Book Spotlight: Shutter by Rhonda Laurel

Thanks to Rhonda for sharing this great excerpt from her book, Shutter.

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Photographer Antonio De Soto’s life is out of focus. Everyone in his family thinks it’s time for him to settle down. He doesn’t want to be strong-armed into domesticity, even if he does feel the bachelor lifestyle is starting to wear thin. So when his friend invites him to do a pictorial on the community theater, Antonio’s prepared to do his thing and follow his normal womanizing M. O. Instead, he finds himself sparring with the resident artist, Lucy Marceloni. Lucy’s dime-store analysis of his love life—and him—leaves him angry and shaken, but it’s too close to the truth to dismiss. The quirky artist is not his type, but their passionate fights generate a deeper heat between them he can’t ignore…

Lucy wants a man who’s sensitive and intellectual, the exact opposite of Antonio De Soto. The moment she meets the handsome photographer she pegs him as arrogant and self-centered, but that doesn’t protect her from the sizzling chemistry between the two of them. Being drawn to the rogue’s charm and subtle seduction tactics is the last thing she wants. Working with him on the community theater fairytale production could prove to be more than she can handle...

Excerpt:

            After a smooth cab ride to Felix’s apartment, Antonio let himself in with the key Felix had given him and dropped off his things. He was hungry and Felix wouldn’t be home until six. He strolled the main street, camera in hand, eyeing some of the changes in the decor in the store windows since his last visit. Then he stumbled upon the café Metro Eatery, went inside, and parked himself at the counter.

            The sound of Nat King Cole’s song “Mona Lisa” oozing out of the sound system immediately put him at ease. He read the menu, although he already knew he wanted. The roast beef on rye was a favorite of his, but what was making his mouth water was a slender woman with long, flowing red hair sitting at a table reading a fashion magazine. He imagined her name was Simone or some other sexy name that started with an S. Something seductive that made you want to say it over and over in throes of passion. Simone smiled and dropped her gaze back down to the magazine. Ah, the game begins.

            Wasn’t this his problem? Meeting random women and having brief affairs? Well, it was according to every woman in his life. His mother constantly asked him when he was going to settle down. Yesenia kept sending him e-books to read about fear of commitment, and Lauren just sighed when he pooh-poohed her inspirational talks about finding his soul mate. He wasn’t sure he bought into that, the idea that there was one person in the world who was meant to be with him. It could have been his hound dogging that had him jaded, but then the disproof of his theory would pop into his mind. Alejandro was evidence that there was no curse of the De Soto men, just choices that one continually makes until you find someone that fits into those ragged grooves on the side of your body.

            A woman seated on the other side of the counter broke him out of his daydream. She seemed to be laughing to herself but looked in his direction. He turned his attention to her. She looked up from her paper and shook her head.

            “Hi,” he said, smiling.

            She didn’t answer.

            Determined not to be ignored, he leaned over and said it again. “Hi.”

            She didn’t look up from her paper.

            “I was wondering what you thought was so funny,” he said, a little louder.

            Once she put down the paper, he saw a pair of glasses teetering on the edge of her nose. The first thing he noticed was her face. It was round but not too round and she had a cleft in her chin. Which made him think of something dirty he’d said one time to this woman he dated who had a cleft in her chin. Though he thought this prim woman sitting across from him with a scarf wrapped twice around her neck wouldn’t find his limerick even remotely funny. She seemed no-nonsense, but her pretty brown eyes were warm and inviting.

            “I was just thinking, I haven’t seen a mating ritual like that since watching the Animal Channel. It would be simpler to just go over there and sniff her, and then maybe the hamburger I just ate wouldn’t come back up from watching the two of you.” She smiled.

            Antonio knew he shouldn’t say the first thing that popped into his head. That she was jealous he wasn’t flirting with her. The angelic red-haired aberration and the wisecracking scarf woman were as different as night and day. Scarf woman had on overalls, for heaven’s sakes! She was essentially covered from head to toe, looking more like a vagabond than a grown woman whose age he couldn’t determine.

            “It’s just human nature, I suppose.” He glanced back at the woman sitting at the table. “We all have a mating dance. Some are more obvious than others.”

            “Some are more sickening than others.” Scarf woman shook her head.

            “Cynic.”

            “Whore,” she shot back at him.

