Showing posts with label Giveaways. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giveaways. Show all posts

Inside the Pages: Prophecy of the Guardian by J.W. Baccaro & Giveaway! @jwbaccaro @pumpupyourbook #InsidethePages


 

"Not darkness, not light, perhaps something in between, and is claimed by the darkness...as theirs. Though being saved by the light, that which is saved must in turn save the world..."




By J.W. Baccaro

Title: PROPHECY OF THE GUARDIAN
Author: J.W. Baccaro
Publisher: JW Baccaro Publishing
Pages: 481
Genre: Epic Fantasy 


"Not darkness, not light, perhaps something in between, and is claimed by the darkness...as theirs. Though being saved by the light, that which is saved must in turn save the world..."

Darshun Luthais has never experienced the Nasharin Frenzy—the unbending will to challenge a stronger opponent, no matter the cost. He doesn’t know what he will transform into, has never bonded with an elemental crystal and has never seen any of the unearthly creatures his father talks about. Even though he’s an infant in Nasharin years, his life consists of nothing but constant training, striving to unlock the sleeping power his so-called accursed race is born with.

But all that changes when he is pursued by a Dream Assassin in the dead of night. What he witnesses will forever change his outlook on life and lead him on a quest only the strongest can complete.

This epic fantasy is action packed, all the way through. Definitely a powerhouse for fantasy lovers. It has plenty of dark magic, tons of bloody battles, and even some seductive tones.

The chosen one faces his destiny with tribulations that at times favor Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad. While reading I also felt it resembled Lord of the Rings especially due to its epic length. I can not stress enough how well detailed the story and characters are. Nothing is ever lost in the pages. The timeline is incredible and every aspect continues to build. Wonderful and fascinating!

It is involving, meeting the chosen one as a baby, watching him grow as a young boy into an adolescent, learning to fight, learning who he is, and learning to love. There are many secrets that unfold and characters to meet along the way. From witches to elves, to gnomes and trolls there is sorcery and magic around every turn. The creatures met along the way are descriptively colorful and incredibly likable. Even the darker ones! Well, there are some gross ones too as I think of it. You’ll see!

As a side note, the author does not hold back in his details of war and how brutal the effects are on the people and the land. He sets his world in a beautiful background, so exquisite and then details the destruction during bloodshed and battle.

I’m usually not into a lot of battle stuff. This series however carried so much with it, more than just a battle book. The action was absolutely a big part of the story and without it, the fantasy would not be the epic level that it is, of course! But, there is also the magical side, the mythical and mysterious wonderment. The creatures are so desirable and they stayed with me as I read the story. The colors of the world are so vivid. And actually the magical aspects are my favorite parts of all.”

~Cynthia Ellen Jones~  A Hippie’s Bookshelf: Reading, Reviewing and Bookish Vibes






Book Excerpt:

The clashing of swords began to fade as more and more men fell victim to the army of Asgoth. Outnumbered and outmatched, Asgoth had taken the peaceful city of Zithel by surprise. Human blood now painted the once beautiful infirmary gardens, vineyards, and cemetery orchards. Even the manmade fountain, where the people would cast in gemstones—a different stone for a different wish—now contained the heads of Zithelian fighters. The decapitated heads turned the water crimson as they bobbled within the pool.

Lord Adeleric and his wife remained trapped in the upper chamber of the tower, having no choice but to witness their people slaughtered. Heavy footsteps from outside of the chamber door neared as the enemy stormed up the stairway.

“Rosa, stay behind me!” Adeleric said, stepping in front of her quickly. “Don’t resist them. We may have a chance.”

“Are you sure it’s not our guards?” she asked.

He sighed. “…They’re all dead.”

Suddenly, what could have only been a dozen fists smashing against the door caused Rosa to scream.

“Stay calm,” Adeleric urged. “Let them come.”

The door was breeched and in rushed a horde of lizard-like men, each of them double the height of a common man. They looked around the chamber, seeing no other besides Adeleric and Rosa.

“You can have me,” Adeleric said.

“No!” Rosa begged, clenching his arm.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying to reassure her. “You killed my army yet spared our young boys and girls. Spare my wife as well. Let her go and take me. Whatever it is you want of me.”

