Saturday, April 23, 2016

~~~RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY~~~ LIVE BY THE TEAM by Cindy Skaggs



Title: Live By The Team
Series: Team Fear Series #1
By: Cindy Skaggs
Publication Date: April 23, 2016
Genre: Romantic Suspense



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They created a monster. Trained by the army, enhanced by medical experimentation, and tested in war. What happens to the creature when the war ends and the man awakens?

SSgt. Ryder was born, bred, and enhanced as a warrior, but when he returns home to his new wife—exiled from the army along with the rest of his disgraced team—he faces mounting anger and paranoia. When a fellow soldier does the unthinkable, Ryder disappears to protect his wife, but his departure leaves a vacuum filled with danger. Can he save her or will he lose himself to the beast and destroy what matters most?

Abandoned most of her life, Lauren Ryder married thinking she had finally found stability, until her new husband disappeared. He returns altered and secretive. Can she forgive him for crushing her dreams of picket fences and happily ever after? Will she survive what he has become?


The surviving members of Team Fear are out of the military and in a world of secrets, lies, and cover-ups in this new romantic suspense series by Cindy Skaggs.


Amazon UK - http://goo.gl/GL5dXy
Amazon CA - http://goo.gl/ThMmP4

Amazon UK - http://goo.gl/s9E3Wo
Amazon CA - http://goo.gl/8XhCJZ


A free excerpt...

Live by the Team
A Team Fear Novel

CINDY SKAGGS


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Cindy Skaggs. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author: Cindy@CSkaggs.com
Edited by Jessa Slade
Cover design by L.J. Anderson

First Edition April 2016
  

ISBN: 1532795742
ISBN-13: 978-1532795749


Prologue


Six months ago

Ryder shifted through the crowd gathering behind the police barricade. A local news crew panned the scene from a vantage point to his left. In front of him, a young blonde lifted a wide-eyed toddler to her hip, giving the kid a better view. Gunshots fired had turned into a three-ring circus complete with spectators and media crews.
Crime scene tape snapped under his fingers before he made the conscious choice to proceed. A uniform cop moved to intercept him, but Ryder stopped him with a glare. Menace was an art form he’d studied for twelve years in the Army. He knew how to intimidate without a word, without a weapon. Could kill as easily.
No one stood between Ryder and his men. Ryder dialed back the tension bunching his shoulders. He scanned the scene, gauging overall mood and readiness. Time didn’t allow for more than superficial recon.
A row of patrol cars created a barricade behind which officers lined up, guns drawn. They faced a nondescript ranch house on five acres of hard dirt. A pickup truck was parked under a stand of trees, the only shade for a good ten miles. The shade didn’t help much; it was Texas summer hot.
Nervous energy spread like gossip through the officers on this side of the scene. They were getting trigger-happy the longer the standoff lasted. Jittery men did stupid things.
Ryder walked through the line of patrol cars. No one noticed until he placed his body between the police and the scene of the crime. A last line of defense for the soldier in the barricaded house.
Expletives exploded behind the cop cars. Ryder let loose a sarcastic grin and turned; sure he had their attention now. He lifted his hands so they didn’t feel compelled to shoot him. The energy in the open field shifted from unease to outright distrust. Sweaty grips tightened on guns. Every eye in the area focused on Ryder and judged him a million kinds of fool.
Ryder met their uncertainty with cool resolve. Today’s mission involved getting PFC Madigan out alive, which put Ryder in the hot seat. Times like this, he missed the adrenaline rush: the increased heart rate, the quicker thinking, and increased energy that presaged a good fight.
“Sir, step back,” a male voice spoke into a bullhorn.
Ryder shook his head no. He raised his voice for the camera and the crowd. He didn’t need a bullhorn. “I served with the man inside the house. You want this to end peacefully?” He nodded at the camera. “Let me go in and talk to him.”
More expletives before a tall, slender man wearing a ballistics vest stepped to the west end of the barricaded cars. Tall like a Jolly Green, the man’s shadow stretched across the desert, the setting sun casting him in silhouette. Any half-trained soldier coming off a three-day bender could take him out. The soldier trapped in the house qualified as exceptionally trained. Ryder had done the training.
