Chapter 1 Reveal & Giveaway

OMG it’s the 1st of May. Do you know what that means? Karma releases in 4 days. I had no idea a release day could be so freaking exciting and so damn scary at the same time. I’ve been up all night, trying to get some much needed sleep, but all I could think of was: Will they love it? Will they hate it?   

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Well, you tell me…. Here’s Chapter 1: 

An electric hum charges the chilly air. The ghostly light of a bulb flickers. Seconds later, I gaze into Baphomet’s onyx eyes. He lingers over a naked couple chained to his harpy feet, guarding them like a sphinx, imprisoning them like a warden.

“Oh my freakin’ gosh! Is that…Is that the devil?” Redhead screams. The look on her high-school-queen- bee face is priceless.

I take a deep breath. “Yes,” I say, swallowing the laughter that crawls up my throat. “It’s the devil.”

Redhead presses a palm against her chest. “Sweet baby Jesus. Does that mean I’m…I’m going to hell?” Her otherwise brown aura, indicating self-absorption, is gray. In other words, she’s petrified.

The chick is obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, and I doubt hell recruits stupid cheerleaders. I fake a smile and wave her question off. “Nah, don’t worry. In the tarot, the devil represents desire and passion.” I point to the card deck. “Draw another one.”

Her delicate fingers fly over the cards, and she pulls the sixth major arcana card out of the pile. The lovers.

Redhead’s sapphire eyes gleam. “I know what that means. He loves me, right?”

The devil and the lovers? That’s as bad as a relationship can get. When her fingers accidently brush mine, I get a glimpse of how bad it’ll be.

****

The fluorescent lights of the ER blinded Redhead. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself this was her fault. She should have never asked him about the other girl. She’d gotten a taste of his temper before and knew better than to challenge him. But that damn jealousy had gotten the best of her.

“Can you hear me?” the doctor asked, worried.

She wanted to answer, wanted to tell him she was fine, but she could hardly breathe. It felt like the air hit an invisible wall inside her bleeding nose. Parting her bruised lips, she gasped for oxygen, but the taste of sanitizer made her sick.

“Miss Rosewood, can you hear me?” The doctor’s rich voice hammered through her brain.

She swallowed the pins and needles in her throat. “Yes.”

“How did this happen?”
 Every muscle in her body tensed. “I…I…fell.”

****

I shake the brutal vision off. Every fortune-teller with a conscience would tell Redhead to stay the hell away from this guy. The thing is, if I tell her the truth, she’ll accuse me of lying, and being called a liar is the doom of a clairvoyant. Luckily, I don’t have a conscience.

“You guys are star-crossed lovers.”

“Really?” she squeaks, like the dumb cheerleader she is.

“Yeah, course. Even Romeo and Juliet would envy you guys.” If she doesn’t hear the sarcasm in my voice, she totally deserves someone who’ll beat the crap out of her. Besides, the whole Romeo and Juliet reference should put her on high alert. Yeah, I know, people think of them as the ultimate couple. But did they actually read the play? Let’s summarize their fate: first Romeo wants Rosalind. Why? Because she’s a nun, and guys dig things they can’t have. Then Juliet, another forbidden fruit, comes along. Unfortunately, she’s dumb enough to fall for his shit, and bada bing, bada boom, they both end up dead. Some call that romantic. I prefer stupid.

Her aura radiates fifty shades of red. Making an educated guess, I’d say she didn’t get the hint. Hey, at least I tried.

Pleased, she pulls a hundred-dollar bill from her bag and puts it on the table. “You’re amazing.”

“I know,” I reply flatly before shoving the money in my black lace bra. “Now get out and send the next one in.”

The chick doesn’t even mind my rudeness. “Thanks. Thank you so much.” She sounds like a broken record, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the door slams shut behind her.

Waiting for my next client, I gather the cards. The foulness of the air bugs me a little. I hate rundown motel rooms, but they add to the mystery, and in my business, it’s all about being mysterious. Harpers Ferry is my third stop in the last two weeks. Small town folk are good clients. They hunger for the perfect house, perfect husband, perfect kids. If they could, they’d even try to breed the perfect dog. No need to say this makes me perfectly sick. But beggars can’t be choosers, and all I need is another five hundred bucks, and then I can kiss my old life goodbye.

