16.2.17

FORBIDDEN: Book Launch Celebration - Excerpt: #Seduction

Welcome to Forbidden’s book launch celebration!

Better Wear Your Flak Jacket

Today, I'm happy to share my 5-star review of this wonderful book. Below is a snippet. You can read the entire review at Goodreads (and add it to your to-read list while you're there)


FORBIDDEN eBOOK IS FREE

February 14th to 18th at AMAZON

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Synopsis:

Year 2047, City of Samarra, capital of the Republic of Islamic Provinces & Territories Fifteen American travelers have vanished. Surrendering to Mayor Aamir's demands, Captain Sharif becomes the reluctant keeper of his city’s bloody secret – and the witness, Eliza MacKay. The devout Muslim is horrified to discover that if he exposes the cover-up, his family will suffer dire consequences.

The CIA has the lying Sharif in their cross hairs. Sharif’s only hope is to prove his country's government is free of guilt. Secretly, he hunts forensic evidence. Cryptic messages, backstabbing informants, and corruption threaten Sharif’s resolve to see justice served. When he discovers the shocking truth, he and MacKay become the targets of a ruthless killer.

 Sharif is tortured by his attraction to the impetuous Eliza MacKay. In spite of her struggle with PTSD, he’s drawn to her vivacious personality. Islam forbids the intimacy he craves. In desperation to save Eliza, Sharif plots an act most forbidden and fatal.

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

Enter your name in Feather's rafflecopter for a chance to win:

- GRAND PRIZE: AMAZON coupon valued at $100 USD,

- Second prize: Amazon coupon $50,

- PLUS five ten dollar amazon coupons.

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Below is one of the author's favorite romance scenes.

Chapter 30

“Better have a seat, Sharif. Going to get rough. Buckle up your friend, too.” Buzz turned to check on Miss MacKay. “Shit, what is she doing?”

She stood at the tail section in the aisle, wobbling with the aircraft’s movement on the wind currents. Her bare back faced the men. She appeared to be looking for something in her backpack.

Sharif lunged to stand behind her back, blocking the pilot's view of the semi-naked woman.

“What are you doing?” he growled. “This is not permitted.”

“I spilled hot coffee on my shirt. It burned like crazy. Just give me two minutes to change into a clean shirt.” Eliza shrugged him off. “Turn around.”

“You’re indecent.” Sharif knew he should tear his eyes away, and turn around. The shape of her back, the soft shoulders, and her curves reminded him of the undulating terrain of the Sahara. The waistband of her pants rested low on her hips. Fighting his body's traitorous desires, Sharif growled, "Get into the bathroom."

"Too damn small." Eliza snatched a black lace camisole from her backpack and held it against her chest. “Go back to Buzz. I’ll be properly dressed in two minutes.” The plane lurched to the right. Eliza lost her balance and placed her feet farther apart.

Sharif grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back snug against his chest. He whispered into her ear. “Eliza, when are you going to stop tormenting me?” He half-hoped she didn't hear his confession above the roar of the twin engines.

“Do you want me to shut off who I am?”

He felt her body tense as if preparing to fight him off, then melt into his wall of muscle and bone.

The intimacy threw him into panic. In the span of one breath, he felt the old inclination to shun the pleasure, even to feel repulsed by the bliss. Allah forbids. But his drive to be honorable refused to allow the lie. He could no longer deny that Eliza, the impetuous and insane woman who had the audacity to expose his humanity, had become very dear to him.

“No, never," he said, placing a brief kiss on the corner of her mouth. Though he met her just seven weeks ago, he knew her as if they had spent a lifetime together. He knew the cadence of her voice, the swing of her stride, and the nuances of her moods. He marveled at the light that shimmered in her hair and lived in her eyes. He knew the capricious scent of her body, and could spy on her thoughts through the tilt of her head and curve of her mouth. He found it mystifying at the depth to which he understood this woman, like no other. Wanted her, like no other.

The warmth of her body spread like a warm breeze into his. Numbed by isolation and practiced sacrifice, fragments of his passion flared out of control. Hashim Sharif moaned. He couldn’t tell where his body ended and hers began. The dim light of the aircraft cabin sighed over her shoulders. If not for the lace camisole concealing her most alluring charms, his lust would have ruled his actions.

