Available Today from Champagne Book Group and Carnal Passions First and Ten: Let the Games Begin A Swinging Gate Sports Romance

In love and football, winners are only determined by how long one's heart stays invested in the game. 

Now available at all third party retail sites and Carnal Passions

Spotlight on Graeme Brown and The Pact

I'm thrilled to welcome fellow author Graeme Brown to my house today. Dark epic fantasy readers will fall in love with Graeme's new book, The Pact--available now at Burst Books! 

Welcome Graeme!

 Check out this cover for THE PACT. Isn't it gorgeous?

BLURB

Enter the world of Will Lesterall, a boy who’s grown up in the safety of his father’s castle.

Tales of the outside world ruled by warring kings and creatures of nightmare have never seemed a threat, yet on the night celebrating the two hundredth year of the sacred Pact that has kept Fort Lesterall safe, a secret intrigue ripens, and in the course of a few hours Will is confronted with a choice greater than he can comprehend.

Join an unlikely hero as destiny pulls him into the middle of an ancient conflict between fallen gods and ambitious women, one that demands blood, both holy and wicked, and the power of an ancient fire bound in steel. As swords clash below a watching wood, hope and betrayal war as fiercely as fear and valor.

Whether he lives or dies, Will Lesterall will never be the same.

Excerpt

The Stablehouse climbed three stories, a narrow building just twenty feet shy from touching the top of the double outer wall that surrounded the castle’s north flank. Lights shone in the top floor windows and a few others at ground level, where the horses were kept. Will hurried across the dark stones. The soft tap of his shoes against the cobbles echoed in the empty Square. In the middle, where the ground sloped down toward the sewer drains, the statue of Amarr the Barbarian cast a long shadow. Will passed into it and stopped. He heard voices.

Two men spoke in hushed tones, but their words carried when the wind wasn’t gusting.

“It’s that hag, I tell ya,” came one voice. “She’s roundin’ them up, preparing one of her big spells, she is. I heards there’s a sacrifice comin’, and she means to raise the dead.”

“Don’t be stupid, Roth.” Will recognized the raspy tone at once. It belonged to Mern, the whitesmith, whose half-slashed throat had never fully healed. Will squinted, but couldn’t see where the voices came from, other than realizing they drifted over from the dark, walled yard outside Hellistead’s Tavern.

“I’ll not have ya callin’ me stupid. Oh no. I know what this is about an’hoo. You’re just afraids, justs protectin’ yurself. Ya know whatcha got in it, ands I don’t blame you for bitin’ your tongue.”

“Quiet, you hay-brained crofter,” Mern spat. “Tonight’s not a night to whisper about such treacheries. The Lord Ham will cut your tongue out, and the world’ll be a better place for it if he does.”

“Old Cren will put it back, if he do, but I says he’d best act quick, or he’ll be lacking for the parts as fits him proper. The night’s black, Mern, and it’s gettin’ blacker yet.”

There was a hollow clatter, then sharp hisses. The man who spoke improperly cursed in words that would have made Grandma Mae gasp then Will heard quick footsteps and a series of clunks. He looked back to the castle, to where father gathered his fighters, then the other way, to the Stablehouse. If father’s in trouble, I have to warn him. Will knew his words wouldn’t be taken seriously, though.

He began to run across the stone expanse. Fort Lesterall won’t fall. Mern’s a wicked man, and whoever that other one is, he’s got no wits. Cren’s just an old woman who lives in the woods. She probably doesn’t even exist.

The side door to the Stablehouse opened as Will arrived, revealing a long labyrinth of stalls lit by rows of hanging lanterns. Jak peeked from behind the door, and Will slipped inside. When the older boy closed it, the dangerous night seemed far away. They were alone, Jak peering at Will, a curry comb still clasped in his hand. He was broad-limbed and of average height, with tousled hair the color of wet earth and eyes like onyx. As usual, he smelled of straw and horse manure, but that only made him all the more inviting.

Jak grinned. “I thought you’d hurry over after the feast proper. Too many clouds tonight, though. I’m afraid we won’t be spying Hell’s Cap, but I’ve another surprise for you. Found it myself, last night.”

“We won’t be going to the groves, Jak.” Will lowered his voice. “The Unborns are going to attack. Alter Dun showed the Red Token. That means the Unborns have challenged us. The Pact is broken. Even as we speak, my father’s gathering an army.”

