A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE BOOK TRAILER

A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE by Victoria Vane

(The Devil DeVere Book #1)

ON SALE FOR $.99 UNTIL JULY 11!

http://www.breathlesspress.com/wild-nights-bride

Excerpt: St. James, Westminster – 1783

"Ned, you must wake up." The frantic whisper and tickle of silky hair pleasantly penetrated the periphery of Sir Edward Chambers' drink-induced, sexually sated, and fog-enshrouded consciousness. "Come, Neddie," the soft voice implored. "You must wake, or there will be the devil to pay."

He groaned, rolling onto his side to the simultaneous awareness of a pounding head and the soft, warm presence beside him. He groped blindly, defining a shapely feminine backside that tauntingly wriggled against his groin, stirring quite another part of him to a wakeful and throbbing state. He nuzzled her neck while his burgeoning erection sought the warmth betwixt her thighs. "Annalee, my sweet Annalee," he murmured into her hair.

The warm, welcoming body became cold stone. "Phoebe," a voice intoned.

Ned's bleary eyes popped open, his attention immediately riveted to the massive bed, the heavy velvet curtains of rich crimson and gold, and the towering hand-carved posts of mahogany. He jerked upright as if doused with ice water, his gaze settling on the voluptuous, blue-eyed blonde lying amidst the tangle of luxurious linens. "Kitty?"

"No. Phoebe," she answered. "My name. It's Phoe-be."

"Phoebe?" He frowned in puzzlement. His gaze darted from his thoroughly tumbled bedfellow to the opulent room. He frantically scrubbed his face and looked wildly about the room, eager to light upon something, anything, to assure himself he wasn't going mad. The vision of his surroundings sent him scrambling to his knees, entangling him in the bed sheets, and tumbling him to the floor. Lying stunned on the thick Turkish carpet, his confused conscience absorbed the soaring twenty-foot shadow-boxed ceiling depicting classical heroes.

"Kitty, Phoebe, or whoever-the-devil-you-are," he spoke through clenched teeth. "This isn't Carlton House, is it?"

"No."

His heart beating apace, Ned willed himself first to breathe and then to modulate a tone verging on panic. "I was with DeVere last night. Where is DeVere?"

"DeVere is locked safely in the linen closet." She hugged her breasts, her expression suddenly wary. "Don't you remember anything?"

He vigorously shook his pounding head only to bring forth a chaotic kaleidoscope of last night's events, and the impossible truth persisted to push its way to the surface.

His gaze glued to the bed, Ned made a mechanical backward retreat to the center of the room where he had a clearer prospect of its crowning glory. His vision rose to the top of the headboard, to the heraldic shield seated betwixt the carved figures of a lion and a unicorn. His gaze slid with dread to the engraved scroll beneath. Dieu Et Mon Droit. God and my right, the motto of the king. His chest seized. The room began to spin. He looked to Phoebe, aware that the blood was draining from his face, and that his voice emerged as a strangled sound. "May the same God save me...for I'm going to be hung, drawn, and quartered for spending last night rutting in the King of England's bed!"

http://authorvictoriavane.com

Don't Give Up, Said Mom

Christina Black squirmed. Sweat dripped down her face and it wasn’t from the South Florida sunshine. Her mother's hair was gone. There were five or six bottles of pain killers lined up on the kitchen counter.

"Christina, where are you?" Mrs. Black called. "I want you to sit and read to me honey."

Christina's green eyes watered and she pushed back her black bangs. They stuck up slightly from all the sweat. "I'll be right in," she shouted. Her voice cracked a little. She grabbed her mother's pain pills and placed them on a tray with some toast. "Okay mom, I'm ready," Christina said.

She peered around the door to see her mother's head wrapped in a handkerchief. Her mom was so skinny and frail. A big lump clogged Christina's throat. There was saliva stuck in the corners of her mother’s mouth making her look half alive. Slowly Mrs.Black's eyes fluttered closed.

Christina put the tray down on the end table and crept out the front door. She raced towards her favorite spot. It was at the end of the street on a private boating dock. She collapsed onto the dock and burst into tears. Her mom couldn't have cancer. She was only thirteen. What would she do without her mother?

