No such thing as love…
Eddy and Henrik don’t believe in love. At least, that’s what they keep telling themselves. They’ve been burned in the past, and neither wants to be that vulnerable again.
A summer fling…
That’s all it was ever supposed to be. So why can’t they stop thinking about one another? And for Eddy–who’s moving back to America in a few weeks–the worst thing that could happen would be to fall in love with the one man who could make her question her decision.
Out of his comfort zone…
Henrik never counted on trusting love again. He’s put all his energy into his career. So why does the thought of Eddy leaving Europe for good make him want to do everything in his power to make her want to stay…?
Maybe Tomorrow is a standalone novel in the Maybe… series.
About Kim Golden
I grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and spent most of my childhood summers in Smithfield, Virginia. I’m not sure where my love of words comes from, but I’ve loved books since I was a child and I’ve loved writing stories for as long as I can remember.
My parents wanted me to do something practical–be an engineer, a doctor, a lawyer, an accountant. But I always dreamed of doing something completely different. I knew I wanted to be a writer, even if it took a bit of time for me to get to that point.
It led me to spend more time writing stories than studying physics and chemistry in high school. It’s what led me study literature and then work on an MFA in Creative Writing at Virginia Commonwealth University. And when I finished my master’s degree, love led me away from the US and brought me to Sweden.
So what do I write? I write about relationships, about love. I often write about interracial relationships. I like reading stories about people who are different, who see past the differences and fall in love. And those are the stories I also enjoy writing. I write stories for people who know that love comes in many colors.
2016 Readers' Favorite International Book Award Silver Metal Winner
There was no denying his remarkable skill with a hockey stick,
But it was his talents off the ice that caught Breena's eye.
Cursed with what could be one of the worst supernatural abilities imaginable, Breena has never had the luxury of falling in love. Hell, she's never even held a guy's hand. At only twenty-two years old, she's just about given up on the whole love thing. After all, when you can see twelve hours of someone's future by a simple touch, and they, in turn, can see what you see, well... relationships are sort of out of the question. Her gigs performing psychic readings at parties, and the occasional one-on-one private appointment are just about Breena's only connection with people. No matter how much she might wish otherwise.
Hawk's hard body and skill have earned him a starting position on the Pioneer's college hockey team. But it's not his talent with a hockey stick that's the most remarkable. His gorgeous two-colored eyes not only draw the attention of every female on campus, they also allow him to track people and objects. But when he suddenly finds himself stalked by a stranger, he seeks out the help of the rumored, "campus gypsy" for help.
Despite his vow to stay single and play as many college women as he can while the fun lasts, Hawk can't ignore his attraction to the lovely and spirited Breena. And she can't get the hunky star hockey player out of her mind once a single touch of his hand reveals something utterly strange. Surrounded by mystery, they realize that fate has brought them together for a reason, but can they stay alive long enough to recognize the depth of their feelings for one another?
This is Breena's story. She was a child in all three books of Whisper Cape. She is now grown up with a story of her own, but you won't find any spoilers to Whisper Cape in A Gypsy's Kiss. 18+ due to adult situations.
Susan Griscom writes paranormal and contemporary romance. She's hooked on sexy romances and is a huge fan of superheroes and bad boys confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers, and abilities beyond the norm mixed with steamy romance, of course.
She loves those days when she gets to sit around in her sweat pants, doing nothing but writing emotionally charged stories about love and violence.
She lives in Northern California in wine country and one of her favorite weekend excursions is wine tasting with the love of her life. Together, she and her romantic husband have five great superhero kids and eight mini-superhero grand kids, so far.
For a Friday night, the visitors to the arena’s ice rink seemed a bit sparse. That was just fine by me. It would afford me more opportunities to take Breena around the ice without having to dodge other novice skaters.
“I don’t know about this, Hawk,” she said as I laced up her skates for her. I’d rented her a pair of the rink’s, no doubt dull and worn out figure skates, while I wore my own hockey skates. If she decided she liked skating after this, we could see about getting her a pair of her own someday. Listen to me, talking as if we’d made plans for a long and blissful future together. Maybe I needed to have my head examined. The life of a hockey player, on the road all the time, not much time for commitments to a relationship. That was another reason why I’d never been in one. I could see it eventually, someday in the future with someone like Breena Cassidy, but for now I’d keep it just friends. I did like the idea of discussing abilities with Breena though.
