Showing posts with label Lyrical Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lyrical Press. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

NetGalley REVIEW - Blitz - Beneath the Night (The Cities Below, #3) by Jen Colly

Beneath the Night
The Cities Below, #3
by Jen Colly
Date of Publication:  April 18th 2017
Publisher: Kensington/Lyrical
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Tagline: Sometimes survival means surrendering everything . . .
The Book Junkie Reads . . . Review of . . . BENEATH THE NIGHT (The Cities Below, #3) . . . Much has changed and there are other things on this rising that has never before been there. TEMPTATION with fiery hair and explosive blood, Cat could be the undoing of this lord in more ways than he, Navarre, could have imagined. Who will be doing the surrendering? Survival for them both was at stake. This was a direction for the series that keeps pace with the previous reads. It gives and takes. It adds and replenishes the series with more direction and adventure.  I found Cat to be worth her weight in courage, sacrifice, confidence, temptation, and strength. Navarre could never have gotten a better partner to move on through life. She was it. Cat was the soul of this read. She makes it that much more.

The Cities Below series:
In the Dark –  The Cities Below, #1
Bound – The Cities Below, #2
Beneath the Night – The Cities Below, #3

BLURB
Lord Navarre Casteel wakes from a long sleep to find the vampire city he rules forever changed and his future in the hands of a mysterious beauty who offers her life for his. Fiery-haired Cat survives his feeding, fueling Navarre's body and mind-as well as his suspicion that she is one of the Forbidden-a lethal mix of vampire and human blood. Yet that doesn't stop the throb of Navarre's desire, the feeling that she is destined to be his mate, to hell with consequences. . . .

A solitary fighter sworn to protect the children in her charge, Cat never expects to feel so much for Navarre in the face of his savage feeding. Which is why his offer of protection is nearly her undoing. For how can she let down her guard when she has always walked alone? But Cat has never faced an enemy like the one she faces now, never felt such a powerful need to surrender to the force of love . . .
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This was the royal storage, and the Guardians would be here any moment. Treasures from all over Europe had been covered, hidden from view, while others lay exposed, collecting layers of dust. A gold, jewel-encrusted urn half the size of a man glinted in the dim light seeping from beneath the door. A golden yellow chaise in Greek styling was half hidden beneath a sheet, the craftsmanship elaborate. Yes, Savard grew nervous when Guardians were scheduled to enter this room, but theft was not his fear, nor was the handling of such priceless artifacts.
He’d have given his life to protect what was beyond the row of five large French curio cabinets in the corner of the attic. Savard slipped into Spirit long enough to move through a curio, and once inside the makeshift seclusion, returned to his true form. Here, easily hidden behind the towering cabinets, was the most priceless treasure in Balinese.
Navarre Casteel, the true lord of Balinese, lay motionless on a small bed, trapped in a deep healing sleep. Not waking, not dying.
Navarre had fallen in the demon attack nearly seven years ago. A demon’s blade had pierced his chest, and from what they could tell, nicked his heart. Navarre had slipped into a healing sleep, his body shutting down to repair from the inside out. After that point, nothing could be done to help him. Their lord would have to heal on his own, or not at all.
Every day since, Savard expected his lord’s death, even planned for the loss. It never happened. Months had passed. Years. Seven years of total stillness.
The padlock outside the door rattled, the heavy hinge laid back against the door. Then the large wooden slide latch was moved, wood scraping wood, until the handle hit the end of its range with a solid thud.
Savard knelt beside the bed and took his lord’s lifeless hand in both of his, ready to weather the brief intrusion, prepared to Spirit Navarre away should it become necessary.
The hinges on the thick door creaked as it opened. The Guardians stepped inside, flipped on the lights. Boots scuffed the uneven floorboards beneath their feet, and long, purposeful strides quickly carried them deeper inside the room.
“There it is,” Dyre said, his young, smooth voice trapped in the low ceiling of the attic. “It doesn’t appear heavy, only awkward.”
“Why are we putting an empty birdcage outside the dining hall?” Cat said, suspicion bleeding through her tone.
The presence of these two was unexpected. As arena Guardians, Titus and Graydon often drew the short straw, being sent on random missions that sometimes involved moving furniture. Not today. Somehow Dyre and Cat had taken their place.
“Don’t ask, just do,” Dyre said.
“Ugh.” She exaggerated the guttural sound. “I hate your motto. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not my motto,” Dyre said, the effort of sliding wooden furniture across the floor temporarily halting his speech. “And you seem to like it just fine when you’re the one barking orders.”
“Fair enough,” she said, relenting.
Savard smiled slightly, shaking his head. In public those two barely spoke a word to each other, and after the parade of Guardian partners Cat had gone through, he never would have thought Dyre would be the one she’d accept. But then, Dyre was one of the few able to bring her unpredictable temper down to at least a simmer.
“Here, take this end,” Dyre directed. “I’ll go down the stairs backward.”
“You think I can’t go backward?” Cat snapped at him, instantly geared up for a fight, offended her partner might find her lacking.
“No,” he said calmly, his tone hinting at simple honesty. “I think you’re short.”
If Cat gave him a response, Savard didn’t hear it. Boots scuffled across the floor, the lights went out and the door closed, the bolt slid home, and the padlock clunked into place. The room was left in silence once again. Savard peeked through a crack between the dressers to make certain they’d left.
Turning Navarre’s hand over, Savard pressed his fingertips to his lord’s exposed inner wrist. As he did with each visit, Savard searched for a pulse, craved confirmation that Navarre still lived. Beneath his fingers, the normally slow, lurching rhythm of Navarre’s pulse seemed to have sped up. Not rapid or racing, but simply stronger. This could be his body’s last surge of energy before death. Savard looked at Navarre’s face, fearing it might be the last time.
Navarre, still deep in a healing sleep, turned his face slightly toward the door. He wasn’t dying. He was waking.
“Oh, God. It’s her.” Jaw slack, Savard sank back onto his heels.
He shoved his hair off his face. How had he not seen this connection? When Cat had first arrived on the night of the attack, he hadn’t known what to do with her. He’d put her in one of Navarre’s extra homes. That home was on the floor beneath this attic, not terribly far from where Navarre lay sleeping.
Most vampires could recognize the beckoning call of their fated mate. Supposedly, though he’d never seen it happen, the presence of your mate could even negate the deadly call of the sun. Her proximity was most likely the only reason Navarre still clung to life. Cat must be his mate. If so, then she was the key to Navarre’s awakening. Ironically, her continued presence in the city was contingent upon Navarre allowing her to stay once he woke.
Plans quickly took form now that Savard at long last had a clear solution. If Navarre’s condition was going to change, it would happen tonight. He would make it happen tonight.
While this new development should bring elation, Savard’s skin crawled with a morbid anticipation. Something unstoppable was happening in the world around him, a life-altering force headed his way. He’d felt this same unease the night he’d become lord, an awareness that he balanced at the top of a mountain and would soon fall. He just didn’t know in which direction.
Buy Links:
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Author Info
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series: The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires.

