J.D.R. Hawkins

One bullet can make a man a hero… or a casualty.

Archive for the tag “b00k r3vi3w Tours”

Release Day – All Kinds of Wrong

What does a lifestyle guru do when her life starts to fall apart?

Alia Dubey is being stalked. The problem is no one believes her. Not the cops, not her family…and well, she doesn’t really have any friends.

Until the day her sister calls in a favour and asks her friend from the Intelligence Bureau to check on Alia and the gifts she’s been receiving.

Officer Avinash Rathore has better things to do than babysit a spoilt socialite with delusions of danger. Until he walks in to find her home broken into and an innocuous bouquet of red roses placed there. While everything points to an obsessed lover, Avinash’s instincts are screaming that there is more at play.

The gifts keep arriving, escalating from roses to far more sinister things…each with an intimate note hinting at a personal agenda. But whose?

The police have a primary suspect – Alia herself. They’re convinced she’s mentally ill and the one planting the evidence that points to a stalker.

But Avinash knows there is more. Far from mentally ill, the ditzy socialite he’d expected to meet is incisively intelligent, staggeringly attractive and devastatingly dangerous to his otherwise sensible mind.

They find themselves in a race against an unknown opponent who has only one thing in their mind – to destroy Alia’s life and leave her standing in the ruins.

And then Alia goes missing. And Avinash realizes that he stands to lose not just the race but, everything. For the ditzy socialite, the one who is All Kinds of Wrong for him is suddenly the only one who can make his world Right again.

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read an Excerpt from All Kinds of Wrong

Red roses. There were twelve long stemmed, perfectly budded red roses in her drawing room. Inside her locked drawing room. The lock to which only she had the key. 

Alia Dubey’s heart raced as she considered the quiet, empty space around her. This home was her haven. Until now. Her hand fumbled for the switch to the lights flooding the room with more light than necessary at this early part of the evening. 

She couldn’t see anyone but that didn’t mean anything. She more than anyone else knew the truth of that. She moved as silently as possible towards her hall cupboard and looked for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her enviable shoe collection looked back at her. They were very sexy but that didn’t help her right now. Except…

Hoisting her knee-high stiletto boot over one shoulder, Alia slowly moved around her flat. She moved from room to room, switching on the lights and being met with only silence and empty spaces. She opened cupboards, looked under beds, followed every tip she’d imbibed from every horror movie she’d watched and nothing. Whoever had left those flowers behind was gone. Leaving only this sickly fear behind. 

“Excuse me?” 

Alia shrieked and turned, flinging the boot in her hand on instinct. It hit the head of the man standing in the middle of her drawing room with a satisfying crunch. 

“Bloody hell,” he exploded, holding one hand to his forehead and glaring at her.

“I’m calling the cops,” she screeched. “Right now.” 

He held his hands out in a gesture of surrender, a trickle of blood making its way from his forehead to his eye. 

“I’m Avinash Rathore, your sister Aria’s friend.” 

The name rang a dim bell. One of her sister’s boyfriend Karan’s colleagues and friends. 

“What are you doing in my living room?” she asked him suspiciously. 

“I’m in Mumbai on holiday for the next month. Aria asked me to check in on you. She said you’ve been having some issues?”

She stared at him, looking unconvinced. 

“Look,” he said, completely stone faced. “If you promise not to throw another shoe at me, I’ll show you some ID and maybe you can call your sister and check?” 

Alia nodded slowly, still more than a little freaked out at this man’s sudden appearance in her home. 

He handed her his driver’s license which had his name and the worst photo she’d ever seen of any human being. He looked like a chimp that had lost its way in the evolution path. 

She dialed her sister, one eye still on the strange man standing in the middle of her cream shag carpet. She eyed his dusty sports shoes doubtfully. 

“Would you mind standing to the side?” she asked, politely, as the phone rang in her ear. She didn’t want to be removing his brown footprints from her gorgeous carpet. 

He looked down and then back at her. A small twist of his lips and he moved off the carpet to the marbled flooring. 

She heaved a sigh of relief just as Aria picked up. 

“You sent someone by the name of Avinash Rathore to my house?” she asked without preamble even as the man’s eyebrows rose in response to her brusque tone. 

“That someone is one of the most respected agents in the Intelligence Agency and one of my closest friends,” Aria’s dry voice came through. “Behave yourself Als. I’ll come there and throttle you if you’re rude to him.” 

Good thing Alia wasn’t scared of her big sister, she thought as she watched the blood still trickling down his temple. 

“Why did you send him here?” 

“I told him about your stalker problem which the cops aren’t taking seriously and asked if he could help me out as a favour.” Aria’s voice had gone very quiet. “I’m worried about you okay? And there is no one I trust more than Avinash to help. Please let him.” 

 Alia murmured something in agreement and disconnected. The strange guy was still standing in the middle of her drawing room, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, blood trickling down his face, looking completely out of place. 

