#NewBookRelease - Tell Me Lies by Michelle Lindo-Rice

Tell Me Lies 

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

 (Christian Fiction Author)

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About The Book:


A broken heart...When Sydney Richardson meets Pastor Noah Charleston it was practically love at first sight. Sydney has battled so much deception in her personal life and in her work as an attorney, she is glad to have a perfect man she can depend on. But her Prince Charming has some secrets that are worse than Sydney could have ever imagined. What will she do when Noah's past life come to light?

A broken truth… Pastor Noah Charleston has come a long way since his troubled youth. A respected Man-of-God, Noah’s long buried past emerges in the form of blackmail and threats. Noah not only fears for his safety but also for his newfound love. Will he take a chance on the truth before it’s too late?

A broken trust...Newly converted Christian, Belinda Santiago, harbors a secret that could end her friendship with Sydney. She’s in love with Lance Forbes, Sydney’s ex-fiancé. When Belinda and Lance’s relationship is exposed she may have to choose between her man and her best friend.

A broken man...Lance Forbes returns to Port Charlotte to make things right with Sydney, but his feelings for Belinda are in his way. Lance knows for him to become a do-right man, he must face his childhood pain. Will Lance get his act together and take a chance on love or run again?

Kindle: ASIN: B018EXNO70

Publication Date: Jan 12, 2016

Genre: Christian Fiction

Purchase Links:

Amazon | B&N

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Excerpt: 

Prologue

“The rumor is three black boys killed your parents. Is it true?”

Perched on the edge of his cot, Noah Charleston lifted his eyes to look at the four half-men standing before him. The leader of the pack, Mitch, was sixteen with a baby face, braces and bad acne around his chin. His two muscles, twins Roger and Wylie, were about a year older at seventeen. Both were built like linebackers. Finally, the Whiz, or Matthew a slender fifteen year old with glasses that took up half of his face was the brain of the group.

“Answer him,” Roger prodded, stepping into the small cell.

Noah shrugged. “That was a year ago.”

“We can do something about that.” Mitch popped his gum. “Join us.”

Noah had heard about the “Avengers” as they dubbed themselves. They ruled the juvenile detention hall and dressed in their version of combat gear: khaki pants, boots and camouflage shirts. Even the counselors were afraid of them.

Noah kept to himself. Everyone pretty much left him alone. Except for today.

He looked up at them. “Do I have a choice?”

Wylie stepped forward. “Do you want me to help you make up your mind?”

“How about I help fix that ugly face of yours?” Noah threw back.

Wylie sprung at Noah. Noah jumped to his feet and sidestepped the much bigger guy. Then he bashed Wylie in the back of the head. Roger lunged at him.

“Quit it,” Mitch bellowed. “Leave him alone.”

Roger’s chest heaved but he backed off. His eyes held a threat. Noah met his gaze, daring him to bring it.

“I like your heart,” Mitch said. “We need you.”

“I like my own company,” Noah said.

“We have something you want,” the Whiz said. His voice was barely above a whisper. He wheezed his words as if he was always in need of an asthma pump.

“You don’t have—”

Noah’s eyes widened. The Whiz held a crumpled 3x5 photograph in his hand. Noah snatched it, “Where did you find this?”

“We have our ways,” Mitch bragged.

Noah squinted.

“I hacked into the computer system,” the Whiz said. This time he coughed at the end of his words. “I know who took your picture.”

“We’ve handled him.” Mitch’s tone was solemn.

“That’s why you should be thanking us,” Wyle said, rubbing the back of his head.

Noah looked at the photograph of his parents and closed his eyes to keep the tears from falling. It was his most prized possession. When he had been sent here to the juvenile home two months ago, Noah had placed it under his pillow before lunch. When he checked for it later that night, it had been gone. He searched everywhere but couldn’t find it. That was the first time since his parents’ funeral Noah had cried himself to sleep.

“Thank you,” he grounded out.

“Thank us by joining us,” Mitch said.

The Whiz held up a picture. It was an African-American by the name of Tony Billows who had taken it.

Noah clenched his fists. “Where is he?”

“In the hospital with some missing teeth,” Roger said.

“And a missing pinky,” Wylie added.

Noah blinked. He would have settled it with a well-deserved punch or two. Not doing Tony serious injury. “That was vicious.”

“It was a message. You mess with one of us you mess with us all. We’re a family,” Mitch said.

“The Avengers,” Wylie and Roger said in unison. They held out their fists. Noah had reservations but Mitch had used the magic word. Family. Noah wanted family. He made a fist and the boys all did a fist bump.

“The Avengers,” he said.

“Welcome,” Mitch said.

“Glad to have you,” The Whiz whispered. “Now, let’s get you some proper clothes and a haircut.”

Noah swallowed his reservations. He had a family again. Nothing else mattered.

