Showing posts with label Naomi Clark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Naomi Clark. Show all posts

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Nathan Slater forces his way into her life and her problems. He's going to fix things, whether she likes it or not. #newrelease #MCromance @AmberMothling @evernightpub


Thank you for having me today! I'm so excited to share SLATER'S CLAIM with everyone! This is book three in my Wild Blood MC series, and it really marks a change for the boys of Wild Blood as I up the stakes, expand the world, and throw a whole lot of trouble at everyone!

But the most important part of the book is, of course, the love story! Slater and Freya have a rocky road to happiness, but don't worry - I make sure they get there! Of course, it wouldn't be much fun if there wasn't some drama on the route...


She won't be tied down.

Freya can't afford commitment. She's deep in debt to a dangerous man and she refuses to drag anyone else into her mess. But Nathan Slater is forcing his way into her life and her problems—and Freya has to admit, she kinda likes it.

He won't be told no.

Slater is used to being in control. Freya Markham is testing his limits. But Freya's problems could destroy her, and Slater just can't let that happen. He's going to fix things, whether she likes it or not.

Be Warned: public exhibition





Grab your copy of SLATER'S CLAIM today!






Excerpt

This is good, she told herself, searching desperately for a silver lining. The more money Sammy took, the quicker she paid off her debt. She wished her first private customer had paid up. Bitterness stole through her as she headed back into the club. He'd been hot as hell, unexpectedly so, with that messed-up dark hair and smooth voice. Watching him get off to her dancing had been a powerful aphrodisiac that she hadn't found with any of the other guys she'd performed for tonight.

But then the asshole had stiffed her, and because he'd said he was with security, she'd been too afraid to ask Benedict about the missing money. For all she knew, he could be one of Sammy's guys.

She hobbled wearily across the empty dance floor. It was nearly three in the morning, and all the waitresses and other dancers were gone. A couple of cleaners mopped the floor and collected glasses. With the stage lights off and the stark house lights up, the club looked tawdry and soulless, and that was how Freya suddenly felt as well. All the eroticism and triumph had fled her, gone along with the money she'd earned.

She wished Sefina had stuck around. It would have been nice to share a ride home with her and commiserate – although she doubted Sefina was giving up most of her earnings to Sammy.

One of the bouncers, a Jamaican guy with long dreadlocks, was outside smoking when she left. She nodded at him in greeting, hugging herself. The pre-dawn air was crisp and cool, pleasant enough now when she was still so warm from dancing all night, but she knew she'd be shivering before long.

“You got a ride?” the bouncer asked her.

She shrugged. “I was going to walk.”

He eyed her outfit. She was back in jeans and a t-shirt, but still in heels, because she'd stupidly thought she was too used to walking in heels for it to bother her. A lesson learned: walking in heel was one thing, dancing in them was another entirely.

“Call a cab,” he said. “I'll wait with you.”

She thought of the slim stack of notes in her purse, then thought of the forty-minute walk back to her apartment and decided a cab was a better plan. While she called a local firm, she looked the bouncer over more carefully, noting the leather vest he wore under his hoodie. There was a simple patch at the bottom, black with white letter. Prospect.

“You're in an MC?” she asked when she hung up.

“Yes ma'am,” he said.

“You and the other guys that were here when I auditioned?”

He nodded, taking another drag on his cigarette that made the cherry-red tip glow hot in the darkness.

“So you know the guy, the brown-haired guy? Tall, big...arms?”

He gave her a knowing grin. “Slater? Yeah, I know Slater.”

She mulled on that. Being in a MC didn't mean Slater had no connections to Sammy. She didn't pretend to be an expert, but whenever she saw anything about MCs in the news, it was invariably bad. Turf wars, drugs, gun-running... The knot in her stomach twisted a little tighter.

“You want me to pass a message to him?” the bouncer asked, a teasing note in his voice.

Freya frowned, scanning the empty road for her cab. “No,” she said firmly. “Absolutely not.”


