Sam Cheever’s Mavim

SanguiBook2

She called out to him through time and space…an impossible dream…a hopeful imagining. Having heard her plea, he would not stop until he’d claimed her.

Mavim aches for the woman he left behind on Sanguinoss. She was a princess, a member of the royal family of elite vamps. His Amante…his love. Though he dreams of her every night, and pines for her every single day, he knows he cannot have her. He believes her dead.

But when Mavim intercepts the ghost of a communication from his lovely Fania, a communication which was probably engaged weeks or months earlier, he realizes she might still live!

Can Mavim find the only woman he’s ever loved and save her from an evil nemesis who covets her for his own and will stop at nothing to have her? Or will he finally look into his lover’s eyes…touch her satin skin…only to feel her slip from his grasp all over again?

flame

Mavim AgDurness closed his eyes and set his jaw against the ravening blood lust. His stomach growled its need, the muscles around it tightening as it twisted hungrily. He’d gone longer and longer without taking sustenance of late, so the debilitating hunger had become a nearly constant companion over his months on the primitive planet. Though the surface of the thriving alien planet called Earth was covered in walking, talking edibles, snacking from them was like eating nothing but mealfollows. All empty calories and no real sustenance.

Mavim snacked only when his body absolutely demanded it. And then only quickly, in the dark, with such a sense of revulsion he could barely keep the blood from boiling back up and spewing out on his shoes.

Always when he fed, he would see her face. So pale, so perfect. It was his undoing. For Mavim, no other female would do. None could take her place.

So he suspected he would simply fade away over time, as was the Sangui way of dying. And be launched into the sky for his final journey to Maja, protector of souls. Then his pain would finally end.

The comm unit spat sparks and sound flared briefly from it. Mavim’s head snapped up in surprise and crashed against the underside of the console. He swore in several intergalactic languages and pushed out from under the console, grabbing his tools as he moved into the open.

The ship’s communications had been fried when they crossed the atmospheric barriers to Earth, and he’d been trying to get them working again for months, scavenging resources from other parts of the ship and trying to repurpose things he’d managed to locate on Earth.

It had been long since the Sangui had heard from others of their kind. Though only a relative few had managed to escape the dying planet Sanguinoss, the small band of elite vampires living on Earth were keenly aware of the existence of others who’d escaped before the infection took them down.

And even more keenly aware of those who hadn’t managed to escape.

The lights on the comm flared to life and a blurry figure appeared briefly before snapping into blackness again.

It had spun too quickly through the visual cogs within the unit to be recognizable, but Mavim had been able to tell it was a woman.

Lights flared again. The same shape, slightly clearer this time, exploded onto the screen. “Mav…” Renegade star spikes ate the rest of the transmission, turning the words she spoke to a garbled mash. But Mavim had heard enough to make his pulse jump. He dropped his tools and slammed a hand over the comm, quickly adjusting levers until the image he’d seen flashed past again and then snapping a lock on the transmission before it could fitz away.

The pale oval staring back at him was marred by filth. The rich mahogany brown of her curls lank with oil. But the lush, cranberry lips were unmistakable.

The soft lilt of her bedroom voice distinctive.

Mavim had heard it every night in his dreams since he’d risked life and future to place her mangled form inside a burial capsule and send her on her final passage to Maja.

“Mav… Help… Gleschutions have tak…”

And there the transmission faded away, leaving behind only the terrified gaze of the woman he loved above all else. And the horrifying realization that she was in danger. And that she’d risked everything to try to get word to him.

Mavim touched the screen, tracing it with a shaky finger as tears slipped hot and unnoticed down his cheeks.

Blood tears.

Tears of deep, unending agony.

Then the comm blinked out again and her visage was ripped from his sight. Mavim threw back his head and roared, mad with the agony of her loss. Yet again.