            “Did you actually just call me a whore? You don’t even know me.” He laughed, put his hand on his chest, and feigned indignation.

            “I don’t have to know you. What you are is written all over your face.” She smirked.

            Antonio knew he was headed down the wrong road with this fireball. But what the hell. He had time to kill until Felix came home.

            He ordered quickly when the waitress appeared, then turned his attention back to the scarf woman. “OK, tell me all about myself,” he said with a devilish smile.

            Scarf woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “You are a narcissist, who is probably the baby of the family. Always got what you wanted and is never in short supply of women. The camera is your ruse to lure women into your tacky web of seduction. Little do they know that they are just a prop for your entertainment. I bet you could bat those pretty, light-brown eyes and get any woman to do as you please. And that is thrilling to you. Knowing you can gain such immediate control over some unsuspecting bimbo’s life so easily.”

            Antonio said sweetly, “So you think my eyes are pretty?”

            “I rest my case.” She smiled and slid off her stool. If she was trying to make a graceful exit, that went down the toilet. Scarf woman had bags and a huge purse. When her feet firmly touched the floor he could see she was much shorter than him.

            “You have a good day,” he said, half sorry to see her go. “And your name is?” He was sure Felix would have seen this weird creature flitting around town.

            “I was just born yesterday. Don’t have a name yet,” she said as she walked out of the café.

            Antonio laughed, thinking that women like that would forever be angry with the Simones of the world. With her crazy colorful overalls, that damn double-wrapped scarf, and the cluster of bags she juggled, this woman obviously didn’t want anyone to see her. Still, he felt compelled to pick up his camera and snap her picture as she turned right out the door and walked past the window. And he had seemingly forgotten all about his angelic aberration Simone sitting at the table. He’d been so enthralled with his conversation with the scarf lady that he hadn’t even seen her leave.

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Find Rhonda on her website and purchase Shutter on Amazon and All Romance eBooks

Book Spotlight: A Lost Kitten by Jessica A. Kong

Today I'm spotlighting a great parnormal romance by Jessica Kong. Check out the blurb below:

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John McCall labels the attack on the Sea-anan Empire as a nightmare.  He escapes the enemy’s invasion.  Stranded on a distant planet called Surreal, he quickly learns the true meaning of nightmare when he discovers his soulmate is of “the mist.”  With a tyrant destroying his empire, and his family missing in action, John must decide whether to remain on the ghost planet with his soulmate or return to the land of the living to locate his family.

Jasira Eversole is drawn to the powerfully built outlander.  John’s rugged good looks and chiseled body compel Jasira to reach out and touch him. Being of the mist, Jasira knows she will not be able to feel John, but she cannot resist his pull. The richness of John’s hair, the firmness of his muscles, and the clean scent of his skin all take Jasira off guard. She swiftly realizes John is her intended mate. Now, Jasira must somehow convince the young warrior that they are two halves of one soul without chasing him off Surreal, leaving her to a lonely existence as mist.
You can purchase A Lost Kitten on Amazon.

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About Jessica
Jessica A. Kong lives in Somerset, New Jersey with her loving husband of twenty years and teenage triplets.  She is an avid reader of fantasy, futuristic, and paranormals. When she is not reading she enjoys arts and craft, puzzles, and crocheting.
Find Jessica on Goodreads and Facebook.

Book Spotlight: Last Call by Sarah Ballance

I'm welcoming Sarah to my blog today who is sharing a nail-biting excerpt from her romantic suspense novel, Last Call. This is getting added to my TBR list!!

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In a perilous game of trust, a shocking betrayal deals a dangerous hand.


An accidental witness to a murder-for-hire, ex-cop Rhys Clark becomes the target of ruthless killer—one determined to silence her at any cost. Playing dead seems to be the most likely way to stay alive, but when her protection comes in the form of mega-sexy former adversary Nick Massey, Rhys can think of  a few fates worse than death.


Nick Massey may have walked away from his troubles, but he never got past wanting Rhys. Once paired undercover, they’d been nothing but fireworks until a botched assignment ended her career, sending his into a tailspin. Now a mysterious client threatens Nick’s life if he doesn’t keep Rhys safe, but it isn’t until fate takes a critical turn that he realizes the devastating truth: he’s been her greatest threat all along.