Ryder held his position, protecting both sides from bloodshed. “Sheriff,” he guessed, rightly so when the man nodded. “I was on the phone with your suspect when you arrived on scene. We’ve established rapport. Let me go in before the situation escalates.”
It wasn’t a question. Ryder didn’t back down. Another news van pulled up in a billow of dust. The crew jumped out, filming on the fly.
A sidebar conversation happened behind the cars while the cameras whirred. Even at sunset, the temps were in the triple digits. The heat factor fueled tempers. Voices raised and lowered with curses and outrage.
Standing between the police and their suspect, Ryder didn’t break a sweat. He absorbed the heat, used it to fuel his system. Guns from both sides pointed at him. The police maintained their vigil, while inside, Madigan would do the same, his sole focus on the troops massing in his front yard. “Mad Dog” Madigan was a weapons specialist. He would have the scene covered.
While the sheriff and his men deliberated, Ryder’s backup moved into position through the rear of the house.
The phone in his back pocket buzzed with an incoming call. He reached and guns lifted to the top of the cars. His hands stayed steady as he pulled the phone out, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. The voice on the other end reached his ears before the phone did.
“Please tell me these reports aren’t live.” The Texas drawl didn’t calm the panic in her voice. He could picture her pretty face, brows raised in frustration. Her hands fluttering as she spoke.
“They’re live.” Regret closed his eyes for a barely perceptible moment. Lauren. He’d told her he had to go help an Army buddy. “This is me helping a friend.”
“With guns pointed at you?”
“Sometimes, that’s what it takes, baby. I gotta go.”
“Ryder—”
He clicked off and dialed Madigan. The call connected without a word spoken. The soldier’s breathing pattern was high and erratic, which concerned Ryder more than the police standoff. Every damn thing about this situation felt wrong. None of this shit was the way they were trained. Hell, Ryder would have sworn emotion had been beaten out of them until he heard the sob on the other end of the line.
“This is bad, Ryder.”
“No shit.” He kept his tone low and measured, aware of the audience.
“Do you think—”
“I’m coming in whether they let me or not. Keep it holstered.” He pocketed the phone and looked across the yard to the sheriff. The other man’s gaze hid in twilight shadows, but his stance read more relaxed than the rest of his men. “Sheriff, I have him on the phone. This is your one chance to end this standoff without bloodshed.”
“How do I know you’re not taking another weapon inside?”
The smirk came natural to Ryder. Who was the sheriff kidding? Madigan stockpiled enough weaponry to start a civil war. The cache of weapons was what kept the sheriff’s men hunkered down instead of going inside. Ryder lifted his shirt and turned slowly, he even smiled for the cameras as he proved he wasn’t armed or dangerous. Well, the dangerous part was open for interpretation. “I’m not losing another soldier, Sheriff. That’s a promise I made my men when we came back.”
There wasn’t a soldier alive who didn’t know the odds. Twenty-two suicides a day. Not today. The words were a prayer. Too bad Ryder had nothing left to believe in or pray to. Sometimes you had to handle shit on your own.
“You can shoot me in the back for the cameras if you want, but I’m going in.”
He didn’t wait for a response. The dirt shifted under his boots as he spun and headed to the front porch. Ants circled a discarded pizza box on the welcome mat. The stench of rancid cheese hit him as he grabbed the doorknob, which turned easily in his hand. Ryder pushed into the house. Gloom shrouded the entryway.
“Close the door.” The voice came from the black void several feet to the right. “Lock it.”
“Not my first rodeo,” he said, but moved to comply. “You hung up on me earlier today, Mad Dog. We didn’t finish our conversation.”
They followed a strict protocol. No matter where a soldier lived, if he called, someone came running. No questions. They weren’t going to be part of some fucked-up statistic. Ryder was geographically closest to Madigan, so he dropped everything, kissed his new wife, and hit the highway. Rose had moved in from the north, and they’d arrived about the same time.
“I shouldn’t have called. Shouldn’t have involved you. I woke up—” Another hiccup from a hardened warrior. What the ever-loving hell?
“Nightmare?” They happened, and when they did, they felt real. Sounded real.
“I called before I had time to pull my head out.” Madigan’s tone calmed. “Before I could pin down what was real, a shitload of cop cars came barreling down the drive. How the fuck did they know to show up?”
