Showing posts with label Awesome Excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Awesome Excerpt. Show all posts

Thursday, May 23, 2019

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Redeemed, book two in the Matawapit Family Series by Maggie Blackbird



Tile:  Redeemed, book two in the Matawapit Family Series by Maggie Blackbird


Tagline:  A single woman battles to keep her foster child from his newly paroled father—a dangerous man she used to love.


Blurb:  Bridget Matawapit is an Indigenous activist, daughter of a Catholic deacon, and foster mother to Kyle, the son of an Ojibway father—the ex-fiancĂ© she kicked to the curb after he chose alcohol over her love. With Adam out on parole and back in Thunder Bay, she is determined to stop him from obtaining custody of Kyle.


Adam Guimond is a recovering alcoholic and ex-gangbanger newly paroled. Through counseling, reconnecting with his Ojibway culture and twelve-step meetings while in prison, Adam now understands he’s worthy of the love that frightened him enough to pick up the bottle he’d previously corked. He can’t escape the damage he caused so many others, but he longs to rise like a true warrior in the pursuit of forgiveness and a second chance. There’s nothing he isn’t willing to do to win back his son—and Bridget.


When an old cell mate’s daughter dies under mysterious circumstances in foster care, Adam begs Bridget to help him uncover the truth. Bound to the plight of the Indigenous children in care, Bridget agrees. But putting herself in contact with Adam threatens to resurrect her long-buried feelings for him, and even worse, she risks losing care of Kyle, by falling for a man who might destroy her faith in love completely this time.


Excerpt:


Bridget held Kyle’s hand and led him down the hallway to the same door they’d opened during their last visit at the Children and Family Services building. Instead of Thursday morning, they were meeting on Wednesday during her lunch hour. Once she got clearance from the board of directors, she’d rework the visitation to late Wednesday afternoons.


When they opened the door, Adam stood on one side of the room, and Mrs. Dale sat on the chair she’d previously used, the one by the pop cooler.


Bridget’s gaze whipped back to Adam. It’d been almost a week since she’d last seen him. He still had his cream-colored cowboy hat, the one with the curling brim that made the waves of his hair kink in every direction. A tank top hugged his dark skin. A jean shirt caressed his broad shoulders.


Adam nodded. His dark eyes brightened at Kyle.


“Go ahead. I’ll be right there.” Bridget managed to eke out the words while pointing at the chair beside Mrs. Dale.


Kyle inched toward his father. His lips spread into a big smile, flashing his missing tooth.


“Hey.” Adam shifted to his haunches. “How ya doing?”


“Awesome.” Kyle ducked his head and blushed.


Bridget sat. Kyle’s bashfulness was a good sign. She choked the handle of her travel mug. Maybe too good of a sign. If Emery was present, who’d previously visited convicted felons in prison during his discernment at seminary, he’d tell Bridget that Adam deserved this chance.


She gave her head a good shake, anything to get rid of Emery’s nagging voice.


“Thank you, Dad.” Kyle clutched a bag. “May I have this one?” He held up a monster cookie, his favorite.


“You can have ’em all. I made them for you.” Adam led them to the small table.


“Really? Let’s color this one.” Kyle pointed at the Z Men coloring book.


“We sure can.” Adam set his big hand on the back of Kyle’s chair.


Against her will, Bridget’s skin warmed. Kyle used his imagination wonderfully, and she prohibited him from becoming absorbed in TV, computers, or other technological devices. Jude felt the same way and limited his children’s time in front of the too-many screens available to youngsters.


For Kyle’s sake, she should buy a house. Not only would he benefit, this might help her chances at keeping him permanently. With a home, he’d have a backyard to play in.


The real estate market was expensive, but Bridget could broker a sweet deal on the condo to acquire a sizeable down payment for a house. She’d paid off the truck early, leaving her a bi-weekly mortgage payment and the usual bills.


Children and Family Services provided an allowance for Kyle’s care. She did dig into her own wallet for his golf classes. Then there was soccer. Kyle’s first year of hockey had kept him amused this past winter.


As the director of the Aboriginal Student Center at the university, Bridget made an excellent salary that afforded her many extras. Even with Kyle’s extracurricular activities, a house was doable.


Mrs. Dale continued to take notes, peeking over her clipboard at Adam and Kyle. “How are you today, Ms. Matawapit?”


“I’m good. How about you?”


“Busy. There aren’t enough hours in the day.” Mrs. Dale ticked off a box on the sheet of paper.


Bridget snuck a peek. The woman whom Adam referred to as The Hawk had checked off still uncomfortable regarding Kyle’s progress with his dad. Bridget glanced up at Kyle coloring away and grinning at Adam, both quietly laughing. Adam held a red crayon Kyle had picked out, and he helped color the picture.


She shifted, clicking her nails against the bottom of the chair.


“I went swimming…I went for a ride on Uncle Darryl’s four-wheeler…I helped Grandpa polish the important cups after church…I got to watch the stars come up…” Kyle kept coloring. “I always get to watch the stars come up. I never see them here. They’re really bright and pretty at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. There weren’t any dancing lights this time.”


“Dancing lights?” Adam also kept coloring.


“Yeah. The green dancing lights in the sky when it’s dark.”


“He means the aurora borealis,” Bridget piped in.


“Yeah, that’s the big name Mom calls it.” Kyle giggled and gazed up at Adam.


Through his dark lashes, Adam peeked at Bridget. More than peeked. His tender look caressed the bare skin of her arms.


“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bridget fumbled to call up the notes section on her cell phone. “I have to write a few things out I need to get after work.”


“I don’t mind.” Adam’s tender gaze kept stroking the gooseflesh peppering Bridget’s skin. “You can join us if you want.”


Bridget almost dropped the phone. “I’m fine. I need to make a list.” Dammit, she hadn’t meant to snap.


Mrs. Dale’s bemused expression bordered on laughing at Adam.


What was the caseworker finding amusing? Adam had a right to try. Kyle was his child. The words Bridget had furiously typed on the phone blurred. Where was her brain? Adam didn’t deserve sympathy. He was a big boy and could defend himself.


“A wise decision.” Mrs. Dale wrote on her clipboard. “Men who’ve been in the system a long time never change.”


“Thank you for your observation, but remember, you’re Kyle’s caseworker. I’m quite capable of handling my own personal life.” Bridget made sure iced coated her words.


Mrs. Dale’s prim mouth moved into a half-moon. Her beady eyes remained gray cement. “I quite agree. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be Kyle’s caregiver, would you?”


Was that supposed to be a threat? If the old witch thought to stick her nose in the inappropriate place, she was pulling out the gloves on the wrong person. “Adam asked if I’d care for Kyle. Your supervisor agreed.”


“Yes, she did, based on my recommendation after I interviewed you in my office and assessed your home.” A warning lingered on Mrs. Dale’s words. “You have an excellent job. A condominium. A splendid mode of transportation. You’re…well, you’re not like…you do well for yourself…” She sniffed.


What had Mrs. Dale meant? There was a ton of racism lingering in the non-aboriginal population of Northwestern Ontario. Bridget had run into those who’d divided the Indigenous people into the good tax-paying Indians who fit neatly into Western Society, and the drunken, drug-addicted, homeless bad Indians who were a drain on the taxpayers. She was nobody’s good little Indian.


As for tonight, Bridget had promised Adam she’d go to The Gator. If Mrs. Dale found out, she’d probably class Bridget as another drunken Indian who relied on the handouts of society. The hard-assed woman might even terminate Bridget as a caregiver for Kyle.


She must talk to Adam after. Going to The Gator might prove too risky.


Buy Links:  




Author Bio:  An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.  When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

Web Site //  Facebook Page // Twitter // Goodreads // Amazon Author Page // Bookbub // LinkedIn //  

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Thursday, May 16, 2019

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ The Devil Take You by H K Carlton





The Devil Take You – by H K Carlton – Historical Romance



Blurb:



Braelynn Galbraith wants peace for her beloved Scotland, marriage to her childhood sweetheart, and a house full of children. In that order. But evil incarnate, in the form of Gard Marschand, turns her life inside out and destroys all hope of a decent marriage.


