Cover Reveal – Chrysalis

 

 

 

Sheriff Peter Holbrook leads a simple life watching over the residents of Nowhere, Kansas, where the most noteworthy crimes are dognappings and brawls at the local tavern. He’s always had an inherent fear of the gray – the yearly spring storms that plague the area. Then one morning, a mysterious woman crashes her car just outside city limits. The tattooed stranger may not remember who she is, but Peter instantly feels a connection with her.

 

As the gray descends, the girl’s appearance isn’t the strangest event. Unusual behavior from the townsfolk, cattle mutilation, and death soon follow. Peter believes they are related, but only has a hunch and a prophecy from his deceased mother. With the mysteries piling up, Peter must rely on the help of their newest resident to save his sleepy town.

 

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads
Angie Martin – Author
Bestselling and award-winning

 

 

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Cover Reveal – Capo

Title: Capo

Series: World’s End #3

Author: Kai Tyler

Genre: Adult, Transgender Thriller

Coming: July 10, 2017

Marshall Vincenzo has his hands full with running the Angel City casinos now that his best friend, Dante is the new boss of San Torino. Not only is he left in charge of operations for the haven of gambling but he still has to deal with new demands made on him by his Uncle the Don of the Vincenzo clan. But when he gets a distress call from the one woman he has avoided for years his protective instincts have him going on a rescue mission.

Sofia Guirrez is hiding in plain sight. Born in the wrong body as Samuel, and rejected by her family for living as a woman, she ran from her past and took refuge working for men who know nothing about her previous life. When a new assignment goes wrong, she has no option but to ask for help from the one man she’s craved but knows she can never have. For one thing, she can never allow him to find out her secret.

Together they have to deal with a crazed ex and a bloody coup among other dangers. To survive, Sofia has to trust Marshall who is determined to tear down her mask and offer her the things she’s always wanted—love and acceptance. But what happens once her lethal secret is out.

 

Capo Excerpt © Kai Tyler 2017

Marshall’s POV

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Tito lowered his voice as if he didn’t want to be overheard, his elbows leaning on the heavy dark wood desk separating us.

Knowing my brother, he did it more for dramatic effect than anything else. We sat in my office, which had been recently swept for transmitting devices. No one was listening.

Unless Tito had a bug on him.

Shoving the ridiculous thought aside, I leaned into my leather chair. “What is it?”

“It’s about Dante and that Carmichael boy. A little bird told me they’re lovers.”

Bile soured my mouth. A little bird? More like a fucking canary.

Less than a handful of people knew the extent of Dante’s relationship with Carlos and Tito wasn’t one of them.

“Lovers? Ha.” I laughed without humour as I met Tito’s narrowed gaze. “If you’re asking if Dante is fucking Carlos, then I suppose so. The boy was his slave and was claimed as his prize after Duce got rid of the kid’s father and took control of the territory.”

Whoever had been talking to my brother was looking to stir trouble for my best friend. I couldn’t let that happen. I would find the shit-stirring rat and take pleasure in ending their miserable life.

 


 

Kai Tyler: Stories about dangerous men and fierce love.

I love writing stories about forbidden men and relentless love, about gangsters with heart, antiheroes who do what they need to do to survive in a crazy world. These men commit to the lives they lead 100%—with heart, body and soul and when they fall in love you can be sure they bring the same level of passionate devotion to the people they love.
Reading books will always be my first love but I also love watching good action flicks. I live in good old sunny England, United Kingdom. It isn’t always sunny, but I love this quirky island of ours. *grins*

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Blog Tour – Collision

 
 
Title: Collision (Serial Killer Unit Book 2)
Author: Allie Redman | @allie.redman.au
Release Date: March 25th 2017
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer: Rebel Edit and Design
Cover Models: Amanda Joan & Jonny James
Photographer: Kruse Images and Photography
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Shane and Macy have found each other and now have a chance at happiness and love at last……
 

 

But when the killer that took Shane’s wife shows himself again on their doorstep it is a race against time.

 

 

 

Shane already lost his wife, will he be able to keep from losing everything again?

 

 

 

Macy is home at last but the ghosts of her past are never far behind. She has spent a lifetime hiding but she could never hide from Shane.

 

 

 

Now with a race against a killer who is stalking them all and Macy’s past catching up its a race against time.

 

 

 

When ghosts of the past chase you how far can you run from the Collision?  
 

 

 
 
 
Available on #KU for #free and on several other Amazon sites
 
 
 
 
 
 
Collision (Serial Killer Unit Book 2)
Text Copyright © 2017 Allie Redman
All Rights Reserved
 
 “Shane, you can’t see the future. You are human. We all know the risks of being in this line of work but we also know the rewards that come with it. Shane what we do, what you do is amazing. We protect those who can’t protect themselves and sometime Shane we are going to get hurt and sometimes we lose people but the important part to remember is that we win Shane, we get to see how this ends, we get to end it.”
 
Shane looked deep in to my eyes and let out a sigh, “How do you do it baby? How do you live through what you lived through and still see hope? How is it that you can look at the world and see so much and hope? And not only do you see hope but you spread it baby. You make me believe that there is a better tomorrow and that the world isn’t just shit. You are my light darlin.”
 
I couldn’t help the tear that fell down my cheek. I know Shane thought I was his light but he was mine and he was the one that showed me that the world can be a beautiful place. He is the one that showed me what love is, he showed me a world that I didn’t think existed.
 
“You know more and do more than you think Shane. You don’t even see how truly amazing and perfect you are.” I leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips, forgetting about my banged-up face. I flinched when Shane put his forehead on mine, I tried to hide it because I knew he needed this closeness but he saw right through.
 
“Shit baby I’m sorry. Let me take a look.” Shane inspected my face and made a growling sound from deep in his throat. His eyes filled with so much anger, I could feel it coming off him in waves. I placed my hands on his.
 
 
The Dance – Garth Brooks
Thinking Out loud – Ed Sheeran
Christina Perri – Human
Christina Perri – Arms
Natalia Kills – Devils Don’t Fly
Kip Morre – Hey Pretty Girl
Avril Lavigne – Keep Holding On
 
 
 
 
 
 Double Take (Serial Killer Unit Book 1)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Dawson Freeman led a simple, small town life. He was beginning his career as a police officer in his hometown when tragedy struck and his sister was murdered….
 
 
 

 

10 years later Dawson is still chasing a murderer who disappeared without a trace but a call at 3 am changes all that.
 
 

 

Now Dawson is in a race for his life and the people around him trying to stop a psychotic killer hell bent on destroying him. Then just when he thinks he is on the right path a blast from his past comes back in the form of the sexy bombshell Sam.

 

 
 

 

Will Dawson be able to keep the people he loves safe or will a murderer slip through the cracks once again?
 
 

 

 
 
 
Allie is 33 year old mother of 3. She was born and raised in the Central interior of British Columbia, Canada. She enjoys life in the outdoors and when she isn’t writing she is out working on her farm.
 
She has been a book nerd at heart and always loved the escape of a good book. From Jane Austin to Stephen King she loves them all. She welcomes all her fans to come join her on her Facebook, Twitter and Amazon account where there will be lots of fun and giveaways and you can interact with her.
 
 
 
Twitter: @allie.redman.au
 
 
 
B&B Promotions | @banbpromotions

 

 

Blog Tour – One Final Breath

 

 
 
 
 
Title: One Final Breath
Author: LK Collins | @authorLKCollins
Release Date: February 27 2017
All Graphics Made by: Prezidential Visions | http://prezidentialvisions.weebly.com/
 
 
 
 
 
 
 One life.
One choice.
One love.
 
Sometimes it’s all we get and one moment could change it all. 
 
I hate the number one—it haunts me; my every waking moment is a constant reminder of what I lost. 
 
One day, I met a guy and I fell in love. 
 
He asked me one question…I said yes. 
 
Our life was perfect…until one day everything changed. 
 
I watched him slowly slip and fade away. 
 
The one person I loved, my best friend, my partner, my everything, was slowly dying right in front of my eyes. 
 
The doctors said he had one year left; he only lasted one month. 
 
As I held on to his hand, he took one final breath and slipped from this world.
 
Leaving me; one woman, one broken heart, one child to show the world to…all alone. 
 
This is my story about the power of one…
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
One Final Breath
 
Text Copyright © 2017 LK Collins
All Rights Reserved

 

I’m not sure what it is about him, but for some reason since we met, he’s consumed my thoughts. He takes the pain away—he makes me feel sane—he makes me feel like there is a light at the end of the dark tunnel I’ve been living in for so long.
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
____________________


 
____________________
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 From International Bestselling Author, LK Collins, comes One Final Breath an emotional and unforgettable read about losing the one you love and learning how to go on without them.
 
 
LK Collins is the naughty alter ego for the husband-and-wife duo behind multiple bestselling and international bestselling novels. This real-life couple is downright dirty in the bedroom, which bleeds through the pages of their steaming hot stories. While LK writes the books, Mr. Collins, the tattooed god himself, is the mastermind behind so much of the page-turning sexiness. 
 
If you are looking for a scorching read with chemistry so intense it jumps off the pages, then an LK novel is for you. From standalones to series, their stories will have you blushing and panting, ready to reread them the moment you’ve finished. The heroes are alpha, demanding, filthy-talking men that will do anything for their girl…or to get them.

 

 
 
 
Instagram: @authorlkcollins
Reading Group: http://bit.ly/2iGFcyR
 
 
Check out The Prezident’s Graphics Company
 
 
 
 
B&B Promotions | @banbpromotions
 

Teaser Tuesday – Collision

 
✰ ✰ #TeaserTuesday ✰ ✰
 

Collision (Serial Killer Unit Book 2)

by Allie Redman Author

A thrilling, sexy, heart pounding romantic suspense that will have you on the edge of your seat ! Meet Shane and Macy and go along on this heart pounding journey with them.  

➸ #Add to your #TBRhttp://bit.ly/2mtYB8w

#1Click now:
➸ Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N279GT6
➸ Amazon.ca: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N279GT6
➸ Amazon.uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N279GT6

#Free on #KindleUnlimited and also on several other Amazon sites

#romanticsuspense #allieredman #doubletake #series 

@banbpromotions @Allie_Redman_au

 
 

Duce (World’s End #1) by Kai Tyler *FREE 10/27 – 10/29*

Title: Duce
Series: Worlds’ End #1
Author: Kai Tyler
Genre: MM Romantic Thriller
Published: October 17, 2015
Parties and orgies… those are the things Carlos Carmichael wants to do. It’s the only way he knows to deal with his life as the son of a notorious cartel boss. He’ll get whatever he wants by any means necessary.

