Category: book tour

If Taine survives,popping the question should be a breeze.

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Malum
is deeply in love with Jade and is only agenda is to give her the
world… Or so he claims. Blindly followed by his people, the Luxans,
he works tirelessly to keep them safe from the Rebels, with Jade by
his side. Surely his motives are pure… yet, the more time Jade
spends with him, the further she seems to fall from herself.

All
the while, Jade is plagued by vivid dreams of another life… one she
struggles to understand while Malum works to make her forget. As Jade
struggles to hold onto her soul and discover her past, Malum seeks to
possess all that she is.

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Inbetween writing, MJ enjoys reading, collecting music and attending
concerts. Lux is the first installment in the Veritas series which is
MJ’s first published work.

I sense Malum before he speaks, and I can’t help stiffening at his presence. Despite my best efforts, my
dreams still cling to me like spider webs — a most unwelcome feeling. “I am relieved to see you awake,
Pet,” his voice rumbles from the far side of the bed. His tone matches the floor: icy. I keep my focus on
the windowpane opposite me. I am too far away to truly see my reflection or his. But I don’t need to see
him to picture the expression on his face —an arrogant mask of indifference. His eyes are always his tell.
They will be flashing periodically with anger, lightning to match the thunder in his speech. I let the
seconds tick by to see if he continues his lecture, but he says no more. Without warning, he appears out
of thin air, before me. From where I sit, my eyes rest on his sculpted chest, but I can see that he is
dressed in form-fitting black pants and nothing else. Malum’s bronzed skin glistens with sweat, which is
another surprise. We hadn’t been having sex. At least not that I remember. Why on earth is he
sweating? Running and training aren’t things he participates in. I allow my crawl up, tracing the lines of
his muscles, until I meet his eyes. As expected, his expression is haughty and tight. Anger crackles about
him, and I know I must tread carefully. The problem is that I don’t know the exact reason for his anger.
My failed mission? Losing to Jager? Visiting the dream reality? I highly doubted he was concerned for my
wellbeing. I train my features to stay as neutral as I can make them and wait for the tirade to begin.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but little good that does me. Looking back on the situation, I realize it
wouldn’t have mattered how I looked at my master.
My punishment is at hand either way. Malum is going to teach me a lesson, a painful one. A lesson I’d
never recover from. If I’d just said that one word sooner, I could have avoided the entire situation. But
stubbornness and pride got the better of me. Sinner to the core, in more ways than one.
“You failed, Pet.” A clawed hand reaches and gently tucks a stray strand behind my ear. My breath
catches in my throat. A clawed hand? My eyes slide sideways to look at the unnatural black claws that
are protruding out of my lover’s fingers. I rack my brain for any memory of claws, and none present
themselves. Black eyes? Yes. Knives for hands? No. I plead with my heart to calm its frantic pumping, but
it does not listen.
“I told you to bring Jager to me. I told you exactly where he would be and how many would be there. I
provided you with everything, and yet you come back to me poisoned and delirious. I sucked your
poison out, Jade, took it into myself.” Malum hisses the last words, and I dare to glance back at his face.
The demon’s eyes are black as I’d seen them while we came together, but now thin lines of crimson
trickle throughout. They resemble a field of lava that has partially cooled and hardened. The surface is
black, but cracks show where the boiling magma still lies, waiting to be released. I know that once the
inferno bubbling within Malum is released, I will be incinerated. Only this time, there will be no pleasure
with it. Malum trails his index claw along the side of my face. Applying slight pressure, he forces me to
lift my chin as high as I can to keep from being sliced by the razor-sharp talon.
“You’ve ruined my plans and allowed the Rebels to go unscathed with their charge. I needed it killed,
Pet. We needed it killed.” He allows his dagger like appendage to rest just under my jaw, at the softest
point, where it could sever my flesh easily. “I cannot allow this to go unpunished, Jade, unless you will
finally accept my offer.” There it is, the crux of his irritation with me lately. I’d denied him at every turn,
and thus far, Malum had been forgiving. I can tell he won’t be any longer.