To Read the first three chapters, click here:

http://michellelindorice.blogspot.com/2015/09/tell-me-lies-prologue-and-first-three.html

About The Author:

Michelle Lindo-Rice is an award winning, bestselling author of "Able to Love" and "On the Right Path" series. She enjoys crafting women's fiction with themes centered around the four "F" words: Faith, Friendship, Family and Forgiveness. She is the 2015 winner of the Black Writers And Book Clubs Rocks Author of the Year Award. www.michellelindorice.com

 Connect Socially

Website | Facebook | Twitter 

#ReleaseDay - Anchored by Love By Unoma Nwankwor

Anchored by Love

By Unoma Nwankwor

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

About The Book:

When Jabir Danjuma met Damisi Odinga years ago, it wasn’t necessarily love at first sight.  However, their attraction can’t be denied. Just as he begins to feel the forbidden emotion, Damisi breaks up with him and moves half way across the world.

Now, Damisi has a request that only Jabir could fulfill. Their encounter sets off a series of events that leave them both with fresh pain and hurt. They vow never to see each other again, but fate has a different idea. Will they stick it out long enough for the Potter to perfect their scars and pain for His purpose or will distance and time steal the day.


Publisher: KevStel Group LLC (December 4, 2015)
Publication Date: December 4, 2015
ASIN: B0175FT2EC

Purchase Links:

Amazon Link | Kobo 

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Excerpt:

“So I guess you’re my knight in shining armor coming to rescue the damsel in distress…”

The tone of her voice was not lost on him. There was an edge in it he didn’t like.

She continued, “How many of us have there been over the years?”

“What?” He stared down at her.

She sat up straight and scooted away from him. She stared at him. “How many of us have there been? Six years…let’s see…yeah, I remember the three-month rule, so what is that, twenty-four?”

“You want to do this? Now?” His forehead creased in confusion. What had he said? How could she go from sweet one minute to this the next?

“We might as well. All this pretending we’re all good is making my stomach sick.”

He sighed. He wasn’t going to take the bait. Besides, she really didn’t want the answer. She just wanted to find a way to not let him into her heart.

“Answer me. How many?”

“No.”

“No?”

“N-O. No.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
About The Author:

Unoma Nwankwor is a romantic at heart. Born in Akron, Ohio to Nigerian parents. She spent her childhood and early adulthood years in Port-Harcourt, Nigeria. She is the COO of KevStel Group LLC, a faith based Entertainment Company aimed at providing uplifting and life changing entertainment through its movies and books.

Unoma is also the published author of An Unexpected Blessing (2013) , The Christmas Ultimatum(2013), When You Let Go (May,2014), A Scoop of Love (Jan,2015) and Anchored By Love (Dec, 2015). She has numerous published flash fiction and short stories. Her work has appeared in Africa Book Club, USA Today HEA blog and the Kenyan Ezine ;Wamathai and well as numerous radio shows and blogs. She is currently working on her next novel The Final Ultimatum.

Her readers are in love with her unique way of telling stories that capture the essence of her present home base; Atlanta Georgia and her Nigerian culture. Her stories which center on forgiveness, faith and hope have been described as a fusion of faith, romance and African spice.

After all, “and now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” ~1 Corinthians 13:13

Unoma resides in Atlanta Georgia with her husband and two kids.

Social Links:

Website: http://www.unomanwankwor.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/UNwankworAuthor

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/unwankwor

Tour Hosted by Write Now Literary Book Tours www.wnlbooktours.com

Follow the tour: http://wnlbooktours.com/anchoredbylove

Tell The Truth; The Devil Won't By Colette Harrell

 Tell The Truth; The Devil Won't

By Colette Harrell

About The Book:



From the author of The Devil Made Me Do It

The full-figured Esther Redding doesn’t realize it, but she desperately needs a change. Her Cinderella tiara is tarnished, and her glass slippers cracked.

No longer any one’s knight in shining armor, Briggs Stokes always had a soft spot for Esther. She was in his blood, and he didn’t want a transfusion. When he returns to Detroit, he decides that nothing will keep him from her door. Well, nothing . . . but the once reformed bad girl, Monica Stokes Hawthorne, Briggs’s ex, who wants to be his—give me one more chance, again—wife. The resulting tug-of-war that ensues may be the catalyst that destroys the person they both love the most.

More than one household is upset when the prison doors swing open and a “rehabilitated” Roger, Esther’s ex, returns home. Following Roger is a sinister force so malicious that no one in their community will be left untouched.

When truth is held hostage by lies, mayhem ensues. And when it does, the lives of Esther, Briggs, Monica, and Roger are forever changed.

Don’t blink—pray—these shenanigans are too shocking to miss . . .

The second stand-alone book in the Heaven over Hell trilogy.

Genre: Christian Fiction
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Urban Christian (October 27, 2015)
ISBN-10: 1622868196
ISBN-13: 978-1622868193
Publication Date: October 27, 2015

Purchase Links:

Amazon | B&N 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

About The Author:

Colette R. Harrell, Christian Fiction Author

Colette Harrell, wants you to know that she’s like you, God’s chosen vessel. She has come to be a gift, to be an encourager and a light that reflects God’s goodness.

She’s a wife, mother, author and playwright. A Detroit native, she currently calls Ohio home. She holds a master’s and is a Director of Social Services. Writing with humor and compassion to engage and minister to the human heart. Her motto is: whatever you do, do it “for love alone.”

