Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Book Blast and Giveaway: Fox Hounds by Lia Connor

Title:  Fox Hounds

Author: Lia Connor

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Artist: Renee' George

Release Date: March 15, 2024

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male/Male/Female

Length: 45 pages

Genre: Action Adventure, New Releases, Paranormal Women's Fiction, Romance, Romantic Comedy

Themes: 20th Century, Big Beautiful Women, Bisexual, Multisexual, & Pansexual, Multicultural & Interracial, Multiple Partners, Reverse Harem, Second Edition, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Foxy Lady…

Reyna's a skilled thief and the lightest-fingered pickpocket around. Several professionals would love to have her on their side, if only to be able to keep an eye on her. What they don't know is that Reyna's nickname isn't just fantasy -- she's a shapeshifting fox and as clever and wily as they come. No one can catch her if she doesn't want to be caught, and so far no one's come close to winning her over.

Not, that is, until the hounds pick up her trail. Jonas, Si and Boone, lovers as well as skilled tricksters, have the Fox's scent and they intend to woo her, outsmart her and win her to their team. As hounds in name as well as in shapeshifting nature, they know they're just as good at getting the job done as Reyna is. All they have to do is catch this thief and get her not only on their side, but in their shared bed.

And they won't give up until they get the job done.

Excerpt

Fox Hounds
Second Edition
Lia Connor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Lia Connor

Three dogs climbing from an alley to the third-floor balcony of a nightclub would, Jonas knew, have raised a few eyebrows. If anyone had been around to see what happened next, they'd probably have fainted.

Three dogs clustered together on the roof, nosing one another in approval. One morphic flash later -- a sight that'd make any human's eyes water and their head ache -- and three men crouched above the club -- and more importantly, beneath a window.

Jonas tested the surface of the glass. "Bulletproof and cutter-proof. Gotta hand it to the owners. They think they know their security."

"Want to try the lock picks?" Si patted his pocket. He'd concealed his tools so well that unless someone stripped him bare they wouldn't have known he had anything more dangerous on him than his charming smile.

"No." Jonas studied the window. He rolled his sleeves up to mid-forearm. "I think this might just work better." He lifted and the window rose smoothly as silk. The ripe scent of perfume, gin and sex from the club rolled out in powerful waves. "It's like they bathe in it. Eau de Horny."

Si wasn't listening. "Wait, the window's unlocked? No alarms, no sirens, no pepper gas booby traps? Someone knew we were coming."

"I'd say it's likely. I'd even say it was the Fox."

Si swore softly and with great respect.

"Sounds like she's throwing a party to welcome us, too. Listen to that racket, would you? No better place to hide than in a crowd," Jonas said. "Nothing beats a classy lady except a crafty classy dame."

"There's got to be at least a hundred people in there," Boone said in awe. He bumped shoulders with Si and head-butted Jonas in the arm. "Do you think they know what she is?"

"Doubtful. The Fox likes playing human." Jonas scratched idly behind Boone's ear. "Besides, doesn't matter. She's led us on a wild chase, but the end game is going to be one hundred percent worth it. Two forms and they both have their uses, boys. We found the Fox's current den on all fours, and now we sweep her off her feet as men."

"So you say. I don't think it's going to be that easy," Si objected. "Fox is the best thief on the West Coast, acknowledged by all, so God only knows how many offers --"

"And threats," Boone butted in soberly.

"-- and threats," Si agreed, "she must have turned down before us. I'd bet dozens have tried and failed to get her on their low-down teams."

"Probably, but they're not us." Jonas lifted the window fully open. Sufficiently tall and wide enough to admit three full-grown conmen, even if one of them was Boone, who'd played fullback before his teammates became aware of his half-canine nature and drop-kicked him off the team. "Here's where the hunt really gets fun. Trust me. Have I ever led you wrong?"

Si grumbled under his breath, then said, louder, "You know, someday you're going to be wrong. I just hope I'm fast enough to stay ahead of the shock wave of shit when that day comes along."

