the meds.”
Jake Reynard, the unit’s newest member, shot him a dirty look. “When you gonna stop hiding me under your wing, Sergeant?”
“When I know for sure you can fly.” Kaden tapped the kid on the back of the head. Jake was twenty-three, the same age Kaden’s little brother Thomas would have been now. A pang spiked him in the chest. “Stay close,” he said, his voice gruff with regret.
Hefting the crate onto his shoulders, Jake rolled his eyes. “You got it, Sergeant.” Jake’s coloring was similar to Thomas’s, and when he made a face the way he’d just done, the resemblance to his brother was striking. More than that, there was a hollowness in Jake’s eyes, the same one Thomas had had after… Yeah. Every time Kaden saw it, it killed him.
Shaking off the memories, Kaden ordered his team forward. In formation, they tramped through the pitted streets of Kabul’s Old City district until they reached the designated drop location. They were meeting up with a warlord named Rashid Abdullah. The man would give them some credible intel on the Taliban, and in return, he’d receive the crate of medicines for his village. The medicine was the only reason Kaden hadn’t made more of a stink with the captain. Well, that and the fact that as a rule, Kaden trusted the man and followed his orders.
When they arrived, Kaden took in the sad scene before him. This neighborhood had suffered; the devastation spanned nearly an entire block, every building leveled. Mud bricks mixed with scraps of clothing, broken dishes, shattered furniture, and rusty brown spots he was sure were the bloody remnants of a Taliban attack during the previous year. He surveyed the surrounding buildings, and his neck began to prickle.
“Eyes open, men,” he ordered.
“Something wrong, Sergeant?” Hoffman asked from his position several yards ahead.
“Nothing I can put my finger on.”
Sanchez shuddered. “Place gives me the fucking creeps.”
There was movement up ahead behind a mound of rubble. The warlord and his men. “Let’s get this over with,” Kaden said. Hitching up his weapon, he began to walk.
The men stayed in formation, providing three-hundred-and-sixty degree cover to their unit. Kaden loved how in sync they were. A well-oiled killing machine, all of them topnotch marksmen. He’d never had a better bunch of guys under his command. Twenty feet from the warlord and his fighters, Kaden gave the order to halt.
“Confirm the deal,” he said to Jake.
“What do you have for us?” Jake asked in perfect Pashto. How the guy had earned his language skills was a story in and of itself. He’d passed all the psychological and physical tests the Delta Force recruiters had thrown at him, but what Jake had been through in the year before becoming an operator would have broken most other men.
Rashid Abdullah shook his head. “Show me the goods first.”
Jake translated for Kaden. Although his Pashto wasn’t as good as Jake’s, Kaden understood the warlord’s rudimentary request. Pretending ignorance was part of the act. It gave Kaden a chance to think before answering, and it always put the other man at ease, made him feel in control.
“Tell him no. He gives us the intel or we leave.”
Jake relayed the message. The warlord’s face darkened and he took several steps closer, his fighters all tightening their grips on their weapons. Sanchez and Hoffman did the same, pointing their MP5s at the warlord’s chest. The man froze and raised his hands. Then he called one of his men forward. The fighter approached, carrying a duffel bag, which he set on the ground midway between Jake and the warlord. The warlord pointed to the bag. “It’s all in there. Just as the captain asked.”
Simultaneously, Kaden’s entire unit took several large steps back. What the fuck was in the bag? Kaden’s neck prickled so much, burrs might as well have been under his armor. They were supposed to receive verbal intelligence, not a bag of God knew what. Did the warlord plan on becoming become a martyr today?
Jake cut Kaden a questioning glance, one he didn’t know how to answer. Deliver the meds, or listen to his instincts? His gut screamed that they needed to haul ass and get the fuck out of there.
Something glinted on the roof of a decrepit three-story two-hundred-and-fifty yards away, and adrenaline flooded Kaden’s system. Shielding his eyes from the setting sun, he spotted the source: sunlight bouncing off a rifle’s scope.
I fucking knew it. “Down. Get down!” he shouted as he dove at Jake.
Everything slowed, milliseconds stretching into minutes. He heard the crack of a bullet as he lunged into the air. He didn’t know where the bullet was headed, but he knew one thing: he wouldn’t let it hit Jake.
Something stabbed him under the arm and seared through his chest. He collided with Jake, sending them both to the ground. The crate fell from Jake’s arms and the contents spilled out. Not meds at all.
M16s, dozens of them.
Kaden lay face first on the ground, amid an eruption of chaos. He tried to focus, but the shouts of his men and their frantic movements faded and dimmed. Dirt clogged his nose and mouth, every breath pure agony.
Goddamn it. He was going to die for a fucking crate of guns.
“Sergeant, you hit?” Jake crawled out from under him and flipped him onto his back. “Oh shit, oh shit! Jesus. Fuck. Blood’s coming out of his mouth.”
The men closed ranks around them, raining a hail of gunfire on their enemies as Kaden gasped for air. There was a scream, and then a patch of sky came into view where Sanchez had been. Something warm and wet splattered across Kaden’s face.
“Sanchez!” Jake shouted.
Kaden tried to clear the dust and stickiness out of his eyes. He had to get up, protect his men. Protect Jake. But his body was dead weight.
The sniper, he had to tell them about the sniper.
Jake started arguing with someone female, a voice Kaden didn’t recognize. Was he speaking Dari? Kaden’s head spun and spots dotted his vision. He tried to blink them away. Who put the fucking elephant on his chest?
A face appeared in his fading vision. A beautiful woman with eyes like the bluest sky and lips red as rubies. “Am I dead?” he asked her.
Concern in her eyes, she touched his face. Was she an angel? Christ, he hoped so. But with his luck, she was probably the devil in disguise.
With his fingertips, Kaden lightly traced her cheekbones, her jaw, the length of her throat. Azita’s eyelids dropped. Was she embarrassed?
“Open your eyes, honey. Watch how I’m touching you. Look at my face.” He tilted her chin so their gazes met. “See how much I’m enjoying it.”
Whatever she saw in his eyes caused her skin to turn a very pretty shade of pink. Her nipples on the other hand, turned a deep copper, like an old penny. Forcing himself to be patient, he stroked lightly over her shoulders, her collarbones. When he trailed a finger down the valley between her breasts, she shuddered. Goose bumps covered her arms, and he swore the blue of her eyes darkened.
“Watch my hands,” he said. When she broke eye contact, he allowed his fingers to circle her breasts, to feather their sensitive undersides. His cock strained as need flashed over him, leaving him breathless. His tongue ached to follow the path of his fingers, to suckle the swollen peaks. Soon, he promised himself.