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00X51A8IK/?tag=wwwsamcheever-20

Amazon.ca: http://www.amazon.ca/Mavim-Sci-Fi-Paranormal-Romance-Sangui-ebook/dp/B00X51A8IK/?tag=wwwsamcheev0d-20

Amazon.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mavim-Sci-Fi-Paranormal-Romance-Sangui-ebook/dp/B00X51A8IK/?tag=wwwsamcheever-21

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mavim-sam-cheever/1121794510?ean=2940151646529

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-mavim-1797023-343.html

Kobo Books: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/mavim

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/537175

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.

If you haven’t already connected, Sam would love it if you Liked/Followed her wherever you enjoy hanging out online. Here are her online haunts:

Newsletter: http://www.samcheever.com/newsletter.html
Website: www.SamCheever.com
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/samcheever
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamCheeverAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/samcheever
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/samcheever1/
Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/Samcheever

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Sara Daniel’s Haley’s Man

Haley’s Man, a new erotica short story by Sara Daniel, is now available.

She must choose between the man of her dreams and the man of her fantasies.

When Haley Miller posts on a sexual fantasies forum that she wants to have an orgasm while surrounded by her friends, one reply stands out. Intrigued and desperately aroused, Haley prepares for the orgasm of her fantasies.

But when she arrives at her friend’s party, she learns that the man of her dreams, Seth Gardner, is back in town. Now she must decide if she wants to go through with her plans for public pleasure or go after her dream date with Seth, or risk losing them both.

EXCERPT
The man turned and pinned her with a steady hazel gaze. His dark brown hair framed a strong, handsome face that she hadn’t seen in far too long. His lips curved in a lopsided smile.

She gasped. “Seth.”

“Haley.” Her name rolled off his tongue like one long delicious lick over her sex. He jumped to his feet, bringing himself eye-level with her—a good thing, since he’d been in a position to look directly up her skirt.

She scrambled to cover her own gawking. “You’re not wearing your glasses.”

“Contacts.” Not turning from her, he nudged the freezer drawer closed, rippling the ringlets of curly hair that hung past his ears. Without his wire-rimmed glasses, his sweet, safe image transformed into that of a dashing unpredictable man, leaving her disoriented and embarrassingly eager to discover the real man beneath his white dress shirt and pink-and-gray striped tie.

“Oh. Well, you look good.” As soon as the words were out, she wanted to kick herself. Way to come up with scintillating conversation, Haley. No wonder he never wasted his time chatting with her.

“So do you.” He tucked a strand of her wavy black hair behind her ear in a move that weakened the backs of her knees. “So who’s the lucky boyfriend right now?”

She loosened the knot of his tie, stalling for time. Her single status wasn’t in question, but a guy like him wouldn’t consider a woman available if she’d already booked an orgasm for the evening. Why couldn’t she hit on the right timing with Seth?

BUY LINK

To read excerpts from other books by Sara Daniel please click a vendor’s name Musa PublishingAmazon.

Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She battles a serious NASCAR addiction and was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels. She lives her own happily-ever-after romance with her hero husband, and she gets amnesia at least three times a day because she can never remember where she left her keys!

Learn more about Sara on her website and blog. Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter.

Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

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Giveaway: Seducing Kate

Let’s pretend it hasn’t been forever since I’ve posted something and go right to….hey, I’m giving stuff away!!!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Seducing Kate by Emilia Mancini

Seducing Kate

by Emilia Mancini

Giveaway ends May 20, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to Win

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New Release: The Road Leads Back by Marci Boudreaux

I know it isn’t the best topic for a “here’s my book” blog stop, but I have to confess, a few weeks ago I came to a startling realization. I had burn out. Not just “I don’t wanna” or “Maybe later…” I was done. Done with writing. Done with editing. Done with banging my head against the wall and never getting anywhere.

I’ve been in publishing for a while now. I’ve worked for small houses and large. I’ve had success and failure. Ups and downs. Saying publishing is a difficult business is like saying childbirth is a little bit painful.

