Trading Secrets by Rachael Eckles

Trading Secrets, by Rachael Eckles, is a Suspense Thriller / Contemporary Romance. It was released in May 2020 and is available for sale on Amazon. (Warning: Explicit Sexual Content. Ages 18+) This is the first book in the Trading Secrets trilogy. Book 2 is set to be released in Spring 2021.

Synopsis:

Celeste Donovan, a high-powered finance executive, seems to have it all–the penthouse apartment, the supermodel physique with a mathematician mind, and a trail of beautiful men she has loved and left behind.

But when her boyfriend Theodore is killed in a mysterious accident, she discovers Omar, her abusive ex she had hoped would never resurface, is behind his death.

Now she’s caught in a game of cat and mouse, trying to anticipate Omar’s next move, as she realizes he will stop at nothing to get to her. She sets out alone on a whirlwind journey to entrap him, determined to put an end to Omar’s destruction.

Soon Celeste is thrust in the middle of the largest financial scandal in decades. This time, however, powerful government officials are in bed with some of the world’s most dangerous men.

When she discovers that those she thought she knew best are involved in a secret society warring with Omar and his coconspirators, she must decide how far she will go to avenge Theodore’s death and whether she is willing to risk her own life to save everyone she loves.


Excerpt: 

The moment the blues walked into her office, Celeste knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. Her heart pounded, and her throat tightened. The two nondescript men in NYPD uniforms exchanged somber glances. The shorter one cleared his throat and began talking, but Celeste’s hearing was muffled. She replayed the words in her head, struggling to make sense of the situation.

“Ms. Donovan … listed as his emergency contact … accident while flying in the Berkshires … rough patch … plane down … body badly burned … next of kin identified him … truly sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

Then they were gone, and she was alone on her sofa with no recollection of how she had gotten there. Was it the same day or a week later? Her face was streaked with dried tears, her tongue heavy and coated from her vices. A near-empty Macallan and overturned Xanax container taunted her from the coffee table. She reached for the prescription bottle and emptied the last two pills into her hand, washing them down with a gulp of scotch. Fred Warren’s warnings all those weeks ago were legitimate, she was in danger, grave danger. But she had failed to realize the love of her life was in danger as well.

Theodore’s gone. And I could’ve stopped it.


Praise:

“A stylish, fierce, globetrotting crime thriller that fans of Janelle Brown and Kimberly McCreight will fall for… an absolute page turner… Eckles’s prose is crisp, her dialogue crackling, witty and withering… In Celeste, Eckles has created a fascinating and highly memorable character. Sure, she’s a dysfunctional powerhouse, largely despised by other women, who has surrounded herself with morally ambiguous men. But when pitted against the diabolical Omar, it’s impossible not to root for her.” BestThrillers.com

“Eckles provides a fast-paced thriller that takes readers on a wild ride of revenge and intrigue. Vivid descriptions of stunning clothes and opulent locations pack the pages, as do steamy encounters… that will please fans of contemporary romance… readers will find this to be a compelling and satisfying page-turner.” – Kirkus Reviews

“Eckles engages readers from beginning to end with this tale of betrayal, love, and international intrigue. She creates a strong, likable protagonist. Though Celeste’s lifestyle may be foreign to many, it is still very relatable. For those who enjoy a great love story, the relationship between Celeste and Theodore delivers. Likewise, for those whose tastes lead toward the thrill of clandestine encounters and hair-raising escapes, this novel has plenty to offer. A well-written, descriptive narrative and a fast-paced plot keep the action moving along nicely… this is a very entertaining read that should keep readers turning the pages with its exciting plot twists.” RECOMMENDED by the US Review

“Reminiscent of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Eckles’s complex thriller grips the reader from the opening prologue. A tale of high-stakes Wall Street espionage and manipulation, the hunt for the ultimate evil opponent, an around-the-world, whirlwind adventure and a journey into the heart and soul of an extraordinary woman. Trading Secrets is, at once, a spellbinding, heart-stopping thriller and an exploration of the complex nature and vulnerability of the human heart.” -Traci Medford-Rosow, USAToday bestselling author of Unblinded and Inflection Point.


