Soul Slam, Adventurous YA Romance - Giveaway

Surprise! I didn't know what to expect when I received this invitation to join the Goddess Fish Party.And since I'm in the throes of the holiday madness I probably left writing this a bit late. But I wanted to introduce myself.

I'm really excited about the release of my book Soul Slam, an adventurous young adult romance. It has clues, chases, first kisses, paranormal elements, and love. Best of all its about romance and finding your soul mate. I hope you'll take a peek at the description and the excerpt below.

Leave a comment and your email addressto win a free ebook copy of Soul Slam.

And I'm giving away a Kindle if I reach 100 newsletter subscribers on my website at www.allieburton.com.

Soul Slam
Soul Force Book 1

A sixteen-year-old on her first heist to steal an ancient Egyptian amulet inadvertently receives the soul of King Tut…and the deadly curse that comes with it.

And Olivia is not alone at the museum.

A member of a secret society, Xander believes it is his place to inherit King Tut’s soul and justly rule. He knows nothing about the society’s evil plan to control the world or the curse. Now, he must deal with the female imposter who stole the amulet.

Xander convinces Olivia they must form a temporary partnership. The two teens develop a connection, and together they must figure out how to end the curse before it turns deadly. On the run, unable to touch because of the curse, and managing the male soul inside her female body, Olivia must learn to trust Xander.
As the mystery surrounding the amulet unfolds, Olivia and Xander start to fall for each other. But is love enough to save them and the world from destruction?

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Olivia, hide.” Fitch, Gangfather, took cover across the corridor behind a sign announcing the King Tut exhibition right before a shadow fell over me.

I swallowed a gasp and crouched behind one of the vertical mummy cases littering the darkened hallway of the museum. I gripped the tire iron with sweaty hands. My heart beat a frenzied drill in my chest, echoing the clump, clump, clump of the footsteps coming this way.

The footsteps drew nearer. The shadow morphed from blob to human as it passed an emergency light. The profile clearly outlined a security guard’s hat. A security guard who wasn’t supposed to be here.

This is not what Fitch promised for my first heist.

We go in. Grab the amulet. Get out. That was the plan.

In slow motion, Fitch raised his arms and brought them silently crashing down, signaling he wanted me to take the guard out.

I shook my head. What were the odds the guard headed for the same exhibit?

Fitch’s wrinkled face grew stern. This was not a request. Get the guard now or pay for not listening later.

The guard paced across the floor heading our way, toward the exhibition about the Egyptian boy king. I didn’t care about all-important titles, didn’t want to rule the world. All I cared about was surviving. Collecting the prize for Fitch so I could stay in his family and watch over the younger kids.

Fitch signaled the crashing motion again. Then he pointed a gnarled finger at me, raised his hand to his neck and made a slashing motion across. My knees knocked together like chattering teeth. My perspiration had perspiration. If I didn’t get the guard out of the way, Fitch would get me out of the way.

The guard passed. I forced my knees to still. Fitch wouldn’t let this guy ruin the plan. The plan he designed down to the last second. The plan to be executed by me.

Or I’d be executed.

Actually, an execution wouldn’t be so bad. At least it was fast. If I didn’t pull this off, my fate would be long, slow, torturous.

Like my life.

No. Fitch would never execute me. He got too much pleasure abusing me. Without me to kick around he’d have nothing to do. His slashing motion had been overly-dramatic.

The guard strolled closer. So close, his evergreen aftershave tickled my nose.

My hands clutched and unclutched the tire iron. My stomach cramped and my gaze went fuzzy. I couldn’t stand here and wait for us to be discovered. I couldn’t let this security guard go into the King Tut exhibit. I couldn’t delay this heist any longer.

I raised my arms and held the tire iron high. The guard walked by. His thin frame and wiry mustache reminded me of someone from my past. My way distant past. Ignoring the tingle of memory, I gathered my courage to hit the guard on the head and knock him out. Just like Fitch wanted.

I waited…waited.

At the last second I pulled back. I couldn’t hurt an innocent guy. He was just doing his job. Probably a dad. Then his kids would end up like me. Or Tina and Doug.

The guard continued forward. So what if we had to wait for him to finish his rounds before we stole the amulet. Fitch couldn’t do much more to me. He already treated me like a slave. I lowered the tire iron and let out a slow breath.

The guard swiveled back around.

