Scattered Ashes by Annie Anderson BLOG TOUR!

SCATTERED ASHES
by Annie Anderson

Genre: Paranormal Romance

- SYNOPSIS -

Aurelia Constantine is having a rough century. 

Plagued by visions of murder, death and destruction, she has resigned herself to the nightmare her life has become. When an enemy from her past comes to her rescue, she must let go of old wounds and heal the breach so she may survive the evil poisoning her mind. 

Rhys Stevens is guilty. 

Murder. Betrayal. Treason. Take your pick; he’s guilty of them all. On the path of redemption, he must beg for forgiveness from the one person he fought to save - the woman he has always loved. 

Thrown together in the trenches of war, they must work as a team to stop a monstrous puppet master from pulling their strings.

Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.

Get ready to burn.

- PURCHASE -

                

AMAZON US Paperback
AMAZON UK Paperback

- EXCERPT -

I groan as I open the car door and pull my body to standing. I rub my eyes, so happy I ditched the contacts and shake out my legs before going to the trunk to pull out my go-bag. Every vehicle I own (even the boat and four-wheelers) has a small duffel bag stashed somewhere in them. They contain cash, clothes, one day of rations (beef jerky and a flask of Jameson, don’t give me too much credit), and a new identity.

The identity I probably won’t need just yet, but I do need the set of clothes. My suit jacket was lost to some poor male patron with a gut shot, and my pants and shirt are ruined by some lady’s blood and the remnants of what I did to Thad during his interrogation. I feel guilty for not using the Morganite knife and killing him for real since I know he’ll heal in the next couple of days. My only solace is that it will take a few days to regrow his whole fucking head.

Dick.

I knew I shouldn’t have gone to my stupid exhibit. I swear it’s the last time I let Evan talk me into anything.

I mean it this time.

Rhys has been quiet most of the drive, and it’s a blessing because I have no idea what to say to him. But it’s a curse as well due to the barbed guilt running through my veins. I’ve spent little time with him that hasn’t included me trying to rip him limb from limb, so a conversation might be impossible. I’m also a little disturbed having him so close hasn’t been the hardship I thought it would be. He’s been quiet, considerate, and he pumped the gas when we stopped because me getting out of the car would have caused a stir.

We both get out of the car and walk to the trunk, which I’ve popped with the key fob.

“You want me to carry that?” he asks, chivalrously reaching past me to lift my duffel out of the trunk. The bastard. I really wish he’d cooperate and be an asshole so I could hate him appropriately. I grind my teeth together in an attempt to avoid screaming and give a jerky nod, letting him take the bag. It takes some effort, but I gently close my trunk, careful not to hurt my baby even though I want to smash something.

I stride towards the front door behind Rhys, vigilantly trying not to stomp my feet and pout like a Goddamn toddler. My anger only grows when I notice how fucking spectacular he looks in a suit. Holy shit balls. He’s easily six foot three, maybe taller. I’m five-three on a good day, so he’s at least an entire foot taller than me. The crisp dark charcoal gray suit emphasizes the wideness of his shoulders and the line of his body as it flows from his strong neck to his lean waist and tight ass. People I hate are not supposed to be this fucking hot in a suit.

© Copyright 2015 Annie Anderson

- ABOUT THE AUTHOR -

ANNIE ANDERSON

Annie Anderson is originally from Dallas, Texas but has lived in England, Las Vegas (because Las Vegas and the state of Nevada are two very different places), New Mexico, Illinois, Florida and Georgia. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two kids, and an old man of a dog. 

- AUTHOR FuN FaCts -

• I’m a veteran. I served 4 years Active Duty and 2 years Reserve in the United States Air Force.

• My favorite color is cerulean. (Yes, I know it’s pompous, and I don’t care.)

• I hate lettuce. 

• I am actually pissy after a good workout. Like rip my shoes off and pout on the carpet, pissy. I work out at least 3-6 days a week, and throw a 2-year-old fit every single time. I hate being hot, so much.

• I love math. I seriously considered becoming a high school math teacher when I was in college. 

• I order pizza with no cheese on it. I don't like melted cheese. I like solid cheese and liquified cheese but the in-between stringy yuck on pizza? No. But I love pizza, so I order it cheese-less. (My daughters eat it this way as well.)

• I read obnoxiously fast. When I’m not writing or running after children, I can read about 4 books a day.

• I suffer from RBF (Resting Bitch Face). I’m not mad. This is just how my face looks.