One of the lizardmen snarled, showing its teeth that dripped with a discolored saliva. It spoke in its own tongue to the others, and they separated. Six lined up against the left wall, the others against the right.

            Around the corner and into the doorway stepped a woman. In one hand she held a staff, the other a decapitated head, swinging it back and forth by its matted and bloody hair. She stood at the entrance, smiling.

Adeleric cringed, recognizing the corpse’s face, one of the fallen guardsmen.

“This one especially wanted me to spare you,” the woman said. “His tone was desperate, unlike your other guardsmen. So, I ended his life painlessly.” She released the head. Striking the floor with a loud thump, it rolled off to the side.

The morning sun shined through the chamber window brighter now, illuminating the woman who had yet to move from the entrance. Adeleric got a better look at her. She was not dressed for battle, no protection except maybe her leather boots.  She wore a long flowing purple dress with a thigh high split. Because of the split, and the way she was standing, her right black boot was exposed and dripping with blood; likely from the decapitated head she had carried. Slowly, she began to walk toward Adeleric and his wife.

“I noticed a working fountain outside,” she said. “Beautifully carved from stone, with an abundant number of gems sitting at the bottom of the pool. I do love gems.”

            “What do you want?” Adeleric said, clenching a fist.

“Your home is the highest point of this mountain. The only source of water flows at the base of this mountain, the Azriel River. So, I ask, where are you receiving your water source?”

“Water has always flowed here, coming from within, spouting upward. We utilize it for drinking and ornamental purposes.”

“Water doesn’t flow upwards, you fool. Not unless affected by another source. You have no such source. No higher elevations, no way to channel it. Unless of course it is by magic. Perhaps this phenomenon is due to Arabeth’s crystal—his water crystal.”

“I am not aware of any such crystal.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “I am, and one of the four resides within this mountain.”

“One of the four?”

“The crystals of power from the first age, lost at the end of the second.”

“I repeat, I… know…nothing!”

She stopped abruptly, now standing an arm’s length from him. Her icy breath and violet gaze caused him to shudder. “Are you lying?”

“…I am not. Do whatever you want with me. Just let my wife go, please.”

She turned to Rosa who had been squeezing Adeleric’s hand. She leaned in closer to her, staring into her fearful eyes.

Rosa turned away, cringing.

She ran a finger across Rosa’s cheek, her long black nail scraping the skin. She stroked her hair, sifting her fingers through the strawberry blonde locks. “So beautiful, you are, dearest Rosa.” Her eyes fixed on Rosa’s jewelry; earrings made from amethyst and spinel necklaces of blue, red, and citrine. “Your husband must feel blessed, to have been given such a woman of splendor. Surely, your deities have been good to you. I too am somewhat of a deity, a goddess. Queen Talvenya is my name—”

“Do not compare yourself to my Rosa!” Adeleric shouted.

Something like a shockwave passed through the room, slightly heating the air, and splitting a section of the wall. The lizardmen kept still. Adeleric noticed sweat dripping from their scaly brows, as if they were afraid.

“Your jewelry, dearest Rosa, give it to me,” Talvenya commanded.

Fearing for his wife, Adeleric stepped in between the two.

Casting a glare, Talvenya reached for his left shoulder. Gripping the cap, a cracking of bone brought a smile to her face, and a scream out of Adeleric’s mouth. Next, she forced him to his knees, pushing down on the fractured shoulder.

“Please stop hurting him!” Rosa begged, quickly removing her earrings and necklaces. She placed the jewelry into Talvenya’s hand. “Keep them. They’re yours.”

“I do love gemstones,” she said, smiling delightfully. She put the necklaces on and then the earrings. “Each one tells a story, just like the four crystals of power you claim to know nothing about.”

“I don’t. Please, leave my Rosa alone,” Adeleric begged.

“You’re awfully fond of your Rosa. It’s quite precious.”

“We grew up together—share everything together.”

She scoffed. “And that makes her special?”

“…Please, I am the one you must deal with. I am the Lord of this land.”

Talvenya pursed her lips. “Lord of what land, this pathetic little mountain top I so easily dominated?” She stepped closer to Rosa.

