Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Release Blast... Lauren Firminger's Chaos's Reign



Chaos’s Reign
Publishing Date ~ 16/01/2018
Page Count: 146
Genre ~ New Adult; Romance
Cover Designed by: Outlined With Love Designs




Blurb:


I didn’t want to be the Pres of an MC, I was happy to be the right hand man and voice of reason. Life’s a bitch though and shit happens. Now I have to step into someone else’s shoes and take Raven’s position at the head of the table. What could possibly go wrong without my voice of reason?




Amazon US : AU : CA : UK

Excerpt:

I stood back, watching her as her tears fell, wishing I could go over to her and wrap her tiny body in my arms. I wish. I wish I could run my fingers through her long blonde hair and tell her that everything was gonna be okay. I was here though. Getting ready to lift the casket of the man she loved more than anyone in this world. Her first love. Her protector.
We lifted the casket onto our shoulders as ‘Over You’ by Miranda Lambert played throughout the church. I knew that had been her touch. I was at the front on one side and Tucker was on the other. It’s what Pres would have wanted. My eyes met hers as we passed her, and she turned to look our way. As they did, the tears in her eyes made my heart break for her. It breaks for all of us. His life was never meant to end like this. He deserved more than a gunshot death.


For other books by Lauren Firminger check out her Amazon Author Page


~Author Bio~


Lauren Firminger grew up in a small country town only a couple hours away from where she currently resides in Sydney, Australia.
During high school, Lauren fell in love with books and reading, and like most, was a Potter-head then turned Twi-Hard, Vampire Academy soon followed by the Mortal Instruments.


​However, it wasn't until she got her hands on Sylvia Day's Crossfire Series that Lauren fell in love with reading again. Soon after, her new writing journey began, bringing her to her official debut release of Learning to Fly.


~Author Links~


Monday, January 15, 2018

Blog Tour... Paul DeBlassie III's Goddess of the Wild Thing

Title: #GoddessWildThing @BooksOnFireTour

Let nature and the elements be your guide as we introduce you to Goddess Of The Wild Thing! 

 
 
 
Paul De Blassie IIIGoddess of the Wild Thing is a dramatic tale of one woman’s spiritual journey where magical happenings, unexpected turns of fate, and unseen forces influence her ability to love and be loved. Eve Sanchez, a middle-aged woman and scholar of esoteric studies, encounters a seductive but frightening man who introduces her to a supernatural world in which the wicked powers of a surrogate mother’s twisted affection threaten love and life. In the mystic realms of Aztlan del Sur, Eve and three friends struggle with whether bad love is better than no love and discover that love is a wild thing. 
Paul De Blassie III
 
 
 
 
Paul De Blassie IIIPaul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, the Depth Psychology Alliance, the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Association for Jungian Studies. 

His other award winning book: 

Paul De Blassie IIIA young curandera, a medicine woman, intent on uncovering the secrets of her past is forced into a life-and-death battle against an evil Archbishop. Set in the mystic land of Aztlan, "The Unholy" is a novel of destiny as healer and slayer. Native lore of dreams and visions, shape changing, and natural magic work to spin a neo-gothic web in which sadness and mystery lure the unsuspecting into a twilight realm of discovery and decision.


Twitter            Facebook            Website             Google+      YouTube         Instagram          GoodReads        Amazon
 
 


Books On Fire Tours:  This was a difficult read. Not because it was a bad story. On the contrary. It was mind blowing! It was difficult because it messed with one's mind in the most clever and effective way, which only a Pscychologist can do. So what is it about? 

Eve and her friends use yoga and other spiritual means to help them navigate life when it gets tricky, and the often elusive thing called love. Debating whether or not bad love is better than no love at all, they go through life's ups and downs together. Yet when Eve meets a man called Sam, who has potential, evil lurks and causes havoc in her life. An epic battle between good versus evil ensues between her and Sweet Mary, and in the process she finds her true self. BUT, there is so much more and as a reader you can only wonder what is real and not real.