My relieved breath must’ve given me away. Fitch would kill me if we were caught. Panic jolted as if someone had attached jumper cables and revved the engine. I leapt behind the security guard and shoved him toward one of the open mummy cases. He wiggled, trying to fight, but surprise was on my side. All one hundred pounds of me pushed and shoved to get his small frame inside. I slammed the cover shut and leaned, using all my weight to keep it closed. Then, I braced the tire iron against the carved out arms on the mummy case lid and the grooved tile floor.

The guard pounded on the inside like a soul begging to get out. His mumbled yells scratched at my nerves. I hoped he wasn’t claustrophobic.

“So, sorry.” I lifted my shoulders high trying to block out the sound and shake off the icky-ness of leaving him in an enclosed, small, dark space. I couldn’t feel sorry for him. At least he was alive.

“You stupid kid.” Fitch came out from his hiding spot yelling in a whisper. His diamond-cut eyes lasered into me. His misshapen hands curled like he wanted to crush my windpipe. “You were supposed to knock him out. What if he saw our faces?”

Fitch had been angry before. A lot. But I’d never seen rage fill every pore of his skin, spew from every breath, vibrate off his entire body.

“He didn’t.” My voice sounded confident, but inside I was a shivering mass of nerves. “I pushed him from behind.”

“You think you’re so smart.” Fitch’s tone was not complimentary. “What’re we supposed to do with the guy now?”

The guard kept banging.

“He’s going to alert another guard.” Yellow spittle flew from Fitch’s mouth. “We’re on a tight schedule. We don’t have time to deal with this.”

I glanced up and down the hallway. “We could call for back-up. Have one of the older guys come and get him.”

“No cell.”

Right. I slapped my empty back pocket. Our technophobe client had insisted we not take cell phones on this job, afraid the phones would give our location away to authorities. I felt naked without it.

“I’ll take care of the security guard while you get the amulet.”

Alone? My first job? The beat of my heart scurried like the rats in the warehouse we call home. “Wh-what?”

“We don’t have time for one of your educational discussions.” Fitch grabbed my arm in a painful squeeze. For a guy who acts feeble, he can be strong when he wants to. “Get the amulet like you practiced. I’ll meet you on the loading dock.”

“B-b-but—”

“I should’ve used Tina and Doug.”

“They’re only ten.” Twins, Tina and Doug had been abandoned by their druggie parents. “They’re way too young to crawl around a museum stealing a priceless artifact.”

They deserved so much better. And I planned to give it to them.

“At least they would’ve listened.” Fitch angled his head and gave me a death stare.

I entered the exhibit. The light from the full moon shone through the skylight and glinted off the glass cases displaying Tut’s precious artifacts. A beautiful gold bracelet with lapis lazuli stones got my attention, but I wasn’t here to admire the pieces. I was here to steal the Mighty Amulet of Aten, the sun god King Tut worshipped.

Are All First Kisses Sparks and Fireworks?

Ah, the first kiss between characters. It can be splendidly portrayed with a graphically written picture that leaves the reader no doubt as to where that kiss is leading or as simple as a quick peck on the cheek. Both can be equally important. In my current release, “Arms of an Angel”, the main character (sensual and wealthy yet still hurting Claire Orion) has gone out to indulge herself with an extravagant meal at an upscale restaurant…it is to be her last meal before she takes her own life. A mix up in last names places her at the table of a gentleman who ends up being her earthly angel. When the dinner is over, he offers her a ride home - which she accepts. She tries to lure him into joining her for coffee at her place – which he does not. He does, however, sense he will never see her again and Claire is concerned he somehow knows what she’s about to do. The following, along with that all-important first kiss, is what ensues:

“I have this overwhelming feeling that I’ll never see you again once you get out.” His brows were drawn down, his face concerned.

Claire was sure he could hear the loud thud of her heart. She felt the need to throw him off.

“Let me have your phone.” She held out her hand and he produced it with out question. She stared at it for a moment then keyed in her number. “There.” She handed it back.

“Thank you.” He smiled, rubbing the phone between his fingers as if it was her hand. “We’ll have that coffee… and sooner than you think.

“Would we have had coffee, Dr. O’Bryan?” she asked, kissing his cheek and bolting from the car before he had time to recover.

When she waved and smiled mischievously from the lobby doorway he shook his head and laughed. The thought of her would not easily be shaken, he was sure of that.

“You’re home early, Ms. Orion,” Garrett heard the doorman saying to her as he pushed the button that rolled down the window. “And alone! You ruffled somebody’s feathers again, girl?”

Claire started to respond but was cut off by Garrett’s voice calling her name. She turned toward him and he was struck momentarily silent by her beauty. Uncertain of his intent, she walked back to the car and looked through the open window.