A faint knock, then the door swings open. My next client is a middle-aged woman accompanied by her daughter. What kind of a mother drags her kid to a fortune-teller? I straighten and wave them over. The little girl is about ten, but she still sucks her thumb.

“Are you a witch?” the blonde angel asks, precariously.

I totally prefer the term Wise Independent Tremendously Charismatic Human, but before I get a chance to clarify, her mother interferes. “They said you could help us.”

They? Who the heck are they? And did she just say help them? Who the hell does she think I am, Mother Theresa? “You want to know if your daughter will become the next Miss America, am I right?” A little sarcasm never hurts.

The woman steps closer. The flames of the black candles shed light on her wrinkled face. “Please kill my husband,” she says, throwing a bundle of hundreds on the table. My guess is about ten thousand dollars.

“Lady, I’m a fortune-teller, not an assassin,” I say, never taking my eyes off the money.

“You’re a witch.”


I cock a brow. “Still not an assassin.”


“He hurts her,” she whispers, pointing to the kid.
I know he does. I’d sensed her heartache the moment they walked in. I might tell lies for a living, but I tend to see the truth when no one else does. The aura of the little girl is a dark, muddy gray, evidence of a broken soul.

“Call the cops and get a divorce.”

The woman pushes the little girl in my lap. “Please, I’m begging you. Help her.”

Hazel eyes, clouded with misery and sorrow, look right through me. That son of a bitch robbed her of her innocence and left her drowning in self-hatred. Shivers run down my spine. Shit. I have no intention of bearing witness to the bastard’s barbaric crime. It’s a real shame visions don’t ask for permission.

****

She stared at the gleaming stars on her ceiling. Her mother had put them there to keep the darkness at bay, but it didn’t work. The room was gloomy. She knew the monster would come for her. It would look like her dad, but that was just a disguise. Her real dad would never do such things to her. He loved her. She thought of the puppy he’d once bought for her and the places he had taken her. A monster could never be so kind.

The creaking of the wooden door stopped her heart. She pulled the blanket over her head and started to count.

One, two, three. The blanket pulled back. Four, five six.A wet kiss. Seven, eight, nine.“I love you, princess.”

****

I push the fragile body of the girl away. Her pain. Her destiny. I don’t give a shit about any of it. “Take your money and get the hell outta here.”

The woman’s jaw drops. “But—”


I hold my hand up. “Out! Now.”


The little girl’s gaze drops to her pink ballerina flats. Her disappointment floats through the dark room, leaving traces of hate and sadness in the air.
“You said she’d make him stop,” she says as her mother hauls her to the door.
Don’t. This is none of your business. Let them go.

Shit!
 I heave a sigh. “Wait.”


They spin around. Hope flickers across the mother’s face. The woman makes me sick. How dare she call herself a mother? She knows what her husband is up to. Why on earth did she never try to stop him? I remind myself this isn’t about her. It’s about the little girl.

“What’s your name?” I ask the kid.


“Jamie,” she replies, voice weak and broken.
I wave her over. When she doesn’t move, her mother grabs her by the wrist and pulls her toward me. Ruthless bitch. Can’t she see her daughter is terrified?

Mother of the Year is probably expecting me to cast a spell or torment a voodoo doll. Yeah, you kinda get the wrong idea about magic when you’ve watched too many Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes. But real magic doesn’t come cheap. I wonder if the ruthless bitch is ready to pay the price.

I pull Jamie’s rigid body closer and put my forefinger on her third eye. The kid is already damaged beyond repair, but what I’m about to do will kill a piece of her soul forever.

“Close your eyes, Jamie.”

 

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New Adult Scavenger Hunt!

THE HUNT IS OVER!!

the grand prize winners as well as the winner of the $50 Amazon GC will be announced on May 4th on the New Adult Scavenger Hunt website and here! 

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!! 

 

Hey guys! I’m Nadine Nightingale aka Dini, your hostess for this part of the hunt. I’m the author of Karma , the first book in the Drag.Me.To.Hell. series, published by the Wild Rose Press. It’s a paranormal romance about Amanda Bishop (a stab-worth, infuriating, and arrogant witch), and Alex Remington (a righteous, honest, and caring hunter). They used to have a thing, but that was before he learned she’s a witch and tried to kill her. Eighteen months later, he’s back in her life and they have a deal; she’ll help him save his brother and he’ll disappear from her life for good. But karma can be a real bitch…   

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Karma releases in just six days! Calls for celebrations, doesn’t it? So, I’m giving away a $50 Amazon Giftcard. Enter at the bottom of this post!!

