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Jack Jetstark’s Intergalactic FreakShow
Title: Ball & Chain
Author: Laura Garner
Genre: Adult Contemporary Mystery/Romance
Release Date: August 30, 2018
When notorious PI Maddie Maxwell is hired to track down "the most boring woman in the world," she doesn't expect to find instead her own bad-boy ex, a string of dead bodies spanning a decade, and a neglected little girl who might change her life forever.
The challenging case of the missing Jane Blake leads Max through a maze of Catholic mysticism, crazy family dynamics, and some huge personal ups and downs. Has her ex really mended his ways, or is his supposed reform just another act? Did Jane really have visions of the Virgin Mary? And what's the story with the mysterious little Claire, who's taken a vow of silence until Jane returns?
Narrated in Max's blunt, unfiltered voice, "Ball & Chain" takes the reader through a whirlwind mystery full of faith, despair, love, hate, and -- ultimately -- hope.
Hired to track down a missing woman, newbie PI Max finds her own bad-boy ex, a string of corpses spanning a decade, and a fierce little girl who steals her heart. Hush
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- Are you a book blogger? --
Twilight Siege
-- EXCERPT: On the other side of the bed from where I sat the air shimmered with magic as a man materialized. Merlin stood opposite me, his features wrought with concern. Each time I saw him he looked exactly the same, whether it was as a vendor in a Belfast market twenty years ago, or a patron in the museum on my first day of work a month ago. White-blond hair neatly styled and sharp ice blue eyes softened by a few wrinkles in the corners. He looked sophisticated and worldly, but at that moment he also wore compassion and grief. Our eyes held each other for a long pregnant moment, long enough to further thaw my ravaged emotions. I had thought I would have nothing to say to this man who had set the events in motion that led me to the absolute lowest point in my life. However, seeing him stand before me, I had questions that needed to be asked. “Why have you done this? Why me?” My voice was no more than a whisper. “I spent years in that market, watching and interacting, knowing I had to find just the right child. Someone who was receptive to the magic, someone who lived far away where Morgan would not find them. When you approached my booth and were drawn instantly to the necklace, I knew you were the one.” “Did you know it would make me Fae?” “I wasn’t entirely sure, but I had my suspicions.” “Did you think about the other impacts on my life, the effect it would have on my loved ones?” “Nothing I could say or do will ever ease the burden of what I have forced upon you. There are some of us who bear a disproportionate degree of hardship in life, whether owed to circumstances of our birth or a course of events during our lifetime. There is never a reason adequate enough to justify our struggles sufficient to ease the burden. The only balm that will help you is that which comes from the acceptance of your circumstances. Once you let go of how you got to your current situation and look toward how you can improve your future station, then you will be enlightened in a way that is truly empowering.”
GIVEAWAY! Taxed by Love
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo Only 99¢ for a limited time! -- EXCERPT: Andrew stared at her text. He’d given up on his food and his last task at eight o’clock. Memories of their lunch date plagued him, and he wished he’d had more time with her. In a weak moment, he’d texted her again. Only now he was slack-jawed as he reread her message. Gabrielle didn’t come across like a woman who would sleep with multiple men at one time. Then again, Andrew didn’t know her well. She was a gorgeous woman who could easily command a group of men to worship her body. A body he wanted to worship. No help required. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Of course, it didn’t help at all. Gabrielle: Cat got your tongue? He narrowed his eyes and imagined spanking her firm ass for making him feel out of balance. Andrew: You’re screwing with me? Gabrielle: I’m sure you’d know if I was “screwing” with you… He chuckled and shook his head. His eyes moved the words around and read, “screwing you,” and he hardened. Andrew: There’s no way I wouldn’t be sure. I can promise you that you’d have my undivided attention. Gabrielle: I’m glad to hear that. Andrew smiled like a fool and looked around. At least he was at home with no one to witness his juvenile reaction. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to when he’d touched Gabby earlier in the day. It hadn’t been nearly enough. He wasn’t sure how long he was lost in thought, his hand wrapped around his cock, when the phone next to him dinged and pulled him from his fantasy. If it weren’t from the object of his desire, he would have ignored the text and continued torturing himself with images of Gabby’s perky breasts. Gabrielle: I’m with Marc and Lindsey. Noah, Sofia, Jaime Lynn, and Jesse are here too. I just met Charlie as well. Reading Marc’s name was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him. Had this been how his buddy felt the entire time he’d fought his attraction to Lindsey? A pull toward a woman he knew was forbidden fruit. The constant fear of losing someone you loved because of a woman. Andrew: Three men. Aren’t you clever. I’d tell you to say hello but… Gabrielle: But you’d like not to have your ass handed to you? Andrew: Pretty much. Gabrielle: You realize that Marc has no control over who I date right? Andrew chuckled as he imagined Marc trying to step into Gabby’s love life. He was a stubborn fool, but Andrew was pretty sure Gabby held the trump card every time. Andrew: If it wasn’t me trying to date you I’d be grabbing popcorn to see him try. Gabrielle: Is that what you’re trying to do? Date me? He stared at her words. His initial reaction was to yell yes! What was it about this woman? Andrew didn’t date; he fucked. Beautiful women with their beautiful curves, regardless of their ethnicity, hair color, or occupations. Strictly speaking, he loved taking women to bed. He didn’t date them. Before he could stop his fingers, he hit Send. Andrew: Yes… “What the fuck are you doing, Drew?” he snapped.
GIVEAWAY! Eight Goodbyes
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: “Who knows you’re here?” she asked. “You mean, specifically here? In Hong Kong?” She nodded. “No one. My family and friends think I’m traveling for work.” “Ah. So if anything happened to you, how do they know where to look?” she asked, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. “Well, when they find my phone and the one thousand pictures of you, they’ll know,” he said. She laughed. Rather uncomfortably. This is what having an affair feels like. It’s you and him and no one else. “Adrian doesn’t know I’m here.” This time he leaned forward, closer to her. “Does Riley know you’re here?” “She has to. Even if I don’t tell her directly, Jake knows. He’s very protective that way. Needs to know where I go, who I’m with.” “You seem so attached, the two of you.” “He’s the only constant in my life.” He stayed silent. She hadn’t intended to offend him with that comment. But then she decided that it was too soon to even think of his role in her life. That was the real crux of the matter, and she wanted to keep it top of mind. What about you, your parents? Do you see them often while you’re home?” He laughed. “As a matter of fact, I have dinner with them every Sunday. They don’t live far from my old apartment. I’m moving to Chelsea when I get back which is a little further away, but I know my mum will find every excuse to come and visit. I’ll be too close to the shopping area for her to resist. She likes to get out sometimes. Leave the farm.” “We’re lucky we have family we can count on,” she said. “But none of them know we’re together,” he said, his tone lowered, quiet. “Why does anyone need to know? Who cares?” she asked in defiance. She observed the way he picked up another dumpling with his chopsticks and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. “Okay, let me rephrase that,” she said. “In time, they’ll know.” He smiled. “Better.” He looked at his watch. She could tell that he wanted to change the subject. And she didn’t have to try. A round of applause filled the room. Tessa and Simon turned to see a man on one knee with his arms in the air, proposing to a very embarrassed woman. “At a dimsum restaurant?” Simon smirked. “Hey! You’ll never know! Maybe this is a special place for them,” Tessa said. “Must be,” he answered, pulling his wallet out at the same time. He motioned for the dimsum man to bring the check over. The man counted the different colored plates, each with a code for the food they ordered, wrote with lightning speed on a pad of paper, tore it off unevenly and handed it to Simon. As he examined the bill, Simon said, “I forgot that your Twitter profile says ‘hopeless romantic.’“ “Love makes the world go ‘round!” she said in response, pausing to follow up with an afterthought. “At least in Romance books!”
