Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Promo Tour ~ 223 Bonny Street by Firi Kamson

Title: 223 Bonny Street
Author: Firi Kamson
Genre: Adult, Women's Fiction
Published: March 27, 2016
Set in the south east of Nigeria, 223 Bonny Street is a story about surviving loss, finding your identity and making connections.

After an accident, waking up in another person's body seems like a dream until Ikenna realizes that he is faced with the stark reality of Nkechi’s life, the woman whose body he occupies. He experiences the pain and joy, strength and sacrifices of a woman.

The two of them make a connection beyond the physical, but matters of the heart are delicate. When secrets from the past are revealed, will their connection be strong enough to survive?


223 Bonny Street Excerpt © Firi Kamson 2016

“Nkechi! Why did you scare us like that? I have told you, you have to be strong”, the frail looking old woman, who had helped him get up, spoke.
Looking at her again, he tried to remember who she was. “Okay ma”, he replied, whilst still struggling to get to grips with the whole situation. Swallowing his question, sensing that this old lady wasn’t to be questioned by anybody, he remained puzzled.
Looking at the chair he was sitting on, he realised this wasn't his favorite army green reclining chair, where he sat in the evenings watching football, with strict house rules that nobody else was allowed to sit on his chair, not even the president. Turning to his left, he saw a group of men, who looked like they were in their mid forties or early fifties, and what struck him was that they were all wearing black, and they looked his way, speaking amongst themselves.
“Please, what are these men doing”, he asked the young lady who was standing by his side.
Looking at him rather strangely. “They are discussing the burial preparation of Godwin”, she whispered.
“Who is Godwin?” he asked, as he watched the blood drain from her face.
Whispering something he couldn't hear to the old frail looking lady, she turned to him. Taking his hands in hers. “Come with me”, she ordered.
Still not settled after what had happened to him, Ikenna obliged. Allowing himself to be dragged as they walked into a dark room, she switched on the light and  shoved him in front of the big standing mirror.
“Look at yourself properly in the mirror, before you ask me that rubbish question again, about Godwin”.
The moment Ikenna looked at the mirror he knew that he must have become mentally deranged. What he was looking at was the face and body of a woman. A woman, who had aged overnight, even though she was relatively young. She was of average height, had a round face, full bosom, but the bottom line was that he was a woman and was pregnant. Turning around, as he looked at the lady, he muttered, “Who is this? Is this a joke?” Glancing at the mirror again, he touched his skin.
Firi Kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream, she dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specialty French. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for www.sabinews.com, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who knows one day it would be fulfilled. She lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first work.
Hosted By: 
 
BLOGGER HTML - END POST WORDPRESS HTML - START POST (copy everything between the RED areas - do not include RED text)
Title: 223 Bonny Street
Author: Firi Kamson
Genre: Adult, Women's Fiction
Published: March 27, 2016
Set in the south east of Nigeria, 223 Bonny Street is a story about surviving loss, finding your identity and making connections.

After an accident, waking up in another person's body seems like a dream until Ikenna realizes that he is faced with the stark reality of Nkechi’s life, the woman whose body he occupies. He experiences the pain and joy, strength and sacrifices of a woman.

The two of them make a connection beyond the physical, but matters of the heart are delicate. When secrets from the past are revealed, will their connection be strong enough to survive?

223 Bonny Street Excerpt © Firi Kamson 2016

“Nkechi! Why did you scare us like that? I have told you, you have to be strong”, the frail looking old woman, who had helped him get up, spoke.
Looking at her again, he tried to remember who she was. “Okay ma”, he replied, whilst still struggling to get to grips with the whole situation. Swallowing his question, sensing that this old lady wasn’t to be questioned by anybody, he remained puzzled.
Looking at the chair he was sitting on, he realised this wasn't his favorite army green reclining chair, where he sat in the evenings watching football, with strict house rules that nobody else was allowed to sit on his chair, not even the president. Turning to his left, he saw a group of men, who looked like they were in their mid forties or early fifties, and what struck him was that they were all wearing black, and they looked his way, speaking amongst themselves.
“Please, what are these men doing”, he asked the young lady who was standing by his side.
Looking at him rather strangely. “They are discussing the burial preparation of Godwin”, she whispered.
“Who is Godwin?” he asked, as he watched the blood drain from her face.
Whispering something he couldn't hear to the old frail looking lady, she turned to him. Taking his hands in hers. “Come with me”, she ordered.
Still not settled after what had happened to him, Ikenna obliged. Allowing himself to be dragged as they walked into a dark room, she switched on the light and  shoved him in front of the big standing mirror.
“Look at yourself properly in the mirror, before you ask me that rubbish question again, about Godwin”.
The moment Ikenna looked at the mirror he knew that he must have become mentally deranged. What he was looking at was the face and body of a woman. A woman, who had aged overnight, even though she was relatively young. She was of average height, had a round face, full bosom, but the bottom line was that he was a woman and was pregnant. Turning around, as he looked at the lady, he muttered, “Who is this? Is this a joke?” Glancing at the mirror again, he touched his skin.
Firi Kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream, she dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specialty French. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for www.sabinews.com, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who knows one day it would be fulfilled. She lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere's Secret is her first work.
Hosted By: 
 

COVER REVEAL - EXRATED by Stevie J. Cole @steviejcole




Title: EXRATED
Author: Stevie J. Cole
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 2, 2016



Blurb

Tyler Westbrook, better known as Johnny Depth, is taking the adult film industry by storm. With his playboy looks, it’s no surprise a few coworkers have attempted to take things off set and into the bedroom, but Tyler refuses to blur the lines between work and play…until the new assistant to the director walks in.