And you can pick up the first two books in the Wild Blood MC series, TANNER'S WAR and WOLF'S HUNT, today too!

Where to find Amber


Tuesday, September 5, 2017

New #FFromance from @naomi_jay and @evernightpub Read a #teaser #lesbian fiction



Thanks for having me here today! I'm excited to share my latest Romance on the Go, ON A DARK TIDE, a story I constantly (and probably annoyingly) referred to as the Creepy Ocean Story whilst writing it. I'm a mermaid at heart. I love the ocean, whatever the season, whatever the weather. Nothing makes me feel as at peace or inspired as sitting by the shore. ON A DARK TIDE is one of several stories and books I've written with the ocean at its heart, and it won't be the last.

ON A DARK TIDE also let me touch on something else I love – true crime and unsolved mysteries. I have a fairly long commute to work each day, and I usually pass the time by listening to podcasts. Delving into truly strange and puzzling stories of disappearances helped me shape the background of Piper and Cam's story, and hopefully you'll enjoy delving into the mystery of Dina Mackay with them!

Blurb
True crime podcasters Piper and Cam have travelled to the sleepy seaside town of Findlay to investigate the disappearance of a woman nearly a decade ago. The theories are wild—everything from murder to mermaids, and Piper is determined to get to the truth. Battling her fear of the ocean, Piper soon realizes Findlay has deeper, darker secrets than she could ever have believed. As she struggles to master her fear and deal with her unrequited love for Cam, Piper is lured into perilous waters. The truth waits beneath the waves—and Piper's fate waits with it.

Be Warned: f/f sex

Excerpt

“Cam,” Piper said again, almost wailing it as Cam took off back up the shore toward the town. Piper started after her, got her feet tangled in those grabby strands of seaweed, and toppled over. She landed face-first in the sand, grit and water-worn stones digging into her palms. “Shit!”
            She lay there for a few seconds, berating herself for being so stupidly tongue-tied. Then she picked herself up and hugged herself against the bitter cold wind rushing off the waves. She could fix this.
            All she had to do was run after Cam and say … something. She didn’t know what, though. She still wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened. What Cam had expected to happen.
            But she wouldn’t find out hanging around on the beach, would she?
            She started walking, the distant lights of the town guiding her. She and Cam had come further than she realized, and night had swept in while they walked. She couldn’t even see Cam’s silhouette up ahead. But she couldn’t have gotten far, surely. Piper had only been down a minute.           Piper cupped her hands to her mouth. “Cam? Cameron!”
            There was no answer. The wind shrieked down the bay, suddenly wild, and Piper flashed back vividly to her dream last night. She wondered if that’s all it had been, a howling gale invading her dreams. She glanced out across the ink-dark waters of the bay, watching the white caps rise and fall as the tide drove in. It was too easy to imagine being tossed around in those wild waves, mouth full of salt, lungs burning, body sinking and rising at the will of the water. It was too easy to imagine Dina Mackay walking into the sea...
            Piper shivered, unsure where the idea came from. The wind rose and fell in strange harmony, filling her head with shipwrecks and yellowed bones polished by centuries of sand and water. She stopped looking for Cam, entranced and disturbed by the song of the bay. It did sound like voices, eerily so. Sweet, inhuman singing as the wind ripped through hidden caves and over knee-high banks of marram grass.
            Dina could have heard that beautiful, awful music the night she went missing. She could have walked out of the Lobster Pot, just like Piper had tonight, pleasantly buzzed, and thought she heard voices down on the shore, out in the water.
            Piper didn't remember moving, but the water lapped at her feet now, so either she’d moved or the tide had. She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. The singing swirled around her, warming her where the wind had chilled her. The water washed over her canvas shoes, soaking in and anchoring her to the shore. The singing pulled at her, dragged at her, as inexorable as the ocean.

