In Blood We Trust by Elodie Colt #PreOrderBlitz @EJBookPromos

Title: In Blood We Trust
Author: Elodie Colt 
Genre: Suspenseful Dystopian Romance
Release Date: April 5, 2017
2078. The Future, as it was once called…
A better time you imagine? Most would say yes.
Jordan would say they’d switched one evil for another…

Ever since the SDCT—the Scientific Department for Cancer Treatment—made a scientific breakthrough, creating a cure for cancer and therefore saving billions of lives from the cruel disease over the last few decades, the world seems to be a better place.
But the Cure came with a side effect. 
The Recipients need to consume human blood along with it, and as Jordan has the rarest blood type, she needs to donate every week. To keep a tight legal structure between Recipients and the rest of the population, the FDR—Federal Division for Recipients—was created, making her job as Sergeant at the NYPD hell on earth.
The real trouble, though, begins the day she becomes burdened with a case that will force her to extend the law to its limits. Worse still—the new Lieutenant, Aiden Davis, has set an eye on Jordan, and it doesn’t help that he is an unrelenting, too-hot-to-be-allowed ex-marine and more intense than she can bear. But her past makes it impossible to get involved with anyone without resurfacing memories of the one fateful night she desperately wants to forget.
And when the one man she’d never wanted to lay eyes upon again—the man who had inflicted pain on her worse than anyone could ever imagine, the man who had drained her until there was nothing left—shows up once again, her growing attraction toward the new Lieutenant seems to be the least of her problems…

I took a gulp of air bracing myself for what was about to come. Sheryl knocked on the door, and I ran my hands over my dress in an attempt to smooth out the fabric. My need for food nearly made me sick. I hoped my stomach stayed quiet.
Patrick and Davis lifted their heads simultaneously as we entered.
“Patrick,” Sheryl greeted him. Her voice changed to a sweeter tone as she addressed the newcomer. “Lieutenant Davis.”
I stood next to Sheryl but deliberately stopped a foot behind her. Davis looked at Sheryl, but to my surprise, his gaze never went lower than her face despite the amazing view she provided at chest height. He gave her a short nod in greeting, neither overly friendly nor unfriendly. I bit my lower lip. He didn’t seem like a social kind of guy. Was that a good thing or not?
“Ah, yes,” Patrick said, adjusting the knot of his tie before standing up. “Lieutenant Davis, let me introduce you to my best.”
Davis raised his eyebrows appearing surprised that Patrick was referring to two women, and it was only then that his gaze finally fell upon me.
His eyes zoomed in on my face, his stare penetrating me. I automatically held my breath. Then, he raked my body head to toe with one quick but thorough glance. Fast. So fast, I nearly missed it.
My heart did a crazy little jump. Was he checking me out? Why would he do that when a sexy goddess like Sheryl was standing next to me? I suddenly felt very naked, as though he’d just stripped me down to nothing but my underwear with his intense, unwavering stare.
Davis elegantly rose from his chair. He was so intimidating—respect and power pouring from him in waves—I had the urge to avert my eyes, but they appeared to be glued to his. My headache from before was suddenly forgotten.
He stepped around the desk closing the distance between us in a few strides. He towered over me when he stood that close—claiming my comfort zone—his strong neck at my eye level. I bit back the urge to step back. Or was it an impulse to step forward? Confusing.
“Sergeant Jordan Lively,” Patrick introduced me, oblivious to the wordless conversation that the Lieutenant and I were having, although I wasn’t sure what exactly our silent exchange meant. Standing that close, I could make out the color of his eyes that continued to bore into me—deep blue with shades of turquoise that reminded me of the sea’s hue. I remembered seeing that color printed on the old postcards of a tropical island paradise that had been swallowed by a tsunami decades ago. I think it had been called ‘Hawaii’ or something exotic like that.
Simply stunning. Beautiful, drown-worthy, and unique.
His eyes flitted back and forth between mine until stopping to rest on a particular spot. I could read the question on his face. Everyone asked the same question when they met me the first time: Why was there a misshaped little speck of gray next to my left pupil whereas the rest of the eye was a regular green like the right one? I usually gave my standard excuse: Genetic. No one knew the real truth besides me.
As if on cue, Davis’ gaze landed on my scarf most likely wondering why I was even wearing one. Understandable. It was far too hot in here. I was probably the only person in this part of the country who even owned scarves.
“A pleasure to meet you.”
His voice skimmed my senses, an underlying timbre I couldn’t quite decipher swinging with it. The way the word ‘pleasure’ left his mouth sent funny vibrations through my belly. It took me a second to realize that he’d extended his hand to shake mine. I grasped his hand, and I swear I felt a thumb softly caress my skin before he pulled away.
“It’s an honor,” I managed to say before lifting my chin a little higher. I didn’t want him to think he’d intimidated me. He stepped sideways to greet Sheryl long before his slicing gaze left mine.
“And Detective Sheryl Frayman,” Patrick informed.
“Welcome, Lieutenant Davis,” Sheryl greeted him with a strong voice emanating way more confidence.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you.”
Polite. Nothing more. Was I imagining it? I threw a sideways glance at Sheryl expecting to find disappointment on her face, but instead, she smiled after Davis’ eyes found mine again.
My heart rate increased pounding through my eardrums. Damn, it was stifling in here. The air conditioning must have conked out again.
“What are you specialized in?” Davis asked, perching on the office desk and crossing his ankles. Sheryl folded her hands in front of her but didn’t answer. Davis looked at me expectantly. Apparently, the question was meant for me.
“Murder and rape,” I answered. No point in sugar-coating that. I swear I saw his nostrils flare a tiny bit. Yeah. The question wasn’t exactly one people used to reply with ‘Really? What a great thing to do!’
“Why?” he asked. That was a question I couldn’t possibly answer honestly. It would be a, let’s say, extremely heavy topic to discuss during an initial meeting.
“Because it’s so much fun,” I blurted sarcastically, quirking an eyebrow. I regretted my words as soon as they were out of my mouth. What had gotten into me? Must have been the low blood sugar. Sheryl’s head shot in my direction, and I could feel her what-the-fuck-are-you-doing glare on me. I glared back, shrugging. What was an appropriate answer here?
“Jordan!” Patrick exclaimed in shock, but Davis didn’t seem to bother. His expression hadn’t changed in the slightest still deeply lost in analyzing me. His stare made the air around me even more stifling.
He smacked his lips, the movement attracting my attention. I imagined tracing a finger over them which was silly, really. “You’re one of the best in what you’re doing. That only comes with a proper amount of devotion,” he stated, continuing to study me carefully.
We were getting into dangerous terrain. I needed a way out, so I prompted, “You mean the satisfaction I feel when I finally put the bastard behind bars?” In all honesty, I felt immense satisfaction when I took one of them down during an exchange of fire. It was exhilarating, giving me the feeling I’d done the world something good. However, that wouldn’t be the appropriate thing to say if I wanted to stay professional. I always tried to hide my dark side as best as I could.
“Sergeant Lively apprehended over thirty criminals on her own last year,” Patrick threw in, doing his best to cast a positive light on me. “She tends to work alone.”
Davis nodded in acknowledgment, though he seemed distracted. I transferred my weight to my other foot. God, my heels were killing me. And you couldn’t even open a window when you were stuck on the hundredth-something floor! 
Elodie lives in the outskirts of Vienna, Austria, with her longtime boyfriend. She is not a native English speaker, but that doesn’t keep her from putting her fantasies on paper in that beautiful language. Never trained as a professional writer, she started writing as a hobby, which quickly grew into an obsession. 