"You know how I know you love the biz?" Jonas ruminated. "The happier you get, the louder you complain. Right now, you're almost ecstatic. You'd shrivel up and die without this to keep you feeling lively. That, and you think the sun rises and sets on me."

"Don't push your luck."

"I never stop. Life without risk isn't life at all." Jonas nuzzled the corner of Si's mouth. "Don't try to con a conman."

Si rolled his eyes, but despite that he bit and licked at Jonas's lips, teasing him around for a proper kiss, dirty, wet, tongues sliding together.

"Careful you two don't get carried away and fall," Boone rumbled, ever protective even when amused. "It's a long way down and even shapeshifters go splat."

"Yep, that'll kill the mood." Si nudged Boone's chest. Lightly.

"Settle down, boys." Jonas poked his head through the window to assess the room beyond. "Empty. I'm betting it's for storage. Sounds like the party's directly below, too."

"A room full of L.A.'s brightest and most beautiful pretending to be bad boys and girls," Si said. "I like it."

"I like the chase." Jonas breathed in, searching for a trace of the Fox's unique, tantalizing scent. "Once we're inside, you follow my every signal. This is a three-pronged attack and I need you both sharp if we want the Fox to take our bait."

"You honestly think we have a shot at getting her on our team?" Boone asked dubiously.

Jonas turned, his balance perfect, to take Boone by the nape and kiss him quiet. "That was for luck, but if you ask me, I think we have as good a chance as any. Maybe better. We have something she wants. You lose all the battles you don't even try to win."

Boone grinned big and bright. "That's good enough for me."

"I knew I could count on you." Jonas held out his fist for his hounds to bump knuckles on. "One for all, and all for one. Let's catch ourselves a Fox."

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Lia Connor lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but. Her laptop is her best friend. Lia loves stories about BBW’s, hot, hot, hot threesomes and wily shifters who get into (and out of) all kinds of trouble...

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! 


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Sunday, March 17, 2024

Discover Good Half Gone today!

 


GOOD HALF GONE
Author: Tarryn Fisher
ISBN: 9781525804885

Publication Date: March 19, 2024

Publisher: Graydon House

18.99 US | 23.99 CAN

 


Iris Walsh saw her twin sister Piper get kidnapped—so why does no one believe her?

Iris narrowly escaped her pretty, popular twin sister’s fate as a teen—kidnapped and trafficked and long gone before the cops agreed to investigate. Months later, Piper’s newborn son Callum was dropped on their estranged mother’s doorstep in the dead of night, with a note in Piper’s handwriting signed simply, Twin.

As an adult, Iris wants one thing—proof. Because she knows exactly who took Piper all those years ago, and she has a pretty good idea of who Callum’s father is. She just has to get close enough to prove it. And if the police won’t help, she’ll just have to do it her own way--by interning at the isolated Shoal Island Hospital for the criminally insane, where her target is kept under lock and key. Iris soon realizes that something sinister is bubbling beneath the surface of the Shoal, and that the patients aren’t the only ones being observed…

Buy Links:

BookShop.org

Harlequin

Barnes & Noble

Books A Million

Amazon

 Excerpt from Good Half Gone by Tarryn Fisher. Copyright © 2024 by Tarryn Fisher. Published by Graydon House.

911, WHAT IS your emergency?”

“Hello? Help me, please! They took my sister! Please hurry, I don’t know where they are. I can’t find them.” *rustling noise* *yells something* “Oh my god—oh my god. Piper!”

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down so that I can understand you.”

“Okay…” *crying*

“Who took your sister?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know them. Two guys. Dupont knows them, I—”

“Miss, what is the address? Where are you?”

“The theater on Pike, the Five Dollar…” *crying* “They took my phone, I’m calling from inside the theater.”

“Wait right where you are, someone is going to be there to help shortly. Can you tell me what your name is?”

*crying*

“What is your name? Hello…?”

*crying, indecipherable noises*

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Iris…”

“What is your sister’s name, Iris? And how old is she?”

“Piper. She’s fifteen.”

“Is she your older sister or younger sister… Iris, can you hear me?”