Her newest novel, Devil Get Behind Me! Will thrill this January 2016. It is filled with wisdom and humor. This adventourous love story goes where Ms. Harrell loves to tread, down an unbeaten path. No millionaires rescuing damsels in distress—although she enjoys these reads herself—but real people, falling and getting back up.

The Devil Made Me Do It was her debut novel. It was Nominated for First Fiction for the Phyllis Wheatley Book Award. It has been held as one of Black Pearl Magazine’s, top ten Christian fiction books for 2014. And, Read Between The Lines radio show, named it as one of its overall top ten books for 2014.

Her sophomore novel, Tell The Truth, The Devil Won’t will cement her as an author to watch.

Connect Socially

Website: http://www.writespirit.org/ColetteHarrell/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Colette.R.Harrell

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ColetteRHarrell

~*~*~*~*~*~

Excerpt:

Chapter One

It was dead cold. The air crackled with the sound of ice-covered tree branches crashing onto cement sidewalks; it was an unnatural arctic day, even for Harlem. There were motorists stranded on every major highway as an epic ice storm settled over the length of New York City. And while the air over those highways was filled with road rage, explicit language, and hunger pains, the contrasting hush of the opulent brownstones on 132nd Street was shattered by an eerie scream that filled the bitter air.

Monica Hawthorne, the ex-Mrs. Briggs Stokes, stood shaking uncontrollably. Her beloved, risked-everything she-had-to-have-him husband of one month, Randall, lay in a pool of blood on their imported Brazilian cherry kitchen floor. If Randall could, he would have stood up and told her for the tenth time that ten thousand dollars for a floor was too much, and just because she could buy it didn’t mean she had to. But Randall couldn’t utter a word. She watched horrified as his blood seeped into the natural grooves of the wood, giving credence to the fact that maybe the cost was too much.

Monica blinked, but he wasn’t getting up or giving her advice about her newly acquired wealth, because standing over him was his newly divorced wife, the ex-Mrs. Meredith Hawthorne. This She-Spawn-from-the-Pits, with her six hundred-dollar hairdo mussed, her designer clothes askew, and her chest heaving in spastic breaths, clutched the knife that once protruded from Randall’s chest. Words of explanation weren’t necessary; the vivid picture painted its own morbid story.

Monica was spellbound. She was in her own home. The ordeal of leaving one husband to claim another’s was behind her. The guilt had been laid aside. The shame stamped down, at least temporarily. It was Randall and her against the world. But it had all just changed drastically.

Snapping to, Monica shrieked, “Oh sweet Jesus! What have you done? You crazy—!”

Her cries were halted by the demented gleam in the ex-Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes. The maniac’s focus switched from Randall to her, then back to Randall. Mrs. Hawthorne had gone mad, crazy, bonkers, craycray.

Monica’s head hurt at the thought that she was still addressing this woman by what was rightfully her new name. It bore psychological study that she could only think of the witch as Mrs. Hawthorne. For over three years the woman had railed it at her, negating Monica’s right to ever wear the title. She’d stood in haughty arrogance and promised in divorce court that she would never relinquish it. At the time, Monica didn’t care; she felt Mrs. Hawthorne could keep the last name, as long as she had the man. Now she felt she had been short-sighted. If in the middle of a bloody rampage, she thought of her that way, then who was she?

The murderous interloper looked on in glee as blood bubbled out of Randall’s mouth. Monica observed her spiteful approval as Randall’s hand feebly stretched over his wound, but failed in mustering the strength to staunch the flow of his river of life. His eyelids fluttered—pausing, fighting to focus as he scanned beyond Mrs. Hawthorne’s face. His eyes settled on Monica’s outstretched hands.

“Randall,” Monica whispered. She swayed in agony.

Time was grinding to a stop, like an old-fashioned watch discarded in a moth-eaten hope chest, it would soon end, and Randall would be done. She needed a way to get close to him, but Mrs. Hawthorne stood as she had for the last three years, directly in her path.

Always . . . in my way.

Rage bubbled into a go-for-broke moment. Monica launched forward and charged Mrs. Hawthorne with a Joan of Arc warrior’s roar. The sound of the impact and responding grunt was dulled by the body that crumpled to the floor. Monica gambled . . . and lost. Her body fell inches from Randall’s.

Her hands bloodied, Mrs. Hawthorne rocked in despair. She had meant to take her time with the slut, but her offensive attack had taken her by surprise.

Then . . . Monica moved. What she was witnessing had

Mrs. Hawthorne’s keening wail ricochet throughout the spacious brownstone. She glowered in anguish, howling as Monica’s fingers inched toward Randall’s, and they entwined even in their near-death status.

She watched in ghoulish repulsion as the almost loving tableau played out before her. Her eyebrows arched as she made out Monica’s pleading words, “Jesus, help us.”

A rattle of air descended from Randall . . . and then stillness.

In slow motion, Mrs. Hawthorne turned in robotic movements away from the scene. Her steps faltered when she heard Monica’s fading voice, “Father, why hast thou forsaken me?”