Blind Heat Game and Giveaway Part 2 (adult)

Welcome to a some cool fun for a hot Sunday. To celebrate the release of Blind Heat, the second book in my Pantherian Passions series, I've set up a little game related to the story.

Our hero, Marcus St. Germaine has a habit he hasn't been able to kick. At the start of Blind Heat he gives into temptation and this time it gets him into trouble. I'll be sharing the first chapter in blog posts throughout the day. At the end of each post, I'll show you a picture and tell you the name of the blog where it's hidden. Simply email Master Bond ( the kinky French Chef from The Dungeon Gourmet) lemarquis.debond on gmail.com telling him where you found the picture. For every correct answer you send in, you'll get your name in the hat. The prize is your choice of my backlist:

The Tiger's Tale (First book in the Pantherian Passions Series)
The Dungeon Gourmet
Snatch Me

I'll announce the winner Monday morning on the Words, Women, Wisdom blog.
 Happy Hunting and good luck. I'll be checking back throughout the day, so if you have questions, leave them in the comments and I'll be along shortly with an answer.

Blind Heat: Excerpt 2

 His hold on the mental shield weakened. He couldn’t let her in. Hard as it was to ignore the cry for help, he couldn’t stop parahuman research and rescuing hybrids from research facilities put Pantherians living among humans at risk. He’d promised to stop. Why did promises always attract a need to break them?

Stop. Think, some saner part of his mind said. But he was calculating. She couldn’t be far away. The water amplified their connection, which meant to follow it was to find her. There was a research lab in the industrial center on the other side of the park. A hybrid in the human world would be someone’s experiment. The majority of his race refused to acknowledge any sense of duty or kinship to the human-manufactured hybrids, but agony wasn’t something he could walk away from.

The stream ran in that direction. Predawn, the lab would likely be empty.

Again he turned to the water to regain focus, stared into his reflection, the leopard’s eyes—a feral gleam startled him. Something wild and untamed stared back at him from the depths, dared him to take up the challenge, reach for and protect the female.

Her pain pulsed in the air around him, sent ripples ringing outward through his reflection, breaking the features apart until the leopard vanished. In the time it might take any observer to blink and rub his eyes, Pantherian Marcus St. Germain reappeared in his human form. He remained still, head tipped to the sky, allowing his mind to adjust to the change in form. Snowflakes went liquid against his cheeks, gathered in his lashes, dusted his naked body.

He forced his mind to the now, to the danger ahead, into the peace and calm required to take on the task. He welcomed the numbing cold, the clarity that came with it. His night vision just as strong in his human form, his gaze returned the reflection, his mind to that between state, both inside and outside his body. Snow curled in a spiral around his human form, his body still young and vibrating with primal energy, despite the fact he’d roamed this earth for more centuries than he could say. Snow dusted thick, dark hair. Predawn light had filtered in just enough to paint his body in silver and black shadows. He studied his frame against the surrounding, black-and-white leopard fading into the backdrop of snow and the dense shadow of woodlands.

Something else shimmered in the air, lighter, fainter than the hybrid’s pull. Something that felt like a promise, hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Find Hella's Baby at PassionateReads.com

A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE (The Devil DeVere book #1)

A WORD ABOUT THE DEVIL DEVERE:
I think every writer dreams of creating characters who are larger than life, those so strong and intriguing that they can carry an entire series, even if not the primary focus of it. But Ludovic "the Devil DeVere" who began as a rakish sidekick, became all that and then some. I never knew when I dreamed up my "HANGOVER" inspired novella that one story would become two, and then three, and then four, all because of one character. Hence, the birth of THE DEVIL DEVERE series, four scorching hot intertwined Georgian era romance novellas involving six main characters all connected through the devious Ludovic, Viscount DeVere.

My series begins with A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE, a racy rollicking adventure that pairs Phoebe Scott, a struggling actress with Sir Edward "Ned" Chambers, a grieving widower, in a madcap wager that takes some very unpredictable turns!

Book I – A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE (on sale for $.99 until July 11)

BLURB: What happens when a struggling actress and a grieving widower come together in a night of unbridled debauchery orchestrated by a bored and machinating rake? With the devil in charge — there will surely be hell to pay!

WITH THE DEVIL IN CHARGE...THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY... What happens when a struggling actress and a grieving widower come together in a night of unbridled debauchery orchestrated by a bored and machinating rake?

She’s a lonely lady down on her luck...  Phoebe Scott, alias Kitty Willis, is a struggling Covent Garden actress with a bruised heart and a closely guarded secret.

He’s steadfast and eminently respectable...Sir Edward Chambers, Ned to his intimates, is guilt-ridden over his beloved wife’s death and avowed to live out a rustic and mundane life … of celibacy.

But With the devil in charge — there will surely be hell to pay.
Devil in disguise, Viscount Ludovic DeVere, is determined to return his best friend, Ned, to the land of the living. His meddling machinations result in a night of mind blowing passion after which “dull dog Ned” awakes to find himself in the King of England’s bed!

A WILD NIGHT’S BRIDE, a sexy, rollicking Georgian romp!

LINK TO GOODREADS REVIEWS (67 ratings averaging 4.2 STARS)

One of my favorite scenes:

DeVere, on the other hand, evinced no such qualms. He had already loosened his cravat and was stripping off his coat.
"As I said earlier, there is no need," Phoebe insisted. "A couple of buttons and a raised petticoat are all the business requires."
"How delightfully unromantic you are, my dear!" He chuckled. "But while most men would be charmed to comply with your simple wishes, I have quite another game in mind. One that most definitely requires you to disrobe."
"But what if I don't want to?"
"Oh but you will," he said with a smug smile.
She glared. "You are very sure of yourself!"
He studied his buffed fingernails. "I am sure of Ned. Thus, we must put on a convincing show."
Her brows came together in a deep scowl. "What do you mean? What has Ned to do with this?"
"Everything. And at any moment, I expect him to burst through that door like a raging bull."

Longer excerpt and buy link : http://www.breathlesspress.com/wild-nights-bride

MORE EXCERPTS at: http://authorvictoriavane.com

All four digital titles in this series will be released between now and late August .

Trade paperback will follow.

Zombies versus Robots -- ULTIMATE SHOW DOWN! Giveaway!

Zombies vs. Robots

I was originally just going to do an excerpt, but then this thought occurred to me. A random thought really. It was while I was talking with my sister and best friend at dinner, before we headed to the movies. Of course they thought I was absolutely insane, but I think it’s a logical and very feasible theory. Zombies versus Robots. Which apocalypse will happen? Will the undead rise up or will robots over throw us?

I’ve begun to wonder if the zombie apocalypse is indeed on its way. Perhaps not the dead clawing their way from their graves, but a virus-based zombie. And it’s all beginning in the south, the wonderful sunshine state of Florida. There have been two cases of human consumption, all based off of “bath salt” drug-induced delirium. Coincidence? I think not!

(Government conspiracy)

 Or it’s just my over active imagination running ramped. I have begun the starting process of editing a new manuscript for a zombie apocalypse novel (release TBA).  So maybe my mind is just a little zombie-crazy right now.

Maybe it won’t even be zombies. We’ve begun to rely heavily on technology. You can’t turn anywhere without seeing at least one person on their phone.

A zombie vs. robot showdown?

I’m for the zombies. I think they’d be harder to destroy. With robots we can just call on Will Smith and Bruce Willis.

Really, I’m probably just crazy and this is the random driveling of a writer who’s spent way too much time in the fantasy world. But still, it would be interesting to see everyone weigh in. How do you think (maybe prefer?) to see the apocalypse go down? Does everyone have their zombie survival plan in order? Weapons preset? Gear ready? Everyone brushing up on their hacker skills and mapping out escape routes?

You might want to double check your iPhone, you never know what Siri might be up to.

I really need to stop writing end of the world scenarios. You can check out some of them in my series the Theo Bourne Series.

Lay on me your survival plans and theories and enter in for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card. Just drop your e-mail down with survival plan/theory and I'll select a winner Monday the 9th. 

