Saturday, February 15, 2020

Blog Tour: Silver Bracelets by Tari Lynn Jewett

 


Title: #Silver Bracelets:
(#HermosafortheHolidays Book 2)
Author: Tari Lynn Jewett
Genre: Romance
Release Date: February 14th, 2020
#SBWTMO









Tagline: 


A cop who’s been Framed, a klutzy school teacher. Will one of them end up in handcuffs?? Or will they accidentally fall in love?


Blurb:


So, you’d like to go viral on social media?


Fourth grade teacher, Ashley Swensen finds herself in a hashtag nightmare, when a picture of her crashing a bicycle at School Safety Day, goes viral, with the tag #AshleyAccidents.  And why is it that every time she screws up one hunky cop happens to be around? Before she knows it, she becomes an unwilling poster child for community safety. And even a St. Patrick’s Day birthday isn’t bringing her luck.


 Officer Benny (Benito) Lopez just wants to ask the cute teacher for a date, but she doesn’t want anything to do with him. And his friends keep making things worse. Then he remembers his grandmother’s advice, to make a grand gesture.


Will they accidentally fall in love? Or will social media keep them apart? Only her girlfriends and a little ‘luck o’ the Irish’ can help her now. And chocolate of course…


#AshleyAccidents #StPatricksDay #SilverBracelets #TrueLove












The Beach Break Coffee Bar was crowded and the girls squeezed through the throng of people to get to the table Evan was holding for them.


“It’s nice to be connected.” Ashley said as she slid into the seat next to Lucy.


Lucy smiled and started to respond just as Ashley smacked her on the arm. “Nooo,” she groaned. “That’s him over there.”


All three of her friends turned to look in the direction she’d pointed. Five good looking guys sat at a table laughing and drinking beer.


“Which one is he?” Mindi asked.


“He’s the jerky one.”


“You’ll have to be a little more descriptive.” Randi said. “I mean, they all look pretty friendly to me.”


“The one in the grey T-shirt. Don’t let that boyish smile fool you. He’s not nice.”


“I don’t know,” Mindi said. “I think he looks very nice. Look at the way that shirt hugs his biceps. Wish he’d turn this way so I could get a better look at his face.”


“What’s his name?” Randi had to raise her voice to be heard over the band who had moved back onto the stage and were warming up their instruments.


“Officer Lopez,” Ashley answered, trying to be heard over the music.


“What?” Randi raised her voice again.


“Officer Lopez!” Ashley said loudly just as the band stopped and the coffee bar buzz dropped to a din.


Officer Lopez and his buddies all turned to see who had shouted his name, and the lead singer of Reflective Lenses who was already standing in front of the mic picked it up.


“Officer Benny Lopez, you’re not even in the band, and cute girls are shouting your name. How’d you do that?”


Laughter rippled through the little coffee bar and Ashley considered crawling under the table.
“It’s okay Ashley,” Lucy said, “Evan just had a new refrigerator delivered. I’ll go get the box. We can smuggle you out of here without anyone seeing you!”
At least Randi tried to hide her smile, but Mindi made no effort to contain her amusement.





A sweet, funny, clean, light, too short romance, lol! A fast paced hilarious, never say never, or what could go wrong…” - Madm007

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Social media in courtship doesn't always work out especially when your so called friend stuffs it up. Fastpace, lots of laughter, family values coming into play, good friends in most cases. Beware you may end up with sore cheeks and tummy from the laughter you experience in this journey. Loved it.” - Tracy

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Silver Bracelets was the follow up to the Please Say Yes. It was a fast-paced, delightful, romantic story. I love the characters. Tari Lynn Jewette wrote a fun novel with a happily ever after.”  - A.

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Very cute sweet short story. Loved the humor and interaction between the main characters and supporting characters. Small-town and great friends, humor and heart. Definitely looking forward to reading more.” - Ruiz Kim

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ

#PleaseSayYes 
(#HermosafortheHolidays Book 1)
https://books2read.com/u/mZ




Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Southern California with her husband of thirty years (also known as Hunky Hubby). They have three adult sons, all who live nearby. For more than fifteen years she wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction…and now she is.