• I’ve been married for almost 10 years to my awesome husband. He's put up with my picky, blunt, RBF-having self for a decade. The man deserves a medal.

• I like to sew. And craft. And paint. And organize. And clean. I think I missed the day when they passed out left-brain, right-brain cards in school.

- SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS -

Facebook    Twitter    Website    Goodreads

- GIVEAWAY -

a Rafflecopter giveaway

This tour is brought to you by:

Scattered Ashes by Annie Anderson RELEASE DAY BLITZ!!

SCATTERED ASHES
by Annie Anderson

Genre: Paranormal Romance

- SYNOPSIS -

Aurelia Constantine is having a rough century. 

Plagued by visions of murder, death and destruction, she has resigned herself to the nightmare her life has become. When an enemy from her past comes to her rescue, she must let go of old wounds and heal the breach so she may survive the evil poisoning her mind. 

Rhys Stevens is guilty. 

Murder. Betrayal. Treason. Take your pick; he’s guilty of them all. On the path of redemption, he must beg for forgiveness from the one person he fought to save - the woman he has always loved. 

Thrown together in the trenches of war, they must work as a team to stop a monstrous puppet master from pulling their strings.

Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.

Get ready to burn.

- PURCHASE -

                

AMAZON US Paperback
AMAZON UK Paperback

- EXCERPT -

You’d ask what kind of psychic I am. Well, I’ll tell you: I’m the shitty kind. I see maybe ten percent of what I should, and I can’t change a fucking second of it. I see what I see, and then I brace because it’s going to happen. There isn’t a thing I can do.

Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a waste of time, and it weighs too much on my heart.

And on my mind.

Let’s not forget about the tenuous hold I have on sanity. I just thank the universe I live alone now. How many times could I have woken a roommate, looking like a horror movie reject before I booked a one-way ticket to a padded cell? I’ve already lived through one involuntary incarceration under an insane Primary’s thumb; a repeat stay is not in my future.

I’d rather chew a bullet.

Hiding my abilities when under constant surveillance is almost impossible. I’m a Seer, born with the ability to observe things that will come to pass in vivid Technicolor inside my little noggin, hence that lovely dream. I also sometimes randomly electrocute people without meaning to. Well, sometimes I mean to, but not all the time, and that is pretty scary. If people weren’t already looking at me funny before, which they are because as a Seer, my eyes freak people way the fuck out, they would after I zapped the crap out of them randomly.

Then there’s the phasing. As a fledgling, I sometimes transitioned from my resting form to the ethereal without even trying. Meaning, when I got angry or upset, I would burst into flames, and my wings would pop out. I got angry a lot in those days.

Yes, I am a bloodthirsty little thing. No, I don’t have any problem inflicting violence when I deem it necessary. Yes, ‘when I’m pissed’ falls under the necessary column.

Okay, I should explain the eye thing. You see (pun intended) my eyes are a very pale, milky green. All the time. You remember old westerns where the old guy is blind, and he has those freaky eyes where the iris and pupil nearly blend into the sclera? Yep, you guessed it, that’s what’s going on here.

Only I’m not blind.

And I wear contacts when I go outside because if I don’t people assume I’m blind, for one, and their face says they are squicked way the hell out, for numero dos. Also, when I’m pissed they kind of, well, glow.

Like an incandescent bulb, glow.

So the fact I’m not exactly human is really fucking obvious.

Hello, my name is Aurelia Constantine, and I am a Phoenix.

© Copyright 2015 Annie Anderson

- ABOUT THE AUTHOR - 

ANNIE ANDERSON

Annie Anderson is originally from Dallas, Texas but has lived in England, Las Vegas (because Las Vegas and the state of Nevada are two very different places), New Mexico, Illinois, Florida and Georgia. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two kids, and an old man of a dog. 

- SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS -

Facebook    Twitter    Website    Goodreads

- GIVEAWAY -

a Rafflecopter giveaway

This tour is brought to you by:

Rip by Rachel Van Dyken RELEASE DAY BLITZ!

Rachel Van Dyken brings you Rip a complete stand alone novel that fans of the Eagle Elite series will devour! With twists and turns you won't see coming, this dark romantic suspense will keep you on your toes and leave you screaming for more.

Pretty things aren't meant to be broken.

But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.

I'm her nightmare.

I'm her savior.

And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.

She doesn't remember me.

She will.

It's inevitable.

Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury--I can't.

She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.

I bit.

I tasted.

I fell.

Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death, is your only future.

            

Smashwords

★★★★★

After the brief glimpses of Nikolai Blazik in Elude I really wasn't sure what to expect going into Rip but I really enjoyed learning all about him, and Maya too! Rip is an Eagle Elite series spin off but a warning to you squeamish ones, there is a fair bit of bloodshed in this one and in some unique ways too.

I was so surprised by how much I loved Nik and Maya and more than that their journey, their relationship is just so complex and unique, totally unexpected in so many ways. Their story unfolds in the most gripping way, so gripping in fact that I was hooked within a few chapters, pages probably if I'm honest with myself. My emotions were up and down from the very first page, it was like they were on a trampoline flying into the air before they came crashing back down again right a long with Nik and Maya's no doubt! The story quite literally has everything, great characters, amazing storyline and the Italians that I have grown to love from the Eagle Elite series, they definitely injected some humour in places that had me laughing so hard, the Italian and Russian banter always made me grin without fail.

It has to be said that Rachel knows how to create some phenomenal characters, all of her past characters are proof of that and Nik and Maya are no exception, they are fully formed and so unique from anything I've ever read that it truly is mind blowing, they have flaws just like real, living, breathing people and that is one of the many things that set Rachel's books apart for me, her very real characters.

Thank you Rachel for another incredible book! :)