The prophetic words washed over her as she stood in cold resolution. Shaking it off, she strutted away from the two people who had humiliated her in public and had caused her heart to bleed dry for three unbearable years.

Randall had won his freedom, imprisoning her in her own madness in the process.

She had sworn to Randall’s dying mother, there would be no divorce. Tears gathered at the end of her hawkish nose, dribbling onto her twice-a-week, spa-waxed upper lip, then streamed down her cosmetic-tightened neck.

She was Mrs. Meredith Hawthorne, of the Hawthornes, and failure was foreign to her. In agony, she backtracked, and stumbled, tumbling over the bodies. Blindly, Meredith wiped her eyes, reared back, and spit in Monica’s face. Still feeling empty and unfulfilled, she stared, craving the ability to wake Monica and kill her again.

Rising, she noted Randall’s discarded, prized Civil War-era, matching pearl- and jewel-handled knives. She blew a kiss at him, and left the knives there. It was only fitting Randall have ownership of what he demanded in the divorce decree. What better way to deliver his bounty, then to use it as the method of obliteration for both he and his tramp?

Mrs. Hawthorne reached into her purse and pulled out her derringer. Acting as a lover whose desire is close to fulfillment, she caressed it. Her insides churning, she panted, taking one last glance at the co-conspirators to her destruction. She could answer Monica’s final question. God had forsaken Monica because she was a Delilah home wrecker. What Mrs. Hawthorne wanted to know, was why He had forsaken her.

She lay the letters for her children—who never called—on the solid mahogany credenza, then her purse. All she’d had was the facade of a happy life. She’d paid for it in an avalanche of tears as she played dumb blonde to Randall’s neglect and numerous indiscretions over the years, anything to keep him home. And how had he repaid her? By falling for a nasty, ashy-prone, ghetto rat. The slut’s resulting pregnancy, and his request for a divorce, “so he could be happy” was the Joker’s wild card. How many wrongs was she expected to endure?

She looked around and hiccupped laughter—a great-granddaughter of the confederacy ending up in a brownstone in Harlem? Well, rise up every long-buried plantation owner and move over. I’m coming in, and from this gaudy, overpriced slum.

In the middle of her cynical chuckle, she bit her lip. She was stalling and knew it. The gun shook in her hands as she placed the barrel to her temple; lips pressed together, she focused on the brightness of the moon, brilliant against the frigid dark sky. The trigger was pulled, and the gun clattered to the ground. Once again blood seeped into the Brazilian cherry hardwood floor.

It should now have been quiet in the apartment. Instead, after the booming sound of the gunshot, you could hear through the intercom three things: the startled cries of a newborn, a phone ringing, and a feeble whimper.

The air was clear and sweet with the aroma of citrus floral and the essence of myrrh. Large winged inhabitants fluttered about on missions of supreme purpose. Above, two hovered in midflight, one apparently holding the other from takeoff.

“Why do you hold me, Zadkiel? I must go. Did you not hear Monica scream? I am hers, and she is mine. Monica thinks that God has forsaken her. I am here,” he bemoaned. What the guardian saw split him in two. He could not linger.

Zadkiel pulled the guardian angel back, his wings clutched, and held him firm through the struggle. “Stand down. She cries out in fear, not faith. We are not charged to react to tears, but we are rewarders of faith. What is occurring is heartbreaking, but you have not been given leave to interfere.”

The guardian wanted to push at Zadkiel’s wings, but that would have been disrespectful. “Oh, why do the humans act this way? Must they torment and cause such pain to each other? They have left a child and though Monica has not been innocent for many years, her screams of pain bring too many hurtful emotions to the forefront. How can you float above it all?”

“I am not above anything, but we must be obedient to our Lord of Hosts. He has not given us permission to intervene; a greater good must be coming.” Zadkiel then telepathically shared with him how he kept the sounds of Randall’s and Monica’s pain in the background of his thoughts. “I am empathetic to your feelings. I have learned that our God knows all and His will is the only way. He did not create this mess, but He will make a way out for the innocent babe. Go sing a song of praise. It will ease your soul.”

Large expansive wings flapped in decisive strokes as a voice of power and beauty soared over majestic heads. As other voices joined in song, the angelic choir trumpeted the holiness and sovereignty of God. Contrary to the chaos, He continued to reign.

In another realm, the gates of hell rattled in anticipation of the eventual capture and consumption of the new souls. It was a two-course meal: adulterer and murderer, their favorites.

Secret Places By Vivian Kay ~ INTERVIEW

 Secret Places
By Vivian Kay

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Interview:

Crystal: Today I am so excited to host Vivian Kay. Welcome Vivian! I'm so happy to have you here today. Would you share a little bit about yourself with us today?

Vivian: I’m a mother, wife, therapist and passionate scrabble lover. I was born in West Africa and currently live in Canada. 

Crystal: Do you have a favorite scene you would like to share with us?

Vivian: Sharing an excerpt from Chapter Twenty-Six of Secret Places.