Available now from
Evernight Publishing - https://tinyurl.com/ybkmr3l7


About the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online:

Twitter - @naomi_jay



Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Fab new #urbanfantasy from @naomi_jay and @evernightpub Read a #teaser



Thanks for having me today! I’m so excited to be sharing my new release, LICH QUEEN, book three in the Blood Canticles series. Anyone who had to deal with me while I was writing this book (friends, family, co-workers) will know I was completely obsessed with it. I love writing Dawn, and her story has so many elements I just love writing in general – ghosts, private eyes, and creepy shenanigans! And anyone who had to deal with me while I was waiting to hear if the book had been accepted, knows I was a total bundle of nerves the whole time (my fiancĂ© is a patient man). For some reason I was convinced I’d get a “no” on this one. Don’t ask me why. It just seemed like maybe Dawn’s story, which gets bleak, might not be a good fit.
But it’s not just bleak! Like the other Blood Canticles books, there’s friendship, mystery, action, and a lot of coffee. If you like your urban fantasy filled with those things (and a side order of zombies, vampires, and demons), you’re going to love LICH QUEEN just as much as I do ;)

You can find the complete Blood Canticles series, in reading order, at my blog here - http://naomiclarkwrites.blogspot.co.uk/p/blood-canticles.html

Blurb
Magic has ruined Detective Dawn Hardy's life.

Her partner is dead, her career is on the rocks, and Dawn fears she herself may no longer be human.

While she struggles with the aftermath of a vampire attack, dead bodies are going missing around Fort Rosser. A demonic plot is brewing, and Dawn and her friends may be the only ones who can stop it. If they can stop fighting each other. And if Dawn can conquer the growing darkness inside herself.

Vampires and demons were just the beginning.


Excerpt

They had to press themselves to the wall to get around the zombie. Dawn kept her gun trained on it the whole time, just in case, but it didn't so much as twitch. It felt like stopping it had been too easy. Her nerves were singing by the time they reached the landing. Another dark hallway stretched out before them, dented metal doors on either side. Dawn noticed with a chill that a lot of the doors looked like the damage had come from the inside.
"There's an open unit up ahead," she told Rhys, watching Eddie drift along, leaving a trail of caramel-tobacco in his wake. "They let some of the less dangerous patients mix freely during the day."
They'd been in there, on that long-ago murder investigation. It was a big enough room, still lined with basic tables and chairs where patients could sit and read, or play card games, or just ... sit. It was a favorite spot for urban explorers to visit, because the masonry was still pretty sound, but the room itself was a wreck, offering the right balance of damage and security for would-be YouTube stars.
"Bet you ten dollars that's where she is, then," Rhys said. "I can feel it. You?"
Was she supposed to? Seeing ghosts was bad enough, Eddie excluded. She didn't want to start 'feeling' zombies. She shook her head, focusing on Eddie again.
Sure enough, he stopped by the door to the open unit. Those demonic symbols were gouged into the door, deeply scarring the metal. Her pulse raced as adrenaline flooded her. She could hear something on the other side of the door – a muffled mix of footsteps and low, strained voices. She adjusted her grip on her gun, palms sweaty. She carried a standard-issue Glock, six rounds. It had always felt like enough before tonight. Now she was down to three.
"Any last minute advice on dealing with the undead?" she whispered to Rhys.
"Don't," he said.
She wished he didn't think he was so funny. Eddie beckoned her to the door, giving her a look she knew well. Caution, mixed with determination. She didn't need to hear him speak to know what he was thinking. Go time, Dawn.
She nodded at him.
Isaiah's mocking laughter filled her head.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair...
"So cliché," she said, earning a strange look from Rhys. She answered him with a smile that felt unpleasant. "Go time," she said, and eased the door open.