EXCERPT FROM THE HUNTING MOON

His eyes were just dark enough to be called mysterious, and by the way his long black hair fell into his face, obscuring it in sultry shadows, I knew he was someone dangerous. He held himself above everyone else, with an almost predatory stance that sent delicious tingles up my spine. He was ensconced in the back of the club, sitting in a booth on the other side of the dance floor, watching the crowd as it bobbed and swayed to the addictive beats the DJ spun. His friends had abandoned him two songs earlier, and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to join them.
I had been watching him half the night from the corner of my eye. He seemed to dominate the club with his presence, and I knew I wasn’t the only one watching him. I also knew that I was going to be the one to get him tonight.
Some people call it gaydar, though I don’t believe in that -- I just call it good instincts. It also helped that he had been watching me under the veil of his long lashes.
I wasn’t looking for love -- hell, I don’t believe in love. I believe in quick fucks and one-night stands. And tonight he was going to be my conquest. From the way his glare met my stare, I knew I was going to be his too. I took a long swig of my beer, numbing my tongue just a little more. I was working on my third bottle, and tonight I had no plans of slowing down. If I was going to be back in the shit hole known as Columbus, Ohio, then I was going to be drunk facing it. I had left Columbus in pursuit of a career with the NYPD Preternatural Task Force. I had succeeded until six months ago, when my partner was killed on the job by a deranged lycanthrope. Now, after seven years of avoiding this place, I was back.
And this dark Adonis was going to make me forget why I had returned. I finished the last of my beer and set the empty bottle on top of the bar. He tipped his head to the side, his hair spilling back to reveal the sharp contours and angles of his face. His skin, when the light played across it, was a rich burnt caramel that left my mouth watering. The gray graphic tee he had on was straining against the hard muscles of his chest and broad shoulders.
I walked around the side of the dance floor, following the row of booths that wrapped around to the back of the club. He glanced up at me, and my fingers itched to brush away the silken tresses that fell into his long face. His full lips parted into a quick smile, and hunger churned in the pit of my stomach. This was a game I was very familiar with -- one that I was fond of.
“Hey.”
His voice was like liquid silk pouring over my skin and wrapping around my body, caressing every intimate part of me, and it held the faintest Spanish accent. My eyelids lowered in a hooded glance, and my lips twitched into a smile that was pouting and promising. I wasn’t giving him the option to back away. “Dance with me.”
Amusement lit up his dark eyes, but he didn’t protest. He stood up, towering over me by a good four inches -- and that was saying something, since I was six feet even. I slid my hand up his chest, and my fingers played over the silver designs of his graphic tee before fisting in the cotton fabric. I pulled him with me as I walked backward onto the dance floor. I didn’t look to see if people moved. I made them move, nudging them with my mind and guiding them away from the middle of the dance floor. My gaze never left his, and he didn’t seem interested in anyone around us either.
Large hands found my hips, and our bodies began to move as one, naturally. I rocked my hips into his, relaxed my grip on his shirt slightly, and coiled my other arm around his neck. His hair, which had to be well past his shoulders, spilled over and tickled the exposed skin of my arms.
The song pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t tell you what the lyrics were. I was hypnotized by his eyes; it was like staring into the eyes of a wild dog. They flashed with feral intensity, their chocolate color swirling with blinding deep golden yellow, like smoky topaz. He nudged his hips forward, rolling them so that his hard-on brushed against mine. A shock ran through me, and my breath came out in a stuttered gasp, earning a broader grin from him. He repeated the motion, and my grip grew tighter around his neck and shirt, pulling him closer to my body.
His hands spread up my back, massaging the tight muscles in my shoulders. My cock was straining in my Diesel jeans, chafing against the zipper. I let out a low growl, grinding harder against him in a vague suggestion of what was to come. He didn’t seem to need any further invitation. His mouth sealed over mine, his tongue pressing past the barrier of my lips. I opened my mouth wide, and it became all about tasting and feeling. He tasted of beer and cinnamon gum.
When I broke away for air, I met his eyes. They burned with the same hunger that I felt. I turned around before he could come in for another kiss, pressed my ass against him, and shook my hips.
He grabbed my hips again, his grip hard and demanding. I could just imagine his hands running up my body, pulling and guiding me as he drilled into me from behind. I closed my eyes with a flutter of lashes and arched, letting my hands tangle in the soft mess of his hair. It ran through my fingers smoothly, and I knew I could spend hours just stroking his hair.
“So what’s your name?” I shouted over the music.
His lips brushed my right ear, his tongue flicking out to nudge the silver hoop I had in. His hands wrapped around my waist to my stomach and traced the hard muscles of my abs through the black material of my T-shirt.
“Carlos,” he said in a low growl.
The song changed, but I didn’t know what to. All I could hear, all I could feel, was the sound of Carlos’s breathing as he tempted my body with his long fingers. I tightened my hold on his hair and pulled his head down, craning my neck so I could turn and kiss him. He rolled his hips at the gesture and eagerly sucked in my tongue.
Much more of this, and I was going to come in my jeans, right there on the dance floor. I released his hair, letting it whisper past my fingertips. With another promising smile I asked, “Your place or mine?”
He embraced me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me to secure my body. His lips branded my neck in a slow kiss, and I felt a quake run through me.
“Mine.”