Elodie has an unhealthy addiction to chocolate cookies – which is why she forces herself to go to the gym twice a week – has a weakness for electronic music, and in her spare time she can be found exploring movie databases for the latest DVD releases. 


Additionally, she’s busy with reading and writing and gets easily lost in Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Erotica. In her own works, she likes to create rich dystopian stories which consist of bold heroines, sexy guys, and hot romances. 


Her biggest idol is the British author, Stephanie Hudson, author of the epic saga “Afterlife”. Elodie secretly hopes to get the chance to meet with Stephanie one day, and talk to her about how she created the greatest story ever written. 


The only thing she hates about writing is that she loses all the precious time she could spend reading the hundreds of books that are still on her to-read list.

HOSTED BY:

I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

ORIGIN by Ana Jolene #ReleaseBlast @TastyBookTours @anajoleneauth

One drunken kiss ignites an inferno of burning desire. 

ORIGIN
Glory MC #2
Ana Jolene
Releasing March 14th, 2017

 

One drunken
kiss ignites an inferno of burning desire. Sworn enemies, Lucky Winters and
Seven Douglass struggle to forget the kiss that shouldn’t have happened. Then Lucky’s
past comes back to bite him and he suddenly disappears for months, leaving
Seven wondering where they both stand.
 
When Lucky
returns, he is a changed man and his prolonged absence means he must once again
prove himself to the club he’s sworn his life to. Except Lucky can’t seem to
shake off the recent events as much as he wants to.


