Wednesday, September 30, 2015

"Get Real" by Tellulah Darling

Get Real
(Get Real Book 1)
by Tellulah Darling

Get Real, the first book in the Get Real series by Tellulah Darling, has just been released and is ON SALE for only $0.99 for a limited time. This book blitz and giveaway is brought to you by Xpresso Book Tours.

For another book by this author, please check out my blog post on My Life from Hell.

Magic and Mayhem in Manhattan
Francesca Bellafiore comes from a nice Jewish family - one that happens to have magical powers. Underneath her good-girl exterior, though, she’s a wannabe badass with dreams of becoming a paranormal detective.
Party boy Rafael Muñoz does everything possible to publicly disappoint his high profile father. Privately, it’s a different story. His carefully crafted bad boy reputation masks the fact he’s a master illusionist, forced into solo covert ops. The role is wearing thin and Rafael longs to be part of a team.
When Francesca and Rafael meet, it’s love at first sight ... For about five minutes. Rafael is spectacularly attractive - and, Francesca discovers, fully aware of the fact. Rafael knows from experience that girls like Francesca are more trouble than they’re worth.
So it sucks big time when they’re caught in a web of magic, minions, secrets, and enough sexual tension to power NYC. Their only chance to save the city and survive is to team up, trust each other–and maybe even fall in love.
Provided they don’t kill each other first.
Get Real is a romantic comedy, urban fantasy whirlwind with sass, sex, and swoon.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, jiggling the loose change and wanting some kind of confrontation. I stepped outside. That girl with Byron who’d been staring and laughing earlier was candidate numero uno. Want to diss me? Do it to my face, chica.
I found her healing a gash on some guy’s cheek, holding a vase in her free hand while berating him for his choice in headwear. “Va bene. Go,” she ordered.
He slunk away with a sheepish look and I stepped up, my shadow falling over her.
“If you need medical services it better not be alcohol poisoning because I will not let you enjoy it.” She turned. Her fingers tightened on the rim of the vase at the sight of me.
“Hi,” I said.
She raised her chin, regarding me levelly with these amazing dark brown eyes. “It’s you.” Her sexy Italian accent hooked into me.
She fumbled the vase. We both grabbed the same edge before it could hit the ground, my hand landing on hers. Her skin was cool and smooth. The rest of her was twitchy and flustered. It cheered me up in a petty way. “Rafael. Call me Rafa. Official friend of the Byron–Jones hook up.” I patted my shirt down with my free hand. “I had a badge but I lost it.”
“Next time ask for a lanyard.” She tugged the vase away with a slight smile, tucking it under her arm like a football. What a mouth. ¡Dios mío! “I didn’t buy tickets to the event,” she said.
I pretended to look stern, mostly because I wanted to check her out some more. “You boycotting the games?”
That got me a full–on grin, which hit me in the gut. Who was this girl and how had I never seen her before?
“Seen one game, seen them all,” she said. She walked briskly past me back to the swing she’d been sitting on earlier and set the vase on the table.
I followed, sinking into the chair beside her. “You know my name. It seems unfair I don’t know yours.”
She hesitated for long enough that I wasn’t sure she was going to answer with anything other than “get lost.” “Francesca,” she said at last. She flicked her bangs off her forehead. “My mom works for your dad. You’re Javier’s son, right?”
Those words were like a douse of cold water. “Yeah.” I waited for her next words. Her next look. Her obvious disdain. I stiffened, reminded of why I had come out here in the first place and ready to rip into her.
“She’s a Liaison.” Even for the simplest of sentences, her hands gestured madly. Cute. “Mirella Bellafiore.”
My heart sunk. Now I knew exactly who she was. And wished I didn’t. Francesca Bellafiore, golden girl. Latest pride and joy of the Bellafiore clan and totally off–limits to me. Javier would freak, which would be fun, but honestly? Good girls weren’t my thing. “Yeah, sure. I’ve met her. Guess you’re excited to start all that healing stuff.”
Disappointment and contempt? flickered in her eyes. Apparently hot girl and I were natural enemies. Figures. I wasn’t about to be an asshole to her though. It would ruin my façade.
I was about to make my excuses and go, but I noticed her twisting this hideous bracelet tighter and tighter into her arm. “You okay?”
Her hand stilled. “Are you reading me?”
“No,” I said with exaggerated patience. “I don’t go around reading everyone I meet. Don’t need to most of the time. People telegraph enough on their own.” I nodded at her reddened skin. She jutted her chin out. “People shouldn’t take everything at face value.”
Like me.