Many people will complain about the lack of dialogue on this novel, but it is rich in back stories and information vital to the development of the plot. This book is not only filled with mystical and magical, but paranormal, metaphysical and occult elements. Essentially a great read for horror/ thriller fans, those who like a little romance will also enjoy this read.  Because it catered to all my needs as a reader, I give this book 5 stars. 

"Paul DeBlassie III has an extraordinary ability to pull the reader into his mythical world, and the special effect depictions drawn within my mind while reading *Goddess of the Wild Thing *could easily match up with some of the most gruesome of horror stories on film. He transports you through an amazing spiritual journey exploring the power of fate and love. Packed with action, suspense and even romance, Dr. DeBlassie has written a truly brilliant and riveting supernatural story!” ~ Tamara Ferguson, international, multi-award-winning author"

"Paul DeBlassie III has a wicked gift in writing psychological thrillers, and he does it in a way I have never experienced before. In *Goddess of the Wild Thing*, he gave me a glimpse into his reflections, inviting me to draw closer to the dark side. His writing is rich with supernatural symbolism and, when all is resolved, deeply empowering.” ~ Uvi Poznansky, artist and award-winning author

“*Goddess of the Wild Thing* by Paul DeBlassie III brilliantly couples his in-depth knowledge of the human mind and behavior with his love of lore, imaginatively knitting a deeply psychological and esoteric story that will keep you turning the page. I could picture clearly the fantastical sense of place . . . a must-read magical tale.” ~ Luna Saint Claire, author of *The Sleeping Serpent*

"Dr. DeBlassie, author of the multiple-award-winning *The Unholy*, produced another novel with depth, action, and spirit in *Goddess of the Wild Thing*. For centuries we’ve struggled with whether bad love is better than no love. In this paranormal thriller, a fierce woman tackles the question with determination and fire.” ~ Rayna Noire, author of the *Pagan Eyes Series*


 



The stone altar was used by Eve and company to conjure natural energies of earth, air, fire, and water. TonatzĂ© symbolized feminine strength and ancient powers. Around the altar, the four women entered mystic states with intuitive inspirations and visions. The four mestizas frequently gathered at midnight, when the full moon shone most lustrously. They held hands, sipped their whiskeys, and inhaled magic herb. Soon the image of the Goddess flickered in rhythm with their soft singing under the light of the high-desert moon.  Chant and trance conjured natural magic. They yielded to relaxation, reverie, and trust in one another and the natural world.

Descending into a meditative state, they were whisked from one world to the next. On slips of paper, they quietly wrote their worries, dilemmas, trials, and tribulations.

Seeking answers and relief, they placed the folded papers in a granite bowl before the altar. They lit a match. Paper burned.  Silence wrapped its arms around the four. Gentle breezes stirred. Hoots of distant and nearby owls carried through the nighttime atmosphere. Flames from the granite bowl rose three feet and abruptly expired, devoured by darkness.

The ritual of fire fortified the coven, foul happenstance and unexpected hazard averted, all save one kind.  Man trouble waited for Eve like a demonic jack-in-the-box, head bobbing and grinning. Muscles up and down her back tightened. It was this that caused her to flee into denial, the thought of time wasted, mind and body pained. The desire to talk, confide in her friends about misgivings about Sam, the last worst guy ever, fled like alley cats into a lonely night. Denial made everything go away—and stay gone—better than a couple of vodkas on the rocks on a chilly evening.  

A white cab edged out of the alleyway bordering the cantina. It pulled stealthily alongside Eve. She bent down and looked through the smudged passenger window. She wanted to make sure she knew the cabbie. Past midnight was no time to be in a trusting mood.   