Known in the Highlands as the legendary devil, Gard Marschand raids his way across Scotland and England amassing power and property in his malevolent wake. He will stop at nothing in his pursuit to regain what is lost— even conceal his true identity and associate with his enemies. His determination is all-consuming until he and his men lay siege to Ross-shire holding and one feisty Scottish lass obliterates his single-minded purpose.


Can Gard abandon his deep-seated need for revenge for a love that just might save his rotten soul? Or will he succumb to the demons that hound him and surrender to the devil within?


I believe your stay in purgatory has only just begun…


This story has been previously published


Add it to your Goodreads TBR List


Excerpt:



A plume of black smoke rose over the burm, swirling into the sky.


“Dear God, not again.” Brae dropped the bouquet she had been fashioning and ran, perhaps stupidly, toward the village. Even with the wind whistling through her ears, the commotion and terror-filled shrieks of the town folk still reached her.


With her attention focused on locating her family, Brae didn’t hear the horses behind her until the last second.


All of a sudden, her feet lost contact with the damp earth. She choked on a scream as some unknown assailant grabbed her by the hair and plucked her from the ground. The destrier never slowed its pace as she dangled precariously in midair.


In agony, Brae clamped her hands on either side of her head—her scalp threatened to peel away from her skull.


The kidnapper hauled her up in front of him and body slammed her stomach-first onto the horse’s back. Brae’s breath rushed from her lungs at the force. She bunched her hand into the rider’s enormous black cloak and hung on for dear life.


While she struggled to breathe, the brigand wrapped his rather large leather-clad hand around her backside.


“This one be mine!” The sound of his deep voice chilled her. By his accent, he was English! Braelynn closed her eyes and recalled the warnings from Callum and her da. Had her own father’s words cursed her? Was she to learn the lesson the hard way?


She was afraid to open her eyes, but she knew by the smell stinging her nose that they were close to the source of the acrid smoke.


The horses came to an abrupt halt. Brae barely had time to register the fact when someone from behind grabbed her by the ankles and attempted to rip her from her captor’s lap.


“She be mine,” her captor growled.


To her horror her skirt rode high.


“I want her!” the second brigand responded while caressing her bare leg. Brae’s skin crawled.


In terror, she stared up at the raider holding her while the other slid his rough hands ever higher up her plaid.


Leather creaked when her captor leaned in the saddle. He placed one large booted foot in the center of his rival’s chest and shoved. At once, Brae’s lower body dropped as he fell backward from the blow. Her arms pulled taut, stretching painfully, supporting her weight.


Without warning, the man holding her suddenly released his grip. Brae slid down the horse’s side and fell to the ground with a thud in a tangle of voluminous skirts. She did not wait to disentangle herself but seized the opportunity to flee. She leapt to her feet intending to run, but her captor was faster. He grabbed her by the hair yet again. Circling it around his hand, he reeled her in.


“Not so fast, Caileag.” He sneered the last as if it were a nasty word. “You and I have some business to attend.”


Brae fought him, kicking, punching, and scratching, but to no avail. With his enormous reach, he held her at bay until another one of the black-garbed knights gathered her from behind and pushed her into the lean-to attached to the smithy. She landed heavily on one hip on the sub-floor, with the stranger’s hand still wrapped around her hair. He let it uncoil. Long strands hung from his gloves. Her scalp ached.


Petrified, she stared up at the small crowd now gathered. There were four of them, but more outside.


“Come, Marschand. You never take the women. Ya are just tryin’ to prove yourself to Cowan. Give her to me. She’s too bonnie fer the likes a you,” one man jeered.


All the men were dressed the same, entirely in black. But her original captor, the one they referred to as Marschand, was truly pitch-dark from head to toe, including his hair and beard. Even his eyes were two bottomless orbs of bleakness.


Brae gasped. ’Tis him! The devil himself! Absolute terror tried to climb its way up her throat.