GIVEAWAY! Private D*ck
-- EXCERPT: Sienna GirlsGone Wild. Well,that was how I thought of it as we landed in dazzling Las Vegas. I was a little nervous though, because it was one of the first times I’d traveledoutside of the Big Apple. By plane at least. Most other trips had taken place in cars, motorhomes, oh, and once on a motorcycle. That was a day to remember, andat the same time,it was a day I wanted to forget in equal measure. As we waited to get to our destination, Michaela and Donna chatted away like two raving lunatics. Drinking on the plane wasn’t the best thing to do, in my opinion. Going to the bathroom every couple of minutes was bad enough, especially when you got there with your legs crossed and the sign said, “Engaged.” I was busy thinking of the motorcycle trip. Travis said to hold on tight. That was never something he needed to doubt… because I was absolutely, fully, desperately petrified. He wrongly mistook this as affection, rather than me hanging on from the fear of falling off, and I had quite-literally been terrified about rolling down the street like a tumbleweed in a gale. Even now, I get shivers down my spine when I think about how scary it was. I looked up and came back into reality. The smiling hostess said we were free to leave the plane. I put my hand on Donna’s shoulder as we exited the busy sea of people. “Have a nice trip and enjoy your stay,” the hostess said as I reached the front door and the tunnel. How polite and well-dressed they were in their flashy, yellow, safety jackets. I was actually impressed. We walked through the terminal and made our way toward the security desks. There was a bit of a line. However,they couldn’t be too careful with all the terrible things going on in the world. Terrorism had made life hard for every traveler in the sky. As we walked through the terminal,I looked aboveme. They’ddone a magnificent job of advertising Las Vegas, while not making the airport appear trashy. Above where we walked there was a mural of all things associated with the tinsel town. It looked glorious, fabulous even. I guessed it was based on a nineteen-sixties design and had all the big casino names and stars of that incredibleera. Frank Sinatra, Elvis --I’m all shookup, and the piano god himself, Liberace. I stood with my toes on the exactedge of the yellow line as the instruction said to do. I always liked rules. You couldn’t go wrong if you knew what was expected of you. I waited patiently as Donna slid her passport to the friendlysecurity man who sat in his small cubicle. Donna leaned on her elbow and twirled her gum around her finger. My turn. I skipped excitedly to the guard and handed him my identification. I clamped my hands together and smiled. I hoped that traveling nerves didn’traise their suspicion, or they might’ve thought I’d smuggled something. “Business or pleasure?” he asked as he scanned my face. “All pleasure. It’s my first big trip out of New York, unless you count the time on a motorcycle, and…” I said, cutting myself short. I realized there was still a line of people also waiting behind the yellow line. “Come on will you!” Donna yelled. I smiled at the security guard. “BFF, you know what they’re like. Overexcitedand keen to hit the Strip, as I suppose you call it around here.” “Have a nice trip.” He looked at my ID. “Sienna,” he replied, sliding my ID back under the glass. I jogged as quickly as I could with my travel luggage wobbling from one wheel to the next. We stepped on the travellator and made our way to get our luggage. “What number of roundthing are we at?” Michaela asked. Donna laughed. “Carousel.” A flash of color appeared before us as we reached the top of the escalator that led to the baggage claim. It wasn’t understated by a long chalky line. Gold, backlit stars sat on grey metallic paneling that were situated to the sides of a broadyellow Welcome To,and underneath were massivered and yellow letters that only spelled one thing. Allin caps… LAS VEGAS. As if anyone wouldn’t know where they were at this point of their holiday. Michaela looked at me in a playful, but stern manner. “Okay,Miss Smarty Pants, just cause youse heducatedan’ all that,” she replied, in the worst, possible, fake accent I’d ever heard. I stood leaning on the handle of the cart. MichaelaandDonna sat waiting for our cases to pop from the big hole in the wall. Donna threw her arms into the air like a soccer player who’d missed an important goal. She hated waiting for anything, even