The true story of one mother living in Zimbabwe, Africa who encounters a devastating loss leaving her unable to care for six children. In a heart-wrenching sacrifice she surrenders to a desperate plan to leave her children and find work in the United States. It is a door which feels impossible to walk through. But perhaps, the only door which holds any promise.
Servie’s Song takes you on an emotional journey of tragedy and heartbreak to an inspiring path of hope. This touching story is complemented by gospel principles which will teach and motivate you to grab onto your faith and move forward trusting that you are never alone. God always hears your prayers.
Heidi Tucker won the 2017 Illumination Award for her first inspirational book Finding Hope in the Journey and her newest release is entitled Servie’s Song. Her passion for writing and speaking about light and hope has inspired thousands. Heidi is known as a great storyteller who motivates us to rise up and find new strength. She teaches how to recognize truth and make a difference.
When Heidi isn’t writing her next book, or speaking at a conference, you’ll find her spending time outdoors with her husband, four grown children and eight grandchildren. She loves sunflowers, hiking, and ice cream … not necessarily in that order.
Servie was startled by a loud wailing noise then realized it was coming from somewhere deep within her chest. A harrowing cry from the darkest depths of despair. Servie knew this place intimately – a place that she had visited too many times. Not another child. How many times could her heart break?
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In MAKE ME WANT, Lucy a bold and confident lawyer seeks the help of her good friend Gideon to reawaken her passion in the bedroom. Fans of Her Naughty Holiday by Tiffany Reisz or Expecting a Royal Scandal by Caitlin Crews will want to one-click this sizzling matchmaker romance.
Pre-order MAKE ME WANT and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get a sneak peek excerpt and enter the giveaway for one of five (5) eBook copies of MAKE ME WANT!
Title: Make Me Want
Author: Katee Robert
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 1, 2018
Publisher: Harlequin Dare
Series: Make Me
Page Count: 159 pages
Format: Digital
ASIN: B071LSKSSG
Sexy. Passionate. Bold.Discover Harlequin DARE, a new line of fun, edgy and sexually explicit romances for the fearless female.
Praise for MAKE ME WANT:“Dare is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author
“I want everything.”
She’s taking control. And it’s driving him wild!
Lucy Baudin’s ex did a number on her self-esteem, but it’s time for her to regain control. In her job as a lawyer she’s bold, confident. But in the bedroom she needs inspiration to reawaken her inner seductress. Asking her friend Gideon Novak for help seems wrong…yet so deliciously right!
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pulled her dress up, though he didn’t need the confirmation. “You come in here with that cock tease of a dress and you aren’t wearing panties.” Jealousy and desire twisted viciously through him. “Were you going to give Aaron a little show?”
“Oh, please. Give me a little credit.” She lifted her chin. “I’m proving a point. You, Gideon Novak, don’t get to make my decisions for me. I appreciate your help, but that’s where it ends.”
She didn’t want him.
He was good enough to fuck but not good enough to listen to.
He kept a white-knuckled grip on his temper because having a knock-down, drag-out fight here and now wasn’t an option for either of them. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t have a right to be pissed. She’d laid out the terms that first day and if he chose to ignore them, that was on him—not on Lucy.
It didn’t make how shitty this situation was any easier to swallow.
Gideon stepped back. “The table. Bend over it.”
Her eyebrows inched up. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a fucking heart attack. I told you what would happen if you showed up like that, and you were all too eager to pick up that gauntlet. Choices have consequences, Lucy. This is one of them.”
She backed toward the table. One step. Two. “The consequences being that you’ll spank my ass red and then fuck me right here.”
She wants it.
It didn’t soothe his temper. If anything, it ratcheted it up a notch. She might want it but she didn’t want him. “The table.”
Lucy turned and, prim as a princess, bent over the table. She seemed to consider and then lowered her chest further until the top half of her body was flush against the polished wood. The position left her ass in the air and had her skirt riding up so he could see how turned on she was by this.
“Which part is getting you?” He stood between her and the door and pushed her dress the last few inches to bare her completely. “The spanking, the defiance, or the fact that we’re in an unlocked room where anyone could walk in—including your fucking date?”
She tilted her ass up, just a little, an offer that made his mouth water. But it was her words that sealed her fate. “All of the above.”
About Katee Robert
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.” When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
After hundreds of years, the gates to Tarragon are open once more, fulfilling age-old prophecy. However, Anwen’s journey is far from over. The dragons still sleep and she has no clue how to wake them. Forced to retreat from the Mountain, she and her newfound friends must devise a new plan to wake the inhabitants of Tarragon.Meanwhile, the Mage Circle, a group of dragon mages with a vendetta, is camped outside the Gates. Calling on allies of their own, they will stop at nothing to gain control of the Dragon City and all who dwell inside.
To complicate matters even more, Anwen’s mother has joined the party. But even with the help of all her friends, can Anwen overcome the ordeals set before her or will this spell the end of the dragons and the world as we know it?
Karlie Lucas is a preschool teacher by day and a writer/artist by night.A graduate of Southern Utah University, Karlie received a B.A. in Creative Writing, with a minor in art. She is a member of Sigma Tau Delta, The International English Honor Society, as well as ANWA, the American Night Writers Association.
Karlie is interested in all things magical and mysterious, especially elves and dragons. She is an avid fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.
When not writing, Karlie can often be found drawing, baking, watching her favorite old school shows, or just spending time with her family.
She currently resides in Dallas, Texas with her husband and a cat named Kally.
Anwen moved to stand, arms down at her sides as she stared ahead, ignoring his reaching hand. “I can see the trees,” she continued. “And the particles that make them. They’re the same. The same as the ones that make up you and me. Like small planets circling miniature suns. I can see the smallest details.” Her eyes widened in awe. “It’s beautiful.”
Tyler stepped forward to stand beside her. Sometimes the plant had allowed such vision, but the cost was usually high. More than a handful with similar sight had gone blind from the experience. That was why it was better for mortals to “hear” everything rather than see it. He only hoped there would be no such resulting repercussions in this instance.
Concentrating, Tyler tried to reach out to the part of his soul that resided within hers. His soul gaze was met with an aura of brilliant golden light, entwined with hints of red and blue. Silver flashed throughout, like a protective cage made of lightning. It seemed to dare anyone to try and displace it.
Anwen turned towards Tyler. The morning sunlight glinted off her auburn hair like little sparks of fire. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, her lips meeting his. Both their hearts thumped like drums in perfect harmony. Despite that, Tyler stood frozen in shock. The kiss was brief but oh so sweet as she pulled away. “You taste like summer,” she observed with a wistful sigh.
Tyler felt rooted to the ground, his eyes wide at her rather unexpected advance. “Um,” he managed, looking at her. “Thank you?” Her eyes had returned to their normal coloring, he noticed. That was a good sign. Perhaps she wouldn’t go blind after all.
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A too-young queen must learn to control her powers in order to save her empire, but can she trust the man who’s taught her to use her gift?
Grab your copy of WEB OF FROST and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at WEB OF FROST!
Title: Web of Frost
Author: Lindsay Smith
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: February 13, 2018
Publisher: Eventide Press
Series: The Saints of Russalka
Page Count: 402 pages
Format: Digitial
ASIN: B078X1K8VP
ISBN-13: 9781370549054
The saints of Russalka work their blessings in mysterious ways, allowing the royal family to perform miracles for their people. But the young princess Katza fears her powers. She’s seen grave visions of her bloodied hands destroying her family’s empire. When her older brother succumbs to illness, leaving her next in line for the throne, Katza turns to a young rebellious prophet named Ravin who promises to teach her how to control her gift. As unrest grows in Russalka and a foreign monarchy threatens, Ravin understands Katza’s fears and helps her find confidence in her gift, and her own heart. Under Ravin’s unorthodox training, Katza learns to hear the saints once more—until revolutionaries claim her father’s life.
Reeling and desperate, Katza draws upon darker and darker powers to stop the revolutionaries, the foreign invaders, and the members of her own court who would see her fail. But the more Ravin whispers in her ear, the more Katza questions whether he—and the saints—have her best interests at heart. She must choose between her love of Ravin and her love of Russalka itself—and decide whether her empire might not be better off without her.
Ravin stood silent in the doorway, his clasped hands a speck of pale flesh against the black velvet of his coat and trousers. Her thoughts soared at the sight of him. She needed his counsel to make sense of her latest vision. She needed his guidance. She needed—him.
She tangled her fingers in the bedsheets and twisted them, uncomfortable with the sudden yearning that pricked at her skin.