Paul De Blassie III

***
 At three a.m., the proverbial witching hour of Aztlan, Sweet Mary left her apartment for the gathering of Las Brujas Malas, deep in the crumbling limestone edifice of vicious spirits. The condemned downtown limestone church, once a prosperous enclave of the Ecclesia Dei, had long been  abandoned. It sat adjacent to Sweet Mary’s bedroom, badly stained by gray and black soot.
    
Putrid odors of the cursed underworld that lay beneath its unhallowed edifice, curled through the atmosphere surrounding the decaying structure. 

Sweet Mary wound her way past the fenced and barbed wired blockade that deterred homeless souls and nighttime vandals. Her lithe frame smoothly squeezed between the slightly ajar, chained doors. She walked over the toppled wooden pews and stone statues littering the concrete flooring from the back of the church to its altar.

The religious artifacts had been defaced by those news media referred to as sledgehammer-wielding lunatics claiming clerical abuse as children.

She quipped to herself, Religion mocks, uses, and abuses. Nothing new under the black sun.
She opened a narrow side door that led to a rusted iron spiral staircase. Into the haunted and torch-lined basement that stretched thirty feet beneath the surface, she stepped. At the final stair, she touched bare earth.

Torches were lit along a cave of mirrors, shards embedded in the walls,  shattered remnants taken from the homes of victims who had defamed Las Brujas.

Anyone who dared speak ill of the brujas ended the day tormented, injured, or maimed. Crises happened. One second they were safe, the next mowed down by an out-of-control car, or mugged and cut, or worse, lured in by a soft and sexy vixen loaded with a nasty biological curse. Mirrors confiscated from homes during nighttime raids reflected the victim’s horrified face when doom struck. Sweet Mary hurried past the legions of rats scampering away from her every step into the cracks and crevices of the century-old limestone structure. 

An unavoidable eyesore at the heart of one the most decayed areas of the often sinister downtown Aztlan del Sur. It was a meeting . In this haunted zone, Sweet Mary presided over the witches of black magic. They knew how to spot love, taint love, kill love. It’s what bad mothers did. It’s what Las Brujas did. It’s what Sweet Mary did—because what had been received must be given.

No one knew where they gathered. Evil demanded hiddenness. Street-smart folk and fear-ridden church folk knew them as Las Brujas Malas, the foulest of witches, not to be crossed. Even those who suspected the whereabouts of their lair dared not cross the street to look at the unholy building, now a crumbling religious edifice.

The witches met at the mouth of a deserted tunnel, which in former years led to the secret chapel of the reigning archbishop, who there entertained a bevy of female devotees. Las Brujas, the four desert urban witches, walked down the twenty-foot descent. Hard-pack dirt sloped gently into the entrance of the unhallowed region of the chapel that had become the accursed cave of Las Brujas.

They moved forward, into the mouth of the cave.

Paul De Blassie III

*** 
But here Eve was, paralyzed. Waves of gurgling and quicksand were no metaphor. Agitation could turn bad to worse. Eve clutched harder for a stable mind. It was a torment, nearly impossible not to panic. She gritted her teeth, tightened her mental hold. Gently, millimeter by millimeter, she managed to raise her right hand. Mud offered no resistance. She raised her right forearm out of the hungry maw of dirt and grit. She grabbed hold of a desert oak’s dropping branch. It held firm. Five fingers clutched like a vise. She lifted her left arm and hand. Inch by inch, she loosened her torso from the deadly mud. Low-lying olive tree branches gave steadier purchase.  Relief. Memories of circling sparrows, an ancient warding against fated demise, provided a moment’s comfort. She pulled upward. Branches did not snap or break. They were supple. Evenly, she pulled with breath after concentrated breath. She gazed toward the sky. There were no sparrows overhead. The silence felt unnerving. The sky shifted, turquoise bright turned to leaden gray. The desert olive branch snapped. Eve screamed and dropped. She sank to her shoulders. Quicksand lapped up past her chin, grains of sand forming crusts along her lips. Clenching her teeth, she was grateful her mind hadn’t snapped along with the branch. Wits kept panic at bay. Dying wasn’t a concern, survival was. It was the getting there that mattered—how it happened, how she did it. She detested the thought of dying by a witch’s curse, slipping into an underworld of final breaths and mud-loaded lungs. If she went down into the belly of the abyss and the mouth of a soul-famished witch, she’d do it on her terms. Middle finger out.


