Category Archives: spotlight

by | March 22, 2016 · 5:09 pm

The Darkness That Could Be Felt: Treasure of the Raven King Book One -Spotlight

The Darkness FrontCover (5)

 

The Darkness That Could Be Felt: Treasure of the Raven King Book One

Book Description:
Women are disappearing off the streets of Vienna in 1684 and Captain Mathis Zieglar vows to find out why. Defying orders to break off his investigation, he discovers they are being trafficked into the Muslim slave market. His only hope of ransoming them from a life of abuse is to find the treasure of the Raven King. The treasure is a secret code lodged inside an ancient text that will rock the Ottoman and Holy Roman Empires to their foundations.

 

EXCERPT

Chapter One
November, 1462
Wallachia, near Castle King’s Rock

“The Mohammedans have found us, Sire.”
Vlad Dracula, War Lord of Wallachia and Transylvania, jerked his horse to a stop. Dracula snapped his head around to look at his companion. “How close, Grigore?”
An excited buzz broke out amongst the warlord’s ten bodyguards. They came to a halt, sending up billows of dough-colored dust that contrasted with the forest’s darkness. Sweat dripped down their leather armor. Their horses pawed the ground impatiently, straining to resume their canters.
Grigore steadied himself with one hand against the back of his panting horse and caught his breath. He turned his steed around and pointed to a mountain pass five hundred feet up the road. “They’re there, Prince. If we pause for a short rest, they’ll be upon us and have our necks.”
“Damn. Reversing our horse’s shoes didn’t throw them off our trail for long,” gasped a trooper beside Dracula, fighting to control a mount that grew nervous as the pitch of desperation in the men’s voices intensified.
Dracula nodded as he tightened his grip on the reins. He focused on the road climbing sharply to the west. “No one can outrun Turkish cavalry forever, Luca. The spahis never quit.”
Cold hatred stiffened him in his saddle. He would love dashing into his pursuers and tearing into as many as possible before they could bring him down. It would be sweet revenge. They had taunted his fiancée until she flung herself from the castle window to her death. But no, not now. There was something more important to finish, something that would deliciously even the score.
Dracula called out to a man holding the reins of a packhorse. Bulging saddlebags draped over the animal’s sides. “Imre, you and Cosmin must take the next road away from us and keep the treasure safe.”
Dracula looked toward a basket lashed to the side of a mule, which was tied to the packhorse. A small head with wide eyes peered over the brim. “And take my son with you. Remember, you hold the fate of Christendom in your hands. Make your way to Buda and meet me there.”
As the men rode away with the boy, Dracula pulled chainmail over his head and tossed it to the side of the road. “Lighten your load, brothers. If we can make it to the next pass, the Hungarian army will save us.”
The small band of Dracula’s retainers cast aside their armor, then spurred their sweating mounts up the grade.
His heart pounding like a drum, Dracula racked his memory. There was a special trail up there somewhere. He’d outwit the Mohammedans, he always did.
Halfway up the grade, an arrow flew over his shoulder. Another struck Grigore in the leg.
“Radu.” Dracula cursed. “My brother has shown the Turks the shortcut.”
A minute later, a band of Turkish spahis emerged from the woods close behind them. Luca screamed as an arrow knocked him off his horse. The shafts buzzed closer as the men approached the top of the ridge.
Suddenly, the Turks halted and the arrows stopped. Rows of mounted soldiers in black armor appeared at the crest, led by a standard-bearer holding a brilliant red flag with a raven in the middle flanked by diagonal squares containing lions. Archers raised their bows, ready to let their arrows fly over the Wallachians and into the Turks behind them.
“God’s mercy,” one of Dracula’s companions cried out. “The Hungarian Black Army.”
Shouts of greetings roared from the rescuers, who met the refugees and led them to a base camp in a clearing on a nearby ridge. As the Wallachians dismounted, a heavily armored man emerged with a measured pace from a tent, flying the army banner.
Dracula cast his reins aside and opened his arms as if to embrace the man. “General von Brandeis, how good to—”
Von Brandeis raised his hand to block his visitor’s embrace. “Throw this man in chains.”