“Prophet.” Katza’s voice cracked. She turned toward the physicker. “Please, allow us to speak privately.”
The physicker exchanged looks with Nadika, who hovered in the corner of the bedchamber. Nadika nodded, and the physicker gathered his bag and left.
Ravin moved inside, quiet as snow, and closed the door. Nadika posted herself in the doorway as he sat in the physicker’s chair at Katza’s side. Dark crescents lurked under his eyes, and his skin looked more pallid than usual. Katza felt a sudden urge to brush those crescents with her thumbs, as if they were smudges she could wipe away.
“Are you all right?” Ravin asked softly. “I’ve been worried for you. I prayed for you all evening.”
Embers flared on Katza’s cheeks as she imagined him kneeling in the chapel . . . imagined her name on his lips. “I—I’m fine now. But I had a vision.” She pitched her voice low. “A new one. There was gunfire, or cannons perhaps, in the distance. And I was bleeding.” She gripped her stomach instinctively. “I think in the vision I’d been shot.”
Ravin pressed his palms together and tapped the tips of his fingers to his mouth. “It was similar to other visions of yours, was it not?”
Katza’s jaw clenched. For a moment, she was afraid to speak, so she nodded instead. She still wasn’t prepared to tell him about her recurring vision—the one she’d first feared this might be, too. He’d hinted before that he knew of it already, but how was that possible? Had the saints warned him as well? Better to keep it to herself until she could be sure.
“Yes. I sense this is a common theme for you.” He glanced down. “I believe that Boj is warning you—warning that great strife is coming to Russalka. That if you are not prepared to confront it, you will not survive.”
A horrifying possibility, to be sure. Yet it was better than the vision she’d been plagued with before. If she couldn’t find a way to stop the strife, though, would Russalka still perish? Whether it was at her hands or not, it had to be stopped.
“And if I am prepared?” Katza asked.
“Then it can be avoided.” The angles of his face softened by a fraction. Katza’s gaze traced the delicate swoop from his cheek toward his mouth and lips, the hollows beneath his cheekbones. “You have been chosen by Boj to do great things. Greater even than most Silovs are capable of.” He looked right at her, something gleaming in his eyes. Something like awe. “But your training has been stunted.”
Katza squeezed her eyes shut to guard against a rush of despair. “It’s my fault. My visions—I thought they were warning me not to step above my place.”
“You thought they warned you not to act?” he asked. “And yet they continued? Tsarechka . . . I think perhaps they were warning you of the cost of inaction.”
Katza choked back a sour laugh. When she opened her eyes again, Ravin was watching her, his face warm despite that leeching cold in his eyes. She wanted to believe him. Desperately. She couldn’t put into words, though, the vision’s warning—the certainty she’d felt of its message. That she was doomed to be Russalka’s death.
But maybe she was wrong. She yearned to be wrong. Maybe, with Ravin’s aid, she could avoid its grim outcome.
“You are unprepared now, but you will learn. With the right training, you can save Russalka.”
Her gaze drifted down his face and along the long, stern line of his arms. His hands, so like a sculptor’s, dexterous and slim. This close to him, she smelled incense on his clothes, spiced like cinnamon and cloves. She wanted to wrap herself in that scent. Throat tight, she reached out for his hand. At first he tensed, but then his shoulders softened, and a smile teased his mouth. Their fingers knitted together, and she let the weight of her hand sink into his.
Lindsay is the author of the young adult novels Sekret, Dreamstrider, and A Darkly Beating Heart, and is the showrunner and lead writer for Serial Box’s The Witch Who Came In From the Cold. Her work has appeared on Tor.com and in the anthologies A Tyranny of Petticoats, Strange Romance Vol. 3, and Toil & Trouble, and she has written for Green Ronin Publishing’s RPG properties. She lives in Washington, DC with her husband and dog.
A girl who can’t remember. A book you won’t forget.
From debut author Margarita Montimore.
Astrid can’t remember the best day of her life: yesterday.
A traumatic car accident erases Astrid s memories of September 9th, the day she spent with an oddly charming stranger named Theo. Ever since, she’s been haunted by surreal dreams and an urgent sense that she’s forgotten something important.
One night, she gets a mysterious call from Oliver, who knows more about her than he should and claims he can help her remember. She accepts his help, even as she questions his motives and fights a strange attraction to him.