When she’s not writing, you can find her at the beach, in her sewing room, or curled up with a good book. She’s also been known to play a mean game of pool.


Tari believes in happily ever afters…because she’s living hers.


Links:




Facebook: Tari Lynn Jewett


Facebook reader group: Tari Lynn & Friends

Instagram:  Tari Lynn Jewett





















Friday, February 14, 2020

Book Blitz: Something Old, Something New by Various Authors


Something Old, Something New
- A DRA Production


Seven bestselling authors. Seven incredible second chance romances. One epic anthology. 

What would you do for another chance with the one you love? 

Something Old, Something New - a unique novella anthology - tries to answer this question with fantastic, different, desi dramas. 

Whether it is shapeshifters or shifting interracial relationships, single moms in small towns or rich alpha heroes, friends-to-lovers or passionate ex-husbands; this anthology has something for everyone. 
Something Old, Something New explores the many different facets of love, forgiveness, fated mates and more in seven, distinctly Indian tales!

My Warmest Sorrow by Preethi Venugopala

What would you do when you come face to face with your past? 


When Ajay, now an IAS officer, is added into his college WhatsApp group, he is welcomed warmly by all his classmates. Except by Diana.
Diana is still living with the repercussions of what had happened in the past. She is thrown into despair by Ajay's presence in the group. 
Diana and Ajay were inseparable while in college. Their relationship had transitioned from being best friends to love overnight. But then fate had intervened in the form of Diana's tyrant father who had separated them ruthlessly. 
Five years of silence has created a wall of sorrow between them. Their interactions in the class WhatsApp group are nothing like what they once used to be. Every moment is churning out more anguish and unpleasantness.
How much have they changed?
Is love still hiding underneath their public facades?
What are the lies they are hiding?

Read an Excerpt from My Warmest Sorrow


My mobile phone rang as I unlocked the door to my flat. Who was calling me now? It was eleven o'clock on a Wednesday night. 
As the project deadline was looming near, I had stayed back in the office till nine to complete the chunk of work I had scheduled for today. Structural designing demanded full dedication, even for a small-scale project. And my current project was unbelievably complex. 
Wearily, I slumped onto the couch and rummaged in my bag to locate the phone.
"Diana, you won't believe what happened today. And, where were you? I called you so many times," shrieked Ashima, my engineering classmate, the moment I answered the phone. 
I rolled my eyes but a smile curved my lips. Ashima had a flair for theatrics. What was it now?
"Go slow. I just returned home after a gruelling day. We have a deadline this Saturday.”
"Eek. Be like me and find a government job. The perks of a government job are endless. Private jobs suck, " said Ashima.
"Now, now… you must go to that magnificent job tomorrow, right? Why are you staying up all night?"
Ashima had been like our dorm room alarm while in college. She dozed off at exactly nine and got up at five in the morning, every day, without fail. What had kept her awake today? Or had her so-called relaxing job altered her lifestyle?
"Idiot, check your WhatsApp messages. I don't want to spoil the surprise. Thank me later. Goodnight for now."
No! I wasn't in the mood to drown in some WhatsApp group debate she might have started. Mostly, she called me for some additional support when she was on the verge of losing. Who was she arguing with today? Rahul or Avinash?
 Most of my classmates were politically active and any new government decision or policies would undergo acute post-mortem inside our class WhatsApp group. Rahul was a devout follower of the Congress party, Avinash was a self-confessed Modi Bhakt and Ashima was a red comrade entirely. On some days, their arguments would last long into the night. I didn't have the energy to jump into another such nonsensical discussion. All I wanted to do now was eat and sleep till the alarm rang at seven tomorrow morning.  
I switched on the geyser to take a quick bath. Then I transferred the biryani I had bought into a plate and placed it into the oven to reheat it. In the present Bangalore climate, nothing stayed warm for long. I was not fond of the winters. It wasn't the cold that bothered me, though. The winter season brought back long-lost memories, making me long for the warmth of a specific loving embrace. It also reminded me of my twenty-two-year-old self who had almost given up on life. 
By the time I returned from the bath, there were two more missed calls from Ashima. What was wrong with this girl today?