Author Bio
Award-winning author Kristine Cayne is fascinated by the mysteries of human psychology—twisted secrets, deep-seated beliefs, out-of-control desires. Add in high-stakes scenarios and real-world villains, and you have a story worth writing, and reading.
Kristine’s heroes and heroines are pitted against each other by their radically opposing life experiences. By overcoming their differences and finding common ground, they triumph over their enemies and find true happiness in each other’s arms.
Today she lives in the Pacific Northwest, thriving on the mix of cultures, languages, religions and ideologies. When she’s not writing, she’s people-watching, imagining entire life stories, and inventing all sorts of danger for the unsuspecting heroes and heroines who cross her path.
To learn more about Kristine and her stories, visit her website:
Deadly Vices Book Links
DEADLY BETRAYAL (Deadly Vices, Book 3) by Kristine Cayne
Deadly Obsession (Deadly Vices, Book 1) by Kristine Cayne
Amazon Paperback US -
Deadly Addiction (Deadly Vices, Book 2) by Kristine Cayne
Amazon Paperback US -
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Wolf Protector (Federal Paranormal Unit, #1) by Milly Taiden Review ~Kami

Wolf Protector (Federal Paranormal Unit, #1)Wolf Protector by Milly Taiden
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This Federal Paranormal Unit of detectives includes Trent a wolf shifter and BBW Erica who gets psychic impressions through touch (Psychometry). When Erica touches an item belonging to a victim, she feels what they felt and sees what they saw. Trent knows that Erica is his mate. I like the mystery in this book, it was interesting and scary. The writing and pacing were really good. I liked the characters. And the eroticism was hot, hot, hot. A very racy and enjoyable read.