But then an author I’ve worked with numerous times sent me a wonderful e-mail thanking me for believing in her and taking a chance on her work. That one little e-mail was like a kick in the pants. Suddenly, I remembered my job as an editor and a writer isn’t just about deadlines. There is so much more to what we do than rush to get things turned in on time.

We create. We stir emotions. And we (hopefully) inspire.

One thing I think I can learn from Kara Martinson, the heroine in The Road Leads Back, is to relax and just let life flow. Kara has definitely found her Zen (or at least she had until Harry Canton pops back up into her life and dredges up a past she’d rather forget). She’s pretty laid back and just kind of lets the world take her along for the ride.

I could never be that chill (yea, I know this about myself), but I am resolving to let the reins loose just a little. Breathe in. Breathe out. And enjoy the scenery.

the-road-leads-back_coverBlurb:

Kara Martinson and Harry Canton weren’t exactly high school sweethearts, but they did share one night neither will ever forget. Twenty-seven years later, Harry surprises Kara at an art gallery opening and discovers he left her with more than just memories when he went away to college. Desperate to connect with the family he never knew existed, Harry convinces his son to move to Stonehill—and pleads with Kara to come, too.

Kara hasn’t stepped foot in their hometown since the day she was sent away to a home for unwed mothers. Now Harry’s back in her life and as they put together the pieces of their parents’ betrayal, old heartaches start to feel anew. She wants to be near her family, but returning to Iowa means facing some things…and some people…she isn’t quite ready to.

Can Harry convince her to forgive the people who betrayed her so they can embrace the future they were robbed of so long ago? Or will the pain of the past be too much for Kara to overcome?

Preorder on Amazon!

Excerpt:

Kara squeezed her way toward the crowded bar, nudging between two kids who she couldn’t quite believe were old enough to be legally drinking in public. Shouldn’t they be funneling cheap beer in a college dorm somewhere? Or sneaking shots from Daddy’s liquor cabinet?

Art gallery openings used to be much more sophisticated than this. When she was a young artist, openings were about appreciating the art and the artist, not the free booze.

Shit.

Had she really gone there? Kara shook her head at her bitter thoughts.

The bartender, a walking tattoo with spiked black hair, leaned close so she could hear him. “What’ll it be?”

She realized all she wanted was wine. And quiet. The kids around her were acting more like pre-teens jacked up on sugar than art aficionados. One made a face, squished and reddened, as he held up an empty shot glass as proof of his triumph.

She wondered when she had gotten so damned old. She never used to snub her nose at a good drink. Actually, she completely understood what her problem was, and it had nothing to do with age. She’d conformed. She’d fallen into line. She’d done what she was supposed to do. Agent? Check. Gallery opening? Check. Interviews with all the local fancy-pants magazines? Check.

But this wasn’t her. None of this was her.

Frowning, she leaned in as well, making sure he heard her over the jeering of the kids next to her. “Tequila.” Within seconds he set a glass in front of her and filled it with amber liquid. He started to walk away but she held up one hand and lifted the glass with the other. She downed the drink, slammed the glass down, and gestured for another—one shot wasn’t nearly enough to numb the misery of this evening.

The young man lifted his brows and smirked as he gav­­­e her another shot. He laughed as she motioned for him to fill the glass a third time. “I can’t do this all night, lady.”

“One more.”

“Some of the crap in here costs more than my car. No puking. Got it?”

Kara chuckled. Clearly he didn’t recognize her as the artist who had made the crap. “Honey, I was doing tequila shots before your daddy dropped his pants and made you.”

The barkeep threw his head back and laughed, then filled her glass one more time. “Nice one, babe.”

Babe? Kara snorted as she lifted the glass. It was almost to her lips when a hand squeezed her shoulder.

“Kara?” asked a deep, smooth voice as if the man wasn’t certain who he was touching.

She turned. Her eyes bulged as she looked into an intense dark gaze she hadn’t seen since the night she’d lost her virginity.