June, 1466, Four Years Later.
Beneath the king of Hungary’s summer palace in Visegrad, Hungary

“Walk quicker, daughter, we haven’t all day,” Father Adan urged.
Ilona stumbled haltingly over the rough earth, steadying herself against the tunnel’s uneven earthen walls. She could barely keep up with the wraith-like figure in front of her who stepped rapidly down the descending passage as surely as if he lived there. After tripping over stones twice, she lowered her flickering candle to light her path. But her carefulness only slowed her pace. Father Adan soon pulled ahead and disappeared, the winding tunnel cutting off his light.
Ilona shivered. Was the priest leaving her behind? Despite her fear, she had to pause a moment to massage her sore foot. She lowered her headpiece to her shoulders and felt dampness soaking the hem of her dress. Disgusted, she rolled the skirt up to her knees. The candlelight revealed a small stream trickling down the tunnel’s floor. “Another miserable irritation,” she muttered.
She drew in a long breath, inhaled the musty air, and fought her anxiety. She would make it to the Tower of Solomon if it killed her. Then she would cast her net around the legendary man everyone traveled to Visegrad to gawk at. Her charms would overcome him and he would make her his consort. From now on, whenever visitors from Venice to Paris visited, they would speak of the beautiful Princess Ilona. “Then I’ll be rescued from my wretched existence,” she vowed.
Father Adan’s voice drew near again, speaking with restrained intensity. “Now, now, daughter, your life is far from wretched. Come along. We have to make this quick or we’ll be noticed and have to face the king’s wrath. If he finds out I showed you this tunnel, he’ll put me in prison and not one as nice as the one we’re going to.”
“Father, you are a true saint for helping me. The day will come when I’ll thank you by getting you promoted to a higher position in the church. You are an incredibly wonderful man.”
Father Adan grunted wearily as if he had heard it all before. “Yes, yes. Let’s just finish this.”
Ilona resumed walking. The priest slowed a little, enabling them to stay together. Finally, they reached an enlarged area containing an iron gate lit up by wall torches and guarded by two sword-bearing sentinels.
Father Adan motioned to Ilona to retreat into the tunnel behind them. His voice rose into a scolding falsetto, something he did in times of stress. “Lower your veil before they see your face. Don’t say a word until we reach our destination. Remember, our purpose is to bring Vlad Dracula into the arms of the Church.”
Well, Ilona would see to it he’d fall into someone’s arms, all right. She tugged the veil over her face. Her heart pounded as they re-approached the soldiers.
“Father Adan?” one of them called out.
The priest nodded, reached into his cassock, and pressed coins into an officer’s hands. He swung the barred door open, revealing a narrow stone staircase leading upward.
“Shouldn’t we ask who this woman is?” another sentry asked his superior.
“You should trust the priest and be satisfied with your portion of the fee,” the officer snapped.
Father Adan and Ilona ascended the steps to the first floor. The priest paused at the top of the staircase, slowly opened a door, and looked both ways down a hallway. He motioned to Ilona. They went a few feet down to their right until they were at the foot of a winding set of steps. They climbed until they reached a landing on the top floor.
There they encountered five guards, three of whom had nodded off in their chairs above mugs spilled over the floor. Two others wearing blackened breastplates stood alert, each one steadying a gleaming halberd. Adan turned to Ilona, warned her by raising his finger to his lips, and then paid the two men.
The soldiers turned around, opened a grilled door, and stepped inside. They reached for curtains hanging from an arch inside, but an erect figure threw the folds open before they could act. The man had a thin, wolf-like head divided by an aquiline nose over a brushy mustache that rose in a grin. “Father Adan, Princess Ilona,” his voice seemed to echo inside his throat.
Ilona’s legs began to buckle, she stared blankly, transfixed like a bird caught in a viper’s gaze. Who else could this be but Vlad Dracula? She gasped. His eyes sparkled like emeralds.
Father Adan recovered sufficiently to point excitedly to the sleeping guards. “Quiet. For heaven’s sakes, you’ll wake them.”
“Small chance of that.” Vlad laughed with disdain. “Those drinks would knock out a gargoyle.”
He stepped forward, took Ilona by her hand, and kissed it. “You honor me with your visit, Princess.”
Surprised Vlad recognized her, Ilona nodded, and then slid her hands sensuously down the sides of her neck where they found the edges of her scarf. She brushed it and her veil to the floor with one motion, exposing an embroidered beige dress. The neckline plunged low, exposing rounded breasts that rose and fell with each breath.
Dracula’s eyes startled her; they seemed to shine with satisfaction rather than excitement, not the reaction she got from other men. Was he not pleased?
“Forgive her, St. Agnes.” Adan rushed to Ilona, stopping only to scoop up her veil and scarf. He attempted to put them back on. “Modesty, woman.”
“St. Agnes never found a husband, Father.”
They struggled briefly until she waved her hands in disgust and gave in. She would let him have his way for the moment. There would be plenty of time for Vlad in the future.
“Let me speak to him,” she pleaded as Father Adan dropped the veil over her.
The priest folded his arms and retreated, but only a few steps. “You may speak as long as you remain properly dressed, daughter.”
Ilona sighed and turned to the man she came to visit. “Vlad Dracula, my visit here was supposed to be a secret between Father Adan and myself. How did you recognize me beneath my veil?”
Dracula’s smile exposed a row of white teeth. “A man who inherits his throne from his father learns very little about how to rule.” He heaved a long steady breath and moved close to her, his voice low. “But a warlord, a voivode, must earn the right to rule. He can only survive if he knows the future before it happens. And then, he must seize the moment.”
Vlad’s energy gripped Ilona and held her. She struggled in vain to talk. Finally, she squeaked out a breathless sentence. “Tell me how you knew about my coming, Voivode.”
Vlad drew back Ilona’s veil and put his lips to her ear. “I share my powers only with those who share theirs with me.”
She put her hands to her tingling throat. After taking a breath, she whispered back. “Of what benefit will it be for me to share what I have with you?”
Vlad stepped back, grabbed the edges of the curtain, and closed them, leaving only his head visible. “We have much to discuss, Princess. Until that time, dream of tomorrow.”
The drapery closed, and he vanished.