“Maybe,” Alia cleared her throat. “we should start over. I’m Alia Dubey, Aria’s sister.” 

“Avinash Rathore, Karan and Aria’s friend,” he smiled. 

And her breath caught. That slow, small smile transformed the man’s otherwise ordinary face. 

Alia ruthlessly squashed that softening in her heart. 

“How did you get into my house?” she asked, her tone bordering on rude.

His smile disappeared, a lone eyebrow rose. “You left the front door open. I called out but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

No. No, she hadn’t. She’d been too busy pretending she was a ninja warrior. Alia’s gaze went back to the roses. 

God, she was in trouble. 

Across from her, the man watched her carefully. 

Big Trouble.

About the Author:

Shilpa Suraj wears many hats – corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.Contact the Author:
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Newsletter

Book Tour – Operation Turquoise (The Mavericks #1)

One is a brave soldier, the other a deadly terrorist. A camera will decide which man survives.

The Major is a seasoned field agent, and neutralising a target is routine for him. But everything about Operation Turquoise, from the target to the weapon, is disturbingly unconventional. Alone in a foreign country, the Major must execute each stage of his mission with utmost precision. There is no Plan B.

The Poet has a way with words—and warfare. His voice echoes in thousands of homes worldwide, yet few have ever seen him. Endowed with a sharp mind and evil intent, the Poet has orchestrated many spectacular terror attacks in Asia and Africa. His latest mission has the Indian intelligence fraternity on its toes.

Ridden with risks, Operation Turquoise will bring the two men head to head—and only one will survive.

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Meet The Major from Operation Turquoise

The Major, 6.2’ lean and fit with short black hair, was like any regular Indian man, unless he was on duty; then he became the job.

Along with hundreds of pumped up youth in their late teens, he became a gentleman cadet at the National Defence Academy (NDA) just before the 80s decade ended. It was a career decision like becoming a doctor or engineer for him. But his training at the academy transformed him for life. His profession became more than a mere job to him.

Every time he donned the crisp green army uniform, his soul took on a new life. Any task assigned to him become a responsibility he had to fulfil, irrespective of the odds. 

As a young lieutenant, eager to challenge his own abilities, he volunteered to become a Special Forces Paratrooper. This required another year of intense training.

The opportunity to join the Special Group, India’s secret special force unit that took on assignments that the government could not acknowledge, came soon after. Completing the additional training and becoming a member of Col Bhatti’s team of Special Group soldiers known as the Mavericks was the single most cherished accomplishment of his life.

It was also the decision that put an almost definite expiry date on his life.

Now the tasks that he undertook were not only dangerous but also top secret. The day he failed at an operation, that day he ceased to exist. But this reality didn’t deter him or weaken his resolve because his failure also meant the success of a serious threat to India’s national security. As long as he breathed, he could not let that happen.

For Operation Turquoise, he found himself in the land of the Pharaohs disguised as a tourist but he had no time for sightseeing. He had to hunt a man who had not been sighted in years.

From his NDA days, he was known for his ability to disguise himself. On this mission, this skill was put to the ultimate test. His disguise had to work for his mission to succeed. Being a Krav Maga expert, hand-to-hand combat was another one of his strengths that came in handy when an unexpected development threatened to derail the mission. 

While among friends and colleagues, he was a regular person who cribbed about cancelled leaves and poorly planned field operations. He criticised aspects of the armed forces he found wanting and had realistic expectations about what the government of India could offer him in lieu of field support.

He was single, and had always worked in an all-male environment. Even the mention of a woman in the background made him doubt the credibility of the plan for the mission. But no matter what his misgivings, once given a responsibility he makes it his mission to complete it. 

About the Author:

Rani Ramakrishnan writes contemporary thriller novels. In another lifetime, she was an entrepreneur, a management professional, a trainer, even an author of study materials for distance education. She is an occasional blogger and a regular bookworm. Two things influence her writing: people she met and the places she has visited.

She lives in Coimbatore, a picturesque city on the foothills of the Nilgiri Mountains, in South India. She loves the outdoors and of late, she has developed a healthy passion for marathons.

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Instagram

Release Blitz – Once Upon a Scandal

A moment of passion, a devastating scandal and a marriage between sworn enemies…

Aakash Thakkar knows his path. Family, duty, responsibility, tradition. His path does not lead to madness, chaos, wild passionate steamy nights, and her. Or so he tells himself.

Kanak Shourie lives for the present. Friends, fun, work, life. Her present does not include the weight of other people’s judgement, stuffy societal mores, discovering desire with uptight businessmen, and him. She refuses to believe otherwise.

What happens when the one you hate is the only one you want? What happens when you try to right a wrong but end up in something that feels more right than anything ever has?

Can Aakash and Kanak bury a lifetime of distrust and forge a life together? Or will the reasons that had them battling each other for years bury their tentative new beginning?

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read an Excerpt from Once Upon a Scandal

Kanak gasped as his lips trailed a slow, sensual line of kisses down her neck. Her eyes closed and her head fell back giving him better access. 

He growled in approval, the sound thrumming through her. She fumbled with the buttons of his white shirt, her hand slipping through the gap and finding hard, firm, muscled skin. Her fingernails did a slow circle around his flat nipple making him nip her on her shoulder.

Her dazed eyes met his stormy ones, disbelieving, intense and confused. He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss that solved her confusion, once and for all. 

She wanted this man, more than she’d ever wanted another. And she couldn’t deny it anymore. She fisted her hands in the thick, rough silk of his hair and pulled him impossibly closer. 

Their tongues met, dueled, and stroked making her moan, the breath of sound disappearing between his lips. He ground his hips against her, the movement making her legs fall apart, the better to cradle him with. 

The rough concrete behind her back scraped her skin but she couldn’t have cared less. But his hands slipped between the wall and her and flipped her over so his back was against it. She landed against the hard length of him, her hips doing an unconscious roll that had his head falling back.

She unzipped his pants, her fingers slipping in, searching and finding the hot silken steel of him. He cursed brokenly, his hips arching into her touch. She smiled, the heady rush of power over such a powerful man spooling through her. 

Until his hands cupped her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head, pleasure swamping her and making it hard to focus. He dipped his head and took her breast in his mouth, the material of her flimsy dress damp in seconds from his attentions. His other hand pinched, fondled and stroked the other breast until her legs quivered. 

Kanak stroked harder, desperate for him to not stop what he was doing. He didn’t seem to want to anyway. He pulled her dress up, above her hips, the cool night breeze caressing her thighs and making her shiver. 

Kanak shoved frantically at his pants, pushing until she got what she wanted. It sprang free and she wrapped her hands around it, fisting it. 

The flash when it came lit up the darkness around them. Their small corner suddenly blindingly bright. He reacted with startling swiftness, spinning her so she was covered by the bulk of his body, unseen by whoever was out there. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growled over his shoulder, his furious laser like gaze sending a shiver down Kanak’s spine even though it wasn’t directed at her. 

Nervous laughter was the only answer. And then, another bright flash. 

“I am going to kill you,” he said conversationally to the person behind him.

In a matter of seconds, he tucked himself back into his pants and straightened Kanak’s dress with a deceptive calm. When he turned, still keeping Kanak hidden behind him, she heard the photographer squeak. 

“Give me your camera.” The words were soft, calm and deadly. The tone usually what you heard before you died. 

“No.” The man with the death wish giggled and moved back, out of his reach. “This is going to make me rich. And not just the photographs man. I got video too and it’s not on this camera. It’s with my friend who is already gone. You can’t catch him.” Another giggle. 

And before either of them could react, he disappeared into the dark. 

Ice slid through Kanak’s veins. What had she done? What had she allowed to happen? A sex tape of her on the internet, splashed across the tabloids, a sex tape with him…

“I will fix this,” he said, the same ice in his voice except his was directed at the mystery photographer. “I promise you.” 

She wanted to believe him. She almost did but Kanak knew that some things were out of even his control. 

A sex tape. Her head spun at the enormity of this fiasco. A sex tape with Aakash Thakkar, big shot industrialist, rising political power, and her number one enemy. 

She was screwed and she knew it. 

About the Author:

Shilpa Suraj wears many hats – corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.

Contact the Author:
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Newsletter

Release Day Blitz – Vive La Résistance (Donovan Trait#3) by Seelie Kay

Things are gonna get messy…

An illegal union, a banned birth, a Great Lie, and now, genocide. Vampire lawyer Donovan Trait and his wife, chemically-turned Judge Shirley Magnusen, are battling for their lives and the lives of their children. The Vampire Coalition wants them dead, but now the despots have also decided to expand their net, targeting any vampire whose blood is mixed with human or Were. Half-bloods are already treated like dirt by the Vampire Nation. They have been subjected to centuries of discrimination and cruelty at their hands. As the Coalition embarks on a campaign of terror, destruction, and slaughter, millions of half-bloods emerge from the shadows, ready and willing to reclaim their place in the Vampire Nation. The problem is, war cannot be unleashed out in the open in the human world, battles must be fought in other ways. Even with an island of highly-skilled vampire nuns and a few Weres and humans at that their side, it appears the Traits may be fighting an unwinnable war. Their only option may be to sacrifice their own lives in the hopes of setting all other half-bloods free.

Book Links:

Extasy Books * Goodreads

Read an Excerpt from Vive La Résistance

Donovan shifted on the lounger and muttered incomprehensively, then he emitted a rumbling snore.

“Hey, y’all. So yeah, vampires are real and they’re not above doing the dirty to those who share their blood. Take a look at this.” The Tik-Tokker grinned. “You are not gonna believe it. It’s so shady.”