“Speak with me, I beg of you!”

“Oh, but dear Adeleric, you've already stated your ignorance of the crystals,” Talvenya mocked. She slid her hand down Rosa's chest, pressing her fingers against her left breast and tearing the clothing with her nail.

Rosa quivered, keeping her head aside, avoiding Talvenya’s stare.

Your Rosa…” She smiled. “I'm going to kill her.”

Adeleric rushed at her. Talvenya smacked him across the cheek and he fell to the floor, smashing his face against the granite tile.

“Adeleric!” Rosa cried.

He stood, wiping the blood trickling from his nose. “Queen Talvenya, goddess, deity—whoever you are, don't do this. I beg of you…”

Ignoring him, Talvenya placed a finger under Rosa's chin, and lifted to see her face, smiling at those terrified eyes and cascading tears.

“I'll do anything you command,” Adeleric pleaded. “I'll search the mountain for you, will not stop until that crystal is in my hands—for you. Only, don't harm my Rosa.”

She grinned. “Tell your husband to get down on his knees.”

“My knees?” Adeleric asked, before receiving another blow to the face from Talvenya's open palm. This time, he cried out in pain as his body hit the floor once again, face-down. His cheeks were black and blue, swelled and bleeding, and his chest throbbed because of the hard tile he had crashed onto. For a moment, he could not breathe.

“Stop hurting him!” Rosa shouted.

Talvenya grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off her feet.

Adeleric could hear Rosa gasping for air as her little legs wiggled back and forth. Quickly, he stood. “I'll do whatever you say, just put her down.”

She released her, and Rosa almost toppled over.

Adeleric rushed over, stretching an arm around her waist to keep his wife steady.

“While you are standing so close to her Adeleric, you should kiss your wife goodbye,” Talvenya said coldly. “It shall be the last time you taste those blush-red lips of hers.”

Adeleric wanted to fight her. He wanted to reach for his sword and separate Talvenya’s head from her body, see if such a cold-hearted creature drew blood. But he knew he would have no chance, especially with several lizardmen gathered around. So, he complied with Talvenya's suggestion, only he tried imagining the idea as his own. He would kiss her goodbye, passionately, believing he would see her again someday in another world, another realm, where hate and brutality ceased to exist. Reaching for her, he pressed his lips against hers wetting them, messaging them, and inserting his tongue to taste her sweetness.

Her eyes were full of tears and overwhelming passion.

Adeleric wiped the tears as their gazes continued to lock. Then, slowly, he pulled back. “Do not be afraid, my love. No matter what happens, we will always be together. That I promise you.”

“How touching,” Talvenya commented in a voice cold as ice accompanied by impish laughter. “Now, I command once more, dear Rosa. Tell your husband to get down on his knees.”

She whispered, “Adeler—”

“Speak the words aloud!”

She looked to Talvenya, a submissive gaze accompanied by a sigh of sorrow, then faced her husband once again. “…Adeleric, get down on your knees.”

Adeleric obeyed but tried imagining the command only came from his Rosa—not inspired by this so-called deity queen.

“Tell him you love him.”

“I—I love you,” Rosa cried, “…with all my heart.”

“And with all my heart, I love you,” Adeleric pled.

“Now, extend your hand,” Talvenya commanded.

Rosa obeyed.

“Adeleric, Lord of Zithel, take your wife's hand.”

Adeleric passed her a glare, and then looked to Rosa. Tears were still cascading down her cheeks. “Do not be afraid, Rosa,” he said, firmly gripping her palm.

“My heart—shall always belong to you,” she answered, lightly rubbing her thumb over his palm, letting him know she was aware of his warm touch, aware he was there by her side, no matter what fate awaited her.

“And I shall carry you in my heart, always and forever.” Adeleric closed his eyes and leaned over to kiss her palm. The warm sensation of her skin disappeared suddenly, replaced by what felt like cold stone. He noticed the same feeling on Rosa's hand. Opening his eyes, he fell back at what he saw. Rosa, from head to toe had become stone, like someone had carved a figure of her—immaculately.