EXCERPT

“So.” She plopped into the seat next to me and crossed her long legs. I fought hard to pull my eyes away. “Catch me up, what exactly are we doing in Chicago.”
I opened a folder and slid it across the table. “We are doing nothing. I, however, am making a speech at…a church.”
I didn’t miss her snort, or the way she tried to hide her amusement.
“Something funny?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “In church.”
“Where did this attitude come from?”
“You kissed me.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back into her seat, not missing a beat as she let her gaze wander across my body like a caress. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good, to be desired, wanted, and it was a welcome distraction from the pit in my stomach. I really, really didn’t want to go to Chicago.
“You kissed me back,” I retorted.
“Doesn’t matter, you still kissed me. The line between beast and his little toy has been crossed, therefore I kind of own you like you own me, just in a more...irritating way. I have your balls in a vise.”
“Let’s leave my balls out of the speech if you don’t mind,” I said ignoring her little ploy to get under my skin again.
“Hey.” Her grin spread smugly across her pretty face. “It may just inspire the crap out of them, you never know.”
This was a conversation that Andi would have loved, in fact, the more Maya talked the more I saw Andi in her, which just made it that much worse. Here Maya thought I was going to Chicago to slap hands with rich doctors and make speeches, when really, I was going because I made a promise, to a dying girl.
Just one more girl, I’d failed to save.
“Let’s leave all references to body parts out of my speech, hmm?”
“I’ll try.”
“I am the boss.”
“So you are.”
“I’ve created a monster. Had I known feeding you would gain this response I would have tied you up in the basement with a protein bar and some Gatorade.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s Netflix. Orange is the New Black combined with the nightmares…” She yawned and it was then that I noticed how tired she looked.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat wanting to press things further, what kind of nightmares had she been having?
“I haven’t been sleeping much. Then again I blame you for keeping me from technology for so long.”
“Which brings us back full circle. I should have never given you such privileges.” My voice came out in a bark.
“It’s a right, not a privilege,” she snapped.
“So this…” What the hell was it? A eulogy? Not really, that was Sergio, but he’d asked me to say a few words. Shit. I struggled with how to ask, I didn’t know the first thing about being at a funeral, I put people in the casket, I didn’t visit them after they took their last breath. My eyes stung with exhaustion. “I need you to help me write it.”
“Wait...” She visibly paled. “What did you say?”
“Write.” I nodded encouragingly, my anger surging, breaking through all of my carefully constructed walls. Anger had no place in my business, in my life, and anger toward her, did nothing but put her in danger. “You know, words on a paper, you put them down, I say them.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“Maya…” I tsked. “I am what I am.”
“Put that in your speech.”
“Maya.” I grit my teeth together to keep myself from snapping at her. “I need a speech, something…encouraging, inspirational, happy.”
Maya pulled out her laptop and opened it up. “Inspirational…I can do inspirational. When was the last time I was inspired…?” Her cheeks bloomed red.
“What was that?” I breathed, my eyes lowering to the expanse of cleavage, it was a welcome distraction from my morose and jumbled thoughts. “Didn’t catch what you just said.”
“I, uh, didn’t say anything.” She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her cheeks pinkening even further.
“Your mouth didn’t…your face did.”
“Let’s not talk about my mouth…”
“Why?” I leaned in. “Does it inspire you too much?”
“Ass!” she hissed.
“I think you’re on to something…” I chuckled, bracing my hands on the armrests. Six inches, and our mouths would touch. I wasn’t just toying with breaking the contract, I was ripping it up, burning it. Just as our mouths were about to touch, I paused, lingering where our breaths mingled, hers warm on my lips, mine ragged and needy. I was right about one thing; she would be a welcome distraction, one that wouldn’t allow me to feel sad, or bothered by the fact that I was flying to a friend’s funeral.
And that history, if I wasn’t careful could repeat itself.
She moved, dislodging her water bottle. It landed with a soft thump on the floor.
I reared back and stared at it.
What the hell was I doing?
And as luck would have it, the water droplets had cascaded against my left hand, my tattoo—the mark of the sickle, the mark that would tell anyone who knew anything about the darker side of life.
What I did.
Who I worked for.
What I was capable of.
What I would do—to protect not just my own identity but those closest to me.
My phone rang.
I reached down to silence it—ready to silence it, when I noted the number. Cringing, I answered it with a smooth hello.
“You know I have eyes everywhere.”
“Good afternoon to you, too.”
Maya pretended not to eavesdrop.
The last thing she needed to know was that I was talking to her father—correction, receiving another threat.
This one not so baseless as the rest.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, waiting for his response.
“She’s been touched.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sure about that?”
The line crackled.
“She flushes when you’re near.”
“Most women do.”
“Cocky son of a bitch.” He chuckled. “Remember the terms of our agreement, Nikolai, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. She means nothing to me. You are the one who has everything to lose. You’ve developed a god complex, but I know all your secrets. It would take nothing for me to destroy you. You signed in blood. And it will be your blood that is spilled if you go back on your promise.”
My nostrils flared, heat surged through my body as I watched Maya happily pull out a magazine and cross her legs. Damn it, he was right. What the hell was I doing?
My lack of self control would end up getting her killed.
I knew that just as much as he did.
I was stuck.
And he knew it. Part of me wondered if he was aware that I’d developed a conscience—then again, I’d stopped working directly with him long ago, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t still owned.
“We’ll be in touch.” The phone went dead.
Damn Russian mafia.
And damn me for being one of the best. I didn’t get the nickname The Doctor because I had a good bedside manner.
And I wondered, as I tried not to stare too hard at Maya while she read through her magazine, would she still be alive if I hadn’t have taken the job that changed everything?
Had I damn her, then?
Had I truly saved her?
I let out a low growl of frustration; clenching my phone in my hand, ready to break it in half. I wanted so desperately to protect her from Andi’s fate, but would it be better that she died?
My body tensed.
Would I be extending her mercy, by snuffing out her life?
Maya frowned down at the magazine, her eyebrows furrowed as the plane rose to altitude.
I didn’t shake, didn’t so much as tremble. I was a doctor, after all, and whenever I made a decision of life and death, I was calm. Humanity didn’t slip through. I didn’t have a come –to-Jesus moment, where I wondered if what I was doing would sentence me to the darkest depths of hell.
It was…clarity.
The only way I could explain it.
“Something else to drink?” I asked Maya while she popped her knuckles again. Shit, twice in a few minutes? Was there something about the plane? Or my conversation?
“Wine.” She said quickly. “If you have it.”
I nodded, already walking to the bar. I glanced to my left to make sure she wasn’t watching me, then reached into the cupboard and pulled out a syringe of sodium pentothal. It wouldn’t harm her. If anything, it would relax her more, make it so that I would be able to hold a conversation with her…without her remembering a damn thing, though the dosage needed to be precise. The last thing I needed was for her to end up unconscious.
“What time is it?” I asked while I poured the wine, keeping the small syringe in my right hand.
“Oh.” Maya yawned then glanced at her watch. “It’s nearing four in the afternoon, why?”
“Just thinking about our dinner plans,” I lied. Two and a half hours since she’d last eaten. I mentally went over her stats, weight one-forty, height five seven. She’d need a half dose at the most.
Clearing my throat, I turned, sliding the syringe into the top of my sleeve and bringing over the two glasses of wine; hers was more full.
“Wow, generous in all areas aren’t you, Nikolai?” Maya eyed the wine glass and took a long sip.
“Drink it all,” I instructed with a half smile. “Doctor’s orders.”
“All of it?” She laughed lifting the glass into the air. “This is at least two glasses.”
“At least half,” I said in a more gentle tone. “You seem stressed, and I know…I’m not the easiest to travel with.”
Maya blinked then took another sip of wine. “No, you think?”
“It’s a…” I coughed into my hand letting the syringe slip out to the tips of my fingers. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, setting her wine down on the arm rest.
“Nope.” I offered a encouraging smile. “A few more sips, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”
Maya rolled her eyes but drank deeply.
The alcohol would work beautifully with the sodium pentothal. Truth serums, didn’t necessarily work by themselves, they were used in conjunction with other tools and drugs, allowing the human mind to be open to suggestion.
But no human mind or body was the same, meaning, the outcome was always different.
If Maya had any sort of…secret she was keeping close, something she wanted to tell me, but couldn’t or refused to, it would most likely come out at some point in the next half hour.
If she were harboring memories, dark ones, ones that scared her, and I offered her a caring ear, she’d jump at it.
And I’d know.
If she was getting triggered and how.
It sounded sick.
But it was of the utmost importance that she be kept in the dark, especially since her father clearly was still keeping eyes on her.
I told myself that as she drank more wine.

