Author Archives: Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez

About Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez

My Niece and Nephew joke that I could open a used book store with all the books that I own. I love to read, that is my addiction. I can't go a week without going to a book store. I love watching CASTLE. I love to write stories and poetry. I also love my family, even though they make me crazy at times. I am a huge Donald Duck Fan.

The Slant Six – Blitz

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Sci-fi / space opera thriller
Date Published: March 31, 2017
Publisher: Darkwater Syndicate, Inc.
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The year is 2252 and Loman Phin is in trouble. A washed-up channelship racer turned freelancer, he hits pay dirt with his latest mission: a fortune is on the line if he can transport forty-three kilograms of human skin to a remote villa on Pluto’s moon, Nix. Little does he know his very life is at stake when he gets caught up in an ancient feud, chased by a space vampire, and forced into a death-race by the king of Ceres. Meanwhile, danger is always hot on his heels in the form of a massive space freighter out for Loman’s blood. With just his wits, his friends, and his beat-up cruiser, the Slant Six, Loman sets out on the most dangerous adventure of his life.
Excerpt
Loman squeezed the control stick, his knuckles turning white. The Slant Six blasted from the tunnel directly into traffic, crisscrossing the expanse of Island Earth Grand Central Station. The little channelship was a mere speck of dust inside a giant tumbling drum of organized chaos.
“Twelve o’clock!” Portia pointed to a great lumbering whale of a black Bentley that sailed across their trajectory, blithely unaware that both ships were on the verge of becoming unrecognizable husks of burning scrap.
Loman jerked the stick to the left and pushed it downward. With an abrupt drop they angled sharply underneath the leviathan. As she lifted off the seat, Portia felt her stomach clench into a knot. She clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from vomiting and kept them there until the feeling passed.
The Slant Six shuddered as its roof scraped the Bentley’s hull; the shrill noise curled her toes. No sooner had they cleared the Bentley than another vessel, with the image of a blazing comet stenciled on its side, cut into their flight path.
“Comet!” Loman snapped the stick back and to the right. They shot upward with a starboard roll, just missing the Comet as it barreled past.
Loman leveled them out in time to avoid a row of cruising channelships awaiting their turn to launch. The Slant Six weaved in and out of the slow moving ships so quickly that the line appeared to be standing still. Loman continued to navigate the quickly eroding pattern of traffic inside the station.
The mouth of the main tunnel came into view, with open space beyond it.
“There she blows!” he said. “Our egress to free space.”
Portia gave a weak nod. Whatever flaws the man had as a human being, she was thankful he more than made up for these with his piloting skills.
Island Earth Grand Central was utter bedlam as the other pilots reacted to the rogue channelship. Several ships spun in directionless circles while others bumped each other like a flock of feeble-minded geese in flight. Sirens from the station patrol blared, but it was already far too late for anyone to catch the Slant Six sprinting toward the exit.
The colossal dexelized head of the Abacus materialized to block their departure from the interchange. You’d think her gently drooping face would look a hundred times sweeter on such a titanic scale, but nothing could be further from the truth. At fifty meters across, those normally soft wrinkles became deep, dark chasms; her rubicund cheeks expanded into twin reproductions of the planet Mars—acrid and inhospitable.
“Now hold on there, sugah,” the trembling speech of the Abacus boomed throughout the station, filling it full of saccharine and horse sense. “If you don’t change direction, you may end up where you’re heading. Slow down and land at the nearest pulpit. What do you say, sweetie?”
“How does she know it’s me?” Portia asked aloud without having meant to. She leveled an angry glare at Loman. “You idiot, why didn’t you cloud our i-dents?”
“Don’t sweat it, Little Miss Moonbeam,” Loman chuckled. “It’s a canned warning. She doesn’t know us from Adam.”
Loman rocketed the Slant Six up the left nostril of the monstrous Abacus. He’d gotten them safely into the tunnel, and so all they had to do now was survive these last couple kilometers of intermittent darkness as they blasted down the flashing passageway.
Punishing vibrations shook the Slant Six, rattling her from stem to stern. Sitting on her hands, Portia gripped the bench seat even tighter. The shaking grew worse by the millisecond, threatening to tear them apart.
“Damn,” Loman growled through the noise. “Not again.”
“What is it?”
“Ah, the vibration damper ring tends to slip when using emergency propulsion for too long… it happens.”
“It happens?” Portia was aghast. “That’s all you can say? It happens?”
“Don’t worry, she can take it.”
A sizeable chunk of outer skin plating tore off the nose of the channelship. The twisted section of hull slammed into the forward transom and proceeded to bounce along the length of the Slant Six, banging and clanging as it went flying off into the blackness. Portia and Loman looked at each other, she with worry and he with what had to be feigned confidence.
“Not an essential piece, not really.” He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Loman begin furiously adjusting his rheostats. “All it takes is some extra pressure to compensate for the weakened hull segment and bingo! We’re good to go.”
The Slant Six was still shuddering as she shot out of the open crater beyond the domes of Island Earth. Portia felt the g’s push against her chest as they broke from the weak gravity of the moon. At last, they catapulted into the cosmos, free from the constraints of artificial atmosphere and away from confined spaces.
Loman wasn’t smiling as he made a few more corrections on a console glowing cool blue from the hot ice beneath its surface.
The vibrations instantly stopped and the roar of the ship’s emergency thrusters was silenced. All went quiet as sanity finally returned to their encapsulated world. The absence of sound was pure manna for Portia’s ears.
“We’re using her magneto-static drive now,” said Phin as he let go of the control stick. It retracted back into the floor panel.
The Slant Six settled in and drifted silently into the expanse of stars.
“That’s better.” Portia smoothed down her hair and flattened out the wrinkles on her disheveled gown. “You will intersect with the channel and head to the Kuiper Pass near Triton. You’ll get more instruction once we’re there.”
“Whatever you say… whoever you are,” he muttered.
About the Author