“He and Ngozi had agreed to meet in the city of Guelph which was about an hour away from home. Before heading to the secluded motel he’d picked out from an Internet search, Sam stopped at an ATM and withdrew some money. There were things he needed to pick up from the grocery store and it was best he didn’t leave a paper trail for Moni to follow. 
At the grocery store, he picked up several bags of Ngozi’s favorite potato chips, a box of chocolate, a bottle of wine and a case of pop before walking toward the family planning aisle. 
The pregnancy scare Ngozi had during the summer had made them cautious for a while before they went back to breaking the swinging group’s cardinal rule. Debo had stressed that the paternity of the children born to members had to be unquestionable.
Sam picked up the box of condoms and headed toward the checkout counter. His next stop was at a barbershop. He intended to arrive at the motel looking his best.
Ngozi’s car was waiting outside the motel when he arrived. He parked beside her, but didn’t walk over to her car. To avoid being seen together, they had agreed he would go in and pay for their room while she would join him later.
The young man at the front desk looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else. His bored expression changed when Sam said he was booking a room for him and his wife. 
“Spending time with the Mrs., eh?”
Sam counted out the payment. “It’s our wedding anniversary.” 
He smirked. “Aww, a romantic weekend. You’re at the right place. We get lots of honeymooners.”
Sam didn’t think peeling paint and a musty interior smell were attractive features. “I can see why,” he said as he signed the receipt. “This place definitely has the Taj Mahal Palace vibe.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to connect those dots. That would be Mr. and Mrs. Smith, right?”
Smart aleck. Sam gave him a tight-lipped smile. “No. It’s actually Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”
“Right, right.” He lifted a key from a hook on the wall behind him. “Room 12A. You can’t miss it. I’ll send the one and only Mrs. Jones up when she arrives.”
Mumbling some derogatory words under his breath, Sam headed toward the stairwell after he was told the elevator was temporarily out of service. He hoped the weekend would be worth all this hassle.”

Crystal: Where did you come up with the idea for your book title?

Vivian: The title came from the bible. Jeremiah 23:24;
 “Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the LORD. Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith the LORD.”

Crystal: What are you currently working on?

Vivian: I’m in the early stages of writing my second novel. It explores what happens when a good deed surrogacy goes wrong.

Crystal: Do you have any special routine that you follow when you are writing?

Vivian: I usually play music in the background. However, I can write anywhere if needed. 

Crystal: Did you have to do a lot of research this book or any other?

Vivian: I had to visit some websites to get an understanding of what happens at a swingers club.

Crystal:Who are some of your favorite authors that you like to read?

Vivian: Michelle Simpson, Gillian Flynn and Lawrence Hill

Crystal: Is there a genre you haven't written that you would like to try?

Vivian: I’ll love to write a psychological thriller.

---

After many years of happiness, Moni Badmus's marriage is falling apart. Unwilling to lose her only child, a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl, to her husband in a custody settlement she goes along with his suggestion of an unconventional marriage intervention. Will Moni’s fear of losing what she holds dear take her to dark places she never imagined she would go?
Sam Badmus has lost his thirst for the things of God. For a while, his extramarital activities seemed to be a cure for his unsatisfying home life. But soon his risky behavior exacts a steep price and Sam has to turn to the God he left behind to save his family and maybe even his life.
Debo Ajala and his wife Adele are living the golden life or so it seems. Debo is a respected church deacon and Adele, a mother to their four adorable sons. Their lives couldn’t be better, that is until Adele’s feelings for another member of their church surface. Adele’s confession unleashes a series of events that Debo never expected. He escapes his troubled life by accepting a pastoral position in a city on the other side of Canada, but soon his twisted past catches up with him.
In this emotionally charged tale of sacrifice, temptation, and redemption, two couples learn sin has consequences and there is no place they can hide from the presence of God.

Genre: Christian Fiction

Buy Links:

Amazon | Author's Website 

Vivian Kay is a debut Christian author whose faith stories are woven around the themes of human fallibility, divine encounters and God's redemptive power. When she is not writing or daydreaming about writing, you’ll find her playing simultaneous games of online scrabble or snuggling up with a good book. A wife and mother, Vivian lives in a quiet corner of Canada’s banana belt.




Website | Facebook | Twitter

Tempted to Touch By Nigeria Lockley ~ GIVEAWAY

Tempted to Touch

By Nigeria Lockley

Release Date October 27, 2015

Author is giving away one autographed copy of Tempted to Touch and a $10.00 Amazon gift card. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. 











Kira Seagram is frustrated by her husband Mason’s zeal for the Lord, so she pours all of her attention into her work and reserves her soprano singing skills for the shower. Kira would rather not use them if she get can’t the adoration and recognition she feels she deserves and doubts she’ll find singing lead for Mason’s choir. When a routine drop off at her son, Nate’s private school turns into a ten-year reunion with her ex-boyfriend, Quincy McAdams, Kira isn’t interested in Mason's half-hearted affection or willing to keep her voice to herself. With a firm offer from Quincy to help Kira cut a demo and possibly revive the love they let die, Kira has some choices to make. When Kira finds herself tempted to touch will she remain faithful to her husband or yield to the desires of her flesh?