Video of the Coalition camps rolled across the screen. Occasionally, the camera zeroed in a dirty or bruised Millennial, or a guard pushing a group of people into a building, their ankles locked together with some sort of rope. They were seen eating off of metal plates and lined up to fill a metal cup with something from a barrel. It wasn’t water. The liquid was rust-colored and thick, like blood.

“And the dudes running the place have a Marie Antoinette fetish. You know—” The woman mimicked a knife across her throat. “Off with their heads?” She giggled.

A guillotine appeared on camera. About ten people were in line, each with a black hood over their heads and their arms bound behind them. One at a time, they were pushed onto a stage and forced to their knees, their necks positioned directly under the blade. With manic efficiency, a guard released the blade. Most heads flew into a barrel in front of the platform. The ones that rolled off onto the stage were kicked to their final destination. The headless bodies were tossed onto a pile on the ground.

“Oh, grosss,” the woman complained. She leaned toward the camera. “Kind of like a bad zombie movie, isn’t it?” She sat back in her chair and made a face. “Whatever. I mean, like, are we supposed to believe that’s really happening? Isn’t that against the law or something?” She cackled. “As if.” She leisurely stretched her body, her crop top exposing a belly button ring. “I’m so shook.”

The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Now, I’m not sharing this for the views. It is kind of sus. But if this shit is real, someone needs to get off the pot and do something about it. Aren’t there any woke cops out there who can play the James Bond card? Before anymore—” She swiped her finger across her throat and giggled. Then the screen went black.

Donovan shot up in his chair and blinked. Once. Twice. He shook his head and attempted to gather himself. What the hell? Sure, he had needed the sleep, even if it was only a thirty-minute nap, but the dreams he could do without. It had been less than forty-eight hours since the worldwide kidnappings. Donovan knew preparations for rescue were underway. But he also knew Bengotten and Hannigan were capable of even greater cruelty. He could only imagine the terror and the torture the victims were being subjected to. 

It was difficult to understand how the vampire world was capable of this. He had long prided himself on their natural superiority, their ability to rise up above the petty politics and unjustified violence in the human and Were worlds. Yet overnight, vampires had become the monsters, the tyrants capable of such evil. That astonished him. For the first time in his long existence, Donovan was ashamed of being a vampire. If it was possible, he might very well submit to being turned into a human or a Were. He buried his face in his hands. Yes, he could live as a human. Perhaps he could ask Dr. Alvarez to find a way to turn off his vampirism, maybe using the gene-editing Marilyn could not stop talking about.

 About Seelie Kay:

Award-winning author Seelie Kay writes about lawyers in love, sometimes with a dash of kink.

Writing under a nom de plume, the former lawyer and journalist draws her stories from more than 30 years in the legal world. Seelie’s wicked pen has resulted in nineteen works of fiction, including the new paranormal romance series Donovan Trait, as well the erotic romance Kinky Briefs series and The Feisty Lawyers romantic suspense series. She also authored The Last Christmas, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, The President’s Daughter, Seizing Hope, The White House Wedding, and participated in the romance anthology Pieces of Us.

When not spinning romantic tales, Seelie ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. Currently, she resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, WI, where she enjoys opera, the Green Bay Packers, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine. 

Seelie is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Seelie on the Web:
Website * Blog * Twitter * Facebook * Instagram * Author’s Amazon Page

99Cents Deal :: Imagine the Kiss (Crystal Creek Series #7) by Laura Haley

Available for 99 cents from 23rd till 29th May!

Two people open themselves to the truth and open themselves to each other.

Her marriage in ruins, violinist Teagan Whitloch Munroe escapes into her music and the solace she finds at the Crystal Creek Ranch. Practicing in the woods helps her piece together her life, but she isn’t alone. When she hears someone hiking nearby, she demands he reveal himself, but the only revelation she gets is a soothing voice that heals the pain in her heart.

Maimed by a crushing accident, the once famous architect Phineas St. Cyr protects the world from his disfigurement by sequestering himself in the woods on the Crystal Creek Ranch. When he hears the intoxicating strains from Teagan’s violin, he can’t resist the beauty that quiets his aching soul, and he yearns to know the woman who creates such beauty.

Teagan finds sanctuary in her friendship with this connoisseur of music, but soon realizes Phin’s hiding more than his hideous scars. As they become entangled with each other, Teagan is stunned to learn they share more than a love of music. They are caught in a web of deceit by someone threatening to reveal Phin’s secrets. His exposed past endangers Teagan, and he can no longer walk away. This time he must face the enemy determined to defeat him. He’ll fight to the finish to protect the woman he can never love. No price is too high to keep buried the secret that will mark Teagan for destruction.