coffee. As we waited,I looked around and up. The enormousconcrete columns reached high to the roof and must have been (approximately)forty or fifty feet. It was at that point that I stood in awe, with my head craned upward and looking at each of the bluey-white lights that shone around each column. The color scheme all had a tint of blue or gray. Shiny gray tiles (two-tone) with a mottled effect, polished stainless steel, and all the signage which mostly looked like blue neon. One thing stood out from the blue and silver theme. I turned my head and noticed a flash of red and white. Wow! “Hey girls. Look up!” Donna and Michaela ignored meentirely. I stood underneath a plane that hung from the ceiling. Typical, it was to advertise. “The Hacienda Hotel.” “Yes! Here we go,” Donna squealed as our cases magically came one after the other. That was very surprising. I thought we might have had to wait until near the end. That must be so painful, the thought your case might be left back in the city. As we ambled closer to the luggage desk, I noticed other things that increased in numbers. The airport was home to a seriousamount of slot machines. I wonder how many people have lost big time, without even leaving the airport? We walked to the Nothing to Declare,green light. I had nothing in my case to actually declare, butI still had that feeling of apprehension. What if someone had tampered and slipped something inside? One of those harmfuldrugs… or something desperately illegal. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” the luggage checker said as I started walking through the gate. “Yes!” I squealed ina mouse-likevoice. “Can I check your bags please?” he said. I gave a nod to signal my permission. He walked from behind the counter and lifted my case onto the countertop. He asked me for the combination, soI gave it to himwithout attempting to open it myself. I stood watching with clammy hands. He openedthe case and folded back the top half. I watched nervously as he rummaged through my clothes. I closed my eyes. No! Not my underwear, please. The guard gave a cough. I sensed that was a signal of some kind, and then he pushed his hand inside my panties pile. Oh boy,that’s a first. Airport security hadtheir hands inside your panties before you left the airport. Weird. Donna and Michaela stood inside the sliding doors and waited there. Donna looked annoyed, as per usual. I guessed it was rather hot outside. The sun streamed through the doors, and as I got there after my weird search by the bag guy, we all slipped our sunglasses over our eyes. The doors parted, andit was hot, sweltering hot. “My word, it’s warm,” I said. Donna huffed as she fought to stand her case on its end. She sat and slumped her shoulders in half-defeat. “You mean it’s freakin’ hot! Just say it, Sienna. Christ, sometimes you can be so naïve.” “Donna… Donna… Donna. You know we shouldn’t use a wordlike that.” Donna stood and spread her arms. “Fuck it, woman, we’re in Vegas.” I looked over my shoulder and bowed my head a little. I was slightly embarrassed at her gung-hoattitude. I’d hoped this trip wasn’t going to be a mistake. First real vacation and my friends ruin it for me. I hoped not. They could be selfish, sometimes. I didn’t really understand why. Michaela waved a cabbie who pulled up. The cabbie opened the trunk and squeezed our cases into the back. “Where you going?” he asked. I turned to Donna and Michaela. I saw they had no idea what the name of the place was. I shook my head and tutted under my breath. “The Queen’s Hand.” “Nice place. It’s not the largest place in the world, but it’s got everything you girls will need,” the cab driver explained, politely. Donna leaned on the front seat. “Mister, you know if it’s got a pool?” He gave no answer as he sang to a Jamaican-inspired song on the radio. I don’t think he heard her, to be honest. The cab pulled out from the airport and headed down the Strip. Hechatted with Donna as her lips smacked while she lovingly chewed on her gum. I heard him say the motel had a rooftoppool, which was convenient. One elevator ride from the second floor to the roof, and all that sunbathing. I imagined us all sipping on exotic cocktails while tanning and relaxing. I leaned my head against the window and looked at all the obscure motels and casinos we passed as we made our way to Fremont Street. I’d done some research, andThe Queen’s Hand was the top end of motelsthat wasn’t on the Las Vegas Strip. If it hadn’t