Praise for the Book
"I recommend Get Real to New Adult readers who are looking for something a little more unique, and for urban fantasy readers who want something sassy and swoony. Can I have the sequel now? Seriously. Want. Now." ~ Kristen
"Get Real is a paranormal romance with a New Adult feel. The reader is quickly immersed in a magical world [...] The book is full of suspense, vivid imagery, and pain (emotional as well as physical). Although the fast pace can cause some confusion at times, they do travel A LOT in this book, it will definitely keep your attention. Why are you still reading this review? Read the book!!" ~ Amazon Customer
"Wow. What to say. I am a big Tellulah Darling fan. I absolutely adore her characters. They are real, funny and relatable. When [...]Get Real was hilarious and captured me from the first page. The world she created was unique and I greatly enjoyed it. [...] I loved the story and I can't wait to read the next book In the series. Tellulah you have outdone yourself and you definitely have a fan for life in me." ~ Monique
"I loved this book for so many reasons. Without giving anything away, I will say that the plot drove the action of the story and kept me turning the pages. The romance was fun, hot and drove me a little insane. [...] The thing that really stood out for me, though, was the fantasy. It was so well-realised. Nothing felt contrived - every element of the magic was logical and made perfect sense. It fit completely naturally into the world of the story and just made total sense. I would absolutely recommend this book if you like fantasy, action, mystery or romance, or a combination of them all." ~ Clare
"Really enjoyed this book from Tellulah Darling. I felt transported by the fantasy setting, especially the international feel and diverse group of characters. Darling has a talent for writing humor and witty banter, especially with her male characters, and this was definitely true here. Throw in an intriguing storyline and some great fantasy, and this made for a great read." ~ ReaderGirl

About the Author
Tellulah Darling: noun.
Sassy girls. Swoony boys. What could go wrong?
1) YA & New Adult romantic comedy author because her first kiss sucked and she’s compensating.
2) Firm believer that some of the best stories happen when love meets comedy and awkwardness ensues.
3) Sassy minx.
Both a hopeless romantic and total cynic, Tellulah Darling is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way. Her romcoms come in a variety of flavours and heat levels.

Enter the blitz-wide giveaway for a chance to win a signed copy of Get Real by Tellulah Darling and a Get Real wristband with a quote from the book (open internationally).


Tuesday, September 29, 2015

"Blessed are Those Who Mourn" by Kristi Belcamino

Blessed are Those Who Mourn
(Gabriella Giovanni Mystery Book 4)
by Kristi Belcamino

Blessed are Those Who Mourn is the fourth book in Kristi Belcamino's Gabriella Giovanni Mystery series. Also available: Blessed are the Dead, Blessed are the Meek, and Blessed are Those Who Weep.

Blessed are Those Who Mourn is currently on tour with Reading Addiction Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

San Francisco Bay Area reporter Gabriella Giovanni has finally got it all together: a devoted and loving boyfriend, Detective Sean Donovan; a beautiful little girl with him; and her dream job as the cops' reporter for the Bay Herald. But her success has been hard-won and has left her with debilitating paranoia. When a string of young co-eds starts to show up dead with suspicious Biblical verses left on their bodies - the same verses that the man she suspects kidnapped and murdered her sister twenty years ago had sent to her - she begins to question if the killer is trying to send her a message.
It is not until evil strikes Gabriella's own family that her worst fears are confirmed. As the clock begins to tick, every passing hour means the difference between life and death to those Gabriella loves ...