Born and raised in West Palm Beach, Florida, Christopher Cobb ventured off to the wilds of New York City for several years to experience the world of acting. Finding it a cruel and inhospitable world, he hid high in the Appalachian Mountains of North Georgia for a time. Having grown weary of snow and perilous black ice, his life path took him back home to south Florida where he earned college degrees at Florida Atlantic University. He now lives in Jupiter—the city, not the planet—with his true love and talented artist, Alicia, their two weird cats, Simon and Weezy, and his amazingly wonderful daughter, Emma. He is a member of the Bloody Pens Writers Group, as well as the Florida Writer’s Association and intends on writing more exciting books for publication. All this makes Christopher a very happy man indeed. Visit him at www.chrisfcobb.com.
 
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THE END OF MAGIC BY AMBER BENSON

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In the third in the “spellbinding” (Seanan McGuire) series from the author of the Calliope Reaper-Jones novels, magic has been loosed upon the world—and the consequences could destroy all of humanity, magical and non-magical alike…

Lyse MacAllister used to be like everyone else—blissfully ignorant of magic, of the dire battles being fought in shadows and secrecy. But that was before her great-aunt Eleanora died, leaving her in control of the Echo Park coven; before she found herself in the middle of the witches’ clash with the anti-magic zealots known as The Flood; before her blood sisters lost their faith in her.

As The Flood begins turning humans across the globe against the witches, Lyse must find a way to regain the trust of her former magical family and once again unify them. Because the final battle between good and evil is looming—and if the witches don’t stand together, all of humankind could be lost…

From the Trade Paperback edition.

BOOK DESCRIPTION COURTESY OF AMAZON

I was given a copy of this book by Netgalley for an honest review.

The End of Magic (An Echo Park Coven Novel) is a wild ride? The characters and story line are well-developed. Lyse and the rest of the coven are trying to restore magic, but a group called the Flood, wants to get ride of witches for good. They have captured the coven and have them in there lab. They must escape and try to stop The Flood. This book will have you wanting more! I really liked this book and series. The pace of the book was steady. I recommend this book to everyone. I give THE END OF MAGIC 5/5 STARS.

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Shadows and Teeth Vol. 3 – Blitz

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Horror
Date Published: June 15, 2017
Publisher: Darkwater Syndicate, Inc.
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Out of the shadows and meaner than ever, volume three of this award-winning horror series packs international star power. Featuring ten brand-new stories by the legendary Guy N. Smith, the prolific Adam Millard, master of horror Nicholas Paschall, and others, this collection is certain to keep you up at night. Take care as you reach into these dark places, for the things here bite, and you may withdraw a hand short of a few fingers.
Excerpt
 