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read an Excerpt from Imagine the Kiss

Chapter One

Teagan Whitloch Munroe was trembling. She was trembling, and she couldn’t stop. She’d been trembling for more than two hours—since she’d left the downtown Denver condominium she shared with her husband, Dr. Wilbert Munroe. What she’d seen inside the condo—in their bedroom—made her want to vomit. A cold knot of disgust and revulsion gripped her stomach.

When she’d walked into the master bedroom, she must’ve gasped. Will was lying on the bed, but he wasn’t alone. He’d lifted his head from the pillow. He looked right at her.

And swore.

He didn’t look surprised. He looked annoyed.

She’d pressed a hand over her mouth.

Blinded by tears, she’d backed into the doorjamb and stumbled into the hallway. She didn’t remember running out of the condo, but she must have. Her legs throbbed, and her chest ached. The only thing she remembered was her husband calling her name. What had he said? Let’s talk? She didn’t know if she should laugh or sob.

And she remembered the dulcet laughter of the naked woman who was servicing him in bed. Teagan’s and Will’s bed. Teagan had thought Ginny Andrews was her friend.

Some friend. Ginny who was svelte and toned. A contrast to Teagan who’d struggled with her weight since she was seven years old.

A shuddering breath rocked through Teagan’s lungs. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away.

She barely remembered driving to the Crystal Creek Ranch, throwing a saddle on her favorite horse, Champagne, and racing through the meadows until she reached the aspen forest covering Crystal Peak.

Fighting against the despair that filled her, she wrapped shaky fingers around the reins and urged the Arabian horse through the trees bursting with spring green leaves. Her vision blurred, and she tried to focus on the pink wild roses and purple elephant’s head mingling with the green undergrowth. The splashes of Crystal Creek tumbling over rocks sounded next to the trail. It was happy and musical and far from the darkness that crowded her heart. Her stomach roiled and begged to be emptied of the half sandwich she’d eaten during the orchestral rehearsal that afternoon.

She ran her hand over the horse’s neck damp from perspiration.

About the Author:

A native of California, Laura Haley-McNeil spent her youth studying ballet and piano, though her favorite pastime was curling up with a good book. Without a clue as to how to write a book, she knew one day she would.

After college, she segued into the corporate world, but she never forgot her love for the arts and served on the board of two community orchestras. Finally realizing that the book she’d dreamt of writing wouldn’t write itself, she planted herself in front of her computer. She now immerses herself in the lives and loves of her characters in her romantic suspense and her contemporary romance novels. Many years later, she lived her own romantic novel when she married her piano teacher, the love of her life.

Though she and her husband have left warm California for cooler Colorado, they enjoy the outdoor life of hiking, bicycling, horseback riding and snow skiing. They satisfy their love of music by attending concerts and hanging out with their musician friends, but Laura still catches a few free moments when she can sneak off and read. 

Laura on the Web:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Newsletter

Release Day Blitz – Once Upon a Mistake

There are no second chances, only missed ones…

Five years ago, an accident changed Maya’s life forever. From an engaged, MBA graduate with her entire life in front of her, she’d ended up dumped, bedridden, and in enough debt to drown her and her family.

Five years ago, Yash had been looking forward to marrying the woman of his dreams. Then his father died, he lost his job and his fiancee dumped him over a text.

Neither have forgiven each other and neither has forgotten the other. When their paths cross at Il Couer, a vineyard owned by common friends, sparks fly, past hurts are stoked and present dreams are destroyed.

And that is just the beginning. As their lives get entangled, both professionally and personally, they find themselves fighting familial disapproval, professional jealousy, and a mutual attraction that threatens to burn them down.

Can Maya and Yash ever unravel their tangled past? And will the truth of their past define or destroy them? Can you build a future on a posioned past? They’re about to find out…

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read an Excerpt from Once Upon A Mistake

The door slammed behind her and he heaved a sigh of relief. Peace and quiet at last. He put on his reading glasses, opened up the book and started to read.

And then he heard her laugh. He shouldn’t, he told himself. He really shouldn’t stand up and try to see where she was or what she was doing. Maya Patgaonkar was not someone he should be looking at or looking for or any other type of looking.

He got to his feet and walked to the balcony railing, peering out through the dusky light of early evening. He was definitely looking.

She was walking down the endlessly sloping green lawn with the guy she’d arrived with and another guy and girl. All four of them seemed to be talking at the same time, practically talking over each other.

Her hair was loose and hung in waves down her back. She wore a loose, floral skirt with a billowing white shirt that gave her a distinctly free, bohemian look. And she still limped.

Not a temporary thing then, this limp. Had she gotten it in the accident that had killed Vikram? Aakash’s bitter recounting of their wild night of debauchery that had ended in his brother’s death had been both sordid and distasteful.

It had also been deeply disturbing. That had not been the girl he’d thought he was marrying. Maybe her dumping him for being a penniless loser had been a true blessing in disguise. And yet, Yash continued to stand and watch her and her friends meander along in what was clearly an aimless walk.

