Book Blast: Daughter of Belial

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jennifer will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Some Family Trees Should Be Burned. . .

Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.

Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.

But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.

Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.

Read an Excerpt

The front door slams behind me with a clamorous thud. I jump, frightened. Marcella Belleville’s ominous laughter sails through the air while the cloaked beings descend the steps to encircle me. Turning to and fro, I try to slip through an opening in their ranks, but they close in so that not even a hairpin could find a fissure for escape. A low chanting starts up, like a rumble from some vile private inferno.

Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.

The primal beating of the drums grows louder, drowning out Marcella’s maniacal laughter. Blood rushes to my face. I hear a whirring in my ears.

Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.

All I see is darkness. My heartbeat keeps time with the pulsing of the drums.

Suddenly I feel another presence. Ephemeral. Sinister. It also laughs. Its guttural wails blend with Marcella’s tinny falsetto as it, too, encircles and envelops me. No one is touching me. I know that. And yet…


It feels awful—delectable—disgusting—delicious, all at once. I hate it. The chanting grows louder.

Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.

Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.

“Stop!” I cry out, finding my voice at last. “Please. Stop!”

But it’s too late. Wispy black smoke fills my nostrils. My mouth freezes into a silent scream as the smoke fills every orifice in my head—eyes, nose, ears, mouth. The sound of babies crying mixed with horrific images of children laughing and playing in blood assault my senses. I know it can’t be real, must be a trick of some sort, an illusion, but I’m powerless to stop it.

 

About the Author

JENNIFER JUVENELLE is a Native American/French author born in Hollywood, raised in Detroit, and fashioned in France. Formerly an actress and model, Jennifer now splits her time between crafting psychological thrillers and the magic of motherhood. A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Jennifer made healing from trauma a priority when her life became untenable. Daughter of Belial is the unexpected product of her journey from trauma to triumph. An eager explorer, she currently lives in a remote Mexican seaside-jungle village with her debonair Aussie author husband and their young son.

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Book Blast: In the Mood

 

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M W Arnold will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

During a hectic couple of weeks in February 1944, the girls of the Air Transport Auxiliary Mystery Club must face devastating personal loss amongst their number. A member of an illegal faction blackmails Betty, whilst a mystery at Mary's ancestral home threatens to cause more trouble than anyone thought possible. In the midst of what should be the happiest of times, the portents seem to be catching up and little is what it seems to be. Can the girls find the strength to battle forces both internal and external, yet still maintain their dignity and friendship?

Read an Excerpt

Jane slumped back into her seat, tore the headset off, and threw it onto the desk next to the radio she’d been about to attack. “I suppose you’re right. It only makes sense if she can’t receive what we’re sending. If I didn’t know her voice so well, I’d think someone was playing a trick on me.”

“Plus,” Betty added, “it’s on our frequency.”

Jane nodded in agreement. “Still, remind me to tear her off a stripe when she gets back…calling Hamble. This is Aston.” She ended with a nervous chuckle.

Betty joined in, eventually saying, “Still, you’ll have to give her points for originality, if nothing else.”

“I’ll give her something, all right,” Jane replied. “I’ll give her…”

“Mayday! Mayday! This is First Officer Aston. Am under attack by two Me109s!”

Jane and Betty stared at each other with open mouths, as the shocking statement blared out of the radio’s tiny speaker in Thelma’s unmistakable voice. When she’d simply been trying to get through earlier it had been in her normal, albeit frustrated, tone. Now unmistakable panic coursed through it.

The radio came to life again, only the first thing they heard this time was the chilling staccato chatter of gunfire! “I repeat, this is First Officer Aston of the ATA! I’m under attack. Rudder control is gone! My port engine’s on fire! Am going down, roughly northeast of Oxford…”

White as a ghost, Jane automatically made a grab for the microphone, “Thelma! This is Jane Howell. Do you receive? Over.”

After a few seconds, a voice came out of the speaker, barely audible, yet clearly that of their desperate friend, “Jane? Is that…”

And then, deathly silence…

About the Author:

M W Arnold lives near Northampton, UK and is known to his family and friends as, Mick. He was in the Royal Air Force for 16 years, visiting many different countries and very much enjoying himself. If he ever meets the Queen, he will have to thank her. He began writing as these characters needed their own voices. For a few years now, he's been a member of the Romantic Novelists Association, a wonderful group of writers who've welcomed this bloke into their fold with open arms.

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Book Blast: An Amish Christmas Star

 

An Amish Christmas Star

by Charlotte Hubbard 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

GENRE: Inspirational Romance (Amish)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

BLURB:

The crisp fragrance of pine trees and the warm spice of fresh cookies aren’t the only blessings 

that Christmas brings, and no one knows more about happy homecomings than three couples 

who are celebrating the greatest gift of all . . .

STAR OF WONDER by Charlotte Hubbard

When Raymond Overholt comes to Promise Lodge, hoping to sell the barnboard signs he’s 

painted with stars and Christmas messages, spirited young Mennonite Lizzie Zehr is intrigued. 