She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.
Author Links:
5 ecopies of Beneath the Night
3 ecopies Bound (The Cities Below, book 2)
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Tuesday, February 7, 2017

RELEASE DAY BLITZ w/NetGalley REVIEW - Bound (The Cities Below, #2) by Jen Colly

Bound 
The Cities Below, #2
by Jen Colly
Published by: Kensington/Lyrical Press
Publication date: January 31st 2017
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Romance
 Survival is a skill, love is a weapon, and the most dangerous act is to care for another.

From The Book Junkie Reads . . . Bound (The Cities Below, #2) . . .

There was a lot her for someone that has not read the first book of this series. I was still drawn in by the secrecy, deceit, backhanded ways, the court life, the life of an assassins, the demons, intrigue, kidnapping, assaults, drama, plots. There was just so much and I just had a hard time putting it down. The danger. The slowing building romance. The everything. I found more than just Keir and Cleo. The world itself was a central figure throughout the story. I anticipate reading more and going back to read book one.

The Cities Below series:
In the Dark – The Cities Below, #1
Bound – The Cities Below, #2
Beneath the Night – The Cities Below, #3   coming April 2017 

BLURB
The streets are a battleground for humans, vampires, and demons alike—where survival is a skill, love is a weapon, and the most dangerous act is to care for another . . .

Keir is an assassin devoted to Lady Arianne, the last of her royal bloodline. He is sworn to protect her, and that means eliminating any threat to her life. But while on a mission, he is set upon by a pack of demons, barely escaping with his life.

Cleopatra lives by a set of rules so rigid she no longer knows her true self. But her kind and loving nature resurfaces when she finds a man, bloodied and dying. Moved to help him, she risks her future and her life to save a stranger far below her aristocratic station.

