Tuesday, 24 May 2016

Release Day Blast: Tommaso by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff



Tommaso
Immortal Matchmakers, Inc. #2
By: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Releasing May 24, 2016
Self-Published


Tommaso

Immortal Matchmakers Inc. series


From New York Times Bestseller Mimi Jean Pamfiloff…
TOMMASO, Book #2, Immortal Matchmakers, Inc. Series (Standalone)
SOMETIMES, HOT MEN CAN BE REAL MONSTERS…
Tommaso Fierro is used to the finer things in life—nice suits, nice car, nice house. Okay, his past isn’t so nice, but that’s in the past. Or at least it was until he blacked out after meeting the woman of his dreams.
Annnd possibly capturing her.
Annnd possibly terrorizing her before she got away.
Annnd discovering that he’s turning into a horrible creature he loathes with all his heart.

Luckily, there’s a cure. Unluckily, it will require him to track this woman down and convince her to give him a second chance. But if he finds her, will she ever believe that he’s really not a monster?

Link to Follow Tour: HERE
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CHAPTER ONE

9:42 a.m., Los Angeles
Covered in bright red blood, Tommaso Fierro stumbled from his sleek black Mercedes and staggered across the litter-filled 7-Eleven parking lot, clutching the front of his sticky gray dress shirt.
Sonofabitch,” he groaned. This can’t be happening. He’d gone through far too much, survived far too much, only to end up like this.
No. No. No. You are not turning evil again.
But then why had his turquoise eyes—the telltale sign of his godsgiven immortality—turned black? Why did his heart feel like it was being prodded with a red-hot poker?
And where the fuck did all this blood come from? It sure as hell wasn’t his.
He looked at his sticky red hands, suddenly seeing images of the dark-haired woman in his head. She was bound and gagged in his closet, screaming at him through a rope knotted between her lips.
Shit. Please don’t tell me I killed her. Because she was the one. Yes, the one. And no, he couldn’t explain why he had no clear memory of what happened, but he did remember the wave of intense desire he’d felt the moment he spotted her leaving the singles mixer last night—Wait. Was it last night? Everything was a blur after that, like watching a violent movie on a dark screen that sporadically flickered.
Godsdammit! Wouldn’t this just be his godsdamned luck? He finally meets the woman of his dreams—his true mate—only to turn evil for no other reason than the Universe had decided to be a huge bitch and mess with everyone.
More blurry images swarmed his mind: the woman screaming and then…images of him letting her go, only to start chasing her, like a cat playing with a mouse it wanted to torment before the kill.
That is very fucked up.
Tommaso suddenly felt like his skull was splitting open. Aaagh… He shoved his fingers into his sticky short hair, pressing the sides of his head. Then his lungs began closing up. I can’t…breathe. He fell to his knees on the hard asphalt. And godsdammit, he had just gotten his awesome pin-striped slacks back from the tailor. Three hundred bucks just for the hem.
A candy apple red Mustang tore into the parking lot, nearly colliding with a parked car before coming to a tire-screeching halt a few feet in front of him. The driver door popped open and out stepped a familiar face: Zac, God of Temptation.
The sound of Zac’s heavy biker boots thumped toward Tommaso as he tried to keep his vision from blacking out.
Wow,” said Zac in his usual cocky tone while brushing back his mane of shaggy black hair with his usual affected gesture. “You weren’t joking. You really are turning into a Maaskab—not such a great look for you, by the way.”
Maaskab were an ancient sect of powerful, bloodthirsty Mayan priests who excelled in the dark arts. With their blood-caked dreads, soulless pits for eyes, and grime-covered bodies (they believed bathing robbed them of their powers), they looked like death warmed over, reheated in a microwave, and then deep fried in evil waffle batter. And though they were talented at many malevolent things, manipulating dark energy and enslaving others to do their bidding were their claims to fame, something Tommaso knew firsthand. For two loooong fucking years, he’d been pumped full of Maaskab poisons and used to spy on the gods’ army. It was a miracle he’d escaped, but an even bigger miracle the gods had chosen to help him versus ending his life after he’d been discovered.
Only now, he wasn’t so sure that he’d been cured (or what had happened over the last twenty-four hours or why he was in a 7-Eleven parking lot covered in blood with only a vague recollection of taking his newly found mate captive). In any case, Zac had been the first name that came to mind when he’d called for help.
Perhaps not such a wise choice. Zac wasn’t known for being the most compassionate of the gods. Okay. None of the gods were compassionate. Bat-shit crazy, the whole lot of them.
Tommaso looked up at Zac, seven feet of pure conceited asshole in leather pants. And topless?
Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Tommaso grumbled. Proper attire was essential, even when one was in the process of transforming into a monster, as in his case. Didn’t see him ripping off his clothes and acting uncivilized.
