HUGE GIVEAWAY! TONS OF CHANCES TO WIN!
The Surviving Series #4
Releasing Nov 28th, 2015
What happens when you pray for death and you’re ignored?
You have to live.
You have to survive.
But what if the last thing you want is to take your next breath?
To the world, Ryan is a hero, an ex-marine, brother, son and protector. He has devoted his life to keeping others safe. He will do anything and everything to ensure his loved ones are protected, even if that means destroying his very own soul. After an explosion on the battlefield ends his career in the Marine’s, Ryan is sent home with an honorable discharge. But the war hasn’t ended for him.
He is home, he is free and he’s breathing, but he’s dead inside.
He wants nothing more than peace, but the nightmares in his mind will not grant him that. They taunt him, tease him and torture his waking moments. The darkness within him is slowly consuming him, blackness has seeped into his veins and is rotting his core. Ryan is a man on the edge of destruction. For once he is the one in need of saving. He needs a saviour.
He needs her.
Ryan is commissioned as a bodyguard to Aloura Cavendish. When he initially meets her, he believes her to be a spoiled rich brat, wasting his time. But the fire inside her astounds him. When he pushes, he never expects her to push back. When he runs, she chases. For the first time in his life, Ryan has a protector willing to fight his demons. The only problem – he is too afraid to release them.
Excerpt for SILENT SCARS
That’s when I heard the music, the loud angry tones of Green Day’s “American Idiot” I grinned because it appeared Aloura wasn’t a fan of having us invade her life.
“Gentlemen, I may not require your services. It appears I will just strangle my daughter myself.” Graham, uttered sarcastically as we headed towards the loud music. When we reached the open doorway he strode through, leaving Will and I to follow. My douche of a brother paused causing me to walk into his back. I peered around the doorway and froze.
There was no other way to describe it – her – other than absolute perfection. She was dancing around the room, her body moving with such fluidity that she almost floated. The music died immediately and she stopped. Her attention fixed on her father who had stopped the music. She slapped her hands down over her hips and breathed up at the ceiling. Her shoulders lifted and fell with each breath she pulled in. She glared at her father’s back again as he came towards us and then she caught sight of Will and I standing at the door gawping at her like two morons. I straightened and smoothed my hands over my head. It’s a habit I developed after I was discharged from the hospital. I hate the constant reminder marring my skin that I fucked up. That people died because of me.
“Sweetheart,” Graham gritted out through his teeth. “These are the gentlemen I was telling you about.”
“The ones with tight arses and buns you want to bite?”
I spluttered a laugh as her father turned crimson. The silver in his hair glistened against his skin. Will glanced at me, trying to hide his smirk.
“That’s what you said this morning isn’t it?” She asked batting her eyelashes at him. She headed over to a black piano in the corner of the room and picked something up from the top, when she held them up to her face I realised she was putting glasses on. She turned and blinked a few times in our direction and her cheeks turned a really beautiful shade of pink.
She ran her hands over her black hair, which was pulled back in a messy knot type thing. Then she trailed them down her body, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt. It was fascinating watching her assessing us.
“I should have punished you more as a child.” He glared at her, but there was no mistaking the small curl of his lips of the undeniable love shining in his eyes.
“So this is my horrible little brat, Aloura.”
Hi! What to say about myself...I don't really have anything interesting to offer other than I love to read, and create stories for others to enjoy. I've always been told I have a vivid imagination, I just lacked the confidence to pursue putting it onto the the written page. But finally I embarked on making a single dream come true.
I love to read, and write. I only read romance, any genre really, but it has to have a beautiful romance. I also demand a HEA, even if it takes two or three books to get there. Reality is too broken and jaded without having to live through the trauma and angst in a book for it to end unhappily.
THE GIRL'S GOT SECRETS
Forbidden Men #7
Releasing Nov 28th, 2015
Here’s the same old “girl posing as a boy” story but with a rock-n-roll twist.
Remy Curran dreams of one day being in a band, except the group she wants to join refuses to hire a girl drummer. So, she auditions as a guy...and makes the cut.
Becoming “Sticks,” a member of Non-Castrato, isn’t quite what she dreamed it would be, though. She spends most of her time keeping up the subterfuge and learning how to walk, talk, act, and drink like a man.
But what’s even harder to deal with is acting oblivious when the band’s heartthrob lead singer, Asher Hart, treats her like one of the guys and not a woman. She never imagined he’d be so much more than a pretty face with a nice voice. But he’s better than perfect. He’s perfect for her.
When love and lies combine, Remy must keep up the act or lose everything. But who knew lying to reach one dream could prevent you from attaining an even bigger dream?
Excerpts for THE GIRL’S GOT SECRETS
"...You look just perfect. I would so throw you down on your bed and ride you right now if I didn’t know you were really a girl in there. Hell, I’m tempted to, anyway.”
I rolled my eyes but chased it with a smile. “Thanks. I think.”
“Now practice your man walk,” she demanded, waving out her hand.
I faltered. “My what?”
She sighed. “You’re not going to pass for a dude if you stroll in there with your hidden girl hips swaying and flattened tits pooched out on display.”
My mouth fell open. “Excuse me. I do NOT walk like that.”
She snorted. “Oh...own it, puta. You’re a hot piece of ass, you can’t help the girly swagger.”
“But I don’t—”
“Hunch your shoulder over a little more, concentrate on keeping your hips in line, and try to jut your cock forward when you strut.”
“That’s how hot guys walk, like they’re leading with their junk.”
I could only shake my head. I had honestly never seen a guy walk as if he were trying to poke his pecker out ahead of him. “Where do you come up with this shit?”
“Just do it, puta.”
I sighed but used her suggestions, trying to overdramatize the cock-and-go strut, as I was thusly dubbing it.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She purred out a promiscuous growl and clawed the air in my direction. “How do you say ‘I want to sit on your face’ in Spanish?”
Linda grew up on a dairy farm in the Midwest as the youngest of eight children. Now she lives in Kansas with her husband, daughter, and nine cuckoo clocks. Her life's been blessed with lots of people to learn from and love. Writing's always been a major part of her world, and she is so happy to finally share some of her stories with other romance lovers.