Friday, September 4, 2015

Labor Day Weekend

Our bags are packed and we're headed for my sister's wedding. I won't be back for a few days and probably won't be in the blogesphere next week. I trust this weekend is a pleasant and safe one for you and that you have the best Labor Day Weekend ever.  


Thursday, September 3, 2015

In Touch by Cd Brennan

In Touch by Cd Brennan

For sale on all Amazon sites globally.  Here is the link for


Sexy. Passionate. Fierce.
Irish rugby star, Padraig O’Neale, has fecked up his life and is one angry man. When caught using a banned substance for his back pain, Padraig is excused from both his provincial club and the Irish International team. Right before World Cup selection. Out of choices, his agent convinces Padraig to play for a small American club in Michigan. Just until things settle down. But when Coach asks the team physical therapist, Gillian Sommersby, to help the newest Blues player with his issues, Padraig finds himself trying every wacky treatment out there from stinky salves to music to yoga. Like her therapies, the therapist herself is a bit…odd. The cute college grad in Converse and glasses doesn’t seem all that impressed with Padraig’s celebrity status, nor gives a shite about his excuses. As it turns out, she might be exactly what he needs…
She hadn’t heard Padraig approach, so when he sat down next to her on the top step, she jerked up to sitting, her hand stilling a heart that wanted to make a break out of the gates.
He wore his tracksuit pants and a T-shirt with bare feet and rumpled hair. “Are you okay?”
She brushed her face with the corner of the quilt. “Ah yeah, just couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights, anyway.”
Their seclusion here in the woods, the surrounding darkness as black as ink, gave Gillian the courage to ask, “We’re probably not at the right time for each other, are we?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure, but you’ve done more for me in the time I’ve been here than anyone has in my life.”
“All that means is I’m a super-sap.”
He chuckled. “You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”
“Oh shit, this sounds like the beginning of the talk.”
“What talk is that?”
“Don’t. You know what I mean.”
“You told me once you don’t like head games and I’m telling you honestly. You are better than any other woman I’ve met, and there have been loads.”
“That makes me feel a heap better. So it’s not just sex?”
“Fantastic sex.”
“Yes, fantastic sex, but you’re, you’re…a testosterone turd.”
“Wait a tick, that sounds naff.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Sorry, it’s what I used to call my brother and his friends.”
“I don’t get that about Americans. You guys categorize everything, put everyone in little boxes with labels, compartmentalize. We don’t really do that in Ireland. And Jaysus, we’re adults. Too old for that shite.”
“You’re so right.”
“And you’re just you, Gill, sexy as fuck, funny, smart. All the Blues think you’re class. You could have picked any of ’em. Why me? It’s not like I was much of a gentleman a few weeks ago.”
“It was the accent.”
“Thanks for being honest.”
She laughed, but it died at her next thought. “When are you leaving?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything from my agent, and I haven’t a clue what else to do.”
“You could stay here.”
He turned, and even though the darkness cloaked his eyes, she had penetrated where she’d wanted the thought to go.
“I could.”
She had nothing further to say so she laid her head on his shoulder. “Are you cold? I’d offer to share, but I’m naked as a jaybird underneath.”
He wrapped his right arm around her and drew her close, both of them shuffling together in an awkward moment. “Nah, this is just a summer day in Ireland.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Not right now.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Will you be here?”
She smiled, scuffing her foot across the worn step, pushing flecks of old paint over the edge. “I will.”
“Then I won’t miss it.”
His words warmed her through, and she bit her lip in happiness. She didn’t know what to say in return, so asked, “How are you feeling?”
He nodded, taking a small stone from the step and chucking it into the woods. “Anxious. Tense. I want the meds.”
“You will for a while, I hear. You might crave it for days, even months from now.”
“Will you be here?”
She wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. “I will.”
He kissed her on the head. “Hey, you’re not such a bad trumpet player.”
She laughed then. “Thanks.”
Author Bio
Having traveled and lived all over the world, Cd Brennan now enjoys reliving her glory days by writing about them. Feisty heroines with wanderlust or sexy rugby heroes who breathe passion for more than just the sport.
Aussie/Yankee twined, Cd is now settled in Michigan with a rugby player of her own and two wee sons who are still adapting to the snow. A full-time editor and mum, her and her hubby still dream of starting up a buffalo farm. And maybe some chickens and pigs, too. She loves rugby, traveling, and all things from the 80s.
Doesn’t watch TV so don’t chat to her about that, but she loves to hear from readers about anything else! Perhaps some cooking suggestions? She’s desperate in the kitchen! Find her on loads of your favorite places.

Instagram @cdbrennan_author
 Thanks for joining us today, Cd. We are wishing you much success with your exciting release.


Wednesday, September 2, 2015

IWSG Wednesday
The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Members post about their doubts and fears, discuss struggles and triumphs, and offer words of encouragement to others who are struggling.
Triumphs is an exaggeration, though, this book was like a foster child who almost had a home on several different occasions, and for one reason or another, continued to be bounced from pillar to post. At one publishing company, the editors didn't want it but the publisher did. That didn't sound doable to me. At another: the editor/director of the line wanted it, but the publishing company didn't. Another publishing company and their editor wanted it, but their contract made me very....nervous. Finally, Ghost For Sale wound up living in the Kensington household. It's scheduled for release the twenty-ninth of this month. 
Caitlin King can’t believe that her shopaholic cousin actually bought two ghosts off of eBay. But she can’t ignore the truth when she starts seeing sexy Liam O’Reilly, who’s been dead for over a hundred years. He’s a fascinating specter, and the more time Caitlin spends with him, the closer they become—sending them both spiraling into a star-crossed tailspin. No matter how desperately they long for each other, there’s just no future with a guy who’s already stopped breathing.