“Good question.” Ryder kept his tone slow and easy as he catalogued the surroundings, waiting for his backup to come at Madigan from behind. Ryder was the distraction. They weren’t losing another soldier.
“You did the right thing, calling me. That’s the deal. Live by the team.” They might be out of the Army, might be disillusioned and disgraced, but they were still a fucking team.
“I lost time today, Ry.”
Could they still be having side effects after all these months? “How much time?”
“Hours.” The anguish in Madigan’s voice turned the dark hall into a black hole. “I’m afraid to turn on the light. Find out what’s real.”
“The hell you are.” No fear wasn’t just a motto. “Pack that shit up. Concentrate on the situation. Where are Maggie and the baby?”
“They’re my life. You know that?”
“I do. So let’s end this so you can get back to living.”
Sniffling sounded from a corner and Ryder was closer to triangulating Madigan’s position. He could take him in the murky light, but Madigan’s eyes were already acclimated to the black void. He’d have the upper hand. Darkness was Ryder’s friend, helped him focus, but today, night vision didn’t give him the advantage. Ryder reached to the wall and patted until he hit a switch. He flipped the light.
“Fuck.” Madigan shielded his eyes with one hand while the other aimed a gun at Ryder.
Where the hell was Ryder’s backup? Rose was supposed to take Madigan from behind, but Mad Dog’s back was now against a wall. Madigan backed himself into a corner looking every bit like his call sign: Mad Dog. A halo of red hair capped a tall, lean body smeared with war paint. The wild expression on his face surpassed insane. Blood covered Madigan’s hands and bare chest as if he’d painted himself in some twisted ritual. His eyes were dilated.
“You on drugs?” Maybe drugs explained the panic that shouldn’t be there. And the lost time.
“No.” Madigan scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “At least I don’t think so.”
“What does that mean, Mad Dog? You know better than to experiment with that shit.” With everything they had had pumped into their systems, even alcohol was a gamble.
“I didn’t, not on purpose, Ryder, I swear, but I woke up with the worst fucking headache. Disoriented.”
They’d all experienced those symptoms at least once. Shit. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I went into town to get pizza. Maggie didn’t feel good and the baby was fussy. I thought—” He pounded his forehead with the hand holding the gun. “Why the fuck can’t I remember?”
“What time was that?”
“Lunch.”
Hours ago. “Your truck’s out front. Do you remember pulling into the drive?”
“Yeah.” He pounded the back of his skull into the wall. “Maggie screamed. That’s what I remember. She screamed. I bolted. God, I can’t believe— I wouldn’t, but I had to, it’s only me in the house. And I’m covered in it.” His voice rose. “They’re my life.”
“Calm down.” Something was seriously fucking wrong, because the soldier stank with fear. Ryder took two measured steps closer.
“Stay back.” Madigan lifted a handgun and aimed at center mass. “Don’t take another step.”
Ryder paused. “I’m not afraid of dying.”
“Neither am I.”
Wasn’t that the problem?
Keep him talking. “Did Maggie leave you?”
“I wish.” Panic lifted his voice. “Not the way you mean. I don’t remember, but it had to be me.” An unfocused haze covered his eyes in a thin white film. “I’m the only one here, and there’s so much fucking blood.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Two steps closer. “Sitrep,” he barked, demanding a situation report from the soldier.
The order snapped Madigan’s shoulders to attention. “They’re dead.” He twisted his bloody hand in front of his hazy eyes as if the five fingers held the answers. “They’re my life.”
Seconds later, something in his eyes went hard. Determination replaced the haze, causing a shift in the soldier’s stance. All the training and the mood-altering modifications clicked into place until Mad Dog metamorphosed into a warrior.
Madigan knew how to kill and he’d finally settled on a target.
“No,” Ryder ordered.
“The pain ends. Right now.” Madigan turned the gun to his head. “No fear.”
Ryder launched across the space, but he wasn’t faster than a speeding bullet. Blood spatter hit him before exposing the ruined skull of a man Ryder considered a brother. Mad Dog was a soldier, a protector, and a killer. Where did one start and the others begin?
Rose barreled down the stairs at the sound of gunfire. “What the fuck?” He took in the sight of the fallen soldier. They’d seen death. They’d lost teammates, but they’d never lost one like this. Train a man to kill, take away the fear, and suicide was too damned easy.
