Tag Archives: survival

Release Blitz: Deserted by Cara Dee

Deserted | Cara Dee

Auctioned #3

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Blurb

Gray Nolan had survived a kidnapping where he was supposed to have been auctioned off to the highest bidder. He had also survived being stranded on an island, under siege from a different set of foes, and throughout the hell they’d all endured, their motto had been “Leave no man behind.”

Recovery was different. Gray wanted to be left alone to fight his demons—and to get over the attachment he’d formed for the man who’d saved him more than once. But in a time when darkness threatened to consume him, salvation arrived as he set out to uphold the promise he’d made to a friend. Eight-year-old Jayden stormed into his life, fresh off the streets of Philadelphia, and lit up Gray’s bleak existence.

Darius Quinn had known that Gray was going to close himself in and run away after everything they’d been through. But he was determined to follow and watch over the young man who should have been just a paycheck. Something about Gray prevented Darius from staying in his preferred role of passive observer, and he couldn’t let Gray carry out his last commitment alone.

What started out as a cross-country road trip to guide them home to Washington was quickly turning into a journey with a destination that scared the life out of Darius. He’d never wanted that kind of future before, and now he was gearing up to fight for it.

Deserted is the third book in the Auctioned Series, following Auctioned and Stranded.

Rifle Training

Excerpt

“Malley!”

Gray whipped around toward the entrance of the church and the source of the loud, unmistakably young voice. Could that be Jayden? Hell, it had to be. Those pale brown eyes haunted Gray every night.

The boy stalked down the aisle, aiming for Father O’Malley, and shrugged and smirked when the priest reminded him to keep his voice down in the church. Father O’Malley was amused, and he ruffled the boy’s shaggy hair.

Gray’s heart pounded when he observed the kid. It was Jayden. He had no doubt. Little things came back to him, insignificant mannerisms he hadn’t paid attention to before, but now it was so clear. He remembered how Jonas’s forehead creased and how he’d scratch his shoulder when he was working something out in his head. Jayden was doing the same thing right now. Whatever Father O’Malley said to him made the boy quiet down and think hard.

How did Jayden survive on his own? Gray found himself with a pile of questions that built up quickly. Or rather, the urgency to have them answered increased. Philadelphia couldn’t be an easy city to live in. For chrissakes, the kid was eight.

Gray had avoided one follow-up question for days, though now he couldn’t hold it back any longer. He had to face the reality and come up with a plan to actually help the boy. He did have a place in mind, but what if Jayden didn’t agree? To him, Gray was a complete stranger.

So…what happened next?

Jayden seemed fidgety and restless, and he nodded jerkily when Father O’Malley said something and gestured toward Gray.

Shit. This was it. He was gonna have to tell this little boy he’d lost his only family member.

Gray swallowed hard, struck by a wall of sadness. Jonas was supposed to be here, goddammit. The rage followed so easily. Imagine. Fucking hell. Surviving a whole year with that organization, then getting away, and just when you were granted a taste of freedom…

Jayden walked over to Gray with rapid steps, and he unzipped his coat halfway and pulled off his scarf.

Holy shit, he really looked like his brother. Gray catalogued the traits and couldn’t tear his gaze away. The eyes were the same. More than shape and color; Jayden’s eyes had seen too much too. His face had a bit more roundness to it than Jonas’s had had, but Jayden still had a hint of hardness to his features. His jaw was set, his eyes missed nothing, his shoulders were stiff, and he was white-knuckling that scarf in his hand.

Jayden reached Gray and didn’t hesitate to slump down next to him. “Jonas is dead, right?”

Christ.

Gray cleared his throat, his mind racing to sort his jumbled thoughts. There was no protocol for this kind of thing. Well, there probably was for professionals.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” Gray said quietly.

“Fuck,” Jayden whispered. He nodded once and looked away. Gray heard him sniffle. “I knew it.” Then he growled and kicked the pew in front of them, eliciting a thump that flew through the church. “I knew he was dead.”

“Jayden—” Gray’s heart broke for the kid, and he carefully put a hand on Jayden’s shoulder. “He talked about you a lot. He tried his hardest to come back to you. It was all he wanted.”

Jayden’s chin wrinkled, and he visibly struggled to contain his emotions.

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About The Author

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly. Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

Additionally, I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and cupcakes, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

Social Media

Website: https://www.caradeewrites.com/ 

Website: https://www.camassiacove.com/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cara-Dee/e/B00DZLLJA6/

Facebook Page:https://www.facebook.com/caradeewrites/

Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/caradeewrites/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cara-dee

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CaraDeeWrites

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carawrites/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6936449.Cara_Dee

Rifle Training

 

Xin and the Agent is a perfect adventure romp romance

46642777._SY475_Black Sky Morning by Hanna Dare

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Xin and Jonathan Gray is a match made not quite in Heaven but in the inky black reaches of deepest space and it’s brilliant.

The rakish bounty hunter and the Commonwealth Agent couldn’t be more different if they tried but deep down, both are lost and looking to find meaning as they traverse the vast universes which make up this fantastic series.

Their paths have been converging since book one but here they finally clash in an epic tale of survival and intrigue on a long lost planet in the furthest corner of the galaxy.

I’ve loved each book in this series, with their mix of Farscape space adventures and Anne McCaffrey’s sentient ships, found family and men filled with honour fighting for lost causes and a new future.

For most of this book I had no clue where the narrative would take me and it was awesome as each twist was revealed.

I’m really hoping there’s going to be a final book to wrap it all up as I’m getting a feeling Agents Abrams and Digby might have secrets of their own too and I want to know if Ebba ever finds Novalie.

#ARC kindly received from the author in return for an honest and unbiased review.

View all my reviews

New Release Blitz: In The Palm by Elna Holst

In The Palm | Elna Holst

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Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 20, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 25,500

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Blurb

Stranded on a tropical island, Dr No-Name has no mobile phone, no wallet, no keys, no passport. No left hand, no shoes and no memory.

What she does have is a blister pack of nicotine gums, two minibar-sized bottles of whisky (consumed), and what appears to be an endless supply of coconuts.

She can’t possibly get into any worse trouble, can she?

Excerpt

In the Palm
Elna Holst © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
I am drunk and about to chop my hand off. There is a correlation between these two states of being, or becoming; but it isn’t that I am crazed and delirious from the alcohol. On this short notice, it’s the only anaesthetic available to me—and the hand needs to go.

Despite my grogginess on first coming to, I recognised the symptoms of a necrotising infection: the tissue death eating away at my digits—the fifth and the second are already black, all but falling off on their own—the red and purple nebulae spreading over the back of my hand, my palm, inching up towards my wrist.

I need to amputate. I need to amputate right now, if there’s even the remotest possibility the bacteria haven’t reached any of my vital organs yet.

There will be time enough for questions later—with a little, or rather a freighter-shipload of luck. Because I do have questions. Like, where am I?

Who am I?

What am I doing here?

Checking that I have my penknife at the ready, I start tightening my primitively devised tourniquet: a stick and a belt. It’s like something out of a survivalist’s wet, apocalyptic nightmare.

Fortunately—incomprehensibly—there were two minibar-sized bottles of whisky in the sorry, debris-filled excuse of a handbag I had slung over my shoulder, caught at my hip, and wound across my chest in a way that restricted my breathing when I regained consciousness. I was alone, drenched and shivering like a stray, on this abandoned strip of beach in No Place.

Maybe I’m a recovering alcoholic. It would explain the blackout. But it seems unlikely, since the spirits performed their magic after just a gulp or two, offering a warm, tingly sensation that managed to put a cap on my agony, strengthening my resolve.

I am not going to get the tourniquet any tighter. My right hand is shaking as I reach for the puny knife, making sure I have the rags I have torn out of my shirt within easy access.

“This is going to hurt so bad.” I tell the knife conversationally—like the drunk I am, at present—and I am struck by a thought that makes me laugh grimly. “I sure hope I’m not a leftie.”

Screaming like a banshee to get my adrenaline pumping, I swing the blade down over my left wrist with as much force as I can muster.

Chapter Two
So hot. So hot, yet so cold, yet so hot, all the same. Stars dance before my eyes, and it could have been delirium, but no: it’s the night sky. An endless, otherworldly expanse vaulting above my head like an exploded piñata, each star a soaring, scintillating scrap of space. I have never seen a night sky like this before; I’m quite certain, though who will take the word of an amnesiac, a fevered amnesiac, lying in the sand—the impossibly fine white sand, like snow (if only it were snow, I muse through the wool in my brain, to cool the flames within) beside her severed hand? How did I manage? How could I have cut through bone with nothing but a penknife, even if it is a high-quality, all-the-trimmings sort of blade? I have bled through my ad hoc bandages—have I? No, they’re good, if grimy.

“Water.” I want to tell the coyly twinkling stars overhead, but my cracked lips won’t cooperate. “Wa-eh,” I actually say, breathe; and tears of hurt—and gratitude, because yes, I am in fact still breathing—stream down my immobile face, pooling in the shells of my ears.

“Need.” I try next and snort because it comes out as “Nee” and this seems funny, somehow; I can’t explain.

I am waging a losing war against unconsciousness. I probably won’t wake again, I think morosely. And then, as the sky looks to be falling…falling on top of me, the very universe ready to claim me as fair game. Oh, but it’s been grand. I can’t remember the particulars, but I think I enjoyed the ride.

About The Author

Often quirky, always queer, Elna Holst is an unapologetic genre-bender who writes anything from stories of sapphic lust and love to the odd existentialist horror piece, reads Tolstoy, and plays contract bridge. Find her on Instagram or Goodreads.


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