In order to help Liam and his twin sister, Anna, leave their earthly limbo and cross over into the light, Caitlin must find the ghost of Anna’s fiancĂ©. But a malevolent spirit is dead set against Anna moving on. Now Caitlin will have to unravel the mystery surrounding the twins’ past lives in order to keep Liam’s spirit safe—even if it means sacrificing her heart in the process. 


As we reached the car, my breath went out in a whoosh. Arms and legs crossed, Liam leaned against the shiny Corvette. The street lamp limned his high sharp cheekbones and sparked the blue highlights in his hair. Plain black cotton trousers framed long legs. My heart tightened and my bones loosened. He was just so darn pretty, in a manly-man sort of way.
His stormy eyes shifted to me. He stared, unsmiling.
The ghost was still in a snit. Well fine, I was in a bit of a snit myself.
We drove home in silence. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Liam stared straight ahead, his arms crossed, pensive. At least he wasn’t white knuckling the side of the car. How strange this must seem to him.
I surfed the satellite radio till I found a channel that played old Irish ballads.
A beatific expression came over his face, making my breath catch. How could a man be so good-looking? Maybe it was a ghost thing. His expression changed to one of abject terror. “Watch out,” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
I turned the wheel sharply to the right, just missing a little old lady driving a bright red sports car. She laid on her horn and stuck her third digit out the window.
Liam stared, his gorgeous mouth open. I think a senior citizen giving me the finger shocked him worse than my driving.

Warning: Contains ghosts and shopaholics

If you are willing to host me on your blog between Sept 29 and Oct 31, please shoot me an email @
If you can support me on Thunderclap:
Thanks so much. 

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Deception: The Demon Hunters Book 2

Genre: Historical PNR

Publisher: Kensington/Lyrical

Date of Publication: July 7, 2015

ISBN: 9781616505622

Number of pages: 232
Word Count: 78,957

Cover Artist: Morgan Pielli

Book Description:

When Demons threaten Regency London, only a Lady can stop them.

Lillian Dellacourt is beautiful, refined and absolutely lethal. She’s also the most feared and merciless demon hunter in The Company. She’s come a long way from the penniless seamstress’s daughter sold to the highest bidder, and it wasn’t by trusting a man, let alone an exiled Marquis with more on his mind than slaying the hellspawn . . .

For Dorian Lambert, Marquis de Montalembert, being sent to keep track of Lillian is no mean task. He’s wanted the fiery vixen since he first heard of her five years ago. But wooing the lady while fighting the demon uprising is no easy feat, especially when the lady’s tongue is as sharp as the Japanese sai blades she favors for eviscerating the spawn of hell.

These two will have to learn to trust each other fast, because the demon master is back, and he’s planning to turn Edinburgh into a living hell…

Amazon    BN     Kobo     iBooks     Kensington

Gripping the chair arms to keep herself seated, Lillian fought an urge to leave and never set foot inside Castle Brendaligh again.
It had been a demoralizing battle and they had lost, but they had lived. They had done all they could, but still the demon master had ascended into man’s world.
“You failed and we are all likely to die because of it. I hold every person at this table responsible for the state of England. You have ruined us.” Lord Clayton’s voice grated on Lillian’s nerves.
Accounts of the battle were clear. Nearly everyone in the room had risked their lives trying to disrupt the ascension, not to mention keep the earl’s daughter, Belinda, from becoming a demon sacrifice. Making such a show of ferocious reprimands insulted their brave and selfless efforts. If not for the fact that he was her best friend’s father, she might have indulged her desire to pull a sai blade from her boot and slice his throat.
As if Lord Clayton, the Earl of Shafton, needed to attract more attention, he waved his hands. “You had one mission, to keep the master from entering our world. All you had to do was kill one demon, but you failed. You should all be shot for treason. Treason!”
His bright red face gave her hope his heart might fail and save her the trouble of killing him.
 Other hunters at the table murmured, but no one spoke out.
Everyone in this room is to blame. You had the perfect opportunity to end this mess. Now
the master is free of his realm and living in ours. It’s only a matter of time before he is strong enough to destroy everything we hold dear. When your families are killed mercilessly, will you sit here so unrepentant about failing in your duty?”
“Father, really.” Belinda Thurston rolled her eyes.
Lillian missed Reece’s steadying presence. Reece might have even been able to stop his lordship’s tirade with a few quick-witted remarks. Her partner had nearly died, and now lay upstairs recovering from demon poisoning.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Belinda. You are equally to blame. You were with the master for days and made no attempt to destroy him.”
Gabriel, Belinda’s husband, bristled. It was of course a ridiculous statement. The Earl of Tullering was not used to public abuse of his family. “Just a minute, my lord. You are out of order. Belinda was in no position to defeat the demon master. The information she gathered will be very helpful in our eventual victory.”
Shafton pointed a fat finger. “I do not want to hear about information that will take years to decipher. You, Tullering, are by far the most culpable. You and that woman”—he pointed at Lillian—“made a conscious choice not to destroy the master.”
Lillian reached toward her boot and let the hard steel of her sai blade handle bring her comfort. One second and Shafton’s head could be rolling down the long table and land in Drake Cullum’s lap.

About the Author:

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Multi-published in historical, paranormal, erotic and contemporary romance, A.S. is the author of The Demon Hunters series, the Psychic Mates series, and more. With several books currently contracted to multiple publishers, A.S. will be brining you her brand of edgy romance for years to come.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden. Her babies are both rescues and include a demanding dog and a temperamental cat both of which bring constant joy and laughter.

Tour giveaway
4 ebook copies Deception
Congrats to A.S.on her latest release.