Chapter 1
The setting sun turns my family into dark silhouettes as I step onto the warm sand. The beach is nearly deserted, except for a lone figure walking north of us along the sand where the waves are crashing in from the Pacific Ocean.
A cool breeze makes me glad I trekked to the car to retrieve my daughter’s little lavender parka. We promised her we’d stay until the sun set.
Donovan’s back is turned, phone held to his ear. He’s pacing in his bare feet, his jeans rolled up, a scowl on his face from what he’s hearing. A murder. Every once in a while he glances back at Grace kneeling in the sand playing.
Grace has dug deep channels with a small red shovel, chatting to herself, weaving tales about mermaids and sea creatures and fairies. She bounces a plastic dinosaur along the sand, a prize won in kindergarten for reading two books in one week.
Everything I’ve ever wanted is on that beach—Donovan and our daughter, Grace. My own little family. My life.
I’m still far away, closer to the parking lot, when I see the figure walking along the shore is growing closer. It’s a man. His shadow, with its elongated arms and legs, stretches across the beach until it seems to take on a life of its own. Something about his movements seems angry and frenetic—instead of the wandering gait of a casual sunset stroll—and sets off  small alarms in my head. I walk faster, the sand seeming to reach up and grab at my ankles, slowing my progress.
Donovan’s pacing takes him in the opposite direction, away from Grace. He’s not paying attention to anything besides his phone call. The man is now closer to Grace, who seems alone on the beach, although Donovan is twenty feet away. Donovan squints up into the pink and orange clouds, raking a hand through his perpetually spiky hair.
The man’s path takes him straight toward Grace. My heart races. I can’t tell for sure, but it seems like he’s watching her. He walks at a determined clip, covering ground much faster than me in my flat, strappy sandals. I lean over in mid-stride and rip a sandal from one foot without stopping. Then I scoop up the other in one fluid motion.
Still, each step feels like my bare feet are being sucked into quicksand. I hurry, but feel like I’m moving in slow motion.
“Grace.” I shout, but my words are carried away on the wind. I’m breathless from fighting the sand tugging at my feet. The breeze, which has grown stronger in the past few minutes, whips my hair. Grace’s brown ringlets bob as she hops her plastic dinosaur around, not noticing anything else.
Donovan isn’t far from Grace, but now the man is closer.
At the same moment Donovan turns and sees the look on my face, the man reaches Grace. His long shadow falls over her small figure. She looks up with a smile and starts chatting. He leans down. His hand reaches toward her, his fingers millimeters from her arm. A wave of dread ripples through me. My feet feel cemented into the sand. My mind screams, but no words come out of my open mouth. Inside, I’m flailing and thrashing to get to Grace, but on the outside, I’m struck immobile.
The man reaches down and grasps Grace’s arm, turning her toward him, and the spell is broken. I’m on wet sand running, the scream caught in my throat coming out as a birdlike garble. I scoop Grace up onto one hip and take a step back. I gasp for air, but I can’t breathe. My heart is going to explode in my chest.
The man looks at me with surprise and for a split second, there is something in his eyes that sends panic racing up into my throat, but then the look is gone, as if I imagined it.
“Gosh. I’m so stupid,” he says in a nasally voice. He wipes his palms on the legs of his jeans, as if he is sweating even though the temperature is rapidly dipping along with the sun.
Donovan is at my side. “Gabriella, is everything okay?”
He’s used my full name and he’s looking at me instead of Grace in my arms. Guilt flicks through me. I’m not acting irrational or hysterical. A strange man walked up to our daughter and grabbed her arm. Any mother would react the same, wouldn’t she?
At first glance, the man seems boyish with his bowl haircut, baggy jeans, and sneakers. Up close, a few crow’s feet shows he is older. Maybe even my age—thirty. He has feminine pink lips, and piercing blue eyes, the color of the arctic sea. The collar of his black jacket is pulled up. His smile is all “gee, golly, shucks,” abashed and embarrassed but doesn’t reach his eyes. He paws at his jeans with his palms. He’s done that twice now. He’s nervous.
When he meets my eyes again, I realize that something about him seems off, something about his eyes, more than just their intense color. One eye is close to his nose and the other set far apart. It’s jarring and somehow unsettling to make eye contact.
“I’m so sorry,” he says in that same stuffed-up sounding voice. “What a knuckle-headed move. I should know better than to walk up to someone else’s kid like that.”
Donovan grips my arm.
“What’s going on here?” His words are clipped.
I’m panting, but finally able to catch my breath. Still, the words will not come.
“Your kid is so darn cute. She looks just like my little sister used to look. I just wanted to say hi to her and didn’t even think that was a total bonehead move to walk up to someone else’s kid when her parents weren’t around.” He gives an odd smile as he says this.
 “We were around.” Donovan says in a monotone, staring the man down.
The man looks down at the sand.
Grace is kicking and trying to get down. My knuckles are white gripping her.
“Ow, mama, you’re hurting me,” she says and tosses her curls in irritation.
Donovan shoots a glance our way before turning his attention back to the man.
 “You live around here?” Donovan asks, seemingly casual, but the muscle in his jaw is working hard. His dark eyes under thick eyebrows have narrowed and hold a glint of menace. In a second, it alters him from the man on the cover of the “Sexiest Bay Area Cops” calendar into something feral and dangerous.
The man meets Donovan’s eyes and for a second it looks like he is challenging Donovan to dispute his story, but then he looks down again and digs a sneakered toe into the sand, reinforcing my impression that he’s a kid not a man.
“Marin. Meeting some friends here in the city for dinner. Was early so came here to kill some time.  I didn’t mean to cause any problems. I just wanted to say hi to her. Maybe you’re over-reacting a bit.”
Donovan runs a hand through his hair. His posture relaxes. Instinctively—or luckily—this man has honed in on Donovan’s Achilles heel. We’ve talked at length about our tendency to be overprotective parents because of our jobs, me as a crime reporter, and him as a detective. Donovan has argued we can’t let this affect Grace’s childhood. We need to protect her, but let her grow up carefree. I agree. But it’s easier said than done.
We’ve, also, talked about my irrational fear that something will happen to Grace.
This man may not realize it, but he’s instantly off the hook with this one simple word—Overreacting.
“Why don’t you go head on out,” Donovan says, dismissing him.
“My bad, really. Wasn’t using my head. Have a nice night,” the man says and turns to leave.
I set Grace down and Donovan wraps his arm around me.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know.” I don’t tell him that it felt like I was having a heart attack, that I couldn’t breathe or move. A stranger walked up to my daughter and I stood there, weak, helpless, frozen.
Donovan gives me a look before we both turn and watch the man’s figure growing smaller. We watch without saying a word. We stand there until the man turns and heads toward the wooden boardwalk bordering the road. He never looks back.