About the Author:

Rachael Eckles grew up in the Midwest. After graduating from law school, she followed her heart and moved to the east coast. Trading Secrets is her first novel. She currently lives in Manhattan with her puppy, where she is working on book 2 in the Trading Secrets trilogy. Readers can connect with Rachael on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Goodreads. To learn more, go to https://www.rachaeleckles.com

 

 

Jake’s Redemption: The Angel Eyes Series Prequel by Jamie Schulz

Where Cowboys meet Dystopian. A Suspenseful Romance and a Twist!
Jake’s Redemption is the first book in the Angel Eyes cowboy dystopian romance series. If you like scorching-hot chemistry, clever post-apocalyptic worlds, and star-crossed love stories, then you’ll adore Jamie Schulz’s captivating tale. Genre: Romance, Cowboy/Western, Dystopian/Post-Apocalyptic/Sci-fi, Suspense

Synopsis:
An imprisoned cowboy. An empowered woman. When true love is forbidden, opening their hearts could destroy them both…
Chained and enslaved, Jake Nichols is convinced he’ll die alone. In this new order where men are stripped of all power, he endures brutal torture at the hands of his female captor. But when he’s hired out to build a ranch home for an outspoken beauty, his dreams of escape transform into visions of passion.
Monica Avery struggles to fill her heart in a loveless society. With marriage outlawed and romantic partners reduced to pawns, she’s given up hope of finding her soul mate. But watching the rugged rancher hard at work on her shelter awakens her deeply buried desires.
As the project comes together, Monica discovers a kindred spirit in the tenderhearted Jake. But despite their growing attraction, he still belongs to a cruel woman who’d rather see him dead than free.
Can Monica save Jake, or will their love lead to a tragic tomorrow?