Buy Links


About the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online:

Twitter - @naomi_jay


Saturday, May 27, 2017

Turiel has lost his wings #newrelease erotic #PNR from @evernightpub and @AmberMothling

Hello! Thank you for having me today and letting me share a teaser from my new release, BLOOD OF ANGELS. I loved writing about my Southern belle, Thea, and her fallen angel, Turiel. There's something so appealing about writing an angel as a romantic hero. I'm not sure what it is – maybe a sense of the taboo? Angels are supposed to be pure, spiritual beings, after all, not the kind to get down and dirty with us mere mortals. Is that why we love reading and writing about angels discovering love and sex? Or is there just something irresistible about a man with wings?

Well, sadly, Turiel has lost his wings, but I think if you asked him, he'd say it was worth it for what he finds with Thea... ;) I hope you love reading their story as much as I loved writing it!


Thea Clayton knows her life isn’t normal. But even she wasn’t prepared for an angel to fall through her roof.

Turiel gave up his place in Heaven to experience true sensations for the first time in his immortal life. He didn’t realize that meant pain as well as pleasure.

Thea isn’t the only person who knows Turiel has fallen. The blood of angels is a precious thing. And some people will do anything to steal it.

Buy it now!



Excerpt

Turiel reached down between his legs, stroking himself with slow, leisurely movements. His eyes fell shut, his shoulders relaxing, and she was reminded of nothing so much as a cat basking in the sun, warm and lazy. She watched his hand move, watched his shaft stiffen, and wondered if it was an invitation to her. Last night he'd seemed so broken, so lost, too much so for her to contemplate sex. A few hours' sleep shouldn't make that much difference. He still was what he was. A miracle, a masterpiece, a fallen angel...But he was somehow also a man.
She felt like driftwood on the seas, battered around by her conflicting emotions. He opened his eyes again, watching her watch him. A slow, shy smile spread across his face. "I trouble you."
It took her two attempts to answer, and when she did, her voice was throaty and trembling. "In a way."
"I don't want to upset you, Thea."
"I'm not upset." She was spellbound. He was no Louis Lee, that was for sure. She wanted to wrap her hands around his thick cock, wrap her lips around it, taste that silken, golden skin. She wanted it with a fierceness that was too much to handle and yes, it troubled her.
"I can leave," he said.
"You still don't have any clothes," she said.
"Does that trouble you? You seem preoccupied by it."
He was teasing her. There was a studied insouciance in his voice and she found herself smiling. "I am hopelessly preoccupied by your lack of clothes, absolutely."
He bit his lip and reached out for her. He took her hand in his and guided it to his waiting shaft. Thea gasped, breathless, as her fingers closed around him. Velvet and warm, he was, like a well-aged whiskey made flesh, and she closed her eyes as she stroked him, enthralled. She felt reckless, careening towards a cliff-edge with every touch. This was the madness that would take her, she 
decided. Not alcohol or paranoia, but the searing touch of angel's flesh.
He closed his eyes, expression rapturous. "You will make me mad," he murmured.

She said nothing, growing bolder and firmer in her strokes, revelling in the knowledge that she was pleasing him. This work of art, this divine creature, who surely could have fallen anywhere in the world and had men and women flock to him, he was here with her, and it was her hand, her touch putting that shine in his face, stirring his body. It was a powerful knowledge and it lead down a dangerous path. What else could she do? What else did she dare do?
It might have been enough to stay like that forever, him kneeling in a tangle of bed sheets, Thea laying alongside him, her hand caressing his cock with an ever-increasing possessiveness. Turiel sighed and whispered in that fluid, alien language, and she had a sense of time crystallizing around them like sap into amber. They would stay perfect and preserved like this forever, and that might be enough...but he made her hungry and he wanted to feel, to touch, and there was so much more she could show him...


About Amber

Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She's based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man, one adorable cat, and one sulky snake.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

From guest author @naomi_jay new release #FF #PNR In Cold Blood @evernightpub

Hi there! Thanks for having me today and letting me share a bit about my new release, IN COLD BLOOD. This is a spin-off from my Urban Wolf series, set in the same world but featuring new characters. My goal with every entry in the Urban Wolf series is to open the world up a little bit more. SILVER KISS gives us a good, solid starting point with werewolves. BLOOD HUNT introduces vampires. PHANTON FEARS teases the idea of ghosts, and COLD NIGHT MOON gives us fae creatures (or one, at any rate). With IN COLD BLOOD, my idea was that, well, someone had to be noticing all these weird and wonderful creepy beasties. And someone would be keeping notes...