Casual Friday.” Zac shrugged and then bent to help Tommaso to his feet.
Tommaso’s gaze gravitated toward the hazy figure of a petite blonde standing beside the god, wearing only a pair of enormous flowery granny panties and matching brassiere. He recognized her to be Tula, the new assistant at Immortal Matchmakers, Inc., which was run by Zac and Zac’s insane redheaded mess of a sister, Cimil—the Goddess of the Underworld.
What’s with Tula’s outfit?” Tommaso mumbled, wondering if he wasn’t dreaming.
Casual Friday,” Zac answered for Tula. “Did I not just explain that?”
Okay, you two,” said Tula, in a sugary tone, “let’s get out of here before the police show and suck up another day with all their questions. I’m still trying to get them not to press charges for the singles mixer.”
Tommaso hadn’t stayed for more than a minute at that party, but he could only imagine the long list of reasons the police had been called. Things tended to end up decimated or lit on fire when a group of immortals got in a room and started drinking. Belch, aka the God of Wine and Intoxication, for example, held the all-time record for destroying the most hotels. Five hundred and twenty. All burnt to the ground. All by accident.
Tommaso winced, the pain of whatever searing through his veins becoming almost unbearable. “Take me home.”
Who said anything about home, compadre?” Zac said. “You’re not safe to roam freely with the masses.”
Zac looked at Miss Flower-Power Panties and instructed her to retrieve Tommaso’s keys from his pocket.
But Zac,” Tula protested, “a man’s pocket is his private space. Next to his privates.”
She was standing in the middle of a public parking lot in broad daylight, wearing only her undergarments—albeit, very unsexy undergarments, but undergarments nonetheless—and she was concerned about improper behavior?
My keys are in the ignition,” Tommaso groaned, the splitting pain in his head and heart only worsening. “And I’m sorry about all the blood in the car.” Sorrier than anyone could ever know. Please don’t let it be my mate’s. Please.
Zac bent his head and gave Tommaso a whiff. “Hate to break it to you, evil buddy, but if what’s in your car is the same stuff that’s on your shirt, that’s not blood. Cherry Slurpee is my guess.”
Really? Tommaso looked down at his sticky gray shirt. “I killed a woman and went to get a Slurpee? I am a monster.”
Do you specifically remember killing someone?” Zac asked.
No, but—”
Sirens began wailing off in the distance.
Time to go, big man. Let’s get you to a secure location. We’ll sort it all out later.” Zac turned toward Tula, who was already getting into Tommaso’s Mercedes. “I’ll meet you back at the office.”
Yes, sir,” she replied.
And, woman?” Zac said, his deep voice filled with agitation.
Yes?” she answered.
The next time I see you, you’d better be wearing proper office apparel. We hold to certain standards at Immortal Matchmakers, Inc. Even on casual Friday.”
For the last time, I am not going to work naked, Zac!” She slammed the driver-side door shut and zoomed out of the parking lot.
Humans,” Zac grumbled. “So damned uppity! You know what I mean?” Zac looked at Tommaso, fishing for validation.
Tommaso frowned up at the deity, whose face was becoming a mishmash of swirls. I’m losing my mind. “Sure. Yeah. Wearing clothes is so last year.”
I know, right?” Zac grabbed Tommaso’s arm to steady him as he began falling sideways. “All right, let’s get you off to jail.”
You’re taking me to jail?” Tommaso stumbled along toward the Mustang, without a hope or a prayer of getting free. Not in my condition.
Well, I’m really taking you to Cimil’s basement until we can get you moved to our real prison. But where else would I take an evil, bloodthirsty Maaskab to rot for eternity?”
Rot? Eternity? Oh hell. Maybe Zac was right; that was where he needed to go. Because if Tommaso had harmed a hair on his mate’s head, he deserved to putrefy in a dark dungeon for all time.
But what if she’s not dead? He had seen an image of him untying her and of her running away. Gods be damned. I have to find out what I did… He needed to know she was all right. Okay, and his heart demanded to see her again and beg her forgiveness.
But who was she? He’d only seen her for a moment in passing as she left the mixer—that part was clear. As for how would he go looking for her when he could barely see straight? Not to mention you’re going off to immortal jail.
There was only one person he could turn to.
Gods help me…


MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF is a USA Today and New York Times bestselling romance author. Although she obtained her MBA and worked for more than fifteen years in the corporate world, she believes that it’s never too late to come out of the romance closet and follow your dream. Mimi lives with her Latin Lover hubby, two pirates-in-training (their boys), and the rat terrier duo, Snowflake and Mini Me, in Arizona. She hopes to make you laugh when you need it most and continues to pray daily that leather pants will make a big comeback for men.
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Monday, 23 May 2016