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Welcome to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt ! This biannual event promotes  new adult authors and offers a great opportunity for fans to see the latest and greatest in new adult literature. At this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive bonus material from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt, and a chance to enter giveaways for fabulous prices. 

How to hunt: 

Pick a team! Since you’re reading this you did the right thing and picked #TeamBlue. Okay…okay…#TeamRed #TeamPurple are equally awesome. 

Team Blue S2016

Read this post! I have the honor to host the lovely Sara Dobie Bauer who is going to share an amazing excerpt from her novel Bite Somebodyavailable June 21 from World Weaver Press.  

Look for my lucky number & write it down! You’ll find it at the end of this post and I’ll make sure you won’t miss it. 

Click the link at the bottom of the post so you can continue the hunt within that same team. Repeat all steps until you have visited all the authors for one team. Add up the numbers that you collected from all the authors of one team (if your a mathematical failure like me, I suggest using a calculator). Visit ENTER HERE and submit your entry. You must submit your entry before Sunday, May 1st at 12 p.m. US EST.

Got it? All right, let’s hunt!  

Today, I’m hosting the lovely Sara Dobie Bauer on my website for the New Adult Scavenger Hunt!

Sara-Dobie-Bauer-Author

Sara Dobie Bauer is a writer, model, and mental health advocate with a creative writing degree from Ohio University. She spends most days at home in her pajamas as a book nerd and sex-pert for SheKnows.com. Her short story, “Don’t Ball the Boss,” was nominated for the 2015 Pushcart Prize, inspired by her shameless crush on Benedict Cumberbatch. She lives with her hottie husband and two precious pups in Northeast Ohio, although she would really like to live in a Tim Burton film. She is the author of Life without Harry, Forever Dead, and Wolf Among Sheep. World Weaver Press will publish her novel, BITE SOMEBODY, summer of 2016. Read more at http://SaraDobieBauer.com or find her on Twitter @SaraDobie.

Find out more information by checking out the author website or find more about the author’s book here!

ABOUT BITE SOMEBODY

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“Do you want to be perfect?”

That’s what Danny asked Celia the night he turned her into a vampire. Three months have passed since, and immortality didn’t transform her into the glamorous, sexy vamp she was expecting but left her awkward, lonely, and working at a Florida gas station. On top of that, she’s a giant screw-up of an immortal, because the only blood she consumes is from illegally obtained hospital blood bags.

What she needs to do – according to her moody vampire friend Imogene – is just … bite somebody. But Celia wants her first bite to be special, and she has yet to meet Mr. Right Bite. Then, Ian moves in next door. His scent creeps through her kitchen wall and makes her nose tingle, but insecure Celia can’t bring herself to meet the guy face-to-face.

When she finally gets a look at Ian’s cyclist physique, curly black hair, and sun-kissed skin, other parts of Celia tingle, as well. Could he be the first bite she’s been waiting for to complete her vampire transformation? His kisses certainly have a way of making her fangs throb.

Just when Celia starts to believe Ian may be the fairy tale ending she always wanted, her jerk of a creator returns to town, which spells nothing but trouble for everyone involved.

Available June 21 from World Weaver Press!

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EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

After The Mermaid Incident, she fell into a death-like slumber. She didn’t wake until about 9 p.m., which was really late for Celia, who usually woke with the sunset. She wasn’t hung-over. She wasn’t even sure vampires could be hung-over. She sipped slowly on a bag of blood, her stomach still lacking confidence. She put on her soft Minnie Mouse t-shirt from the night before and felt bad for herself.

Then, halfway through her pint … the smell. Woodsy BO Guy was right outside her front door.

Knock. Knock.

She wanted to hide. Her canines descended on their own accord. They’d never done that before. Apparently, from what she’d heard, it happened whenever a vampire was hungry or turned on, but Celia drank enough to never be hungry and her sex drive was somewhere in the negatives. Yet, there they were; the damn pokey things had escaped their caves. She put her hand to her mouth.

Then, his voice through the door: “Mermaid? Are you alive?”

Oh. My. God.

She sprung to her feet and dropped the bag of blood on her bedroom floor. Sudden panic made her canines retract at least, but still, she couldn’t answer the door, not with him out there, smelling like that.

“Mermaid?” He continued to knock.