Until he tangles with a man who plays by totally different rules.

Dante Orsino has been raised in the old ways of honor, loyalty and respect of the business. His role as mafia underboss is more than just a job. It also makes him an heir to one of the biggest families in the Southern Territories.

When Carlos meets Dante and plays a silly game, their weekend tryst sparks a deadly cartel war.

For Dante there’s no other life except—the life. And he wants Carlos in his. But in the New World, a gay man is a dead man. Can he find a way to keep everything he loves and stay alive?

In a new world gone mad, even the good guys are bad. Welcome to the World’s End series.

 

 
 
Copyright 2015 Kai Tyler
At the bar, I ordered brandy, swallowed a sip, and then took the curved stairs up to the VIP area. Men sat on dark leather sofas arranged so they overlooked the main jam-packed club area below. I found a single-seater armchair in the corner of the lounge to perch on, my back to the wall.
I never liked sitting in a room with my back exposed. I preferred to see trouble before it found me. Problems were never far away, vacation or not.
From here, I watched male dancers in nothing but jockstraps on raised, caged platforms dotted around the club, sweat and glitter making their toned bodies glisten.
After tossing back the shot, I caught the eye of a young waiter who sauntered over and took my refill order. Waiting for the drink, I took my time to survey the other people in the lounge. A group of three thirty-something-year-old men sat in the section next to mine. Two of them looked like a couple by the way they touched each other.
The third met my gaze and flashed a set of white teeth as he smiled. Arching his brow and lifting his hand, he enquired if he could come over. He was good-looking with dark- brown hair and a well-built body under the t-shirt. Even his trousers seemed to hide a reasonably-sized shaft.
I tried to picture holding the man down, kicking out his legs and taking him over the table. My cock gave an unenthusiastic twitch. I was still too tense to entertain company. With an almost imperceptible shake of my head, I dissuaded him from getting up. The man shrugged and tipped his drink in salute.
The waiter brought my refill. I took a sip and relaxed into the leather chair, welcoming the gentle alcoholic haze in my mind that stripped away my agitation. My gaze trawled, exploring every male form in sight.
Another group of men sat a few sofas away. These were younger than me, too fresh-faced to be nothing more than just barely legal. Boisterous, they talked and laughed in loud voices, drawing attention.
I spotted him and my world skewed.
The boy—he appeared more boy than man—was whispering something to the person sitting next to him, when his blond lashes lifted in a slow, teasing manner.
My heart stopped and my skin prickled. If I wasn’t usually cool under duress, I would’ve been drooling.
The lad was what? Twenty? Twenty-one? Cute as hell in a smart mint-green polo shirt and navy trousers made of expensive shiny fabric that clung to a lean body. He came across as prep-school material and looked young enough to still be in college. Face like a fucking angel, dirty blond hair that flopped over his face, and pink lips that pouted in the way fashion models did.
I had no problem picturing the gioventù on his knees, that mouth stretched around my girth.
As he rose from the sofa, his dark and huge eyes shone with mischief. One of his friends laughed and lowered his head toward the low table, a rolled note in his right hand.
Columns of white powder lined the glass-topped surface and the man leaned over, sniffing half of the line before he straightened and repeated the action with the other nostril. Finally, he tilted his head back, pinching his nose.
My lip curled down, my jaw tightened, and I averted my gaze. The drug remained illegal, but just like homosexuality, it was freely available in Exilado for the right price.
I shouldn’t begrudge the young men their vices any more than I should condemn myself for having sex with other men. Still, I couldn’t help the weight of disappointment that settled on my shoulders. I’d seen the damage addictive drugs could wreck on perfectly normal lives. I’d taken an oath to keep the toxic substances out of Vincenzo territories. San Torino wasn’t my turf and there was nothing I could do other than ignore the young men snorting the white powder.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Blond boy had ambled over and stood only inches away, his lips curled in a ten kilo-watt smile.
My gaze held captivating eyes of dark green. For a moment, I forgot my disgust at what I’d just seen the gioventù’s friend do and simply admired the specimen before me. The flawless skin, the perfect nose, and the slender body of a person on the cusp of manhood made me increasingly aware of my own increasing heart beat.
Damn. He was beautiful. I didn’t think I’d ever described another man with such a word, which reminded me exactly why the lad wasn’t my type. I liked them tougher than he looked. Not delicate. Not someone I had to worry about breaking.
“I’ve got a drink.” I gave a gruff reply and lifted my glass to my lips but I might as well have been drinking water as all my senses honed in on the person in front of me.
Undeterred, the boy lowered his body in the chair opposite and extended his hand. “I’m Carl. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I stared at the manicured, slender fingers that didn’t look as if they’d seen a day’s labour, reinforcing the feeling Carl wasn’t for me. It didn’t stop me from picturing them stroking my skin as my cock sprang to life.
“I didn’t invite you to join me.” My tone remained cool, in contrast to the heat riding my blood.
“You didn’t.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I bet I could make you interested.” Carl leaned across and settled his hand on my thigh.
 
 
 
Duce (World's End #1)Duce by Kai Tyler
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Dante and Carl meet at an exclusive club. Carl knows right away he wants Dante. He sees him as the 3D’s. Dark, Dangerous & Domineering. Perfect for what he has in mind.