been for the fact we gained a significantdiscount,we might’ve ended up nowhere near the hub of activity at all. “No more Tanby and Tanby for a while. I can forget all that number crunching,” I said to Michaela. “Why did you go into accounting in the first place? You gotta admit, it’s not very girly, isit?Look at Donna. She’s the epitome of femininity, and she has the perfect job to show it off.” I sat with a really puzzled expression on my face when I turned to look at Michaela and answer. “Donna works in a shoe store.” “What was that?” Donna said, turning her head from chatting with the cabbie. I smiled at her. “Nothing, we were just commenting on how feminine you are.” Donna smacked her lips in response and finished by blowing me a kiss. “Yeah-right! I come from the Bronx, you think I’m gonna be ladylike?” Michaela turned to me and smiled. “What did I tell you? What an absolute lady.” The cab pulled to the front of The Queen’s Hand. A valet opened the trunk and pulled out the cases and loaded them onto a cart. With a wide smile, he wheeled them through the front door of the motel. We stood and looked at the frontage. It was very-much understated because it was right onthe corner. The entrance sat under a golden-litcanopy with the words emblazoned like sequins. It looked amazing as each letter twinkled with silver, sparkling lights. “I have to say. The service is excellent. How helpful theyall are,” I said as we walked toward the foyer. Immediately, I saw that the inside was a little more glamorous, a blast from the past, in a way. White marble floors that were in layedwith smaller ebony colors at the corner of the floor tiles. The counter appeared to be real cream marble, and it had decorative circles embellished down the full length of it. I then looked up. The ceiling was covered in mirrors and lights. We checked in and found out that we were, in fact, booked in on the second floor. The valet wheeled the cart to the elevator and smiled politely as he walked us to the room. He slid the key in the lock and pushed open the door. Donna entered first, as usual, and it made sense because she’d always been the assertive one.Andthen, Michaela and I walked in after her. I was pleasantly surprised how clean and inviting it felt. The room looked lovely. Two, large, double beds (two of us were to share) and funky-colored, striped drapes. Apart from that, the furnishings looked top quality and were dark oak, mostly. Atop the drawers sat a large flat screen for the times when we weren’t lounging around by the pool. The valet politely coughed. I sensed he was waiting for a tip. I reached intomy bag and pulled out ten dollars and slid it into the palm of his hand. He left. “You tipped him?” Michaela asked. “Of course. Statistics say that people in this line of work rely on…” I attempted to say. “Of course they do,” Donna butted in, as she focused on looking out of the window. Michaela started to strip. “I’m not sure about you two, but I’m going up to the roof pool to do a little evening swimming.” Donna yelled with excitement. “I’m coming with you. Sienna, you gonna come, or what?” “I’ll give it a miss. I’m going to have a walk around downstairs and check out the amenities.” “Suit yourself, you know where we are.” The door slammed as the two girls headed upstairs, nearly immediately. I changed into something a little more casual. I shoved twenty dollars into my pocket with the room keys, and then I headed back down to the ground floor. I looked at the large notice board and read what was on offer. It was easy to see that for the hustle and bustleand free music, we’d definitely chosen the right place. Fremont Street staged the free Downtown Hoedownthis week, which might be fun. I tilted my head back as I heard screams billowing in shrieks from the gaming room. It sounded as if someone just won a jackpot on one of the slot machines. I was tempted. My pocket had a twenty that itched to be changed and join in the fun. I liked gambling… in moderation. I left the cashier window with a paper cup full of coins and strolled around the slots. By the time I’d reached halfway down the container,I thoughtI wouldn’t win. And then… Not the jackpot, although coins streamed out from the machine. I happily filled the cup, and then some. I headed back to the cashier’swindow and converted them all to chips. My twenty had now become fifty. I walked around the tables. Poker —too hard. Craps —I really had no idea how to play. So, as if by magic, I