Category: giveaway

Marietta Hotels Book 1

by
Rachell Nichole

Genre: Contemporary Romance

After one glance of silky
skin and talented fingers, Tyler Lachlan doesn’t stand a chance of
resisting the delicious distraction of the mystery woman from the
Marietta Hotel. He’s sure there’s more to her than her sultryvoice and mahogany thighs, but he doesn’t know if he’s willing to
risk his career to find out.

Could what began as a voyeuristic
affair across Times Square develop into something more?

The
Chosen Ones – Thy Will Be Done, is a riveting thriller about a
woman’s fight to uncover the genetic code to life itself and tobring to the world The Book of Man. Mara McClurg has been
missing for five years. She leaves behind two daughters who have
grown into young women beneath a blanket of lies and secrecy. When
the US government discovers that a private sector research facility
(GenTech) has broken the genetic code, Mara is sent to recover the
book of man.

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THE BEGINNING OR THE END

It was the thirteenth of December in the year 2000. A day planned to gather in Washington. A
day planned to ignite the flames of euthanasia and the aftermath of genetic restructuring. Carol
looked solemnly over Pennsylvania Avenue and sensed the restlessness around her.
Blackness covered the masses, like the Sword of Damocles. Carol had been warned about
this time of sheer unrest and total chaos; a time when man would rise in the aftermath and
barricade the wrongs of humanity. “The Angel of Death” had spoken from beyond. Wherever
she was, dead or alive, Mara still reigned. Carol admired, loved and hated her all at the same
time.
Five years had passed since Mara’s disappearance, and in that time, Carol watched her
uncanny prophecy come true. The country was groveling for answers. They pleaded for cures
that financially eluded them, and they begged for the gifts of genetic restructuring. They wanted
clear, scientific guidelines to follow, and they wanted to know that the benefits of the research
would be available to everyone. In the end, and if cures were not within reach, they wanted the
right to die with dignity. It was indeed, obvious, that Mara’s fight lived on in the hearts of the
American public. She lived it, breathed it and probably even died for it. Indeed, death and the
right to die with dignity became her life.
Carol wrestled with her thoughts, as the angry protestors pushed vigorously against her. Back
and forth, she thrashed inside the angry crowd. Signs bobbed up and down above her. One
after another, the messages were imbedded in her psyche.
“Cure us, or give us the right to die with dignity.”
“Only God can choose.”
“Your animals don’t suffer. So, why does your mother?”
“Starve them to death. It’s easier than making a decision.”
“HMOs survive on the suffering of others.”
“Even criminals get lethal injection.”
The slogans roared on and on in Carol’s mind, piercing her sharply. The roar of the crowd filled
her ears, and the closeness of shoulder-to-shoulder contact welled fear inside her. What
appeared to be a peaceful congregation was now becoming an angry mob. An uncanny retake
of the sixties race riots. Carol raised her hands to protect her face from the glass bottles being
hurled into the crowd. Trapped within a wall of people, she feared no escape. Unable to
envision a way out, she screamed aloud. The sidewalk seemed a million miles from safety, a
million miles from reach. Desperately she pushed and squeezed, hoping to fight her way to
safety. But, the force around her prevailed. The strength of the crowd intensified, and she was
pushed to the ground like a rag doll. Carol struggled to regain her footing, but the movement of
the crowd sent her plummeting to the pavement once again. Hiking boots and tennis shoes
crushed her frail fingers. Blood oozed from her knuckles.
“Help, help,” she cried.
A large, strong hand became visible. Carol grabbed for it but couldn’t quite reach it. Twice,
she thrust her body forward attempting to connect with the hand of the Good Samaritan. Then
he pushed downward and grasped her hand. Quickly, Carol was pulled to her feet and
encircled by a strong arm around her waist. The mass of the man’s body pushed through the
crowd, Carol’s frail, limp body in tow. He pushed to the curbside and then onward to the park
benches. He saved her from being trampled to death.
“You alright Miss?” said the kindly voice.
Carol gasped for her first breath and nodded, “Thank you.” The gesture wasn’t remotely
enough to express her gratitude.
“I’m Sergeant Mulchahey, US Marine Corp,” he said. “Glad to help. Besides, a girl like you
shouldn’t be out here all alone.”
Carol smiled and thanked him again. Little did he know that in reality she had been alone for
most of her life anyway. Carol tried to stand, but she was trembling so badly that her legs
dropped from beneath her.