 

Links:
Website: https://www.cwaynedawson.com/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Darkness-That-Could-Treasure-Raven-ebook/dp/B01BLYJXVA/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CWayneDawson/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CWayneDawson

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Author Bio:
C. Wayne Dawson writes for The Williamson County Sun, and has written for History Magazine, Focus On Georgetown, and SAFVIC Law Enforcement Newsletter. He also founded Central Texas Authors, a group that helps authors promote and market their books through media and collaborative efforts.

C. Wayne Dawson was a Professor of History for ten years and created the Chautauqua program at Mt. San Antonio College. There, he invited scholars, government officials and activists from clashing perspectives to engage one another in a rational, but passionate public forum.

The discussions took on the burning issues of the day: Immigration, Islam and Democracy, Israel or Palestine, The Patriot Act, and Human Trafficking. Attendance ranged from 200-350 people, including students, faculty and the general public. These events attracted representatives from the press, several radio stations, and Telemundo television.

In 2009, the students of Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society honored him with the Glaux Mentor Teacher of Year Award for his efforts in bringing the Chautuaqua program to Mt. SAC.
In the fall of 2012, he delivered six lectures at Sun City’s Senior University on “Muslims and Christians, the Struggle for Europe, 1453-1697.”

He recently completed writing his historically based novel, Vienna’s Last Jihad and begun his second, Treasure of the Raven King.