New Release Spotlight: An Enchanted Spring by Nancy Scanlon



An Enchanted Spring
Mists of Fate #2
By: Nancy Scanlon
Releasing May 24, 2016
Diversion
An Enchanted Spring

Mists Of Fate Series



Nancy Scanlon continues the timebending saga she began with The Winter Laird, pulling heroes and villains alike through the portals of time to help save their futures and find their truest loves.
A time travel accident has left Aidan MacWilliam, younger brother of a medieval Irish laird, trapped in the future. Though he’s become a successful entrepreneur in the twenty-first century, Aidan still can’t banish thoughts of the world he left behind. In search of distraction, he heads to New York to scout a PR person for his cousin’s matchmaking firm, Celtic Connections.
Emmaline Perkins might be the perfect candidate. A PR expert and closet medievalist, Emma has always put work before her social life. When a breathtakingly handsome man who looks like he stepped straight out of the Middle Ages proposes business, she struggles to keep her professional and personal lives separate.
Then Emma's ex-fiancé resurfaces, threatening Emma’s livelihood, her home, and ultimately her safety. Aidan jumps to protect her and not just because she’s good for business. He feels a primal need to defend the alluring young woman. But the question is not where she'll be safe, but when.


Link to Follow Tour: HERE

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He stopped directly in front of her, his body inches from hers, and slowly leaned in. Emma’s breath hitched, and her body went on full alert, her senses hyperaware of him. His clean scent filled her nose, and his nearness made her knees turn to jelly. When her eyes locked on his clean-shaven face, it took every fiber of her being not to rise up on her toes and run her tongue along his jawline.
His eyes met hers, and she saw it—raw hunger. As he raised his hand slowly, she parted her lips, hoping for a second taste of Aidan MacWilliam.
The sound of something rustling above her head forced her to look up.
Aidan brought a bag of coffee down to the counter and trapped her between his arms.
She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move.
They stood like that for a long moment before he shook his head a little, as if questioning his sanity, before he placed his hand on her jaw, tugged it open, and melded his firm lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, and she was suddenly enveloped in his arms, his hand stroking her neck. He cradled her head and flicked his tongue to hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought them up to his neck, as he kissed her gently, carefully, as though she would break.
She sighed softly and leaned into him, and he growled into her mouth. Aidan kept one hand in her hair, his fingers gentle, and pressed his other hand into the small of her back, bringing her body flush with his. He deepened the kiss, devouring her in the best of ways. Emma felt cherished, branded, and hot all over.
She pressed into him harder, and he slid his hand up her spine, sending chills throughout her overheated body. She ran her fingers through his hair, surprised at its softness. He drew her attention away from wandering thoughts, though, when, without breaking the kiss, he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the counter. He angled her head and kissed her as though his life depended on it.
She lost all coherent thought.
His hands were on her back, her shoulders, her hair, her legs. She dragged her hands up his abs, feeling the ridges of muscles and flesh; she wanted to tear his shirt off and kiss him everywhere, all at once.
Ahem.”
Dimly, she registered that someone was standing on the other side of the island, and she tried to disengage from Aidan.
Kitchen’s closed,” Aidan said, his voice rough. He rested his forehead against Emma’s.
Let me know when it’s open, all right? I need some coffee before I start working,” Colin replied, the grin in his voice unmistakable. A few seconds later, a door opened and closed.
They looked at each other for a moment, breathing hard, and didn’t say anything. Aidan flicked his gaze to her lips, and kissed her hard and deep before pulling away. “I won’t apologize for that.”
More confused than ever, she glared at him. “I don’t know whether to slap you or…or…”
His green gaze locked on her for another moment, and he let out a sudden chuckle. “Christ, Emma, what you reduce me to. Kissing you in my cousin’s kitchen.”
That felt more like ravishing,” she snapped before she could stop herself. She slid off the counter.
He brought his body against hers once more, and she cursed herself for freezing in place. He leaned down, his mouth on her ear, and ran his tongue along it. “Then you’ve never been properly ravished,” he whispered.

Born and raised near Boston, Massachusetts, Nancy Scanlon wrote her first romance novel at age 16, when she realized that fictional boyfriends were much easier to figure out than real ones. In the time since, she managed to earn a degree in English, obtain a graduate certificate in creative writing from the University of Cambridge, and marry the man of her dreams (but she still holds tight to her fictional boyfriends).
Currently, she resides in Puerto Rico with her husband, two children, and two dogs. When not writing, Nancy spends her time reading, reviewing and blogging about romance novels, watching too much HGTV, and taking care of her family.


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