“You’ll be fine. I promise not to let you fall. Remember, I can see where you’re going before you even get there.” She gave me a strange look, and I hoped she hadn’t taken that the wrong way. Her “creepy stalker guy” comment from last week surfaced to the front of my mind. “I mean, if you’re going to fall, I’ll know it ahead of time.”
“Come on, Gypsy.” I took her hand in mine. Was this awesome sensation going to happen every time we touched? The prospect of kissing Breena exploded in my mind, as well as a dozen other things I’d like to do with her, and I had to check those thoughts before my jeans became too tight to skate.
I put my other hand around her waist and helped her onto the ice. She was a little shaky, and her left foot slid out from under her, but I held on tight and righted her before she could fall. Ice was hard and cold, and I didn’t want her first experience skating to be a bad one. We made it around the rink three times without her falling. I could have held on to her waist for hours, but if I wanted her to learn to skate, she’d need to learn to balance on her own. “I’m going to let go of your waist now.”
“It’s okay. I have your hand. And I’m quick. I’ll catch you before you fall.” She skated along beside me while I held her hand. I showed her how to move her feet, and by the fifth time around the ice, she was doing it on her own. “Are you sure you’ve never skated before?”
“Positive. That’s something I think I would remember.”
A slow song came on over the PA, and I grabbed her right hand with my left and snuck my right arm around her waist as I skated backward. We glided in time to the music, her skates mimicking mine as we danced around the ice as if we were in an old-time movie. I didn’t want the song to stop, but when it did, I reluctantly let her go. We made our way around the rink several more times until Breena complained that her feet were getting sore. I had to give her credit for lasting as long as she had in those cheap, overused skates.
I helped her get her skates off and then took my own off. We stood at the same time, facing each other. A sparkle of ice gleamed on her cheek and I smoothed it away with my finger. Her plump, red lips beckoning me to kiss them, the urge too irresistible to deny. I leaned down and skimmed my mouth over hers. She didn’t move. I wanted to taste this girl like I’d never wanted anyone else before. I gently pressed my lips to hers again. Her lips parted, accepting. When our tongues met, the sensation screamed through every cell of my body. I almost lost control of myself in the middle of the arena. What was it that she did to me? Why did she make me feel this way? Whatever it was, I wanted more, and she moaned a little as I explored her mouth, taking in every nuance, every little sensation. I could tell kissing wasn’t something she did very often. In fact, I thought maybe this was her first, considering she hadn’t been able to have any skin contact with anyone before me without exposing her ability. I didn’t want to stop, but I managed to pull away. I stared at her face, her eyes still closed, her lips still puckered. I waited anxiously for her reaction. Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled at me.
“Hey, Gypsy,” I whispered and brushed away a loose strand of her hair. “Was that the first time you’ve ever been kissed?”
“No!” she blushed. “Well … yes. I mean … because of my ability, I’ve never been able to get that close to anyone before.”
An overwhelming influx of grief came over me as I thought about the lonely life she’d had to live up until now, never being able to touch or be touched. So many emotions came from touch. Then I immediately felt like a heel. I didn’t want to hurt this girl. I liked her. But kissing her had been the wrong thing to do. Particularly because she’d never had the opportunity before. I may have just stepped into something I had a feeling required a whole lot more commitment than I intended. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Not the way she would want. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t.” She turned away from me, but I got right back in her face. There was no way I was letting her walk away after that beautiful kiss. I liked this girl and wanted to get to know her. She was someone I could talk to. Someone I could share things with that I couldn’t mention to other women. I may have rushed things a bit with the kiss, but damn, she turned me on.
“Breena, I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was your first time. Really.”
“I shouldn’t have told you that, and I don’t need your pity,” she said and walked away from me.
“Damn it, Breena. Wait!” I grabbed her by the arm. “Believe me, pity is the last thing I want to give you.”