Excerpt from Chapter 1: 
JAKE NICHOLS knelt in defeat on the cold ground of the mountain meadow, directly beside his best friend, Bret Masters. Defenseless, with their fingers laced together behind their heads, their eyes scanned the surroundings for any escape from the Raiders who had attacked their camp in the early morning hours.
Both men scowled up at their captor, a woman Bret had foolishly—and against Jake’s repeated warnings—loved to distraction. Jake risked a quick glance at his friend, knowing the pain Bret must be suffering in the wake of her betrayal. He felt the bite of it too, only for a different reason. Bret was family, and what hurt him, hurt Jake. His protective nature made him long to shield Bret from the misery this woman inflicted.
“I don’t care for you,” Amy had said only moments ago, indifferent to the devastation Jake saw in every line of Bret’s granite-hard face. What made her confession even worse was the bit she added about only wanting to use his body.
“You do have such a pretty face, but no brains in your head,” she went on, and then laughed at Bret’s seething look. His expression made Jake ache for his friend, and he silently hoped she had nothing more to torment him with. But Amy wasn’t done with Bret yet.
“How could you think any self-respecting woman would want you for anything more than your gorgeous face and hard body?” she asked, not waiting for a reply. “A decent woman would never accept you as an equal. Any woman who would is worse than the slave you will shortly become.”
A deep growl rumbled up from Bret’s chest, and to Jake’s surprise, Bret lunged to his feet and attacked her. Seeing an opportunity, Jake and all the other prisoners immediately joined him in a last, desperate attempt to gain their freedom. Their female adversaries, however, had a new genetic advantage. It may have taken a few seconds for the hysterical-strength to kick in, but once it did, the fight, strength-wise, was no longer in the men’s favor.
The skirmish didn’t last long, but in a brief moment before it ended, Jake turned to see Amy about to drive a long-bladed knife into his best friend’s back. Jake didn’t think, he moved, tackling Amy as her weapon plunged downward from its high arch. Amy tried to wiggle away from him, but he held on, desperate to keep her from harming Bret.
“Run!” He heard Bret’s frantic shout. “Run!” The sound of pounding feet and continued battle assaulted Jake’s ears. He tried to roll away from Amy, but now she held on to him. On his hands and knees, he jerked his arm to shake her loose and follow his friend into the forest, but she wouldn’t let go.
Pain bloomed sharp and bright in his ribs as a booted foot slammed into him—once, twice—and he fell. The boot kept coming. He curled up, protecting his vulnerable areas, but his assailant still landed several blows to his head and back.
“Enough!” Amy’s voice rang out, and the assault ended. Jake spit blood from his mouth and struggled to catch his breath. The dizziness in his head and the stabbing ache in his side told him getting to his feet might be harder than it was a few minutes ago.
Definitely broke a rib or two, he thought, tonguing his split lip and rapidly cataloging the pain in the rest of his body.
“How many do we still have?” Amy shouted to someone nearby.
“Ten got away,” a woman said. “With this one,” Jake assumed she was pointing at him, “we still have twenty-seven men, along with some traitorous women and children too.”
“Is there a tall man, black hair, green eyes, very good-looking, among those we recaptured?” Amy asked, describing Bret to a tee.
“No.”
“That sappy, pretty-boy son of a bitch,” Amy swore, undoubtedly meaning Bret. “I should’ve known he’d try something like that.” She cursed again.
“You know their hiding places now,” the other woman said. “We’ll catch them and their friends too.”
Jake and Bret had come across Amy by accident—or so they had thought at the time—almost seven months before as they traveled the mountains, hunting for food. She’d been hungry and in need of aid. Unsurprisingly, she took an immediate interest in Bret. Although he had a mistrusting nature, she spared little time wrapping his love-starved heart around her finger. Jake had never liked her and the two friends argued about her more than once, but despite his misgivings about Amy, Jake refused to alienate his boyhood friend. Yet as a result of her relationship with Bret, she now knew the location of most of their woodland hiding places.
“That’s true,” Amy replied to the other woman’s comment. She tapped her chin with her index finger as if considering, and then she glanced down at Jake.
He had lain very still during their interaction, hoping against hope they might forget about him.
No such luck.
“And you,” she said coming toward him. “You—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish; he had a fairly good idea of what came next. Instead, he ignored his dizziness and the pain in his chest as he surged to his feet, pushed her aside, and ran for the trees. He’d made it six feet when he heard a crack behind him. Then something hard and thin snapped around his neck and yanked him backward. He saw stars as his head and back slammed to the ground, sending a new wave of misery through his abused body. He groaned, trying to place what just happened, and then Amy was leaning over him.