“Of course he is.” Will turned toward the metal spiral stair. Barrik, a wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bushy moustache, bent his impressive height as he descended from the second floor serving quarters. “I’ve a hundred retainers to see to and that’s lots of horseshit, my little prince. A good thing they’ve taken to the barracks. I’m full, and there’s a thousand more coming, twenty companies marching under you uncle’s banner knight, Telliken. If we hold the night, then there will be others, and we’ll feed the Unborns hell like they haven’t seen in centuries. But if what I’ve heard’s true, then they have hell to feed us first, before we can draw breath.”

Will gaped at the Master of Stables then shook his head fiercely. “Fort Lesterall cannot fall.”

Barrik grunted, though it sounded like a laugh. He picked up a pail and carried it to a nearby stall. “I wish I believed that, lad, but this world’s not run on luck, I’m afraid. A man forges his own blade then learns to use it, or he gets cut by everyone around him. This world’s a fierce battlefield, a bitch with a thousand teeth.”

“We can fight with them,” Jak insisted. “I’ve practiced with the sword you gave me lots of times in the groves. I’m not bad.”

“You would be with armor on.” Barrik came out of the stall with a pail full of black dung. He looked at Will, at Jak, his expression grave. “No, you boys have another errand...

Author Bio

Graeme Brown is has been enchanted by the epic fantasy genre since he was a child, and consequently he started creating his own world with its stories at the age of thirteen. Influenced by writers like J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Jordan, and George R. R. Martin, he has finally brought the first of those stories to life with his debut title, a short story called The Pact—48 pages that will whisk you away to a dark, medieval fantasy world with gritty realism. When he’s not writing, he can be found exploring number theory problems or writing computer programs, training for a marathon, or unwinding in a yoga hot room. He has also explored other facets of art, both as a hobby and a profession, including vector graphics, pen and ink, classical piano, and web design. He is busy working on the first of many sequels to The Pact, A Thousand Roads.

Links

Website: http://www.graemebrownart.com/the_pact.html

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GraemeBrownWpg

Purchase: http://burstbooks.ca/product.php?id_product=95

Spotlight on USA Today Bestseller Julia Kent and Suspiciously Obedient

My guest today is USA Today Bestseller Julia Kent. Julia's latest book, Suspiciously Obedient is available now at all third party retail sites. Welcome, Julia!

  

Blurb:

From USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent comes the second book in her "Obedient" trilogy:

AFTER A BILLION PEOPLE WATCH YOU MAKE LOVE, WHERE DO YOU HIDE?

A fake persona with very real emotions...

As "Matt Jones," CEO playboy Michael Bournham has just stumbled into his wildest dream and worst nightmare while playing a middle-management employee role for a reality television stunt. Getting caught making love with his administrative assistant, Lydia Charles, on camera let unscrupulous Hollywood producers blackmail him before launching the video on YouTube. Fired from his job and ridiculed on social media, Mike needs to hit "reboot" on his life. Hiding Lydia away in Iceland with a made-up job, he sends his best friend Jeremy to watch over her. Meanwhile, he disguises himself once more and booked a cabin at Lydia's family's campground in Maine, to immerse himself in her world.

A best friend with deeper intentions...

After more than a decade of world travel and hedonistic fun, dot-com millionaire Jeremy wants more out of his friendship with Mike, but more than that - he wants Lydia. Struck by her beauty and essence, he follows Mike's order and obeys, courting her with a friendship that quickly becomes a deeper bond, charged by Lydia's fantasies about him - and Mike. Unable to resist, he becomes her confidante and bedmate, helping her to come to grips with her impulsive decisions and to find her way back home to Maine.

A woman torn by desire...

Lydia accepts the move to Iceland to become the Director of Communications for European Operations not realizing it's a sham position Michael Bournham created to help hide her from the firestorm of the viral sex tape. Living in a new country should be fun, but side glances and whispers from her new Icelandic employees dig at her. Ignored by her new boss at Bournham Industries, Lydia's disenchantment with her bold move is softened only by Jeremy's appearance. Wild and loose, he fills a void in her life - and soon fills her bed.

When she decides there's no place like home, the new couple embarks for her family's campground - and Jeremy's suspicious obedience will be revealed.
-----------------------

Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe.