This will tie directly into the plot of the next Urban Wolf book, which will take us back to Ayla and Shannon. The circle of life, etc. IN COLD BLOOD is the first of a planned trilogy about Phoebe, Aisling, and the Luporum. I already have book 2 mostly planned out (in my head, anyway), but my aim is write that Ayla and Shannon book first. So if you enjoy IN COLD BLOOD, rest assured that there'll be more from my socially awkward werewolves in love - and the Urban Wolf series in general! - in the future :) Happy reading!

You can find the complete Urban Wolf series, in reading order, at my blog here.



Phoebe Fairley wanted to be a librarian. Somehow, she’s become a vampire hunter. Women are dying across the country and the police are baffled. Phoebe’s just supposed to be gathering information on the deaths, but as the body count mounts, she can’t help but break the rules and get involved. She knows what the killer is—and catching and containing it is vital. If she can persuade the police to believe her, and keep her secretive bosses happy, she stands a chance of capturing a very real, very deadly vampire. Not bad for a werewolf who can’t shapeshift.

Aisling is happy living as a feral wolf. She’s got no time for human affairs, until a mysterious creature attacks her and leaves her in human hands. Now, if she wants her life back, she’ll have to join Phoebe’s hunt. There are just a couple of snags. One, she hates humans. And two, she’s falling hard for Phoebe. With a monster to catch and her own past to protect, will Aisling trust her head or her heart? 


Excerpt


The scene inside the barn was surreal. Two big floodlights overhead lit the barn in glaring white. Half the huge space was taken up with sheep, penned off from the drama but still hysterically bleating and milling together. A grizzled man in a tattered dressing gown and Wellington boots – surely the farmer – leaned into the pen, talking non-stop to the frightened animals. Bales of hay were piled high around the rest of the barn, looking to Phoebe like they might come toppling down any second. They formed a rough arena for the main drama. Two more men held down a naked woman. She thrashed in their grip, tossing her matted red hair and snarling with a viciousness that made Phoebe’s wolf cower. This was their victim, this mad, wild thing?

Spalding hurried over to the farmer and Gibbs ran to the paramedics. They had to be wolves, from the strength they were displaying, but the woman was making them work to keep her still. Phoebe hesitated before following Gibbs – at a distance. Observe, Spalding had said. That was fine. Observing was all she was meant to do. The question was, what exactly was she seeing? The victim of a vampire attack or a feral wolf gone mad? She couldn’t help but lean towards the latter. Perhaps the woman thought the sheep would be easy pickings, but something had gone wrong. Maybe she’d been startled by the farmer or a guard dog. Phoebe had noticed a kennel outside the barn, although there was no sign of a dog now.

As she got closer, she saw the woman’s hands and feet were caked in mud, and there were thin red scratches all over her pale skin. Dried blood on her chest, too, although her endless thrashing made it hard to see where the original wound was. She stopped a few feet away, watching as Gibbs crouched down before the woman and – daringly, Phoebe thought – gripped her chin firmly. She was surprised he didn’t get his fingers bitten off.

The woman growled but couldn’t pull free of Gibbs’ hold. He growled right back, with a force and venom that made Phoebe quake. Did they teach that in training?

For a minute, the pair seemed locked in battle, the woman struggling against all three men in vain while she snarled at Gibbs. He didn’t flinch or loosen his grip, and kept his own domineering growl rumbling on, rising in pitch. The sheep grew more frantic and both the farmer and Spalding yelled at them with a mixture of anger and desperation. Phoebe felt battered, all the noise and tumultuous emotion like an assault. She wanted to run. She forced herself to stay, watching as Gibbs tried to inflict his will on the woman.