In order to find Theo and piece together that lost day in September, Astrid must navigate a maze of eccentric Boston nightlife, from the seedy corners of Chinatown to a drug-fueled Alice-in-Wonderland-themed party to a club where everyone dresses like the dead.
In between headaches and nightmares, she struggles to differentiate between memory, fantasy, and reality, and starts to wonder if Theo really exists. Eventually, she ll need to choose between continuing her search for him or following her growing feelings for Oliver.
Astrid might go to extreme lengths to find what she’s lost… or might lose even more in her pursuit to remember (like her sanity).
“Simply riveting from start to finish… a captivating, literary piece that winds a path somewhere between mystery, romance, and psychological thriller.” — D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review
“A compelling and original take on the classic amnesia tale . . . The narrative bursts with detailed, vivid characters . . . The dialogue is expertly crafted.” – The BookLife Prize
“There is so much to love about this book. The writing is wonderful… The joy of this book is following all of its twists and turns and going on Astrid’s journey with her as she tries to determine what is real and what isn’t.” — GSMC Book Review
“This book ticked all my boxes: unusual narrative structure, setting as a character, witty banter, and whip-smart writing… I loved it, and I’ll be thinking about it for a long time.”
— Rachel Lynn Solomon, author of You’ll Miss Me When I’m Gone
“Every part of this book was confidently crafted to create this dreamy, charismatic experience of being utterly submerged in a mystery and desperately seeking truth.”
— Michelle Hazen, author of A Cruel Kind of Beautiful
Outside a pizza place is a pay phone. Who else can I call? Hand on receiver, before I can decide, the phone rings. I pull back, like I’ve been burned.
Briiiiiing!!! Briiiiiing!!!
There’s absolutely nobody around, no one who might be waiting for a call.
Briiiiiing!!!
“Hello?” Why am I answering the phone? It’s not like—
“Astrid?”
If déjà vu is a feather down the spine, this sensation is a razor.
I must have misheard.
“Astrid, are you there?” The same male voice from my dream, the static now on my end in the form of the noisy downpour.
“Who is this?” I ask. “How did you know I would answer the phone?”
Before he replies, tranquility trickles into my veins like one of those lovely drugs pumped into me at the hospital. Of course. There’s no need to worry about any of it. This is just another dream.
“You’ll find out who I am soon enough,” he says. “There are more important things you need to deal with first.”
“Sure there are. Like what kind of snack I’ll have when I wake up.”
A pause on his end. “You’re not dreaming, Astrid.”
It stops raining, abruptly.
“The car accident, the fire, your friend’s overdose,” he continues, “All of those are real things.”
“Who are you? You’re scaring me.” I look around, expect to see someone lurking in a dark trench coat.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. But I wanted… to reassure you, tell you you’ll get through this. I’ll be able to help you more later on.”
“Do you…” My mouth is parched, my voice hoarse. “Do you go by your middle name?” I clear my throat, hold onto the phone with both hands. “Please tell me your name.”
“You already know my name, Astrid. You just need to remember it. But first, you need to find a place to sleep.”
“You mean a place to wake up. Right here would be perfect.”
He sighs. “Don’t do that. Don’t deny what’s real.”
How am I supposed to tell the difference?
“Astrid, you’re going to be fine. That’s all I wanted to tell you. We’ll speak again soon.”
The line goes dead.
Author Bio:
Margarita Montimore received a BFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College. She worked for over a decade in publishing and social media before deciding to focus on the writing dream full-time. She has blogged for Marvel, Google, Quirk Books, and XOJane.com. When not writing, she freelances as a book coach and editor. She grew up in Brooklyn but currently lives in a different part of the Northeast with her husband and dog.
Margarita writes upmarket/literary fiction that tends to be left of center and flirt with multiple genres. While she loves all things dark, strange, and surreal, she’s also optimistic—verging on quixotic—and a pop culture geek, so her work tends to incorporate all those elements to varying degrees.
I have found my dream lover and, appropriately, his name is Morpheus. He has shown me how to be truly free in my sexuality; to trust another human being with my deepest desires; and to love without reservation or fear. We have a true power exchange when we play – no, we do not play, we live! Our lives and our sexual lifestyle have evolved so that one constantly compliments the other. I can’t imagine a happier, more fulfilling life.