Dante saved Carl’s life, so he feels responsible for the kid. He does not think he is big enough or old enough to handle what he would give to him. Turns out that is not quite true…

When push comes to shove, all that matters is that Carl is willing to do what it takes to be where Dante is. Can Dante make a place in his carefully ordered life for him? All Carl wants is to be his.

There is more going on here, and Dante is right to be worried. It is a case of opposites attract. This is a great book of suspense and good banter. Sexy times, and dark and dangerous times. I loved how they could not deny one another even when they want to. Great second book in the World’s End series.

***This ARC copy was given in exchange for an honest review only.

View all my reviews 

 
 
 

 

 
 
 
Kai loves writing stories about forbidden men and relentless love, about gangsters with heart, antiheroes who do what they need to do to survive in a crazy world. These men commit to the lives they lead 100%—with heart, body and soul and when they fall in love you can be sure they bring the same level of passionate devotion to the people they love.

Kai’s debut dystopian MM romance novel, Duce, was an All Romance eBooks Top 50 Bestseller when it came out in 2015. Visit http://www.kaityler.com to connect with Kai.

 
 
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Release Blitz w/Review – Take The Money And Run

 

 

 

 

•*¨*•.¸•*¨*•.¸Release Blitz•*¨*•.¸•*¨*•.¸

 

 

Take the Money and Run

By Samantha Cole

 

 

Amazon Link – http://smarturl.it/TTMAR

 

BLURB:

 

With a gun and a duffel bag full of cash, Moriah Jensen is on the run from the police and ruthless drug dealers. She’d fled Chicago after her family was murdered and has spent the past four months trying to stay alive. Using an alias, she has bounced around from town to town, state to state, trying to stay at least a few steps ahead of the people chasing her.

 

 

KC Malone is on a two-week leave from his Navy SEAL team when he arrives at his uncle’s beach house to find a beautiful woman pointing a gun at his chest. What the hell had he just walked in on?

 

When the two become reluctant, temporary housemates, KC offers to train Moriah to defend herself against an alleged abusive ex-boyfriend. But then her past catches up with her and Moriah has to decide between her love for KC and running for safety. To stay would risk both their lives. To run would mean leaving her heart behind.

 

 

 

 

 

Take the Money and Run: Malone Brothers Book 1Take the Money and Run: Malone Brothers Book 1 by Samantha A. Cole
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

KC Malone meets Moriah Jensen AKA Maura when she holds him at gunpoint in his uncle’s cabin. He surprised her at 3am, and she had no idea why he is there. To his credit, he explains everything to her.

Maura cannot trust anyone right now. She can’t afford to. Can she be safe with KC? He agrees to help her, sort of. He just has no idea how much “help” she really needs. The sparks are burning bright between them. Maybe there is more here than meets the eye.

Such a sexy and sweet story filled with heart pumping suspense! The heat can be felt as it jumps off the page between these two characters. I could not put this book down!

***This ARC copy was given in exchange for an honest review.

View all my reviews

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author:

 

Samantha A. Cole is a retired policewoman and former paramedic who has started a third career as an author. She has lived her entire life in the suburbs of New York City and has plans to become a ‘snow-bird’ between New York and Florida. Her two dogs, Jinx and Bella, keep her company and remind their ‘mom’ to take a break from writing every once in awhile to go for a walk, of course with them in tow.

 

An avid reader since childhood, Samantha was often found with a book in hand and sometimes one in each. After being gifted with a stack of romance novels from her grandmother, her love affair with the genre began in her teens.

 

Samantha is continuing to work on the Trident Security series as well as a new trilogy, The Malone Brothers. She also has a few other stand-alone books in the works.

 

 

Samantha A. Cole

Connect with me!

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamanthaColeAuthor?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SamanthaCole222

Website: https://samanthacoleauthor.wordpress.com/

Amazon:http://amazon.com/Samantha-A.-Cole

 

 

 

 

 

Blog Tour – Flocksdale Files Series

 
 
Title: Have You Seen This Girl and House of the Lost Girls
Series: Flocksdale Files
Author: Carissa Ann Lynch
Genre: Thriller/Mystery
 
 
 
Wendi Wise is a troubled young woman who snorts her breakfast through a straw and spends more time in rehab than in the real world… 
 
Her life is seemingly out of control.
 
But now she has a plan.
 
That plan involves a sharp set of butcher knives. 
 
She’s going back to where all of her troubles began…
 
Flocksdale.
 
Wendi was lured away from a local skating rink, at the age of thirteen, and held captive in a place she calls ‘The House of Horrors.’ Dumped off blindfolded on the side of a dirt road, Wendi soon discovered that she was addicted to the drugs they fed her while she was captive. 
 
Too scared to go home, and having a new habit to deal with, she hopped on a bus, vanishing from the family she loved. 
 
Vanishing from Flocksdale…
 
The town of Flocksdale is littered with fliers with a grainy image of young Wendi, and the words ‘Have You Seen This Girl?’ written below. 
 
Now, eight years later, she’s on a mission—a mission to find the mysterious house from her youth and the monsters who dwell inside it.
 
 
 
 
 
 
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL
PROLOGUE 
 
Present Day: I lost my straw three hours ago, which sucks because it was my favorite one. Getting up to look for it seems like a painstaking, insurmountable task right now, but I pull myself up to a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The “bed” is nothing more than a dingy, rust-colored mattress that lies on the floor of a two-room basement apartment in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
 
The threadbare carpet that covers the floor provides no support for my feet, and frankly, it stinks. I get down on my knees and lay my face flat against the carpet, holding my breath and peering under an ancient, stained armchair and the dresser that stands beside it. Now, where the fuck is that straw?
 