Maya. The name resonated in his head. Almost as if she heard him, she turned, her gaze drawn to the house. He saw her scanning the side of the house facing them and was about to step back and out of sight when her gaze snagged on him.

The guy who’d arrived with her, Ved, said something to her and she responded but she didn’t look away.

The moment between them stretched into an eternity that should never have existed. His heart was thudding, a drumbeat that he didn’t want to hear but one that thrummed through his veins nevertheless.

She took a step toward him, a miniscule movement that nobody caught but him. It broke the spell. Yash stepped back and away from the railing, consciously turning away from her.

The few months they’d known each other had been a lasting lesson. Maya wouldn’t get another chance to play him for a fool again.

About the Author:

Shilpa Suraj wears many hats – corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.

Contact the Author:
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Newsletter

A Few Updates

I’d like to thank everyone who took the time last Tuesday to check out my post on the b00k r3vi3w Tourss book tour for my new novel, Double-Edged Sword. If you’d like to check out the other bloggers who participated, here is the link:

https://www.b00kr3vi3ws.in/2022/04/bookblitz-double-edged-sword-renegade-4.html

Some of the bloggers even posted a mini book trailer for the novel. Here’s the link to it:

https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=dcfad889c4&attid=0.1.1&permmsgid=msg-f:1731331053967453250&th=1806ec6bac552c42&view=att&disp=safe

The last time I checked, there were over 600,000 views! That was last Tuesday, so it’s probably over a million by now.

In other news, the book is now available for free on Kindle Unlimited (Amazon) for a limited time. And if you are interested in writing a review, I’d be more than happy to hear from you! Thanks again for all your support!

Book Blitz – Double-Edged Sword

Image
Image

The Civil War has ended.

Confederate cavalryman, David Summers, returns home to Alabama, taking his new wife, Anna, with him. Upon arrival, he understands how much the war has changed him and has scarred his homeland. Faced with challenges of transition, he learns how to navigate his new world, along with the pain and trauma of his past. He is also forced to confront his foes, including Stephen Montgomery. Their hatred for one another inevitably boils over into a fierce confrontation, whereby David is arrested.

Will the jury believe his side of the story, even though he is an ex-Confederate? Or will he be hung for his crime?

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read and Excerpt from Double-Edged Sword

David helped Anna down after tying the mule, and followed her inside. A lanky man who stood behind a counter looked up from the hotel register as they entered. David nodded to the man, led Anna into the dining hall, and sat down beside her at a small round table. Like before, the room was nearly unoccupied. Three Union officers sat in the far corner, drinking whiskey and smoking cigars. Two men stood near the back of the room. One was playing a fiddle while the other attempted to sing a slow ballad in a low, baritone voice. The room was bright with sunlight, and lace curtains hung over the long windows. A thin, balding gentleman with an apron wrapped tightly around his waist appeared, pencil and paper poised in his hands.

“How do,” he said softly. “What would y’all like to order?”

Anna smiled up at him, but he only stared back.

“Well,” she began, “what is your specialty?”

“And more importantly, how much is it?” added David.

The waiter laughed. “More than you can afford, I’ll wager!”

David chuckled. “We have two dollars. Bring us whatever that provides.”

He glanced at his wife, who glared at him.

“It ain’t Confederate currency, is it?” the man asked.

“Silver,” responded David.

The waiter grinned and walked off into the kitchen.

Anna was still glaring. “The money you earned in prison?”

David nodded.

“You should hold on to that, sweetheart. We might need it for something important.”

He smiled. “You’re important,” he answered. “You said you needed to eat, and I’m starvin’. What could be more important than that?”

The musicians began to play another melody, and the couple listened to the lyrics.

“We shall meet but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair.

We shall linger to caress him, while we breathe our ev’nin’ prayer.

When a year ago we gathered, joy was in his mild blue eye.

But a golden cord is severed. And our hopes in ruin lie.”

David couldn’t help but think of the loss of his best friend. The lyrics saddened him deeply, searing his soul, rekindling the painful remembrance of discovering Jake’s lifeless body on the battlefield. He drew a heavy sigh, and took his beloved’s hand.

“It’ll be all right,” she comforted.

He nodded in confirmation, relieved when the song finally ended and the musicians broke into a lively tune.