She is originally from Ohio.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at jkentauthor@gmail.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/julia.kent.100. Visit my blog at http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com

Links:

Amazon
B&N
Kobo
Smashwords

Spotlight on Author Cerise DeLand and Steal Me Away

Today, our spotlight is on one of my favorite authors (and yours!) Cerise DeLand. I invited her to tell us all about her latest Ellora's Cave release, Steal Me Away!




Cerise DeLand: History Nut or Why I Like Comanches!

Say what?

Yes, living in Texas and being a history nut, I have read a lot of the State’s history. Anglo women were often stolen by the Comanche Indians and taken as hostages, prisoners and sometimes kept and made their wives.

Many Anglo children were captured by the local natives who became furious at the intrusion of the white man into his hunting and burial grounds. Then when cholera afflicted so many Indians and when measles and mumps felled thousands more, the natives stole children to replace the ones who had died. Many times, young women were abducted and taken to replace the wives the Indians had lost to death and disease.

In 1836, Cynthia Anne Parker, a 9 year old Anglo girl who grew up to marry a chief and bear him four sons and a daughter, was the first of these Anglos stolen. Texas Rangers, sheriffs and many local posses searched for the child for years. Not until she was an adult did her uncle take her back to her family. But once among them, she disliked the life and ran away. Yes, she returned to her Comanche husband.

Why did she return?

I venture to say she returned because she had been nurtured in that native environment and she felt out of place among her Anglo family and neighbors. Stories abound of white women and men who had been taken by Indians and returned, but were then shunned by their families and friends for their association.

Could she have loved her Comanche husband? Yes, she could have. We love what we know and what we revere. We also come to love the characteristics of a person, seeing beyond a person’s race or color or ethnicity.

But I will say that life among the Comanche was far from romantic. In my newest EC release, coming soon, STEAL ME AWAY, (no cover, no release date yet) I tell the story of an Anglo woman, Fancy Turner, stolen by a Comanche chieftain in the Hill Country of Texas in 1866. Fancy knows Bull Elk because she has seen him at powwows among the Comanche and the settlers. She likes him for his willingness to come to a powwow. He speaks English and a bit of Spanish, as many did because they had to do so to get along with the Anglo and Tejano settlers.

He understands many of the Anglo customs and so he does not insist that Fancy have her blonde hair coated with bear grease on their wedding night. He is distressed for her when she cannot easily digest their meat-based diet. When she asks him to get peaches for her from the German farmers near Fredericksburg, he tells her he will have to steal them. Conflicted that he must take from her friends to help her, nonetheless she doesn’t stop him. She needs to eat fruit.

Yes, I have written a romance—an erotic one at that. I did make Bull Elk an Alpha male worthy of a woman who adores him. But he is also of his own culture.

And he is very heavily researched!

I hope you like him when he appears on the digital bookshelves. He is a good man, albeit not one of our time or our culture. He stole his wife, made her love him and kept her with the power of that.

We can forgive the man we love for many acts. Including stealing us from our pre-conceived notions of who we can and cannot love.

BUY LINKS for KNIGHTS IN BLACK LEATHER:

TIE ME DOWN

ROPE ME IN: Ebook
Print
Come visit me: Website Blog Twitter @cerisedeland

STEAL ME AWAY out May 8

BUY LINK: http://www.ellorascave.com/steal-me-away.html

Fancy Turner knows it isn’t wise to hunger for the touch of the virile Comanche chief, Bull Elk. She should catch a husband from among the few men who returned to Texas after the Civil War. But tall, bronze Bull Elk, in his feathers and buckskin, is so handsome—and forbidden.

When Bull Elk charges onto the ranch one morning and catches Fancy up in his arms, he knows he risks the anger of his own braves and the fury of the long knives to have her. He’ll risk everything to twist her golden hair in his fist, to caress the pale swell of her breast as no man has before him. He’ll have Fancy as his wife even if he has to fight his own people to make it so.

Thrust into a world she doesn’t understand, Fancy expects Bull Elk to take her. But never in her darkest fantasies does she expect to enjoy it so much. Bull Elk’s touch is possession, his kiss a brand, and to her shock Fancy finds that the only future she wants is the one she imagines in his arms.

Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2013, All rights reserved.