Seven is no
stranger to this feeling. Her own mysterious past threatens to disrupt her
future and when neither of them are able to stop the ghosts of their pasts from
resurfacing, the only person they can turn to is each other. Suddenly, hatred
morphs into love. And where there is fire and ice, there’s bound to be some
steam . . .


Don’t miss the first Glory MC Title
Ana
Jolene
 is
the author of the Glory MC series and the Contemporary Romance series, Moonrise
Beach.
 
Growing
up as a rebellious kid didn’t allow for much reading time. It wasn’t until she
was in university that she found her passion for books and has since then
devoured every book placed before her. Ana holds a B.A. in Psychology and has
worked in both IT and Administration. But she’s had the most fun in the bookish
world, working as a reviewer, columnist and assistant to multiple sites and
authors.
 

 

Ana
currently lives in Toronto with her family and an extremely lazy Shih Tzu whom
she adores. To learn more about Ana and her books, subscribe to the newsletter
to be notified of the hottest new releases and giveaways!
 

I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

CLANLESS by Jennifer Jenkins #CoverReveal #FridayReveals #Month9Squad #Month9Books

 

Today Jennifer Jenkins and Month9Books
are revealing the cover and first chapter for CLANLESS, book 2 in the NAMELESS Series
which releases October 4, 2016! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be
one of the first readers to receive a paperback of NAMELESS or an eGalley of
CLANLESS!!
 
Here’s a message from the author.
 
Clanless is Gryphon’s story in the way Nameless
was Zo’s. It encompasses the struggle of self discovery and taking the hard
road to find happiness. At its heart though, this book is a love story, with
two people determined to fight overwhelming odds, even death, to be together.
Clanless provides readers a view of the world outside Ram’s Gate, exploring
both the Raven and Kodiak Clans in more depth.

I LOVE THIS COVER. I love the way Gryphon is
depicted and the symbolism of of the white background in contrast to the black
of the Nameless cover. I personally think the series only gets better with
every book, and I hope readers agree.
On to the reveal! 

 

Title: CLANLESS (Nameless #2)
Author: Jennifer
Jenkins
Pub. Date: October 4, 2016
Publisher: Month9Books
Format: Paperback
& eBook
Find it: Amazon | B&N
|
TBD
|
Goodreads
Striker Gryphon has lost his position of
honor among the Ram, and is now a hunted man. A traitor.
Zo, the object of his affection, was
murdered by members of his former clan. To honor her memory, he journeys to the
highly secretive Raven “Nest” to warn strangers of their impending
demise—though it could cost him more than just his pride.
He doesn’t know that Zo is very much
alive and in another part of the region assisting Nameless refugees over a
mountain swarming with wild men known as “Clanless.”
As each struggle to make sense of what
their lives have become, they fight and claw to reach the Allied Camp, their
last hope in bringing peace to the region.
But the road back to one another is
treacherous and uncertain. And freedom will come with a price.

 

Excerpt

Gryphon never thought he’d die at the hands of the Ram. Of course, he never thought he’d become a traitor to his clan, either.He awaited a likely public execution, sitting in a patch of mud outside the walls of Ram’s Gate, his clan’s stronghold, as rain filtered through the trees overhead. Bristled ropes rubbed raw his bound ankles. Iron manacles secured his wrists behind his back. Gryphon clutched the hidden key to his restraints inside a bloody fist and glared at a man he never thought he’d call an enemy.

Zander, Gryphon’s captain, stood at attention as the rain rolled off his brown hair and banked along the harsh angles of his cheekbones and jaw. He held a seven-foot spear like a walking stick, the blunt end buried in the mud at his feet. His short sword was sheathed at his hip, his round shield slung across his back. The perfect Ram warrior, and one of the best swordsmen Gryphon had ever known.

The fifteen members of his mess sat like stones in a field, unmoving but hard and very present. Most of Gryphon’s former mess, including his best friend, Ajax, kept their backs to him, as if his treason were contagious. Some slept under thick wool blankets that repelled the rain while others stewed with the restlessness that plagued so many warriors.

No one bothered to light a fire. Whether they were too impatient to find something dry enough to burn or felt they deserved the cold, Gryphon didn’t know. Ram were experts at self-discipline—not to be confused with self-control.

Inside Ram’s Gate, Gryphon grew up training every day until his body ached. On days he struggled to do everything his leaders asked of him, he would sentence himself to mountain sprints until he literally passed out from exhaustion. Like every other Ram boy, he willingly walked into scheduled yearly beatings that were meant to train his body to block pain, making him nearly invincible on the battlefield.

A little rain was nothing.