Their attraction to each other is as powerful as it is forbidden. But even as their love grows, Keir keeps his true identity a secret—and this lie is not the only threat to their love . . . or their lives.
Buy Links:
Kensington    Amazon    B & N
iTunes    Google Play    Kobo

Sequel to:
23290569
Cleopatra was utterly trapped. She longed to close her eyes and block him out, but fear of the unknown kept them wide open. The man had no weapon, couldn’t possibly mean to harm her. Except, would he really need a weapon? She couldn’t fight him, wouldn’t even know where to begin.
He studied her closely, and when his head tilted slightly, she noticed every bit of his focus fixated on her neck. Not a murderer. He wanted to mark her, to bite her neck, leave the wound to heal and forever bind her to him. This was why daughters of the aristocracy were kept under a tight watch. The mark, unbreakable and indisputable, would give this man access to her family’s wealth and prestige, and bind her to him until death.
He reached for her, head descending to her neck. Cleopatra quickly covered his target with both hands. Tears gathered in her eyes, sorrow distorted her voice. “I don’t want this. Please, don’t hurt me.”
The man rocked back as if she’d smacked him, and for the first time since he’d appeared, he looked at her face. His eyes met hers and didn’t look away as he brought his hand to her cheek and brushed away a tear. He saw her, truly saw her, and the adoration in his eyes sent a completely different shimmy down her spine.
In one step, he crowded her, pressing his cheek against hers. “Could never hurt you. My angel,” his captivating voice crooned, so close to her ear. He drew in a deep breath, his face buried in her hair. Then he whispered, “My Cleo.”
She gasped. The shortened version of her name on his lips sounded strangely intimate, as though he’d known her for years. The warmth rolling off his body kept her intensely aware of his close proximity, and she held her breath, waiting for his next move to prove his intent. He didn’t bite her, didn’t hurt her, and the sincere affection in his gentle touch left her so very confused. Any other man would have bitten her, taken advantage of the opportunity laid before him. But this man? His intent to bite her had been unmistakable, and he’d stopped because he…cared for her? She didn’t understand.
His hand slipped from her face, dropped to his side, and he staggered back, moving as if through a dream. He still watched her, but he swayed, that intense focus suddenly gone. The man crumpled to the floor with a heavy thud.
Dragging in a long, shaky breath, she blinked away tears she’d been staring through. A few more deep breaths, and she allowed herself to really look at him. He lay on his side, knees slightly curled, motionless. Something was wrong with him. People didn’t just fall over.
Gripping the railing, which had swiftly become her personal anchor, she pointed her foot and gingerly nudged his arm. When he didn’t move, she put more force behind the kick. Cleopatra jumped as his hand fell away from his ribs, thumping onto the floor. Blood coated his fingers.
He was bleeding? She’d missed the injury completely. The saturated, glistening spot had been hidden under his hand and camouflaged by his black button-up shirt. He’d been so close and she hadn’t… She glanced down at herself. Blood streaked across her pale blue gown, more evidence of his severe injury.
The elevator doors slid open. Oh God, if someone were to see them together in this state, what would they think? What would happen to her, or to him? Her heart hammered, panic flooding through her as she peeked out into the main corridor of Sterling.
The white, gold-trimmed corridor stretched on, empty. The elevator doors slid shut, and there it would stay, unless called. She might not have much time. Peering down at the unconscious man, she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.
She’d mistaken his intent. He’d needed sustenance badly, and now he bled out, dying at her feet. Because of who she was, he refused to harm her, to take from her. How did he have the willpower to block his instincts from taking over, to stop from feeding?
Whoever he was, she had to save him. She dropped to her knees and pushed away any lingering fear under her newfound resolve. Tugging his shirt from his dark jeans, she searched for the injury. In the midst of his blood-slicked skin, the wound gaped open between his ribs. It looked like he’d been slashed, the nasty gash a result of being on the wrong end of a knife. Just a guess. She had no experience with this sort of villainy.
Her hand flew to her mouth. The murderer running loose in Galbraith used a knife. Could this man be yet another victim?
“Can you hear me? What happened to you? Who did this?” She awkwardly patted his whiskered cheek. His eyes fluttered open, then shut again.
“Balinese is safe.” His voice trembled, his words slurred without support from his shallow breath. “Paris. Demons.”
Cleopatra’s fingers fumbled as she pulled away his shirt collar. Several teeth-like gouges in his shredded skin oozed blood near his collarbone. Demons. They’d almost made a meal of him, and he was a bloody mess, but the real danger came from that knife wound. It looked deep, and if he’d been damaged internally and lost too much blood, he might not survive.
He needed blood now. She bit her wrist and pressed it against his mouth. His lips didn’t part, and his body refused to respond. A rivulet of blood slid down his cheek. He’d die if she didn’t fight for him.
Buy Links:
Kensington    Amazon    B & N
iTunes    Google Play    Kobo
 
Author Info
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series: The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires.

