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Provoking What? Book Blitz

“There’s a distress call.” Odium notified his leader and the rest of the team. “It originates from a ship approaching the border.”
Based on its shape, it was a freighter. He shared its location on the main viewscreen. The two vessels following it were shaped like warships.
If the situation was hostile, and there was a 97.1256 percent probability the situation was unfriendly, everyone on board the freighter was in danger, was at risk of being blown out of space.
The beings required assistance…as he had once needed, and they were calling for help, not caring where that help came from.
Odium wanted to provide that aid.
But that wasn’t his decision. He waited for his leader’s orders.
“Play the communication.” She requested more information.
He complied with her command.
“If anyone out there can hear us, we need help. Desperately.” The most-alluring voice he’d ever heard in his long, death-filled life filled the bridge.
His circuits surged with energy. His body hardened. All his systems came online.
“Mine.” He punctuated that declaration with a long, low growl.
The being requesting help was his female, was the one soul in the universe he was destined to find, to claim, to spend forever safeguarding.
“Ours.” His leader whispered that word, acknowledging the connection. She had the ability to determine a cyborg’s genetic match based on their voice.
The unknown female was his. He had zero doubt about that.
“I have a freighter filled with evacuees from Praecipua Trois.” Odium’s female spoke quickly.
The panic in her husky tones pulled at his heart. He folded his fingers into tight fists. Every nanocybotic, every cell in his half-mechanical, half-organic form screamed to go to her, protect her.
“The Humanoid Alliance sent warships after us.” Each word she uttered escalated his sense of urgency. “Our guns are useless. Our shields are insufficient. We can’t shake them.”
“She is mine.” And she was in danger. “I have to save her.”

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Ooh Charm Me! Book Blitz

Warlord Tane, Miami Event Center, ‘The Bachelor Ball’

“I do not know how much longer I can endure.” I whispered the confession to Bahre where we stood in front of the raised dais. The fucker’s response was to laugh at me.
I discreetly elbowed him in his ribs, then turned to face the forty-seventh female being introduced to me.
“Warlord Tane, may I present…” Chet Bosworth, with his overly large teeth and puffed hair paused to look at the card he held in his hand. “Celine Legrand from Canada.”
“A pleasure,” I repeated, for the forty-seventh time. Leaning over, as I’d been instructed by Bahre’s beautiful mate, Quinn, I dutifully took the female’s small hand in mine and bowed at the waist. I believed the act was a waste of time. I knew, even before she had approached, that she was not mine. My beast knew as well. I had walked the room earlier, passed by the females as the lined up wearing their fine gowns, eager to enter and meet the beasts.
None of the female’s present was my mate. I already knew this truth and yet, I had to endure several more hours of Chet Bosworth and his pontificating nonsense.
My beast and I were losing patience.
As if on cue, Chet’s conspiratorial whisper carried to both me and the young Celine. “Hold your breath, people, as the alien, Warlord Tane, meets the next gorgeous woman in attendance. Celine Legrand traveled all the way from Gatineau, Quebec, Canada, more than sixteen hundred miles, for a chance to win this Atlan beast’s battle weary heart.”
The young woman blushed at Chet’s words. I released her with a gentle shake of my head. I did not need to tell these females they were not mine.
If this woman were mine, she would already be in my arms. More like, over my shoulder so I could carry her somewhere private and pleasure her properly.
Without a live television audience.
The young lady took a step back and then hurried away.
“Another strike out!” Chet smiled directly into the camera and winked at the lens. “That’s forty-seven in a row, my friends. Is true love in the air tonight? Will one of these women be the answer to a broken-hearted beast’s most fervent wish? Or will this lonely beast, this wounded veteran, who has already been rejected by his own people, be doomed to face the executioner?”

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Let’s have a fight: Book Review

MackTourBanner 1 e1632325037645 - Let's have a fight: Book Review
Whilst I really like this series, I just wish that the books were longer.