 

CONTACTS:

• Website: www.evelynshepherd.com
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Evelyn-Shepherd/133411650060305
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/eveeshepherd
• Tumblr: http://evelynshepherd.tumblr.com/
  Blog: http://singleauthorseeks.blogspot.com/

BUY LINKS:

• http://www.loose-id.com/The-Hunting-Moon.aspx
• http://www.amazon.com/The-Hunting-Moon-ebook/dp/B005IYZG3E/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1341689920&sr=8-1&keywords=the+hunting+moon
• http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-hunting-moon-evelyn-shepherd/1104118339?ean=9781611184334
• http://www.loose-id.com/Event-Horizon.aspx
• http://www.amazon.com/Event-Horizon-Theo-Bourne-ebook/dp/B0071CKKFA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1341689944&sr=1-1&keywords=event+horizon
• http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/event-horizon-evelyn-shepherd/1108580796?ean=9781611187397

Blind Heat Game and Giveaway

 Welcome to a some cool fun for a hot Sunday. To celebrate the release of Blind Heat, the second book in my Pantherian Passions series, I've set up a little game related to the story.

Our hero, Marcus St. Germaine has a habit he hasn't been able to kick. At the start of Blind Heat he gives into temptation and this time it gets him into trouble. I'll be sharing the first chapter in blog posts throughout the day. At the end of each post, I'll show you a picture and tell you the name of the blog where it's hidden. Simply email Master Bond ( the kinky French Chef from The Dungeon Gourmet) lemarquis.debond on gmail.com telling him where you found the picture. For every correct answer you send in, you'll get your name in the hat. The prize is your choice of my backlist:

The Tiger's Tale (First book in the Pantherian Passions Series)
The Dungeon Gourmet
Snatch Me

I'll announce the winner Monday morning on the Words, Women, Wisdom blog.
 Happy Hunting and good luck. I'll be checking back throughout the day, so if you have questions, leave them in the comments and I'll be along shortly with an answer.

Blind Heat: Excerpt 1

A perfect blend of shadow and light rendered the snow leopard invisible as he crept sleek and silent through frosted woods. Where woods broke away to a ball field, he broke into a run, sending powdery snow up in plumes, his lean belly skimming just a feather’s breadth above the ground. Wind ruffled his fur, sang in his ears.

The forest thickened on the other side, but it was like welcoming arms closing around him, inviting a companion. He craved the comfort of a mate’s body, feminine heat and a welcoming purr. He had to settle for the feathery fingers of a fir tree sliding over his back, the cold kiss of snow on his nose and lashes.

There could never be a mate for him, no female to race under the stars at his side. He ran from his solitude, from the unique combination of gifts that set him above and apart from his own kind. Even among the males, ritual protocols of respect kept him isolated, friendless.

Closer to the water he burst through the skeletons of blackberry vines. Thorns raked his fur and pricked his skin—sent the thought of a female’s claws and teeth, the feral abandon of mating, skimming through his mind. He ran faster, as if he could outrun fate.

Solitude was a life sentence no one could change.

He splashed into the ice-fringed creek and ran downstream, letting nature’s version of a cold shower numb his hunger. As the stream bed curved sharply and opened on a woodland pool, he slowed. Something faint, desperate, nudged his attention away from himself and opened his mind to the soft stirrings and secretive rustles of life around him.

At the edge of the pool he paused, drawing cold air deep into his lungs, savoring the rush of energy that came with anticipation, using it like a drug to shove cravings that threatened to shred him into the background. His keen hearing tuned to the sound of thousands of tiny flakes touching the earth, the combined voices amplified, shifting pitch to impart a whispered warning, loud enough to prick his awareness, too soft to interpret.