Excerpt:

She was mine. Only one other man, my younger brother, would ever be allowed to touch her again. And only if I gave him permission. As I sat there with her in my lap, testing my patience as my cock grew twice its normal size, I took my time caring for her. I kneaded her aching limbs and demonstrated how I would protect her, even from the likes of Knows Brown Bear. He deserved to die by my knife for his audacity to fuck her. That upstart had been an animal himself, having taken my happy youngest sister when she was only twelve to his tipi. There he had plunged his rod inside her so violently, she had bled and died days after. Now Knows Brown Bear was dead at my hand for daring to touch the woman who would be my wife, my Shining Moon.

I ran my hands over Fancy’s injured foot and knew she had twisted her muscles. To cure this, rest was best but we were far from our new camp. To marry me with a light heart, Shining Moon must learn that in addition to being her protector, I was kind. And so I tried the Anglos’ way to win a woman’s love.

I seized a crystal length of her hair and wound it round my wrist. I smiled while I drew her mouth to mine. She gazed upon my lips too long to be uninterested. That she was intrigued swelled my pride and my cock. I had much to show her about how a Comanche loved his wife and I would begin with this command. “Kiss me again, my moon.”

She jerked away. “I am surprised that you know how to kiss.”

I gave her the distance her shock and her pride demanded while I stared into her glorious blue eyes. “I do know very well,” I said with humor.

She did not smile. “You know much about us. And you speak English very well.”

I nodded. I was calm. Why not? Her flight from me was unnecessary. “Thank you.”

She shivered beneath my hands but her words were quick and bold. “How did you learn?”

“My father’s brother took an Anglo woman to wife.”

Those large, expressive blue-bonnet eyes widened in shock. “Took her?”

I would tell her what was necessary to show we were not evil and that if she opened her mind, she could learn to love us. And me. “She never returned to you. She never wished to go.”

Shining Moon swallowed hard, her nostrils flaring as she considered that. The idea that an Anglo woman would accept a Comanche stung her, but clearly it did not appall her. That confirmed for me that she was a smart woman, able to learn new ways without regret. “What is her name?”

“Bird Sings.”

“But…her white name. What was it?”

I shook my head. “This I do not know. You may ask her. She taught her language to me, my young brother, White Hawk and my sister, Willow Talks.”

“That’s how you can talk so easily with Herr Mannheim and the MacRaes at the powwows,” she said with some awe.

I agreed. “We make peace.”

She grabbed my hand and beseeched me with passion swimming in her eyes. “Oh, but Bull Elk you must realize that this capture will end the peace.”

I hoped not. Yet I had not watched my father and his father lead our people against the settlers all my life without the understanding that they were eager to ride off and kill others. My decision to take Shining Moon as my bride had been a heavy burden upon my mind for many months. Despite the cost to peace in these hills, I had seized her. Even the Great Spirit had confirmed for me in a dream that her men would not find her until she fled a fireball. I would keep her from any such conflagration and firmly in my bed, her legs spread wide for me to pleasure her. “I will have you.”

Her back stiffened, straight as an arrow. “They will come for me. Send out war parties. Hunt you down.”

“I do not fear.” And this was true. My mind was quiet. “Your men are few. Brother has killed brother in your war for many years.”

“Yes, even Sheriff MacRae and his older brother, the Ranger fought each other. But those two are strong and can gather many men from Austin and San Antonio.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No,” I said with more compassion, then I spread my fingers and ran them through her hair. Her curls felt thick and heavy, soft as the down of one of their lambs. With unrelenting power, I drew her lips to mine and spoke upon her flesh. “I am stronger and I will keep you.”

I kissed her then, her mouth all mine. Her will, floating into mine. Her body, pressing against mine. The persuasion she did not like. But at the feel of my tongue at the seam of her lips, she sighed and opened for my invasion. My tongue sank deeply into her cavern. As I predicted she would be, she was eager for me. And warm. And wet.

As her pussy would be for me tonight.

She broke our kiss. Her body heaving with outrage that she met my desire with her own. She pushed the flat of her hand against my chest and the tattoo I had the medicine man make for the sign of our coming union. “I will not be your slave. I would die first. I would find a way to—”

“Do not die.” I covered her hand with my own and ground her palm against my aching nipple. “Live with me.”

She struggled to wrench away.

I would not let her go. With a grunt, I shoved my hand between her legs, she wore no covering to her cat. That I liked and grinned at her, sweet woman that she was. Beneath my fingers, she grew hot and I was tempted to lift her skirts and stroke her juicy flesh. She would admit tonight that she belonged to me. I would show her how well my lance would fill her. This plump gatto, I would tame and pet and suck. “I am yours and soon, you will be mine and no other’s.”