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken  or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com 

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Rip by Rachel Van Dyken BLOG TOUR!

Pretty things aren't meant to be broken.

But I broke her, and now we both have to pay the price.

I'm her nightmare.

I'm her savior.

And now that I have her signature on an ironclad contract, I own her body and soul.

She doesn't remember me.

She will.

It's inevitable.

Because as much as I know I need to stay away, for fear of unlocking the memories I helped her father bury--I can't.

She was the apple in the Garden, dangled in front of me, her core so tempting and sweet. A voice whispered. Just. One. Bite.

I bit.

I tasted.

I fell.

Welcome to the world of the Russian mafia, where death, is your only future.

Smashwords

★★★★★

After the brief glimpses of Nikolai Blazik in Elude I really wasn't sure what to expect going into Rip but I really enjoyed learning all about him, and Maya too! Rip is an Eagle Elite series spin off but a warning to you squeamish ones, there is a fair bit of bloodshed in this one and in some unique ways too.

I was so surprised by how much I loved Nik and Maya and more than that their journey, their relationship is just so complex and unique, totally unexpected in so many ways. Their story unfolds in the most gripping way, so gripping in fact that I was hooked within a few chapters, pages probably if I'm honest with myself. My emotions were up and down from the very first page, it was like they were on a trampoline flying into the air before they came crashing back down again right a long with Nik and Maya's no doubt! The story quite literally has everything, great characters, amazing storyline and the Italians that I have grown to love from the Eagle Elite series, they definitely injected some humour in places that had me laughing so hard, the Italian and Russian banter always made me grin without fail.

It has to be said that Rachel knows how to create some phenomenal characters, all of her past characters are proof of that and Nik and Maya are no exception, they are fully formed and so unique from anything I've ever read that it truly is mind blowing, they have flaws just like real, living, breathing people and that is one of the many things that set Rachel's books apart for me, her very real characters.

Thank you Rachel for another incredible book! :)

EXCERPT #2

“You,” I said simply. “It all leads to you. Everything. And I think, for now…” I leaned up, brushing my lips across his. “That’s all that matters.”

“And if I’m the key to both your survival and your destruction, what then?”

“You mean what if your water is poison?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Then I want to drink.”

There were two seconds.

Two brief moments in time.

When I felt my heart race and wondered if it matched his as Nikolai took a steadying breath… then swallowed hard.

One beat against my chest, and his lips were touching mine.

Two beats as my heart picked up speed, and I could feel the heat of his mouth as he slid his tongue across my lower lip.

I moaned in response, reaching around his neck, grasping fistfuls of his hair and tugging as his body moved against mine. Without breaking the kiss, Nikolai found the hem of my cotton T-shirt, lifted it and pulled it over my head, our mouths parting for seconds before, with a sizzle of heat, they met again, and again. Each time our lips grazed it felt new, and yet familiar, like we’d shared hundreds of kisses, thousands of embraces.

He leaned back and helped me to a sitting position, his muscles flexing from holding his own weight. Moonlight shone across the planes of his firm chest. Something about Nikolai’s masculine beauty was lethal, so dangerous that my heart raced even harder. He frowned, pressing his palm to my chest as if trying to calm me down.

I wasn’t safe.

Not in his arms. 

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken  or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

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