LAST CALL is available from: For the Muse Publishing, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords

~Excerpt~

Rhys Clark swore and jerked her foot from the murky puddle that had just claimed one of her new running shoes. Perfect. The day was now officially perfect.
She blamed Nick Massey.
Blaming him was easy enough. She didn’t know which required more nerve on his part—leaving town or crawling back—but both events left her bitter and raw. And wet, she grumbled inwardly. With the sky spitting rain and the occasional pellet of sleet smacking her face, she should have skipped her evening jog. The street was little more than a concrete alley of shuttered businesses, and the bleak weather amplified the emptiness. But tonight, with Nick hot on her mind, running through the cold was her last ditch effort to return to her senses.
It hadn’t worked.
Another blast of icy air howled through the narrow street. If she hadn’t been standing still, she probably wouldn’t have heard the shouting that followed.
A few months ago, an altercation wouldn’t have been unusual in this part of town. But the whole area was under reconstruction. Local crime dissipated to nothing with the razing of several apartment buildings, and until now Rhys had long found her route to be a place of solace. She glanced around as the voices drew closer and more intense. Rapid footsteps smacked the wet pavement. Then the echo of a gunshot cracked the night.
Where fear left her paralyzed, instinct insisted she get out of sight. She looked around and found an unbroken expanse of concrete wall offering few options. Heart pounding, Rhys ducked into the recessed doorway of a vacant storefront and hoped the deep shadows would keep her concealed.
Terrifying seconds passed. The sound of her own suppressed breath roared in her ears.
Voices came, clearer this time. Close.
“If we screw this up…” The words, terse and hushed, were encapsulated in panic.
“Shut up,” demanded a second voice. “No one messed up. He’s as good as dead.”
“You think you’re going to sell that without a body? We didn’t get paid to lose him.”
“He took one to the gut. He won’t get far. We’ll find him.”
“He’s leaving a trail. Blood. We got the big bucks for a clean—”
“Shut up.”
A hit? Rhys shuddered, fear scaling her spine. A professional hit would have been silent—something not accomplished by the gunshot or the ensuing conversation—but in this game, experience wasn’t always a prerequisite for willingness to pull the trigger. Two years of undercover work had taught her as much.
So had a bullet.
Rhys froze, waiting for the voices to pass. But luck was not on her side. Rather than drawing away, the footsteps ceased.
“Well, well, well,” said the confident one. “Looks like our little game of hide and seek is over.”
Hope crumbled. The voice was far too close. Had they seen her?
She dared not move. Through her lashes, she saw nothing in her narrow view of the dimly lit street but dirty puddles and the occasional bit of trash plastered to wet pavement. She prayed they didn’t look her way should they walked past.
Grunts erupted nearby, followed by the sound of sneakers scuffling on concrete. Then two shots fired, and all sounds of struggle gave way to profane celebration.
In the same instant, a man fell to the sidewalk in front of Rhys. His eyes, sightless and familiar, bore into her.
She choked a gasp.
A man stepped into her line of sight, his weapon at the ready. Before she could stop herself, she locked eyes with him. Big mistake. The decision threw her into a cloud of emotional shrapnel, the past flying at her in shards. She’d been shot once before.
It hadn’t ended well.
The gunman opened his mouth and formed an ugly grin, his breath coming in visible puffs through yellowed teeth. “Looks like a double header tonight, T,” he said, never taking his gaze off Rhys.
“Whaddya mean?” came the reply. The voice . . . she blinked until the second man shifted into focus.
She knew him. From where? She couldn’t think.
She glanced to the dead man, and her vision wavered. Panic shifted her world into a screen of jarred pixels, the flashback jagged and severe.
“Rhys! Stay with me, Rhys. Do you hear me? Rhys!”
Blood. So much blood.
“Nick.” She touched his face, feeling stubble beneath her fingertips. Then the weight of her arm was too much; as gravity won he slipped away. The world twisted into a sickening spiral until all that was left was his voice, the desperation in his tone bringing warmth to the darkness.
“Rhys!”
Motion jarred her to the present.
The gunman gestured. “Our witness here is about to have an unfortunate accident.” He raised the weapon, aiming for the kill.
It was a short view down the barrel at point blank range. She expected that.
What she didn’t anticipate was the speed with which he pulled the trigger.
Or how quickly the pain hit.

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