Release Day Celebration – Winter’s Siren

Happy Book Birthday!!!

Winter’s Siren
Krystal Jane Ruin
Publication date: November 1st 2017
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult

For the last five years, Fawn has been the star soprano of a secluded opera house, forced to sing for her kidnapper.

His daughter, Devi, waits patiently in the shadows, hiding a face so horrible that no one who’s seen it will look at it again.

As Fawn plots her escape, whispers spread through the shaded corridors of dark sorcery, warning her that she must flee by the next opening night.

But when Fawn draws close to the exit, it’s Devi who’s standing in her way, leading Fawn to suspect that Devi has something to gain if she fails.

(a dark reimagining of Swan Lake)

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Author Interview

Why paranormal and what other genres are you interested in writing?

-I’ve always been drawn to dark stories. Some of my first memories are of me trying to scare myself for some reason. Haha. My writing tastes have always been a lot more narrow than my reading tastes. But I would like to experiment with some dark historical fantasy and supernatural horror. I might talk myself into trying another high fantasy story one day.

 

If you were a teacher, what subject would you teach?

-Shakespearean Drama! But I’d also be happy to do plain Shakespeare or plain Drama. Either one of those would be most up my alley. If a class existed that was dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe, I’d also be interested in that.

 

If you could live in any novel, which one would you choose and why?

-Is it weird if I say I want to live in Middle Earth? I read The Hobbit a long time ago, but I’ve only recently watched all the movies, and I’m obsessed with them! I hate the thought of giant spiders and trolls and orcs, but I wouldn’t leave Hobbiton anyway, and I think I’d love it there. Also, no creatures there. Bonus. (I mean, if Gandalf was with me, I might could be talked into going on an adventure.)

 

Are you a plotter, panster, or hybrid writer?

-I often pants the beginnings of stories or pants my outline as I write, but I always have a clear plan and direction I’m going in. That said, I have to have a finished outline at some point. It helps me remember little details better, and I write faster with one, as well.

 

What is your mutant power?

-Freezing everything! Don’t ask what for. I have a long-standing fantasy of water manipulation, and I would just love that. In my head, it’s like a cross between Ice Man and Storm. Ice Storm anyone? No?

 

What three movies would you take to a deserted island to watch over and over again for a year?

-Easiest question ever. The Little Mermaid, Clueless, and The Craft. They are my favorite top three movies of all time, but I feel sorry for anyone who knows me after returning from such a trip. I have a really bad habit of quoting movies, and I’d likely have them all completely memorized by then.

 

What inspired you to write WINTER’S SIREN?

-Usually, this is the hardest question ever, but I love fairy tales, I love retellings, and I love the theatre: ballet, musicals, opera. My love of theatre directly influenced the direction of this story. You don’t want to know what it looked like before.

 


EXCERPT

The musicians set up in the orchestra pit and start warming up. The off-key kaleidoscope of music rises into the warm and stuffy air. I stand on the back edge of the stage, watching dust motes drift down from the rafters.

The first rehearsal. Time is dwindling much too quickly.  

The urge to run for it is imprinted on my bones. But my jailer waits for me nearby in the darkness, like always. I know from experience how quick he is.

Muted footsteps sound from behind me. I spin around and force a wide grin on my face, expecting Dillion. I find Andrew instead, and my forced smile melts into a real one.

“You’re here.” I scan the shadows behind him, but there’s no sign of Devi. He came alone. Good. I was afraid he might have run off to spend some time with the little monster. “I missed you at dinner. I hope you can join us next time.”

He returns my smile with a warm one of his own. “I can certainly try.” His eyes roam the backstage area. Parts of old sets are tucked away close to the walls, collecting dust. Parts of new sets sit drying in the middle of the room. The thick scent of latex paint sticks to everything.

“Where did you run off to earlier?” I ask. “I am sorry to have scared you away.”

His smile starts to fade. “You didn’t scare me. I just . . . worry about her.”

Irritation punches me in the ribs. “Yes, I worry about her as well. She’s so guarded. It’s so hard to get close to her.” My throat tightens. Why do you even care?

A haunted look passes through his eyes. “Yes, it is.” He clears his throat. “Is this the first official rehearsal? Are you excited?”

Excited is not a word I would use about anything pertaining to my life. “Yes, very much. I love the new music. It’s so emotive and beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.” His gaze flickers past me to someone on the stage.

I turn and see Dillion standing on the other end, surrounded by singers and dancers, watching us, his expression guarded. He nods when he catches us staring and turns to say something to the dancer closest to him. They both laugh.

“You and Dillion seem like you’re getting along well.” Andrew’s gaze shifts back to my face.

I wave his comment away. “Yes. Viktor wants me to make him feel welcome and special. It’s all very shallow, though.” I watch him closely and decide to test the waters on his end. “I’d much rather spend that time with you.”