View all my reviews

Broken: The Silence Cycle Episode Two (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon #3.2) by Kris Austen Radcliffe Review ~Kami

Broken: The Silence Cycle Episode Two (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon #3.2)Broken: The Silence Cycle Episode Two by Kris Austen Radcliffe
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Daisy's mother stole a talisman from Fates and they want it back REALLY bad. So badly do they want it back, that they don't care who they have to kill or what they have to do to get it back. Daisy is on a quest to find her wayward mother, her unknown father, get some killer Fates off her back and meet some dragons. I love Kris Austen Radcliffe's work. She is such an amazing writer. Her Fate/Fire/Shifter/Dragon series is SO good. I like her writing style, the pacing is spot on, the characters are interesting and well rounded. It is sad that more people haven't heard of her books. She is seriously that good and too many people are missing out. Ladon is in this book. Yay! Daisy gets herself into some scary situations and I was seriously worried about her. This book immediately draws you and doesn't let go. 5 stars.

View all my reviews

Bonds: The Silence Cycle Episode One (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon, #3.1) by Kris Austen Radcliffe Review ~Kami

Bonds: The Silence Cycle Episode One (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon, #3.1)Bonds: The Silence Cycle Episode One by Kris Austen Radcliffe
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Daisy is a bloodhound shifter telling a story about before she activated and her first encounter with Burners. This story is so good. Kris Austen Radcliffe is an exceptional writer, and I am so happy to read anything new by her. . Kris Austen Radcliffe is not your typical cookie-cutter fiction writer. She writes outside the box. This story draws you in immediately, the pacing is spot on, the characterization is interesting. I cared about Daisy and wanted to know more about her. We learn more about Rysa's childhood in this prequel. Loved this story set in the Fate/Fire/Shifter/Dragon universe. 5 stars.

View all my reviews

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Cover Reveal - Resist Me by A.O Peart ~Kami

Lisbeth, the lone eyewitness of a shocking murder, believes the FBI witness protection program may be the only way for her to survive. But when a powerful explosion reduces the safe house to ashes, killing all of the FBI agents on duty, will she turn to a perfect stranger for help?

Ethan, an ex-Marine-turned-firefighter, has never really cared for any woman. He lives his life to the fullest, enjoying the bad boy stigma and cultivating a particular taste for dominant sex. Girls come and go, allowed to stay only long enough to satisfy Ethan’s wild appetite.

One morning at dawn, Ethan’s fire brigade is called to a fatal house explosion that levels the structure. When he pries open a trap door to the hidden panic room under the house, he find a gorgeous, though disheveled brunette. Lisbeth instantly turns Ethan’s world upside down, and he’s overcome by the burning desire to protect her, no matter the consequences.

Jack stood beside me. He was a big guy, even taller and bulkier than myself. At six-foot-two I towered over most of my buddies and coworkers. In our heavy fireproof coats, pants, and bunker boots we looked like giants next to the short and plump chief.

Chief glanced back and to the sides, as if making sure nobody can overhear us. “Jack, take the battalion lead. The captain stays here. I have a special mission for him.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack nodded and rushed into the building, no questions asked. 

“What? You want me to leave my guys and stay here? What’s going on?” I was puzzled. Such thing has never happened before. I was the captain, and my team was my responsibility. But this was also a direct order, and I knew better than to question my superior. 

The chief lifted his hand, palm facing me in a conciliatory gesture. “Jack can lead the team well enough. You are required to take on another task.” He motioned to the area where the excavation team was moving the equipment off the side. “You’re going to that panic room. With your Marine’s training, you’re my best man for the job.”

“Jack has received the same training as I have, Chief.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. “I know, Ethan. But Jack’s temper is better utilized there,” he nodded toward the building, “while you know how to restrain yourself. Besides, this… well, hell, I will tell you what the feds said. But that’s not to be discussed with anyone, Ethan. In that panic room is a sole witness to some big case the FBI is involved in. She’s young and terrified, and who knows in what state of mind she is after this mess here. They’re afraid she will pull out, and they’ll lose the only witness they need to pin down some troublemaker. What we need now is someone who can ease her out of there and make sure she feels safe.”