My body crumpled forward, my forehead resting on the floorboards. I would have remained this way, if I had not been roused by a shout from behind me. Rosario roared and shook his head like an enraged bull, stamping his feet and frothing between gritted teeth. He clutched his temples and shook his head, and when he had gathered enough clarity of mind, he leveled a penetrating stare at the djinni and yelled, “Enough!”
All around Rosario, the peasant men stood frozen as though they were statues, eyes on the djinni. Clenching his jaw, he staggered forward a step, inadvertently brushing against one of the men. The man instantly spilled to his knees in supplication, droning, “I adore thee, oh my lord!” in such rapid succession that the words were hardly perceptible.
Scowling with rage at this irreverence, Rosario let fly an uppercut swing with his hook. The metal flashed in the dim candlelight and caught the man in the crook of his lower mandible. The man did not so much as scream, so overawed was he by the djinni.
Rosario raised his arm aloft, lifting the man fully erect, looking like a fisherman with a prize catch. Then he tore his dagger out of his belt with his opposite hand and plunged it into the side of the man’s neck between the skull and the shoulders. The skin at the peasant’s neck pulled apart, opening his throat as though his shoulders were yawning wide, until at last the weight of his collapsing body snapped his head off his neck. The body slumped to its knees and spilled headlong, gushing blood in spurts from its severed arteries.
Something like a sigh came from the djinni. Then it said, “Man is a foolish child who calls many things gods. Man knows not the gods.”
Its skin seemed to dull, losing some of the magnificent radiance it exuded, and I found that I was no longer overawed in its presence. Rosario helped me to my feet and together we addressed the djinni. The remaining three peasants all were unconscious, seemingly asleep on the floor.
“In the name of the most high, I command you to speak your name, djinni!” I yelled, thinking it could be cowed in the same manner as a demon might.
The djinni’s eyes widened. If it had eyebrows, they would surely have bobbed at my effrontery. Its eyes narrowed into angry slits that contained all the deadly chill of a winter snowstorm. “Hadst thou instead come to visit me, I would have attended thee in the manner befitting of a guest. I would have filled thy mouth with rotten pus until thy belly were full. Thou wouldst have told me a great many wondrous things of thy life, and I, having learned such, would have sent thee home with an anus so full of scorpions the trail of blood behind thee would stretch for miles.”
The images each word represented, along with the concepts and sensations those phrases conveyed, flashed in my mind as the djinni spoke. They are as vivid now as then—by God, I still taste the pus! These images are always in the forefront of my mind, constantly playing out before my eyes, and it is hard to focus on anything else except through purposeful concentration.
“Wherefore hast thou brought me here?” it asked.
Seeing how my last attempt at communication had failed, I bowed my head and spoke in lowered tones. “Djinni, we have called you to ask a favor.”
“Indeed,” it cut me short, “it is always so when mortals call upon the djinn. Impudent humans! What boon seeketh ye? Be it pleasure? I shall show ye such pain that the greatest pleasure would be anticipating its end! I ask again: wherefore disturbest me thou?”
It was then I explained we sought to spare your daughter from the ailment that would surely take her, and requested the djinni’s succor.
The djinni sighed, if otherworldly beings can be said to sigh. “Alas, thy mortality is a concept thy limited intellect can only dimly grasp.” It looked down at the floor as it considered this, then raised its gaze to make eye contact with me. “What wouldst thou have me do? The child is already dead.”
An image of her flashed in my mind’s eye. I was there, in the room with Bernadette as she languished in her bed, delirious with fever. The eyes I saw her with were not my physical eyes, as they saw more than human eyes could ever hope to detect. Bernadette’s body was like a red-hot fireplace poker, glowing orange from her core. The glow collapsed on itself, giving way to lifeless, cold black, shriveling into her center like a bonfire shrunk to embers. I knew she was dead when the light faltered and snuffed out, leaving nothing but a dreadful stillness in its passing.
Brother, do not think for a moment that so terse an account of your daughter’s death should mean I was hard-hearted about the matter. Nothing could be further from the truth. She was my niece, and—by God!—my only living relative; that is, save for you of course, if ever you should return to read this.
Her passing crushed me. It opened wounds in me, wounds that weep much as my eyes might weep. And while time has dried my tears, it has done nothing to soothe the ache of missing her.
I was flashed back to my study with the djinni standing before me. The realization that Bernadette was dead weighted my body; I crumpled to my knees and collapsed to all fours.
All of this, for naught! Frustration churned the searing bile in my stomach. “You must be able to do something,” I pleaded.
The djinni cocked its head to one side. “Thou hast misunderstood. I can do a great many things.”
“You could not save her!”
“Thou didst not ask.”
My mouth went dry on realizing it was right—I had not asked it to save her from the disease. “Save her!” I blurted, figuring this was as good a time to ask as any.
“I cannot. She has died.”
I plunged my fingers into my hair and clawed at my scalp. “Quit speaking in circles!”
“I speak as plainly as I can. Ye men possess little aptitude for understanding.”
“If you cannot save her, then…” I stammered. At the time, I did not know why I had broken off; I was only aware that I had stopped mid-sentence. I had found that strange, especially since I had already deliberated on what it was I wanted to say before saying it. In retrospect, I think I know what halted my tongue—some combination of my conscience and divine intervention giving me one last chance before I could commit a heinous sin.
“Then… bring her back,” I finished my sentence.
“It is already done.”
I blinked, and then again, looking upon the djinni in mute shock as its words sunk into my mind. Was Bernadette alive? When had she been brought back—when I asked, or sometime prior? Had she even died? It was not lost on me that the djinni could be lying, but before I could ask any questions, it said, “Thy niece lies upon her deathbed. Lay her body down in this circle before moonrise tomorrow night, and thou shall have what thou seeketh.”
A thought occurred to me then that I wanted to give voice to, but I stopped myself. To even reflect upon it sent shivers down my spine. What might the djinni want of me in exchange?
As if it had sensed my thoughts, the djinni said, “Thou wonderest what thou must offer to uphold the bargain. Rest assured, human, thy debt is paid in advance.”
About the Author

Our award-winning horror series brings together the very best in international horror. Volume three features the UK’s legendary Guy N. Smith, the prolific Adam Millard, and master of horror Nicholas Paschall, among other established names in the genre.
Bio For Series Editor, Ramiro Perez: 
Born in Cuba in 1941, Ramiro Perez de Pereda has seen it all. Growing up in a time when then-democratic Cuba was experiencing unprecedented foreign investment, he was exposed to the U.S. pop culture items of the day. Among them: pulp fiction magazines, which young Ramiro avidly read and collected. Far and away, his favorites were the Conan the Barbarian stories by Robert E. Howard. Ramiro, now retired from the corporate life, is a grandfather of five. He devotes himself to his family, his writing, and the occasional pen-and-ink sketch. He writes poetry and short fiction under the name R. Perez de Pereda. He serves Darkwater Syndicate as its Head Acquisitions Editor—he heads the department, he does not collect heads, which is a point he has grown quite fond of making. Indeed, it’s one reason he likes his job so much.
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THE DUKE’S DEFIANT BRIDE – Release Blitz

HAPPY RELEASE DAY
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THE DUKE’S DEFIANT BRIDE
Michelle McMaster
The Duke of Hawksmoor reunites with a beautiful spy from his past…but can he trust the defiant Lady Blade?
The Duke's Defiant Bride
Series: Brides of Mayfair Book 4
Genre: Historical Romance, Regency Romance
Publication Date: August 18, 2017
Carver Adams, the powerful Duke of Hawksmoor and brave war hero, makes a shocking discovery at a glittering Mayfair ball. The one woman he could never forget––the infamous spy, Lady Blade––is very much alive. Though he balks at the idea of teaming up with the woman who betrayed him and his men during the war, the beautiful former French spy may be the key to his next undercover mission.
Juliet Reed never wanted to love the handsome British army captain. After an unspeakable tragedy changes her life forever, the half-English and half-French young woman became a deadly spy for the French, known as Lady Blade. When she is taken captive by Captain Adams, the two enemies must fight against the heated attraction that burns between them, or betray everything they have fought for.
Now, a year after the Battle of Waterloo, the two former lovers––and former enemies––must re-unite in order to stop a dangerous plot which could cost many innocent lives. But with their volatile past and their dangerous passion for each other re-ignited, will the two star-crossed lovers risk everything to trust each other once more?

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Available now for $3.99 only. Grab your copy today.