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by | February 23, 2016 · 5:00 am

Carolyn Brown One Texas Cowboy Too Many Spotlight Tour

9781402296116

Title: One Texas Cowboy Too Many
Author: Carolyn Brown
Series: Burnt Boot, Texas #3
Pubdate: March 1st, 2016
ISBN: 9781402296116

Carolyn Brown’s New York Times and USA Today bestselling cowboys prove that love is bigger in Burnt Boot, Texas

She’s got too many cowboys on her hands
Leah Brennan has always been the good girl of the Brennan family, groomed to become the matriarch of the clan. When a dark-eyed, tattooed, ponytailed bad boy saunters into her life, Leah knows he’s off-limits—but his mesmerizing gaze makes her forget everything she used to think was important. As town-wide tension rises, Leah wonders if love really can conquer all…

And the whole town’s taking sides
When Rhett O’Donnell roars into Burnt Boot on a hot July evening, the first thing he sees is a beautiful blonde. She puts a little extra giddy-up in his heartbeat, but when Rhett’s desire throws him into the middle of a love triangle and a hundred-year-old feud, he realizes that winning his cowgirl’s heart will be a lot more complicated than he thought.

NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author and RITA Finalist, Carolyn Brown, has published more than seventy books. She has written historical single title, historical series, contemporary series and single titles, cowboy romance and women’s fiction. These days she is concentrating on her two loves: romantic women’s fiction and cowboy romance. She and her husband, a retired English teacher, make their home in southern Oklahoma. They have three grown children and enough grandchildren to keep them young. When she’s not writing she likes to spend time in her back yard with her two cats, Boots Randolph Terminator Outlaw and Chester Fat Boy, and watch them protect the yard from vicious critters like field mice, crickets and spiders.

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/1PROYrn
Apple: https://amzn.to/1R066ue
BAM: https://bit.ly/1o79GsJ
B&N: https://bit.ly/1QwOtzb
Chapters: https://bit.ly/1RwLfkj
Kobo: https://bit.ly/1PRPBkP

An Excerpt:
The Burnt Boot Bar and Grill was not exactly what Rhett expected. The parking lot was gravel, or at least it had been at one time. Now it was thinly distributed gravel on top of dirt with only one streetlamp to illuminate the whole place. The building was weathered wood that didn’t look as if it had ever seen a drop of paint applied. Hell, it might have even been petrified, as old as that sign swinging above the entrance. The roof was rusty sheet metal, and the only window in the place was the one in the door.
“Not what you thought it would be?” Sawyer asked when Rhett got out of his truck.
“Looks more like a barn than a bar,” he said.
“The inside is better—air-conditioning, jukebox, and even paint on the walls.” Jill laughed.
“I like the air-conditioned part best of all.” Rhett followed them inside.
The bar itself was only eight stools long and had a small area for grilling burgers and making fries behind it. There were no pool tables, which surprised Rhett. But not as much as the shelves holding loaves of bread, hot dog and hamburger buns, and a small assortment of prepackaged pastries, or the refrigerated section beside that, with milk, beer, wine, and soda pop behind sliding glass doors. The other end of the long, rectangular room sported a jukebox, a few mismatched tables with chairs around them, and a small area for dancing.
“After the store closes in the evening, folks can get milk and bread or beer in here,” Sawyer answered the unasked question.
“And I thought Comfort was a small town. I’m not sure this qualifies as a town.” Rhett chuckled.
Sawyer clamped a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, you know what Grandpa says. To be a town, the place has to have a church and a place to buy beer or get a shot of whiskey. So by the O’Donnell qualifications, Burnt Boot passes the test.”
At nine o’clock, he’d filled a few pitchers of beer for folks who’d drifted in and out, and Sawyer had shown him the process of making burger baskets. Sparks danced around Jill and Sawyer every time they brushed against each other. It damn sure didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that their honeymoon wasn’t over.
Two lonesome, old cowboys sat in a back corner drinking beer and telling tall tales. The jukebox had gone quiet and Rhett had wiped down the bar so often that it was shiny clean. If every night was like that, he’d have to bring some rope to make a bridle or something to keep himself from dying of complete boredom.
“Why don’t y’all go on home? I can handle it for the next couple of hours,” Rhett said.
“If you’re sure, we won’t argue.” Jill removed her apron and hung it on a nail.
Sawyer didn’t waste a bit of time hanging his apron right beside hers. “We damn sure won’t. Can’t remember the last time we got to go home before midnight. Sweep up and put the chairs on the tables. We don’t do mopping unless there’s major spills. Here’s the keys. Be sure to turn off the grill and the lights.”
“Will do.” Rhett rolled the sleeves of his white T-shirt and wiped down the bar one more time.
Jill and Sawyer were gone less than five minutes when the door flew open and suddenly the bar was crowded to capacity. Someone plugged money into the jukebox, and in seconds it was going full blast, playing “Boys ’Round Here” by Blake Shelton. Folks wasted no time getting out onto the dance floor and making a long line to do a line dance. The noise level went from zero to one hundred so quick that it took a while for Rhett’s ears to adjust.
“Hey, Rhett, we need three pitchers of beer and about six red cups,” Kinsey yelled from the end of the bar.
He quickly filled the pitchers, set them on the bar, and stacked up six plastic cups. Kinsey handed him a bill and he made change.
“And when you finish that, I need two longneck bottles of Coors,” Betsy said from the other end of the bar.
It kept him hopping, keeping the beer orders filled, the money straight, and making a few pitchers of margaritas. Then there was a lull, and there she was, sitting on a bar stool, her light green eyes watching him. His heart threw in an extra beat and his chest tightened.
“Well, hello, did you just fall from heaven?” he asked.
“I’ll have a double shot of Jack on the rocks, so the answer is no. I don’t think angels drink whiskey, but it is a fine line,” she answered.
“So you are a Tennessee whiskey lady?” he asked.
“Tonight I am,” she said.