He turned to look at Talvenya. She was holding her staff high, pointing it at Rosa. She cast the spell.

“Beautiful,” Talvenya said.

Adeleric sat speechless, his eyes still, never blinking. A difficult thing to accept; one moment he held Rosa’s hand, speaking with her, the next, she is a figure of stone. He squeezed her hand, perhaps to see if the hard element was real, and when the reality of it finally sank into his heart, he fell to tears.

Talvenya tapped the statue’s forehead with her finger. It fell back, cracking to pieces as it struck the floor. The severed head rolled toward Adeleric and bumped into his knee, stopping. He looked down on it, the face positioned upward, as if it returned the gaze. A smile sang on her cheeks—the last emotion his Rosa felt, happiness while Adeleric had been holding her hand. Teardrops spilled onto the face as he began to weep bitterly. He meant to pick up the head, perhaps to keep it to remember Rosa’s smile, but even that was taken away from him. A black leather boot stomped onto the head of stone, crumbling the face to pieces, grinding it to bits under the sole.

He peered up to see Talvenya, standing above him, smiling like a demon with a gaze of midnight darkness.

“What was the point of this…? Why did you—you do this?” he asked.

“All enemies are mere insects in my path. I do as I like.”

“That cannot be the reason…”

She stared at him a moment, her face going expressionless. “Why should she have what was taken away from me? Why should you not feel what I have felt?”

“But I know you not!” he shouted.

“…It matters not.”

“Then kill me—kill me too!”

“In time, I promise to.”

 


















J.W. Baccaro is the author of Prophecy of the Guardian, The Coming of the Light and Blood Dreams. Always a lover of creativity, from works of literature to writing music with his electric guitar; even baking and cooking. When not working on his next story or lost in a good book, J.W. enjoys kicking back with a couple of tasty craft beers and binging on Kaiju movies, 80’s action flicks, Japanese animation and slasher films (particularly the one involving a hockey mask). Heck, he even enjoys a good romantic comedy. Feel free to email him at jwbaccaro@yahoo.com. He lives in upstate NY with his wife Melissa, his son Alexander, his German Shepherd and his three cats.



J.W. Baccaro is giving away a set of paperbacks - Prophecy of the Guardian, The Coming of the Light and Blood Dreams!

Terms & Conditions:

  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive the set of books
  • This giveaway ends midnight July 30.
  • Winner will be contacted via email on August 1.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!





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The Road Not Taken Pre-Pub Blast & Win Autographed Copy!


THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Susan Rubin
Fantasy/Time Travel

The debut novel from Los Angeles-based playwright and filmmaker Susan Rubin is a trippy fantasy that uses time travel to explore the inner drives of a woman in midlife. In The Road Not Taken, a simple trip to the lipstick counter becomes an opportunity to unravel the mystery of self.


Widowed suddenly at age 50, Deborah is left with plenty of money but no direction to her life. Shedding her suburban housewife life, she moves back to the West Village where she grew up. When she meets a woman who appears to be an identical twin, Deborah discovers the Lost: a group of 100 fully-formed people who were dropped off on Earth as it cooled down and who have lived on the planet as it developed. The Lost show her the myriad dimensions of Spacetime, taking her to ancient Egypt, Weimar Germany, and planets without inhabitants. They reunite her with deceased loved ones. She forms relationships with an Egyptian god and a famous artist through whom she lives new truths and learns who she needs to become to walk the road not taken.

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Susan Rubin has written for Funny or Die, and in contrast, she’s written more than two dozen documentaries that highlight international women’s issues like domestic violence, forced child marriage, and untested rape kits accumulating in police evidence rooms. Rubin has used her skill, empathy, and compassion to render these darkest of topics into accessible films distributed to tens of thousands of college classrooms.

As a playwright, Rubin has, for 20 years, been the recipient of Los Angeles County Arts Commission Grants and Los Angeles Cultural Affairs Department Grants. She also was honored with a six-year residency at the prestigious Los Angeles Theatre Center. Her plays have been seen at New York Theatre Workshop, Baltimore Center Stage, and at every major 99 seat theatre in Los Angeles including co-productions with Bootleg Theatre, Circle X, Skylight Theatre to name a few. She is the recipient of Garland, Ovation and LA Weekly Awards. Visit her website at  http://www.susanrubinwriter.com/.