“We’re twins. They just put her in a car and drove away. Please hurry.”

“Can you tell me what kind of vehicle they were driving?”

“I don’t know…”

“—a van, or a sedan—?”

“It was blue and long. I can’t remember.”

“Did it have four doors or two… Iris?”

“Four.”

“And how many men were there?”

“Three.”

“I’m going to stay on the line with you until the officers get there.”

He leans forward, rouses the mouse, and turns off the audio on his computer. Click click clack. I was referred to Dr. Stanford a year ago when my long-term therapist retired. I had the option of finding a new therapist on my own or being assigned someone in the practice. Of course I considered breaking up with therapy all together, but after eight years it felt unnatural not to go. But I was a drinker of therapy sauce: a true believer in the art of feelings. I imagined people felt that way about church. At the end of the day, I told myself that a weird therapist was better than no therapist.

I disliked Allen Stanford on sight. Grubby. He is the grownup version of the kindergarten booger eater. A mouth breather with a slow, stiff smile. I was hoping he’d grow on me.

Dr. Stanford clears his throat.

“That’s hard to listen to for me, so I can only imagine how you must feel.”

Every year, on the anniversary of Piper’s kidnapping, I listen to the recording of the 911 call I made from the lobby of the Five Dollar. When I close my eyes, I can still see the blue diamond carpet and the blinking neon popcorn sign.

“Do you want to take a break?”

“A break from what?”

“It must be hard for you to hear that even now…”

That is true, reliving the worst day of my life never gets easier. The smell of popcorn is attached to the memory, and I feel nauseated. A cold chill sweeps over me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod once.

“What happened after you hung up the phone?”

“I waited…what else could I do? I was afraid they were outside waiting to take me too. My brain hadn’t fully caught up to what was happening. I felt like I was dreaming.”

My voice is weighed down with shame; in the moments after my twin was taken, I was thinking of my own safety, worried that her kidnappers would come back. Why hadn’t I chased the car down the street, or at least paid attention to the license plate so I could give it to the cops? Hindsight was a sore throat.

“I wanted to call Gran.” I shake my head. “I thought I was crazy because I’d dialed her number hundreds of times and I just… I forgot. I had to wait for the cops.”

My lungs feel like they’re compressing. I force a deep breath.

“I guess it took five minutes for the cops to get there, but if you asked me that day, I would have said it took an hour.”

When I close my eyes, I can still see the city block in detail— smell the fry oil drifting across the street from the McDonald’s.

“The cops parked their cruiser on the street in front of the theater,” I continue. “I was afraid of them. My mother was an addict—she hated cops. To certain people, cops only show up to take things away, you know?”

He nods like he knows, and maybe he does, maybe he had a mom like mine, but for the last twenty years, he’s been going to Disney World—according to the photos on his desk—and that somehow disqualifies him in my mind as a person who’s had things taken away from him.

I take another sip of water, the memories rushing back. I close my eyes, wanting to remember, but not wanting to feel— a fine line.

I was shaking when I stumbled out of the theater and ran toward the cop car, drunk with shock, the syrupy soda pooling in my belly. My toe hit a crack in the asphalt and I rolled my ankle, scraping it along the side of the curb. I made it to them, staggering and crying, scared out of my mind—and that’s when things had gone from bad to worse.

“Tell me about your exchange with the police,” he prompts. “What, if anything, did they do to help you in that moment?”

The antiquated anger begins festering now, my hands fisting into rocks. “Nothing. They arrived already not believing me. The first thing they asked was if I had taken any drugs. Then they wanted to know if Piper did drugs.”

The one with the watery eyes—I remember him having a lot of hair. It poked out the top of his shirt, tufted out of his ears. The guy whose glasses I could see my face in—he had no hair. But what they had both worn that day was the same bored, cynical expression. I sigh. “To them, teenagers who looked like me did drugs. They saw a tweaker, not a panicked, traumatized, teenage girl.”

“What was your response?”

“I denied it—said no way. For the last six months, my sister had been hanging with a church crowd. She spent weekends going to youth group and Bible study. If anyone was going to do drugs at that point, it would have been me.”