Carolyn-Brown-Flow-Chart

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Rafflecoptor  giveaway for one bundle of the complete Burnt Boot, Texas series. The giveaway will run from 2/22 – 3/20.

 

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by | January 25, 2016 · 5:00 am

SNEAK PEAK & EXCERPT -BOILING POINT BY TESSA BAILEY

Get ready for Boiling Point! The next installment in Tessa Bailey’s thrilling Crossing the Line series.  We hope you love the cover as much as we do!
 
Release date: January 26, 2016
 
About Boiling Point:
Falling for a con man is the most dangerous game of all…
Con artist Austin Shaw’s been in disguise so long he’s not sure
where his fake identities end and he begins. Now that he’s been strong-armed
into working for a specialized undercover unit working with the Chicago
police—criminals with unique “skills”—the last thing he needs is to risk his
iron control. Especially when it comes to a certain stunningly sexy hacker who
tempts him with every look of disdain.
Polly Banks will never, ever trust a con man. On the trail of a
ruthless crook who destroyed the only family she’s ever known, Polly is
unnerved by the shadow who follows her every move. The one who makes her pulse
pound and breath short with lust. Austin. He’s infuriating, enigmatic, and
pure sex appeal, and she’s determined to resist him.

But an untrustworthy man of disguise can become anyone he
wants…including a man that Polly must trust if she’s to escape their
dangerous game alive.
Amazon | B&N

Exclusive Excerpt from BOILING POINT:

 

“All yours. You’ve been its cruel keeper for months.” He tilted his hips, presenting himself to her in a way that should have been crude, but on Austin, it was all animal grace. “At any time at all, you could have demanded me. Sent me to my knees to lick you off with one word. Grabbed my cock through my pants in front of everyone and told them who it belonged to.” His eyelids drooped as if the scenario was an aphrodisiac. “Please yourself with me, Polly. My body. My cock. Own it all.”

“I will,” she whispered, shaken by his speech. Emboldened by it. Holding his gaze she lifted the belt to his arousal and looped the leather around its ruddy base. A broken curse fell from his mouth, the muscles of his abdomen jerking. His big hands flew up, as if to grip her shoulders for balance, but they fisted and dropped back to his sides, where she told him with her inaction they must remain. Careful to keep the buckle from touching him, Polly tugged the leather to her right, watching the belt slither around his erection in a circular caress.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He swayed on his knees. “More. More.”