All I can see are dust bunnies, mouse droppings, and the carcass of a cockroach. No straw. I let out a frustrated groan. I give up searching, stand back up, and pad across the hall to the tiny bathroom I share with my current boyfriend, Michael, or “Mick” when he thinks he’s cool. I plop down on the toilet, running my hands through my tangled mop of greasy black hair.
 
I wait for the pee to come. Then wait some more. I can remember one of my old AA mentors, telling me once why opiates interfere with bodily functions like peeing, for instance. It was something about wires in the brain getting crossed…I wish I had a stopwatch to time this affair, but then it finally comes and I let out a sigh of relief.
 
Mick’s clothes from the night before are strewn across the bathroom floor at my feet. Suddenly I have a thought, and begin rummaging through the pockets of a brown pair of khaki shorts that I remember him wearing last night. I find what I’m looking for: a tattered black wallet, worn out from age and being sat on all day long. I open it up and peer inside. It only contains two dollars, but that’s fine by me—all I need is one.
 
Pulling out the faded, crumpled bill, I smooth it flat against the round edges of the wash basin. Once flattened, I begin slowly rolling it into a perfectly cylindrical mini-version of my straw. It’s basically perfect.
 
The dope is in my bedroom drawer, along with my razor. Using the tiny blade, I lovingly chop the heroin until it is fine and powdery, and then use the rolled up dollar bill to suck it straight up my nose. Its taste hits the back of my throat instantly and drains down through my sinuses, a sensation I used to loathe but have grown to love.
 
Wiping the residue from my nose noisily with the back of my hand, I glance at Mick, who is still passed out on the bed. Getting high makes him sleepy, but it fills me with an insatiable need to do something productive.
 
Our bedroom is dotted with tiny land mines of crumpled t-shirts, inside-out jeans, and day-old panties. I make my way around the room, picking them up and tossing them all into a wicker laundry basket in the corner.
 
Besides the bedroom and bathroom, we have a small, windowless sitting area, a narrow galley kitchen, and a small extra bedroom that we use for trash and other random items. I move my cleaning to the living room, gathering up snack wrappers and empty Solo cups, and then carry them into the small silver garbage can under the kitchen sink. The sink is filled to the brim with two-day-old dishes, so I start filling the sink with water and shampoo.
 
I’ve been out of dish soap for weeks now, but the hair care product seems to get the job done so I don’t complain. The water from the faucet never gets hot because our gas got shut off months ago. If I want hot water, I have to boil it. This all sounds ridiculous, I know. This is the twenty-first century, but my addiction has me back in the Stone Age, because when you’re an addict, you don’t spend money on things like food, water, clothes, electricity…you spend it on drugs. At least the truly hardcore addicts like me do.
 
Crusty teacups, sauce-covered plates, and sour-smelling utensils permeate the water, rising steadily to the brim. I plunge my hands into the frigid, cloudy water and begin mindlessly washing.
 
For the past six months, our daily life can be divided into three segments: looking for money to buy heroin, finding the drug, and then getting high. Oh, I almost forgot about the fourth segment: coming down from the drug—my least favorite time of day. Our entire life revolves around heroin and our bodies rely on it to function. It’s not about getting “high” anymore because I never feel lifted or high-spirited, or overly anything these days. We wake up feeling low and we need it to feel normal. Maybe they should change the expression to “getting normal” or “avoiding feeling like shit,” instead of “getting high.”
 
Today will be different though. Today I have a date with my good friend rehab, and in six hours from now, my daily routine should change dramatically. Mick isn’t going, but I’m fine with that. He’ll do his own thing when he’s ready. I’ve been planning this for a month now, and finally the phone call came: a bed opened up at the local in-patient clinic and today is the day to report.
 
I’ve been to rehab before, and will mostly like go again after this stint, but everything is about to change. This time around, major plans have been made for when I get out of rehab.
 
Those plans involve me and a sharp set of butcher knives, but I’ll explain that later.
 
Perhaps you’re wondering how I got this way. Or perhaps you don’t give a damn. Either way, this is my story. It’s not a story about addiction. This is a story about murder.
 
 
Seventeen year old Marianna Bertagnoli is miserable…
 
Not only did her father abandon her five years ago, now she’s being uprooted and forced to move with her mother and new stepdad to a creepy Victorian house they inherited in the even creepier town of Flocksdale.
 
Flocksdale has an evil, ugly past—and history has a way of repeating itself…
 
Marianna notices some strange qualities about her new home, and soon realizes she’s living in none other than the infamous House of Horrors. That’s right, the very house where the demented Garrett family ran a drug ring, leading to the kidnappings and murders of forty young girls.
 
The dark energy of the town begins to rise again…
 
Within a week of moving in, Marianna’s mother disappears, one of her small group of new friends is found murdered, and she’s attacked by a man wearing a hideous clown mask. As she searches for answers, Marianna wonders if the malevolence still lingers, somehow alive…and how her stepdad came to own the House of Horrors.
 