As much as pop culture got muddled with myth, some things were always true, just as much for wolves as humans. Some people were simply more dominant than others. Gibbs’ laid-back, clownish persona was all gone now as he pinned the woman down with both his body and his eyes. Phoebe would have caved already, if she’d even had it in her to resist. The woman, whatever her mental state might be, was not so easily dominated. But after what felt like an age, she slumped, stopped fighting, and went still.


 Buy Links 

Evernight
Amazon US
Amazon UK

About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online

Blog
Facebook
Twitter - @naomi_jay

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

She found herself caught in a horror story #FF #PNR from @naomi_jay #teaserTuesday @evernightpub

Thank you for having me today! I'm here with my new Romance on the Go, THROWN TO THE WOLVES. This story was partially inspired by an article I read on Romania's Hoia Forest earlier this year. It's long been famous for paranormal activity, from UFO sightings to the strangely shaped trees. Some people believe it's a gateway to another dimension, whilst others say it's haunted by the ghost of murdered peasants. There's a rich history of folklore and urban legend growing there, and so what better place to set a paranormal tale?

I've stayed away from UFOs and ghosts, though, and instead gone with vampires and werewolves. Well, it is Romania! In THROWN TO THE WOLVES, aspiring author and tattooed tomboy Paige goes hunting for inspiration. And she finds it...along with danger, ancient enemies, and of course, love. I hope you'll enjoy my little venture into the Hoia Forest!



Paige went to Romania looking for inspiration for a book. She found herself caught in a horror story. Attacked and left for dead by a vampire, Paige finds herself at the mercy of Kata, a beautiful, enigmatic werewolf. Their attraction is instant, but Paige's fate hangs in the balance. She may yet be turned into a vampire herself. Soon it's clear to Paige that the only way to save herself may be to return to the woman who attacked her...even if it means placing both herself and Kata in the greatest danger.


Buy Links 




Excerpt

This was her rescuer, she guessed. She'd gone from the jaws of a wolf to the bed of a woman, so someone had rescued her. But there was nothing about this woman that said “safe” or “friendly.” She was regal, imposing, and her silence was intimidating. But Paige didn't have it in her to sit meekly and say nothing. For all she knew, she could be worse trouble now, with this woman, than she'd been out in the woods or with the creature she'd fled in the first place.

The memory of the woman who wasn't a woman made her shudder, and she touched her throat. She felt dried blood and a dull ache, and it forced her to speak.

"What are you?" she asked.

It was probably the wrong thing to say. She should have said thank you, or asked where she was, or even asked the woman's name. But those questions didn't matter even a tiny fucking bit. Not after the nightmare she'd found herself in.

The woman laughed, a rich sound that made Paige think, incongruously, of sticky toffee pudding. "You are smarter than I thought," she said in heavily-accented English. "When you see a woman lost in these woods at night, you don't think she can be very smart."

Unnerved, Paige sat up slowly, pulling the rough duvet up with her. She was still fully clothed, she realized, but the duvet gave her a sense of security anyway. Stupid, but true.

"My name is Kata," the woman continued. She turned to a small, rough-hewn table at the bedside. A jug of water and a glass sat there, and she filled the glass before offering it to Paige.

Paige ignored it, despite the dry thirst gnawing at her. "I didn't ask your name."

Kata gave her a mock innocent look, eyes wide. "Sorry. Perhaps my English is not so good."

Paige thought Kata's English was probably fine, certainly better than Paige's Romanian. "What are you?" she asked again, louder and slower this time, in that ignorant manner so many Brits abroad used that she hated. Her voice shook as she spoke, but she managed to hold Kata's gaze and she was proud of that.

Kata set the glass down and pointed to the wound on Paige's throat. "You have seen things already tonight I think you would not believe, yes? So I will ask you, what do you think I am?"