He leapt to a broad rock near the pool’s center, used the steadying power of water and stone as a conduit, opened his mind further, searching for the source of anguish that nipped at his attention. Like lightning finding ground, the connection hit in a flash of white-hot pain, forcing him back to his haunches to absorb the force before he recovered and closed his mind like a curtain. He drew a cold breath and then another, tasting the first flavors of spring mingled with the late-winter snow. He should go back, keep his mind shut and walk away. There could be only one source for that kind of quick, complete connection here in the human-controlled regions of the world. A hybrid, only a research animal genetically modified with human neurons implanted in its brain, could make this sort of telepathic connection. She—the energy was unmistakably feminine—was in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hunt for Hella at Therianverse.com

Amber Lin's Giving It Up joins the party and... GIVEAWAY!

Welcome to the Goddess Fish Party Pavilion! I'm so happy to be here, because everyone loves a party and this way we all get to wear our pajamas and eat ice cream. Oh, that's just me? Okay then.

My debut book, Giving It Up, came out officially two weeks ago but just hit Amazon over the Fourth of July. Honestly, I was nervous. It's an erotic romance that deals with some dark themes. Maybe even controversial. But so far the response has been AMAZING; take a look...

“Giving It Up is original, affecting, emotionally draining, but well worth reading if you are brave enough to go along for the ride.”
—Annabel Joseph, author of Comfort Object

“A ballsy departure from romantic conventions. At once gritty and tender, stark and hopeful.”
—Cara McKenna, author of Willing Victim

“Giving It Up is an erotic, compelling story that takes us to the shadowy, lonely places but doesn’t leave us there. Amber Lin shows us that romance isn’t just for the rich and shiny. Love can find its way even into the dark corners of the most damaged hearts.”
—Tiffany Reisz, author of The Siren

“This is a book you MUST read if you like gritty, edgier romance that makes you think as well as turns you on.”
—Cari Quinn, USA Today Bestselling Author of No Dress Required

“Every page is chock full of sexy, angsty must-read-moreness.”
—Karla Doyle, author of Game Plan

“Giving It Up is a gritty, real romance that deals in an honest way with what happens to sexuality in the aftermath of rape…. Read it. You won’t be sorry.”
—Ruthie Knox, author of About Last Night

“Dark and edgy…but don’t be fooled. There’s a wonderful love story running through this book. Sharp, intense writing, sexy as hell, and such a cool idea!”
—Charlotte Stein, author of Sheltered

Hopefully you have read some of these authors (AND IF YOU HAVEN'T GO READ THEM) because they are fabulous writers and I'm so honored that they liked my book as well. Hopefully their generous words buttered you lovely readers up as we move into the book description portion of the post.

Allie prowls the club for a man who will use her hard and then ditch her. Hey, it’s not rape if she wants it. Instead she finds Colin, who looks tough but treats her tenderly, despite her protests.

He tempts her, but kindness and a few mindblowing orgasms aren’t enough to put her back together again. Allie has no hope for a real relationship. Two years ago her best friend betrayed her in the worst possible way – she’d be stupid to trust a man again. Besides, she has her daughter to think of, the only good thing to have come from that dark night.

But when her rapist returns, threatening her sanity and custody of her daughter, Allie turns to Colin. Under his protection and patient touch, Allie begins to heal and learns to hope. Colin’s no saint, though, and his criminal past draws danger of its own. Allie must fight to protect her child and the man she loves, hoping her newfound power will be enough to save them all.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: dubious consent.

So here's my question for you guys. Don't worry, I realize it's morning so I'm going to make it really easy. As Cari Quinn said, do you like gritty romance that makes you think as well as turns you on? As Annabel Joseph said, are you brave enough to go along for the ride?

If the answer is yes in the comments, you'll be entered to win a copy of Giving It Up! Good morning to you too ;-)

Book trailer and excerpt: http://givingitupbook.com/

Author website: http://authoramberlin.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/authoramberlin

Also, be sure to check out the Giving It Up release giveaway, where you can win cool prizes whether you've read Giving It Up or not!