Unsure who to trust, Marianna turns to Wendi Wise, a survivor of the Garretts’ crimes…
 
Caught up in twisted family ties and surrounded by deceit, Marianna is targeted by a new generation of evil. Doubly imprisoned—in her own body and in the real house of the lost girls—Marianna needs Wendi’s help to unravel the bizarre history of Flocksdale.
 
But will Marianna survive long enough to bring the evil to light…or will she be trapped in the house of the lost girls forever?
 
 
 
 
HOUSE OF THE LOST GIRLS
Chapter One


Fuck Flocksdale. Not my words—someone else’s. The flat black spray paint obliterated the real words—Welcome to—on the shiny metal sign greeting us on our way into Flocksdale. Our new town. Not my choice of towns—someone else’s.
 
In the backseat of my parents’ SUV, I was slumped down in the seat with yellow earbuds shoved as far into the openings of my ears as they would go. The ornery words aroused me from my black mood, and I leaned forward, pressing my face to the glass as we passed.
 
I tried not to smile. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who hated this town.
 
“Wow. That’s just great,” my mother said, also noticing the nasty words scrawled on the sign as we passed by. “Who would do something like that?” she asked.
 
“Oh, honey. You know who. Rotten teenagers,” my stepdad uttered disgustedly, staring back at me in the rearview mirror. I may as well have written the words myself based on his nasty look. It was so obvious that he hated me. Why couldn’t my mother see that? Or maybe she sees it and just doesn’t care, I thought bitterly.
 
I narrowed my eyes at my stepdad darkly, sliding back down in my seat. I turned up the volume on my iPod, switched the song to Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day. I mouthed words to the song, lonely lyrics about walking alone, as we entered my new town of Flocksdale.
 
I hated him…not my stepdad, but my real dad. For leaving my mom and I five years ago, and ultimately, bequeathing me to this asshole. Everything between my mom and dad was fine, and then one day it wasn’t. He left a note, saying he was going to live with his new girlfriend.
 
A note. If I ever got to see him again, I had a few notes of my own to give him.
 
My mom and George got married only a year ago, but George had been wrecking my life ever since.
 
Like right now, for instance.
 
He had accepted a job in Flocksdale, and even though my mom had her own job in Ohio, and I had my school and friends, here we were—starting over. Our lives didn’t matter to him. It was all about him, furthering his career goals. He didn’t care that I had to leave my old school. The school I’d attended my entire life…
 
Despite the explicit greeting on the way in, the part of town we drove into seemed quiet and quaint. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, but the main street was free of motorists and the sidewalks held no pedestrians. Rows of brick buildings, apparently small businesses, lined the street on both sides, “We’re Closed” signs firmly displayed in their windows.
 
“Well, this definitely looks like a peaceful town, Georgie,” my mother said, using that stupid pet name I hated for ‘George.’ She patted my stepdad’s arm, her attempt to let him know she was fine with moving here. That she’d forgiven him. Her eyes fluttered back to meet mine, encouraging me to do the same, but I closed them, refusing to cater to Georgie’s sensitivity. Well, I haven’t…I mouthed sulkily.
 
I was never going to be okay with moving here. Technically, I was almost eighteen and soon to be free to go anywhere I wanted. But even after I finished my senior year of high school, at my new school, there was supposed to be college and all that…
 
In other words, I was stuck with my mother and surrogate daddy for at least a few more years. And now I was stuck serving out my time in this lame-ass town called Flocksdale.
 
“Are you sure anyone really lives here?” I asked, yanking my earbuds out. My mother shot me a death glare and my stepdad ignored my comment. He’d grown up here in this dump, and I knew insulting his alma mater would get under his skin.
 
But getting under his skin was turning out to be one of my favorite pastimes.
 
I twisted my hair in a tight bun and started packing up my book and iPod into my messenger bag. It was all I’d brought, besides my duffel bag containing a few outfits. Everything else was coming by U-Haul. I didn’t care about my stuff. It was my friends and school I worried about leaving behind.
 
I was relieved to see lights up ahead, illuminating a McDonald’s and CVS as we entered the heart of town. So, there is civilization here, I thought wearily.
 
More businesses—a grocery store, diner, coffee shop, and a badass-looking used book store. Then the stores faded away and we entered a cluster of residential houses and neighborhoods. The houses were small and close together, mostly shotguns, but then they got larger and grander as we got further from town.
 
“We’re getting close. It’s on the river,” George said, his voice taking on an excited, boyish tone. I knew we were getting close to the water because the houses were taking on a strange quality. Some of them were sitting up high on stilts. I’d never seen anything like it.
 
“I guess they’re worried about floods here,” I remarked softly. I had to admit, the houses looked pretty cool, sitting up high on solid, wooden beams. Like they were too cool to hang out on the ground with the rest of the houses.
 
“Yeah, sometimes the river gets high around here. But there hasn’t been a major flood in forty years,” my mom said, answering for George.
 
But then he said, “Nearly thirty houses and businesses were torn down and rebuilt. They built smarter the second time around, preparing for floods. But we won’t have to worry about that…”
 
Rolling down the window, I leaned my head out, sucking in deep breaths of damp July air. Why did they tear them down? And who were “they”? I wanted to ask, but then I could almost hear…water.
 
There it was—rolling, murky water with steaming pipes from a nuclear plant on the other side of the river. A huge sea of nothing but water, and more nothingness beyond it. An old, metal walking bridge glittered in the distance. “It’s down here,” George nearly whispered, taking a turn onto Clemmons Street.
 
There were nearly six houses on both sides of the street, all built on stilts . But at the end was a gigantic Victorian home, its own flood wall behind it, sitting right on the river. It towered in the black night sky, moonlight dancing crazily on the rough waters in the background.
 
It was beautiful in an eerie sort of way and as we pulled up in front of it, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand upright. Could it be…? The House of Horrors…?
 
That’s right. I did my research on this place. The town of Flocksdale had a history. A nasty, evil sort of history.
 
Nearly twenty years ago, a deranged family ran some sort of trafficking/drug ring. The bodies of nearly forty young girls were found buried in the crawlspaces, basements, and backyards of the townspeople involved in the operation. The townspeople of Flocksdale.
 
All of the perpetrators were either apprehended or dead, but it still gave me the creeps. I’d read everything I could find on the internet about the murders. In some of the write-ups, I’d read about the description of the main house used in the kidnappings and subsequent killings—an old, creepy Victorian. A description that seemed to fit this one. Surely, there were other Victorian homes in this town? Right…?
 
I’d tried to tell my mom, and even George, about it. But George ignored me, and my mom said, “Every town has history and crime is everywhere, Marianna. George grew up there, so it must be all right.” Yeah…that made me feel a whole hell of a lot better.
 
George parked the SUV in a concrete driveway out front of the house. I made no attempt to get out. I stared up at this beautiful monster of a house, wondering what was in store for me in this creepy little town with its even creepier history. I shivered involuntarily. Two words came to mind: Fuck Flocksdale.
 
 

Besides my family, my greatest love in life is books. Reading them, writing them, holding them, smelling them…well, you get the idea. I’ve always loved to read and never considered myself a “writer” until a few years ago when I couldn’t find a book to read and decided to try writing my own story. I’m the author of Have You Seen This Girl? (Flocksdale Files Book #1), Grayson’s Ridge, and This Is Not About Love. I reside in Floyds Knobs, Indiana with my husband, children, and massive collection of books.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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Blog Tour – House Of The Lost Girls

 
HOUSE OF THE LOST GIRLS 
by Carissa Ann Lynch 
Series: Flocksdale Files Book #2
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
 
– SYNOPSIS –
 
Seventeen year old Marianna Bertagnoli is miserable…
 
Not only did her father abandon her five years ago, now she’s being uprooted and forced to move with her mother and new stepdad to a creepy Victorian house they inherited in the even creepier town of Flocksdale.
 
Flocksdale has an evil, ugly past—and history has a way of repeating itself…
 
Marianna notices some strange qualities about her new home, and soon realizes she’s living in none other than the infamous House of Horrors. That’s right, the very house where the demented Garrett family ran a drug ring, leading to the kidnappings and murders of forty young girls.
 
The dark energy of the town begins to rise again…
 
Within a week of moving in, Marianna’s mother disappears, one of her small group of new friends is found murdered, and she’s attacked by a man wearing a hideous clown mask. As she searches for answers, Marianna wonders if the malevolence still lingers, somehow alive…and how her stepdad came to own the House of Horrors.
 
Unsure who to trust, Marianna turns to Wendi Wise, a survivor of the Garretts’ crimes…
Caught up in twisted family ties and surrounded by deceit, Marianna is targeted by a new generation of evil. Doubly imprisoned—in her own body and in the real house of the lost girls—Marianna needs Wendi’s help to unravel the bizarre history of Flocksdale.
But will Marianna survive long enough to bring the evil to light…or will she be trapped in the house of the lost girls forever?
 
– PURCHASE –
 
 
 
– EXCERPT –
 
Chapter One:
 
Fuck Flocksdale. Not my words—someone else’s. The flat black spray paint obliterated the real words—Welcome to—on the shiny metal sign greeting us on our way into Flocksdale. Our new town. Not my choice of towns—someone else’s.
 
In the backseat of my parents’ SUV, I was slumped down in the seat with yellow earbuds shoved as far into the openings of my ears as they would go. The ornery words aroused me from my black mood, and I leaned forward, pressing my face to the glass as we passed.
 
I tried not to smile. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who hated this town.
 
“Wow. That’s just great,” my mother said, also noticing the nasty words scrawled on the sign as we passed by. “Who would do something like that?” she asked.
 
“Oh, honey. You know who. Rotten teenagers,” my stepdad uttered disgustedly, staring back at me in the rearview mirror. I may as well have written the words myself based on his nasty look. It was so obvious that he hated me. Why couldn’t my mother see that? Or maybe she sees it and just doesn’t care, I thought bitterly.
 
I narrowed my eyes at my stepdad darkly, sliding back down in my seat. I turned up the volume on my iPod, switched the song to Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day. I mouthed words to the song, lonely lyrics about walking alone, as we entered my new town of Flocksdale.
 
I hated him…not my stepdad, but my real dad. For leaving my mom and I five years ago, and ultimately, bequeathing me to this asshole. Everything between my mom and dad was fine, and then one day it wasn’t. He left a note, saying he was going to live with his new girlfriend.
 
A note. If I ever got to see him again, I had a few notes of my own to give him.
 
My mom and George got married only a year ago, but George had been wrecking my life ever since.
 
Like right now, for instance.
 