Celia lay down on the floor as if the man could see through walls.

“I’ll call the police if you don’t answer,” he said. “Tell them I smell a dead body.”

Just what Celia was scared of, the police showing up on suspicion of a dead body only to discover blood all over the carpet. She stood and found her robe. She draped herself in oversized plush and took a long sip from her spilled blood bag before slowly approaching the front door.

She leaned her nose against it. “I’m fine. Thanks,” she said.

She could feel him out there, the heat of his ear against her door in the shape of a seashell. “I need visual evidence.”

“No, really, I’m fine.” She scratched at the door like a dog wanting to be let out. His smell—oh, goodness, that smell. Celia was warm and out of breath.

“Come on, Mermaid. I won’t leave until you open the door.”

She opened the door just a little so he could see the side of her face.

“Hey,” he said. The scent of weed from the night before had covered most of his normal smell—that and Celia’s panic. In that moment, his smell attacked her full bore. “So. I saw you naked last night.”

She closed her eyes. “Yeah.”

“I’m Ian,” he said. “I just moved in.”

Don’t stare at his neck. Don’t stare at his neck.

It was a really nice neck—long and thin. His Adam’s apple bounced when he swallowed. Shit, she was staring at his neck.

“Celia.” She blinked. “I’m Celia.”

“It’s really dangerous to swim alone at night. You know that, right?”

“I was drunk,” she said.

“Yeah, well, don’t do it again, okay?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I like swimming at night.”

Ian glanced toward the sea. He had nice cheekbones and a freckle on his throat. Don’t stare at his neck.

“How about next time you take a dive, you come get me so I can make sure you’re safe.”

She felt tipsy on his smell and his sympathy. She’d known the guy for five minutes—his scent a bit longer—and he already wanted to keep her safe. Celia had known her parents for twenty years before they died, and the only thing they worried about was her cholesterol.

Now that was pretty awesome, wasn’t it? I for one, already pre-ordered Bite Somebody. Have you? No? Well, what are you waiting for? 

Pre-Order Now:

Amazon World Weaver Press

Congratulations! You survived my weirdness and endless chatter, got to read an exclusive excerpt from Bite Somebody, and damn well deserve a reward. And let’s be honest, what could be a better prize than a ton of books by me, Sara Dobie Bauer, and many other awesome authors? To win them you need to know that my lucky number is 15.  Add up all the lucky numbers of the authors on #TeamBlue and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize! 

CONTINUE THE HUNT
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author!
Don’t forget to enter my additional giveaway of a $50 Amazon Giftcard below!!! Just click on the Rafflecopter link!!!

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Excerpt Reveal & Giveaway—Karma

For the longest time, I just stared at him. His perfect abs, the mesmerizing face, the fatal eyes—fuck, the guy was perfection. But this—us—was wrong. He was a hunter. I was a witch. He was gentle, good, and caring. I was a selfish, evil witch resented by my own mother .

“Amanda?” He stepped forward until we were eye to eye. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I barked. “Just go back to bed, all right?”

He moved forward until we were chest to chest. “Sure about that?” His hands trailed down my arms. “The wall is so much more fun,” he said, kissing the edge of my lip.

My senses reeled. All I had to do was tell him we were over, but one touch, and I was a wet mess that hungered for more. “Alex,” I moaned as he reached for the hem of my shirt. “Please.”

Kissing the other side of my lip, he smiled. “Please touch me? Please leave me alone? Gotta be a bit more specific, Manda.”

When I didn’t reply, he pulled my shirt over my head and pushed me against the wall. Cupping my ass with rough hands, he trailed kisses down my neck.

I pressed my palms against his chest and wrapped my legs around his waist. Tension built in my belly as I felt his hard-on against my black lace panties. What in God’s name was wrong with me? One second I wanted to get as far away from him as possible, and the next I wanted him buried inside me. “Alex,” I choked out. “This is a bad idea.”

He carried me to the table. When he set me down, his eyes locked with mine. “With you, everything seems to be a bad idea.” His gaze dropped to my lips, and before I could say anything, his mouth covered mine.

He kissed me so hard, my head bent back. Desire spread through my body like a blazing fire, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I needed him.

Running my hands through his thick hair, I pressed my legs against his rock-hard ass and pulled him closer. “Alex,” I whispered against his lips. “I want you.” My chest rose and fell with excitement and nervousness.