The music had been loud, the beer lukewarm, and everybody who was anybody—and several nobody’s like Kara and Harry—in their senior class of Stonehill High was at the graduation party. The only person she had cared about, though, didn’t care about her. Or so she’d thought. Until she’d somehow ended up on Shannon Blake’s disgustingly pink- and ruffle-covered bed with Harry Canton, book club president and algebra superstar, clumsily removing her clothes, leaving slobbery kisses in their wake.

Kara swallowed hard as the flash of a memory faded, and the man standing before her, looking as shocked as she felt, came back into view.

She downed the liquor, slammed the glass against the bar, and sighed before she announced, “I’ve been looking for you for twenty-seven years.”

He sank onto the vacant stool next to her and lifted his hands as if he were at a loss for words. Something that appeared to be guilt filled his eyes and made his full lips sag into a frown. She’d be damned if temptation didn’t hit her as hard as it had when she was a hormonal teen.

“I wanted to tell you I was leaving,” he said, “but I didn’t know how.”

“You should have tried something like, ‘Kara, I’m leaving.’”

“You’re right. But I was a kid. I didn’t have a lot of common sense. All I could think about was how I finally had my freedom.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “You had your freedom? You selfish prick.”

His eyes widened. “Well, that might be a little harsh. I was just a kid, Kara. Yes, I should have told you I had no intention of staying with you, but I was a little overwhelmed by what had happened. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?

Harry’s shoulders slumped, as if he had given up justifying sneaking out on her in the middle of the night. “Look, I saw a flier for your gallery opening, and I wanted to say hello. I thought maybe… I don’t know what I was thinking.” He sounded hurt, dejected even. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He stood. She put her hand to his chest and shoved him back onto the barstool. The move instantly reminded of her their one night together. All of seventeen and totally inexperienced, she’d fancied herself a seductress and pushed him on the bed before straddling his hips like she had a clue what she was doing.

Touching his chest now, warmth radiated through her entire body.

She glared, pulling her hand away and squeezing her fingers into a fist. “Are you living in Seattle?”

He shook his head. “I had a conference in town. There were fliers at the hotel. As soon as I saw your picture, I knew I had to come.” His smile returned and excitement oozed from his face. “I can’t believe you have a gallery opening. This is amazing, Kare.”

She wasn’t nearly as thrilled by her accomplishment as he seemed to be. She felt like she was selling her soul instead of her art. She’d always preferred to go the indie route, but that crap agent had cornered her at a particularly vulnerable moment and convinced her she needed him…just like he convinced her she needed to be in a gallery. Although, now she was glad she’d conceded on the open bar.

The tequila swirled through her, making her muscles tingle, preventing her from fully engaging the near-three decades of anger she’d been harboring. She had spent an awfully long time wanting to give Harry Canton a piece of her mind.

Even so, hearing him say she’d done something amazing warmed her in a way very little ever had. If he had come looking for another one-night stand, she hated to admit that she would consider reliving that night again—only this time with more sexual experience and less expectation of him sticking around.

He might be almost three decades older, but his face was still handsome and his brown eyes were just as inviting as they had been when he was a high school prodigy and she was a wallflower.

She smirked at a realization: he was in a suit, probably having just left a corporate meeting, while she was wearing a red sari-inspired dress at her gallery opening.

He was still the straight arrow. She was still the eccentric artist.

“Did you hear what I said, Harry? About looking for you for the last twenty-seven years.”

His shoulders sagged. “I never meant to sleep with you that night. I mean”—he quickly lifted his hands—“I was leaving and should have told you before taking you upstairs. I shouldn’t have just left like that, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me again anyway. If it’s any consolation,” he said giving her a smile that softened the rough edges of her anger, “I’d been working up the courage to kiss you since junior year when you squeezed a tube of red paint in Mitch Friedman’s hair after he made jokes about Frida Kahlo’s eyebrows in art class.”