“You’re bleeding, Missy,” said Mulchahey. “Let me help you to your car.” His arms once again
surrounded her; she felt safe and secure.
“My car is about a block from here, Sergeant. I appreciate your help, but you really don’t …”
“Nonsense,” replied the Sergeant. “You’re still shaking up a storm. I doubt if you could make it
on your own.”
She laughed aloud and smiled. “You’re right,” replied Carol. “Thank you.”
Carol sat in the car for a while to recover her strength, but the tremors continued. Her pants
were torn at the knees. The scrapes seemed deep and needed cleaning. She reached for the
glove compartment. “Thank God for baby wipes,” she whispered. Carol gently cleaned the
scratches on her face and hands and then attempted the knees. That was a job for later. She
rested her head on the steering wheel, looked at the rear view mirror and started the car. She
couldn’t wait to go home. Upset and still shaking, she fought through the maze of city traffic
toward the serenity of suburban roads. As she drove along, a sense of calm began to blanket
her. It was then that she realized what a blessing it was to be safe and secure. Mara passed
in and out of her thoughts. It had been sometime since Mara’s ghost had pierced her memory
so deeply. It was time to tell her daughters the truth about her, time for them to know why.

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With
a milestone birthday approaching, Liz is determined to live a little.
And when her best friend, Anne, gifts her a ticket for a 10-dayluxury cruise, Liz decides it’s the perfect excuse to experience
new things, and just take some time to relax with some of her
favorite women. But her idea of a relaxing vacation gets thrown
overboard when a few surprise guests make an appearance and attempt
to win their way back into Liz’s heart.

With
a second chance at life…and love, turning 50 never felt better.

Liz feigned shock. “Excuse me, but are you implying that I’ve become boring?”
Anne laughed heartily. “Your words!”
Liz placed a hand on her chest, still acting offended.
“Well, I did have to practically beg you come on the cruise with me,” Anne said, averting
eye contact with Liz.
“You bought me a ticket for my birthday! Of course, I was going to agree to go.”
Anne shrugged a shoulder. “I was just saying that reading about burping babies and sex
once a year on your anniversary got a little stale.” Anne sipped her wine, then muttered, “A lot
less fun than reading about your best shag partner, anyway.”
Liz’s eyes widened but she had no retort. Anne was right. But adulthood was relatively
boring. She peered out to the crashing waves. “I think I saw him today. In Atlanta.”
Anne’s eyebrows knit together. “Who? Your best shag mate?” She giggled at her own
joke and took another swig from her glass.
“Seriously.”
“Seriously your best shag mate?”
Liz playfully patted Anne’s shoulder. “His name is James!”
“James. Shag Master. Whatever. When you were seeing him, the sex was all you wrote
about.”
Liz rolled her eyes then nodded slightly, silently admitting to the accusation. “Okay, yes,
he was incredible. But that wasn’t the only thing that was perfect between us. And after he left, I
don’t think there was a day that went by that I didn’t think about him.”
“That was so long ago, Liz.”
“I know. But every once in awhile, I wonder ‘what if’, you know? Not that you can live
your life always thinking about the ‘what could have beens’. But sometimes I wonder if he
would have stayed, if we would have lasted. I think we both knew in the back of our minds that it
would be short term. No commitments. Maybe that’s what made our relationship so amazing.”
Liz stared blankly out onto the horizon, lost in the past. “If he had stayed, we probably wouldn’t
have lasted. That’s what I’ve spent the last 30 years convincing myself of anyway.”Anne sighed and dramatically said, “Alas, we may never know. But I do know that any
man would be a complete prat to leave you under any other circumstances.” Anne held her glass
up. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Liz tapped her glass to Anne’s. “And cheers to us turning 50!”
“Absolutely cheers to that! To our birthday cruise.” They clinked glasses again then both
sat in silence, taking in the peaceful sound of the waves hitting the sand.

2.
Liz was still gaping at the man

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https://cine-books.com/projects/kristen-fa530/down-the-rabbit-hole

Genre:Paranormal Romance

Torn
by duty and love, will they fight for their forbidden love or will
they succumb to the Romeo and Juliet tragedy that awaits them.

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https://cine-books.com/projects/kristen-fa530/a-sandmans-fobidden-love

Life
was simple.

That
is until fate decided to mess around and not only place his mate inthe picture but also a dying Angel that fell from the sky with her
baby. In a single moment his life was forever changed. Protect the
hybrid child to serve good and keep her out of the Lucifer’s hands.
If evil was to get a hold of her she would be the world’s
undoing.

Life
for Mia hasn’t went well since leaving Ouray and everything she had
ever known. Then by chance she meets Ash Stormcloud and his adoptive
daughter, Tibby. Tibby is a beautiful child and Ash is alluring,
pulling her in a way that other men never have done before. Things
take a turn for the better until Damon, Tibby’s father, and Alpha of
the HellHound pack decides to come searching for Tibby. In a fight of
good versus evil, who will win?