I gave him a skeptical look. Okay, so it was widely known that I had my way with women, although I would never kiss and tell. But some of the women apparently have done just that, because I’ve been quickly labeled as a “bad boy who won’t settle down”. No matter what, this was my private life, which I never mixed with my professional one. So why the hell would my superior hint at my special talents? I’ve proven to him and everyone else at work that when it comes to my job, I won’t be second-guessed. 

“Ethan.” His bushy brows pulled together as he pinned me with his steely stare. “Look, the FBI needs her. She’s the only one who can testify in that case, and apparently there is some big fish involved that can’t be easily touched otherwise. I know you can talk to her and make her feel protected—”

“So that’s what this is about? Giving some poor girl a false sense of security?” I kept my voice low.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, son. That came out wrong.” The chief shook his head and exhaled forcefully. “Apparently, she’s been already hinting at pulling out, and so this,” he gestured around, “might be the last straw. What I’m asking is that you just try.”

I narrowed my eyes, looking at the spot where group 3 from Rescue 12 and a few black suits congregated in a circle. More feds tried to keep the media away. Several local TV stations were at the scene, cameras rolling. I spotted Anne, standing in front of the KOTS News Station camera, talking to a large microphone with the station logo on. When she gestured to the scene behind her, the fabric of her white button-down blouse stretched tautly over her round breasts. A fleeting recollection of those gorgeous tits under my fingers surfaced from some dark depths of my mind. My cock stirred, and a pang of desire ran through me. I pushed the not-completely-unwelcome memories out of my mind.

“That’s the order, Chief? I will do it, but I strongly believe I’m needed much more with my men inside that building.” I shoved my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to where my guys did what was absolutely necessary—killing the possible fire inside and preventing it from spreading onto the next building. 

He sighed. “It’s a request. Please, Ethan. She’s my daughter’s age, just twenty-three; a college girl in the FBI witness protection program. The kid doesn’t have any family… she sure as hell could use some help from a firefighter.”

That did me in. Chief Holton’s daughter was born with Down syndrome. Her mother died, giving birth to her. The girl has recently developed a rare type of leukemia and was going through chemo treatments. She was the chief’s only child, and was slowly fading away. How could I possibly refuse his plea? 

“Okay.” I nodded curtly and started to peel off my gloves and the heavy fire protection coat. The sun was up, and I was getting uncomfortably warm. “Is there a two-way communication established with that woman? A phone or a radio?”

“There was a separate landline, but it’s out of service now. Must’ve been damaged in the explosion. She’s not answering her radio either.”

“So no communication at all?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head. 

We passed all the media, refusing the journalists’ pleads for comments about the incident. I bent at the waist, slipping under the barricade tape, Chief Holton following close behind. I heard him grunt in discomfort when he had to bend his bad knee to lower himself under the tape. 

Two feds approached us. This time the chief made introductions. “Ethan, this is Agent Drasco,” he motioned to one of the left, “and this is Agent Cornell.” 

They both nodded.

“This is Captain Ethan McCoy from Rescue 8. I briefed Captain McCoy about the situation,” Chief Holton told them. We need to move in. The lady in there might need medical attention.”

“How is the air supply in that panic room?” I asked.

“The room is equipped with air scrubbers. They draw in fresh air from outside and can filter it indefinitely,” Agent Drasco explained. 

Long enough to wait out a chemical attack for example. Or, at least the worse of it. Must be the well-constructed safe room. I thought. “So smoke from the fire should be no problem then,” I said. 

Agent Cornell cleared his throat and said in low baritone, “We are not completely positive on the air scrubbers functionality after the explosion. The system might’ve been damaged.”

“Is there an escape shaft?” I inquired. 

“It was checked already, and the access is blocked by a heavy debris.” Agent Cornell shook his head. 

“So let’s have our guys clear it.” What were the feds waiting for? Shouldn’t that be done already? 

Drasco and Cornell exchange a fleeting glance, just a flicker of the eye, but it was enough for me to catch it. 

Cornell drew in a breath. “The explosives were deposited at the escape shaft exit. Good part of the passage has collapsed.”