She frowned at him. That hadn’t been her finest hour. Then again, neither was waking up thinking she was starting a new life as a high school graduate and the girlfriend of the cutest boy she’d ever met, only to find the other side of the homecoming queen’s bed empty. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman embracing her natural beauty.”

His smile faded quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I shouldn’t have left you like I did. I hope you believe that I regret it. Not being with you,” he amended, “but leaving without explaining.”

She laughed softly. He’d had that same nervous habit in high school. He’d say what was on his mind and then instantly try to recover, afraid his words had come out wrong. Usually they had. For as awkward as she’d been, at least she’d always been able to say what she meant and to stand behind it. Of course, that ability got her in trouble more often than not.

She’d told herself a million times that Harry didn’t owe her an explanation. They hadn’t been in any kind of relationship. She’d drooled over him from afar, but other than an occasional smile in the hallway, he’d barely acknowledged her existence in high school. Even if he hadn’t gone off to start his Ivy League college career the day after graduation, he likely never would have looked at her again. Well, at least not until she could no longer hide the truth of their one-night stand from the world.

“I expected so much more from you, Harry,” she said sadly, the sting of what he’d done back then numbed slightly by the tequila.

His shoulders sagged a bit. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you ever write me back?” Her voice sounded hurt and pathetic. She was surprised that after so many years of being angry, there was still pain hiding beneath her fury. “I must have sent you a hundred letters.”

He creased his brow. “Letters? I didn’t get any letters.”

Kara searched his eyes. He looked genuinely confused.

“I sent them to…” Her words faded. Suddenly the tequila-induced haze wasn’t so welcome. “Your mother said if I wrote to you, she’d make sure you got my letters.”

“My mother? I never got any letters.”

“But you sent money.”

Harry shook his head slightly. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I send you money?”

She stared at him as realization set in. He hadn’t responded to her letters because he hadn’t received her letters. And if he hadn’t received the letters, he hadn’t sent her money. And if he hadn’t sent her money, he hadn’t known that she needed it. Sighing, she let some of her decades-old anger slip. Her head spun, either from the alcohol or the blurry dots she was trying to mentally connect. Leaning onto the bar, she exhaled slowly. “She never told you, did she?”

“Told me what?”

Kara couldn’t speak. Her words wouldn’t form.

An arm wrapped around Kara’s shoulder, startling her and making her gasp quietly. She turned and blinked several times at the man who had just slid next to her.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I need to get home.” Leaning in, he kissed her head. “Congratulations on the opening, Mom. It was great.”

“Um…” She swallowed, desperate to find her voice. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She flicked her gaze at the man sitting next to her. The longer Harry looked at her son, the wider Harry’s eyes became.

Phil cast a disapproving glance at Harry then focused on his mother again. “Don’t forget that Jess is expecting you to make pancakes in the morning. You promised.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Kara returned her attention to Harry. His jaw was slack and his cheeks had grown pale.

Phil nodded at Harry as if he were satisfied that he’d made the point that his mother didn’t need to be staying out all night and walked away. Harry watched him leave while Kara waved down the bartender and pointed at her glass. The tattooed kid hesitated, likely debating the ethics of giving her another shot. She pointed again, cocking a brow for emphasis, and he finally filled her glass.

“Kara…” Harry’s voice was breathless, like he’d been kicked in the gut. “Was…was that my…son?”

No. His mother definitely hadn’t given him the letters Kara had written. She lifted her shot, toasting him. “Congratulations, Harry. It’s a boy.”

About Marci:

Marci Boudreaux lives with her husband, two children and their numerous pets. Romance is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new and her husband doesn’t like when she does that in real life.

As well as writing erotica under her pen name Emilia Mancini, Marci is a content editor for Lyrical Press, an imprint of Kensington Publishing. She earned her MS in Publishing from University of Houston-Victoria in 2014 and worked with Des Moines publishing company Big Green Umbrella Media, Inc. as a freelance writer until she recently opted to focus on working in books.