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Sky
had hoped Jack would chump it up to the heat of the moment and his
wild imagination. But he seems to think otherwise. Will she be able
to convince him he was seeing things or risk revealing her true self
to him? As their worlds collide and passion unfold will they be able
to fight what’s coming for them? What would you do to save the one
you love?

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 The

human tempted by Satan himself and sinned, causing not only the earth
to be cursed but her and Adam as well.

 Is

there redemption for her?

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by
Kristen Collins

A
young Moabitess in a foreign land who has lost everything, but will a
chance encounter and her faith be enough to save her and her
mother-in-law from a lifetime destined for poverty?

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I
like to explore to new types of characters such as Sandmen and
Boogeymen for example. I really wanted to give them their own world.
Such as A Sandman’s Forbidden Love. “This book plagued my dreams
every night till I got it all out.”

Now
Angels are also a part of my obsession, I will sit on the computer
doing extensive research on both Sandmen and Angels trying to get my
facts straight.

Then,
I also create Art Journals that can be cross generational from
thirteen to sixty years younger, My goal with these types of books
are to reach people who need that extra feel good in their lives.

 

https://cine-books.com/projects/kristen-fa530/a-sandmans-fobidden-love

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Robert
has worked in network design, administration and security. He
recently transitioned from a job managing a digital forensics team
(supporting investigations) to Enterprise Architecture. That’s his
day job. At night, he writes.

This
author writes thrillers (psychological, suspense, crime and horror).
Pick one up if you like that sort of thing.

Website

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With a hard tug, my blade sank deep into his neck, easily through the jugular and carotid, then
through the gristle of his trachea. There would be no call for help as life pulsed from him. The
remaining vessels cut like butter. I lowered his emptying form to the ground. Adrenaline kicked
his heart into high gear and the oozing current of blood became a flowing torrent.
A flash of panic lit his eyes and he mouthed something. It was inaudible beneath the weak
gurgles and clucks. Then the light in his eyes went dim.
That was our plan, it was going to happen, nothing could stop it. I had no control over it, him, or
myself.
I opened my eyes as a figure emerged from the side of the building. The darkness shrouding
the alleyway veiled him. He cursed a fixture above the door, the fixture from which I had earlier
smashed the bulb.
On that night, black clouds had refused to allow the moon to glow. A solitary street light, from
the far end of the passage, cast light which danced on his jingling keys as he fumbled for the
lock.
As I looked on, Devil hissed into my ear, “Let’s do this already!” His hot, wet breath was like that
of a dog—a hungry dog. I wiped the spit from my cheek and glanced over at him. I had seen
that look before.
“Shhhh,” I urged.
That expression, the look in his eyes brought me back.
The dark figure finished with the lock, then turned to walk down the backstreet. He had parked
his car behind the building, as he did every night. That ensured he would walk by the dumpster
which served as our blind. Pungent odors of rotting food wafted from the big metal box we hid
beside. The stench stung my nose and watered my eyes—doubt clouded my mind.
“He’s coming, get ready.”“Yeah… I’m not sure about this one,” I answered, remembering how I was rushed—pressured—
into setting it up so fast. I never liked to pull same-day jobs. It didn’t leave time for planning. And
the wild look in his eyes, was it excitement, anticipation, desperation? I couldn’t tell, even
though I had seen
it so many times before. He looked right at me, but through me, with panic, yet focus—such
focus.
“Screw that,” he jeered. “You did the damn research. What’s not to be sure of ?”
“Some research, yeah. The police didn’t have enough to charge this guy.”
“Damn it Tyler, you read what he did to that kid—you know he did it. And you know we don’t
have a choice!” he hissed while giving me a little shove.
“Ease up, man,” I barked back, returning the shove.
“Hello?” The man in the alley probed. “Who’s back there?”
Devil and I leaned back, deeper into the shadow of the dumpster.
“Hey… are you okay? Who’s back there?”
As the footsteps approached, my instincts kicked in. I reached back, felt the cold metal of my
knife, slid it from my belt and got ready. The echoing footfalls stopped, inches from where we
were crouched.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure the man just around the corner heard it aloud. Adrenaline
coursed through me. I focused on controlling my breathing. The images—evidence—we had
gathered flashed through my head like a sequential montage, each one delivering a stabbing
pain to my temples.
I saw red, nothing but red. In a pain-driven blood lust, I sprang from the shadows and struck.
Devil laughed as he fought to pull me off the decimated corpse.
“Tyler, let’s go. It’s done. We gotta get outta here.”
I wiped sweat and blood from my face and tried to compose myself. I stood on shaky wickets,
looking down, and thought, Oh my god, did I do that?
I had the same disbelief every time.

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