 

 

Author Bio:

Krystal is the author of supernatural and paranormal fiction, living in the Tennessee Valley with a collection of swords and daggers. When she’s not hoarding stuffed pandas, hourglasses, and Hello Kitty replicas, she can be found in YouTube hole or blogging about books, writing, and random things at KrystalSquared.net.

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Book Blitz – Can’t Buy Me Love

Can’t Buy Me Love
Publication date: November 1st 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

Can’t Buy Me Love

Seven romantic tales of love where royalty, celebrities, and passion meet. A case of mistaken identity, protecting the one you love, or proving you aren’t all about the money…these tales will entice and thrill.

A Royal Pain by Abigail Drake

Getting shot in the bottom turns out to be the best thing to happen to impoverished socialite, Chloe Burkhart in a long time, especially when the prince’s very handsome, very sexy bodyguard, Nicolai, comes to her aid.

Caught by Him by Tammy Mannersly

Blockbuster movie actor, Brody Nash doesn’t quite know what to make of the gorgeous woman precariously perched on his neighbor’s gate, but as they start to get to know each other better, he begins to wonder if she might just be the one for him.

Romancing the Princess by Bridie Hall

A commoner, Sebastian, and Princess Alixandra are set to get married until he begins to wonder if fitting in with royalty is worth sacrificing his principles. Love rules all. Or does it?

All My Memories by Grea Warner

The possibility of reconnecting with an unrequited love leads country music star Finn Murphy on a journey of memories in this special prequel to the Country Roads series.

Me and Tillie by Lisa Hahn

1950s musical film star Oren Cooper returns to Broadway to find new inspiration. Unexpectedly, that inspiration comes in the form of Tillie Parker—his childhood friend’s little sister and an up-and-coming ingénue.

Defending Demma by Melissa Kaye Clark

When faced with an unsavory past, can Demma St. John, rising new starlet, trust ex-Marine, Ryker “Digger” McMillan, with her secrets and her heart?

His Royal Typeface by Stephanie Keyes

When all is lost, love can be found. Will Prince Asher Tarrington’s unique font design be enough to salvage a royal family and set the tone for true love?

Goodreads / Amazon

SNEAK PEEKS!

A Royal Pain by Abigail Drake

“Thank you, Nico. For tonight. It meant more than I can ever express…”

My words were cut off when his lips met mine in the sweetest and softest kiss I’d ever imagined. How could someone as big and strong and hard as Nico kiss like this? He made me feel as delicate as the porcelain plates from Grandpa Burkhart, and as valuable.

His large hands cupped my face as the kiss deepened. I covered his hands with mine, stretching on my tiptoes to get closer to him. We broke apart when Ella closed a door from somewhere inside the apartment and called out my name.

“Sissy. Do you know where my new socks are?”

I’d finally gotten her a new uniform, socks and all, and she was setting it out to wear to school tomorrow. “I’ll be right there,” I called out. Nico still stroked my face with his fingers, his eyes on mine. The man was positively hypnotic. He should come with a warning label, Don’t drive or operate heavy machinery after kissing Nicolai Mercia. It could be dangerous.

“Good night, Chloe,” he said, giving me one last brief kiss. “Sleep well.”

Caught by Him by Tammy Mannersly

Even though the Jaguar didn’t stop, Brody took note of Carmody’s look of distaste before she sped away.

“Morning.” He smiled his biggest grin at Willa.

Willa ran the last few steps onto his driveway and then slowed her pace to a walk. “Guess the maid service has come and gone.” She offered him a smirk as she tilted her head in the direction of the convertible.

Brody chuckled and then opened his mouth to correct her, but she quickly cut him off.

“Sorry. Girlfriend.” She propped her hands on her hips. “I should’ve realized. It makes sense a guy like you would be taken.”

Intrigued, his gaze narrowed on hers. “A guy like me? What does that mean?”

“You know,” she began to explain matter-of-factly with a nod in his direction, “a guy who cleans his own pool and uses the same pool-cleaning gizmo to protect the neighborhood.”

“Oh, that kind of guy.” He laughed. “You make me sound a B-squad superhero.”

She raised her blonde eyebrows as though agreeing with his suggestion and then shrugged. “If the B-squad superhero costume fits…”

Brody laughed again, before offering her a more serious expression. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Romancing the Princess by Bridie Hall

Usually, he left before the morning shed light on the consequences of his actions. This time, his insides squeezed at the thought he’d never get to wake up next to Alix again. It wasn’t fair.

“It’s been …” Alix glanced at him and then dropped her gaze. “Well, I need to go through the customs. Boarding will start in half an hour.” Her voice was croaky. It pained him that he couldn’t tell whether from fatigue or emotion.