Susan Rubin is giving away an autographed copy of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one autographed paperback copy of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN.
  • This giveaway ends midnight August 28.
  • Winner will be contacted via email on August 29.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!

 

Win Autographed Copy of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by Susan Rubin!



THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Susan Rubin
Fantasy/Time Travel

The debut novel from Los Angeles-based playwright and filmmaker Susan Rubin is a trippy fantasy that uses time travel to explore the inner drives of a woman in midlife. In The Road Not Taken, a simple trip to the lipstick counter becomes an opportunity to unravel the mystery of self.


Widowed suddenly at age 50, Deborah is left with plenty of money but no direction to her life. Shedding her suburban housewife life, she moves back to the West Village where she grew up. When she meets a woman who appears to be an identical twin, Deborah discovers the Lost: a group of 100 fully-formed people who were dropped off on Earth as it cooled down and who have lived on the planet as it developed. The Lost show her the myriad dimensions of Spacetime, taking her to ancient Egypt, Weimar Germany, and planets without inhabitants. They reunite her with deceased loved ones. She forms relationships with an Egyptian god and a famous artist through whom she lives new truths and learns who she needs to become to walk the road not taken.

PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3jvZ9VJ










Susan Rubin has written for Funny or Die, and in contrast, she’s written more than two dozen documentaries that highlight international women’s issues like domestic violence, forced child marriage, and untested rape kits accumulating in police evidence rooms. Rubin has used her skill, empathy, and compassion to render these darkest of topics into accessible films distributed to tens of thousands of college classrooms.

As a playwright, Rubin has, for 20 years, been the recipient of Los Angeles County Arts Commission Grants and Los Angeles Cultural Affairs Department Grants. She also was honored with a six-year residency at the prestigious Los Angeles Theatre Center. Her plays have been seen at New York Theatre Workshop, Baltimore Center Stage, and at every major 99 seat theatre in Los Angeles including co-productions with Bootleg Theatre, Circle X, Skylight Theatre to name a few. She is the recipient of Garland, Ovation and LA Weekly Awards. Visit her website at  http://www.susanrubinwriter.com/.


Susan Rubin is giving away an autographed copy of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one autographed paperback copy of THE ROAD NOT TAKEN.
  • This giveaway ends midnight August 28.
  • Winner will be contacted via email on August 29.
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!


 

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You can order ONE SUMMER NIGHT right now! ONE SUMMER NIGHT by NY Times Bestselling Author and USA Today Bestselling Author Caridad Pineiro isn't officially released until October but you can order your copy now to make sure you're the first to get your copy! Oh wait - while you're looking over her book info below, be sure to sign up to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card! Good luck!




Title: ONE SUMMER NIGHT
Author: Caridad Pineiro
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Pages: 352
Genre: Contemporary Romance
An offer that’s impossible to accept . . .
Maggie Sinclair has tried everything to save her family’s business, including mortgaging their beloved beach house on the Jersey Shore. But now, she’s out of options.
The Sinclair and Pierce families have been neighbors and enemies for almost thirty years. That hasn’t stopped Owen Pierce from crushing on Maggie, and he’s determined to invest in her success. Now he has to convince her that he’s more than just trouble with a capital T…



