Saturday, January 20, 2018

Whispers Of An Angel

Sometimes second chances start with four paws.
In the small town of Marshall Glen, Sofia retreats from life following the death of her husband. Six-year-old Kady lives in foster care and hasn’t spoken since a house fire stole her family. After she saves Kady’s dog from drowning, Sofia attempts to stay locked away, but learns that—
…even though she’s given up, her heart wants to—try again.
When Kady runs away from her foster home, Sofia meets the cop in charge of the search, Brandon—her first love. Sparks fly even as she struggles with her conscience. Is she being unfair to her husband’s memory?
When random acts of vandalism turn to attempted kidnapping, Brandon helps keep Kady safe. As the danger deepens, how far will Sofia go to save a child?

About the Author: 
“Whisper of an Angel” is Lorah Jaiyn’s debut novel. Her short stories have been featured in several anthologies, and she has much more in the works. Her mood dictates genre blend from magic to vigilante justice. She lives in Central Florida and credits her Jack Russell as both her muse and biggest distraction. Lorah enjoys creating with polymer clay and volunteers with a wildlife rescue. She loves exploring the great outdoors and is also totally addicted to the Hallmark Channel.

Stalk links:
Twitter: @writerlorahj

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Exclusive Excerpt: A Merciful Secret

Giveaway Alert!

Exclusive Excerpt: A Merciful Secret 

Mercy couldn’t sleep. 

She’d gone home after the eventful morning and had every intention of napping for the rest of the afternoon, but during her shower her brain had shifted into high gear and wouldn’t turn off. She’d lain in bed for a full hour, trying to get the image of Olivia’s abused body and Morrigan’s teary face out of her mind. 

She couldn’t do it. Instead she drove to work, planning to find information about Olivia Sabin. 

Even if it wasn’t her case. 

As she walked through her office’s parking lot, a tall man slid out of a black Range Rover. “Agent Kilpatrick?” 

Mercy stopped and wrapped her fingers around the pepper spray in the pocket of her coat. Every coat had one. The stranger had dirty-blond hair that needed a cut and sported a healthy tan even though it was January. His coat looked fresh from an expensive sporting goods store, but his heavy boots were beat up. He held up his hands in a calming gesture and flashed a charming smile. “My name’s Michael Brody. I’m an investigative reporter for The Oregonian.” 

Mercy relaxed a fraction. “What can I do for you?” She kept the pepper spray in her hand. 

“We have a mutual friend. Ava McLane.” 

She’d worked with Ava at the Portland FBI office. “So?” Reporters had never approached Mercy before, but she knew some agents had worked on high-profile cases and complained of their pestering. 

“I’d like to talk to you about the murder of Malcolm Lake.” Brody’s intense green stare reminded her of a hawk’s. 


Brody frowned. “He’s a judge for the United States District Court of Oregon.” 

She was clueless. “I don’t know anything about it. He was murdered?” 

“The night before last.” 

She’d been out of the office the day before, working from home with the TV and Internet off. “What does this have to do with me?” 

Brody glanced at his watch. “Really? No one’s contacted your office yet? I can’t be the first.” 

“I wasn’t in the office yesterday and haven’t gone in yet today.” She gestured at the door. “You’re keeping me from doing so.” 

“You were at the murder scene of Olivia Sabin this morning, correct?”

Mercy said nothing. 

He nodded as if that were confirmation. “Her body was deeply slashed several times?” 

She kept her face blank, but alarm started to churn in her stomach. How did the press find out I was there? Who leaked that detail? 

“Judge Lake was found in the same condition in his home. The extent of his injuries haven’t been released to the public.” 

Stunned, she blurted, “Then how did you find out?” 

He smiled. “I have my sources.” 

Asshole. There’s no way Ava is his friend. 

“What I’m trying to figure out is why an important judge like Lake was murdered in the same manner as an old woman living in the woods. The only connection I can see is that the judge lived in this area at one time.” 