“Say that again,” he ordered in a husky voice.
I pulled his boxers down. “I. Want. You.”

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Cover Reveal & Giveaway

It’s finally happening. I’m so excited to share the cover for Karma (Book One, Drag.Me.To.Hell. Series) with you.

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Release Day Date: May 4th 

Book Blurb: 

People call me all sorts of names—bad girl, black sheep, and my all-time favorite…Satan’s bride. I could blame the fact I’m a witch for my behavior, but the truth is I’m infuriating, arrogant, and stab-worthy.

Alex Remington is a hunter and everything I’m not—righteous, honest, caring. We used to have a thing, but that was before he learned I’m a witch and tried to kill me.

Eighteen months later, he’s back in my life and we have a deal; I’ll help him save his brother and he’ll disappear from my life for good. But karma can be a real bitch…

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Exclusive Excerpt: 

I hand him the glass. “We’re back to spitting insults, hm? What is this, Alex’s nine circles of booze hell?”

He pulls me toward him, and suddenly I find myself in his lap, straddling him. “No, but since going to hell is inevitable,” he says, his lips brushing the spot between my two ladies. “I might as well enjoy the ride.”

I keep telling myself he’s drunk. Doesn’t change the fact that I want to unzip his freaking jeans, though. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m screwin’ you, Alex.”

“Am I?” He runs his thumbs over my bra, turning my nipples into rocks. “Then why does your heart beat like the overheated engine of my Mustang?”

“It does not,” I insist.

He pushes up, and his hard-on presses against my sweet spot. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

I dig my nails into his shoulders. “Alex,” I moan, trying to get off him. “Stop it, please.” It’s supposed to sound like a goddamn order, but comes out as desperate begging.

His hands glued to my ass, he tugs me against his chest. “I know you want me.” He kisses down my neck. “You always want me. Just admit it,” he says, pulling my shirt up.

I close my eyes. Hips rocking back and forth, I enjoy the feeling of the fabric rubbing against my heat. I do want him. Fuck, I need him, but he’s like a drug, makes you high and leaves you dry and boneless. “Alex, please…stop.”

“Just one night.” His husky voice makes my toes curl. “For the sake of old times. What do you say?”

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3 $ 10 Amazon Giftcards

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How Not To Write Your First Blog Entry!

I’m going to let you guys in on a little secret. About ten minutes ago, I wrote this awesome first blog entry. The headline read: Why Am I Such An Annoying Bitch Most Of The Time? Yep, I seriously wrote that. Worse, I thought it was one helluva headline—funny, sassy, bad-ass. Everything those—How To Write My First Blog Entry—blogs said it should be.

So, here I am, in front of the love of my life aka MacBook, brimming with pride and grinning like the Cheshire cat. My niece—who considers my brain damaged goods most of the time—sits across from me, watching the new Lucifer episode. She gives me that look. The one that says: oh-my-God-she’s-up-to-no-good.

Niece: Let me guess, you just wrote one of those creepy as hell scenes for your book, right?

Me: What? No. I just wrote the best first blog entry ever.

Niece (pauses Lucifer and walks over): You wrote a blog?

Me (totally confused):  That’s what I just said.

Niece: Is it about ghosts?

Me: Uhm, no.

Niece: Demons?

Me: No.

Niece: Cemeteries or zombies?

Me (sighs heavily): No, Missy. It’s for my author website.

Niece (cocks a brow): Can I read it?

Me (smiles): Sure. It’s pretty bad ass, though.

Niece raises her brows, walks over and reads.

Silence

More silence

Me: Pretty cool, huh?

Niece (shakes her head):  Are you kidding?

Me (squints): What’s that supposed to mean?

Niece (facepalm): Are you for real? You can’t put that on your author homepage.

Me (wide-eyed): Why not? It’s funny and cool and—

Niece: The worst first blog entry I’ve ever read. That headline? Really? And don’t even get me started on the “I’d rather spend my life with fictional characters than real people” line.

Me (startled): It’s the truth. Besides, every book slut out there would agree with me.

Niece (draws a deep breath): You do know that real people will read that stuff. Not fictional ones, right?

Me (pounds like a five-year-old): I hate writing blogs.

Niece (pats my shoulder): Don’t worry, Dini. You can always use that crap on your next blog. Just make sure you call it “How Not To Write My First Blog Entry.”

And the moral of the story is: I suck at writing a blog 🙂