She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.
Author Links:
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Wednesday, January 11, 2017

NetGalley - Sweet Southern Hearts (Willow Hill, #3) by Susan Schild

Sweet Southern Hearts
Willow Hill, #3
by Susan Schild
Releasing January 11th 2017
Lyrical Press

Susan Schild welcomes you back to the offbeat Southern town of Willow Hill, North Carolina, for a humorous, heartwarming story of new beginnings, do-overs, and self-discovery… 

 

From The Book Junkie Reads . . . Sweet Southern Hearts (Willow Hill, #3) . . .

Obstacles, road blocks, family & friends all should be in the past since the wedding has taken place and now it’s time for their honeymoon. Linny and Jack have finally got their happily ever after or at least it was supposed to be that way. The wedding was behind them it was honeymoon time. That was until a phone call. After the phone call things for the honeymooning couple takes on a character of fun, excitement, and entertainment. Through it all you had to feel with and for Linny. She was the champ of this one. She stood by everyone that needed her for something or another.

This was one sweet southern American romance with the fact that family really did exists. Susan Schild put her spin a happily ever after for a woman that has had her share of upset, heartbreak, life changing events. With the help and support of the very family and friends that were there for their dating, proposal, wedding planning, and the wedding gives the final installment rich character, enchanting scenes, and a bit of extra southern flavor. Family and friends are an American Southern staple. This read gives you that and more.
Willow Hill series:
Linny’s Sweet Dream List – Willow Hill, #1
Sweet Carolina Morning – Willow Hill, #2
Sweet Southern Hearts – Willow Hill, #3

BLURB
When it comes to marriage, third time’s the charm for Linny Taylor. She’s thrilled to be on her honeymoon with Jack Avery, Willow Hill’s handsome veterinarian. But just like the hair-raising white water rafting trip Jack persuades her to take, newlywed life has plenty of dips and bumps.

Jack’s twelve-year-old son is resisting all Linny’s efforts to be the perfect stepmother, while her own mother, Dottie, begs her to tag along on the first week of a free-wheeling RV adventure. Who knew women “of a certain age” could drum up so much trouble? No sooner is Linny sighing with relief at being back home than she’s helping her frazzled sister with a new baby…and dealing with an unexpected legacy from her late ex. Life is fuller—and richer—than she ever imagined, but if there’s one thing Linny’s learned by now, it’s that there’s always room for another sweet surprise… 

“This charming and well observed novel about finding the courage to love after loss will make you smile as well as cry more than a few happy tears.  Be prepared for a story of true tenderness, humor, and sometimes nail biting tension. Sweet Southern Hearts delivers all this and more.” --Holly Chamberlin, author of Summer with my Sisters
Buy Links:
Amazon | B & N | Google | iTunes | Kobo