“So now this trap door here is the only way out, right?” I knew the answer, but without the complete blueprints of the underground structure I wanted to make sure we aren’t missing anything. 

“Correct,” Drasco confirmed.

The excavation unit was done with clearing the area and salvage operation. They knew how to work fast and efficiently. Uncovered, was a small, steel trap door in the warehouse concrete floor. I kneeled by it and carefully ran my hands over the metal. There were four handles flush with the surface of the door. I wrapped my fingers around one handle opposite the massive hinges, fitting my hand into the round recess under it. I yanked on it. Nothing. I suspected the door could only be unlocked from the inside. 

“I doubt we can simply pry it open. This isn’t going to be easy.” I examined the edges closer. “Can we get some tools to try?” I asked the guys from the drilling crew.

“This door is designed to be unlocked only from the inside,” Agent Cornell confirmed my theory. He crouched next to me and rapped his knuckles on the metal surface. “And it is soundproof, so she wouldn’t hear if we tried to communicate with her.” 

As expected, there was no response from the room. This was a real-deal safe room, not the stuff you see in the movies, where the person inside might be verbally coerced to do something that the attacker wants. Sound insulation in real life was done to eliminate such nonsense and also to prevent anyone on the outside from hearing what was going on the inside, like a phone conversation with the police. But with such powerful explosion, there was no doubt the woman inside knew something went very wrong. So why wasn’t she trying to get out?

Agent Drasco stood a few feet away with three other dark suits, quietly talking on his cell phone. 

“Ethan. Here!” Chief Holton handed me a crowbar. 

A guy from the drilling crew walked to the opposite side of the steel door. He held another crowbar. I stood up and hooked my crowbar under the edge of the door. The other man did the same. 

“If it doesn’t budge easily, we might need to try one of the excavation machinery to lift that door up,” Chief Holton announced. “By the looks of it, it’s too thick to spring free with the crowbars. 

“Yeah. We can’t even make a dent here,” I murmured, repositioning the crowbar. “Let’s get tow equipment in here.”

At that moment I heard a muffled sound like a distant scraping, coming from the trap door. Everyone else around us must’ve heard that too, because the quiet conversations ceased, and we all gaped in that direction. The door slowly lifted an inch and then a few more. I was kneeling right by it, so I grasped the handle with one hand and hauled up the door up, opening it completely. A pair of wide-open, bright-green eyes stared at me from under a shock of dark, tangled curls. Lush, pink lips slightly parted, but not a sound came out. 

“Miss Glasson!” Cornell stooped down, his hands on his knees. “I’m Agent Cornell, FBI. This is Captain McCoy and Chief Holton, both from the Portland Fire Department.

The green eyes darted from Cornell’s face to mine to Holton’s and back to mine. They locked with my eyes, holding me hostage, spellbinding me with almost a child-like intensity. God, she was gorgeous; breathtaking even, with her pale complexion highlighted with a little splash of pink over her high cheekbones. Those green eyes were huge, framed in thick, long lashes. She was scared too; I could sense it, although she fought not to show it. She bit on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. 

I extended my hand to her. “We’re here to help, Miss. Are you hurt? The paramedics need to see you now.” 

She took my hand. “My name is Gloria,” the girl whispered. Her skin was warm against mine, her hand fitting perfectly inside my hand. 

“I’m Ethan,” I whispered back. Why was I whispering? 

“What happened here? It was horrible to be down and not knowing.” She looked around, her eyes wide. 

“There was an explosion. I’m sure the agents will explain everything to you.”

“Where is Agent Vera? Agent Kolaski?”

I slowly shook my head from side to side. “The whole structure was leveled. Nobody survived. I’m sorry.”

She stared at me, open-mouthed and then said, “I slept in the safe room, as always. Agent Vera told me to secure the door last night and only open it when instructed by her or Agent Kolaski. How… what caused the explosion?”

“We don’t know yet. Here, let me help you out. Careful now.” I gently grasped her elbow with my other hand. She had small bones and not much meat over them. 

Before climbing out, she hastily put her hood on. It fell down past her forehead, shading her face from view. 