He writes something down on his notepad. Later I’ll try to imagine what it was, but for now I am focused.

“They thought I was lying—I don’t even know about what, just lying. The manager of the theater came outside to see what was going on, and he brought one of his employees out to confirm to the police that I had indeed come in with a girl who looked just like me, and three men. I asked if I could call my gran, who had custody of us.”

“Did they let you?”

“Not at first. They ignored me and just kept asking questions. The bald one asked if I lived with her, but before I could answer his question, the other one was asking me which way the car went. It was like being shot at from two different directions.” I lean forward in my seat to stretch my back. I’m so emotionally spiked, both of my legs are bouncing. I can’t make eye contact with him; I’m trapped in my own story—helpless and fifteen.

“The men who took my sister—they took my phone. The cops wanted to know how I called 911. I told them the manager let me use the phone inside the theater. They were stuck on the phone thing. They wanted to know why the men would take my phone. I screamed, ‘I have no idea. Why would they take my sister?’”

“They weren’t hearing you,” he interjects.

I stare at him. I want to say No shit, Sherlock, but I don’t. Shrinks are here to edit your emotions with adjectives in order to create a TV Guide synopsis of your issues. Today on an episode of Iris in Therapy, we discover she has never felt heard!

“I was hysterical by the time they put me in the cruiser to take me to the station. Being in the back of that car after just seeing Piper get kidnapped—it was like I could feel her panic. Her need to get away. They drove me to the station…” I pause to remember the order of how things happened.

“They let me call my grandmother, and then they put me in a room alone to wait. It was horrible—all the waiting. Every minute of that day felt like ten hours.”

“Trauma often feels that way.”

“It certainly does,” I say. “Have you ever been in a situation that makes you feel that way—like every minute is an hour?” I lean forward, wanting a real answer. Seconds tick by as he considers me from behind his desk. Therapists don’t like to answer questions. I find it hypocritical. I try to ask as many as I can just to make it fair.

 

Author Bio:

 


Tarryn Fisher is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of nine novels. Born a sun hater, she currently makes her home in Seattle, Washington, with her children, husband, and psychotic husky. She loves connecting with her readers on Instagram.

  

Social Links:

Author Website

Facebook

Instagram

Goodreads


Saturday, March 16, 2024

Book Tour Stop and Giveaway: A Seduction of Dreams and Nightmares

A Seduction of Dreams and Nightmares
A.J. Locke
Publication date: March 26th 2024
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

They say humans are dreams and Fiends are nightmares. For though Fiends have magic, beauty, and power, their immortal lives are restricted. Vampires must sate their blood lust. Wytches will crumble to dust when their magic runs out. Shapeshifting Haunts must keep their vicious beasts caged. Incubi and succubi cannot indulge in carnal pleasure without dire consequences.

Novari is a human who bartends for Luccero, an alluring incubus and the star of her fantasies. She can’t have Luc, but she does have Keo, who also wouldn’t mind Luc’s touch. Keo, who loathes being a vampire, is in pursuit of a fabled cure that will turn Fiends human. A cure highly in demand as many Fiends crave freedom from their burdened lives.

When an unexpected discovery about the cure’s location puts Novari and Keo in danger, they take refuge in Luccero’s sprawling manor. There, they contemplate how to stay safe … and succumb to each other’s seduction.

The pleasure she finds with Luc and Keo makes Novari want to hide away forever, but when the danger zeroes in, they’ll have to figure out how to overcome it before the dream they’ve found together becomes a nightmare.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“Cursed,” came Luc’s soft voice. “As Fiends we consider ourselves cursed, nightmares. Humans, fragile and finite as they may be, are the dreams. They are born, they grow, they change, they have choices we will never have about who they want to be and what feeds their appetites. But we, everlasting and unchanging until the moment of our demise, have little choice. I can never travel far by myself lest I have no means to sate my Lust. I came into existence as an incubus with a specific way I must live, and that is all I can ever be.”