Copyright © 2019 H.K. Carlton




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Now available @ Apple, B&N and Smashwords

Coming to other vendors soon

Also available in Print



Author Bio:


H K Carlton is a multi-genre Canadian author of romance, with over thirty titles in publication. From naughty to nice, historical to contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.


Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me



Author Links
Blogs:
Outrageous Girls (contributor)



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Thursday, May 2, 2019

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Slider Girl (Weird Fishy Tales 1) by Jack Crux





Excerpt

“It wasn't his face that piqued her attention, although with its striking cheekbones, proud mouth, and strong nose, it was achingly beautiful. Neither was it his inky-black hair, unfashionably short. Not his slim angular body caught at the end of the long years of transition from boy to man, nor his perfectly shaped buttocks that begged to have a hand squeeze them. He was more than bonny, it was true.
All these things retained her interest but did not ensnare her gaze, did not capture her attention as surely as a hook through the lip of a fish.
No.
It was his eyes…


There was nothing quite so depressing as an English seaside town, once the drunken day-trippers and fighting families had scuttled back to the cities for their winter. Fala mused as, answering the overpowering pull deep in her soul, she wandered through the insipid grey for most of the morning. As she walked, the wearying weight of her loss threatened to smother her like a rolling sea fog. Her dull, aching chasm of grief made it easy to ignore the tatty amusements desperately flashing their gaudy lights and playing infuriatingly catchy tunes at her through the murky mist, the frighteningly forlorn laughing policeman machine, cackling loud enough to penetrate the peace of any child's dreams, was one nightmare too many.
And yet Fala sensed more mundane fears roaming the deserted streets, so that the sense of desperation was palpable, the shopkeepers and businessmen losing all hope for a summer, now long gone, that had never delivered where it mattered, in their accounts. The town was tottering on the very edge of despair. All who could have, had already left the dirty streets for something better, and only the truly hopeless remained, flotsam washed ashore with no means of re-floating itself.
Fala fit right in.
Periodically, as if to add to her despondency, the salty rain blown in from the sea threatened to engulf everything in large, smattering spots. Earlier, for a time the sun had managed to fight through the dense cloud to bring a shadowy ethereal light to proceedings and lift Fala’s mood but towards noon even it had given up as if the energy needed to keep the sepia gloom at bay was too much and it retreated, swallowed by the cloud as the dreary rain set in.
Fala was miserable and cold, far deeper than the marrow of her bones. The temperature did not touch her, never had. She did not fail to be invigorated by a swim in even the coldest ocean. It was the paucity of spirit that sapped her strength, threatened her purpose. Danger could be anywhere. Her enemies were ruthless and efficient, and they thrived on the thrill of the hunt. Failure and intense loneliness stalked her as she shunned all human contact and simply stood staring out from the pier, a solitary figure almost indistinguishable in the grey, lost to the pull of the ocean and the memories that haunted her.
Eventually, sodden and shivering, she allowed her feet to take her where they would, and she shuffled into the last cafe at the end of the pier. To her surprise, it smelt of warmth and safety in a way few places did, but such unexpected comfort caused the warning bell inside her to clang harshly.
Something was amiss.
Something was about to happen.
Accepting fate with the stoicism of one who had previously tried and failed to change it, she chose a table by the window, shook off her saturated jacket like a dog emerging from the water and sat down.
She ignored her internal alarm's continuing dull peal with a studied indifference that silenced both her dread and her expectation. The need for accompaniment and love were both directly at odds with the weary acceptance of what such a relationship would bring.
She had been alone for too long and she was as tired as death. She lacked the will to begin again.
And then she saw those eyes.
Every colour of the ocean swirled there, from the sparse chilly silver grey of the poles shrouded in ice and fog at the very edges of the world to the brilliant blue balmy warmth of the tropics.
Alluring and so dangerous.
Fala tried to look away, she really did, to reject the hope that rushed through her as those beautiful orbs held her glance challengingly, but she was already lost. Lost in their depth, their current and their colour, flowing, swirling, pulling her in like the most hazardous whirlpool in the deepest water…”