Polly leaned close and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, pulling away when he tried to capture her mouth in a kiss. “Only if it pleases me.”

“Yes.” His nod was disjointed, breathing uneven. “Only if it pleases you.”

“It does.” Faster than the first time, Polly pulled the belt left, whimpering at the sight of his aching flesh being squeezed between the leather strip, the precum that beaded at his tip. She repeated the action twice more, faster and with more surrounding pressure on his length each time. “How does it feel?

“Like nothing else,” Austin groaned, neck muscles straining. “There’s nothing else.”

His declaration made her want to prove him wrong. Or maybe she needed a distraction to avoid feeling humbled. With the decision to stop thinking and experience, Polly grasped Austin’s hand and dragged it up her skirt, between her thighs where his palm conformed to her shape without hesitation, ripping a moan from her throat. “Th-there is something else.”

Austin’s gaze turned intent, fixated on her face. “You need to fuck now, sweet?” There was nothing casual about his perusal of her body. It was predatory filth and it set Polly ablaze. His middle finger pushed at her entrance, through the barrier of her underwear. “Ah God, just set me loose with a yes. I will split the fucking headboard down the middle from bucking into this pussy.”

 

Tessa_Bailey

About Tessa Bailey:

Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.

Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.

She now lives in Brooklyn, New York with her husband of seven years and three-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.

Website | Twitter | Facebook

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by | November 28, 2015 · 9:49 am

Linda Broday’s Forever His Texas Bride Spotlight

9781492602873Title: Forever His Texas Bride
Author: Linda Broday
Series: Bachelors of Battle Creek, #3
Pubdate: December 1st, 2015
ISBN: 9781492602873

“There’s this thing between us that refuses to die. I’d like nothing better than to be able to…” His words faded. He’d give anything to change people’s views about his race…to be able to make her his wife.
But the world wasn’t that simple. Not for people like them.

All his life, Brett Liberty has straddled two worlds: white and Iroquois. The only place he’s truly at peace is with his wild mustangs. But after he’s arrested for the color of his skin, he discovers Rayna Harper in the cell next to him. Rough and tumble Rayna has known little kindness, but Brett sees the depth of her heart hidden beneath layers of hurt and fear, and he refuses to leave without her.

Fierce and loyal, kind and strong, Rayna is everything Brett has ever wanted. But the world doesn’t look kindly on a love like theirs, and he would rather let her go than bring her pain. Yet when the demons of his past threaten her future, Brett realizes he will do anything to keep Rayna safe…and make her his.

At a young age, Linda Broday discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. Cowboys fascinate her. There’s something about Stetsons, boots, and tall rugged cowboys that get her fired up! A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award and the Texas Gold Award. She now resides in the panhandle of Texas on the Llano Estacado.

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/1j6eJXo
Apple: https://apple.co/1H7jTOz
BAM: https://bit.ly/1SWybD3
B&N: https://bit.ly/1X5B6cV
Chapters: https://bit.ly/1SB4JS9
Indiebound: https://bit.ly/1O0dxSg
Kobo: https://bit.ly/1N9GP2c

Forever-His-Texas-Bride---Release-Graphic
Linda Broday’s latest is coming out this December! The final title in the Bachelor of Battle Creek trilogy, Forever His Texas Bride is sure to sweep readers off of their feet. To celebrate her new release, we’ve asked Linda to answer a “Quick Draw” either/or question and to share an excerpt with us!

Dresses or skirts? I like dresses because they make me feel a lot more feminine and you can dress them up or down, depending on the occasion. Add a pair of heels and you’ll turn men’s heads in nothing flat.