“Change your mind?” she teased. “No, I suppose Morgan’s Falls still has you bound. What then?”
“Sunday brunch? 10:00ish? And we’ll have that coffee then. Scouts honor.” He held up two fingers.

“Wouldn’t you know. Friday night and I get stuck with a parent whipped boy scout.” She laughed, letting him know she was still teasing. “Make it 10:30 and I’ll accept with expectation.”

Garrett nodded. “Claire,” he called as she began to back away. “You are a woman of your word, right?” When she didn’t respond he added, “You seem as though you would be.”

Claire breathed in and held it for a moment as she looked into the distance. The night had not gone as she’d planned. Now she was being asked for her word. Yes, she was a woman of her word…most of the time, and especially when pressed. Why was he asking? Did he inherently know? If she said yes, under the circumstances, was she bound by her word? Yes, she supposed she was. At last she nodded. “My yes is yes. I’ll be waiting and watching. 10:30 sharp on Sunday morning.”

Garrett smiled. “Thank you.”

“You may change your mind. You don’t really know me.” She pushed away from the car with a laugh.

He shook his head. No, he didn’t know her at all. He’d lived enough of life, however, to believe their paths must have crossed that evening for a definite reason. He wondered if he’d ever find out why.

“You losin’ your touch, Miss?” Garrett heard the doorman teasing her again.

“Nah, Charlie. I got lucky in a different way tonight.” She elbowed the older gentleman. “I found me an angel. What was his name? Clarence maybe? Oh listen… I think I hear a bell ringing.”

He heard the doorman chuckle as Claire disappeared behind the heavy wood and beveled glass doors of the grand building.

“Not an angel with these thoughts!” he whispered as he drove away.

My first kiss from my future husband was shared over a cup of hot chocolate after a very cold walk. It was maybe just a little better than a peck on the cheek, though, since we were sitting in front of his mother’s fireplace…I’m pretty sure we’d have just had coffee!!! (Please tell me you caught that in the excerpt?!!!). It was nice even though it didn't make my toes curl or lights shoot through the sky and, since I ended up marrying the guy, I'd definitely say it was just as important. Want to share a bit about your first kiss from your special someone??? I know I’d love to hear about it…

Website: LindaBoulanger.com

Blog: Writer's Shelf Life

FaceBook: The Shelf Life Of Linda Boulanger

Sherry Gloag asks 'Do you remember your first kiss?'

Do you remember your first kiss? 

On January 10^th 2011 The Guardian.co.uk posted an article asking that question.

They say that according to Sheril Kirshenbaum, a scientist at the University of Texas, a first kiss is likely to be one of your most vivid memories.

Sadly I must be an exception, or else the kiss was so unmemorable it never rated even the vaguest memory! As an author of romance that’s a shameful admission, <grin> but true.

   

As an author of romance I wish I’d written Judy Garland’s line of 1939 "Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul." This so represents what I search for when writing.

In my short Valentine novella, The Wrong Target, published by eTreasures as part of the Cupid’s Gone Wild anthology  available at http://www.etreasurespublishing.com/  and http://tinyurl.com/6ys4h6a there is explosive emotion between Tina and Ryan but their first kiss does not come until near the end of the story. 

It may have resulted from a challenge from my heroine to my hero, but indeed, that kiss reached their souls and sealed their future.

BLURB:

Headmistress Tina Blackberry and business tycoon Ryan Thomas can't control events after Ryan's daughter steals his coveted golden arrow and takes it to school, But put Cupid on the job and nothing can go wrong, or can it?

Excerpt:

“Goddamit,” he exploded, “Can’t you stand still for one second? I have something to say, but I can’t while you’re jogging round the room.”

She halted toe to toe in front of him. “You have me dismissed from a job I loved, because I upheld the safety of my pupils, and still have the audacity to stalk me to my holiday destination and demand I listen to you because you have something to say?” Flapping her hands at her sides, she spun away and back again, planting her hands on the chair arms, she pinned him in his place and snarled, “Let me tell you something. I’ve come here to enjoy myself and your presence isn’t part of my plan.”

“What is your plan?” he demanded.

“To get laid!”  Astonishment pushed her away from the chair, her eyes wide, her lips curved up in a defiant sneer. “I intend to find myself a man and screw the living daylights out of him. And,” she paused deliberately, “I don’t need you for that.”

You can find more information about Sherry's other books at  her website: www.sherrygloag.com and

her blog: http://tinyurl.com/68oomm6

We're all just frogs dreaming of that perfect Princely first kiss!