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Tracy Parker was in love with being in love.
That worried her best friend and maid of honor Maggie Sinclair more than she cared to admit.
In the middle of the temporary dance floor, Tracy waltzed with her new husband in a satin-and-lace designer gown, gleaming with seed pearls and twinkling sequins. But the sparkle dimmed in comparison to the dreamy glow in Tracy’s eyes.
The sounds of wedding music competed with the gentle rustle of seagrasses in the dunes and the crash of the waves down on the beach. The fragrance from centerpiece flowers and bouquets battled with the kiss of fresh sea air.
Connie and Emma, Tracy’s two other best friends and members of the bridal party, were standing beside Maggie on the edge of the dance floor that had been set up on the great lawn of Maggie’s family’s beachfront mansion on the Jersey Shore. Huddled together, Maggie and her friends watched the happy couple do a final whirl.
“She’s got it so bad,” Maggie said, eyeing Connie and Emma with concern past the rim of her rapidly disappearing glass of champagne.
“Do you think that this time he really is The One?” Connie asked.
“Doubt it,” Emma replied without hesitation.
As the DJ requested that other couples join the happy newlyweds, Maggie and her friends returned to the bridal party dais set out on the patio. Grabbing another glass of champagne, Maggie craned her neck around the gigantic centerpiece piled with an almost obscene mound of white roses, ice-blue hydrangea, lisianthus, sheer tulle, and twinkling fairy lights and examined the assorted guests mingling around the great lawn and down by the boardwalk leading to the beach.
She recognized Tracy’s family from their various meetings over the years, as well as some of Tracy’s sorority sisters, like Toni Van Houten, who in the six years since graduation had managed to pop out a trio of boys who now circled her like sharks around a swimmer. Although the wedding invite had indicated No Children, Toni had done as she pleased. Since Tracy had not wanted a scene at her dream beachfront wedding, Emma, who was doing double duty as the wedding planner for the event, had scrambled to find space for the children at the dinner tables.
“Is that Toni ‘I’ll never ruin my body with babies’ Toni?” Connie asked, a perplexed look on her features.  At Maggie’s nod, Connie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she said, “She looks…happy.”
A cynical laugh erupted from Emma. “She looks crazed.”
Maggie couldn’t argue with either of their assessments. But as put-upon as their old acquaintance seemed, the indulgent smile she gave her youngest child was positively radiant.
Maggie skipped her gaze across the gathering to take note of all the other married folk. It was easy enough to pick them out from her vantage point on the dais where she and her friends sat on display like days’ old cakes in the bakery. They were the last three unmarried women in an extended circle of business and college acquaintances.
“How many times do you suppose we’ve been bridesmaids now?” Maggie wondered aloud. She finished off her glass and motioned for the waiter to bring another.
“Jointly or severally?” asked Connie, ever the lawyer.
“Way too many,” replied Emma, who, for a wedding planner, was the most ardent disbeliever in the possibility of happily ever afters.
Maggie hadn’t given marriage a first thought, much less a second, in a very long time. She’d had too many things going on in her life. Not that there hadn’t been a few memorable moments, most of which revolved around the absolutely worst man for her: Owen Pierce.
But for years now, she’d been dealing with her family’s business and its money problems, which had spilled over into her personal finances. As she gazed at the beauty of the manicured grounds and then back toward her family’s summer home, it occurred to her that this might be the last time she hosted a celebration like this here. She had mortgaged the property that she had inherited to funnel money into the family’s struggling retail store division.
Unfortunately, thanks to her father’s stubborn refusal to make changes to help the business, she spent way too much time at work, which left little time for romance. Not to mention that none of her casual dates had piqued her interest in that direction. Looking down from her perch, however, and seeing the happiness on so many faces suddenly had her reconsidering the merits of married life.
“Always a bridesmaid and never a bride,” she muttered, surprising herself with the hint of wistfulness in her tone.
“That’s because the three of us are all too busy working to search for Prince Charming,” Connie said, her defense as swift and impassioned as if she were arguing a case in court.
“Who even believes in that fairy-tale crap?” Emma’s gaze grew distracted, and she rose from her chair. “Excuse me for a moment. Carlo needs to see me about something.”
Emma rushed off to the side of the dance floor, where her caterer extraordinaire, Carlo Teixeira, raked a hand through his thick brown hair in clear frustration. He wore a pristine white chef’s jacket and pants that enhanced his dark good looks.
Emma laid a hand on Carlo’s forearm and leaned close to speak to him, apparently trying to resolve a problem.