Publisher: Inheritance Books 
ASIN: B013W6BUIY
Genre: Christian Fiction

Buy Links:

Amazon | B&N | Smashwords



When I rounded the corner Meena, my secretary, was standing in front of her desk smiling and waving at me. Her attentiveness and bright smile cut right into my investigation into why my marriage was beginning to fail.

“Hi, Meena. Did you miss me?” I asked, referring to the way she was waiting to greet me like a lap dog.

“Mrs. Seagram, you’re so funny,” she said, swiping her wispy brunette hair out of her eyes. “I’m so excited to see you because I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you go into your office.”

“Ugh.” I groaned, letting my arms droop at my sides. “You didn’t redecorate again, did you?”

“No. While you were at lunch you received a delivery and it’s mighty extravagant. I hope that after I’ve been married for ten years my husband still does things like Mr. Seagram.”

“Thank you, Meena. I’m sure it’s nothing out of the ordinary,” I said as I walked past her desk. I turned the knob and my stomach dropped to my heels. On the other side of the door a tall medley of flowers and fruit curled into a G clef awaited me. A smile spread across my face as I approached this massive fruit salad structure. I fingered the petals of the black orchids and inspected the assortment of fruits—pineapple chunks, mangoes, and strawberries covered in white chocolate. All of my favorite things were neatly assembled on my desk. Mason must have thought there was another dog sniffing around his backyard.

“Excuse me,” I said to Meena who was still standing in the doorway gawking at the flowers as I picked up the phone and dialed Mason’s cell phone number.

He probably thought this massive floral arrangement would get me to join the choir and keep my affections at home. I would have preferred some new shoes. Shoot, for a new pair of Fendi pumps I’d churn out “I Go to the Rock” in a heartbeat and have them saints running up and down the aisle of our church in a minute.

“Praise the Lord!” Mason shouted into the phone when he answered. Why did he have to be all holy all the time?

“Hello, Mason.”

“What’s going on, my love? You usually don’t call me in the middle of the day.”

“You tell me what’s going on, Mason. Do you think that a little gallant gesture and some white chocolate will get me to work on the record with your choir?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. The floral arrangement—”

“Floral arrangement?” he queried, cutting me off.

“If you thought that an oversized wreath would get me to sing with that little gospel choir of yours, you’re wrong.”

“Kira, I did not send you any floral arrangement.”

Half listening to his spiel, I dug my hand into the center of the arrangement and removed the card. Without your voice my music is all blues and no rhythm. ~Q

I read the message again and flashes of heat coursed through my fingers. His vulnerability was sexy. Quincy McAdams had gone from a chemistry major to a music mogul and his life was still missing something. The words on the card spoke louder to me than Mason until he shouted into the receiver,

“Well, where did the flowers come from? I will not ask again.”







Nigeria Lockley possesses two master's degrees, one in English secondary education, which she utilizes as an educator with the New York City Department of Education. Her second master's degree is in creative writing. Nigeria's debut novel, Born at Dawn received the 2015 Phillis Wheatley Award for First Fiction. Nigeria serves as the Vice President of Bridges Family Services, a not-for-profit organization that assists student parents interested in pursuing a degree in higher education. She is also the deaconess and clerk for her spiritual home, King of Kings and Lord of Lords Church of God. Nigeria is a New York native who resides in Harlem with her husband and two daughters.

Website  | Facebook | Twitter

         

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Captured by Terri Haynes ~ GIVEAWAY

Captured

By Terri Haynes

Author is giving away One (1) autograph copy of Captured, a magnet and a bookmark. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. 

BLURB:

FBI agent Will Anderson is working his last human trafficking case before he leaves his painful past. Social activist Savannah Elliott thinks she has escaped hers by helping human trafficking victims regain their freedom. When a case unites them, can they overcome their scars and find love.

ASIN: B015DTKUX4

Publication Date: September 22, 2015

Genre: Christian Fiction/Romantic Suspense

Buy Links:

Amazon | B&N 

Author Info:

Terri J. Haynes, a native Baltimorean, is a homeschool mom, writer, prolific knitter, freelance graphic artist and former Army wife (left the Army, not the husband). She loves to read, so much that when she was in elementary school, she masterminded a plan to be locked in a public library armed with only a flashlight to read all the books and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. As she grew, her love for writing grew as she tried her hand at poetry, articles, speeches and fiction. She is storyteller at heart. Her passion is to draw readers in the story world she has created and to bring laughter and joy to their lives.
Terri is a 2010 American Christian Fiction Writers Genesis contest finalist, and a 2012 semi-finalist. She is also a 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Quarterfinalist. Her publishing credits include Cup of Comfort for Military Families, Crosswalk.com, the Secret Place Devotional, Urbanfaith.com, Vista Devotional, and Publisher’s Weekly.
Terri holds a Bachelor's Degree in Theology, a Master's degree in Theological Studies and a certificate in creative writing and graphic design, meeting the minimal requirements of being a geek. She and her husband pastor a church where she serves as executive pastor and worship leader. Terri lives in Maryland with her three wonderful children and her husband, who often beg her not to kill of their favorite characters.