Happy Valentine's Day!
The 25th anniversary of my first kiss with my husband is coming up in a couple weeks.  I announced this momentous fact to my teen aged children last night and they were..underwhelmed.  It didn't surprise me that the Boy wasn't impressed.  He's 17, and anything to do with his parents is something to be ignored.  But I thought for sure the Girl, who is newly 14 and a complete romantic, would be impressed.

"You're not going to announce every little anniversary of every little thing are you?"  she asked with that expression only 14 year old girls have perfected.

No, I'm not a sentimental person.  I remember birthdays, some wedding anniversaries, but mostly I'm not one to get misty over the little moments we have.  Except, a first kiss, especially the first kiss with someone who winds up being your "Happily ever after" isn't a little moment, is it?  First kisses mean everything!

When we were little, we were all princesses.  We were all going to kiss a frog and out would pop a prince and we'd be even better princesses.  When we were little we knew that first kiss was everything.  And most of us hadn't even had a kiss yet.

But we are grown ups, and this is real life.  Most of us are not princesses.  We still read still read romance novels, but I think we dream of a different sort of first kiss, don't we?  We dream of a prince kissing us, taking us away from our hum drum lives and making us all ...say it with me...princesses!

When I wrote Dream in Color, it wasn't hard to feel that first kiss between Ramona, my every day woman who'd been hurt by love and bored by life, and Jesse, the rock star she idolized.  It wasn't hard, because I, like everyone I know, have had this little fantasy before:

            She stood up and walked several paces away from him, tracing the outdated wallpaper with one trembling finger.  Turning her back to him, Ramona bowed her head to hide the conflict she knew played on her face.  Jesse wants me to write music for him, he sees something special in what I do.  Is this the way my dream is going to come true? She looked back around at him.  “Let me understand this.  You want me to help you write some songs?”

            “Not some songs.  All of them, an album.”  He leaned against the piano, his eyes glowing.  “I think you’re brilliant.”

            “Me?”  She let out a nervous giggle.   “I’m hardly brilliant.  What I do, that’s not anything.  Just adding to something that’s already been written.”

            His stride toward her was strong, purposeful.  So close, he towered over her, his intensity haloing a tangible aura around him.  “You have no idea about yourself, do you?”  He leaned in and captured her stunned lips with his own.

            The floor spun beneath her and Ramona gripped Jesse’s shoulders for balance, welcoming the steadying strength of his arms around her.  His kiss was like liquor, heating her from the inside out until she glowed.  His hands massaged her back, relaxing her, molding her close against him.

            Confident on her feet, Ramona released her death grip on his shoulders and let her hand follow his collarbone to his chest where she found his heart beating a strong, undeniable rhythm.  Her fingers twined past the denim shirt to his bare skin. The contact sent electricity through both of them, the current snapping them apart for one quick, breathless heartbeat.   

            In that moment, Ramona let go of her heart and dove into the depths of the desire she saw in his eyes.  She laid her hand flat against his chest, reveling in the deep breath he took as he tossed his hair back before pulling her in again.  His full weight leaned into her; only the wall kept the two of them upright.

             I’m kissing Jesse, and he’s not pushing me away.

            Holy cow, I’m kissing Jesse.

            Her eyes flew open at the realization of just what she was doing. He pulled her closer, lacing his fingers in her hair.  Still shaken but emboldened by his continued advances, Ramona closed her eyes and drank in his scent.  As with their music, their caresses flowed together with the perfectly timed give and take of a complicated musical score. Powered by a secret, primal pulse, she stood on the balls of her feet, straining to be closer to him, her body pleading to meld together with his just as her heart had. 

Whew!  Got a favorite first kiss?  Got a favorite fantasy first kiss?   Hop on over to my website, I would LOVE to hear from you! Would you just like to laugh?  Then take a look at my froggy little life here.

Sarah J. Bradley is lifelong Upper Midwest girl who lives with her college sweetheart husband and her two children in Waukesha, Wisconsin. When not writing or volunteering at her church, Sarah's passions include following her children's sports teams around the county, cheering for the Green Bay Packers and the Detroit Redwings, and, of course, listening to Rick Springfield music.

A First Kiss by Clare Austin

A first kiss.

Hot Flash by Clare Austin

The hero in my novel Hot Flash is Bran Sullivan. He’s Irish, wears his emotions shamelessly and is demonstrably affectionate to family and friends. He’s often inclined to give a hug and kiss on the cheek. He’s a man who loves being in love.