She jammed her knee into his chest, and pain shot through his damaged ribs. He lifted his arms to shove her away, but the leathery rope wrapped around his neck yanked at him again, choking off his air. Desperate, needing to get her off him, needing to breathe, he tugged at the cord strangling him. His eyes widened as Amy grabbed him by the hair and tilted his head back to expose his throat. He reached for her again, but the minute the edge of her knife grazed his flesh, his arms collapsed to the ground and he froze.
The binding around his neck loosened and fell away as Amy glared into his face. Blessed air came freely, but the simple act of breathing caused his ribs to twinge more.
With the suffocating rope gone, his hands automatically lifted off the ground to defend himself. Amy’s knife cut a tiny fraction deeper. Blood tickled his neck as the warm liquid trickled over his cool skin, and he froze once more, afraid to even breathe.
“Uh-uh,” Amy warned as she increased the pressure slightly, widening the gash a bit more and digging the point of her blade into his Adam’s apple.
His mouth went dry. Is she going to slit my throat?
“Looks like Bret didn’t value your friendship as much as you thought, huh, Jake?” Amy said with a nasty smile, her dark brown eyes glittering down at him. Jake cringed inwardly. He knew that wasn’t the case. In the chaos, Bret probably hadn’t even realized Jake had been captured, and wouldn’t until he failed to show at their rendezvous point. But her implication twisted at his guts nonetheless.
A second woman stepped up behind Amy, coiling the long black length of a bullwhip in her hand.
So, that’s what was strangling me…I should’ve known.
“You fucked up my plans, Jake, just as much as your damned friend,” Amy hissed at him when he didn’t respond to her earlier comment. “If it weren’t for you, he’d be mine and you’d both make me rich. Now, I have to settle for you and those other losers we caught today.”
“What’re—you going—to do with me?” He stifled a groan for his halting speech and glared daggers at the woman hovering over him.
“Oh, I think you know what we do with captured men,” Amy chuckled. She tilted her head, and a strand of her amber-blonde hair fell into her face as her eyes raked over him.
“You know, Jake,” she said reflectively, “you’re a good-looking guy. If Bret hadn’t been around, you would’ve been my target. It’s only next to a man like him that you’d seem second best. But then, you were always suspicious of me, weren’t you? Maybe once you’ve been trained, I’ll pay you another visit.”
He clamped his jaws tight and didn’t respond, but his mind was in overdrive. He wanted to fight, but moving meant death. He didn’t want to know what it was like to bleed to death from a severed artery. Instead, he scowled all the more. If he wanted to live, it was all he could do.
The woman beside Amy crouched down, but he couldn’t see what she was doing. The next thing he knew, he jumped as a needle jammed into his hip and something injected into his body.
Ah, shit… He knew what that was; he’d heard dozens of stories about it but luckily had never had to deal with the drug, until now.
It started working almost instantaneously, driving up his anxiety level, making him shake and cringe. A few seconds passed, while Amy’s gaze bore into his, and the effect of the chemical doubled.
Oh, God, this is worse than I thought it would be. He had never felt so weak and vulnerable in his life.
“Now,” Amy said as she removed the blade from his throat and stood. She tucked the knife in her boot and then plopped her rear down on his chest, knowing he would be too terrified, thanks to the drug, to do anything to save himself. “What shall I do with you?” She ran a finger down the side of his face.
He flinched away.
You could let me go, he thought and tried to force out the sarcastic remark, but the substance surging through him wouldn’t allow it.
“I think you deserve a particularly horrible punishment for always interfering in my plans with Bret,” she said, answering her own question while tapping his bearded chin with one finger. The slight contact amped up his anxiety, and he shivered. “He may have listened to you complain about me, but he loved me.” Her derisive tone told him what she thought about that. “He would’ve never turned me out the way you kept telling him to do. And now, you’ve ruined my chance to have him how I always wanted him: in chains. So, how shall I make you pay for all of it?”
Jake’s body shook with fear, both real and chemically induced. Amy was far more lethal than he had once thought.
“I know just the place you should go,” she continued with a bright smile, as if she’d come up with a brilliant idea. “I have an acquaintance near here, a woman who’s exceptionally adept at training men to be perfect little slaves. I’ll bet she’d jump at the chance to make you a willing breeder. You’ll make her a lot of money. Once she pays me a high price for you that is.”
“P-Please…” Jake pleaded involuntarily, the drug wreaking havoc with his willpower. No matter how much he wanted to resist begging, he couldn’t stop now that he had started. “P-Please…” he muttered again, his voice shaking while fighting the drug—and losing. “Let me go…”
Amy laughed.
“Darla’s going to tear you to pieces, Jake,” she told him, her sinister smile sending waves of dread prickling up and down his spine. “A little bit at a time, she’ll peel away your pride—”