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‘You
NEED to read this. Your family needs to read this, your friends needto read this, your children … NEED to read this’
–
JenacideByBibliophile

Manipulators are everywhere. At first
these devious and calculating people can be hard to spot, because
that is their way. They are often masters of disguise: witty,
disarming, even charming in public – tricks to snare their prey –
but then they revert to their true self of being controlling and
angry in private. Their main aim: to dominate and use others to
satisfy their needs, with a complete lack of compassion and empathy
for their victim.

In this collection of short novellas, you
meet people like you and me, intent on living happy lives, yet each
of them, in one way or another, is caught up and damaged by a
manipulative individual.

First you meet Tess, whose past is
haunted by a wrong decision, then young, successful and well balanced
Sophie, who is drawn into the life of a little boy and his troubled
father. Next, there is teenage Holly, who is intent on making a
better life for herself, followed by a manipulator himself, trying to
make sense of his irreversible incarceration. Lastly, there is Lisa,
who has to face a parent’s biggest regret. All stories highlight to
what extent abusive manipulation can distort lives and threaten our
very feeling of self-worth.

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Helene
has a particular interest in emotional, psychological and social
well-being and this led her to write her first novel, Manipulated
Lives, a fictional collection of five novellas, each highlighting the
dangers of interacting with narcissists.

She
lives with her husband and two children in Portugal.

‘Are you playing hard to get then?’ He was right there, slumped in one of the chairs in the far
corner of the café, watching her walk through the door.Theaccusation was written all over his
face and she instantly felt guilty. She had not been able to see him through the café window but,
rather than completely give up on the possibility that he had turned up, she decided to enter and
give the place a quick scan.
He added one of his irresistible winks to his reproach and lifted his hand to indicate the empty
chair next to him. His legs were confidently spread open and for a brief moment she thought
that he looked like a younger version of Theo James.He had the same brown eyes and full lips,
thick blond hair that seemed to style easily and a lean body which looked good in any clothes.
Added to his appearance, he knew how to disarm a girl with an assertive, deep gaze and a
smile that conveyed cocky self-confidence.
Her knees felt like jelly and her heart was racing so fast now that it felt as if it was on the brink of
bursting through her chest. She grabbed the handle of her bag to settle her shaking hand. She
wondered what her friends would have to say about all of this. She had never exchanged a
single hello with this guy ever since he joined the school last year, yet a brief chat in the
morning had now meant they
were looking into each other’s eyes as if they’d always wanted to be together. This was what
falling in love at first sight must feel like, she thought. The only thing was though, she told
herself in an attempt to sober her excitement, that this was not first sight. Next, she felt his handreach out to hers, patting it gently. It made her feel like an inexperienced little girl, which she
knew she was.
Don’t spoil this Holly, pull yourself together, her voice muttered in her head.
‘What would you like to drink?’
Holly sat down on the empty seat he had kept for her, placing her bag at her feet and shrugged
her shoulders, suggesting a 7 Up.
He returned to the table with a glass and a can and she was amazed about how confident he
was at starting a conversation, talking about himself and how soon they were engaged in
general chitchat. It was when her mobile beeped with a new message that she realised the time
and that her mum would wonder where she was. It was her job to look out for her two brothers
until her parents arrived
home for dinner.
She gathered her bag, giggling with him now, already more at ease and relaxed.
‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ Holly said, but before she was able to get up and say good-bye, he was
by her side, leaning towards her ear and whispering.
‘Don’t ever make me wait again, babe.’ She looked up in shock, and then sighed with relief
when she saw him smiling and blowing her an air kiss and reaching his right hand to her cheek
to stroke it with his index finger. ‘Wow, I’ve never met a girl with such perfect skin.’ Her cheeks
prickled just hearing his words. Compliments did seem to come easy to him but they felt
wonderful, even though he was clearly quite full of himself. Don’t make me wait again, he’d said,
as if he was some kind of VIP.
‘Oh, and best not tell anyone we’re seeing each other. They’ll just make fun of us. OK? See you
tomorrow.’ She nodded and before she could say anything else, he winked one more time and
was out of the door.
She was almost out on the pavement herself when she heard a gruff voice coming from the
counter.
‘Oi, you’ve not paid for your drink, young lady.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I thought my friend paid for me.’ She ruffled through her bag and fished out a few
coins, handing them over the counter to the lady’s outstretched palm.
‘A right friend that is then, eh?’
‘Ah, he must have forgotten.He was in a real rush. I’m really sorry.’
Her cheeks were crimson, this time with embarrassment.
‘That’s alright, pet. You watch who you go out with.’ The lady shook her head slightly and her
forehead was still set in a frown as Holly left.
She was fuming with anger.How could he have forgotten to pay? He seemed to have made it so
clear that he’d invited her for a drink. Or had he? Maybe she had been assuming too much. He
was just a student too, and it had been their first date.