Sitting cross-legged in the mud with his hands chained behind his back, Gryphon let the rain muffle the sound of his struggle to insert the small key into the unseen lock of his manacles. Each metallic scrap wound his nerves that much tighter. His wrists burned from bending at an awkward angle and his shoulders strained as he struggled to keep his face a mask of indifference.

Zander watched him, barely blinking. Gryphon needed to distract him—to break his intent focus.

“Why do you think they haven’t let down the rope ladder?” Gryphon asked, speaking as though his impending execution meant little to him.

Zander’s lip raised in a snarl. “Barnabas has the Raven invasion to prepare for, the gate to repair. He will deal with you in his own time.”

Gryphon adjusted his grip on the key to approach the lock from a different angle.

“It seems Barnabas is content to let you sit out in the cold for the night. Do you think you’ll lose your command over this?” Gryphon raised his chin and smiled.

Zander drew a knife so fast Gryphon fumbled with the key.

“Barnabas ordered you brought back alive, but I don’t think he’d mind if I took out your tongue.”

Gryphon had been trained to use the emotions of his enemies against them. People made mistakes when they weren’t stable. Plus the conversation muffled the sound of the key scraping futilely against the metal lock behind his back.

A few of the heads in the wet camp turned to watch the exchange.

Zander leaned back, battling with his composure. “I might lose my command, but I’ll return to my bunk with our brothers of the mess and rest well after seeing your body hang from a noose.” He shook his head. “I knew you had a strange fascination with that slave—that Wolf. I just didn’t realize your treason extended to all the Nameless inside the Gate.”

Just yesterday, Gryphon had inadvertently helped hundreds of Nameless slaves flee the massive walls of Ram’s Gate. To slow the Ram pursuit, he disabled the only exit—a gate so large it required forty Nameless to open it. Even though only a fraction of the Nameless slaves escaped, it would be days before the chain connecting the gate to the counterweight could be repaired.

The key finally slipped into the lock. Gryphon let his head fall back, just a fraction, and closed his eyes in relief. Zander’s hate-filled gaze greeted him as he opened his eyes, but that didn’t stop him from turning the key. The lock clicked open, the sound lost in the rain.

With one hand free, Gryphon still kept both hands behind his back, though he relaxed his shoulders some to alleviate the ache from being bound. The metal key in Gryphon’s hand was warm. The grooves pressed uncomfortably into his palm, but Gryphon didn’t loosen his hold, refusing to let go of the hope Ajax had given him.

Not only was the key his only chance of escaping the certain death that awaited him inside the giant walls of his clan, but it also represented a dim hope that Zo was still alive. That Ajax—Gryphon’s best friend—hadn’t followed through with Zander’s order to find and kill her and the others after Gryphon’s capture.

The vivid scenes of the morning replayed in Gryphon’s mind again and again. Everyone asleep under the tree, except Zo and Gryphon. Ram circling the perimeter of the giant fir like bloodhounds sniffing out prey. Zo taking his hand, pretending to be brave even though her eyes—they were always so easy to read—proved it a lie. Her warm lips. The feel of her body pressed against his . . .

A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold ran up Gryphon’s back. He’d been captured not far from the tree, trying to lead the Ram away from the people he cared for most.

If only he could ask Ajax if they were alive, though the chances were as likely as staying dry in this storm. Ajax had a family to protect, and the penalty for deceiving his captain was as deadly as deceiving Chief Barnabas himself. Dangerous.

Lightning struck not far away, brightening half of Zander’s face in the fast-approaching darkness.

“Come back to me,” Zo had said, just before she’d leaned into him, touching her soft lips to his.

Gryphon slid the key into the second lock.

He chewed on the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. He fought the urge to spit in Zander’s face, to unlock the chains binding his wrist and strangle him with his bare hands. He was sure he could finish the job before he took a spear to the gut. It felt like the only way to quench the hungry blackness that consumed his insides.

Gryphon hung his head, remembering the promise he made to Zo before they separated. Whether Zo was alive or not, he needed to survive to warn the Raven Clan of an impending attack. Countless lives would be spared if the Raven had time to flee the Nest before the Ram arrived. Getting himself killed wouldn’t serve them, even if it meant an escape from the overwhelming ache in his chest.

Thunder rolled again. Zander stared. Gryphon prayed for a miracle . . . and hoped he deserved one.

He turned the key.

The lock clicked open.

But his manacles clattered to the ground before he could catch them.

***

“We’re not waking him.” Zo’s head throbbed as she held Joshua’s wrist to check his pulse for the tenth time in as many minutes.