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Cover Reveals

In a heartbreaking turn of events Musa Publishing has closed. Musa was home to me as an editor, intern, and author for over three years. My cohort in sexy crime, Vanessa North, had books there as well. Between the two of us, I believe eleven books have been pulled. Including my Seducing Kate. So sad!

Not only is it upsetting that these and other amazing books have lost their homes, but Musa really was a wonderful publisher. The directors of the company truly invested in their writers and staff. As a matter of fact, I guarantee I learned more from working and interning at Musa than I did in my two year master in publishing program. They took me in and gave much more than they received.

I’m not sure what Vanessa has planned for her now pulled books, but after yo-yoing quite a bit, I’ve decided on re-releasing my books. This has made for an insane week of rushing to get new books put together before so when my rights revert they are still available.

The rush? My new series is about to come out and Mama needs more than one book on the market. I don’t want to gain new readers and then have nothing else to offer. So, the decision was made. Imma jump right into self-publishing with both feet rather than tip-toeing like I was planning to do with the Stonehill Romance series.

And there’s no better way to do that than with a few cover reveals, right? (links are to Amazon pre-sale….still working on getting everything up and running, but soon, my pretties!)

First up, Seducing Kate:

Seducing Kate_510

Okay, not going to lie. I think this is a very yummy cover.

Next up, Marci’s sweet romance Forever Yours:

Forever Yours_510

Next…okay, this isn’t a new cover because I had made this one myself and they kept it, but up until now, this wasn’t available anywhere but Musa… The Legend of Sarah Latham.

SARAH LATHAM COVER_510

So now, you’re saying, “But, Em, that’s only three books…”

Yes, you are correct.

The Messenger will be keeping its cover because it was previously released through another company and when I got my rights back, I bought the cover art. Sure, I could redo it, and maybe I will once I have a few minutes to breathe (this week has been insanity). Right now, The Messenger has a re-release date of March 27 because it needs an editorial overhaul. With that, may come a new cover.

As for Unforgettable You, I’m going to incorporate that into my new Stonehill Romance series. I will be re-released in January 2016 with a similar, but slightly different cover.

And that’s that. There you have it. Out with the old, in with the new.

And please, tip your hat to Musa Publishing. They did amazing things. Publishing is just a bitch of an industry.

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Food! With Sam Cheever

from Sam Cheever

This recipe is so easy you’ll want to make it time and time again. Throw all ingredients into one pot, even the uncooked Pasta. All ingredients cook along with the pasta. And the really cool thing, in my opinion, is that there’s nothing exotic here. This is all stuff I always have on hand!

No Strain Tomato Basil Pasta
12 ounces pasta
1 can (15 ounces) diced tomatoes with liquid (Get creative and use seasoned tomatoes!)
1 large sweet onion, cut in thin strips
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
2 large sprigs basil, chopped
4½ cups vegetable broth (Not low sodium)
½ tsp. red pepper flakes
2 tsp. dried oregano leaves
2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
Parmesan cheese for garnish

Put the pasta, diced tomatoes, onion, garlic, and basil in a large pot and add the vegetable broth.

Sprinkle the pepper flakes and oregano over the top and drizzle with the oil.

Cover the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook covered for about 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes.

Cook off most of the liquid, then season to taste with salt and pepper.

You’ll want to stir the pasta several times to distribute the remaining liquid.

Garnish with the Parmesan cheese.

And here’s a little from my latest erotic romance to spice up your night.

Bitten by Paranormal Romance gives Cupid a
4 – A Pack Howl!

“This is a delightful and sexy story of competition not only in the office, but between a cupid and a demon.”

Long and Short Reviews:
“Cupid Only Rings Twice was a very cute story that was short but entertaining.”

This Valentine’s Day, Rori’s gonna meet an honest to god Cupid. And he’ll use more than arrows to win her love.

Rori Foster is too beautiful to find love. Men just can’t seem to look past her exterior to recognize the human being inside.