Paul De Blassie III


 
 
 
Book trailer with the Author's choice of music to listen to his book.

 

Friday, January 12, 2018

Cover Reveal... Barb Shuler's Living In Your Hell



Living In Your Hell
Shattered Lives Series; Book 5
Publish Date: January 30, 2018
Genre: Suspense/Thriller




Cover Design by: MadHat Books
Models: Garrett Pentecost & Daria Rottenburke


I'll give my last breath to keep her safe.


Blurb:


Shelby

Having faith in human beings isn't something I grant easily.

My childhood was filled with yelling, anger, and beatings so bad I feared I would die. My Papa was my savior. He saved me from the beatings and hate, filling my life with love and happiness. He made sure I got the best education possible, and I was able to follow in his footsteps.

Now, being back home - with a past like mine - my nightmares are coming back. The flesh and blood kind.

Charlie

As a Sheriff's deputy, I've seen many things. I've had to handle some stuff that would make a saint roll over in his grave. Yet, I never give up. I wear my badge as a statement. I fight for those who can't fight for themselves. When the woman I love is put in danger, and my world starts falling into disarray, there is only one thing to do. Take a stand and fight for her - with her even.

No one from her past is going to take her from me. She's my forever and I plan to do everything I can to keep her that way.






Excerpt:


Prologue


Twenty-seven years ago a life formed, grew and was born into a family where she was supposed to be loved, have a happy life and grow into an adult her parents could be proud of. That life started out well… but things changed, and changed for the worse.
There aren’t many good things that I can remember from my childhood  before I came to live with my Papa. The things I do remember, I wish I could bleach from my memory and never have to think of them again. See, the memories I have of my father are full of pain and heartache. My mother wasn't much better.
I grew up in a house that was run by a man who would rather have a bottle at his lips than food on his table. My mother tried in the beginning, from what I can actually remember. I ate a lot of cheese sandwiches that were mostly just a piece of bread, sometimes it was even moldy but it's all I had. I ate even more jelly sandwiches. Grape jelly, always grape jelly. Needless to say, as an adult I can only tolerate cheese in small portions and as for grape jelly… no, I can't even stomach that now.
It was a luxury back then to get a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and to have milk to drink or even a hot meal that did not consist of my mother opening a can of.. something and dumping it into a bowl. Half the time I had to pinch my nose and just eat whatever it was. Most of it tasted gross. If I ever said that though, I got swatted, called ungrateful and sent to my room with no food. This is why I wish it could all be washed from my brain. I have serious issues with canned foods, even today.
The road of life is paved with good intentions and all but, I'm more of the mind to work my ass off and get what I want. I never wanted to be a burden to anyone, nor do I want to be dependent on anyone else. This is a battle I have been fighting since I was brought to live with my Papa. He wanted to give me the world, and God love him for it, but I couldn’t allow that then, and I don't accept it now. It wasn’t in me to break that cycle. If I have anything, it’s because I’ve busted my ass to make it happen.
Life has a way of pushing me in one direction when I want to go another. Dating Charlie McKenna for the last nine or so months has helped me become a little less OCD about some things, but it also scares the crap out of me. My biggest fears revolve around dating a loving, caring man. I mean, what if he finds out about my past and literally drops me like a half cooked tater? I don't feel like that would ever actually happen, not with everything I've seen of the man, but the thought is there nonetheless.
Charlie and the others, his friends who have slowly become my friends, and his family only know me as I am today. The emergency room doctor, the OBGYN, the smiling face who can stay calm in a crisis. That's not the real me, not really. They don't know the neurotic mess I really am.
Though, I'm not managing to hold myself together too well lately. When I moved back to Texas I wondered if I would have this issue. I would have nightmares in Colorado after a bad day, but not like it's been since I've been back here. Back home. Back to the place where it all started.
At first, I wasn't sure if I could handle it, but then life changed courses again and I met some people that truly needed my help. I enjoyed my life in the emergency room, and especially loved my job as an OBGYN. Nothing beats helping to bring a precious child into the world. That's how I met the people around me now.
I first met Kristol a little over a year ago when she wound up in my operating room. She'd been hurt, and I knew what I was seeing was more than something she could have done to herself. That night wasn't the first, but one of many times that I received a warning from the hospital about my boundaries when it came to a patient. We’d all slowly learned the truth of her situation, but that wasn't until I'd helped her and her kids after their sperm donor beat her son’s back raw in spots.
It was then I started to revert back to the “crazy bubble”. The past taunted me nightly. I would wake with my breath heaving, covered in sweat and tears filling my eyes. My nightmares haunted me. Even now, helping out between Papa’s office and Dani Lynn’s crisis center, my world has turned upside down as the life I want to forget keeps jumping out at me.
It's hard to keep it together when all I want to do is run away and hide. Or attack some dumbass man for slapping his girlfriend, wife or child around. Don't get me wrong, there are a few women around here that need a good ass whoopin’ too, for the same shit.
Life is never easy, I know that, but right now it's beginning to be too much. My nightmares are back in full force and…I'm seeing my father in places that he shouldn’t be. I'm afraid that I’m slowly losing my ever loving mind.
If things end up how I suspect they will… I'm about to be up shit creek without either a paddle, or the will to keep fighting to the top.  
I don't want to give up. I want to fight, but I'm not sure I have it in me to do it…. I just don't.