“She doesn’t believe in fairy tales, but her Prince Charming is standing right in front of her,” Connie said with a sad shake of her head.
Maggie took another sip of her champagne and viewed the interaction between Carlo and Emma. Definitely major sparkage going on, she thought.
“You’re totally right,” she said with an assertive nod.
Connie smiled like the proverbial cat, her exotic green-gold eyes gleaming with mischief. “That’s why you hired me to represent your company as soon as I finished law school. Nothing gets past me.”
“Really? So what else do you think you’ve seen tonight?”
Raising her glass, her friend gestured toward the right of the mansion’s great lawn where some of the fraternity brothers from their alma mater had gathered. One of the men slowly turned to sneak a peek at them.
“Owen has been watching you all night long,” Connie said with a shrewd smile.
“Totally impossible, and you of all people should know it. Owen Pierce has absolutely no interest in me.”
She set her glass on the table to hide the nervous tremble of her hand as her gaze connected with his for the briefest of moments. Even that fleeting link was enough to raise her core temperature a few degrees. But what woman wouldn’t respond like that?
In his designer tuxedo, Owen was the epitome of male perfection—raven-black hair, a sexy gleam in his charcoal-gray eyes, broad shoulders, and not an ounce of fat on him, which made her recall seeing him in much, much less on a hot summer night on Sea Kiss Beach. She had been staying in the quaint seaside town on the Jersey Shore with her grandmother that summer, much as she had all her life. As they also had for so many years, the Pierce boys had been residing next door for the entire season.
The two beachfront mansions had been built side by side decades earlier, before the start of the Pierce and Sinclair rift. The cost of waterfront real estate had escalated so drastically since their construction that neither family was willing to sell their beloved home to put some distance between the warring clans.
Well, make that the warring fathers, because as far as Maggie was concerned, she had no beef with Owen. They had played together down on the beach as kids. She couldn’t count the many sand castles they’d built or the time they’d spent out in the surf.
But after her mother had died, things had changed, and the carefree spirit of those halcyon days had disappeared. The Pierce boys had stopped coming down to the Shore for the next few years, and combined with the loss of her mom, it had created an emptiness inside her that hadn’t really gone away.
By the time the Pierce brothers returned years later, the feud had gotten worse, and Owen and Jonathan had been instructed to stay away. But an ill-timed and half-drunk kiss with Owen on a moonlit summer night had proved that staying away was impossible. It had also helped the emptiness recede for a bit. Since then, fate had seemed to toss them together time and time again in both their business and personal lives, keeping alive her fascination with him. She felt not quite so alone when he was around, not that she should get used to that.
Owen Pierce had left her once before when she’d needed his friendship the most: right after her mother’s death. His on-again, off-again presence in her life proved that she couldn’t count on him.
Owen stood next to his younger brother, Jonathan, who couldn’t be more different. While Owen was clean-cut and corporate, Jonathan had the scruffy hipster look going on. It was appealing in its own way, but not to her.
“Trust me, Maggie. Your families might be at war, but Owen would clearly love to sleep with the enemy,” Connie said.
She blew out a frustrated sigh. “More reason to avoid him. You know I’m not the kind to sleep around.”
Emma returned, color riding high on her cheeks, but not in a good way.
“Something wrong?” Maggie asked.
Emma kneeled between the two of them and whispered, “It seems the groom had a bit too much to drink and Tracy caught him being hands-on with an old flame.”
“Not Amy? Tracy always lost it if she spotted him with Amy,” Maggie whispered.
“Definitely Amy. Now Tracy is refusing to come out and cut the cake. I have to say, this takes the cake, literally. Married a few hours, and already there’s trouble.”
“Ever the hopeful romantic, Em,” she kidded.
“If you think you can do better, why don’t the two of you come help me talk Tracy off the ledge?”




Caridad Pineiro is a transplanted Long Island girl who has fallen in love with pork roll and the Jersey Shore, but still can’t get the hang of tomato pies. When Caridad isn’t taking long strolls along the boardwalk to maintain her sanity and burn off that pork roll, she’s also a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author with over a million books sold worldwide. Caridad is passionate about writing and helping others explore and develop their skills as writers. She is a founding member of the Liberty States Fiction Writers and has presented workshops at the RT Book Club Convention, Romance Writers of America National Conference as well as various writing organizations throughout the country.

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Inside the Pages: COUNT THEIR GRAVES by Jennifer Chase #insidethepages

      A wind chime sways a sweet melody above several pairs of shoes neatly laid out on the welcome the mat: two large pairs, and three smal...