Chief Holton and one of the feds were on Gloria’s other side, trying to assist with guiding her out of the chamber, but she placed her palm flat on the ground and pushed herself up, swinging one knee out onto the ground covered with chunks of concrete and other debris. She still held onto my hand though, squeezing it hard, until it hurt. 

I winced. For such a slim woman she packed some muscle, at least in her grip. 

The feds swarmed around us like black crows. Agent Cornell was asking her questions and declaring her absolute safety. Gloria shied away from them. A deep frown settled between her dark brows, while her delicate mouth curved down as if in resolve to block off his assurances. 

“Are you a paramedic?” she asked me hopefully. “I feel nauseous.” There was pleading in her eyes. She was shaking. 

I wrapped my turnout coat over her shoulders, and she accepted it with a look of gratitude on her face. “Yes, ma’am, I’m trained as paramedic.”

Drasco came up to Gloria and said quietly, “Miss Glasson. As soon as you’re checked by the EMTs, I have an order to take you to an undisclosed location. 

“No!” she backed up, bumping into me. 

The contact made my body aware of her even more than before. The top of her hood brushed the spot under my chin, and a shiver ran through me, straight to my cock, which stirred and strained against the fabric of my bulky pants. 

“No. I want to be left alone. Do not follow me,” she said without moving away from me. She looked straight at Drasco. “I was promised the absolute protection. Is this what you call safety?” Gloria angrily motioned around. 

“Miss Glasson,” Cornell hissed. “Not here. Not with the witnesses around, please.”

“Fine,” she murmured.

“Let me take you to the rescue rig.” I touched her back. 

She nodded and walked with me. Chief Holton and the feds went with us. Two of our EMTs were by her side already, but she seemed to want to stay close to me. That didn’t really surprise me. I was used to women gravitating toward me, as if I reeked of pheromones. But there was something different about Gloria.


I was born and raised in Poland. When I was just seven-years-old I decided to learn English, because I wanted to translate my favorite Polish fairytales.

I write in multiple genres, including paranormal, fantasy, urban fiction, sci-fi, contemporary, and short stories. I am a member of Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Western Washington Chapter, author critique group, Writers In the Rain, and several authors’ and readers’ networking groups on Linkedin, Facebook, and Goodreads. 

I love reading good books almost as much as writing them. I describe myself as “European born, American by choice”. I can never decide which season I prefer—summer or fall. I speak with Polish accent and love listening to the Southern drawl. I am passionate about watercolor painting, fashion—especially stilettos, rock climbing, environment, and organic food and gardening. I live in the Seattle area with my family and a chronically curious cat, Cinnamon.

Social Media Links:


EJ Button

Release Day Blitz Deadly Betrayal (Deadly Vices book 3) by Kristine Cayne

DEADLY BETRAYAL (Deadly Vices, Book Three)

Kristine Cayne

Release Date: July 21, 2014

An Afghan woman’s rights activist with a dark secret.

Azita Seraj, doctor and women’s rights activist in Afghanistan, is horrified to learn that her late husband’s brother, Khalid Mullazai, is giving his eleven-year-old niece to a militant warlord. Desperate to save the girl, she reaches out to the only hope she has: an American soldier she treated several years earlier for a near-fatal gunshot wound. A wound he received in an ambush she’d unwittingly initiated. Can she enlist his aid and still keep secret her betrayal?

An American soldier searching for answers.

Kaden Christiansen never forgot the beautiful Afghan doctor who saved his life, and when he receives her cry for help, he doesn’t hesitate. He relishes the opportunity to see Azita again, and being in-country will give him a chance to hunt down the person responsible for the ambush that left one of his men dead.

A deadly conspiracy that threatens them both...

Pursued by Mullazai and the warlord’s fighters as they travel across the country disguised and posing as a married couple, Kaden and Azita begin to fall for their own act and for each other. But Kaden senses that Azita is holding back. Is the reason their cultural differences, or something darker?

Catch up on my award-winning DEADLY VICES series before the launch of book three, DEADLY BETRAYAL on July 21st!