An Excerpt:

Rayna sat up, pushed back her cloud of russet hair, and got up from the bunk in Brett’s jail cell. It was then he saw that she wore a heavy pair of men’s brogans. What on earth! The shoes looked as though they might’ve come off a very poor dead man.
Her dirty dress had been mended so many times it looked like a patchwork quilt with none of the squares matching. But she seemed so spirited, so brave.
If society had ever allowed him to take a wife, he’d want someone like her. He hated to think he’d have spent all his life never knowing what it could be like to be happy like his brothers now were. While he waited to die, maybe they could pretend.
Maybe he could know what it was like to be loved.
Until they led him through those doors to a hangman, maybe he could have the bride prejudice had denied him. The bold notion made ripples dance under his skin.
Brett raised to a sitting position, ignoring the pain shooting through his back. “This may sound crazy, but I’m going to ask anyway. Rayna, do you think you could pretend to be my wife? Just until they take me away? No one will ever know but us, so they can’t hurt you.”
Turning, she dropped down beside him. Surprised tears bubbled in her eyes. “No one ever asked me to marry them before.”
“Is that a no?”
“I’d be honored to be your pretend wife,” she whispered, brushing his face with her fingers. “What do we do now?”
“Do you mind if I kiss you?”
“I’d like that…husband.”
Under her bright gaze, he lowered his head. But before their lips touched, the sound of a key grating in the lock made him jerk back. “Quick, go to your cell before they catch you with me.”
Rayna scurried into hers and quietly eased the door shut.
Just then a deputy sauntered in, taking care to keep his distance from Brett’s cell. “You alive, breed?”
Brett glared. “Disappointed?”
The deputy—a squat man who reminded Brett of a possum with little weasel eyes, grunted, shifting his gaze to Rayna. “Give any thought to my offer, woman?”
No one had to spell out what the deputy meant. Brett sought to tamp down his rising anger. He watched Rayna tilt her head at a defiant angle.
“The answer is the same as all the other times.”
The weasel shrugged and went back out. The minute the door locked shut, Rayna slowly walked into Brett’s cell and sat down beside him again. “I wish I could see the sky and smell the fresh air.”
“How long have you been in here?”
“Over a month, I think. With each sunrise I’ve been making a mark on the wall. The one today makes thirty-one. But no matter how much I want out, I’m not doing what that deputy wants,” she whispered. “I’ll never be a fine lady, but even I have my dignity. No one will ever take that.”
Though still hesitant, Brett took her small, dainty hand. Her skin shone white against his. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone who wasn’t family, but his pretend wife was different somehow. “Always stand on your principles. In the end, we still have to live with ourselves, look at our face in the mirror.”

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by | October 30, 2015 · 5:00 am

Rock Me Two Times Spotlight

Rock Me Two Times cover

Title: Rock Me Two Times
Author: Dawn Ryder
Series: Rock Band, Book 1
ISBN: 9781492616764
Pubdate: November 3, 2015
Genre: Erotic Romance
Imprint: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Summary

First in Dawn Ryder’s sizzling new Rock Band series.

Rock star Syon Braden writes and plays the most extreme—and profitable—music from the depths of his shredded heart. He’s got a double platinum record, adoring fans, and success for his band Toxsin—but it’s what he can’t have that he craves. Custom leather designer Kate Napier has her sights set on success, and that means keeping irresistible rock stars like Syon out of her bed. The chance to tour with the band and provide them with a fantastic custom wardrobe is too major an opportunity to turn down. But immersion in the dark, wild world of Toxsin on tour means Kate’s about to get rocked…hard…body and soul.
Dawn Ryder photo

Author Bio

Dawn Ryder is the erotic romance pen name of a bestselling author of historical romances. She has been publishing her stories for over eight years to a growing and appreciative audience. She is commercially published in mass market and trade paper, and digi-first published with trade paper releases. She is hugely committed to her career as an author, as well as to other authors and to her readership. She resides in Southern California.