​Shattered Lives Series
Genre: Dark Suspense/Thriller ~ Romantic Suspense




~ My Own Nightmare ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


~ Somewhere I Belong ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


~ Shatter Me Whole ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


~ Sparks of Deception ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


*


The Cowboy Way Series
Genre: Cowboy Contemporary Romance




~ Wrangled By Love ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


*


A Rescue Series Novella
Genre: Romantic Suspense




~ A Marshall’s Courage ~
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


*


~ Primal Darkness ~
Genre: Dark Paranormal Romantic Thriller


Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


**
Each book in these series’s can be read as a stand alone
All of the above books are available in KU


*


~ Dirty Fairy Tales Anthology ~
Genre: Erotic - PNR - Fantasy


Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


*All ebook sales go to help the Autism Society of SW Florida.


~Meet Barb Shuler~


I’m a Carolina Girl by right and a Texan by birth. Best of both worlds. I have the brass sass to keep up with my Texas sized temper. Living and working in both states i’ve learned a lot about hard work, adapting to your surroundings and making the best of the path that you have been led down. My grandma Dollie once told me I would know what I was meant to do when it happened. She was right, as always.
As with most book lovers, I am an avid reader. Reading has always been a hobby - a passion, really and a way to get lost in other people’s lives, their drama and other worlds. It’s a private movie in your imagination that you get to cast and navigate through, at your own pace. Reading helps to expand the perimeters of one's mind. That is what got me into writing. Writing has been something that I have done since I was a kid. If I had paper, I was writing. Nine out of ten times it made no sense but what are words if they are not to be used to your advantage? Words are a part of us all. Why not use them, right?
During the day I work as a ‘desk jockey’ and help the residents of my county navigate themselves around our little, but not too little country town. By night I am either blogging with my best friends, doing PA work for some of my favorite authors or fighting with the voices in my head. They can be stubborn at times. It’s a blessing and I am cherishing every moment. Tomorrow is never guaranteed so I want to make sure I live the day as fully as possible. For what is my creation, can become someone else's treasure.


~ Connect with Barb here ~