Over the years, the words “I love you” had become mute, lost under the weight of perceived duty and disconnection with his emotions. He was Captain Sharif, the noble Muslim warrior. He was not Hashim Sharif, the good man, worthy of Eliza MacKay.

Soft and warm, her hands covered his. Sharif shivered with need - to declare to man and Allah, Eliza was his. A violent shake of the aircraft shattered his lustful intentions. Sharif straightened, and wrestled his inner cop back into control. Love was for people not running for their lives.

She buttoned up a fresh shirt, turned to face him and flipped up her hair under the police cap. “There, no harm done.”

He lifted his cap and slapped it back down. “Around my family, we’ll have to maintain physical distance. No unnecessary conversation.”

“You’re the boss.” She smiled and patted his chest. “Anything you want, it shall be done.”

For the next hour Sharif and Eliza rested, fitfully sleeping, half relieved to be away from the terror in Samarra, and yet anxious about finding a resolution to the Sharif family’s safety. Sharif bolted upright in his seat when Buzz shook him awake.

“There’s trouble in Rumi, Sharif,” Buzz hollered. “Captain Khattab and his men are setup to meet you on the tarmac.”

   

Romance Under Fire

Author Feather Stone / F. Stone / Judy Weir

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On our cattle ranch, when an animal was in distress or injured, I was put in charge of nursing it back to health. Never mind that I was just a kid and hated the sight of blood, but I had to muster up the courage to apply home remedies. My survival rate was pretty good. It seemed like a foregone conclusion that I would progress to nursing – humans.

After one year into nurses training, I bolted. Bed pans and chronic diseases pushed me in different direction; a career of dealing with drug addicts, murder, suicide, fatalities, and biker gangs. In 1983 I graduated with honors as a paramedic and worked in the City of Edmonton’s Emergency Services. For the next twenty years, I came face to face with scenes most people would rather not think about. I loved it. Having experienced life in the most deadly and gut wrenching events, and work alongside the police service, I gained the fodder for creating intense novels.

 My first novel, The Guardian’s Wildchild, was published by Omnific Publishing in 2011. The setting is on a naval ship, under the command of a surely man who is under suspicion of treason. When a battered woman is brought to his ship for execution, he has no idea that she is about to turn his disciplined life into chaos – and that she is no ordinary woman. The Guardian’s Wildchild has a rating of 4.1 at Amazon.

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Social Media Links: Stop by and say hello at:

Romance Under Fire Blog Facebook: FSauthor Twitter: Featherwrites Pinterest Goodreads    

LAUNCH SCHEDULE

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February 13:

Review by Lily Eva Blake

February 14:

Guest Post with Pat Garcia
Review and Guest Post with Juneta Key

February 15:

Featured in OPAL Magazine
Guest Post with Lily Eva Blake

February 16:

Review and Showcase with Nicki Elson
Showcase with Jennifer Lane

February 17:

Showcase with Nancee Cain
Interview with Tyler Wiegmann

February 18:

Review and Showcase with Yolanda Renee
Showcase with Michelle Willms

1.2.17

That's Offensive #IWSG

Happy February, everybody! I hope you're all in for a great month.

Recently, I had one of my writing insecurities materialize and roar at me like a tiny little dragon. While posting on a Facebook business page for my day job, I used a phrase that I say pretty regularly. I think it's snappy and cute, but it turns out, one of the customers found it offensive. (The phrase was: "make like a baby and head out" - as in, make like a tree and leave.)

For the life of me, I still can't understand why she was offended, and this makes me wonder if there are parts of my published works that people find offensive, things that I would never expect to be interpreted that way. I often feel like we've become an overly politically-correct culture, so I don't mind offending people if I'm being intentionally offensive, but I don't want to unintentionally offend them.

I guess this is why we have crit partners and editors and eventually reviewers - to help us only be offensive when we want to be, hehe. Thank you for listening. :)


I answered this month's question (How has being a writer changed your experience as a reader?) in the course of answering last months question, so you can see that here.


This post is part of the monthly blog hop/therapy session known as Insecure Writer's Support Group, founded by the one and clonely Alex J. Cavanaugh. Click below to join the group!