“Wife and kid are dead,” Rose confirmed. “Bloody fucking sacrifice. Just like Kandahar.”
One of the special teams had turned sadistic in Kandahar and taken out a local village. Bad press didn’t begin to cover the fallout. The organization reacted swiftly, shutting down the program and denying any and all knowledge. Contracts were severed. Their service records heavily redacted. Overnight, the entire team was out. Out of the military, out of the war, out of the only life they knew. Team Fear took the fall.
Nothing about Mad Dog’s situation could leak. Fallout from a failed government program on U.S. soil would be catastrophic. If the company investigated, retribution would be swift and fatal.
“Shit, Ry—”
“I know. Get out,” he ordered. The cops didn’t need to know Rose had been in the house. “Rendezvous at zero three hundred hours. If I’m not there, you go underground.”
Rose vanished up the stairs. Outside, some idiot on a bullhorn issued threats he couldn’t hear inside the macabre house of hell.
Ryder leaned against the wall, and then slid down as the world shifted under his feet. Was this what it meant to be fearless?


Discover more of Cindy’s fast-paced romantic suspense:

She’ll do whatever it takes to find her son - Lie. Cheat. Steal. Seduce... As the former wife of an infamous crime boss, Sofia Capri is untouchable. She exists outside of the law...and outside of the criminal world. When her son is kidnapped, Sofia is desperate to find him. She’ll do anything. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Anything but trust. But it’s a strikingly handsome FBI agent who’s her only chance to get her baby back... Something about Sofia’s fiery beauty must be hitting all of his weak spots, because suddenly Mr. Law And Order Logan Stone finds himself bending the rules. When they’re implicated in the kidnapping, Logan and Sofia discover a horrifying reality—they have less than 72 hours to find the boy and clear their names.


Cindy Skaggs grew up on stories of mob bosses, horse thieves, cold-blooded killers, and the last honest man. Those mostly true stories gave her a lifelong love of storytelling and heroes. Her search for story took her around the world with the Air Force before returning to Colorado.

As a single mom, she’s turning her lifelong love of storytelling into the one thing she can’t live without: writing. She has an MA in Creative Writing, three jobs, two kids, and more pets than she can possibly handle. Find her on Facebook as Cindy Skaggs, Writer, @CLSkaggs on Twitter, or www.CSkaggs.com to sign up for her newsletter.

Social Media Links
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/CSkaggs
Twitter: @CLSkaggs
Website: http://www.cskaggs.com
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Thursday, April 21, 2016

THIRST by L.L. Hunter







Title: Thirst: A Dragon Heart Novel, Book 4


Author: L.L. Hunter 


Genre: YA paranormal fantasy/ urban fantasy




Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR









Blurb:


Ash and Eva have been reunited.


Henry has found his brother.


Happily ever after.


The end. Right?


Wrong.


They may be together, but all is not what it seems.


They soon discover everyone has their own goals.


Some want freedom. Some want blood. And most want answers.




Who will lose their life in the thirst for power?




Alliances will be forged, battles will be fought, and lines will be drawn.




In the thrilling conclusion to the Dragon Heart series, will Eva and Ash finally have their happily ever after?




Crave Power. Crave Blood. Crave Freedom.




























Title: Burn: Hidden Magic Series, Book One


Author: L.L. Hunter 




Genre: YA paranormal fantasy/ urban fantasy









Blurb:

Emmaline was once the most beautiful princess in all the lands.


She was also the most powerful.


You see, she was from a long line of powerful Dragon Shifters, and the magic in her blood was pure and strong.


Everyone wanted it.


This is the story of the girl with the fire in her eyes - —the first and the last.




Eva’s ancestor, Emmaline, was once the most powerful being in existence.


She was one to be feared.


But when she fell in love with a vampire, she knew she had to make a decision: surrender her power or let it consume her.




After all, her father warned her of Darcy.


She only found out too late.




In the exciting new spin- off to the Dragon Heart series,


Discover why some loves are never meant to be.