“I can’t help you. Contact Deschutes County. It’s their case.” 

“Ah. Not any longer. With its similarity to the murder of a judge, which of course is being investigated by the FBI—our mutual friend Ava has the judge’s case—the murder of Olivia Sabin now will be included in the FBI’s investigation.” 

Mercy was speechless. The FBI now has Olivia’s case

“I had assumed the local case was given to you since you were present at the scene this morning. I guess I’m wrong about that.” 

“How did you know I was there?” Anger had replaced her shock. 

“It doesn’t matter. People talk; I listen.”

“Well, your source left out some important details.” She clamped her mouth shut, nearly having spilled that she’d found the dying woman. She wasn’t going to be Michael Brody’s next ‘source.’” 

“Like what?” 

“Why don’t you go talk to Ava? And there’s no way you’re a friend of hers.” 

He gave a lazy grin. “I am. To both her and her fiancĂ©, Mason Callahan. Very good friends. Their dog Bingo adores me, I’ve drunk wine in their newly remodeled kitchen, and I’m on the guest list for their wedding this summer.” 

So was Mercy. 

“You’re cocky, aren’t you?” 

“It’s one of my best qualities.” Another guileless smile. 

A small part of her softened. A very small part. The man was charming, but not in a smarmy way. He had an honest air about him. “I don’t have any information for you.” 

He glanced at the building. “Maybe you should go see if Ava has arrived yet.” 

“She’s coming? Here?” Despite the horrible circumstances, the thought of seeing her friend cheered her immensely. 

“I might have beat her to town. Once I heard the investigation was shifting to Bend, I left.” 

“Are we done, then?” Ava asked. 

“You didn’t say why you were at the scene this morning. If you weren’t there as investigator, then why were you there?” 

She gave her own lazy grin.

Hmph,” said Brody with a twist of his lips. “I’m not scared of a challenge.” 

Neither was Mercy.


Raised off the grid by survivalists, Mercy Kilpatrick believed in no greater safeguard than the backwoods of Oregon. Unforgiven by her father for abandoning the fold for the FBI, Mercy still holds to her past convictions. They’re in her blood. They’re her secrets—as guarded as her private survival retreat hidden away in the foothills.

In a cabin near her hideaway, Mercy encounters a young girl whose grandmother is dying from multiple knife wounds. Hundreds of miles away, a body is discovered slashed to death in a similar way. The victims—a city judge and an old woman living in the woods—couldn’t be more different. With the help of police chief Truman Daly, Mercy must find the killer before the body count rises. Mercy knows that the past has an edge on her. So does her family. How can she keep her secrets now…when they’re the only things that can save her?

Author Biography
Kendra Elliot has landed on the Wall Street Journal bestseller list multiple times and is the award-winning author of the Bone Secrets and Callahan & McLane series and the Mercy Kilpatrick novels. Kendra is a three-time winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award, an International Thriller Writers finalist, and an RT Award finalist. She has always been a voracious reader, cutting her teeth on classic female heroines such as Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, and Laura Ingalls. She was born, raised, and still lives in the rainy Pacific Northwest with her husband and three daughters but looks forward to the day she can live in flip-flops. Visit her at

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Tuesday, January 16, 2018

What horrible secret is hidden by DEADLY DECEPTION?

I’m so excited to share details about my new release and to give you a peek into my writing process. One of the best things about being a pantser (i.e. someone who writes by the seat of her pants instead of planning or outlining first) is that I never know where the plot or characters are going to lead me. I began writing DEADLY DECEPTION with the premise that one character’s deception regarding a horrible family secret would have fatal consequences. As the story developed, I discovered more and more characters—including the hero and heroine—needed to hide something. By the end, nearly every character was guilty of deception. So the burning question became whether Sean and Jessie could survive a ton of deception to have their second chance at love.