DEADLY OBSESSION - 4.4 stars on 107 reviews

Nic Lamoureux's perfect movie star life is shattered by a stalker who threatens any woman close to him. When he meets photographer Lauren James, the attraction is instant--and mutual. She's exactly the sort of woman he craves, but the stalker makes deadly clear Lauren is the competition. And the competition must be eliminated.

Amazon US:; Amazon UK:; Nook:; Kobo:; Apple iTunes:; ARe:; Smashwords:

Amazon Print:

DEADLY ADDICTION - 4.8 stars on 39 reviews

When Rémi Whitedeer and Alyssa Morgan uncover a drug-fueled scheme on the Blackriver Reserve—a scheme involving a biker gang from Alyssa’s past and a militant sovereigntist group led by Rémi’s cousin—Rémi must choose between loyalty to family and tribe or his growing love for Alyssa. Will Rémi and Alyssa have to leave everything behind—even their identities—for the chance at a future together?

Amazon US:; Amazon UK:; B&N/Nook:; iTunes/Apple:; Kobo:; ARe:; Smashwords:

Friday, July 18, 2014

She Who Hunts by C.L. Parks Review ~Kami

She Who Hunts


Hunters of demons were always male until Tenna's mother. Tenna is the legendary Huntress from a prophecy. Her parents are killed in front of her when she is 6 years old and she is sent to live with humans. Fans of Supernatural will probably enjoy this book. I thought the pacing was a little off. The writing is pretty good but I felt it could use some more polish to be perfect. The story was interesting and it held my attention. I liked Tenna. There seemed to be a lot of explanation and exposition in the writing which slowed down the flow for me. I needed more “show not tell”. 3 Stars. 
Title: She Who Hunts
Author: CL Parks
Genre: Urban Fantasy with Romantic Elements
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours


~Tenna Massey's past is about to catch up with her. For eighteen years she’s carefully crafted a normal life. When an assassination attempt shatters that illusion, she’s forced to accept her true identity. As the prophesied demon huntress, she may be the only one powerful enough to stop a recent string of murders. 

She has two choices now: kill or be killed. Tenna must decide if risking her own life is worth saving thousands of innocent humans and the people she loves. 
Will she choose to embrace her fate as The Huntress or condemn humanity to Hell on Earth? ~

Author Bio:
CL Parks has had a passion for writing since reading Charlotte’s Web in kindergarten. After rewriting the ending to gift Charlotte with immortal life she became obsessed. Her tastes quickly moved from sweet and innocent to the supernatural after reading Stephen King in fifth grade. Since the moment she picked up Pet Semetary she devoured every supernatural and preternatural book she could get her hands on by authors ranging from Anne Rice to Stephanie Rowe.
When not fully engulfed in the latest release or typing away at her newest novel you can find her corralling her chickens, playing with her dogs, spoiling her large lizard or sewing a new vintage inspired dress. Her dream is to travel the country in an RV with her husband while writing more books…after the kids have gone on to college, of course.

Twitter - clparks05

Excerpt 1:

Tenna dug her fingers into Russell’s shoulders and shook him - or tried to - hoping to snap him out of the stupor he was in. “Killed who, Russ? Talk to me! Who’s dead?”
He was still looking directly at her, but somehow right through her. “All of them. They’re all dead.” His voice was an eerie monotone and as cold as his eyes.
Who? Everyone at the bar? Everyone at…noooo.
She gave up on coercing him gently into sanity and slapped her open palm across his face. His head whipped to the side, he blinked a couple times, his mouth working like a fish out of water then started to cry. He actually started to cry. “Shit! Russell, keep it together. Who’s dead? Whose blood is this?”
Russell looked down at his clothes then like he hadn’t noticed before that he was covered in blood. He began frantically swiping his hands at his shirt, his forearms, and his hands, anything he could easily see. His hands scrubbed at his skin, his nails biting into the flesh as he dug at the sticky substance. She kept grabbing at his hands, trying to keep him from scratching himself but his movements were too frantic.
Tenna looked over Russell’s head to see Jason swaying from foot to foot, wringing his hands like an old woman, his eyes still wide.
If there was ever a time to push out a little of her energy it was now. She focused on Jason’s eyes, trying to see the depth of the dark swirls of color, and exhaled once. She tried to imagine his breathing slowing to match her own, his hands relaxed and at his side. She put her own hands in her lap hoping to do a monkey-see-monkey-do kind of move. To her astonishment his hands dropped to his side…as did Russell’s. Cool.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Almost Bad Boys Omnibus by A.O. Peart book blitz with giveaway ~Kami