Social Links:

Website |  Facebook   |   Twitter | Trailer

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Contest ends: October 9, 2015 11:59 pm

Open: Internationally

Terms and Conditions: NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. A winner will be randomly drawn through the Rafflecopter widget and will be contacted by email within 48 hours after the giveaway ends. The winner will then have 72 hours to respond. If the winner does not respond within 72 hours, a new draw will take place for a new winner. Odds of winning will vary depending on the number of eligible entries received. This contest is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook. This giveaway is sponsored by the author Terri J. Haynes and is hosted and managed by Paulette from Write Now Literary Book Tours. If you have any additional questions – feel free to send an email to Paulette @ pharperjohnson@gmail.com

Tour hosted by Write Now Literary www.wnlbooktours.com

What you Won't Do For Love By Keleigh Crigler Hadley ~ INTERVIEW ~ SPOTLIGHT

What You Won’t Do For Love

By Keleigh Crigler Hadley

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Interview:

Crystal: Today I have the pleasure of hosting Keleigh Crigler Hadley. Welcome Keleigh! I'm so happy to have you here today. Would you share a little bit about yourself with us today? 

Keleigh: I’m a girl who loves to see God work.

Crystal: Do you have a favorite scene you would like to share with us? 

Keleigh: Sure! 

What You Won't Do For Love
Chapter 1
“A hard head makes a soft behind.” That was the second to the last thing, Edward Price said to his only child, Eden. “So make wise choices using your heart, soul and mind.” The last thing he said, as his lungs rattled and he struggled to breathe was, “Take care of people, especially your mother.”
Back then, those were two difficult tasks to place on Eden’s fifteen year old shoulders, and eighteen years later, she was still struggling to comply.
Now, Eden stood, dressed in her favorite green scrubs in front of the vending machine, next to the triage station at New Mercies Hospital and contemplated her father’s dying advice. 
She tapped her chipped fingernails against the glass. She had achieved part of her father’s dying wish – she had become a nurse and lived to help people. 
But she seemed to fail in the second part, since she was behind in her payments to the run-down convalescent home her mother was living in. 
As for the second to the last thing…
Should she get the Kit Kat or the Mars Bar? Tough choice. They both would give her a softer, bigger, behind which she didn’t need. God had already given bountifully in that area. It’s the reason Eden wore a medium scrub top and a large scrub bottom. Her blessing and her curse. Eden sighed, blew a stray strand of curly auburn hair out of her face and slid a dollar into the machine. She keyed in E6 – the granola bar. 
Happy daddy?
But before the proper choice could fall, the emergency room doors glided open with a hiss and a young woman stumbled in with a semi-conscious older woman.
“Help me!” Before the young woman collapsed onto the yellow tile floor, she locked eyes with Eden and conveyed such a look of unknowable fear, Eden’s palms began to sweat. 
Eden’s body became a cauldron of tension. Her heart revved into overdrive, adrenaline flowed and her hunger forgotten as she scrambled to get a gurney. 
“The Pit is hopping tonight!” Another nurse exclaimed in response to the unusual number of critical cases, they had seen that night. 
“Can you tell me your name?” Eden helped the young lady onto the stretcher as the rest of the team assembled. Working swiftly and at life-saving speed, they placed both women on separate gurneys. 
As nurses checked her heart rate, blood oxygen, and breath sounds, Eden tried to get some information from her.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The young woman ran her fingers through her greasy and stringy brown hair. Her words spilled lazily out of her mouth. “Today’s my birthday. See?” The woman tried to point to a button in the middle of her shirt, but her aim was off and her finger landed on her chin. The button read, ‘Keep Calm, It’s Michelle’s 21st Birthday.’ “This isn’t right,” she slurred. “It’s my birthday!” She squinted her eyes as the bright overhead lights swung into place and the medical team began to poke, pull, prod and place things. 
Eden leaned closer and was almost knocked over by the pungent smell of alcohol. It was so strong it made her eyes water.
Eden turned to look over at the older woman, still unconscious on the gurney and saw another nurse scrunch her nose at the smell coming from her. In the pit of Eden’s stomach she knew death was close.
“Michelle, is that your name? Can you tell me what happened to your friend?”
The young lady wobbled her head back and forth. “Not my friend. That’s my mama.” Michelle stretched her hand out. “Mama!” She wailed.
Eden exchanged a glance with her best friend, Kym Chan, a Physician’s Assistant. Kym held up a blood alcohol meter that read .092, several points higher than the legal limit. Eden glanced over at the mother, whose skin has a light blue tinge, on the other gurney. Her alcohol level was .291. Her body was drowning in alcohol.
“Alright, what happened to your mother? What have you been drinking?”
“Her name is Grace,” Michelle’s red eyes began to water as her face contorted into pain, “and she’s amazing!” Then, her face morphed again and Michelle smiled and blinked slowly. “That’s the line she always gave cute guys.”
“What do we have here?” An attendee walked in as she applied gloves to her hands. 
A resident piped up, “The patient presented with blue tinged skin, hypothermia, and traces of vomit around her mouth. It looks like a case of severe alcohol poisoning. The older woman’s blood sugar levels are non-existent, and she’s unresponsive to pain stimuli.”
Michelle suddenly began to strain against the nurses attempting to start an I.V. She moaned again, and this time it was low, guttural and laced with regret. Eden knew she was going to hear that wail in her sleep tonight.
                                               ******************

Crystal: Where did you come up with the idea for What you Won't Do For Love?