But any courtship between them will face fierce opposition from the bishop of Raymond’s Old 

Order community—unless someone can convince him that at the heart of faith lies love . . . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 EXCERPT

After a deadly dull Monday morning of filling small plastic containers with colored sugars and

Christmas jimmies, Lizzie Zehr loaded them onto her wheeled cart and headed into the main

room of Promise Lodge’s new bulk store. It was boring work, all that scooping and

labeling—repetitive and downright lonely, being stuck back in the warehouse by herself.

But compared to slaving in her older sister Maria’s bakery or, for years before that, running the

household for their eldest, crippled sister, Malinda, it was a piece of cake.

And because Dale Kraybill was paying her, it was freedom. This job was her ticket to

independence, an escape from the two bossy sisters who’d been running her ragged for most of

her eighteen years. Their parents had passed when she was very young, so Lizzie’s sisters had

raised her as best they could—and they expected her to be grateful. She was, of course. But

she was also really tired of being at their beck and call.

Lizzie’s thoughts shifted into a higher gear the moment she spotted the guy who was talking to

Dale. The two fellows were hanging wooden signboards, which caught her eye because of their

sparkly gold stars—but the shimmer of their glittery paint paled the moment the younger fellow

turned around. In his green paisley shirt, red jeans, and backswept black hair, he looked

anything but Plain, and when he met her gaze through his red-framed glasses, Lizzie

immediately knew they were soul mates. Like her, this free spirit was gnashing at the bit and

refusing to conform to the religious limitations he’d been raised with.

Like her, he wanted out.

“Hey there,” he said. His voice, barely audible from across the cavernous room, spoke volumes

to Lizzie’s restless heart.

Afraid to say something stupid, she merely nodded and held his gaze. She heard the secretive

whisper of soft, small objects hitting a hard surface—or maybe it was the feathery swishing of

angels’ wings—

“Lizzie, watch what—you’re spilling jimmies all over the floor!” Dale cried out.

She blinked. She had no memory of picking up a container, just as she didn’t realize she’d been

squeezing it so tightly that the lid had popped off. The sight of red and green jimmies bouncing

off her bare feet—she wore flip-flops year-round to show off her painted toenails—was suddenly

the funniest thing she’d ever seen. As Lizzie sprinted into the warehouse for a broom, her

laughter filled the store.

Her life was finally taking a turn for the better. She just knew it.

Author Bio:

In 1983, Charlotte Hubbard sold her first story to True Story. She wrote around 70 of those

confession stories, and she’s sold more than 60 books to traditional or online publishers. A

longtime resident of Missouri, she’s currently writing Amish romances set in imaginary Missouri

towns for Kensington. She now lives in Omaha, NE with her husband of 40+ years and their

Border collie, Vera.

www.charlottehubbard.com

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Sunday Post #89: Fluid Art 5

Hello All. It has been a while. This is my latest fluid art piece. What do you think?

Post Rewind

📌 Aug 4th = Book Blast: An Imaginary Affair

📌 10th = WWBC #25: Fanfiction 

📌 (belated) 11th = Cover Reveal: Grimm Consequences

📌 12th = Cover Reveal: Ship Happens

📌 30th = VBT: Cutter Kauai Sea Adventures

📌 Sept 15th = Book Blast: Improbable MD

📌 19th = Cover Reveal: Veils and Vampires

Currently Reading

📖 Shadow Kissed (by: Rebecca Garcia) = page 56

*** If you don't have anything to say about this week's topic, you can comment on any other part of the post or just say "hi".

*** I am always having to edit many of my posts. If I made any grammar mistakes, I will eventually fix them.

*** The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted by Kimba @ Caffeinated Book Reviewer

Cover Reveal: Veils and Vampires

 

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding an art nouveau journal to a randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

I’m checking out the Bold Tsarina nightclub, even if it is owned by Konstantin, the Bratva crime lord who hates my guts. After all, the trip could snag me a high-paying gig for another mafia king, the infamous Caelin Vass.

Yes, that Caelin Vass.

I’m talking about the hot-as-sin social media sensation who’s rumored to be both a horrible boss and a blood-sucking vampire. And did I mention that Caelin’s also the star of my hottest NSFW fantasies? He is. Plus, that isn’t even the strangest part of my life right now… or the best.

Read my story and have some fun. You know you want to.

Read an Excerpt

Far up the street, a police car switches on its flashers.

This is getting good.

The driver's side door whips open and out steps Celin MacGregor, my would-be boss. The man does not look happy. He glares right at me.

“What're ye doin', lass?”

Huh. Vass' accent gets heavier when he's angry. Nice to know.

“Talking with some girls from high school.” I gesture to Devon and Shay as evidence.

Only the two of them are gone.

I frown. “Or, I was chatting them up.”

Caelin stalks closer. On reflex, I step backward. Soon my spine hits the glass facade of the building. It's not like sidewalks in Manhattan are super huge.

Caelin sets his hands on either side of my head, caging me against the wall. My blood heats. If I thought there was some kind of energy between us back in his office, it's nothing compared to what zings between us now. The connection becomes a charge of desire that prickles across my body. I might even be panting a little.

“I'll ask ye again,” says Vass, his voice low. “Ye know the likes of them?”

NOTE: CEE BEE also writes young adult fare under the name Christina Bauer. Check out Christina’s books at www.christinabauerauthor.com. There’s a literal sh*t ton of them.

https://christinabauerauthor.com/


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