Author Spotlight and Book of the Month: Blood Money by Erika Mitchell

I’m thrilled to welcome author Erika Mitchell. An award-winning author published by Champagne Books, Erika is here today by invitation to help us kick off a new regular feature here at my blog.

Each month I’ll write a review for a book of the month and post a feature for the author behind the novel. Some features will showcase books outside the romance genre. Erika’s book, Blood Money, is classified as a suspense or thriller.

I hope you enjoy our showcase for Erika Mitchell.
Pick up your copy of Blood Money by following the links below.
You don't want to miss this fantastic suspense novel!

Destiny Blaine

Blurb:

On the surface, Iraqi-born Azzam Abdullah is nothing more than the unremarkable head of accounting for what is, by all appearances, an innocuous global conglomerate. What’s not so innocuous is the fact that Sun Corp is one of the biggest terrorism financiers in the world.

After years of informing on Sun Corp’s secret deals to the CIA, an unfortunate confluence of events brings Azzam’s covert treachery to light. When Azzam is forced to flee London for America, Sun Corp’s ruthless CEO decides to use a woman from Azzam’s past to flush him out.

In a furious race against a heartless zealot’s deadline, Azzam is forced to decide what he values more: His newfound freedom, or the life of an innocent woman.

Excerpt from Blood Money:

He imagined homemade meals awaiting him after work, amiable companionship as they walked around Hampstead Heath in the evenings. He did not think that forty was too old to start a family, so he imagined adding to their little family until weekends were filled with football games and picnics, the mornings chaotic and the evenings relaxed.

There he stopped and forced himself to remember the real reason he was single. It was enough to dispel the happy fantasies entirely.

The car headed toward the Thames, then turned down a poorly lit side street lined with grungy warehouses. Glooming shadows swallowed the feeble light of sparse streetlights, turning the car’s headlights into searchlights. Their driver pulled up in front of a one-story warehouse sided by corrugated aluminum, the front of which was painted with a large number faded beyond easy recognition.

“This should only take a minute,” Omar said as he followed Azzam out of the car. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel, both of them stepping lightly so as to avoid scuffing their dress shoes. “Do you remember the deal you were working on three weeks ago?”

Azzam riffled through his memory. “Yes. You wanted me to siphon off one hundred fifty thousand pounds and deposit it by small increments into an offshore Swiss account.”

“That’s the one,” Omar said, prying the warehouse door’s handle up, then sliding the door open. “I thought you might enjoy seeing the fruits of your labor.”

Azzam followed him into a tidy warehouse. As his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights, he could see looming stacks of crated materials lining the walkway, each accompanied by travel documents and marked by a serial number. At the end of the walkway was an open space where a dozen men chatted and congregated around a tall, open crate. The men took note of Omar’s arrival by falling into a respectful silence.

Omar approached the crate and rested his fingers against the splintered lip. “Come over here, Azzam. Take a look.”

Azzam approached the crate with reluctance. He was aware of the tang of pine from the boards of the shipping crate, the caged smell of too many men in an enclosed space. He could not make out the contents of the box until he was standing right next to Omar. What he saw was a row of eight large glass cylinders filled with amber liquid nestled in a bed of wood shavings. The fluorescent lights imbued the cylinders with a sullen glow that reflected and magnified his dread.

“What are they?” he asked.

“Ricin.”

My Interview with Erika Mitchell, Author of Blood Money

Erika Mitchell is published by:

Destiny: Erika, Thank you so much for joining us today. I want to kick off the day by asking you to tell us a little about Blood Money. Tell us where you found your inspiration for the story and what motivated you to write this novel.

Erika: I started with the idea of a housewife getting kidnapped and threatened by terrorists because of a chance meeting years ago. From there, I started wondering who she might have met, what he was doing now, and how she ended up getting drawn into it. In a way, you could say I ended up coming up with this story backwards!

Destiny: Blood Money is a clear work of talent. You obviously didn't just take an idea, slap down a few ideas and run with them. You've created a wonderful story that you spent time developing. Take us through a typical day while you were writing your novel.