Her voice was gentle, with genuine curiosity in the question. And Paige thought about it, and thought she could fall into hysterics or rage, deny what her heart already knew and claim it was impossible. It would be easy—nice, even—to do that, because twelve hours ago, she would have said it was impossible, and she would have laughed at anyone who told her otherwise.

The problem was, hysteria and denial never helped. Staying calm, acknowledging the problem and finding a solution, that was what helped, whatever the situation. And besides, wasn't the bite at her throat proof that it wasn't impossible? Wasn't passing out in front of a wolf and waking up in front of a woman just further proof? Impossible wasn't impossible anymore.

So she said the impossible words. "I think you're a werewolf."

About the Author

Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online

Blog - http://naomiclarkwrites.blogspot.co.uk/
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/naomijclark?ref=bookmarks
Twitter - @naomi_jay


Tuesday, June 21, 2016

From @naomi_jay and @evernightpub #newrelease #PNR Night and Chaos


Welcome to guest author Naomi Clark

I love a good reunited lovers story. There's so much scope for drama and emotion, misunderstandings, rediscovery, and good old-fashioned lust. NIGHT AND CHAOS has all those things, as Ryan is thrown back together with Jackson, the man she abandoned six years ago. You'll learn her reasons for doing so...Whether she can convince herself and Jackson that she made the right choice is another story!

Ryan and Jackson's journey is only just beginning, and I've got two more books to write before they get their ending (happy or otherwise...), but I hope this first book will persuade you to come on that journey with them.

Blurb
Ryan's past isn't just haunting her. It's trying to kill her.

Ryan McCarthy fled Kimberlyn Island, her father, and her lover six years ago, desperate to build a life away from the weird science and supernatural experiments of her childhood. But everything she hoped to escape comes back with a vengeance when she's kidnapped and tortured by a possessed madman out for revenge on the man responsible for his possession: Ryan's father.

Now, reunited with the lover she abandoned, Ryan is forced back into a world of danger and darkness she no longer understands, pursued by enemies with powers she can't fathom. But Ryan's not entirely powerless herself. She'll have to use every trick she knows—as well as the mystic gift she hates—to stay ahead of those enemies. And that will be easier said than done.



Excerpt

Jackson’s eyes shone in the dark when he turned to look at me. “You awake?” he asked.
            I considered pretending to be asleep, decided it wouldn’t achieve anything. “Yes.”
            “You okay?”
            I considered that too, not sure of the answer. “I don’t know. I’m exhausted. That’s all I can really say for sure right now.”
            He was quiet for a while, just breathing softly again, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Then he said, “I didn’t mean to bully you into coming to London, you know. If you want to stay here...”
            “No, I want to come,” I cut in. “I can’t stay here.” Alright, that probably didn’t spin it in the best light, but Jackson didn’t seem to notice the back-handed compliment.
            “I’m glad you’re coming. I’m glad you’re here. It’s not exactly how I imagined our reunion, but I’m still glad.”
            I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he was smiling. Despite myself, I had to smile back. “And how did you imagine it? Us running across flower-filled meadows to kiss in the rain?”
            “I don’t know, really.” There was a rustle of material and he pulled himself out of his makeshift bed of bundled-up towels and clothes and sat up, arms resting on his knees. He stared away from me now. “I guess I always figured you’d come home eventually.”
            I twisted onto my side, propping my head up on my hand and tangling my fingers in my hair. “I wouldn’t have,” I whispered, heart aching for him. Why did he wait? Had he really believed I’d come back, knowing how much I hated Kimberlyn and APTT? Surely not. Guilt lanced me, like I’d stolen something from him. I suppose I had, in a way. Six years of his life, wasted on waiting for me.
            “Didn’t I make you happy enough?” he asked.
            My throat closed up and tears stung my eyes. “Jackson, don’t.”
Buy Links

All Romance Ebooks - http://tinyurl.com/jfxyk93

About the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she's not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she's hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn't available, she's with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.

Find me online:

Twitter - @naomi_jay