About the Author:

Image

J.D.R. Hawkins is an Amazon, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling, award-winning author. She is one of a few female Civil War authors, uniquely describing the front lines from a Confederate perspective. Her “Renegade Series” includes “A Beautiful Glittering Lie,” winner of the 2013 John Esten Cooke Fiction Award and the 2012 B.R.A.G. Medallion. The sequel, “A Beckoning Hellfire,” is an Amazon bestseller and winner of the 2022 B.R.A.G. Medallion. “A Rebel Among Us,” the third book in the series, is the recipient of the 2017 John Esten Cooke Fiction Award and winner of the 2022 B.R.A.G. Medallion. Double-Edged Sword is the newly-published, fourth book in the series. These books, published by Westwood Books Publishing, LLC, tell the story of a family from north Alabama who experience immeasurable pain when their lives are dramatically changed by the war. Ms. Hawkins has also published a nonfiction book about the War Between the States, titled “Horses in Gray: Famous Confederate Warhorses,” with Pelican Publishing.  She is a member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the International Women’s Writing Guild, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, and Pikes Peak Writers. Ms. Hawkins is also an artist and a singer/songwriter.

JDR Hawkins on the Web:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Pinterest * Goodreads * Amazon

Release Day Blitz – Princess & Prejudice

Image

It is a funny, passionate, second chance Indian romance by the winner of the Amazon KDP Pen to Publish Contest 2020.

Image

A not-so-fairy-tale romance!

They say opposites attract, but when Yuvarajkumari Jayshree Singh, Princess of Devgarh, and Dr Aryan Sharma meet, it’s more like opposites combust.

He thinks she is a bratty and entitled princess, while she thinks he is an uptight pain-in-the-ass, who needs to have the stick surgically removed from his rather delectable posterior.

When Aryan’s sister gets engaged to Jessie’s brother, they are forced to declare a reluctant ceasefire.

But the hostilities don’t cease. Instead, they erupt in an unexpected and unlikely gush of desire and longing.

With their families set to merge, Aryan and Jessie need to decide if his prejudice and her pride can be set aside long enough for the love they feel to blossom. Or will they spend eternity wondering if they’d missed their chance at happiness?

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Read an excerpt from Princess & Prejudice

Chapter 1

JESSIE

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“It never is! Her Highness Jayshree Singh is never in the wrong. It’s always someone else’s fault,” ranted Dr Aryan Sharma, as he paced up and down the centre of the maze in my garden.

I picked a piece of lint off my red Banarasi silk sari and tried to ignore him.

He had taken his coat off in his rush to play the hero and had rolled his sleeves up at some point during this never-ending lecture. The Patek Phillipe that I had gifted him when he qualified as a paediatrician glinted on his wrist. I wondered if he had ever realised its true worth. 

Probably not, considering that I had convinced his sister – who was my best friend – to pretend that it was from her, and since Nivy still hadn’t made it to the big screen at that point, Aryan had believed her claim that it was the most real-looking fake Patek Phillipe that she had ever seen in Devgarh market. The fact that his sister had spent all her meagre savings on the watch ensured that her doting brother wore the watch proudly, even though he was morally opposed to fakes of any kind. Which was a good thing. If he knew that it wasn’t his sister’s meagre savings, but my more considerable ones that had paid for it, he’d probably fling it into the palace pond.

The watch suited him, I mused. It was gorgeous, almost a piece of art. Yet, it was strong and sturdy, and very, very reliable. Just like Dr Clueless himself.

It was difficult to take my eyes off his hands, beautifully shaped and strong, but sensitive. It was easy to picture him tenderly cupping a baby’s head with those hands, and even easier to imagine him cupping my breast. I shook my head to clear it, and looked away, wondering why you couldn’t find a good breeze right when you needed it. My face felt all flushed and hot.

Aryan was still going on about what a brat I was, and how he was sick and tired of my pranks. At that, I raised my hand like a student in front of a teacher, knowing very well that it would infuriate him.

“What?” Aryan barked, stopping mid-pace with his hands on his hips.

I took a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty of him in his light blue formal shirt, tie askew and sleeves rolled up roughly, all six feet of gorgeousness glaring at me fiercely. Then I relegated that moment to the back of my mind and proceeded to infuriate him even more.

“Would you really classify my actions as a prank?” I asked politely.

He notched up the heat level on his glare. If it got any hotter, I’d turn into sheesh kebab.

“Wouldn’t you?” 

I pretended to think for a second and then shook my head.

“Not really. Pranks are for kids. This was more like a happy accident,” I said, with a sweet smile.

It was. A very happy accident that sent his girlfriend, Dr Arshia Thakkar, flying into the big fountain in the centre of the palace courtyard. Happy for me, at least. I managed to wipe that smug smile off her face for all of five glorious minutes, until Aryan rushed to her rescue, carrying her out of the fountain like a Bollywood hero. I was hoping he’d slip and fall on his ass, but the fates had never favoured me before. So why would they change the habits of a lifetime now?

I was forced to watch him set her down tenderly on a bench and coo over her until Munshi Ji led her into the palace for a hot bath and change of clothes. I had rolled my eyes at the drama. Hot bath, indeed. This wasn’t fricking Siberia. It was Devgarh, and we were in the middle of one of the hottest summers ever. The twit should have been happy at the dunking, instead of acting as if she nearly drowned in what amounted to exactly one and a half buckets of water.