“What do you want from me, Hawk? Why did you come to me last week for a reading? Was I just some sort of experiment to you? To see if you could get the “weird” girl to succumb to your charms? Well, congratulations. Now let me go.”
“No. I won’t let you go. Not until you understand. I came to you for help. Really. I honestly believe that someone is stalking me, and I thought you could help me figure out who it is. Especially since my own ability isn’t helping me. But you’re so … so damn beautiful. I couldn’t help myself.”
She sighed and lowered her head as if in defeat. I let go of her arm and she turned toward the door.
I hurried up beside her. “Are you really mad?”
She continued walking, not saying anything.
“What? Now you’re not talking to me?”
She shoved the heavy glass door open and stepped out into the chilled night air. Inhaling, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The lightweight jacket she had on was no match for the cold front swooping in. I went to put my arm around her, but she shrugged it off and headed toward her car. I guess she hadn’t liked the kiss as much as I had. But man, it sure felt as if she’d loved it.
“Okay. So, you’re not talking to me. I can handle that. I get it. But I still need your help, and I’m not going to apologize for kissing you.”
She gave me a stern glance as she unlocked the car. She quickly got in behind the wheel, and I slipped into the passenger seat. She stuck the key in the ignition and started the engine. The car boomed with silence. I couldn’t take it.
“For the record, that was the first time I’ve ever kissed a gypsy.”
I caught the hint of a smile on her face as she backed out of the parking space.
Revenge is sweet…unless you are on the receiving end of it.
“Do you know of anyone who would want…you dead?”
Officer Daniel Jenkins was no stranger to the dangers his job posed but usually he knew who was trying to kill him. Being stalked was a completely different ball game, and he wasn’t sure there were any rules…
“…I need you.”
Terrified didn’t even begin to describe how Kami felt with the stalker targeting her. As an FBI agent you were trained to handle stressful situations, but being the victim put the whole process in a different light.
As the killer gets closer, so do Kami and Daniel, but will they live long enough to see their love bloom?
Only God can save them from this unknown killer…
Author Ashley Dawn was born and raised in rural Arkansas where she developed her love for writing while helping in her parent's office. She graduated with an accounting degree from the University of Central Arkansas but is currently working as a legal assistant.
Ashley has been writing professionally for the past ten years and has three published books. Her Shadows Series include Shadows from the Past, Shadows of Suspicion and Shadows of Pain. She is currently working on multiple projects including the fourth in her ‘Shadows’ series entitled “Shadows of Deception” and also a standalone suspense titled ‘One of Their Own’. She and her family make their home in Texas.
Today is our stop on the blog tour for Hunt the Dawn by Abbie Roads! Check it out and grab your copy today! About Hunt the Dawn: "Dark and delicious."—Kerrelyn Sparks,New York Timesbestselling author on Race the DarknessOut of darkness and danger… You can't hide your secrets from Lathan Montgomery-he can read your darkest memories. And while his special abilities are invaluable in the FBI's hunt for a serial killer, he has no way to avoid the pain that brings him. Until he is drawn to courageous, down-on-her-luck Evanee Brown and finds himself able to offer her something he's never offered another human being: himself. Dawns a unique and powerful love Nightmares are nothing new to Evanee Brown. But once she meets Lathan, they plummet into the realm of the macabre. Murder victims are reaching from beyond the grave to give Evanee evidence that could help Lathan bring a terrifying killer to justice. Together, they could forge an indomitable partnership to thwart violence, abuse, and death-if they survive the forces that seek to tear them apart.
I have extremely vivid dreams at night. So vivid they often
seem real to me. As you can imagine I’ve been fascinated with dreams my entire
life. One of the great joys I have in my job as a mental health counselor is
working with clients to uncover what their nightly dreams are really about.
Here’s some of the things I use to help clients find the
meaning of their dreams…
*Generally, when we sleep deeply and don’t dream that’s an
indication that our body is tired. When we dream intensely all night long, it’s
usually an indicator that our mind is stressed or we are mentally exhausted.
*Always record your dreams in as much detail as possible. Do
this for a few weeks/months. Then go back and look for themes. Similarities.
Patterns. You might be surprised at what you find.