About the Author:
Jamie Schulz lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family, her husband, and their fur babies. Writing has always been a big a part of her life.
Cowboys, ice cream, and reading almost any kind of romance are among her (not so) secret loves. To her, every one of her stories, no matter how dark, must have a happy ending, and she strives to make them impossible to put down until you get there. 
She balances her free time between reading her favorite romance authors—in genres ranging from erotica and dark romance to sweet historicals and contemporary romance—and spending time with her family.
Her debut novel, Jake’s Redemption, was released in February 2019 and is available for sale on Amazon.
Readers can connect with Jamie on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads. To learn more, go to http://www.jamieschulzauthor.com/

 

Chroma Crossing Chronicles: Blood Moon by S. Yurvati

Blood Moon, by S. Yurvati, is the first book in the Chroma Crossing Chronicles series. Genres: Fantasy / Romance / Women’s Fiction / Recommended for readers ages 18+

Praise for Blood Moon:
“Blood Moon is the perfect example of fantasy writing at its best… a multifaceted read which keeps reads involved, intrigued, and happily challenged by a myriad of subplots and characters. Blood Moon is anything but formula writing, and the very things that makes its nature elusive is the strength that sets it apart from most fantasy, romance, or other genre productions…. Suffice it to say that readers of fantasy, romance, intrigue, and women’s fiction will find much to like in the complex Blood Moon. It excels in many surprising twists and turns as Candy and Thorne face their flaws, weaknesses, dreams, and a danger that ventures into paranormal realms.” – Diane Donovan, Midwest Book Review

Synopsis:
Hunky pheromone-laden-man meets pretty accident-prone female—it should have been a love story with a happily ever after ending. However, when the bored deities choose Candy and Thorne for an amusing game, the gods and goddesses put forth sets of circumstances that can tear the couple apart and wound them deep within their souls.
With her father’s sudden demise, Candy finds she’s inherited funds and a house in beautiful historic Savannah. Not only can she now afford to go to the Savannah College of Art and Design, her future as an artist looks promising. But unfortunately, her step-mom and her disturbing son Todd reside in the main house.
When Candy gets her first commission for a life-sized portrait of a beautiful woman from a rather unsettling man, she soon questions what had seemed coincidental. Candy is a modest female who has always found solace in her artwork, whereas her widowed step-mom, Cherry Ann, considers physical pleasure and money as her measures of worth. As Candy pursues her art, Cherry Ann pursues a new lover. Cherry Ann finds her new risqué sex life to be addictive and doesn’t recognize the danger of the man she’s invited into her life.
After surviving a couple of ‘accidents’, Candy realizes someone apparently wishes her harm. When she’s chased (by the one thing she fears most) Candy accidentally, or so it seems, crosses into a new dimension. She finds herself in an unknown wilderness with a curious terrain that is void of color. The landscape looks like an old sepia photograph, hardly the Savannah spring day she’d left behind.  As Candy stumbles through the wild terrain, an intriguing hunter comes upon her. His presence makes her girlie parts beg to become ill behaved, and before she knows it, her hormones are arguing with her strict moral compass.

About the Author:
S. Yurvati has always loved reading and writing. She began putting her thoughts and imaginings on paper during her childhood and continued through college years. She began writing Blood Moon back in her college days, but after graduating from CSUN with a Master’s Degree, she had to work on earning a living and had to put her writing on hold… After three decades of working in the medical world, her husband convinced her to retire and take the time to write. That led to the beginning of Chroma Crossing Chronicles and her first book: Blood Moon. The series includes: Blood Moon (Part 1 and Part 2), followed by Book 3 Dragon Tear, and Book 4 Infinity Link. S. Yurvati is currently working on the fifth and final installment of the Chroma Crossing Chronicles series.
S. Yurvati lives in Texas with the love-of-her-life husband. They have been happily married for going on 44 years. Readers can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. To learn more, go to https://syurvatiauthor.com/ 

Romance, Family, and History Collide in New Work by Glen Thomas Hierlmeier

Lazlo's RevengeAuthor Glen Thomas Hierlmeier announced today that his latest historical romance novel, Lazlo’s Revenge, is now available for purchase on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Xlibris.
Any reader who enjoys historical fiction, romance, war stories, and stories with action and adventure, should definitely give Lazlo’s Revenge a read. I am pleased to be able to recommend this book to any such reader. I am also looking forward to reading more from the promising author, Glen Hierlmeier, as soon as I possibly can!” – Readers Favorite
Lazlo’s Revenge follows Maxine “Max” Fischer, a writer and Swiss war correspondent, whose parents lived through the tragedies of the Great World Wars. Greatly distressed by continuing wars and massive numbers of refugees, Max sets out to uncover the tragedies and triumphs of her parents, traveling the same paths they walked years before. Stories of war, romance, death and deliverance are unearthed through tears and admiration as she traces their stories through the debacle of the great wars, and the political upheaval between the wars.
“Readers will enjoy this book because it deals with current issues – the danger and ruthless cruelty of wars, immigration, and the plight of displaced persons, as well as the centuries old plight of Jews,” says Hierlmeier. “Told through a love story and an action-packed odyssey of a family and their closest friends, who are caught in a tragic battle between good and evil. It is a story of personal experiences with characters every reader can identify with.”
“With deft skill often found in good fiction, Hierlmeier masterfully creates a sweeping epic anchored by strong characters. The accurate and poignant historical references are sure to delight any historical reader.”Red City Review
A veteran of the Vietnam War, and a businessman as President and CEO for many years, Glen Thomas Hierlmeier has drawn inspiration from his experiences to pursue his passion of penning historical fiction. Glen retired in 2009 to devote his full-time attention to his grandchildren and his writing. He resides with his wife, RuthAnn, in Bakersfield, California.  He has written three other books including Thoughts From Yesterday: Moments to Remember, We Had to Live: We Had No Choice…, and Honor and Innocence: Against the Tides of War, the prequel to Lazlo’s Revenge.  A fourth book, Tapestry, was co-authored with RuthAnn.
For further information, to request a review copy, or to set up an interview with Glen Thomas Hierlmeier, please contact Kelsey McBride at Book Publicity Services at Kelsey@BookPublicityServices.com or 805.807.9027.