Jack stepped inside and gave her a wry grin. “I just texted Vera and told her the fighting was upsetting Neal and that we were coming home early to take him for a few days. I didn’t ask her, I told her. That should set off a firestorm.” He grimaced and held up his phone. “The furious calls should start in four, three, two, one…”
Linny stood with a hand on her hip, sent him a crooked smile, and waited. The phone rang, its tone sounding more shrill and urgent than it usually did.
Jack rolled his eyes, turned it off, and slipped it in his pocket.
Despite knowing that going home was the best thing to do, as they wound down the mountain in the truck, Linny fantasized about what it would be like to deal less with Vera, if just for a little while. Maybe she and Chaz would get a sudden burning desire to live off the grid for a year to fix their marriage. They'd move to a cabin with no plumbing in Talkeetna, Alaska. Normal-looking couples did it all the time on all those Alaska shows Jack and Neal watched. Vera and Chaz could re-bond while chopping firewood and fixing their broken snowmobile, which they urgently needed to go into town to get much-needed supplies because a blizzard was fast approaching. For one long moment Linny imagined how serene life would be with Vera in Talkeetna. She and Jack could walk together through a field of wildflowers, each holding one of Neal’s hands—something the boy would never allow them to do. Bluebirds and hummingbirds would fly around them.
Flushing guiltily, she glanced at Jack as though he could read her mind, but he was flipping down the sun visor. Linny blew out a sigh. Glumly, she stared out the window. She didn’t really wish for that Alaskan adventure for Vera. Neal really needed his mother and he’d grown to love his stepfather, Chaz, too.
Linny and Jack were quiet for much of the long drive home from the mountains to Willow Hill. Even her Technicolor daydream of Vera battling icy winds as she trudged to the outhouse in fifty below weather didn't cheer her up. Linny was just too disappointed to make conversation. Jack looked pensive, the muscles in his jaw working.
Her phone rang and she glanced at the screen. It was Ruby, one of her mother, Dottie’s, two best friends. Had something happened to Mama? Her stomach tightened as she pictured her mother lying on the floor like that woman on the TV commercial who lived alone and didn’t have the emergency clicker necklace.
But Ruby sounded cheery. “Hi, sweetheart. Hope you’re just walking on air now that you’re freshly married. You tell that handsome hunk of a husband of yours that I said hey.” Ruby had been a looker in her heyday and still had a flirty streak.
Linny breathed out. This wasn’t a meet-me-at-the-emergency-room call. She called to
 Jack, “Ruby says hey, you handsome hunk of a husband.”
Jack shook his head, but his mouth crooked up.
“We’re at your mama’s house and you need to talk to her,” Ruby said. “For weeks now we girls have been planning to go to the RV show at the Civic Center to make a final decision about what kind of camper or RV we want to rent for our trip. We’re fixing to get in the car to go and now she’s making all kinds of excuses for staying home. This is the last day of the show,” Ruby said, sounding exasperated.
Since coming to terms with learning that her late husband had had a longtime mistress, her mother had shaken off her dour, church lady demeanor and blossomed. She’d given up the yard sale habit that bordered on hoarding, taken a two-week Caribbean cruise with her girlfriends, and was now seeing a charming older man named Mack whom she’d met on the ship. Oh, and Dottie—a card-carrying Baptist and member of the Sisters of Dorcas ladies’ prayer circle—had won $250,000 on the nickel slots on the ship. So, emboldened with her first big vacation, Mama and her two friends had cooked up this RV adventure they called their “trip to see the US of A.” It was all the three of them had talked about for months.
 “Let me talk to her,” a woman’s voice said insistently. Linny heard a fumbling as the phone changed hands. “Dessie here,” said her mother’s other best friend, in her usual brisk tone. “This is the second time she’s backed out of the RV show. Yesterday she said her feet were hurting her and today she’s claiming her sugar’s high.”
Linny paused a beat, baffled. “She doesn’t have bad feet or sugar problems.”
“We know,” Dessie said drily.
“Can you put her on the phone?” Linny asked, rubbing the spot on her temple that had begun to throb. What was going on?
More fumbling sounds, and the phone clattered as it dropped to the floor. Dessie picked back up. “Your mama doesn’t feel like talking right now. She and Curtis are going in to take a little lie down.”
Linny wondered again how her mother could get any sleep at all sharing her bed with Curtis, her 170-pound Great Dane. But maybe Dottie really wasn’t well. “Dessie, does she seem sick? Should you run her by the urgent care?”
Dessie said, “We ate lunch at Captain Finn’s Seafood and she had the First Mate’s Special with an extra order of shrimp and lemon chess pie for dessert.”  She chuckled. “So her appetite’s fine and her color is good, too. You ask me, I think she’s just got a case of nerves.”
“Nerves about what?” Linny asked, coming up empty when she tried to think of any stressors in her mother’s peaceful life and remembered all the unexpected happiness that had been showered upon her over the last year.
Dessie’s voice was back at a normal decibel level and extra bright. “Well, we’re real glad you had a good visit to the mountains and we can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Her mother must have come back within earshot. Scanning the highway for signs, she saw they were almost to Greensboro. “Dessie, you and Ruby go on to the RV show yourselves and do reconnaissance for your trip. Jack and I are coming back early from the mountains and we’ll be home in two hours. Tell Mama I’ll stop by to see her this evening.”
“I will, honey, and you two drive safe.” Dessie ended the call.
“What’s wrong with your mama?” Jack asked, his eyes lit with concern.
“Not sure. The girls don’t think it’s anything serious, but I’ll run by and check on her. Dessie said it could be nerves.” She turned her hands palms up. “About what I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
Buy Links:
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Author Info
Susan Schild writes wholesome and sunny Southern fiction. She likes stories about charming men, missing money, adventuresome women, sweet dogs, and happily ever afters at any age.

Susan is a wife and a stepmother. She enjoys rummaging through thrift store for treasures like four dollar cashmere sweaters and amateur watercolor paintings. She likes taking walks with her Lab mix, Tucker, and his buddies. She and her family live in North Carolina.

Susan has used her professional background as a psychotherapist and a management consultant to add authenticity to her characters.
SWEET SOUTHERN HEARTS, the final book in the Willow Hill series, will be released in January of 2017. Readers can look forward to more adventures, new beaus, sinister ministers, lovebirds over fifty, a road trip for Mama and her pals, and maybe even an “I Do”...or two.

You can follow Susan on Facebook, Twitter and on her website or subscribe to her quarterly newsletter for inside scoop, sneak peeks and giveaways.
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