When you play with fire, you are bound to burn































L.L. Hunter is the author of over 20 published works, including The Legend of the Archangel Series and The Garden of Eden. She has studied everything from veterinary nursing, forensic science, and dramatic arts, but has always known her true calling was to be an author. 

She has been writing since her teens - everything from fan fiction, to song lyrics, to plays and musicals. When not working on her next paranormal romance, she can be found at home in Australia, reading somewhere comfortable with one or both of her “fur babies.” Follow her on Facebook, Twitter @llhunterbooks, and her blog - http://llhunter.blogspot.com.au.




Stalk links





Buy Links:

*Thirst*

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1U0KnFI








  




























~~RELEASE BLITZ~~ TITANIUM A Novel by Zeia Jameson

Title: Titanium: A Novel
Author: Zeia Jameson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 19, 2016

I was once told I was unbreakable and I believed it.
But when everything I held dear was lost, I had no choice but to shatter.

Every day, Kat laces up her gloves and fights away her demons.
When fighting doesn't subside the pain, scotch and promiscuity beckon.
Her life has no purpose.
She has no viable future.
And she wishes she'd never met Kevin Fitzpatrick.

He annoys her profusely.
He asks too many questions.
He follows her like a stalker.

But, strangely, she can't seem to tear herself away from him.
There is something about him she can't shake.

Kat has secrets, but so do the people who claim to have her best interests at heart.
When all is revealed and the dust settles, will Kat be knocked down for the count, once and for all?
Or can the pieces of her broken past help her become indestructible once again?
 


“...a refreshing read in a sea of broken, jerky alpha males and simpering heroines.” - Author Josie Kerr
“WOW.... This book was absolutely amazing.” - A Beautiful Book Blog
“This story is proof that authors put their hearts into their books and give everything to us as readers.” - Goodreads Review
“Why are you here?” I ask as I sniffle.

“Have you been crying?” Kevin replies, setting the bowl down onto the coffee table.

Placing the backside of my hand under my nose, I lie. “It’s just a cold.” I reach for a box of tissues nearby.

“I don’t believe you.”

I turn back to him, raise my arm, and point toward the door. “You can leave,” I demand.

“Kat, please. Don’t shut me out. I thought…I thought we were in a good place with each other.”

I shake my head. “Don’t act like you want to be close to me. You and Jo are only using me as some sort of humanity project.”

“It’s not like that at all. We want to help you heal,” Kevin implores.

“I have Robitussin. I’ll be fine.”

“No, that’s not what I mean and you know it. We want to help you heal from what’s made you so bitter about life.”

“Why do you care?” I asked, agitated by his efforts.

“Because I do.”

I sit on the sofa with a huff. “I’m fine.”

“Kat, look at me. You are not fine. Just tell me why and I’ll listen.”

“I don’t need a protector.”

“That’s apparent from the ninja skills you performed the other night.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter either. I am a grown up.”

Kevin sits beside me, a little closer than I’m comfortable with. “I don’t want to protect you. I don’t want to babysit you. I want to be your friend. Maybe, more than a friend.”

My eyes go wide. I have no response.

“I care about you and I don’t care if you want me to or not. I do and it’s out of my control. And I don’t care whether you believe that I care about you. I’m not trying to use you. Neither is Jo. We’re not going to give up on you–” he points a finger to his chest, “I’m not going to give up on you.”

I take in his words but quickly reject them. “Sometimes, giving up is not your choice to make,” I say, sternly, trying desperately hard not to cry.

“Whose choice is it then?” Kevin asks.

I look at him. “Whoever controls fate.”
 

Zeia Jameson's passion for writing compels her to get into the zone and type until her fingers go numb. When not submerged within her own stories, she enjoys curling up in her large reading chair, snuggling underneath a blanket, and feeding her addictions of coffee and reading. She is fond of humor and laughter and believes these are elements that keep the world sane and spinning.

Zeia lives in Georgia with her husband and daughter, where they spend most of their time exploring recipes, binging on Netflix, drawing chalk-art on sidewalks, and avoiding pollen at all costs.




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