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The
perfect career became the perfect nightmare. Now the only solution isfor Colton Paine to leave his life behind to enter the Witness
Security Program. Though he has many regrets, abandoning Savana
Wyler, just as she’s entering remission from cancer—and before he
has a chance to tell her he loves her—rips his heart out. But
Colton will do whatever it takes to protect her, even leave
forever.

Relocated
to a tiny northern Washington tourist town, Colton fights to regain
his footing in a new life constructed of lies. Haunted by thoughts of
Savana, he breaks the rules and keeps track of her. When the same
people who want him dead appear on Savana’s news broadcasts, it
becomes clear leaving wasn’t the answer.

Convinced
Savana is left unprotected, Colton abandons WitSec in a desperate
attempt to save her. But did his impetuous actions endanger them
both?

Tomorrow
was never more uncertain.

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RM
Alexander is an author of romantic suspense. With driven characters
who suffer the worst kinds of betrayals, RM’s novels promise a good
read with unexpected twists and turns. 

When
she’s not writing, RM spends time with her husband and two children.
She loves to travel, especially to Walt Disney World, and is addicted
to orange juice and Ghiradelli chocolate. She is often found on
Twitter and Facebook chatting with other authors and readers.

NEVER AGAIN:
Rush hour. Why did it have to be rush hour?
Ken Shepherd groaned as he darted and zagged through the Denver traffic, horn blaring as he screeched
by passing cars. Nearby drivers swerved in a panic as he tore past, but they didn’t have a reason to be
afraid. Specialized training taught him how to drive, and how to stay cool under pressure.
He zipped in between a gray sedan and navy van. No problem with the driving although he felt anything
but cool. Instead, perspiration beaded his forehead as Ken checked the time. It’d been ten minutes since
the call came through, and every passing second could be the difference between life and death for the
witness.
How things got so out of control… Local patrol had been assigned to keep Nate Dunnican safe. If he died,
someone would have to answer for the failure.
Ken’s eyes narrowed, questions playing over in his mind. Why he got the call was a mystery, and how
Nate got the private number a bigger one. Ken wasn’t the man’s attorney or his protector. As an FBI agent,
Ken’s job had been arresting Nate, bringing him in to face the charges. From there, Nate’s case had been
turned over to other agents who arranged for him to rat on his organized crime buddies. So why would he
come back to Ken?
Ken’s jaw set in a cold, hard line. It didn’t matter. The call didn’t bother him nearly as much as the fear in
Nate’s voice.
“I’m going to die,” he had said, “I’ll die if you don’t come here now.”
Something in the words screamed of truth: the desperate, raw kind that ripped at a man’s core and stripped
him bare. The chill clung to his bones and, though Ken knew he shouldn’t care, no one would ignore that
kind of terror.
Ken sped through the last red light, gritted his teeth, glanced at the clock again. Fifteen minutes since the
call. Nate hadn’t said if anyone else was in the house, or where the threat was coming from, but fifteen
minutes was long if someone wanted to kill him. The turn of a dime, a single second, and the key witness
would be dead. If he made it time, Ken thought, the plan was to get Nate through the night. After the trial,
Nate would leave the city for good. Ken gripped the steering wheel. Agents thought the substantial risk of
bringing him back to New York could be managed. Clearly, they were wrong.
A mixer truck barreled into the intersection and Ken tore at the wheel as he swerved and narrowly missed
a collision. He grumbled and stomped the gas pedal as he glanced in the rearview mirror. The truck
skidded to a stop behind him and avoided hitting another car by a fraction of an inch. Any other time, Ken
would have stopped and checked on everyone, but there was no time for that now. Nate waited.
Ken pulled into the post-war neighborhood. For the most part, a quiet suburb with little crime. A decent
place to hide a safe house where witnesses could feel a sense of security. But there were always
exceptions to every rule, and Ken searched for hints of those exceptions as he raced past two blocks of
homes.
The car jolted forward as Ken threw it into park in front of a tiny brick bungalow. He glanced around. No
one on the streets, no apparent threat. He pulled the sidearm from his holster and stepped onto the
sidewalk. The small brick home appeared quiet enough. Maybe Nate panicked with what he was about to
do the next day in coming face-to-face with men who would rather he was dead than ever see the inside of
a courtroom. It was a possibility.
Ken headed up the walkway, careful, gun in hand. His long legs took the two concrete steps in one stride
to a small, open porch. Back against the brick exterior, Ken peeked through one window into a small
living room furnished sparsely with a couple of lawn chairs and a small television. No people. He
shimmied a few inches to another window. Empty dining room littered with clothes, garbage, no
furniture, no people.
Ken knocked on the door, “FBI. Open the door.” No answer. “Nate, open the door or I’m coming in.”
He waited for an answer, then kicked open the door, the molding splintering from around the deadbolt.
Passing the two front rooms he viewed through the front windows, Ken rounded the corner into a galley
kitchen as a gun fired. Nate Dunnican dropped to the floor at Ken’s feet, gray matter and blood spraying
the kitchen. Ken fell back behind the wall. “FBI, drop the weapon!”
No response.
Ken eased around the corner and met the even gaze of a man in his early twenties, far older and meaner in
street years. Dressed in sagging jeans and a black shirt, he was nothing more than a street runner doing
the dirty work for an organization he didn’t understand. “Drop the weapon!”The man responded with narrowed eyes and an icy grin, then raised the gun level with Ken’s chest.
Ken opened fire and the man sunk to the floor with a vacant stare.
He raced to Nate’s side. There was no reason to think the witness may be alive, but Ken knelt and pressed
two fingers against the carotid artery. No pulse. He sunk to the floor next to the body and shook his head.
The young man was dead. All hope for a better future stolen by a single bullet and a lifestyle the average
American fought hard to bury under the carpet.
Sirens blared outside the home and Ken stood, backed away from the body and returned to the sparse
living room. With hands in his pockets, Ken shook his head. He should have waited for backup. Not that
additional man power would have saved Nate, but protocol was protocol for a reason. The boss was going
to have a good firm slap on the wrist ready when he returned to the office.
He glanced down at Nate’s body, and then at the man lying opposite of the witness. Two young lives,
extinguished. Now the first responders would take over, sort through the why’s and how’s, and what
happened next.
For his part, he’d go to court and testify the witness died. With Nate gone, the mafia would slink back into
the shadows, pull more young, impressionable children into a life of guns and money and death. Trapped.
Ken provided the customary statement and left the house in time for the coroner to carry out two body
bags.
A slow ride back to the office gave Ken a chance to think. Reflect. Nate Dunnican could have been better
protected than the services provided by local police. Witness Security would have been a far better option,
one no one ever brought to the table.
But, as he pulled into the U.S. Marshal parking lot, Ken’s mind shifted from Nate to a decision he’d toyed
with in the past. Investigating and arresting criminals was a challenge but not as fulfilling as he’d thought
it would have been when he entered the bureau ten years earlier. He yearned to make a difference, to see
witnesses like Nate Dunnican have a fighting chance to start over. To have better options.
Maybe it was time for a career change.