Colin's POV:
I don’t know how long I stand in the shower. Hot water burns my skin, evoking red splotches all over me. But I welcome the sensation, because it lets me concentrate on something other than Faith’s death. I put my palms on the wall and hang my head down under the water. I watch the water run down the drain by my feet. Someone pounds on the door again, but I ignore it. Maybe the same girl as before? Or maybe another girl. I don’t care, because the only girl that I want to see now is dead.

Natalie's POV:

opening line: 

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. This is such bullshit. If something is about to kill you, it will scar you for life. There is no strength coming from terrifying experiences. Maybe that saying should be more specific and read something like What seriously kicks your ass makes you stronger. Yeah, that makes more sense.

Book & Author Details:

Almost Bad Boys Omnibus  by A.O. Peart
(Almost Bad Boys #1-3)
Publication date: May 24th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

This Omnibus Edition collects the three Almost Bad Boys books into a single package: Almost Matched, Almost Broken Up, and Almost Too Far.
How to describe this hilarious and sexy series in just one sentence?
A martini glass of sizzling romance, a jigger of suspense and crime, perfectly shaken with a twist of wacky humor.
By popular demand from my readers, I wrote an additional scene for Almost Matched: COLIN AND NATALIE’S FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER. The bedroom doors are cracked open for you to sneak in and, I don’t know… hide behind the curtain maybe?
This exclusive scene has never been published before and is only included in this Omnibus.
~ ALMOST MATCHED: Would you take another shot at love? Or just settle on a friend with benefits?
~ ALMOST BROKEN UP: How far would you go to protect the one you love?
~ ALMOST TOO FAR: Where would you draw the line between love and trust?


Amazon US:
Amazon UK:
Barnes and Noble:

A.O. Peart is the author of New Adult and Young Adult fiction novels, including NA contemporary romantic comedy series Almost Bad Boys. She writes in multiple adult, NA, and YA genres: contemporary, paranormal, urban fantasy, and short stories.

Angela was born and raised in Poland. She now lives in the Seattle area with her family and a chronically curious cat.
She describes herself as European born, American by choice.

Find Angela here:!/Angela_Peart


another excerpt:
Colin wraps his arm around my waist, and we walk to the bar, where three twenty-something, shirtless, attractive bartenders put on a real performance. Seriously, it should be forbidden to be as hot as these guys are. They are causing something close to a mass hysteria among the females clustered around the bar.
While two of the bartenders wait on the customers, the third one impressively juggles four shot glasses up in the air. He finally puts them down, swiftly jumps on the bar, and falls onto his knees in front of a group of tipsy, screaming girls who still look like teenagers.
He sits back on his heels and grins at the girls. His distressed jeans tightly hug his strong legs, and his muscular, naked torso and well-defined arms make me want to join the wild females. I quickly snatch a glance at Colin, but he doesn’t seem to mind me drooling. Or at least he’s smarter than showing any signs of jealousy over this. 
One of the women leans forward and tries to kiss the bartender’s washboard stomach, but he stops her, laughing. Another bartender hands him a bottle of Frangelico and a tiny glass. The guy on the counter makes a production of pouring the liquor into the glass, while slowly and seductively swinging his hips to the music. The women are going wild. By now there is a big crowd of them, trying to squeeze in closer. The bartender chooses one girl, leans forward and whispers something to her. She nods, and opens her mouth. He touches the glass to her lips and pours the Frangelico into her mouth.

Her friends cheer and demand the same treatment. They stick money behind the bartender’s jeans waistband, as if he is a stripper. Well, he acts like one. Soon he collects an impressive amount of bills. I see mostly tens and twenties. He jumps off the bar and switches places with one of his co-workers—a gorgeous African American guy with dreadlocks. The women hoot and clap in delight.

a Rafflecopter giveaway