When her mother disappears, Jessica Hargrove’s life begins to unravel. And her problems are only just beginning. A horrible secret has been revealed, threatening to destroy three generations of her family, and the one person who may be able to help her is the man she’s never stopped loving, the man who once broke her heart.

LAPD Detective Sean Burke is back in his small hometown, pondering if his career in the big city is what he really wants anymore. As painful as it is to see Jessie again, she needs him. He can’t walk away when she’s about to lose everything she holds dear. But will what he discovers ruin their second chance at love?

A voice called to Sean through the darkness, but he couldn’t make out the words over the jackhammering in his head. The constant pounding seemed to be pulling him up, up, up, like the crank on the back of a tow truck. If the pain ricocheting around his body was any indication of what awaited him at the top, he wasn’t sure he wanted to surface.

The voice came again, louder, clearer. The rhythmic beating quieted. The cocooning darkness faded. The throbbing pain increased.

“Sean Burke, don’t you dare die on me. If I kill you, I want to do it with my bare hands, not my car. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah. Loud…and clear,” he mumbled. He managed to open his eyes a slit, but the world was a blur.

Jessie squealed. “Oh, thank God, you’re not dead.”

“I got…the message. You want…to use…your hands.” He groaned at the effort required to speak and let his eyes close. His chest ached as if his lungs had been crushed and were working overtime to inflate. Warm liquid ran down the right side of his face. He wanted to touch it, but his hands wouldn’t respond to his brain. Not good. Not good at all.

“Sean, wake up. Are you all right?”

“What do…you think? You hit me…with a car,” he muttered without opening his eyes. “Slapping me is one thing. Running me down…is over the top.”

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I thought you were the person who took my mother. I mean I didn’t try to hit him either. I was calling Luke and dropped my phone. Then I ran off the road.”

Her barrage of words bounced off his brain like sleet on concrete. He flinched.

“Oh no, you’re in pain. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” When he opened his eyes, her panicked expression gave him some satisfaction.

“Your head is bleeding bad. I should call an ambulance.” She rose from her knees.

“No,” he ground out.

She stopped and rubbed her hand across her forehead. “Well okay. I know. I’ll call Luke.”

“Fuck no,” he snapped, more emphatic this time, and paid the price with a lightning bolt inside his skull.

“But…but…” She dropped back onto her knees next to him. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding.” She leaned across him and moved his hood away from the injury. “Ugh. Your sweatshirt and cut are full of dirt and gravel. I need something clean to press against it. Do you have anything?”

“Not…handy.” He grimaced as a wave of nausea swept through him.

Jessie glanced around in the darkness. Did she expect something to magically show up? His gaze dropped to her clothes.

“What about your sweatshirt?” he asked.

“My sweatshirt?”

“Yeah. This is your fault, after all. You can at least ruin a piece of clothing on my behalf.” He cringed inwardly at the unintended anger in his tone.

“Uh, well, okay.” She glanced around nervously.

Well hell, wasn’t he worth a simple piece of clothing? All he was asking for was a damn sweatshirt, not some expensive dress or something. What was her problem?

Jessie sighed and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. Sean almost choked when her bare breasts bounced into view. And an awesome view it was. Despite his blurred vision and nausea, his dick hardened at the sight.

Avoiding his gaze, Jessie leaned over him again. Her position put a tantalizing nipple within reach. He bit down on his tongue to keep it in his mouth. If he licked her nipple, he was sure she’d get in her car and run him over. Again. Forward and reverse, for good measure.

Buy links:
Barnes and Noble

About Marissa:
I'm a wife, writer, chocoholic, and animal lover, not necessarily in that order. As a little girl, I cut pictures of people out of my mother’s magazines and turned them into characters in my simple stories. Now I write edgy romantic thrillers, steamy contemporary romance, and sexy paranormal romantic suspense. My stories will titillate your mind as well as your libido. I live in sunny Southern California with my husband, but enjoy traveling from Athens to Anchorage to Acapulco and many locations in between.

Where to find Marissa:

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