*Don’t always think the dream is about what it seems to be about. Look for a deeper
meaning. For example, awhile back I dreamed that three lions were chasing me as
I ran across a field. That dream was not about me being afraid of lions. The
dream ultimately was about me being stressed by three people who I kept trying
to withdraw from and who wouldn’t let me go.
*Ask yourself how you felt emotionally during the dream and
when you woke up. Your emotions are a better indicator to what the dream is really about than what actually happened
in the dream! Stick with the emotions. Always.
*Never use a dream interpretation book. Different objects
mean different things to different people. Period. I hate watermelon, so a
dream about watermelon would represent something negative to me. But if you
love watermelon then that dream might represent something fabulous.
*Find a good dream therapist. Yes. Dream therapists really
do exist. But if you can’t find one or afford one, find a friend who is
super-talented at talking about dreams. Usually, I talk with my friend Naomi.
She never tells me what my dream was about, but asks enough questions that I
start to find the thread of meaning myself.
*Sometimes dreams are healing. Recognize them. Embrace them.
After my beloved Grandma died, I loved falling asleep at night because I would
dream about her. Every night I would get to hug her and smell her perfume.
Those dreams helped me cope with her loss.
*Other times a dream is just a dream. Sometimes that catsup
bottle in your dream really just stands for the catsup you squeezed on your
hotdog earlier in the day. Our brains are funny that way.
Is it any wonder that I write
books about women whose dreams possess special powers?
About Abbie Roads:
Seven Things about Abbie Roads:
She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what’s most important, right?
She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages.
By day she’s a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well… Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does—the keyboard might get a little warm.
She can’t stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That’s major annoying. Right?
She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty.
Scarred Beauty (A Wylder Tale, #2) by Jennifer Silverwood
YA Dark Fantasy
ebook, 209 Pages
December 1st 2016
Vynasha has become prisoner with the other wyld beasts of the castle, but she is not alone. In the howling darkness her majikal bond with the Dungeon Master, Grendall grows, awakening the dormant power in her blood.
Yet as she discovers the true nature of the other beasts, she learns she must embrace madness in order to free them all. Vynasha is willing to do anything to end the curse, even if that means transforming into a monster.
Burried secrets come to light in this seductive sequel to Craving Beauty, the Gothic retelling of the classic fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast, where nothing is exactly as it seems and the heroine must be her own hero.
Jennifer is offering extra entries on her tour giveaway and a special giveaway
during the Twitter Chat to one lucky artist! Post your fanart and share with
Jennifer on social media (@JennSilverwood on Twitter and Tumblr and
silverwoodj on Facebook). Look for inspiration and see her posts on Tumblr.
Other Books in the Series
Craving Beauty (A Wylder Tale, #1) by Jennifer Silverwood
YA Dark Fantasy
Paperback & ebook, 239 pages
October 31st 2015
Vynasha has spent the last four years tending her mother's roses and looking after her nephew. The fire that killed their family has left her scarred and put Wyll on the brink of death. Soon the first frost will come down from the mountains and she knows this winter will be his last.
Until a strange beggar appears on the road, telling her of the majikal Source that can heal her Wyll. With nothing left to lose, Vynasha braves the forbidden Wylder Mountains to seek out a cure and her fate.
A lost kingdom is uncovered by an equally lost girl, but the castle is not abandoned as she believes. Shadows cloaking unseen eyes watch. Tapestries whisper from the hidden corners, wondering if the one to break their curse has come. And a hungry beast waits, ready to devour her soul.
Wolfsbane's Daughter (A Wylder Tale Novella) by Jennifer Silverwood
YA Dark Fantasy
ebook, 52 Pages
February 25th 2016
Wolfsbane and his daughter Resha are on a never ending quest in the Wylder Mountains, to wipe out the wolves who destroyed their village. Before their enemies stole everything she loved, Resha cared for little beyond learning how to be a hunter. After, she learned a hunter must be prepared to fight as well as flee. Now she cares for nothing but revenge.
Until she discovers two majikal humans half frozen in the forest. Resha has a choice, to follow her instincts and leave the strangers to the wolves, or save them. Yet the enemy is on the prowl and there is little time for Wolfsbane's daughter to find safe haven before they are discovered.
Jennifer Silverwood was raised deep in the heart of Texas and has been spinning yarns a mile high since childhood. In her spare time she reads and writes and tries to sustain her wanderlust, whether it’s the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania, the highlands of Ecuador or a road trip to the next town. Always on the lookout for her next adventure, in print or reality, she dreams of one day proving to the masses that everything really is better in Texas. She is the author of the Heaven’s Edge series, Stay and Silver Hollow.
Can forbidden love blossom amid the constraints of war?
The moment the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, life shifted for Miko Nishimura. Desperate to reach the Portland Assembly Center for Japanese Americans, she’s kicked off the bus miles from town. Every tick of the clock pushes her closer to becoming a fugitive in the land of her birth. Exhausted, she stumbles to her grandparents’ abandoned farm only to find a dying soldier sprawled across the step. Unable to leave him, she forsakes all else to keep him alive.
After crashing his plane in the Battle of the Atlantic, the doctors condemn Captain Rock Laroux to die. Determined to meet his maker beneath a blue sky at his family home, he sneaks out of the hospital. Weary and half out of his mind, he makes it as far as a produce stand he remembers from his youth. Rather than surrender to death, Rock fights a battle of the heart as he falls in love with the beautiful Japanese woman who saves his life.
A poignant, sweet romance, Garden of Her Heart proves love can bloom in unlikely places even under the most challenging circumstances.
USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes character-driven romances with relatable heroes and heroines. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”
Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, this hopeless romantic is out to make it happen one story at a time. When she isn’t writing or indulging in chocolate (dark and decadent, please), Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.
Shanna is a member of Western Writers of America, Women Writing the West, Romance Writers of America, Sweet Romance Reads, Cowboy Kisses, and Pioneer Hearts.
“I thought I heard you calling for me,” Miko said, climbing down a ladder on the far end of the building with an arm full of berry crates.
Rock rushed to help her. By the time he threaded his way through the packed contents of the building, she was already on the floor.
“That’s quite a car,” he said, taking half the berry crates from her and motioning to the convertible.
“Thanks. I bought it when I was still gainfully employed,” she said, walking over to the car. “I fell in love with the color the first time I saw it and started saving my money to buy one. When the weather’s nice, it’s fun to drive with the top down.”
Rock gaped at her. “It’s your car?”
Miko grinned. “Is that a hint of disbelief I hear, Captain? Not only is it my car, but I know how to change the tires, check the oil, and siphon gas out of my dad’s car when my brother, Tommy, borrows it and brings it back empty.”
He laughed, setting down the crates and wiping his hands along his trousers before touching the car. “It is a beaut. What’s this color?”
“Laguna maroon. Papa calls it the luna moon mobile, but I still think it’s one of the prettiest colors out there.” Miko opened the driver’s side door and motioned for Rock to climb in.
He sank into the leather seat and inhaled the aroma as if it was the most expensive perfume.
“Like it?” Miko asked, bending down to better see his reaction to the car.
“You bet!” He settled his hands on the steering wheel, forcing his injured fingers to curl around the wheel.
“If you like the outside of the car, you’ll probably be more impressed by the eight cylinders under the hood.” Miko released the hood latch and Rock slid out to study the engine.
He whistled and smirked at Miko. “What’s a girl like you doing with a car like this?”
“Anything I want,” she said with a sassy grin. “At least it used to be that way.”
Rock sobered and closed the hood, using the hem of his T-shirt to wipe away the smudges made by his fingerprints.
“I didn’t realize you had cars here. I was trying to figure out how to catch a ride on the bus into Portland.”
“By all means, drive one of the cars wherever you need to go.” She pointed to her grandparents’ sedan. “Papa and Mother must have sold their car or it would be here, too. Granddad wouldn’t care if you take his.” She cast a taunting look his way. “Or, if you think you can handle it, you’re welcome to drive mine.”
His raised an eyebrow at her dare as he lifted the berry baskets and followed her out the door. “Is that an invitation or a challenge?”
“Maybe both.” She turned and sauntered away, casting a flirty smile at him over her shoulder.