His words reminded me of the conversation with Keo last night and the way he’d questioned his urges because he couldn’t stop wondering if everything about him was decided before he even existed.

“I don’t think I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about things from your perspective. I feel bad about that.”

Luc chuckled. “Humans are selfish beings; I do not fault you for it.”

“I’m not—”

“I meant it not as an insult,” he cut in, “you are selfish because you know your time is limited. That there is an inevitable end you cannot avoid, and though you wish for the years to take you into old age, you live with no idea if your next day will be your last. Thus, you focus on yourselves, your pursuits, your pleasures. You can pick up jobs, hobbies, lovers, and discard them as your mood fits because ‘life is short,’ no?

“You try to pull as much life from the world as you can because when you die, there is no coming back. Fiends can walk through centuries; we do not think of time the same way. Were two hundred of your friends to ask you to keep something of theirs in your care for the rest of your life you would say there was no way you could dedicate your life to taking care of things that do not belong to you. Things that would impede your ability to live your life on your terms.”

He raised his hand to indicate the greenhouse. “But for me? I said yes every single time a Fleurisse came to me. Because it was of no consequence to hold on to things that would remain as long as I. All I have is time, and thus, we endure the long years together.”

Luccero was far more perceptive and empathetic than I would have ever thought he was. In a few short hours I’d learned more about him than I’d ever known. Because all I’d seen when I looked at him was his beauty, all I’d felt was his charm and his lusty aura. But he was so much more than a creature of seduction. I was sure his long life was full of amazing stories. He could tell me something about every Fleurisse here, was probably knowledgeable about things I wouldn’t know the first thing about.

I badly wanted to know this side of him more.

Author Bio:

A.J. Locke is a young adult and adult fantasy author, and also writes and illustrates picture books. She is an artist of various mediums including oil and acrylic paint, and watercolor. When she’s trying to avoid her writing projects she can be found trying to make a dent in her TBR pile, playing video games, watching anime, baking, and chasing the ever elusive eight hours of sleep. A.J. is originally from Trinidad and Tobago and now resides in NYC.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / TikTok / Instagram


GIVEAWAY!
1) Handmade book sleeve
2) Themed Notebook
3) Worldbuilding key item: Everway Compass decoration
4) Character art bookmarks: Luccero, Novari, Keovallen
5) Character art prints: Luccero, Novari, Keovallen
6) Handmade pressed flower necklace
7) Sticker sheet

ENTER TO WIN HERE!


Friday, March 15, 2024

New Release Spotlight Tour Stop/Giveaway: Rift in the Soul by Faith Hunter

 


Discover the next installment in the Soulwood Series by Faith Hunter in Rift in the soul today. Don't forget to enter the tour wide giveaway as well in the post.

Nell Ingram and her team face a dire, supernatural evil in this newest thrilling paranormal procedural in the New York Times bestselling Soulwood series.

Nell Ingram draws her powers from deep in the earth, and uses them to help Psy-LED, the Psychometric Law Enforcement Division, which solves paranormal crimes. When a local vampire calls to report a dead body on her compound, Nell knows she and her team have to be ready for anything.

But the dead body is just the beginning of a mystery that involves supernaturals of all kinds, including some of the most powerful vampires in the country. As Nell gets closer to the truth, she begins to understand that the perpetrator is tracking her too—and that there is something personal about this crime. Something with roots that go almost as deep as those in Soulwood.

  • ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0BHD9SMF7
  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ Ace (March 5, 2024)
  • Publication date ‏ : ‎ March 5, 2024
  • Print length ‏ : ‎ 382 pages
  • Buy links: 
    • Amazon/Apple/B&N: https://mybook.to/RiftinSoul
    • ​​Publisher: https://tinyurl.com/RiftSoulRandHou  (Note, they have links to BookShop.org, Walmart, and Target on this page.)