found myself at the roulette table. I knew this was pretty simple. Pick a number and place your bets as the croupier called out each time he spun the wheel. I stuck to red and black —being an accountant I hedged my bets against losses, and slowly increased my pile of wonderful chips. Suddenly, I felt that someone was watching me. I looked up and saw a familiar face. I kept my head bowed as I glanced from the corner of my eye. A little older than me, with short, dark hair. Piercing brown eyes. Where did I recognize himfrom? Think, think. Oh… Shit. He’s coming this way. The apartment building? Oh boy! He’s coming to me. I felt a warmth pursue my face. I kept my head tilted as the croupier slid another few chips in my direction. Elevator. He’sthe guy who goes past floor two. It’s…it’s…floor four. I recognized the guy. He lived in the same apartment building as me in New York. I noticed his face in the polished stainless steel of the elevator. He leaned on the rear wall and looked cool, calm and collected. Tanby and Tanby. He worked at the same firm as me. The guy with the smoldering good looks and rugged, handsome features. It’s…it’s… that hotshotlawyer. It’s Benjamin Barker. In my motel, in Vegas. At myroulette table. Walking toward me. Oh God! He sidled up at the side of me. He must’ve seen that I’d recognized him. Who wouldn’t recognizethe one and only Benjamin Barker? All the girls swooned in the office when he was around.I wondered why he was here. In Vegas, at the same time. “Benj…” he started to say with a smile. I impolitely butted in. More from nerves than being ignorant. “Sienna. We live in the same apartment, I’m floor two, and you’re… um,” I said. “Four.” I then mentioned we worked at the same firm (Tanby and Tanby) and he asked if I was a guest at the motel. He smelled divine. A mix of peppermint and strawberry that made my nose feel tickly. “Second floor.” He smiled. “Well! Isn’t that a coincidence?” he chortled. Isn’t it just. GIVEAWAY! Undisclosed
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- -Are you a book blogger? -- EXCERPT: Eveline Claude blinked slowly. “Come again?” A muscle jumped in the jawline of the man seated on the other side of the conference room table. “You don’t own the freehold to the Tokyo branch of Le Secret,” Malcolm Brooks repeated stiffly. Eveline’s pulse started to race as she stared from Brooks to his poker-faced partner, Victor Kline. “I’m sorry, did I just hear you say that I don’t own the tenure of one of my most successful business enterprises?” Silence greeted her stunned question. “Are you guys yanking my chain right now?” Eveline chuckled in disbelief. “You are, aren’t you? Because there’s no way my one-thousand-dollar-per-hour, top-notch city lawyers just informed me that they fucked up.” Brooks glanced at Kline. “Told you she’d bring up the hourly fee,” he muttered. Kline ignored his partner and studied Eveline with an impassive expression. “Of course, we’ll be working to resolve this matter pro bono. The mistake is ours and we cannot apologize enough on behalf of the firm.” Eveline’s mouth went dry as she looked between the two men and realized they were serious. The first inkling that her day was going to turn out to be gloriously shitty began at six a.m., when the fire alarm in her apartment building went off. Having left Le Secret at two, Eveline wasn’t pleased that her much needed beauty sleep had been interrupted by some asshole who hadn’t figured out how to use his new waffle maker. Her ire rose tenfold when she went to collect her car from the underground garage and noticed the fresh scratch on her midnight blue Maserati. She’d made a note to ask the security guards to check the cameras covering the parking lot and had barreled out of the building and into the early morning Tokyo traffic at twice the allowed speed limit; she hated being late for an appointment and her nine o’clock meeting with Brooks & Kline was taking place on the other side of town. She’d made it to their office on the twelfth floor of the glass and steel high-rise housing their law firm with four minutes to spare and had waited impatiently in the conference room, curious as to why they’d requested the urgent face to face. It was Brooks who’d called her the day before to set up the meeting. “Something’s come up. We need to talk,” the lawyer said cryptically after Eveline’s assistant put his call through. Eveline paused and lowered her cup of coffee, her gaze shifting from the busy