Besides, I didn’t know why he was blaming me for it.

“Why exactly are you blaming me for your girlfriend’s clumsiness?”

I watched with interest as he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath to calm down. An effort that failed miserably.

“Arshia is not clumsy,” he yelled.

“You mean she was trying to swim the length of that fountain for fun?”

“Your dog pushed her in,” he accused, pointing a finger at me.

I stood up slowly and gathered the folds of my sari around me as gracefully as I could. Then I walked up to him and gently pulled his finger down.

“Don’t yell at me, Dr Sharma,” I said softly.

When he opened his mouth to yell some more, I put a finger over his lips.

“Zombie is not my dog. He belongs to Veer. And he didn’t push Arshia in. She tripped and fell into the fountain when she was running around like a headless chicken, for reasons best known to her.”

About the Author:

Alisha Kay writes funny, exciting and steamy stories, with spunky heroines who can rescue themselves, and hot, woke heroes who find such independence irresistible.

The first book in The Devgarh Royals series, The Maharaja’s Fake Fiancée, won the grand prize at the Amazon KDP Pen to Publish Contest 2020.

Alisha on the Web:
Instagram * Twitter 

Release Day Blitz – Ruin of the Scarred

Image
Image

Bidisha, a 17-year-old braveheart, has lived all her life in hiding since she is the daughter of the most wanted woman in Bishnupur. In the calm of the British Raj, Bidisha embarks on the quest to free her mother from the false accusation. But for that, she needs to challenge the royals who dare not stand against the British.

And when she enters the palace, she encounters the power-hungry Yuvaraja Trinabh and his twisted mother, the Rani Maa. Rani Maa despises her dutiful but meek step-son Yuvaraja Prabir and his hound Debesh Das, a Yodha who is his master’s protector. And so, she assigns Bidisha a job to spy.

But hearts entwine, and love meddles their path in the most unpredictable and adventurous ways.

Furthermore, things become dicey when Bidisha slits off her lover’s thumb, the Yuvaraja himself. Her dream to live free becomes a farfetched nightmare as her hiding in the jungle is not an option anymore.

When the deadly romance and the moral complexity are only a superficial part of the deep-rooted dark conspiracy, will Bidisha survive her sinking ground?

Will she emerge a warrior, save her own heart and win her love?

Or, will she succumb to the royal politics, lose her mother and lose herself too?

Book Links:

Goodreads * Amazon US * Amazon IN

Read an Excerpt from Ruin of the Scarred

‘Don’t be under the impression that you are an exception because you saved my life,’ Rani Durga Moni Devi continued. ‘Didn’t I tell you yesterday that you need to be at least clean if not anything else? But look at you.’

Bidisha’s forehead scrunched even as she fisted her hands part in disappointment in herself and part in anger towards the man who was responsible for her current state. Bidisha looked at the man before her in annoyance. Her anger amplified when he gave her a smug smile even as the queen continued her tirade. 

Nobody had ever spoken to her like that. Though Bidisha had encountered rude men and women, she had always taught them a lesson if they crossed the line she had drawn. Bidisha was already having a one-on-one combat with Rani Durga Moni Devi in her mind and was mincing the queen with her sword in her world. She smiled at her thoughts, hiding her face when, in their imaginary battle, Rani Maa fell carrying her huge body weight. 

Suddenly, a pair of legs appeared before her and she knew instantly that it was none other than the mysterious man. Bidisha lifted her head.  

Did he see me smiling? This is not good. I should have been more careful before mocking the queen.

The man took her in from top to bottom, then stretched a hand and moved her out of his way. He then walked out of Rani Maa’s chamber as if nothing had happened. The huge man in black was not only mysterious and rude but was also indecent, she concluded. 

Bidisha felt a flash of irritation and she glared at his retreating form. Her first mission, she thought, would be to dig out all the information she could about that man, once she got into the palace. 

About the Author:

Image

Medha Nagur is anything but a stereotypical homemaker, at home full time but with a pen all the time!

A freelance blogger by profession in her past life, she was on her maternity break when she started writing fiction. Medha considers herself a chronic creative aficionado who loves painting and writing.

Once a lecturer in Science College, where she gave lectures in Computer Science soon after her Masters, was fascinated by the blog world and realized her love for the words and took up writing full time.

She is also at her creative best when it comes to cooking innovative dishes to cater to the needs of her 11-year-old son, 4-year-old daughter, and not to mention her epicure husband. Get a glimpse of her culinary art on Instagram.

A music lover who likes to hit the floor on Zumba numbers is also a fashion enthusiast (like any woman on this planet!).

She wants to be in the womb of nature when it comes to holidays, embracing its warmth, which she believes is a gift to mankind.

All in all, she is born to collect laughs and make a relentless commitment to love so that she can enjoy life in abundance.

Medha on the Web:

Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon

Post Navigation