Then, my world tilts on its axis.
Reality returns with a vengeance. My lover becomes ill and I find myself fighting for my former, happy life. Morpheus is ambivalent to his fate. He is more concerned with my future happiness without him. His abhorrence to leave me “a Widow” again, alone and afraid, leads him to formulate a plan to send me into the arms of another man. But his desperate longings to see me in passion’s embrace make him take the role of a cuckold. He has picked the man to help me if he should not survive, but it’s a double-edged sword as he forces himself to watch me falling deeper into the arms of the man he has chosen to replace him in all ways.
My guilt and longing for this man sends me to seek the help of an old friend. While I am welcomed with open arms, the lovely Bianca has plans of her own. In the end, it is up to Morpheus to either release me into the arms of new lovers, or allow me to ease his Lustful Longings in a new way.
I lounge upon the chaise, sipping sparkling champagne as the New Year begins. My lover is poised on the tufted velvet arm, his fingers gliding along the exposed skin of my collarbone. The mirrored walls reflect the beauty of our surroundings and the people within. The chandeliers twinkle brightly near the mahogany ceiling, the gilt and glamour of the 1920’s permeates this particular party, and yet, the myriad collection of apparatuses for bondage, pain, and pleasure take up most of the room. A surrealistic interpretation of the predilections (or perhaps peculiarities is a better word), of the Master of House.
And here we sit in the middle of it all, my lover and me. He is adorned in the requisite tuxedo, it is a formal affair after all, with the only nod to the true nature of this gathering, a slim crop in his hand. He told me he really should have a walking stick to complete the outfit, but I wasn’t quite ready for that type of fun yet.
While he was the epitome of formal elegance, I, on the other hand, was resplendent in a red satin Merrywidow with black lace overlay and pretty red bows fastening the finest silk stockings that encased my legs. Black opera gloves covered my hands and arms, pearl bracelets and ruby rings adding charm. The large ruby and gold earrings that swayed when I turned my head and the diamond clip that held back my hair were the real thing.
My Master was a generous man and wanted everyone to know it, so for me it was jewelry; for others, it was a simple offer to one and all to sample the delight he was privileged to call his own. So, I sat with him, the corset pushing up my breasts until my nipples tipped the edge of lace and allowed strangers to rub or pinch “the raspberry perfections” that my Master tasted every night. I didn’t mind. There was something quite exciting about another man or woman touching me while my Master looked on. It stirred the recklessness within me and made our love play more explosive.
I smiled to myself and took a sip of the champagne. If the folks back home could see me now. They would raise scandalous eyebrows to the ceiling, send prayers for my sinful ways in the Sunday sermon, and whisper of the “Merry Widow” at the local Moose club. All would be filled with righteous indignation that someone like me had ever graced their idyllic community.
I parted my legs on the chaise as my Master requested, the warm air hitting my nakedness. The scent of my arousal permeated the air while a woman tentatively touched my slick labia. Yes, the old town would be in an outrage at my debauchery. Especially if I ever published my dear diary. More specifically, if I didn’t change the names to protect the not-so-innocent of their town within the pages of my sexual journal. That’s right; although many wore masks to the dungeon parties, I knew who each member or guest was. After all, my Master owned the most exclusive club in town.
I sighed as a wave of pleasure coursed through me while the young woman licked her fingers. I raised my glass as her companion shouted, “To the Widow and her Morpheus! You make all our dreams come true!”
About Maggie Adams:
Maggie Adams is an Amazon Best Selling contemporary romance author. Her first book in the Tempered Steel Series, Whistlin’ Dixie, debuted in Amazon’s Top 100 for Women’s Fiction, humor, on November, 2014. Since then, she has consistently made the Amazon best seller 5-star list with Leather and Lace, Something’s Gotta Give, and Love, Marriage & Mayhem. She is also the recipient of the Dayreader Review’s Best New Series Award for 2015. Her series has launched the tiny town of Grafton, Illinois, into International recognition with sales in Mexico, Ireland, Scotland, Australia and the UK.
Back home, she resides in the Midwest, with her high school sweetheart, Ned, and their children, Katie (Kyle) and Ross (Valerie) and first granddaughter, Lorelei, otherwise known as “The Boss”
Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2018 Margaret Margaret