Social Networking Links

Website: https://www.dawnryder.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Mary-Wine-133965836120
Twitter: https://twitter.com/dawnryder_write
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/853496.Dawn_Ryder

Buy Links

Amazon: https://amzn.to/1Rd2svU
Barnes and Noble: https://bit.ly/1LcifcM
Indie Bound: https://bit.ly/1LmFIWE
Apple: https://apple.co/1LmFKh5

Rock Me Two Times graphic

Sexiest Rock Stars (And What Makes Them So Hot!) with Dawn Ryder

Rock Stars…some are just lick-able….

Let’s face it, there is something about a man in leather, who can bring a stadium to its feet. I know there are all sorts of different music out there but heavy metal in all its formats has a certain, gut-wrenching appeal that just gets girls wanting to squeal. So here’s one of my favorites:

David Bowie – Okay, I’m an 80’s child and there was this little movie called “Labyrinth.” Now I don’t care if you hated the Muffat/D&D/Princess Bride concoction that was this movie, there was one thing that made it worth your attention…David Bowie in Regency garb. And when he opened his mouth and those deep vocals came out with a rhythm that had you squirming in your seat…well, he made my top three male singer list for sure. Besides, his Goblin King makeup was amazing and I actually based a lot of Syon, the hero of Rock Me Two Times, on this character.

There are so many types of passion, and music is one that the world stops and listens to. If I’m lucky, someday, one of my books will captivate a reader just as completely as some of the great songs out there that everyone knows.

Dawn Ryder
DawnRyder.com

Excerpt

The Staples Center was roaring.
It sounded like a tsunami coming in, or a freight train passing three feet in front of her face. It was more than sound; there was a vibration that traveled through her body, all the way down to her bones. There was a current in the air that practically crackled with excitement.
The bodyguard-slash-security guy showed Kate up to a private box. She followed because she didn’t want to squeal like a little girl and ask to be taken home.
She’d never lost her head like this before.
It was embarrassing on an epic scale. She was pissed at herself for rolling over so easily for a man who wouldn’t recall her name by the end of the night.
The box had plush seats and an open rail overlooking the stage. The lights went down, and the drummer started up. The beat was infectious, taking over her heart until she was sure the muscle was keeping the same rhythm.
The crowd roared again, thrusting their hands up into the air as two guitars joined the drummer. Her nipples puckered again, her memory offering up an image of Syon arching back as he played those final chords. It was like he was pushing the music out of himself, almost as if he were giving birth.
On stage, he was just as raw.
Syon took command of the space completely. The audience ate him up.
And were they screaming. Syon worked them just as skillfully as he did his guitar. He really was lord of all he surveyed. Kate discovered herself leaning forward, being drawn toward the spellbinding energy pulsing on the stage. Sitting still was impossible; her body wanted to move in time with the notes Syon was wringing out of his instrument. She became fixated on his hands; the way he worked his fingers was downright dominant.
Her teeth were clenched by the time the last song finished, she was panting softly and felt wrung out.
But it was fucking wonderful. She was drifting on a high and collapsed back into her padded chair, her composure scattered around her like fall leaves. She felt spent but amped up at the same time.
Fangirls were definitely climbing the respect ladder in her book.
Okay, so she was drooling over a rock star like some high schooler, but at least B.O.B.—her battery-operated boyfriend —was waiting for her at home. All in all, the buzz was worth the slightly stinging blow to her pride, because in some corner of her mind, she believed she should be grown-up enough to realize fantasies weren’t mature. So disappointment wouldn’t stalk her in the wee hours of the night.
A hollow feeling in her gut warned her she was hoping in vain.
As Syon and the rest of the band left the stage, Kate indulged herself in a long moment of reflection. Syon had worked that guitar until it wailed. He had to be hell in bed if he applied even half that effort to pleasing his partner.
“So, what’d you think?”
She jumped, grabbing the armrests of the movie theater-style chair. Her eyes popped open wide, and her belly did a triple flip when she found Syon watching her.
“Ah…” Her tongue suddenly felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth as she scrambled to stand up and turn around to face him. “It was fantastic…”
He grinned at her, a huge, arrogantly pleased expression that showed off his perfect teeth.
God, she wondered if he knew how to bite…

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