Praise for the Book
"Kristi Belcamino brings her reporter chops to Gabriella Giovanni, the very best kind of heroine - smart, plucky, and true. Keep your eye on this writer." ~ Lisa Unger, New York Times bestselling author of Crazy Love You

"So much fast action, so much murder and mayhem this book flies to a thrilling conclusion. I think reading the previous books would help understand some of the background story. A great read." ~ Ann
"Belcamino has done it again! I had the pleasure of reading an ARC of Mourn and I am delighted to report this book, the fourth and best in the Gabriella Giovanni series, is excellent. This was not an easy task as the first three were terrific, each better than the one before it. It is not necessary to read the series in order but it is clearly the best way to go. I highly recommend reading the third before the fourth book. [...] Belcamino writes very well and has a good story to tell. It is fast paced and difficult to put down. Her gift, however, is getting the reader into the head of Gabriella. I felt as though I was experiencing some of the things that she was experiencing. What more can the reader ask?" ~ Dick

"Another winner from Kristi Belcamino! This author is on fire! In this 4th book in the Gabriella Giovanni series, the action starts near the beginning and barrels full speed ahead, with suspense and gut-wrenching emotional pull that keeps the reader glued until the very end. How does the author do it? She does it with finely-honed writing skills and a gift for creating real characters and an authentic story. She is one of the best new writers I have read." ~ Mikki
"The pace is furious and the action hot as Gabriella races a ticking clock to the resolution of an unsolved crime which has haunted her life. Reader beware: the emotionally fraught drama of this suspense-filled gem will tug at the most hardened heartstrings! A bravura piece of story telling by a stellar talent. " ~ John

About the Author
Kristi Belcamino is a writer, photographer, and artist. In her former life as a newspaper crime reporter in California, she flew over Big Sur in an FA-18 jet with the Blue Angels, raced a Dodge Viper at Laguna Seca, watched autopsies, and interviewed serial killers. She is now a journalist based in Minneapolis and the Gabriella Giovanni mysteries are her first books.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win ebook copies of Blessed are the Dead, Blessed are the Meek, and Blessed are Those Who Weep.


"Concealed" by M. M. Koenig

(Secrets and Lies Volume 3)
by M. M. Koenig

Concealed is the third and final book in M. M. Koenig's Secrets and Lies series. Also available: Conflicted (read my blog post) and Complicated (read my blog post).

Join More Than Words Promotions for the Facebook Release Day Party on 29 September for lots of fun and prizes.

Mia Ryan’s past and present are about to collide in startling ways, leaving her to question everything she’s ever known about herself. 
After a shocking turn of events that revealed some mind-blowing secrets, Mia becomes more determined than ever to take back her life from the darkness that’s consumed her. In her pursuit for answers, she quickly discovers that parts of her past, which have always been a mystery, might be the key to saving the ones she loves … and the man that stole her heart.
Ethan Fitzgerald knows that things are never what they seem. Taking down his father’s empire wasn’t supposed to be a challenge - that was before Mia Ryan waltzed through his door. Forever changed by a love that reignites his purpose in life, Ethan is willing to do whatever it takes to protect Mia, and his enemies know it.
In this edge of your seat finale of the Secrets and Lies series, the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been before. Can Mia and Ethan’s relationship withstand the malicious forces threatening them, or is letting go the answer that saves them and the ones they love? Everything comes at a cost - and it might just be true love.