Excerpt twelve

“There are strange trees growing on your land.” Ming touched her chest and scratched at the dying blood, freshening her wound in a line of bright scarlet. She licked her fingertip. “They bleed. Charlainn tasted the tree and she . . . she felt joy. And now she is dead by the dawn.”
I had no idea who Charlainn was or when or why the vampire woman had tasted the vampire tree. The tree was a poorly kept secret that grew on church land and my land and had a mind of its own, sentient and self-aware, and had taken to calling itself the Green Knight. I hoped to control the tree enough to keep it from killing people for its dinner. I even had a dream of monetizing it for lumber. Maybe. Someday. “Go on,” I said.
“You are a people eater. I have heard you are purple, but I see you are not.”
There was nothing amusing about this bizarre conversation, but laughter welled up in me, nervous, half panicked. Soulwood filled me. Steadying me. I felt the Green Knight in the distance, alert.
“What happened to you?” I asked her softly.
“I found my soul. We all found our souls.” Bitterly she said, “Every Mithran everywhere has our souls and we cannot . . .” Ming turned her head halfway around to see Rick’s gun aimed at her. It was one of those not-human movements vampires can make, and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. As if the weapon didn’t matter, she swiveled her head back to me. “We cannot make them go away. Souls are destroying us. When your sister’s babies were born, did they bring back our souls? Did your tree bring back our souls?”
Vampires didn’t have souls. Everyone knew that. Ming thought vampires now had souls? She had always been unstable, but this was a new take on vampire psychological instability.
“No baby did anything. Have you called J—” I stopped just in time. “Have you called the Dark Queen? She might know something. Have you contacted her?”
“Cai called. It went to voice mail. So he called again. And her lady-in-waiting took a message.”
Jane Yellowrock had a lady-in-waiting? She was more likely to need an armorer than someone to paint her nails.
“When her secundo, the one called Eli Younger, called me back, he wove a tale of angels and demons, but I know . . .” Ming stopped and drank deeply again and tossed the empty wine bottle across the room. It hit the wall and clattered to the floor. I managed not to flinch.
When Rick and Ayatas returned from New Orleans and the coronation, they had referred to the vampires being a very different sort of strangeness from their usual eccentricity, as if very drunk. They had been right.
Cai opened the door to my side, looked at the gun aimed at the back of his mistress’ head, and walked casually across the room to Ming. He held out his wrist to Ming and she took it, embedded her fangs in his wrist, and drank. Cai laughed and stroked her hair. It was unexpectedly personal and suggestive, the way he touched her.
When she withdrew her fangs, she licked his wrist to clot the blood and close the wound. “Thank you. You will take the foolish nonhumans in the kitchen doorway into the front parlor. Keep them there.”
My spine went straight. I did not want to be alone with a crazy Ming of Glass.
“Have the boy’s body taken to the driveway so they may remove the filth.”
“Yes, my mistress,” Cai said.
“And call Yvonne. Have her bring the cards.”
Ming pulled her lapels together and looked at me. Some of her old imperiousness seeped back into her eyes. “Forgive me. I have been remiss. Would you care for tea?”
“Thank you?” I said, not certain how to respond.
Cai walked to the swinging doors. In a single lunge, he swiped out with both hands and grabbed Rick and Aya by the throat. Fast. Faster than any para. Nearly vampire-fast.
“Put them away,” Cai said of their weapons, his voice as nonchalant as if they were standing at a bar having friendly drinks. “You’d be dead by the time you fired.”
Cai shoved and pushed both men back through the kitchen. I could hear their shoes sliding on the floor. We had known for a long time that Cai was far more than human. Cai’s strength, against two other paranormals who also had greater than human strength, was proof of that.

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/   Copyright Faith Hunter


GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway


About the Author:

Faith Hunter, urban fantasy writer, was born in Louisiana and raised all over the south. Hunter fell in love with reading in fifth grade, and best loved SciFi, fantasy, and gothic mystery. She decided to become a writer in high school, when a teacher told her she had talent. Now, she writes full-time, tries to keep house, and is a workaholic with a passion for RV travel, Japanese maples, orchids, white-water kayaking, and writing. She and her husband love to RV to whitewater rivers all over the Southeast.