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After
the death of her parents, Sloan Egan left their Montana ranch
determined to make a difference in the world. Now a prominent surgeon
with an exceptional career in her future, life has turned out exactlyas she expected. Until a government summons arrives with an order to
report to Fort Hood for a top-secret weekend retreat.

Major
Lee Archer’s reassignment as head of military operations at The
Bunker felt more like a prison sentence than a promotion. To make
matters worse, he’s been assigned to babysitting detail, as a group
of the country’s most brilliant young minds come together to test
the vitality of the cutting-edge fallout shelter he commands.

But
the retreat was nothing more than a ploy. One devised to safeguard
the future of humanity, as a catastrophic event renders the world
above uninhabitable.

Or
so they’ve been led to believe.

Those
in charge have a secret. One so horrifying they would do anything to
keep it concealed. Because what lurks beyond The Bunker is deadlier
than anyone could have ever imagined.

And
it’s only a matter of time before it finds a way in.

The room fell silent. President Edward Patterson sat behind a small desk in a make-
shift office with an unnatural stillness. An American Flag hung on the cavern wall behind
him. It took Sloan a moment to realize he too was in The Bunker.
His expression was grave and his normal youthful demeanor was replaced with an
unsmiling, unfocused stare that could only mean one thing: the announcement wasn’t
good.
“My fellow Americans,” President Patterson began, “first, on behalf of our great
country, I would like to personally thank every one of you for joining us this weekend.”
He dropped his head and swallowed so hard the sound echoed off his microphone. Whenhe raised his head, his eyes were wet and bloodshot. “Secondly, I owe each of you an
apology. I’ve always considered myself an honorable man. My word is as important to
me as the air I breathe.” Another extended pause. “It’s with a heavy heart I share with
you my deception.”
The sound of Sloan’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears.
“We brought you here under false pretenses, not out of malice but out of fear. Fear
that without each of you the world as we know it would be lost. I will spare you the
tedious details and get straight to the point.” He lifted his wrist to check the time.
“Approximately five minutes ago, an asteroid close to six miles wide struck the earth. An
asteroid this size is known as a global killer. Over the course of the next few months,
billions of lives will be lost, as will most of the animals and vegetation.”
The room erupted in a mixture of cries and gasps. Sloan couldn’t think. She couldn’t
breathe. This couldn’t be happening.
The room fell silent. President Edward Patterson sat behind a small desk in a make-
shift office with an unnatural stillness. An American Flag hung on the cavern wall behind
him. It took Sloan a moment to realize he too was in The Bunker.
His expression was grave and his normal youthful demeanor was replaced with an
unsmiling, unfocused stare that could only mean one thing: the announcement wasn’t
good.
“My fellow Americans,” President Patterson began, “first, on behalf of our great
country, I would like to personally thank every one of you for joining us this weekend.”
He dropped his head and swallowed so hard the sound echoed off his microphone. When
he raised his head, his eyes were wet and bloodshot. “Secondly, I owe each of you an
apology. I’ve always considered myself an honorable man. My word is as important to
me as the air I breathe.” Another extended pause. “It’s with a heavy heart I share with
you my deception.”
The sound of Sloan’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears.
“We brought you here under false pretenses, not out of malice but out of fear. Fear
that without each of you the world as we know it would be lost. I will spare you the
tedious details and get straight to the point.” He lifted his wrist to check the time.
“Approximately five minutes ago, an asteroid close to six miles wide struck the earth. An
asteroid this size is known as a global killer. Over the course of the next few months,
billions of lives will be lost, as will most of the animals and vegetation.”
The room erupted in a mixture of cries and gasps. Sloan couldn’t think. She couldn’t
breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

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