We reached the elevator bank and hit the button. While we waited, Ethan pressed me up against the wall. His lips forcefully connected with mine. His tongue slid through my mouth in such a way that I sucked in an overdue breath moments later. He trailed kisses along my jaw until he reached my ear. He thrust his body against mine and occasionally rolled his hips as he stared intensely at me. My lower half dampened in an instant as hot sparks darted in every direction of my body, creating a sensual ache that demanded satisfaction.
“I’m willing to bench my frustrations about your living arrangements because I know this is what’s best for your friend. But make no mistake, Mia, I don’t fucking like it one bit. I’m having a hard time dealing with you being home but only getting a fraction of your time,” he growled, biting at my earlobe.
My body was in a state of confusion. Part of me was incredibly turned on with the forcefulness of his approach, while the other was more than annoyed with his need to have complete control over me. He brought his mouth back to mine and nipped along my lower lip.
“Ethan, it’s been two days. I don’t want to fight with you so please try to get control over whatever pent-up anger you have right now. If I had to guess, I’d say you’re acting this pissy with me because it’s been over twelve hours since you got laid,” I joked.
Ethan stepped away from me while shaking his head. His mouth curled into a sexy grin. My stomach and thighs clenched from the waves of desire flowing through me. My breath hitched as he ran his hand lazily up my arm. He trailed his fingers down my back before brushing them along my throat and over to my chin. He slid my bag from my shoulder while pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. The slow burn he created was about to become a wildfire. I needed to be pressed against him to satisfy the ache deep within me. As I leaned in to do just that, the elevator doors opened.
God help me! The things this man does to me. I want to cave to my desires right now! 
His eyes were ablaze with lust as people passed by us and down the hallway. The sexual tension between the two of us was thick in the air. It didn’t go unnoticed either. Several people gawked at us as they walked by.
My heartbeat skyrocketed as he continued to stare at me with such want that I was about ready to strip down for him. He knew he was getting to me too. He kept licking his lips as people flowed past us. Ethan goaded me even more by grazing his teeth along his bottom lip. My knees were ready to hit the floor to pleasure him right then and there. The wetness trickling down my thighs amped my libido even higher. It was pleading for me to do something and fast. When everyone was finally out, we stepped inside and he teasingly ran his fingers along my waistline – just to mess with me some more.
 Seeing someone still inside the elevator waiting to go down actually sent a wave of relief through me. Every part south of me was begging for satisfaction. I was very close to giving into it. The rational side of me was screaming to stay strong. I had to discuss my dream with Ethan before I gave in. If we fucked each other now, that would be it for the night. We wouldn't talk at all this evening.
Ethan appeared to be in tune with my thoughts because he flashed his naughty smirk before towing me into his large frame. The guy in the elevator poked his head up from his cell long enough to nod at us. Ethan turned me to face him. The sultriness in his eyes intensified the yearning between my thighs. He didn’t help matters when he stroked his hands along my ribcage and towards my breasts. I stilled them with a sharp look for him to stop.
I must remain strong. I must remain strong. I must remain strong …
It didn’t matter how many times I repeated that to myself. Every subtle touch he made had my body flaming hotter by the minute. He continued to torture me by brushing his fingers underneath my shirt and along my sides until we reached the lobby. The hot pool of desire between my legs was close to making me burst at the seams if I didn’t have him soon. It took everything I had not to drag him towards the bathroom in the lobby so I could have my way with him. I wiggled out of his grasp and kept my distance as we strolled outside.
Ethan laughed nonstop on our way to his car. I ignored him and focused on cooling down my overly turned-on body. For the first time today, I cursed the sunny, cloudless sky. I almost wished it were raining again because a cold shower was very necessary at this point.


About the Author
M. M. Koenig was born and raised in Minnesota. She now lives in the Twin Cities area with her loving dog Marley. She is a graduate of the University of Minnesota with a Bachelors of Science in Sociology.
M. M. Koenig enjoys being active and has a variety of interests that coincide with her passion for life. Always one to try new things, she has acquired a variety of skills. Her sarcastic nature and multitude of experiences tend to find their way into her novels.
When she has free time and isn’t writing, she spends as much time as she can with friends and family. To fuel her soul, she is constantly looking for new music, movies, and books to keep the writer’s block at bay.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win some great prizes: a signed set of the Secrets and Lies series (US only), 2 x $25 Amazon GC (INT), 2 x Swag Packs (includes swag for all three books; US only), 3 x ebook sets of all three Secrets and Lies books (INT).