Author of series: Skinwalker (feat. Jane Yellowrock, urban fantasy), Rogue Mage (Thorn St. Croix, urban fantasy), Junkyard Cats (Shining Smith, dystopian-esque Scifi), and Soulwood (Nell Ingram, paranormal procedural where an escapee from a cult, a solitary woman with deadly magic of her own, is hired to help PsyLED: a paranormal division of Homeland Security; find a missing child. Find out more about the author here: www.FaithHunter.net

Tour Schedule
March 4
  • Distinct Authors
  • Curlupwithagoodbook

March 5 
  • Books of my Heart
  • Ilovebooksandstuff
  • Book Review Virginia Lee
  • Kat Reads Romance

March 6
  • I Smell Sheep
  • Steamy Book Momma

March 7
  • Drops of Ink
  • Janet Walden-West
  • Slippery Words

March 8
  • The Irresponsible Reader

March 11
  • Karen's Killer Book Bench
  • Quirky Fat Cats
  • Monster Complex

March 12
  • Iron Canuck
  • Archaeolibrarian

March 13
  • ScifiChick
  • Words About Words

March 14
  • Books Glorious Books
  • All Things Dark and Dirty

March 15
  • Dawn's Reading Nook

Thursday, March 14, 2024

New Book Spotlight/Giveaway: Fiona's Fury

 


Talking with Roxy Blue about Fiona's Fury

Tell us about your latest book, who are the main character(s) and what can we expect when we pick it up?

Fiona’s Fury centers around a high-strung divorcee who’s never really processed her own family trauma, her ex-husband who goes from trusted friend to total control freak, and her favorite floral supplier who turns out to be much more than your average flower farmer.

The only thing you can really expect is the unexpected. Fiona’s Fury goes from falsely hunky-dory to weird to bad to worse…before things get better, but there’s plenty of spice to carry you through the hardships.

Do you come up with the hook first, or do you create characters first and then dig through until you find a hook?

Absolutely I begin with a basic notion of my main characters and then freestyle the entire story around them. I generally know almost nothing about how the plot is going to unfold when I begin writing a book.

Which of your characters would you want to share a campfire with, and why?

Definitely Bo! But then, what flesh-and-blood woman wouldn’t pick him? The truth is, Fiona would make a very interesting, but energetically taxing, friend. Bo is the salt of the earth. He’s laid back and bro-ish, yet insightful and deep.

Anyone, male or female, would share a campfire with him. Not to mention…he’d probably prepare something really nice to grill!

Tell us about what you are reading at the moment or anticipate reading in the future? Any favorite authors you enjoy to read in your spare time?

Currently I’m reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance for the first time. If you look up reviews, you’ll find there are about 101 reasons to read it. I’m thoroughly enjoying it because I always like something that balances travel, or casual living, with philosophy. Think Jack Kerouac. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow is also on my TBR list. Oddly, I haven’t read a lot of novels by the same authors because I always want to further explore who’s out there. But I can name a few romance authors whose catalogs I’d dig way into, based upon reading even one or two books by them: L.J Shen, Philippa Gregory, Helen Huang, Abby Jimenez, Emily Henry, and yes…Colleen Hoover, although It Ends with Us is not the one that roped me in.

Are there any specific themes or messages that you strive to convey through your  writing? What impact do you hope your books have on readers?

The general message I probably want to convey is one of integrity. I’m not dead-set on my main characters always being great people, but I expose their flaws to the reader in ways that make it apparent I’m not supporting all their actions and decisions. I like for characters to be real. And most real people are complex in both good and bad ways. I mostly intend for my books to impact people through character resonance. With a heavier focus on character development than intricate plot points, I expect a lot of readers to strongly relate to the people in my books. Over time I could write hundreds of in-depth characters in a way that there will be something for everyone. I also like to impart concepts that are ethical, introspective, thought-provoking, or outright philosophical.


What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced as an author, and how have you 
overcome them?

The biggest challenge for me is that I don’t have a college degree. I was raised by an old-fashioned English stickler, and come from a family of talented (though not published) writers. The knack and desire for writing has been flowing through my veins since I can remember, but it’s difficult to get attention in any industry without credentials. 