Author Bio



Jack Crux lives and works in beautiful Aberdeenshire in north-east Scotland, taking as inspiration the wonderful scenery there. Find out more by visiting the Jack Crux Facebook page or tweeting JackCruxofit@cruxy95


Links




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Thursday, April 25, 2019

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Tuscan Enchantment by Kate Zarrelli



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TUSCAN ENCHANTMENT





This was no cold marble—this was a man! Antonia goes to Tuscany to rebuild her life. The last thing she wants to do is fall in love, least of all with rich, arrogant, aristocratic Lorenzo.


Librarian Antonia Gray has fled England for northern Tuscany after an unhappy love affair to work on the archive of a 17th century Italian explorer, a member of a centuries-old aristocratic family. There she meets his descendent, Lorenzo Quattromani, rich, arrogant, handsome—and engaged to the beautiful and ruthless Giselle. The last thing Antonia wants is to fall in love, least of all with someone so dangerous. His engagement, though, is not what it seems, and Lorenzo breaks down Antonia’s resistance. But Giselle has other ideas.


…she caught sight of him, lithe as an eel, gliding along under the surface of the water and she felt herself flame with longing for him. From what she could see as he sped through the water he was wearing just a pair of white trunks, which offset his bronzed flesh. Then he flipped over onto his back and she saw with surprise and shock not unmixed with pleasure that he was wearing nothing at all. Instinct made her look away just as he realised she was there. He turned over again and swam with an easy stroke towards her.

"Antonia! I didn't mean to startle you. It's just a habit I've got into up here on my own."

He stood in the water at the side of the pool, the lower half of his body concealed, the water dripping from his raven black hair and running in rivulets down his chest.

"I thought you'd be ages yet - women so often are," he said.

"Not this one!" she retorted, wishing he had not reminded her of his experience of other women, bust she did not have it in her heart to be angry for long. He did seem sincere in his explanation, and after all, she was a guest here.

"Please avert your eyes, and I'll make myself decent," he instructed her.

Antonia half wanted to say it's too late now and throw caution to the winds, but instead she did as she was told. She heard the slap of his wet feet along the side of the pool as he went to get his trunks from over a chair, and then his voice calling, "All right, it's safe to look now. The lion is muzzled!"

He approached her, smiling, and once more Antonia felt as overwhelmed by his beauty as she had been when they had first met. Now she could observe him more closely than ever, the broadness of his muscular shoulders, the taut hardness of his stomach, the strong sinews of his muscled, hairy legs. His hard work under Alessio's guidance had honed his body until it was even more desirable than she had remembered it in the moonlight. Yet there was something naturally proportioned about his muscles--he looked that good because he worked hard, not because he worked out.

"Antonia," he exclaimed, shattering her thoughts, "you're looking at me as if you've never seen a man before!"

"Well, that is, I haven't...well not exactly... I don't mean..." she stuttered in embarrassment, aware she had gone very red.

Lorenzo looked at her with a serious expression now, as understanding slowly dawned on him. Then to her surprise it was his turn to flush gently, and when he spoke it was with a voice low and trembling with emotion and desire.

"Ah, Antonia, what a rare prize you are!" Then he turned abruptly away from her and slid back into the water.

"Well, aren't you coming in, then?" he asked, his head bobbing up again, sleek and gleaming as an otter's.

Links 




About the Author:


Kate Zarrelli is the Devine Destinies pen name of Katherine Mezzacappa. Kate is Irish but now lives in Carrara in Northern Tuscany, between the Apuan Alps and the Tyrrhenian Sea, with her Italian husband and two teenage sons. She writes historical, erotic, feel-good and paranormal fiction, set all over Europe, and in her spare time volunteers with a used book charity of which she is a founder member. As Katherine Mezzacappa, you can find her short fiction on-line published by Erotic Review Magazine, Copperfield Review, and Henshaw Press.