As the series has developed the books have become shorter, and whilst I realise that they were originally (perhaps) and certainly now, aimed at a much younger audience, and the concept is that they don’t like to read long stories, I would take issue with that. After all, Harry Potter books are long. And 12 year olds and younger read them. So why assume the stories need to be short – and thus missing a great deal of possible character and storyline development.

And this is where I think this book lacks something.

The characters have been established, and the drawings are stunning so you can imagine the characters in their full glory – though I do think the costume on our heroine lacks a bit – of material – to protect her skin. Despite the dragon scales, it would  be nice for more leather on her legs surely?

But the end of the story seems a bit like -with one leap they were free’. As though Christine couldn’t think of what to say. Perhaps the series has run out of steam?  I shall read to the end of the series, just because, but I am not giving 5, nor even 4 for this series now, it is down to 3 and if I hadn’t been a loyal reader …

Sorry Christine. But I can give you a star for the artwork.  

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Excerpts: A Christmas to Die For

#1

For some reason—probably because I’m drunk—I feel more alone tonight than I have in a long time. I worry that maybe I won’t bounce back as easily as I have before.

When am I going to feel secure? Safe?

“Ru …” I whine, moving back to the front of my imaginary friend and staring at his bright red nose. This has to be the most ridiculous thing in the world, but I still grab some of his fur in the front and tug. “Come down here.”

My six-foot two stature isn’t tall enough for my new fake, furry friend, but I need a hug. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I felt like I needed this, or the last time I had a hug. How sad is that?

Given this isn’t real, Rudolph is surprisingly stubborn. In fact, I have to use every bit of strength I have to get his large face to come near me, and I get the distinct impression he’s not happy. But I don’t care. He’s from my imagination, and I need a damn hug.

I wrap my arms around his too-wide neck and attempt to pull myself together, finding a comfort there that would likely get me put in a mental institution for life.

Whooshing noises sound around us, but I barely hear it over my deep breathing.

Why do I feel like crying? Men don’t cry. Well, not unless they have just thrown their guts up over their naked body from stage fright after attempting a career as a cam boy. I gave myself a pass that day.

But, even though I’m in complete denial about crying, tears wet my face as I give in to the feeling of despair and loneliness. Why do I have to be such a fuckup? Why does everything and everyone I touch turn to shit?

Heat overwhelms me, soaking away the cold that crept into my body after lying on the icy ground, and though the breeze is chilly and promising a future snowstorm, I suddenly have the urge to take off my jacket.

“You’re like a furnace,” I grumble at Rudolph, not removing my grip.

For some unlikely reason, this hug with my fake reindeer is the best thing to happen to me since the two weeks I was able to get a signal on my TV at home and could stream unlimited shows for that entire fortnight. I’m not ready to give it up yet, even if I’m probably just hugging a tree while picturing my fake reindeer.

I keep my eyes closed, my breathing finally calming down, when I notice something moving against me—perhaps Rudolph trying to shake me off. Either way, at the feel of something hard against the entire length of my body, I open one eye to find I’m no longer hugging a supersized reindeer.

Huh?

I’m hugging a man!

“Shit!” I gasp, dropping my hands from around the neck of a strange man who must be over eight feet tall, given he still has to bend over for me to hug him. Then I promptly fall on my ass, not feeling the impact since I’m still in shock.

I wipe my eyes, first to get the wetness out of them, and then because what I’m seeing can’t be real.

At first, all I notice is that every bit of hair on this giant’s head is white, and he has a lot of hair—a mane on his head and a crazy huge beard any biker would be proud of. It’s so odd to see such prominent white hair on a man who looks my age, because this giant is not old, even given the wizened color of his hair. No, I would put money that he isn’t older than thirty. In fact, every person here has the same stark white hair as my Rudolph, though they all look similar in age to him.

That’s odd, right?

Okay, scratch that, the weird part is clearly the changing from animal to human. Not the hair situation. Still …

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#2

Unfortunately, just a few feet from reaching what I hope will be freedom, several arrows—which look to be on fire!—shoot down from the sky. They miss me, but most become embedded against the walls and roof of my house.