Kate, whom Bran insists on calling Katie, is facing her fiftieth birthday, suffering hormonal hot flashes and has recently been ingloriously dumped by her philandering husband. To discourage her mother from “fixing her up” with a distant cousin, Kate lies and claims she is engaged to Bran Sullivan, her riding instructor.

But when she is caught in her deception and must confess to Bran to get his cooperation, he takes the opportunity to “seal it with a kiss.”

Excerpt from Hot Flash by Clare Austin, The Wild Rose Press

“Katie, if it will make you happy, I’d be honored, but I think we need to seal the deal.” He pulled her to him, encircled her slender waist with one arm and slipped his other hand into her hair at the back of her neck, coaxing her to look up at him. “You asked me to do this last night…I told you I wanted you sober. Are you sober, Katie?”

“As a judge.” But she couldn’t breathe, her heart failed to pump enough blood to her brain and a sensation of heat that started at the place where his hand touched her back spread to her neck, trickled down her spine, across her belly and landed, softly, low in the cradle of her pelvis. She was certain that the source of this heat had nothing to do with waning hormones.

“Do something for me, Katie.” His breath came in soft gasps against her ear. “Believe, even if it’s only for now, when I tell you that you are the most beautiful woman who walks the earth.” He brushed her lips with his. “Believe me,” he whispered and kissed her again, his mouth soft, warm, moist and wanting.

And for that moment Kate did believe, while he tasted her, teased her with his tongue and lips. Kate Aiello, for the first time in half a century, made the conscious decision to believe that she was, for this unequivocal moment, the most beautiful woman on the planet.

Hot Flash is available in paperback and electronic formats from major book sellers and from The Wild Rose Press. Please go to my website for more excerpts and information about my other novels. http://www.clareaustin.com/  or my blog http://www.clareaustin.wordpress.com/  

That First Kiss by Gina Ardito

It can be magical. It can be sweet. It can be disastrous. But when that first kiss happens, it's always memorable. Men don't always get how important that first kiss is for a woman. Which is probably why I spend so much time crafting my first kiss scenes in my books. For example, the first kiss between my hero and heroine in my upcoming release from Avalon Books, Nobody's Darling, occurs over a game of Parcheesi with a glass of wine. Take a peek:

“Boys will be boys.”

By God, he was no boy, and he wouldn’t allow her to mistake him for one. For the rest of this game, he planned to use every trick in his arsenal to fluster her and keep that blush burning in her cheeks.

He began slowly. A long sip of red wine while his eyes focused unblinking on her lips the entire time. When he gave her a slow wink over the tip of the glass, her blush deepened and spread to both ears. Ah, sweet victory.

Hiding a smile, he picked up his cup of dice and rolled them onto the board. A three and a four. He licked his fingertip and traced it along his lower lip before moving one of his men the requisite seven steps.

The blush moved across the bridge of her nose, to the very place his lips had touched only seconds ago. Satisfied, he picked up his dice to return them to his cup, but accidentally brushed against her wrist as she reached for her own cup. At the simple contact, her mouth opened in a wide o. He couldn’t stop the idea that came to mind.

One quick sip of wine, and he pressed his mouth against hers, transferring the warm, spicy liquid into her mouth. She yanked away from him so quickly the game pieces scattered across the board and onto the floor. While he bit back his laughter, she stared at him aghast, her eyes tearing.

“Swallow it, silly,” he ordered.

Her neck bobbed when she did as he instructed.

“It’s good, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, doe eyes fixed on him in wonder.

“There, see? I told you that you didn’t know the proper way to drink red wine.”

She gave no reply. She merely sat across from him, her hand holding an empty dice cup, transfixed.

The moment Jeff’s lips closed over hers, a whoosh roared through April’s ears. Then a sweet pungent liquid filled her mouth. Blood? No. As the liquid danced and fizzled over her tastebuds, she realized he’d transferred the wine in his mouth to hers. The idea left her breathless.

As awareness filtered into her senses, panic seized her, and she pushed away with all the force her limp body could muster. She wanted to gasp, but the wine inside her cheeks prevented her from forming a sound.

“Swallow it, silly,” he’d said and so she had.

Unlike the sweet White Zinfandel April normally sipped, this wine had a stronger aftertaste and a thicker consistency. But she couldn’t deny she liked the taste. Or did Jeff’s bizarre method of exchanging the beverage add to the flavor? No answer came to her.

Confusion muddled her thoughts. All she wanted now was escape, a quick retreat before she surrendered.

“Excuse me,” she murmured and fled the room.