As I dug into the tasty biryani, I turned on my phone data. Notification beeps began. I swiped left till I found the WhatsApp icon. I had 1200 plus unread messages just from the 2013 Civil Gang, my class WhatsApp group. Some serious discussion must be happening. I groaned inwardly. I was certainly not in the mood to drown in nasty arguments. But Ashima would probably kill me if I didn't hop in and speak my bit.
Avinash and Ashima had sent me private messages as well. What was so urgent? 
Curious, I opened the group chat. Avinash had added a new member. Though our class had a total strength of 60 students, there were only 45 were members in the group currently. Many of my former classmates were pursuing higher studies whereas some had landed jobs in distant lands. Hence, we had lost contact with many of them in the five years that had elapsed after graduation. Occasionally, a new member would be found and added by one of the admins. Then there would be a mad rush to get reacquainted with the new entrant.
The name of the person added today drove away all my lethargy in a second. I blinked twice to confirm if I had correctly read the name mentioned in Avinash’s welcoming message. Ajay Menon. Ajay… after all these years? 


About the Author:
Preethi Venugopala stepped into the world of words during a sabbatical from her hectic civil engineering job after the birth of her son. She began as a blogger and wrote fiction to pass time. Her debut novel ‘Without You’ came out in 2015 and was received well. She was then mentored by eminent author Anita Nair at her writing platform ‘Anitas Attic’ in 2016. Since then, she has published 7 novels on Amazon and more than 15 short stories in various anthologies and platforms.

Giveaway:
First Prize - A Kindle
Second Prize - 6 Months Kindle Unlimited Subscription

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Thursday, February 13, 2020

Book Review: Saved by Love by Shilpa Suraj

Title: Saved by Love

Author: Shilpa Suraj

Publisher: Locksley Hall






Naina Ahuja, daughter of the CJI, is kidnapped from her tent at a camping ground near Thiksey in Ladakh. The captors, a terrorist outfit, want to negotiate her life for that of their leader’s who has been convicted of countless acts of terrorism in her father’s court. “A life for a life,” that’s what the kidnapping is about. Naina knows for certain that her fate is doomed as her father would rather choose his principles any day over his daughter’s life. Enters Lieutenant Colonel Arjun Rathore. He is to lead a team of four highly trained officers in a covert operation to bring her back safely.

Though at this point the story looks predictable, it is not the entire truth. The two protagonists do fall for each other in Shilpa Suraj’s Saved by Love, however, their union is not how one would visualize in an otherwise run-of-the mill love story. The story has depth and much more to it than just ordinary romance.

Shilpa’s narrative is stunningly vivid with a flow-y yet crisp language that is easy to read. While the plot is expertly conceived and executed, the dialogues are nicely rendered with just the right amount of thrill and humour sprinkled over the concoction. The next best thing about the novel, besides the engaging plot, is the character development. Naina, with her vivaciousness, is a strong character who forges her own path and finds happiness on her own terms. Arjun, with his serious and brooding personality, is the embodiment of a gentleman. The love that blooms between these two is sweet and poignant and makes for a good read.

A remarkable love story for readers looking for equal parts romance and family drama.






Shilpa Suraj wears many hats - corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author. An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.






I'd like to thank the author for letting me review the book. I do hope you end up liking the book when you read it. Thank you so much for stopping by, and happy reading!





* I received a review copy from the author in exchange for an honest review.

** Picture courtesy: Amazon.in






Monday, February 10, 2020

Showcase: The Vampire Next Door: The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter

The Vampire Next Door

The True Story of the Vampire Rapist

by JT Hunter

on Tour February 1-29, 2020

Synopsis:

The Vampire Next Door: The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter
While he stalked the streets hunting his unsuspecting victims, the residents of a quiet Florida town slept soundly, oblivious to the dark creature in their midst, unaware of the vampire next door.

John Crutchley seemed to be living the American Dream. Good-looking and blessed with a genius level IQ, he had a prestigious, white-collar job at a prominent government defense contractor, where he held top secret security clearance and handled projects for NASA and the Pentagon. To all outward appearances, he was a hard-working, successful family man with a lavish new house, a devoted wife, and a healthy young son.

But he concealed a hidden side of his personality, a dark secret tied to a hunger for blood and the overriding need to kill. As one of the most prolific serial killers in American history, Crutchley committed at least twelve murders, and possibly nearly three dozen. His IQ eclipsed that of Ted Bundy, and his body count may have as well.

Book Details:


Genre: True Crime
Published by: RJ Parker Publishing
Publication Date: October 11th 2014
Number of Pages: 365
ISBN: 1500909491 (ISBN13: 9781500909499)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 2: You were a vampire...
Nineteen-year-old Christina Almah was still a virgin, and a bit naΓ―ve when it came to matters of sex, but like most teenaged girls on the verge of womanhood, she enjoyed receiving attention from good-looking, romantically inclined men. Yet, even she was surprised when, after a handsome, slightly older man took an interest in her, she found herself traveling all the way across the country to see him again.
Christina first met twenty-two-year-old Carl Von Bane several months earlier while he was visiting a friend near her hometown of Westminster, California. She immediately noticed him when he walked into the Drug Emporium where she had been working for the past year as a clerk, and they had quickly hit it off. His rugged, bad-boy looks and confident disposition combined to render her fully smitten. But the budding romance had barely begun before “Von” returned home to Florida. Their brief time together had passed much too quickly for the love-struck Miss Almah.
Since Von’s departure, they had continued their blossoming relationship by telephone racking up steep long distance bills. All the while, Christina had meticulously saved her meager Drug Emporium pay so that she could afford to purchase a plane ticket to visit him. When Von had called her a few weeks ago, Christina hinted at wanting to see him again by casually mentioning that she had some vacation time that needed to be used. When he suggested that she catch a flight to Florida to visit him, she had immediately agreed. After all, this was not some fly by night infatuation. She thought that she might be in love.
Christina had been counting the days until this trip—a weeklong vacation certain to be a memorable one if for no other reason than the fact that it would be the first time she had ever traveled alone. She booked a direct flight on Eastern Airlines from Los Angeles to Orlando International Airport, and Von had picked her up there nearly a week ago. Since then, she had been staying with Von in his mother’s mobile home at Lot 12 of the Enchanted Lakes Mobile Home Park on Malabar Road, near the eastern edge of the City of Palm Bay in southern Brevard County.
Named for the lush palm trees that lined the bay at the mouth of Turkey Creek, the nearly 100-square-mile Palm Bay had experienced a period of rapid growth in recent years fueled by an influx of retirees, northern transplants, and space industry workers. As part of the “Space Coast,” Palm Bay benefited from its proximity to Cape Canaveral, home to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s space shuttle program. To the west of Palm Bay, just past Interstate 95, a vast expanse of swamps and marsh grass stretched beyond the horizon, home to an endless assortment of flora and fauna. Under the blinding gaze of the eternal Florida sun, cold-blooded creatures swam silent and unseen as they had for ages past, ancient predators stalking their unsuspecting prey.
Immediately to the east of Palm Bay sits the Town of Malabar, a small, quiet community only thirteen square miles in size. Its eastern edge meets the Intracoastal Waterway in a subtropical paradise of palm trees, sailboats, and spectacular sunsets. The area’s abundant seafood, perennial sunshine, and constant sea breeze reminded Christina of her favorite parts of California. That familiarity was reassuring. It felt comfortable. She felt safe.
A petite girl standing about five feet, four inches tall and weighing a little less than 110 pounds, Christina was not a beauty queen, but she was not unattractive either. Indeed, her green eyes and brown hair combined in an inviting way that most men found sensual and appealing, and she had enjoyed her fair share of suitors. Although she had shared a few intimate moments with boys in high school, she had never found one with whom she felt comfortable enough to sacrifice her virtue. Still sexually inexperienced, she had the classic Libra traits of compassion, innate gentleness, and a genuine caring for others, traits that were sometimes misconstrued by men. Still, it never dawned on her that Von’s testosterone-driven brain would expect something more than a kiss hello, or that he would interpret her willingness to fly across the country to visit him as a green light for sleeping together. Von had tried to take that next step during her first night in Florida, and when she told him that she was not ready, he had reluctantly played the part of the understanding boyfriend, but he could not wholly hide his irritation and mounting frustration.
Von worked at Gator Chrysler in nearby Melbourne, and he had to leave Christina alone for much of the day. That had been the routine for most of the week, and the excitement of staying with someone in another state had long-since faded away. On this particular morning, she passed some time by listening to a worn down cassette tape of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” album, popping it into the cherry red Sony Walkman that Von had given her. She played several songs, rewound the tape, and played them again, but after a while she tired of listening to the provocative singer purr about being “touched for the very first time.” She tried watching television after that, but quickly lost interest in the mindless game shows and melodramatic soap operas that dominated the channels. Growing bored, she decided to walk to Melbourne a few miles away to visit several friends that she had met through Von. She would be flying back to California the next morning and wanted to say her good-byes and make the most of her final day of vacation. Wearing blue jeans, sandals, and a black t-shirt with a Harley-Davidson insignia splashed across the front, she left the trailer shorty after 1:00 p.m. It was the twenty-first day of November, 1985.
As she walked out of the entrance of the mobile home park, a light rain began to fall. She could see dark clouds gathering in the distance and a westerly wind promised that they would soon be present. Somewhere beyond the visible horizon, thunder rumbled ominous and angry, its source hidden behind an approaching wall of grey and black clouds.
Christina turned left and started walking faster as the rain increased, heading east on Malabar Road toward U.S. 1 and the Intracoastal. She planned to stop at the Jiffy Mart at the corner of Malabar Road and U.S. 1 to buy a pack of cigarettes before walking north into Melbourne. She had not gone far when a small, light-colored car pulled up beside her.
Behind the wheel of the two-door automobile sat a clean-shaven man wearing a stylish, navy-blue sports coat, a black-and-white striped tie, and a nice pair of dress slacks, not the cheap K-Mart kind, but the higher quality cloth and cut of a more fashionable men’s store. The man looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had loafer style shoes, but he was not wearing them while he drove. Christine thought it slightly odd that the well-dressed man’s bare foot operated the gas and brake pedals, but she gave it no more than a fleeting thought. She had certainly seen much stranger things during her time in Florida. The man’s eyes were concealed behind darkly tinted sunglasses and his face was framed by a mane of medium-length, dirty blonde hair. He had a thin build, and though slightly pale in complexion, his handsome facial features held an undeniable allure. She could not help feeling an attraction to him.
Flashing a broad, inviting smile, he leaned over, rolled down the passenger door window, and greeted her in a friendly, reassuring voice.
“It’s a bit wet today for a walk, isn’t it?” he asked with a wry, disarming smile. “Can I give you a lift?”
Although Christina was initially wary of his invitation, he looked harmless enough and it was the middle of the day in broad daylight in a public place, so she did not wait long before responding.
“Well,” she said, deliberately drawing out her reply as she decided how much to trust the seemingly friendly stranger. “I’m on my way to Melbourne to meet some friends. Are you going anywhere near there?”
“Sure, I have to go that way to get to my office. I just need to stop by my house real quick to pick up a notebook for work, but it’ll only take a minute or two. Go ahead and hop in.”
She hesitated for just a moment, studied her Good Samaritan one last time, and then grabbed the passenger side door handle of the car. As she opened the door, she heard Sting’s new song, “Russians,” playing on the car’s radio.
The country had long since fallen into the depths of the Cold War, and the perpetual threat of nuclear holocaust loomed in the back of most people’s minds like some amorphous boogieman lurking in the shadows. As Christine pulled the door closed, Sting’s voice flowed out of the car’s speakers, echoing what seemed to be the universal mood in America and Western Europe, the growing fear of a nuclear attack by the Russian-controlled Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The song sought to appeal to the good in what President Reagan dubbed the “Evil Empire,” expressing a desperate hope that the Russian leaders loved their children enough to avoid the horror of a nuclear holocaust.
Suffering from the same state of uneasiness expressed in the song, Christina found herself captivated by the sense of calm that seemed to radiate from the man behind the wheel. They drove for a little while making small talk. While they chatted, she caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes behind his sunglasses. Their azure shade of blue added to the aura of assuredness he projected, and it seemed to Christina that the man’s eyes had the power to peer into her very soul, not in any unsettling way, but in an understanding, comforting manner that disarmed her naturally cautious disposition. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about her, and she was impressed with how articulately he expressed himself. He was charming, witty, and exuded self-confidence, and Christine felt relieved that he seemed to be normal. Some of Von’s friends that she had met were more than a little on the odd side.
After about five minutes, the man turned his car onto a bumpy, dirt road, and then continued on for a few minutes more before exiting onto a gravel driveway obscured by a tall row of hedges. Planted across the inner edge of the yard, the hedges had grown high enough to block a clear view of whatever was behind them. As the car continued down the driveway, a well-kept lawn, dotted sporadically with pine and oak trees, came into view. At the far end of the lawn stood a redbrick, Colonial style house with four white columns framing a large front door painted the same shade of white as the columns. The gravel driveway ended at a double-length carport on the left side of the house. The man pulled into the carport and parked. Two motorcycles stood at the opposite end of the parking area.
“I’ll be right back,” the man told her as he took the key out of the ignition and slipped on his shoes.
He stepped out of the car and walked to the side door of the house, where he paused and glanced back at her.
“Hey, you want to come inside for a drink?”
She smiled politely.
“Oh, no thanks, my friends are expecting me and I don’t want them to worry.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, before unlocking the door and disappearing into the building.
After a few minutes, the man emerged and announced with an embarrassed laugh that the notebook was not in the house after all.
“It must be in the back of the car,” he said, an amused smile spreading across his face as if he had just remembered an irresistibly funny joke.
He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, flashing her the same smug alligator smile. He crawled into the back seat and began looking around, grinning all the while.
Suddenly, the back of Christina’s seat shot forward, slamming her violently against the dashboard. Stunned by the force of the impact and shocked by the unexpected attack, she was barely able to register the sound of something rustling behind her.
Then something brushed against her forehead. Before she could react, her neck jerked back painfully, and she began to choke. Frantically, she reached for her purse, attempting to grab something – anything – to try to defend herself. Her fingers brushed against the top of a can of OFF insect repellant. Desperate, she thought that if she could spray her attacker in his eyes, she might be able to blind him long enough to get away.
But as her fingers closed around the spray can, the man’s voice, angry and powerful, startled her into submission.
Stop it or I’ll kill you!”
As her initial impulse of self-defense gave way to a paralyzing feeling of despair, her hand retreated out of her purse and her arm fell numbly to her side.
Then the rope tightened and everything went black.
***
Excerpt from The Vampire Next Door: The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter. Copyright 2014 by JT Hunter. Reproduced with permission from JT Hunter. All rights reserved.



Author Bio:

J.T. Hunter
J.T. Hunter is an attorney with over fourteen years of experience practicing law, including criminal law and appeals, and he has significant training in criminal investigation techniques. He is also a college professor in Florida where his teaching interests focus on the intersection of criminal psychology, law, and literature.

Catch Up With J.T. Hunter On:
jthunter.org, Goodreads, BookBub, Twitter, Instagram, & Facebook!





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