Self-publishing has made it possible for many brilliant writers to get their works on the shelves without a lot of red tape, and I’m simply following suit.

How do you approach character development in your stories? Do you have any specific techniques or methods that you find particularly effective?

I write characters just like I’d do Method Acting. I channel the character to write realistic and nuanced dialogue, and even to determine what will happen next in their life…what they’d do in that exact situation, in accordance with their history and deepest personality traits.

What do you believe sets your writing apart from others in your genre, and why should readers choose to read your books?

Fiona’s Fury is one of the rare novels that is perhaps equal in plot and character development. Since I’m most into characters and the inner workings of their minds, a general theme of my writing is the deep sense of who people are and why they’re that way. I’d recommend my books to anyone who wants to read about the very real types of people that could be living next door. I hope to hit home in describing emotional nuances many people have experienced.

Can you talk about the marketing and promotion strategies you employ to reach and connect with your target audience? How do you utilize social media and other channels to build your author brand?

I wisely hired Rick Lite (Stress Free Book Marketing) to help me with the details of becoming a debut author. He’s the one who got Fiona’s Fury under the noses of the editorial reviewers who have been dropping 5 stars all over my Goodreads. This entire process would have been much more overwhelming without help. Although there’s still so much to do with reaching out to bookstores, arranging signings, writing letters to influencers and radio stations, making plans to do the audiobook, etc.

Instagram is the only social media platform I’ve committed to, as I’m not much of a social media junky, but I might get going with some youtube readings at some point.

How do you handle feedback and criticism from readers and reviewers?

Honestly, I just wouldn’t go out of my way to put my books in the hands of readers who I don’t really think would like them. Fiona’s Fury is by and large universally loved. The other two books of this series are a somewhat literary type of contemporary romance, not romcom suspense, and have been dubbed upmarket romance. So the audience for them will be a little more limited and specific. Criticism doesn’t bother me because not all my books will be for everyone. And of course there are always going to be people who get hung up on something that rubs them the wrong way, and then leave a hateful review.

Can you discuss any upcoming projects or books that you’re currently working on? What can readers expect from your future works?

Absolutely. Currently I’m almost finished with A Letter to Elise, the third book of the Finding Love Again series, which is a little on the dark or introspective side, but is not a suspense. It also offers a triple POV, so is unusual in that regard.

After this series is published, I plan to begin writing 20th century historical romance…which I’ve rarely encountered. I probably won’t do every decade of the century, but most, and not in any particular order. Right now I’m debating whether I want to begin with the 20s or 60s. Readers can expect material that will accurately reflect the mood and culture of the period I’m working in.


Fiona’s Fury
by Roxy Blue
Publication date: March 12th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Synopsis:

This chilling but hysterically sardonic thrill-ride is hard to put down. Smart, sexy, and deeply revelatory, it will send you on an enthralling emotional journey you won’t forget.

Fiona Turner, CEO of Fiona’s Flowers floral shop, hasn’t the time nor inclination to bother with men until she finally meets the face on the other end of the phone. Having remained friends, she never suspected her ex-husband, Quade, would morph into a terrifying, controlling, law-bending monster. When Fiona exhibits the first signs of wanting to move on in life, he threatens to take everything from her. A long weekend at a conference answers all of Fiona’s questions about floral supplier, Bo Thompson, except how she can possibly have him. She’ll never know what she’s missing unless she risks everything for love.



Giveaway:
Tour-wide giveaway (INT)
  • 3x Fiona’s Fury mug

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/d04251235699


AUTHOR BIO:


Raised in the South and transplanted to a midwestern New Age community, Roxy Blue writes about the types of down-to-earth characters that dispel the notion of romance being rubbish. After thirteen years as an exotic dancer, she developed a rare autoimmune arthritis that gave her an excuse to settle down and focus more on writing, although she still hoopdances and hikes on the good days. Roxy lives in Asheville, NC with the kind of hunk she likes to read about, and their two ridiculous cats.

Author links:



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