I have one moment to wonder what the hell they are before the building explodes.

An invisible, heated shockwave hits me, taking me off my feet and pushing me backward. I slam into a tree trunk and crack my head, giving me an instant headache.

Arms wrap around me, gripping tight enough to cut off my breathing, and my view of my exploding home instantly changes to the tree line surrounding my property as I’m shuffled away from the wreckage.

I look up to find Rudolph holding me. So … not a tree, then.

Then I realize he’s still naked!

This can’t be happening.

He shields me from the debris flying through the air; all my worldly possessions becoming nothing more than burning embers and rubble.

“No!” I groan while the pounding in my head worsens.

I need to wake up. I need to get away.

A growl has me looking back up at Rudolph, the vibration of it rumbling through my own body while I’m still tightly held against him. He turns us back to the crater that used to have my house sitting there.

Rudolph’s gaze is fierce, and I notice the men and women from before are turning back into reindeer. As in, their bodies are changing shape until they are no longer human!

What the fuck?

“Ru?” I gasp, my entire world now shaken to its core.

I barely have time to process that everything I owned, everything I have collected over the years, is now gone before someone lands over the rubble. In fact, many beings land. Dozens of them.

Somewhat belatedly, under the light of the moonlit clouds and glowing embers that used to be my house, I register that these beings barely look human. Their ears are pointed, their teeth sharp as they hiss at us, and their eyes are black. The clothes they wear are a dull green, and they each have dozens of arrows and spears at their backs in a pouch. Actually, some of them already have arrows and spears in hand, moving their arms back in the same way a javelin thrower might.

Are these the elves Rudolph mentioned earlier?

Okay, reindeer and elves? This has to be some sort of cosmic joke on me. Then again, the destruction of my house is no joke. And the deadly intent on the elves’ faces, as they look to be preparing an attack, is definitely no joke.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m screwed. And crazy.

Can’t forget the crazy part.

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#3

“So, you like the milk, but what about the cookie?” He slides a plate that has sat off to the side of us the entire meal. On it is a large, round object with dark spots. My human called it a chocolate chip cookie when he asked for it. It’s large enough to take up the entire plate.

“You expect me to eat that?” I can’t even muster up any sort of enthusiasm for it. It looks like hard dirt with specks of dark mud in it.

“Yep, but only after you get a refill. The best way to eat a cookie is to dunk it in milk.”

I eye the cookie again, wondering why I’m even considering putting myself through all of this for my human.

“Are you sure this is important? We could be back in the hotel room …” I remind him, hoping the nudge will push him in the right direction, which would be any direction away from this cookie at this point.

Unfortunately, a waitress refills my glass, and then my human rips off a small chunk from the cookie.

“Please?”

I’m the Santa of Christmas, the highest rank in our military, the wartime leader of my people, and one of the most feared foes of the elves, yet here I am, succumbing to my human, who is force-feeding me rubbish.

What have I become?

Scrounging together whatever bravery and fearlessness I hold during battles, I take the offered poison and dunk it in the milk. Then I close my eyes as I shove the entire thing in my mouth.

I consider just swallowing it whole, figuring my body can save me from the taste, but already my body heat helps to melt whatever ingredients are in this cookie so it crumbles into my mouth.

And … I have to say, it’s not that bad.

AUTHOR BIO:

Jessica lives in Adelaide, South Australia. When she is not writing, you can find her reading, napping or watching excessive amounts of TV. Connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.

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Author links:
http://jessicafrancesauthor.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/JessicaFrancesAuthor/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7236316.Jessica_Frances

https://www.instagram.com/jessica_frances_author/

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Adding it all up

This was disappointing. I had read the previous books in the series but found this one just too difficult to read. It didn’t work for me from the starting chapter onwards. And in my opinion doesn’t work as a standalone novel as it relies too much on the previous books and the reader having knowledge from them.

sum - Adding it all up

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