The boy lay unconscious, but his heart beat a steady rhythm. Zo needed to feel that pulse; it was her tether to sanity. The sound of Ram fists connecting with Gryphon’s body . . . the muffled grunts betraying his pain . . . they still echoed in her mind when she didn’t check her thoughts. From her hiding place, she hadn’t seen Gryphon’s capture, but she had heard. She’d wanted to run out and fight alongside him. Even though she had Joshua and Tess to think of, her inaction tasted like betrayal.

Rain fell all around them, but they’d managed to stay mostly dry beneath the skirt of a giant fir tree.

“This is insane,” said Eva. She had the long nose of her Ram ancestors, set off by a thin mouth. “Do you have any idea what will happen to us if the Ram come back here?” Eva lay flat on her stomach—all leather and long legs—as she scanned the ground outside their fir tree haven.

Even with a full moon, it was impossible to see far beyond the confines of their shelter. “They have Gryphon. They’ll know you and Joshua are close.” Eva ran her hand over her cropped hair, oblivious to the action. “If I were tracking us, I would have found us hours ago.”

Eva was a Ram, just like the soldiers she feared. She’d fled the Gate with Zo for the sake of her unborn child. A baby who would have been killed at birth because it belonged, not to her betrothed, but to a man in the Ram’s slave class known as the Nameless.

Zo gazed up at the tree trunk, hoping to inhale a bit of patience along with the strong scent of pine. “We wait until Joshua’s ready, Eva. Not a moment sooner.”

“But the Nameless will be miles away by now.”

Zo conceded the point. At that moment, hundreds of escaped slaves traveled to get as far from Ram’s Gate as possible to protect their newfound freedom. They didn’t know how to find the Allied Camp. Zo had told Stone, Eva’s lover and the leader of the Nameless rebellion, it was south of Ram’s Gate, but that was the extent of their knowledge, and it wouldn’t be enough to find the slot canyon that led to the Allies.

The Nameless needed her. So did her little sister Tess, Joshua, and even Eva. None of them would survive without Zo’s ability to lead them to the Allies. But it didn’t change the fact that all Zo wanted to do at the moment was sprint up the mountain to Ram’s Gate—the place from which they’d just escaped—and demand the release of the young man she’d come to care for. The man who’d saved her life and the life of her sister, even though doing so had caused him to lose everything.

Gryphon.

Zo’s little sister, Tess, sat like a watchdog beside Joshua’s head, playing with the boy’s red hair. In the low light, she looked even smaller than her eight years.

“Zo’s smart. She knows what to do,” said Tess. She was blond with dirt smeared across her nose and cheeks. She glared at Eva with her giant blue-green eyes, almost daring her to contradict her big sister.

Zo hugged her knees to her chest, fighting a sudden surge of nausea, hoping Tess was right to trust her so completely.

“Someone’s coming,” Eva hissed. She pushed up onto her knees, wielding two deadly looking knives. At the same time, Zo yanked Tess to the ground and threw herself over her and Joshua’s body. It was a futile effort to save them, but fear took over all rational thought.

Soft footfalls crept outside their shelter, each step marking the final moments of their lives. Zo glanced around for some kind of weapon or stick to help defend the two people—two children—for whom she was responsible. All she found in the darkness was a bed of dry pine needles and her medical satchel—nothing to defend them against fighters from the deadliest clan in the region.

The footsteps came closer, muted by the soggy earth. Eva moved from her knees to the balls of her feet, a compressed spring ready to fly into an attack. She adjusted her grip on her knives.

Hope fled. Zo couldn’t catch her breath. Tess. Joshua. Eva. The Nameless. Dying today under this tree meant the deaths of so many others as well. Gryphon’s sacrifice had been in vain.

Large boots stopped mere feet from Zo’s hiding place. Boots she’d recognize anywhere.

“Don’t,” she cried, trying to stop Eva before she attacked.

But her warning was too late.

Eva sprang, blades in hand, aimed at the intruder’s chest.

 

 

With her
degree in History and Secondary Education, Jennifer had every intention of
teaching teens to love George Washington and appreciate the finer points of
ancient battle stratagem. (Seriously, she’s obsessed with ancient warfare.)
However, life had different plans in store when the writing began. As a proud
member of Writers Cubed, and a co-founder of the Teen Author Boot Camp, she
feels blessed to be able to fulfill both her ambition to work with teens as
well as write Young Adult fiction.
Jennifer has
three children who are experts at naming her characters, one loving, supportive
husband, a dog with little-man syndrome, and three chickens (of whom she is
secretly afraid).
Visit her
online at jajenkins.com

Connect with
the Author:  Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest |Instagram

 

 
1 winner will receive a paperback of NAMELESS,
US Only.

 

 
3 winners will receive an eGalley of
CLANLESS, International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl