Please join me in welcoming Breathless Press on their Book Blurb Blitz Tour for their Current and upcoming releases. I will feature each book and blurb. Please be sure to leave a comment or question below because Breathless Press will award a $20 Breathless Press Gift Card to one random commenter during this tour. You can follow the tour here. The more often you comment, the better your chances at winning.
Rescued Love by Angelina Rain
BLURB:
Can the doctor, who made a life out of helping animals, heal a
human?
One by one, household dogs disappear only to come back after
senseless abuse. Veterinarian Jordan Powell will stop at nothing to ensure her
patients' safety. Even if that means seeking help from ex-boyfriend, police
officer Nate Thrillson, the man whose heart she once broke.
The last thing Nate wants is a relationship. He has an
inoperable cancerous tumor in his brain and his days are numbered. Yet, he
couldn’t resist Jordan.
It’s a race against
time to save the dogs and the man who captured her heart. Can the doctor, who
made a life out of helping animals, heal a human?
EXCERPT:
"We have to talk." His tone dripped with tension.
She turned to him. "I've had enough bad news for this week.
Whatever it is can wait a couple of minutes."
He looked irked and worried, and he avoided her gaze. The moment seemed
to stretch forever and Nate ran his hand over the back of his neck. Eventually,
he nodded.
She indicated for him to sit at the kitchen table and pulled out the
leftover lasagna Petra had brought over that morning. She popped it into the
oven.
"I hope you like lasagna," she said in an attempt to start a
normal conversation.
"Did you make it?"
"No." She sat across from him. "Petra did."
Why was Nate so tense? She was curious to know what he intended to tell
her, but given the pained expression on Nate's face, she was also scared. From
the look in his eyes, it wasn't going to be something she wanted to hear.
"So anything new about the case?"
He shook his head. Her attempt at conversation failed.
It wasn't until after dinner as Jordan washed the dishes that Nate
spoke. "We have to talk."
Jordan turned to face him, the damp rag from drying the plates hung in
her hands. "Can't it wait?"
"No." He stood, and walked closer to her, his stance powerful.
He looked dangerous. His eyes were cold, hard, the look in them hollow and
heartbroken.
She didn't expect to hear any good news so she braced for the worst.
"What is it?"
Nate sighed deeply, as though stalling what he had to say. "I can't
see you ever again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All For a Dead Man’s Leg by R. Ann Siracusa
BLURB:
Meet Harriet Ruby, a well-balanced
MIT graduate with a degree in languages, whose life has been good but ordinary
and predictable. Wanting new experiences before she settles down to a career
and family, she accepts a position as a tour director in Europe.
Meet Will Talbot, a handsome Europol spy and covert operative for the US
government with a dark troubled past, major trust issues, and dissociative
amnesia. Driven by guilt over something he believes he did, he has a penchant
for rescuing innocent victims caught up in dangerous circumstances.
Harriet’s first solo stint as a tour director in Spain and Morocco is
going well until they get lost in the medina in Tangier. There, one of her
tourists becomes ill. Harriet needs to find a doctor, can’t speak Arabic, and
doesn’t know how to get out of the walled city. A handsome and mysterious
stranger, Will Talbot, examines
the tourist, pronounces him dead, and offers to help her smuggle the body out
of Morocco. At this moment, Harriet’s once-predictable life turns upside down.
Little does she know that getting out of Morocco is only the beginning of an
incredible adventure in pursuit of murders, smugglers, terrorists, and a
meaningful relationship.
EXCERPT:
Looking back on it, I could
see everything would have worked out fine if Archie Philpot hadn't chosen that
particular time and place to die.
Not that he did it
maliciously, mind you, nor did he exactly choose. But I'm sure if he'd thought
about the welfare of the many—our tour group, to be specific—as opposed to the
convenience of the one, he might have staved off the event for another ten or
twelve hours. Then there would have been no problem.
Well, not exactly no
problem.
But perhaps I should start
when everything began to fall apart.
My name is Harriet Ruby, Tour
Director Extraordinaire. Or so I'd thought. I had just begun to believe my
first solo stint in Europe was a roaring success when we got lost in the medina—the
ancient walled city—in Tangier.
"Let's stop here for a
moment," I called to my tour group.
While they assembled, I
glanced around at the souk, the market place within the city
walls. It was a maze of tiny shops, tents, and winding passageways crowded with
Moroccans.
"I'm never going to find
my way out of here." I pulled out my cell phone and punched in my driver's
number. Mario knew the route and spoke Arabic, but he had gone to fix a flat
tire on our bus while I herded our fourteen tourists around the medina. That
was two hours ago.
No answer.
Harriet, this does not bode
well for your goal of a long and successful career in the tour business.
With the back of my hand, I
swiped at the perspiration popping out on my brow. "Please stay right here
and don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
All of them smiled and nodded.
Grimacing, I hurried to one of the tea shops we had passed to look for someone
who spoke English. No luck. I was only gone for two or three minutes, I
swear—well, maybe it was five or six—but when I returned to the place where I
had left my tourists, they were gone.
This was not starting out to
be a good day.
"Mez Harri Boobies!"
The shrill cry sliced through the confusion of sweating bodies crowding the
market. An arm shot out of nowhere, and a brown hand clamped my wrist. I
swallowed my shriek of surprise. Tangier was rife with hands that grabbed at
foreigners.
"Mez Harri Boobies, you
come queek," the man whispered in my ear. "Mezter Pillpot no good,
yes? You come."
"It's R-u-b-y, not
Boobie." I repeated my name for Mr. Takamura, one of the three
almost-English-speaking Japanese tourists in the small group I was directing
through Spain and Morocco. While my name was not destined to be in lights on
Hollywood marquees, for the past twenty-four years, it had served me well
enough. I had a sentimental attachment to it.
Without a reply, he released
my arm. Insinuating his slight body into the crush of street peddlers, dirty
children, and veiled ladies, he moved quickly out of sight. With a deep sigh, I
tucked my Adventure Seekers sign under my arm and followed him, devastated by
the foreboding that I would be nicknamed "Hairy Boobies" for the rest
of my career as a tour director, which might not be very long after this little
incident.
He penetrated farther into the
ancient market through twisted, narrow passageways filled with malodorous
bodies and a myriad of colors rippling in the heat—red, blue, amber, purple of
clothing, goods for sale, food, tents. In pursuit, I skirted white-robed
Moroccans bartering for goods, men sipping mint tea, and women painting the
hands of girls with rich sienna-colored henna. The humid air, replete with an
exotic mixture of scents—ginger, curry, rare perfumes, cigarette smoke, donkey
dung—stirred my senses. The crowd babbled in many languages, counterpoint to
the lilting melody of the seruani pipes.
"Wait!" How in the
world had they gone this far in such a short time?
He hesitated for an instant,
turned, and waved. Then he disappeared again. Finally, Mr. Takamura stopped in
a small plaza with a colorful tiled fountain in the center, a calm refuge in
the midst of chaos. In stray beams of sunlight, tiny motes of dust danced in
the thick atmosphere. The Japanese gentleman waited for me to catch up, then smiled
and bowed.
My gaze followed his nod.
"Ohmigod!"
Archibald Philpot of London,
the eldest and most distinguished of my tourists, knelt doubled over the lip of
the fountain, hurling his guts. Oh, boy.
My tourists—three American and
two Swedish couples and the other two Japanese—watched with helpless concern on
their faces while a growing knot of Moroccans glared at us, mayhem
glinting in their dark eyes.
The disbelief and thin-lipped
anger on their faces indicated they were not pleased about the desecration of
what was probably their water supply. I couldn't blame them. This could get
dicey. A drop of sweat dribbled into my eye.
Edith Johnson, a ditzy
fiftyish blonde trying to look thirty, was the first to see me. She clapped her
hand to her bosom and cried, "Thank goodness you're here, Harriet. Do
something."
Who, me?
I dropped down beside Archie.
His complexion was grayish-green, his rheumy eyes were glazed over, and by the
stench, I guessed the poor man might have a case of diarrhea. My stomach heaved.
Swallowing hard, I managed to maintain my tour director decorum. This was
definitely not in my job description.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her Unlikely Bodyguard by Lorraine
Nelson
BLURB:
A stalker who wants revenge…a past flame
rekindled…Jemma Leigh's summer just got interesting.
***
Jemma Leigh Harding has drawn the attention of an unknown stalker and
returns to her hometown of Somerville, a safe haven—or so she thinks—on the
east coast of Canada.
Theodore Garrity is the last person she expects to see, considering how
easily he walked away from her after graduation to join the army.
Their past history involves secrets Jemma Leigh is hesitant to share.
When it becomes clear the stalker has followed her home, Teddy becomes her
unlikely bodyguard. Will the terror and past hurts separate them forever? Or
will love blaze a fresh path for their future?
EXCERPT
(some adult situations):
Jemma Leigh quickly grew aware of Teddy's heated
gaze. Her own increasing desire for this man decided her next words. "You
know, he probably won't show up until tomorrow afternoon at the very earliest.
We're probably wasting a few hours that could be better spent doing other
things," she suggested. "After all, Jim would alert us if there's
anything unusual going on."
"True enough. What would you suggest?" he
asked, and she watched as his eyes raked over her from top to bottom. "I'm
easy."
"Yes, I seem to remember that about you."
She giggled as she walked toward him, trying to appear sexy, but her muscles
were stiff and sore from disuse. Her cast, thankfully, replaced with an air
boot for support, made getting around a lot less cumbersome. She stopped a
couple feet in front of him, pulling her tank top up and over her head in one
graceful move. His surprised gaze drank in the site of her, and his eyes
darkened with desire. Satisfied, she turned her back and requested, "A
little help here."
"Always my pleasure to help a damsel in
distress." He quoted her earlier words as he unfastened the hook on her
bra, freeing her breasts to fall into his greedy hands as she felt herself
being pulled backward toward him.
"This probably isn't a wise move, Jemma
Leigh."
Maybe not, but loving
you is all I can think of now that we're truly alone.
Jemma Leigh felt the hardness of his shaft as it
pulsed against her derrière. It had been so long since he'd held her like this.
If things go wrong, I don't want to go to
my grave without loving this kind and gentle man one more time. "I
don't care whether it's wise or not. Love me, Teddy. Make love to me like you
used to. Help me forget everything but you, if only for a little while."
"Ah, Jemma Love, what if he hopped a plane and
rented a vehicle? We need to be alert. We can't do this, not here, not now, as
much as it pains me to say so."
"Yes, we can. How can I be alert to the danger
when all I can think of is you? Remembering how it felt to have you inside me,
moving as one, has drove me crazy all summer. We're alone now. Just you and me.
Don't let him destroy what we could be to each other," she said, turning
into his embrace and taking the opportunity to run her hand up and down the
ridge of his shaft. "It's been so long, Teddy. There's never been anyone
but you for me." Standing awkwardly on tiptoe, she kept most of her weight
on her good foot and kissed him, summoning all the passion she had stored up
over the years.
Suddenly, he lifted her in his arms and carried her
down the hall to her bedroom. Setting her on her feet, he asked, "Are you
sure about this? If I need to stop, it has to be now."
"Don't stop." She pushed her jeans
down over her hips, baring herself to his view as she finally stepped out of
them. She stood boldly before him in the near darkness, clad only in silky
thong panties. "Make me yours, Teddy. Let me feel you inside me once again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unearthed by J.S. Marlo
BLURB:
Shaped by regrets. Bound by duty. Driven by
secrets.
Rowan's future is jeopardized by the regrets she harbors and the deadly
secrets she unearths.
***
Obligated to give up the man she loves, Rowan O'Reilly takes over Buccaneer Bed
& Breakfast. Though her heart is in shambles, she is drawn to Avery Stone,
a mysterious guest who reminds her of Bjorn…and everything she lost.
Haunted by a fatal decision, Avery escapes his past in Buccaneer's
attic, but he can't ignore the previous owner's peculiar death, the strange
bones exhumed by the spirited Rowan…or the annoying doctor vying for her
attention.
As visitors wreak havoc on Buccaneer, Rowan stumbles onto deadly family secrets and unknowingly unearths a murderer. Yet nothing, not even the threat of her predecessor's fate, can stop her from digging for the truth.
EXCERPT:
A cool breeze wafted through the open door
of the garage. Alone with the bones that he and Jordan had spent the morning
unearthing, Avery savored every drop of his latest Red Eye. The quiet solitude
and the absence of guests suited his spirits. No one bothered him while he
recreated his three little specimens. The dig had yielded two new skulls,
confirming his belief he was dealing with two rabbits and a cat.
"I ran into Terry Jordan as he was
leaving." From the doorway, Rowan looked at him with a haggard expression.
"He told me you completed your collection." Perspiration soaked her
tank top, pasting the fabric to her chest, and mud caked the sides of her
running shoes. The spirited woman wasn't self-conscious about her appearance.
One more quality he admired about her, though he didn't like her ability to
sneak up on him. Over the years, he'd relied on his sixth sense to warn him of
some one's presence long before a noise betrayed the intruder, but for some
obscure reason, Rowan shut down his inner alert system.
"Did you go running?"
"Made it to the marsh." In her hand, she
held a glass half-filled with clear blue liquid. She took a mouthful. Droplets
trickled down her chin, which she wiped against her collarbone. "Are you
going to introduce me to the poor dead animals?"
He invited her to approach the table. "Meet
Calvin, Cisco, and Rascal."
A bright smile accentuated the glow on her face.
"Nice names." She scooped up Cisco's cranium and examined it from
every angle. "I see markings on the frontal bone."
"Very observant." That she showed
interest in the findings pleased him. "But you missed the ones at the
back." He set aside his Red Eye to cup the skull. His fingers brushed her
hand, and he relished the softness of her touch as he flipped the skull for a
better view. "Here…and there." The tip of his index finger traced the
shallow furrows.
"They don't resemble teeth marks."
"No teeth." The lines were too precise to
be random animal bites. "A tool was used. Something like a pocketknife
or—"
A spasm rocked Rowan's body. The skull and
the glass slipped from her hands. He reached out for Cisco's remains but failed
to catch the glass. It shattered on contact, spilling its contents on the
cement floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blessed Homecoming by Lorraine Nelson
BLURB:
The hometown girl and the handyman both carry emotional baggage. Are
they destined to remain friends, or is there room in their hearts for more?
***
Wendy Danforth is preparing to be a single mom with her ex-husband in
jail for spousal abuse. She returns to her hometown to renew her faith and
heal. Caught off guard by the handyman in residence, attraction hits, swift and
piercing, but she quells her unruly emotions. She's in no hurry to get involved
in another relationship. Besides, at almost nine months pregnant, she's not
exactly looking her best.
Jake Roberts, hired to renovate the Danforths' house, takes one look at
his employer's daughter and wants to run far and fast. He hasn't possessed an
ounce of faith or been around a pregnant woman in three long years, not since
his wife and unborn son died in an auto accident.
They become friends, and when her ex-husband escapes custody, Jake steps
up to protect Wendy and her unborn child. Will the danger and close proximity
test their friendship? Or will it lead to more? Can Jake regain his lost faith,
or will it elude him forever?
EXCERPT:
Jake sat on the step with his head in his hands,
undecided whether to let her know he'd overheard or pretend ignorance. How
could he ignore the pain she'd suffered? More surprisingly, he realized he
wanted to be there for her, to prove that not every man was prone to acts of
violence. Although, like her father, he had some thoughts on what he'd like to
do to her ex if he ever had the chance.
She took the matter out of his hands when she sat a
couple steps below him and, placing a hand on his knee, asked, "How much
did you hear?"
His head jerked up, and he searched her eyes,
expecting to see anger and disgust at his audacity, but there was none.
"Pretty much all of it. I'm sorry, Wendy. I didn't intend to eavesdrop,
but I didn't want to barge in on you either."
"Are you all right?"
"You're asking me? After all you've suffered,
I should be asking you that question."
"My suffering ended the day he was found
guilty. All that's left now is the sentencing in two weeks' time, and I don't
need to be there for that."
"But you're expecting his child. How is that
not suffering, considering what he put you through?"
"Every life is a gift from God. I don't always
understand His methods, but at least I have one good thing resulting from a
failed marriage."
"Did you love him that much?"
"At first, yes, very much. He was the man I'd
always dreamed about, kind, caring, and it didn't hurt that he was gorgeous to
boot." She smiled at the memory, and Jake felt a distinct twinge in his
gut. Jealousy? No! Couldn't be.
"Love died a slow death when the abuse
started. He always made me feel like it was my fault until the day I ended up
in the hospital with a broken arm and didn't go back. I realized, then, my
dreams of a happily ever after were never going to happen."
"What did you do? Where did you go?"
"A social worker at the hospital made a couple
of calls and arranged a bed in a shelter for abused women. My arm being broken
meant I couldn't work for a couple weeks, but when I returned, I found out from
my boss, Emma, that he'd been haunting the place, waiting for me to show up.
She'd had to call the police on a couple of occasions.
"She became my best friend. Emma encouraged me
to lay charges and file a restraining order against him, which I did. I also
filed for divorce. He didn't show up in court, didn't contest it, so the judge
granted the petition based on the abuse."
"I would think so." He huffed in
agreement.
"I saw Clyde around from time to time after
that, and he never made any effort to approach me, for which I was thankful.
But the night before the divorce became final, he showed up after I got home
from work. The rest, as they say, is history."
"Can you really put it all behind you that
easily?"
"Believe me, Jake, it hasn't been easy. Easy
started yesterday when Mama met me at the bus stop with her arms wide open.
Until then, I'd hoped, but wasn't at all certain of my welcome, circumstances
being what they are."
He placed a hand over hers where it still rested on
his knee. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here. You are one
remarkably strong lady, and I'm honored to be your friend."
She felt the heat of a blush enter her cheeks at his soft-spoken words.
"My faith is what's strong. I had to believe the Lord has a purpose for me
in this life."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Breathless
Press Releases
Contemporary and Sweet Romance
About Breathless Press:
Breathless Press is an e-book publisher specializing in
Romance and Erotic(a) stories.
Our mission statement is simple: To provide the opportunity
for readers to connect with romance authors through the purchasing of quality
e-books at a low price.
Starting in the summer of 2009, Breathless Press came into
existence. Since then, we have been producing top end romance and erotic
stories for valued readers to enjoy.
Our Goal?
Breathless Press is an electronic publisher of paranormal,
erotic, and mainstream romance, releasing one to three e-books a week in a
variety of down loadable formats. It is Breathless Press' mission to provide
readers with quality romance books in electronic formats and to raise the
standard in e-publishing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don't forget to leave a comment or question below so that you can be entered for the giveaway. Again you can follow the Breathless Press VBT here. I don't know about the rest of you, but I know I definitely want to read some of these books and can't wait to go shopping.