Erika: Thank you! I wrote this book while my son, who was a baby at the time, took his naps. I'd spend all day thinking about my story, and then run to my computer and type like mad the minute he was asleep. I rewrote and revised this novel several times after it was finished as I took classes and learned more about the craft of writing a novel.

Destiny: Tell us about the publication process for Blood Money. When you were offered a contract, how did you celebrate?

Erika: When Ellen told me she wanted to publish my novel, I made several loud, high-pitched, fast-talking phone calls to my husband and my mother, and then I did an impromptu happy dance with my son. I was pregnant with my daughter at the time, so the dance was less a dance and more an awkward waddle.

Destiny: Believe me, I understand the waddle. I'm not pregnant and still waddle when dancing is involved! Erika, who is your favorite character in Blood Money and why? Who or what do you think drives your character?

Erika: I think Shah is my favorite because he surprised me the most. I thought I knew him when I started writing, and he kept surprising me at every turn. He's a haunted man with miles of depth. How could I not love him?

Destiny: I would definitely agree with you on Shah. Without ruining the story for others, I'll just say his redemption process added a nice touch. Tell us what we can expect from you next, Erika?

Any special projects coming soon?

Erika: I just finished the first draft of a new novel two weeks ago. It features Bai Hsu, Azzam's CIA handler, and his adventures after the events of Blood Money. It's a lot of fun and will probably be the first book of a series featuring this unflappable spy. I'm currently working on helping a friend put a book together chronicling his six year battle with cancer. It's a lot of work but a definite labor of love.

Destiny: We'd love to know more about your friend's book so keep us updated and I'm thrilled to see a series for Bai. Excellent idea.  Erika, for the new writers out there, what piece of advice would you like to offer them?

Erika: If you're not having fun writing, blow something up in the book. ... In all seriousness, my advice would be to write what makes you happy and tell the story you've been given to tell. It doesn't matter if it'll never get published. The value of being a writer is in writing, not having written. Keep moving forward, be interested in everything, and have fun.

Destiny: Great advice. Tell us about your favorite things, Erika. What hobbies do you have? What genres do you like to read? How do you unwind after a day of writing?

Erika: I'm a stay at home mother to two busy children with a busy writing career and handsome husband. Spare time is hard to come by! If I do miraculously find myself with free time, I love riding horses, hiking, reading. going to the shooting range, drinking wine with friends, and eating the things other people have cooked for me. I unwind at the end of the day with a glass of wine and a good book. I'm not picky about genre, so long as the story is interesting.

Destiny: What are your writing goals for the future?

Erika: I'd love to develop my Bai Hsu series and see my friend's cancer memoir sell like hot cakes. My biggest writing goal is to keep improving at what I do, to keep learning from other writers and making each book I write better than the last.

The Review of Blood Money by Erika Mitchell

In Blood Money, Azzam Abdullah is in a very unique position to report his employer’s acts of terrorism. Reporting to his handler on a regular basis, Azzam plans to stay in position since he has his employer’s complete trust, but that trust soon turns to doubt and Azzam's life is on the line.

Omar, Azzam’s employer, has a problem on his hands when his business associates point an accusing finger in his direction. Realizing someone on his staff betrayed him, Omar starts searching for a mole and understands the person responsible is directly under his proverbial nose.

Azzam has a longstanding history with Omar and his family. When his cover is blown, he flees to America with his handler, but his problems are far from over. 

In fact, his troubles are just beginning.

Erika Mitchell’s Blood Money is a novel suspense fans won't want to miss.  While Blood Money didn’t pack a massive punch until well into Chapter Two, I kept reading because the author clearly had a command of the written word and her talent shines through on every page.

Once I reached the second chapter, I was not only invested in Blood Money, but I was certainly an Erika Mitchell fan. With interesting plot points and a gradual curve to the suspense building, Blood Money does not disappoint the reader who craves action and thrills. Morever, the author has an interesting writing voice that simply captivates her readers.

I love thrillers and suspense novels, with or without the romantic elements. I'm also a very hard sale in the genre. By the end of the novel, Ms. Mitchell was on my must-read list
right there at the top with Patterson and Baldacci.

In Blood Money, the author creates a strong sense of place, drawing the reader into the action in each scene with well written and quite vivid descriptions.

Details are never spared and the story moves at a great pace.

I recommend Blood Money by Erika Mitchell and I'm confident you'll love Erika's novel, too.

Check out Erika's Blog
Visit Erika on Twitter