Romance Novel Giveaways - Freebies and Giveaways of All Things Romance Romance Novel Giveaways: Fate's Vultures by Jami Gray 💕 Series Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕(Dystopian Romantic Suspense)

Saturday, February 24, 2018

Fate's Vultures by Jami Gray 💕 Series Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕(Dystopian Romantic Suspense)


In a world gone to hell, it's hard to tell the good guys from the bad...

The world didn't end in fire and explosions, instead it collapsed slowly, like falling dominoes, an intensifying panic of disease, food shortages, wild weather and collapsing economies, until what remained of humanity battles for survival in a harsh new reality.
Charity uses lethal survival skills learned too early in her work as a 'Hound, sniffing out pivotal secrets for one of the most powerful people on the west coast. Her work is deceptive, deadly, and best performed solo, which means when she has a run-in with a member of the notorious Fate's Vultures, she has no intention of joining forces in some mockery of teamwork. The man might be sexy as hell, but she travels alone. She will accomplish her mission and she will settle a score - hopefully with the edge of her blade. But fate has other plans.
As one of Fate’s Vultures, a nomadic band of arbitrators known for their ruthless verdicts, Ruin witnesses the carnage of corruption and greed battering the remnants of humanity, and he bears the scars to prove it. Now he has a damn 'Hound showing up in suspicious circumstances, leaving every cell of his body sceptical - and painfully aroused. The woman is trouble, and Ruin has every intention of steering clear. But when they realise they have a common enemy, Charity and Ruin will have to set aside their distrust if they want to achieve their mutual goal - justice and revenge.
Sometimes, when the world's gone to hell, it's better to stick with the devil you know...
‘How good is your crazy?’
He canted his head and took a moment to replay her question. ‘Come again?’
Those full lips twitched, causing his cock to do the same. ‘Time to let your crazy fly, Ruin.’
A light touch on the reins brought his horse to a stop. Charity’s paint took another step or two before doing the same. She twisted in her saddle to face him, dark mischief dancing in those electric blue eyes. ‘You and Boden seem certain the Raiders were leading Simon into a trap. Add in the fact we’re tracking them deeper in the mountains, I’m thinking we’re about to be outnumbered.’ Slim shoulders rose in a delicate shrug under the battered leather jacket. ‘Why go in hard, when we can go in soft?’
‘I’m listening.’ He touched his heels into his horse, nudging it forward.
She held his gaze as he came up beside her. ‘This Cammon place, how many people know about it?’
‘Long-timers mainly, those who’ve been out here for years.’ And obviously others if his guess was right.
‘So if one of those long-timers happened to be a trapper calling it home, no surprise, right?’ Her paint held steady as he crowded close.
He filled in the blanks even as he caught a flash of heated awareness in her gaze before she doused it. Deep inside, under his wiseass persona, the hunter smiled in anticipation. God how he loved a challenge wrapped in a puzzle. ‘Crazy ass loner comes back from a hunt, his woman in tow, only to stumble upon uninvited guests.’
She shifted in her saddle, touched the tip of a finger to her nose and tapped twice.
Hmm, it might work. ‘Guns or blades, you think?’ A question he hadn’t asked her earlier, too caught up in tracking Simon. Since she was there when the Raiders attacked, she might have an idea of their weapons.
‘Might be both.’
His gaze went to the gun strapped to her thigh. ‘You any good with that?’
Feminine arrogance straightened her spine, and her hand brushed lovingly over the weapon. The real woman peeked out behind the alluring mask. ‘Want to play target?’ It was a dangerous purr, but he liked it. ‘I’ll even give you a head’s start.’
Ignoring the invitation, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Confusion will only work for a few minutes at most before they decide we’re not worth the hassle.’
Unflinching cunning and intelligence met his gaze. ‘Long enough to even out the numbers if need be.’ She leant in, her hand a hot brand as she braced it on his thigh near his knives. ‘Then you can bring these boys out to play.’
Despite the temptation she presented, he locked her wrist in his grip even as her fingers brushed against the leather holding one of his blades. Dust and sweat couldn’t drown out the delicate spice of her scent. Using his free hand, he captured her chin and dipped his head, their lips a breath apart. ‘No touching.’
She didn’t fight his hold or jerk back. Instead she held his gaze. Heat and awareness darkened those bright eyes, but she remained still, waiting, watching.
A curious tension sang between them, one that left him cautious despite the expected lust rising hard and rough. He couldn’t remember the last time he got hot and sweaty between the sheets. This wasn’t the time, and she sure as hell wasn’t the right woman, but … Giving into temptation, he brushed his lips over hers, just once. Her breath hitched, then she retreated, leaning back. He let her go, the warmth of her lips lingering against his. He watched her resettle in the saddle, his voice a rough rasp as he brought their conversation back on track. ‘You got anything against getting dirty?’
Surprisingly, a red stain rode under her gold skin, but she lost none of her edge. ‘How dirty?’


Choosing a side has never been so dangerous…
The world didn’t end in fire and explosions, instead it collapsed slowly, like falling dominoes, an intensifying panic of disease, food shortages, wild weather and collapsing economies, until what remains of humanity battles for survival in a harsh new reality.
An assassin by trade, a loner by nature, Mercy is sent to infiltrate the Cartels and unmask the identity of their new silent partner. Instead, she discovers a darker plan threatening to crumble the entire Southwest and ends up with a hefty bounty on her head. Still, she’s determined to stop the impending attack at any cost, even if it means partnering up with a member of the notorious Fate’s Vultures.
After enduring a brutal, blood-soaked lesson on the savagery of civilisation’s scavengers, Havoc is well acquainted with the consequences of battling predators. But as a member of the nomadic band of arbitrators known as Fate’s Vultures, he’s determined to cement the necessary alliances to oust the biggest threat looming on the horizon. When an enigmatic woman crosses his path, her secrets and troubling loyalty light the fuse on an unexpected craving and his insatiable curiosity.
In order to trap a common foe and derail an impending threat, Havoc and Mercy must turn the tables to hunt a predator. Can an assassin and a mercenary find their balance on the thin line of loyalty, or will it snap under the weight of their wary hearts?
A breeze trickled through the heated air trapped inside the shop’s dim interior and the barest shadow inched along the wall marring the sunlight stretched across the pitted floor. It wasn’t much of a disturbance, but it was enough to make Havoc pause, the dark bottle of home-brew suspended halfway to his drier-than-the-desert-outside mouth. The bottle’s edge hovered over his lip as he watched the shadow slip along the rusted interior wall of the local ammunition dealer’s shop. Recently lax muscles coiled in anticipation.

Faint shouts drifted down the rutted street and through the shop’s opening, but he didn’t move, never taking his eyes off the shadow slinking along the wall. Another breeze caught the ragged edges of the head scarf causing a traitorous ripple. The deeper in the shadow crept, the more it began to resemble a slender human despite the baggy cargo pants and the oversized layered shirts. A slight shift in stance pulled the loose material tight. If he hadn’t been staring he would have missed the surprising curves revealed for the briefest of seconds. It left him adjusting his perception to a slender female. A slow blink kept the sandy grit floating on the air from making a permanent home on his eyeballs. Yet a strange, unwelcomed curiosity kept him from any other revealing movement.

The shouts came closer, the heavily accented voices rousing an old rage, but he locked it down and kept watching, wondering. The female tried to sink into the shrinking shadows. He should probably tell her that it wouldn’t do shit all. For a second his brain screamed at him to turn away. Nothing good would come from getting involved. Whatever sent her scurrying in here, wasn’t his damn business. He wasn’t here to get involved in other people’s troubles, he was here for one thing—to reload his brass, a necessity when ammunition was difficult to acquire. A project, the shop owner, Boomer, was currently in the midst of doing in the backroom.

As if Havoc’s thoughts were a primer, Boomer’s rough voice shot through the shop. ‘You need to be more particular about your salvaging, my man. Some of this brass is for shit.’

It was almost comical how fast the female’s head snapped around. Despite the crappy lighting, dark, heavily lashed eyes hit and held with his, sharing a flash of grim determination edged with defiant fury before it was quickly banked into a predatory stillness. The impact landed a sucker punch to his gut. Silently, Havoc cursed because with a single look, his resolve about getting involved was blown to shit. Without looking away from the wary woman he managed a quick sip of his beer before setting his bottle down on the table’s top and answering, ‘Most brass nowadays is shit.’

That elicited a bark of laughter from the back room. ‘True.’

A heated exchange erupted outside, Spanish curses flying like horseflies on shit, and the woman’s head whipped back to the street. Bad move, darlin’. Taking advantage of her momentary lapse of attention, Havoc made his move, slipping around the table and closing the distance between them, even as the devil on his shoulder snarled a curse. Using his heavier frame he trapped her smaller one against the wall. He wrapped one hand around her wrist and tucked it between the wall and her hip, locking it in place. Then he caught her other blade-filled hand before she could land her intended strike. With a sharp twist, he had her well and truly caught.

This close he couldn’t miss the feel of the sinuous lines of muscle under the loose clothing or the unyielding fury raging in the brown, green-shot depths of her eyes, the only things visible thanks to the grimy head scarf. The voices outside came closer. Knowing he would regret this, he dropped his head so his lips were at her ear, the not-unpleasant, faint scent of dust and sweat drifting to his nose. ‘Crate to the left, over by the table, see it?’

Time stretched as she searched his face. It wasn’t hard to miss the wary confusion in her brown eyes as it nudged fury to the side, making room for self-preservation to shove to the fore. Cautiously, as if she was waiting for him to bite, she turned her head and found the shipping crate sitting back against the wall. Her gaze came back to him and she gave a slow nod.

‘You get in and stay quiet.’

He waited for her nod, then released her less lethal hand and dragged her over. With his free hand he flipped the lid up. Thankfully, Boomer had just inventoried his delivery and the box was empty. He pulled on her wrist. ‘Get in.’

With one last cautious look between him and the doorway, she did as instructed, tucking into a small ball, and then flinching as another sharp burst of Spanish came from the street. With both hands on the lid, he stared down at her, the devil on his shoulder still ranting curses. ‘Don’t make me regret this, hear?’

She dipped her head once and he closed the lid. He shifted the crate so it hunkered between the wall and the table, then sat on top of it. The sturdy wood creaked under his weight, but he settled in to wait. Now he just needed to confirm who the hell was chasing her. He leaned his back against the wall, and sprawled his legs under the table before reclaiming his beer. He lifted the bottle and took a drink as his answer stepped into the doorway, blocking the sunlight. Didn’t it just figure that when he decided to step in it, he seriously stepped in it.

Jami Gray is the coffee addicted, music junkie, Queen Nerd of her personal Geek Squad, Alpha Mom of the Fur Minxes, and award winning author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams, and her latest Romantic Suspense series, Fate’s Vultures. She writes to soothe the voices in her head.


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  1. I enjoyed getting to know your book; congrats on the tour and I hope it is a fun one for you :)

    1. Thank you, Lisa! And thanks for taking part of the tour!

  2. Love the cover. Thanks for the giveaway.

    1. Aww, thanks, Elizabeth! They're some of my favorite covers. Good luck and happy reading!

  3. Yep, that's pretty much how it's going to go down. Any day now, I suspect.

    1. LOL! Yeah, there's a reason I love writing these books. Happy Saturday, Richard!

  4. I love that book cover, very eye catching!

    1. Thanks, Judy! They're some of my favorites. Happy Saturday and good luck with the giveaway!


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