She leaned into him, soft and supple, and it took his breath away. His arms came around her reflexively. Her bed hair was a stark reminder of what they’d been doing minutes before calling a taxi to take them to the airport.

“This was real, right? I didn’t just dream it?” Seb said.

He couldn’t quite catch what she murmured into his chest.

“I’ll miss you,” he blurted.

She looked up, opening her mouth, but then she pressed her lips together and dropped her gaze to his chest. He forced her face up with his finger under her chin. He kissed her forehead, her cheek and eyelids, her chin and lips, and felt the bitter taste of goodbye intruding on their intimacy.

His mouth on hers seemed to have unlocked something in her because she finally whispered, “I’ll miss you, too.”

When she stepped away, he reached to push a strand of her hair from her face, but her eyes—miserable and dark—flitted to his for a second and then she was gone, walking away from him, and then running, her purse swaying from her shoulder behind her.

All My Memories by Grea Warner

“Ugh—the light. Why is it so bright?” I squinted my eyes and threw my forearm across them.

I felt like I was in a vacuum. There was a low buzzing sound in my ears. No, it was more like my head.

When I finally adjusted to my surroundings, I realized I was in my bed. The sheets were tousled and thrown. The pillows laid haphazardly on the floor. I could hear some of my fraternity brothers talking in the nearby lounge. I could tell it was probably closer to mid-day than morning by the slightest ray of light that beamed a little too brightly through the crack in the window’s drapes. My stomach swished a little. And then I remembered. I remembered the night before.

“Oh, geez. Oh, God. Lara,” I mumbled to myself.

What had I been thinking?

Me and Tillie by Lisa Hahn

“I’d like a glass of champagne and a whiskey sour.” With two fingers, he waved the bartender to lean closer. When the other man complied, Oren inconspicuously slipped him a five-dollar bill. “Dress a ginger ale up like a whiskey sour. Orange, cherry, the works.”

The bartender tucked the money into his pocket and nodded. “A champagne and a whiskey sour, coming right up.”

Oren leaned on the bar and looked back to Tillie. He’d nearly stumbled earlier when he first saw her in that dress. The vibrant red satin brought out the creaminess of her pale complexion, stunning him with her flawlessness. Her blonde hair had been swept off her face to reveal the round cheekbones, upturned nose, and bow-shaped lips of a starlet.

Oren scrubbed a hand over his face and turned back to the bar. God, he wanted her. But bringing her up to his room would be a bad idea. All her bright-eyed optimism would be wasted for a frivolous one-night affair. If he could give her more, he would. He knew he would. But not now. Not when he felt so broken.

Defending Demma by Melissa Kay Clarke

Several seconds passed as he fought to get his body under control. Finally, he blew out a breath and shook his head with a grin. “As much as I would love to spend all day showing you just how appreciative I am of your delectable body, we have things to do.” He motioned toward the tray. “Be a good girl, finish your breakfast, get your shower, and come in the computer room. I have something to show you.” “Or you can stay here, and I can show you something,” Demma cooed.

“Temptress.” Demma ran a finger down between her sheet-clad breasts and eyed him wantonly. “If I’m going to be labeled a temptress, I might as well embrace the role,” she purred throatily. She watched as his eyes widened and followed the slow journey of her fingers.

With a growl, he took a step back and shook his head. “Woman! What you do to me,” he gasped then closed his eyes.

After a moment, he opened them and grinned. “Later, you can show me just how well you play that role. But for now, we have things to do. I think I may have figured out who’s behind the blackmail.

His Royal Typeface by Stephanie Keyes

Jumping, Bailey gripped the railing and turned, sucking in a breath. It was him. Asher. The man who would one day be king. But also, Jenson. He was each and all of those things at once. His hair was close-cropped and golden, his eyes an unsettling shade of blue that burned straight into her soul.

“All this time we’ve been working together and I didn’t know who you were.” Her cheeks burned. “And I asked you to think royal. I bet you and your staff got a real charge out of that one.”

Some instinct kicked on inside Bailey. Locking her jaw, she managed a stiff curtsy. “Your Highness.”

“Bailey, please. Stop curtsying.” He waved her off and walked to the edge of his own balcony, a too-close neighbor of her own. He could have climbed from his balcony to hers if he wanted, without endangering himself in the slightest. “I didn’t laugh at you. I didn’t do this to get a rise out of you or make fun of you.”

“Then why did you? Why on Earth would a crown prince ever need a job?” She gestured to the gardens and the sea and all of the luxury that sat at Prince Asher’s feet.

“I have my reasons.” A worry line creased the bridge of his nose. If he was being sincere, Bailey was hardly one to judge. He seemed sincere, though. What would it hurt to give him a chance to explain himself?

 

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