Jemma Morgan was recently fired from a lead role on a kid’s TV show that was supposed to be her big break. Unable to get another acting gig, she's accepted a job in an industry she never expected to be a part of. Although she anticipates being shocked her first few days on set, nothing could prepare her for the moment she's asked to hold the reflector as her ex-boyfriend plows through a woman like a Kansas cornfield.


In a world of butt-plugs, lube, and fake moans, is there a place for a second chance? Exes and some serious ohs…the term ex-rated just took on a whole new meaning.




Pre-order Links

SPECIAL PRE-ORDER PRICE OF 99c

AMAZON 







Author Bio

Stevie J. Cole is a secret rock star. Sex, drugs and, oh wait, no, just sex. She’s a whore for a British accent and has an unhealthy obsession with Russell Brand. She and LP plan to elope in Vegas and breed the world’s most epic child.



Author Links

 TWITTER
GOODREADS



Release Blitz ~ Sensing You (Sensing #1) by J.M. Adele

Title: Sensing You
Series: Sensing #1
Author: J.M. Adele
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Suspense Romance
Published: March 30, 2016
Gift or curse?

Ronnie has inherited her granny’s gift of a sixth sense. But for her it’s not a gift, it’s a curse. She’s unable to trust anybody with her secret, unable to form any meaningful relationships beyond what she has with the woman who shares her abilities. She’s learned to hide behind a solid wall of bitchiness.

When the ghost of a persistent young woman infiltrates Ronnie’s world, she can no longer avoid the visions plaguing her. Reluctantly, she starts to open up to friendship, happiness and love, discovering that fate has more surprises in store for her future than she imagined. Including a man who might actually be able to understand the pain she harbours under her tough exterior.

But as she learns more about her gift she finds herself in situations she isn’t prepared for. Now she’s in grave danger. Will she be able to stop a madman before she becomes his next target?


Sensing You Excerpt © J.M. Adele 2016

The imposing beauty of old Government House filled my vision. I stood like a statue on the perfectly manicured lawn in front of the sandstone magnificence. My stomach tumbled, and the skin of my neck and arms prickled with fear and excitement. I loved old buildings. Old, haunted buildings. I just couldn’t bring myself to go inside them. I spent a great deal of time avoiding spirits, so the idea of putting myself in their path, on purpose, went against my instincts. Ridiculous, I know.  But this was all about taking back control.
I pouted my lips, and slowly breathed in and out through my nose, shaking my arms and legs in preparation for battle. Stepping into the building, I could almost feel the people who’d lived here generations before. It smelled of ingrained dust. Not the dirty kind. Just the irremovable layering of years in the pores of every surface. Rich burgundy shaded the walls, complementing the rich, dark wood of the windows and doors. This was the womb of the house, dark and crowded, but cosy.
The receptionist started her welcome speech, offering me a brochure, and pointing the way to the courtyard cafĂ© where I ‘might like to end my tour’. Not likely. I took it by my fingertips, careful not to make contact, and moved past the people watching a documentary on a small screen. Immediately, I was drawn to the Governor’s Library, and not because of the books. I could see her. A maid wearing a black dress with layers of skirts and a white apron. She bustled around, dusting every surface. Humming quietly, quite happy in her work. A relieved breath eased from my lungs. I could do this. The smile that stretched my face felt foreign, but welcome in this public place.
I worked my way back to the winding staircase that led to the art gallery. Yet another reason I was drawn to this place. The display of William Robinson’s works. He won the Archibald Prize two times. Twice! He was more of an expressionist than a realist. A misfit like me appreciated the individual interpretation of his views on life.
I wandered through the bedrooms turned into art displays, until I reached the self-portrait of the artist with his brother, clad in opposing outfits. Comfy PJ’s versus knowledge and power. Both of them depicted with solemn expressions. The laugh bubbled up from my gut, escaping without my permission, just like the smile I’d been wearing before. It felt fucking awesome to let it out. Until I heard a deep laugh join the melody of mine.
My tailbone throbbed at seeing him again. He was laughing at my shoes, not the painting. What’s so funny about my sneakers? I watched as his eyes travelled over me, the pupils growing larger despite the bright light streaming in the windows. My heart pounded, and my muscles tightened in response. I wanted to run before they reached my face, but I was too slow. He looked at me, rendering me speechless with his smile. He didn’t smile like that before. Given the circumstance of our past meeting, I probably would’ve slapped it off his face. Now, it’s an art work all on its own.
My heart galloped along, out of control. Lord knows where it wanted to go, but it definitely felt like it wanted to leave my chest and leap into someone else’s. It was scaring the shit out of me. His smile faded a little and he took a step back, and said something about the artwork. I couldn’t answer. My vocal chords had checked out on me, apparently on board with the travel plans taking place inside my rib cage.
His boots thumped against the floorboards as he retreated another step. He was looking at me strangely, continuing to prattle about the painting. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but his feet spoke for him. Two times he backed away… Twice. I was used to it. I encouraged it. I couldn’t afford to let people in. But watching him stand there looking scruffy and dangerous… holy shit… he was sexy. I didn’t want him to back away. I wanted him to take a step closer. But those buckled, biker boots backed up, slicing a piece off my tough exterior as they went. With my vulnerable centre exposed, the second step cut even deeper. I couldn’t let it happen again. So I ran.
That’s what I do. I’m good at it.
J.M. Adele is the author of the contemporary romance novella, Remembering Home, and paranormal romance, Sensing You—coming soon. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her husband, three boisterous boys and two geriatric Labradors.

Working as a nurse in a former life allowed her to meet all sorts of wonderful people and gain many different perspectives on life. Her love of, and addiction to stories prompted characters of her own to take up residence in her daydreams. When they became more insistent, she finally took pencil to paper.
Hosted By: