The Trust Me? Trilogy and Just Friends? by K E Osborn ♥ GIVEAWAY ♥ (Contemporary Romance)

Jenifer Taylor is content with her life, dull and boring as it is. Being absent from the dating scene means she doesn’t have to deal with the major trust issues she has with men that stem from a controlling and aggressive ex-boyfriend and an absentee father. She’s happy being alone, sharing her life with her friends and family. When Jeni starts a typical day in the big city of Mornington Vale, California, it turns from bad to worse when she’s involved in a chain collision on her way to work. Her world changes forever that day because she meets Aiden O’Connell, the billionaire son of Alistair O’Connell, who owns Mornington Vale’s largest financial corporation. Aiden is an up-and-coming young businessman who's ready to take on the vice presidency of his father’s company. He is the good son, and it’s imperative to Alistair that Aiden succeed and follow in his footsteps. Life for Aiden involves working hard and not much else. After the accident, however, Aiden’s world changes as well. He finds Jeni irresistible and instantly pursues her. With some coaxing, she eventually agrees to a date, and the attraction is mutual. Jeni finds love quickly with Aiden, but trusting him is another issue. When to trust is tested in many different ways but comes to a head when Aiden is investigated for a serious crime. As her trust issues spark, she is forced to go through a journey of self-discovery. She must decide once and for all whether she trusts the man she loves when she’s asked the ultimate question: “Do you trust me?”

In the first book of The Trust Me? Trilogy, Jeni Taylor finds the love of her life, but as the second book begins, she finds herself lost without Aiden O’Connell, who’s been wrongly convicted of embezzlement charges and incarcerated. She must find the strength within to help prove he’s innocent while dealing with other issues. Aiden’s father, Alistair, still taunts her, making life between Jeni and Aiden more difficult, and an unexpected visitor enters their lives, creating havoc and turning it upside down. Jeni’s trust issues return in a major way after an incident leaves her fragile and broken. Aiden and Jeni find themselves going through more trials and tribulations than ever before in this second installment of the Trust Me? Trilogy. In the end, Jeni will be asked the ultimate question: Do you still love me?

In the second book of The Trust Me? Trilogy, Jeni Taylor and Aiden O’Connell seemed to find life challenging, but as the third book begins, we are faced with the idea that maybe they may not get their Happily Ever After. Jeni is broken and confused after a vicious physical and emotional attack, leaving her with no energy to fight for her relationship with Aiden. She’s terrified and feels like the world is against her. Through some tough love and help from an old friend Jeni finally realises how deeply in love with Aiden she is. She asks him to take her back, but when she discovers Aiden is moving to help run a new business acquisition in Tokyo, is it too late? Alistair’s taunts and abuse toward Jeni worsen, leaving her already broken and fragile state to deteriorate even further. Will Jeni find the strength to pull her life back together? With jealousy over a possible new love and with tensions high, the conclusion to The Trust Me? Trilogy will take you on a rollercoaster ride. The electricity and love between Jeni and Aiden is undeniable. Will they see past all the hurdles and find their way to each other? In the end, Jeni will be asking the ultimate question: Does Aiden know that he really does have all of me?

Complete Me? (The Trust Me? Trilogy #3.5) is a novella depicting the lives of our favorite Trust Me? Trilogy characters following on from the conclusion of the third book - All of Me? The Trust Me? Trilogy. This Novella will be three short stories all told from the leading males point of view. Story one - Adore You? Mike and Callie's story Story two - Desire You? Chris and Sarah's story Story three - Cherish You? Aiden and Jeni's story

A talented young singer and actress, Australian born Katerina Barrett, decides to follow her dreams and move to the United States of America to attend AMDA College in Los Angeles, to further her music and acting career. On her orientation day a cocky, self absorbed and arrogant Will Sanders, catches her attention. Immediately she’s drawn and she knows she should stay away from him and concentrate on her career – but, life is never that easy. The chemistry is undeniable and Kat doesn’t want to let her guard down. When she gives herself to Will, she’s left hurt when he confesses that he doesn’t do the 'relationship thing'. Through a turn of fortunate events they are both chosen to play the lead roles in an up and coming new indie movie, the Nightwalker Series. Their relationship blossoms as does their fame, turning their world upside down and leaving them asking, are we ‘just friends’?

The Druid Series 9: Baird by Marata Eros ♥ Blitz & GIVEAWAY ♥ (Erotic Paranormal Romance)

Siana has disappeared. As an Exotic and Druid warrior queen, she is not fully beholden to the magick call of sex slavery as  her sister Druid witches. She does not realize as she runs, Baird and Kael follow with opposing agendas.

Now that Jessamine is within the subjugation of the undead, the Druid females will be ruled by the fair hand of Imogen and her Reaper mates, Carrig and Quinn.

Altho, and the gifted Druid female Seraphina, cannot reconcile the inception of their relationship, and her promise to be his as payment. Altho seeks shelter from the Reaper leader, Maghnus… only to discover what is important was not as he thought.

Can Siana obtain the freedom she wishes and the love she denies? Will the new kingdom of Reapers succeed in the protection of their Druid females? Do Altho and Maghnus hold the key to revolutionizing the power structure of both Druid and Reaper?

Altho slides them up the bark of the tree, their clothing catching on the rough bark, his eyes latching onto each Were as they approach.
It has been many a season since he was unlucky enough to stand face to face with a werewolf.
Something calls them from their reclusive natures.
Altho shifts Seraphina's weight and his hand comes away with blood.
Of course—Druid blood is a scent that would bring every supernatural who desires it.
“Oh dear goddess,” Seraphina says. “I cannot subdue them.”
Altho knows this. She is the natural complement to a Reaper or pure-blood Druid male such as himself. Seraphina can be used by the Were, but it would be sacrilege and the only gain would be an early genetic tie to the Were. Most Druid breeders have only vampiric lineage.
However, a small percentage have an ancient tie to the cousin of the vampire, both Reaper, Exotic and rogue.
Blood never lies. The Were are renown, like their relative the wolf, to having the most sensitive noses of all species on earth. It is no small matter that Seraphina spills blood and they come.
Altho counts six and his hands slick, his heartbeat thudding in his ears like a river.
His hands come away empty of runes.
There are spells, but without the help of runes, they might be ineffective.
“Do not let them take me, Altho,” Seraphina says, still weak from the feed of the Faction.
Altho knows only the slimmest of escape is possible. He utters the response she most wants anyway.
His arms tighten around her.
“Never.”

Nuts and Bolts
This is a spotlight about the basics of writing. But readers might find a few nuggets in here as well.
Oh no! A tech rant—how boring!
Come on guys, haven't you wanted to know what in the world a writer does all day? I mean, think about it. It's sort of weird that a person sits around and thinks up strange stuff for a job.
Yes, I'm aware, and I dig it.
Some of the biggest questions what goes into writing and I'll go over a few things here.
First, nothing gets read if you don't write.
Sounds simple, yes? (It really is, but a lot of potential writers get caught up in the thought of writing then don't begin because of the sheer intimidation factor. However, no one has taken away my birthday yet.)
For me, it's a streamlined process. Not easy in that I sit around with an open box of chocolates and tap away without a care. No. The words are there for me when I need them to be. A movie playing in my head. I try to explain it when I'm asked. Which is pretty much every time someone finds out what I do for a living.
I get a lot of blank looks.
It was simpler when I was a homemaker. Get the kids to school, wipe noses, bake pies. Be. Available. You chicks who have a fam know the drill. My family is mainly grown now and I'm glad the writing bug bit hard later rather than sooner. It would've been tough with my whole OCD thing I have going on now.
Instead, this is the new reality: Get up at 6:30 a.m. (Not a morning person, just sayinʼ). Hit social media (not like a punch guys, as in delve in and see what everyone's saying about The Work—mine and others). Answer correspondence.
Have more coffee. (A critical component.)
Go on my Gestapo March with Hubs. He's serious as a heart attack about The Workout, and I'm serious about... trying to skip it.
Back to the grindstone. Read through chapter of prior day (so I can get in the character's heads. Actually, they're in mine and won't be quiet until I write them.).
Write the next chapter for this day.
Insert edits that have been returned from the editing house. (Generally, I edit about 20 pages a day, plus write a chapter or two from two different works.)
Write chapter of other title after reading through. (Chapters vary in length but I'm digging 1500 words per chapter which is about 4 pages. However, I'm writing another title where the chapters need to be 2000k, which is app. 6 pages.) I don't know how I can do chapters to word length with precision. Or how I decide how long a book is going to be and I'm within one thousand words at the end. It's a mystery. After this many titles, I count on it.
Update back list with new stuff so it looks super-pro. I have a huge assortment of already published titles. Now that the number of titles is around forty, the oldest ones constantly need tweaking to remain current. I usually have a little bit of updating each day.
I have a tech assistant/manager and he is doing some of the really tough tech stuff. I used to do it all. Then it got like an unwieldy blob. I hired him, and he is now the Tech Master.
Yawning yet? No? Awesome!
Where do I get my ideas?
Oh how this question causes the crickets to sing.
It's easy. I daydream constantly (a source of amusement and irritation to the fam). And I'll get an idea. It'll bounce around the interior of my skull for awhile. Roaming the subconscious like a cheetah on the Saragetty. Then at some indefinite point in the future, a second idea will present, and the two somehow “make sense.” The ideas only make sense to me guys.
Now that we're at the end of the spiel, what's the Biggest and Brightest advice? Just in case, on the off chance, there is a budding artist reading this.
Keep writing.
Never stop. Write and finish the work. Then write another.
If you're not a believer this works, here's a few names of some who used this method with great success.
John Locke, J.A. Konrath, and Kristen Ashley.
What do these guys have in common? Huge catalogs.
My basic business model came from them. You can do it too.
Write often, write well.
Keep writing.

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Marata Eros (a pen name for Tamara Rose Blodgett), is the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author of A Terrible Love. Marata has more than thirty-five titles in multiple genres including Dark Fantasy, Dark Romance as well as her highly successful Dark Erotica series.

Marata lives in South Dakota with her husband, children and fur kids. She is an ardent reader of many genres. Tamara enjoys interacting with her readers via Twitter, blog and newsletter as often as possible. Please stop by and say hi :)

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Target for Terror by L.A. Iding ♥ Tour & GIVEAWAY ♥ (Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense)

Target for Terror
by L. A. Iding
Security Specialists, Inc
Publication Date: February 1, 2014
Genres:Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Purchase from: Amazon •
Add to Goodreads.

Synopsis: "If you leave on your own, you’ll be dead by morning."

Critical Care Nurse Natalia Sokolova can’t ignore former FBI Agent Sloan Dryer’s dire warning. After the Deputy Prime Minister of Russia dies under her care, her house explodes in front of her eyes and now she’s found her best friends brutally murdered. Ironically, the only bright spot in this nightmare is Sloan’s bad Ukrainian accent and his willingness to protect her.

Sloan is convinced that someone wants to kill Natalia and when he finds a link to her family, he’s not sure who they can trust. As they run for their lives, and from the passion simmering between them, they uncover a terrorist plot that could bring the nation to its knees. Time is running out. Can Sloan and Natalia save their country and their future, before it’s too late?

A Traitorous Heart by Tammy Jo Burns ♥ Blog Tour & GIVEAWAY ♥ (Historical Romance)

She thought she had lost everyone during an early attack by Napoleon’s forces. Then upon returning to England she loses even more…

He lost his new wife in a brutal attack six months ago during one of the first battle surges by Le Grande Armée. Left with an injury to remind him of that time he reluctantly takes up his mantle as a Peer of the Realm and uses his skills with numbers and letters to help the War Office as a code specialist.

Nothing could surprise him more than walking into a government safe house to question a suspected traitor and find his supposedly dead wife lying injured with no memory of their time together. Is she a traitor? Where has she been all this time? And is their love strong enough to survive or will the truth tear them apart forever?

CHAPTER TWO
“Good evening, my lord,” Lieutenant Harding greeted Derek as he arrived at
the safe house well past midnight.
“Lieutenant,” Derek nodded curtly. Harding held Goliath while Derek
lowered himself to the ground. Derek untied the cane and removed the two
pistols. “The prisoner?”
“Upstairs, my lord. She’s a right fetchin’ lass.” Derek nodded and paused
giving Harding a look that had the man looking sheepish. “Pardon me, my
lord.” Derek prominently limped as he moved toward the stairs, leaning heavily on
his cane. His leg was beginning to throb and become thoroughly uncomfortable. He
silently reprimanded himself for not taking a carriage.
“Has the physician arrived yet?”
“No, my lord.”
“Show him up as soon as he arrives.”
“Yes, my lord.” Derek climbed the short entrance stairs and saw the guards
standing at the far end of the hall. He gave a short nod before entering the chamber
where the prisoner was held. The guard opened the door for him and closed it firmly
after he entered. There was a slight figure lying on the bed in the shadows. The fire
burned cheerfully in the grate belying the seriousness of the situation. Derek stopped
in front of the fire and removed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat. He knew from
experience it would be a long evening and decided to get as comfortable as
possible. He wished for a draught for his leg, but needed all his wits for questioning
the prisoner.
Derek lit a candle from the fire. The glow showed the cracks in the ceiling
and the stained walls. If this were not more of a prison, it would be a slum. He
moved towards the bed and noticed the prisoner was dressed as if she resided
here. She looked more like a street urchin than a woman with traitor’s secrets.
Her feet and good arm were manacled to the thick bedposts by long
chains. Her other arm lay at a slightly odd angle from the shoulder, and her skin
looked pasty and was beaded with sweat. Her auburn curls caressed her sunken
cheeks. She looked to be in desperate need of food. A light blanket covered her, but
her teeth were still chattering. He attributed the action to shock.
Derek lowered the candle to get a look at the woman’s face. There was
something familiar about her. He studied her more intently, trying to see past the
grime that covered her. His heart picked up an unsteady rhythm. His hands shook and he tried to calm himself, placing the candle on the side table with a thud before he
dropped it and caught the whole bloody house on fire.
She turned her eyes away from the candlelight, and a moan escaped her
lips. Her hair was matted at the base of her skull and when he lightly touched the area
there was a huge lump and his fingers came away covered in her blood.
He took out his handkerchief and wiped at the red staining his hand, unable to
remove it completely. He lectured himself about look-a-likes and imposters. She
could not have survived. No one had survived. He had been assured over and
over. Derek grasped her pointed little chin in his hand and turned her face towards
him once more. She cried out at the movement. He focused on the freckles scattered
across her upturned nose and the lush bow shape of her lips. Her brow was furrowed
in pain, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
There was a small crescent-shaped scar under her right eye that she had
received as a child. Auburn hair, a crescent scar, and that familiar spattering of
freckles – it could not be, yet the evidence said otherwise. He fell heavily onto the
ladder-back chair that sat next to the bed. His heart thundered until he thought it
would leave the confines of his chest at any moment. He grasped the hand of her
uninjured right arm, not noticing the blood that covered it. He chaffed it gently
between his own.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded.
* * *
She heard the commanding voice and moaned as the pain filtered into her
unconsciousness. She heard the command again. I’m trying, she thought. She fought
her way out of the darkness to hear the voice she thought was forever lost to her. The
pounding in her head was so great it almost caused her to give up. She tried to move
her hands to her head, hoping to ease the pain. One was stuck and she cried out at the
pain that radiated from her right shoulder. Oh please, just let me die, she thought as
the throbbing intensified. No, she would not give into death, not when so many others
had been taken from her.
The voice called to her again. Perhaps he was her angel, come to take her to
heaven. She had always thought it would be her mum to do that, but as long as she
was with him again, she didn’t care. Her eyes fluttered open, but the light from the
fire and small candle on the bedside table were too much for her to bear, so she
quickly closed them again. She was almost certain she was going to be sick.
“No, open your eyes now,” the voice demanded again. Sometimes he could be
so high-handed. Nevertheless, she obeyed this one final time and opened her
eyes. She knew either he would not really be there or she was dead. She had dreamed of him so many times and woken up certain he would be with her, but there had been
no one. So, she decided, she must be dead, but she hurt too badly.
Derek watched intently as her emerald eyes shown brightly from behind
fluttering lids. They had a fevered look to them. Her face was so dear to him. He
brought her manacled hand up to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles covered
in dry blood.
“Contessa,” he whispered softly.
“I must be in Heaven,” she said hoarsely, “but it feels like Hell.” And with
those words uttered, the ragamuffin prisoner smiled at her jailer and then let the
darkness carry her away once more.
Derek stared dumbfounded at the limp hand that he held in his. In his earlier
inspection he had missed the signet ring that encircled her ring finger. He gently
caressed it. She looked malnourished. What had happened to her in these last six
months? How could Gabe think that she was a traitor? What possible causes did he
have to even consider it?
He stood painfully and leaned over her letting his lips lightly caress
hers. Derek stood watching her and raked his hands through his golden brown hair
giving it a decidedly rakish appearance. He paced the room like a caged animal
forgetting about his throbbing leg. The Earl of Blackburn alternated between
thanking God that He had seen fit to bring her back to him, and cursing the
circumstances all in the same breath. He limped to the door and jerked it open. The
guard jumped to attention.
“Have you heard from the physician yet?”
“Yes, my lord. He sent the lad back with word ten minutes ago. He will be at
least another half hour.”
“Damn,” he paused and rested his head against the hand tightly gripping the
door. “Send the lad for Lord Hawkescliffe. Tell him it is an emergency,” Derek
barked the order. “Give me the keys to the manacles,” he held out his hand and his
tone brooked no argument. The guard handed over the keys reluctantly and Derek
slammed the door in his face. He knew the man was only doing his job, but he had to
take his frustration out on someone.
He limped back over to the bed and released the prisoner from her
restraints. The chains dropped to the floor with a loud metallic clank. He sat and
stared at her, his thoughts chasing each other. How could it be? Everyone was
supposed to have perished, except the handful that had been severely
wounded. Nearly an entire village had been wiped out. There was a disturbance
outside the door before it flew open. “All right Blackburn, what was so damned important that it could not wait
until morning?” Hawkescliffe demanded as he strode into the room. Derek was at a
loss as to how much time had passed while he watched her and thought. The doctor
had not arrived yet, so surely not much time had passed. Derek shushed Hawkescliffe
when the woman winced. “Did you just ‘shush’ me?” he asked incredulously.
“As my friend, shut the hell up,” Derek whispered. “Follow me,” he led Gabe
to the fireplace.
“Well, what is it? What is so important that I had to leave my conference with
the Prime Minister?”
“This woman is not a traitor,” Derek spoke with conviction.
“What makes you so certain? Tell me you have not let an attractive woman
turn your head. You are a better man than that. This woman was found with
incriminating evidence on her person. Of course she is a traitor.”
“I swear to you she’s not.”
“Have you questioned her? Did she give you reason to believe that she isn’t?”
“No, I have not had the opportunity to question her.”
“Then give me one good reason why she is not, and,” he cut him off before he
spoke, “I assure you it had better be one bloody good reason.”
“Because she’s my wife, dammit!”

♥ 2014 RomCon Reader’s Crown Finalist in 

Historical Romance ♥