He had accepted a job in Flocksdale, and even though my mom had her own job in Ohio, and I had my school and friends, here we were—starting over. Our lives didn’t matter to him. It was all about him, furthering his career goals. He didn’t care that I had to leave my old school. The school I’d attended my entire life…
 
Despite the explicit greeting on the way in, the part of town we drove into seemed quiet and quaint. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, but the main street was free of motorists and the sidewalks held no pedestrians. Rows of brick buildings, apparently small businesses, lined the street on both sides, “We’re Closed” signs firmly displayed in their windows.
 
“Well, this definitely looks like a peaceful town, Georgie,” my mother said, using that stupid pet name I hated for ‘George.’ She patted my stepdad’s arm, her attempt to let him know she was fine with moving here. That she’d forgiven him. Her eyes fluttered back to meet mine, encouraging me to do the same, but I closed them, refusing to cater to Georgie’s sensitivity. Well, I haven’t…I mouthed sulkily.
 
I was never going to be okay with moving here. Technically, I was almost eighteen and soon to be free to go anywhere I wanted. But even after I finished my senior year of high school, at my new school, there was supposed to be college and all that…
 
In other words, I was stuck with my mother and surrogate daddy for at least a few more years. And now I was stuck serving out my time in this lame-ass town called Flocksdale.
“Are you sure anyone really lives here?” I asked, yanking my earbuds out. My mother shot me a death glare and my stepdad ignored my comment. He’d grown up here in this dump, and I knew insulting his alma mater would get under his skin.
 
But getting under his skin was turning out to be one of my favorite pastimes.
 
I twisted my hair in a tight bun and started packing up my book and iPod into my messenger bag. It was all I’d brought, besides my duffel bag containing a few outfits. Everything else was coming by U-Haul. I didn’t care about my stuff. It was my friends and school I worried about leaving behind.
 
I was relieved to see lights up ahead, illuminating a McDonald’s and CVS as we entered the heart of town. So, there is civilization here, I thought wearily.
 
More businesses—a grocery store, diner, coffee shop, and a badass-looking used book store. Then the stores faded away and we entered a cluster of residential houses and neighborhoods. The houses were small and close together, mostly shotguns, but then they got larger and grander as we got further from town.
 
“We’re getting close. It’s on the river,” George said, his voice taking on an excited, boyish tone. I knew we were getting close to the water because the houses were taking on a strange quality. Some of them were sitting up high on stilts. I’d never seen anything like it.
 
“I guess they’re worried about floods here,” I remarked softly. I had to admit, the houses looked pretty cool, sitting up high on solid, wooden beams. Like they were too cool to hang out on the ground with the rest of the houses.
 
“Yeah, sometimes the river gets high around here. But there hasn’t been a major flood in forty years,” my mom said, answering for George.
 
But then he said, “Nearly thirty houses and businesses were torn down and rebuilt. They built smarter the second time around, preparing for floods. But we won’t have to worry about that…”
 
Rolling down the window, I leaned my head out, sucking in deep breaths of damp July air. Why did they tear them down? And who were “they”? I wanted to ask, but then I could almost hear…water.
 
There it was—rolling, murky water with steaming pipes from a nuclear plant on the other side of the river. A huge sea of nothing but water, and more nothingness beyond it. An old, metal walking bridge glittered in the distance. “It’s down here,” George nearly whispered, taking a turn onto Clemmons Street.
 
There were nearly six houses on both sides of the street, all built on stilts . But at the end was a gigantic Victorian home, its own flood wall behind it, sitting right on the river. It towered in the black night sky, moonlight dancing crazily on the rough waters in the background.
 
It was beautiful in an eerie sort of way and as we pulled up in front of it, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand upright. Could it be…? The House of Horrors…?
That’s right. I did my research on this place. The town of Flocksdale had a history. A nasty, evil sort of history.
 
Nearly twenty years ago, a deranged family ran some sort of trafficking/drug ring. The bodies of nearly forty young girls were found buried in the crawlspaces, basements, and backyards of the townspeople involved in the operation. The townspeople of Flocksdale.
All of the perpetrators were either apprehended or dead, but it still gave me the creeps. I’d read everything I could find on the internet about the murders. In some of the write-ups, I’d read about the description of the main house used in the kidnappings and subsequent killings—an old, creepy Victorian. A description that seemed to fit this one.
 
Surely, there were other Victorian homes in this town? Right…?
 
I’d tried to tell my mom, and even George, about it. But George ignored me, and my mom said, “Every town has history and crime is everywhere, Marianna. George grew up there, so it must be all right.” Yeah…that made me feel a whole hell of a lot better.
 
George parked the SUV in a concrete driveway out front of the house. I made no attempt to get out. I stared up at this beautiful monster of a house, wondering what was in store for me in this creepy little town with its even creepier history. I shivered involuntarily. Two words came to mind: Fuck Flocksdale.
 
 
 
– FLOCKSDALE FILES SERIES – 
 
 
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL? – Book 1
 
★ Paperback: http://amzn.to/1Q6FAhr
– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –
CARISSA ANN LYNCH
Besides my family, my greatest love in life is books. Reading them, writing them, holding them, smelling them…well, you get the idea. I’ve always loved to read and never considered myself a “writer” until a few years ago when I couldn’t find a book to read and decided to try writing my own story. I’m the author of Have You Seen This Girl? (Flocksdale Files Book #1), Grayson’s Ridge, and This Is Not About Love. I reside in Floyds Knobs, Indiana with my husband, children, and massive collection of books.