Kate was inspired to write Tuscan Enchantment, her dĂ©but novel with Devine Destinies, by the landscape of the Lunigiana area of northern Tuscany, between the Apuan Alps and the Tyrhennian Sea. It’s not as well-known to tourists as the Chianti area, but in World War II apparently suffered proportionately the highest civilian casualties of anywhere in Europe. That history seeps into the book, as do the castles and villas of a local noble dynasty, the Malaspina family, who inspired the Quattromani family of the story.



You can follow Kate on Facebook at Kate Zarrelli books or on Twitter @katmezzacappa.


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Thursday, April 18, 2019

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Hot for Teacher by Kandeis Lynne

College is a time for new discoveries.  When Leah meets David Leitner, she discovers a whole new world of sensations and emotions.

Leah Gwaltney and Eric are best friends and have been since freshman year. Eric wants more than friendship but is willing to wait. Leah wants to love Eric. He is her best friend and she cares about him, but something is missing. There is no electricity between them. 

Leah discovers what she has been missing when she meets David Leitner, the handsome graduate student who is old enough to be her father. Instantly and powerfully attracted to each other, they play a titillating game of cat and mouse while he does his best to do the right thing. 


Eventually, Leah is forced to take things into her own hands and show him that not only does she know what she wants, but she knows how to get it. In a happy-for-now ending, they discover love does not have an age limit.

Excerpt

“Needs some help?” David asked.

“No, I’ve got it!” Leah said while trying unsuccessfully to lift the heavy bag clear of the can. Blowing a strand of dark copper hair from her eyes in frustration, she muttered, “Yes, please. Damn thing weighs a ton.”

“It galls you a little to let me help doesn’t it?”

“No…maybe…oh, shut up!” she said in mock irritation at the twinkle of humor in his eyes. Good God, he had sexy eyes. Gray-green, they were the color of worn military fatigues. Her breath caught in her throat a little as she noticed the widening of his pupils and the suddenly overwrought silence that fell between them.

“I…uhm…I better take this out to the dumpster,” David said without breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, you know, mice and everything,” Leah breathed.

“Yeah, mice…” He sighed. “Wait. What?”

Leah broke the tension by bursting out laughing. “Mice! If you don’t take out the trash, the studio will be swarming with mice! They come in through the loading dock!”

As David maneuvered the trash bag to the door, Leah called out, “I’m going to pull the gels now that the lights have cooled down.”

“Wait a minute and I’ll brace the ladder for you,” David offered over his shoulder.
Leah ignored his suggestion as she tugged the giant ladder under the Kleigs she had used during the production. The ladder, like everything else, was on wheels. In reality, the twenty-foot ladder was extremely sturdy. Rather than using a metal ladder with wheels, Sullivan had secured hefty wooden ladders to rolling plywood frames. They were massively heavy and practically impossible to tip over. In addition, she had no fear of heights. She had climbed those ladders with a forty pound Fresnel light in one hand so many times that she had lost count.

“Hey, I thought I told you to wait for me.”

“I’m…almost…done.”

Leah stretched to retrieve the last colored filter from the frame in front of the concentric lens.

“Heads up!” Leah shouted as she dropped the red and blue plastic filters from the top of the ladder. There was no reason to carry them down the ladder. They were trashed. Filters could only be used so many times before they became brittle and warped. These were at the end of their lifespan and so she allowed them to flutter to the ground rather than carrying them down with her. As she began to back down the ladder, she noticed the annoyed look on David’s face as he braced the ladder with both hands below her.

“There is no reason to be careless!” David scolded.

“It would take a wrecking ball to knock this thing over!”

“It would not take a wrecking ball for you to fall off of it though!”

Leah halted her progress down the ladder when she reached the top of David’s head. Turning her back to the ladder, she slid down a step at a time while enunciating with annoyance, “I…can…take…care…of…my…self.” On the next to last step she found herself face to face, caged in by his arms, still spread to brace the ladder.


Slowly David leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I bet you can, Leah.” His hot breath tickled her ear and sent chills down her arms. “And I wouldn’t mind watching that at all.”

On Sale Now at eXtasy Books


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