An Excerpt from the Book

Take an inside look at The Duke’s Defiant Bride. Read this sizzling excerpt from the book.
Bellamy House,
Mayfair, London
April, 1816
Carver Adams, the Duke of Hawksmoor, had a secret. Two, actually—and either one of them would knock the ton on its head if the truth ever came out.
As he stepped into the glittering ballroom of Bellamy House, he scanned the room for his host and spotted him immediately.
His old friend, Beckett, the Earl of Ravenwood, took notice of his arrival and approached with champagne in hand.
“Your Grace,” Beckett said, bowing slightly. “Welcome. Though I’m a bit surprised to see you here tonight. Are you finally in the market for a bride?”
Carver chuckled. “You never quit, do you, Beckett.”
“Certainly not. If you are, Isobel would be happy to help. Lady Weston would, too, I suspect. Look, there are Alfred and Prudence, now.”
Carver turned to see Alfred, Baron Weston and his beautiful wife, Prudence, taking the final steps in a lively quadrille in the center of the ballroom. They turned and locked eyes with Carver, smiled and approached.
“Tell me, Your Grace, is it true? Are you on the hunt for a duchess at last?”
He was on the hunt for something, or someone, Carver mused to himself. But men like him always were.
“There is quite a crop of beautiful young ladies to choose from here this evening,” Alfred added, scanning the room. “Simply take your pick.”
His wife cocked her head to the side. “I do beg your pardon, Alfred, but what of the young ladies? Do they not have a say in this? Perhaps they don’t wish to have a husband. Even a duke. Pardon my saying so, Your Grace.”
Prudence, Baroness Weston, was known for her independent speech and intelligent mind, which was no surprise, considering she ran a successful school for young ladies who came from troubled backgrounds, or even the streets themselves.
“I am not seeking a duchess this evening, Lady Weston,” Carver replied. “But if I were, you and Lady Ravenwood would be the first I would consult for advice and recommendations. You are both modern-thinking ladies, and as you know, I have come to the dukedom rather late in life. Truth be told, I still feel like nothing but a lowly captain of the West Devonshire, and nothing more.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she replied with a charming glimmer in her eye, “but as my husband tells it, Captain Carver Adams was quite a distinguished soldier. You led many brave missions in the Peninsula and saved countless English lives. You are a true hero.”
Carver thanked her but looked away from the compliment, for there was one mission where he had failed catastrophically—the mission to escort a beautiful French spy, Lady Blade, to his superiors at Villarosa.
Two-and-a half years later, those hellish events still haunted him in the darkest hours of the night. The explosions… The screams of dying men…
And of course, the beautiful Lady Blade haunted him most of all.

Other Books by Michelle McMaster

Don’t miss the other books in the Brides of Mayfair series. Join the handsome heroes and spunky heroines of this sparkling series, as they find romance and adventure in the glittering ballrooms of Mayfair in Regency London.
“Michelle McMaster knows exactly how to keep readers entertained with the perfect mix of romance and laughter.”
– USA Today Bestselling Author, Julianne MacLean
 

Seducing the Bride
BOOK ONE
FREE!
Get it now!

 

 

Taming the Bride
BOOK TWO
Amazon.com: $2.99

 

 

His Courtesan Bride
BOOK THREE
Amazon.com: $2.99

 

Giveaway

WIN $20 AMAZON GIFT CARD
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Contest runs from August 18 – 24, 2017.

About Michelle McMaster

Michelle McMaster

Michelle McMaster loves writing about dashing heroes and spunky heroines in her historical romances, and is known for humorous dialogue and memorable characters. Michelle holds a degree in English Literature from Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia. She enjoys travelling, reading, quilting, and gardening. She lives on the east coast of Canada with her husband and their two dogs, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and a Border Collie mix.
Official website: http://michellemcmaster.com/
Connect with Michelle McMaster on social media: Facebook | Twitter

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ALPHA SQUAD – NEW RELEASE

Alpha Squad: Showdown BANNER

Alpha Squad: Showdown: A Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance

by Lorelei Moone
Alpha Squad #4
Publication Date: August 17, 2017
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Shifter, Bear Shifter

Alpha Squad: Showdown COVER

NOW AVAILABLE!

Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/2wKLQsk

SYNOPSIS:

Sean McMillan has always lived a life more human than shifter. Upon joining Alpha Squad he is thrust into a whole new world which is taking some getting used to. When two shifters turn up dead under suspicious circumstances in the otherwise quiet town of Inverness, Scotland, Alpha Squad is sent in to uncover the truth. So far, so easy; murder investigations are what Sean does best. Trouble is, one of the witnesses is able to distract him just with her presence. And he can’t shake the feeling that she knows more than what she’s letting on.

Lab assistant Erin Reid thought her work at the research project led by leading Geneticist Professor Blake was benign enough, if excruciatingly boring. Little did she know that they were all embroiled in a deadly conspiracy. When she finds out what she’s been involved in, the resulting guilt weighs heavy on her and she vows to make things right.

What starts off as an ordinary murder investigation quickly turns into something bigger and more dangerous than anyone on Alpha Squad could foresee. Is shifter enemy No. 1 Victor Domnall back with a plan more devious than ever? Can Sean and the squad put all the pieces of the puzzle together before it’s too late?

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ABOUT LORELEI MOONE

Lorelei Moone is an up-and-coming author of paranormal romance based in London. A lover of all things sweet, and caffeinated, when she’s not writing about sexy bear shifters and their strong-willed curvaceous love interests, Lorelei can be found baking cookies or cakes for her family.

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