Keleigh: The title went through a metamorphosis. :) 
1. How to Kill Your Husband: Step One
2. Favor Ain’t Fair
3. The Things We Do For Love. 

Crystal: What are you currently working on? 

Keleigh: A Christmas novella, The Million Dollar Christmas Kiss.

Crystal: Do you have any special routine that you follow when you are writing?

Keleigh: Chewing gum. Lots of gum.

Crystal: Did you have to do a lot of research this book or any other? 

Keleigh: I researched assisted suicide/euthanasia and the pros and cons.

Crystal: Who are some of your favorite authors that you like to read? 

Keleigh: Michelle Stimpson, Tiffany L. Warren, and Cythia Ruchti


Crystal: Is there a genre you haven't written that you would like to try? 

Keleigh: Mystery. A good, nail-biting mystery. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
About The Book:

Eden Price, an unlucky-in-love nurse finds herself in the midst of a heated love triangle. Globe-trotting missionary, Gabe Clark ignites her soul. Who doesn't want a man with a connection to God?  Hard-working, Nemo Gates speaks to her heart. His past has caused a rift between him and God and Eden wants to help him heal. 
 She ultimately chooses the man that makes her passions come alive, butdid she make the right choice? Her husband stuns her with a desperate plea; to prove her love for him in the most unthinkable way - to help him die with dignity.

Genre: Christian Fiction 
Book releases nationwide August 18, 2015 
Publisher: Brown Girls Publishing
ASIN: B013CIK60K

Amazon Buy Link
 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Excerpt:

“There goes that Price girl again.” Verdeen Washington exclaimed to her hard-of-hearing sister, Pearleen. They rocked in unison, in the twilight air on their front porch.
Eden Price noted the puzzlement in Verdeen’s booming voice as she steadily passed them by. Heck, the whole neighborhood could hear it.
“She’s a strange bird, if I ever saw one.” Pearleen looked over her thick glasses and pursed her wrinkled lips.
“Good evening, Washington sisters.”
Eden smiled, nodded and kept her legs pumping. She knew they shook their gray wigs as she passed them, but her jogging pace didn’t diminish and she kept on singing.
She knew she was a sight to see and hear.
“Wishing, and hoping and thinking and praying...
planning and dreaming each night of his charms…”
That’s it, Dionne.
Eden sang the tune to Dionne Warwick’s 1950’s classic song. The lyrics had been stuck on repeat in her head all day and the only way to get a song out, is to sing it. So in between breaths, she belted out the infectious tune.
So Dionne, is this the formula for catching a man?
The cushion in her Nike trainers flattened and rebounded as she reduced her pace from a slow jog to a brisk walk. She was two blocks from home and needed to start her cool down.
“...do the things he likes to do… wear your hair just for him… 'cause you won’t get him,
thinking,
and praying,
and wishing,
and hoping...”

Her worn out sports bra allowed too much jiggle and wiggle room for her girls. She could never hope to get a good run in anymore wearing three year-old running shoes and a five year-old bra, but budget constraints did not allow for such luxuries.
Eden adjusted ‘Ben and Jerry’ again to the safe confines of her bra, before she was arrested for exposing herself. Eden hunched over for a moment to catch her breath. Just a few more feet to go. She righted herself, hit her corner, and turned at the intersection of Third ave and 33rd place.
Three threes. The number meant something to her father, God rest his soul. It was his favorite number and one of the reasons he purchased a house on this block. But today, the number three held relevance to Eden too.
This was her thirty-third year of life, she was suffering from her third night of insomnia, and on March third, in three days her life would change - “for better or worse.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
About The Author:

Keleigh Crigler Hadley is an author, speaker, and teacher who is thankful God can use her messes for His glory.
She has always loved stories, and she believes the story of the Bible contains the biggest, the most redemptive dose of grace humankind has ever, and will ever, experience. She is the Christian Fiction author of the Preacher's Kids series, Revenge Inc., and What You Won't Do for Love with Brown Girls Faith.
If she were to define herself in one sentence, she would say, "I'm a girl who loves to see God working."  Keleigh writes soul-stirring fiction, with real characters that stay with readers long after they have closed the book, (or turned the e-reader off.)  The only thing she loves more than writing is reading, so contact her on social media and let her know what you're reading!


Connect With The Author:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/khadley11
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkeleigh
Amazon author profile: http://www.amazon.com/Keleigh-Crigler-Hadley/e/B002C1JDPI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1438718461&sr=1-2

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