Tour long Giveaway: $20 Giftcard in Amazon, B&N, ARe or StrandBucks
Dates: 2/3/2014 through 2/24/2014
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About Lea Barrymire
Lea lives in Western New York with her hubby, three children, and miscellaneous critters. Before the rugrats, she lived a life of adventure, following her husband all over Europe with the US military. She’s slept in a car outside Paris, drove six hours just to see tulips in the Netherlands, and knocked ash from her shoes at Pompeii. Now she spends her time in life’s adventures at soccer games, PTA meetings and school plays.
Lea has loved reading from a very young age, spending many sleepless nights devouring books. Science fiction and paranormal were her favorite genres to read as a teenager, and that love bled into her adult life. She started writing during a bout of insomnia, to fill time, and found it filled a creative void. Now she communes regularly with the characters in her head and tries not to laugh out loud when they say something funny.
When Lea isn’t reading, writing or corralling kids, she enjoys watching movies and sciencey shows, or just kicking back and listening to some music.
Find Lea on her Website – Facebook – Twitter - Blog
Blurb: Willie Krenshaw wanted nothing more than a few minutes watching the waters of Lake Erie after a long workday. What she ended up with was a drugged male vampire and an itch to be a Good Samaritan.
When her inner kitty starts sniffing around at the male she’s helping, she knows Fate’s evil sense of humor is in full swing. Being a shifter-vampire hybrid is hard enough, but having a male vampire as her fated mate is just too much.
Nickola, the vampire she assists, finds her breathtaking and does all he can to push Fate’s agenda.
Stephen is the male vampire Nickola is investigating for the Council. He takes aim at the couple, intent on pulling Nick to his side or killing him. Between Stephen’s scheming and the Council’s interest in Willie, can they survive the chaos long enough to test the depths of their passions?
“Help me, please.” A hoarse male voice begged from under the pile of rags in the alley. A pale hand trembled from beneath the rubbish, reaching toward her. She tensed, anticipating an attack. She relaxed slightly when she caught a glimpse of the man under the pile. She stood rooted in the mouth of the alley, conflicting thoughts running through her head. Stay and help the dude, or leave him as food for the bloodsucker? She felt horrible even thinking about leaving the man to a vampire attack. She knew how painful that could be and didn’t wish that on anyone, especially some drugged out homeless guy. She also didn’t want to stick around and find out what a vampire was doing in her city. She edged along the sidewalk, warring with herself.
Leaving the guy to the mercies of a vampire made her feel guilty and left a bitter taste in her mouth. The man had asked her for help. She couldn’t leave him to the suckhead and live with herself in the morning. She hesitated for a moment before turning toward the heap of man on the ground and approached reluctantly. He better really be in need of help and not trying to lure her into a mugging. Good luck with that if he was human. He’d find out that not all women walking the streets were weak. She reached over her shoulder, digging her hand under her jacket, and grabbed the hilt of her short sword. Relief and comfort radiated from the cold steel. She pulled her favorite blade out from the sheath she wore strapped to her back and approached the man cautiously. The eleven-inch blade and heavy hilt were comforting to her and eased the tension in her shoulders.
The knife had been a gift from Robert when she turned fifteen. He’d spent hours each day training her on hand-to-hand combat both with and without weapons. She’d learned years ago to be very proficient with the blade, taking down more than a few vampires that had gotten it in their heads to kill her. She lived now only because of her training and her blade. With Robert’s help, she’d fashioned an over-the-shoulder holster that could be worn under a coat without anyone else guessing what she carried.
“Please.” The heap moaned and moved until the man was on hands and knees. The broad back of a large, muscular man spread out in front of her under a dark coat painted in last week’s trash. His movements were slow and awkward, almost jerky. Willie wondered if he was drunk or high. That would explain the uncoordinated movements. She didn’t smell any strong alcohol rolling off the man, though, so perhaps it was a medical concern. The scent of vampire was stronger, and she scanned the rooftops trying to catch a glimpse of the bloodsucker. She hoped that the owner of the scent wasn’t too close to this location. She really didn’t want to be forced into a fight tonight.
Renae Gioli isn’t looking for adventure but it finds her in the form of an Italian speaking man named Alexandre DiMassone. The moment she hears his voice in a crappy dive bar she’s entranced. His strange behavior on the dance floor leaves her hot, wanting, and scared.
He’s captivated by her eyes and even as he fights it the vampire can’t help himself. Can he push aside his jaded attitude and embrace what Fate has given him before he loses her? His obsession spells trouble and lust for her. Kidnapping her was never in the cards, but he doesn’t have the willpower to let her walk away.
Rogue vampires, cougar shifters, and more intrude on their time. Can she forgive him for forcing his will on her and changing her entire life in a single bite? His arrogance knows no bounds but she catches a glimpse of the confusion beneath.
Siren BookStrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/node/866375
She stood and pulled her phone from her pocket. She was surprised to see a message waiting for her from Meg. Well, at least she didn’t need to worry about finding her friend. Meghan once again had found someone to entertain her for the rest of the night. Her message was short and to the point. “Got a ride home from Mark. Call you in a.m. Have fun.”
“Your friend seems to have left you. Perhaps you will stay awhile with me so we may talk out your concerns?” That smooth voice moved over her nerve endings, sending a shiver through her limbs. Even knowing he was weird, and a potential hazard, didn’t stop her body from reacting. Her pussy creamed just a little at the thought of listening to his accent. Down girl. Psycho boy is not a good idea.
“Sorry, Alex. I’m heading home. Have a good evening.” She continued walking through the crowd, hoping he didn’t follow her. She had pepper spray in her purse but didn’t want to use it.
He seemed like a nice guy, so maybe this whole thing was some sort of hormonal imbalance on her part. Maybe she needed to get laid. Perhaps her reaction to his kisses had nothing at all to do with him, and was all about her lack of male attention for over a year. She would feel really bad if she blasted the man with pepper spray if he truly had nothing to do with her arousal and almost-orgasm. If that were true, though, how did he know that she was a bubbling caldron of lust? Why did he suggest he could fix it if he wasn’t at least partially to blame for it? Perhaps the man was delusional. That would explain him singing in a dive bar and not out on the town with a model-perfect girlfriend.
She glanced a few times over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been followed, and took a deep breath when she pushed her way outdoors. By the time she made it through the crowd and into the parking lot she felt completely normal. The arousal she’d felt inside the bar had dwindled to a faint increase in her heartbeat. Her mind was clear and she was ready to put the whole night behind her. She could look at it like a funny story to tell friends. Remember that guy who tried to drug me after humming an Italian love song in my ear.
Renae unlocked her car with a beep. Just before pulling the door open she was wrapped in a tight embrace. A strong arm wound around her waist, slamming her back against a solid male chest. The other arm banded across her chest and squeezed the breath from her lungs. She squeaked in fear, terror bloomed quickly in her body, adrenaline burned through her veins. She tried to drag in enough oxygen to scream, but the arms around her body grasped her tight enough to restrict her breathing. Her instincts took over, slamming her head back into her captor, kicking backwards, wiggling, squirming, anything to get free. Nothing loosened his hold on her, she was trapped. Her mind blanked. Her heart was racing, pushing blood too quickly through expanding blood vessels. Adrenaline surged through her body, sharpening her senses and sending her senses into overdrive. Her body wanted to run, hide, escape.
“Be still, dearest Renae. I will not harm you, but you are too much of a mystery to me and I find I need to solve it.”