Unfortunately he’ll have to save her from the bad intentions of a cocky Love Demon first.
But Damios is determined to protect her. Even if he loses her in the process.

To read more or purchase Cupid Only Rings Twice please click the vendor’s name.

Musa Publishing | Nook | Kobo |
Sony | ARe | Kindle | Amazon.uk
| Amazon.ca

Sam Cheever writes mainstream romantic suspense and fantasy, all heat levels; and Declan Sands for M/M romantic suspense and fantasy. Her books are fast paced and fun loving. Not one of them will solve a single world problem, but you definitely won’t be bored while reading them!

Sam’s published work includes 40+ works of young adult, romantic suspense, and fantasy/paranormal. Her books have won the Dream Realm Award for fantasy, been nominated and/or won several CAPAs, were nominated for Best of 2010 with LRC and The Romance Reviews, and won eCataromance’s Reviewer’s Choice award. She is published with Ellora’s Cave, both Romantica and Blush; Changeling Press; Electric Prose Publications (her own imprint), Musa Publishing, and Red Rose Publishing.

She lives on a hobby farm in Indiana with 11 dogs, 2 horses, and one husband.

Learn more about Sam Cheever on her blog Eclectic Insights. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. You can also find Sam on Goodreads.

LABELS
Cupid Only Rings Twice, erotic romance, Musa Publishing, Sam Cheever, pasta, spaghetti,

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Sara Daniel Loves Romance

Why I Love Reading and Writing Romance

by Sara Daniel

1. The Love Story: Obviously, right? I love to read about two people who care about each other so much that they’ll fight for each other. I love that they believe in each other more than anyone ever has before or will again. There is something so satisfying, so heartwarming to watch two characters fall in love, usually against their will, and rise above all the conflict to live out that love they deserve.

2. The Emotions: No other genre does the roller coaster of emotions like romance. One minute I’m laughing at a particularly witty line of dialogue, and the next I’m sobbing as the hero or heroine takes a figurative (and occasionally literal) punch to the gut. Does your life feel stale and blah? For the hours that you’re reading a romance, you’re living the gentleness of the hero caressing your cheek, the frustration of that one person who always has to make life difficult, the thrill of finally giving said person their comeuppance, the sweetness of a first kiss, the stark terror of falling for the person who could cause you to lose everything, and absolute joy of spending forever with the love of your life.

3. The Happily Ever After: Of course, we all know how a romance novel ends. The hero and heroine get together and live happily ever after. Some people scoff at this guarantee, but it is my number one reason why I will always read and write romance novels. Every day you can pick up the newspaper and read about a life that ends in tragedy. In our own lives and in the lives of our friends and neighbors, there are problems that we can’t wave a wand and make everything magically turn out okay. Who needs to read about more pain, suffering and general cynicism? Definitely not me. Instead, sit down for a couple hours and escape to a romance. Vicariously conquer every roadblock thrown at you. Best of all, no one can take away your happily ever after when you reach the end.

See what I mean with this short intro to one of my favorite books.

Nicole trusted Wyatt with her heart once. She won’t make the same mistake twice.

Nicole DeMonde’s car breaks down the moment she returns to her hometown for her brother’s wedding. The cop who stops to help her is none other than local hottie Wyatt Truman, who slept with her then dumped her when they were teens. She has no choice but to accept his help. However, she knows better than to trust him with her heart twice.

Wyatt is determined to earn Nicole’s forgiveness and make amends for his callous past. Once he lays eyes on her, he can’t help wanting a lot more than forgiveness, despite his intention never to hurt her again.

Just as Wyatt starts thinking his best intentions are of the forever variety, Nicole decides to work Wyatt out of her system with a one night stand. Can either of them make peace with the past in a single weekend, let alone survive with their hearts intact?

To read an excerpt from Wyatt’s Guilt, please click HERE.

Sara Daniel writes what she loves—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She lives her own happily-ever-after romance with her hero husband.

Learn more about Sara on her website and blog. Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter. Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

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