dual computer screens on the desk before her, to the glorious views beyond the panoramic windows to her right. Her office was located next to a small, private flat she kept above Le Secret and overlooked Ginza, the most famous and exclusive district in Tokyo. Eveline frowned as she studied the busy intersection outside, the first seed of unease stirring inside her. “What’s this about, Malcolm? It’s rare for you to call me yourself.” “I know. It would be best if we had this conversation face to face,” Brooks replied. He’d refused to answer Eveline’s questions and gave her the details of their appointment before disconnecting. Though she’d been troubled by her enigmatic conversation with the lawyer, Eveline soon forgot about the exchange, the daily demands of running her internationally renowned and incredibly successful chain of upscale escort clubs consuming all her attention and focus. Business was booming, especially since she’d opened the latest branch of Le Secret in Singapore. Eveline swallowed presently and leaned back in the sleek metal and leather chair of the conference room, her knuckles whitening where she gripped the arm rests. Maybe I should have thrown salt over my left shoulder before I left my apartment this morning. Or burned some incense or do whatever it is people do to ward off bad luck. She studied the two lawyers with narrowed eyes. “Explain to me exactly how this happened.” Brooks sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while Kline slid a file across the table. “It seems Mr. Nagato forged the documents his lawyers provided to us five years ago, when he sold you the plot in Ginza as a freehold,” Brooks said bitterly. “What you actually bought off him was the right to lease. His son-in-law works for the local land registry office and we suspect he made the counterfeit papers. According to one of our contacts in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the Nagatos have connections with an organized crime syndicate that specializes in land rights grabs.” Eveline tensed, her gaze skimming the folder before her distractedly. “You mean, they’re part of the Yakuza?” Kline grimaced. “They are linked to them in a distant, convoluted fashion, yes.” Eveline’s heart pounded as she digested the implication of the lawyers’ words. The Yakuza were the Japanese equivalent of the Italian Mafia. Having witnessed secondhand what the mob did to their business rivals in New York, Eveline had no desire to associate with the local criminal organizations here in Japan, even if she suspected several of the clients who had visited the Tokyo branch of Le Secret over the last five years had some kind of connection to them. Eveline clenched her jaw. “What can we do about this? I paid Nagato a hefty sum of money for that land. We’re talking seven figures here, as you both well know.” She paused, an unwelcome thought bringing a bitter taste to her mouth. “Wait. Did he even own that plot? Don’t tell me the asshole sold me someone else’s—” “He does,” Kline said. “Or he did.” “We’ve already lodged an appeal in court to contest the new owner’s claim to the freehold,” Brooks said. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s going to take some time to—” “New owner?” Eveline scowled. “What the hell do you mean, new owner?” She jumped to her feet and leaned her hands on the table. “Are you telling me that conniving bastard sold my land to someone else?!” “Yes,” Brooks said quietly. “And this time, the documents he provided were the legitimate ones.” Eveline took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes briefly, her nails biting into her palms where she’d fisted her fingers. “I’m gonna kill him,” she hissed. Eveline grabbed her bag and stormed toward the conference room exit. “I’m gonna strangle that lowlife with my bare hands and dump his body in Tokyo Bay! What’s his address?” “Sit down, Eveline,” Kline said with a sigh. Eveline stopped by the door and whirled around. “I’m not kidding, Victor! I hope you guys know a good criminal lawyer ‘cause I’m going to need—” “Nagato is dead,” Brooks said. Eveline froze. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her eyes rounding as she gaped at the two lawyers. “What?!” she shrieked. “Nagato died three weeks ago,” Kline stated. “It was a heart attack, apparently.” A light-headed feeling swept over Eveline. She made her way back to the table on unsteady legs and flopped down in the chair she had just vacated. “He completed the sale of the freehold a few days before his death,” Brooks added. Kline leaned across the table and opened the file in front of Eveline. “This is the letter we received yesterday from the new owner’s law firm.” Eveline blinked before focusing on the top sheet of the paperwork before her. “The land in Ginza is now the property of Lincoln Hudson, the President and CEO of the Hudson Group,” Kline continued. “His lawyers have given us formal notice that Le Secret’s leasehold rights will be revoked in thirty days.” Eveline’s hands trembled as she picked up the letter and read it over, the words blurring in front of her eyes. Her heart sank as she finally absorbed its content. It was just as Kline had said. The new owner of the plot on which Le Secret stood had given her thirty days to dissolve her business and vacate his land. “Wouldn’t a leasehold be for fifty years?” Eveline mumbled. “Can he even do this?” “The new leasehold law that came into effect twenty-five years ago gives the landowner the right to refuse the leaseholder permission to run a business on his property,” Kline said. “Hudson is completely within his rights to issue a revocation order.” Blood thundered in Eveline’s ears, the sound matching the emotions storming through her as she stared blindly at the printed text. She put the letter down, inhaled shakily, and stared at the men opposite her. When it rains, it fucking pours. “How long will the court appeal take?” she said, her voice growing steely as cogwheels started turning in her brain. She had not come this far in life without learning how to roll with some punches. Eveline frowned. Or how to get back up and knock the enemy right out of the ring. “Six weeks,” Brooks said. Eveline drummed the fingers of her right hand on the table, her polished, red-lacquered nails rapping an impatient tempo. “Can we do anything to expedite it?” “We’ve got a meeting with one of the judges this afternoon,” Kline said. “As to whether he will be willing to bring the case forward is not something I’d want to bet money on.” Eveline gritted her teeth. “Do the Hudson Group President and his lawyers know the details of this affair? As in Nagato swindling me out of—” “They know,” Brooks said. “We spoke to Lincoln Hudson’s lawyers and his secretary yesterday after we received the letter. Hudson’s secretary got back to us thirty minutes ago.” Eveline leaned forward in her chair, her heart pounding against her ribs. “And? Is he willing to negotiate something?” “Hudson said that it ain’t his problem,” Kline muttered. Eveline stilled. “What?” Brooks rubbed his eyes tiredly. “According to his secretary, Lincoln Hudson’s exact words were ‘I don’t give a flying fuck’.”
GIVEAWAY!
Title: One Stormy Night: a Kissing Frogs prequel
Author: Kim Deister
Genre: Contemporary/Historical/PNR/18+
Release Date: August 14, 2018
Cover Designer: Kennedy Kelly of Cover Crush Designs
Finneas O'Malley is not a man built for love. He could never love a woman more than he loves the adventure and danger of a life at sea, the freedom to chase the wind wherever it takes him. The lure of a foreign land, the danger of a battle at sea, the exotic lasses he beds... how could any man turn away from that?
But when Finn wrongs Siofra, all of that changes. Curses. Magic. Centuries of being beholden to a vengeful fae who wants nothing more than to destroy him. Can he find a way to break the curse? Will he find the very thing he once scorned?
I was born and raised in a tiny town in the wilds of northern New York, a pretty, little college town called Potsdam. I grew up in a family of lawyers and teachers and bucked all the traditions. Before becoming a writer, I spent a lot of years wearing combat boots in the US Army. I spent most of my time in boots working as a Signals Intelligence Analyst (no jokes!) and a linguist. I also worked as a tech writer, an entirely different kind of writing, for Corning Glass Works. Now, I’m an Army wife and a mom to four sons. Over the years, our Army life has taken us all over the place and I have been lucky enough to work and live in some pretty amazing places. Now we live in Hawaii, just minutes from the beach!
I am a writer thoroughly in love with words. Reading them, writing them... I love that words can take you outside of your world and let the unimaginable become imaginable. When I’m not writing or lounging on the beach, I’m probably somewhere with my nose in a book.
The Forgotten Child
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