 

Lazlo’s Revenge by Glen Hierlmeier

Lazlo’s Revenge
Glen Hierlmeier’s latest historical romance novel, Lazlo’s Revenge, is the story of one woman’s adventure throughout Europe to uncover her parents’ pasts.  Stories of romance, war, and traumas both physical and emotional are unearthed as she traces their footsteps back to the major sites of World Wars I and II.
Lazlo’s Revenge follows Maxine “Max” Fischer, a writer and Swiss war correspondent, whose parents (Hank and Roberta Fischer, the main characters from Hierlmeier’s previous book, Honor and Innocence) lived through the tragedies of the Great World Wars.
In Lazlo’s Revenge, Max sets out on an adventure throughout Europe to uncover her parents’ pasts and see the very places where they survived on their odyssey to escape danger and death. Stories of romance, war, and traumas are unearthed as she traces their footsteps back to the major sites of World Wars I and II.
During her journey, Max becomes fascinated by the people who influenced her parents’ lives. She follows the life and times of Lazlo Floznik, the man who saved her parents and helped them escape catastrophe in Europe by seeking out refuge beyond the reach of the security forces that sought to imprison them.  The years leading up to World War I, the time between the wars, and the experiences of World War II reveal their secrets as Max explores her family roots, in this deeply emotional story tied together by Lazlo’s intense story of love, and that of his father, Miklos, before him.

 

Praise:
Any reader who enjoys historical fiction, romance, war stories, and stories with action and adventure, should definitely give Lazlo’s Revenge a read. I am pleased to be able to recommend this book to any such reader. I am also looking forward to reading more from the promising author, Glen Hierlmeier, as soon as I possibly can!” – 4 Stars, Reviewed by Tracy A. Fischer for Readers’ Favorite
“With deft skill often found in good fiction, Heirlmeier masterfully creates a sweeping epic anchored by strong characters. The accurate and poignant historical references are sure to delight any historical reader.” – 4 Stars, Red City Review

 

Excerpt:
Chapter 1: Bukovina
 
August 1914
Czernovitz, Bukovina
Austro-Hungarian Empire

 

Miklos Floznik
I approached the first houses, gasping for breath, horrified to see the destruction being wrought by round upon round of artillery fusillades. There was no cover to be found. Dazed, I continued running, desperately trying to save myself. I passed perhaps a dozen or more homes laid nearly flat. Mutilated bodies lying all about and the wounded wailing like nothing I had ever heard. As I neared the outskirts of the city, the shelling began again as suddenly as it had stopped. Cannonade pounded in the distance. The earth trembled ferociously at my feet. Turning a corner behind what still stood of the only remaining wall of a large stone building, another round of explosions pounded the city as I leaped down into a now-exposed basement filled with debris from the collapsed upper floors—only one wall and half another standing. Hope drained from me. Each deafening blast shook my senses, sending shards of glass and cracking timbers high into the air with a sickening burst.
Darkness fell quickly in the gloomy gray of dark as I slipped over a broken wall of stones and fell into the pit of the decimated structure. I pushed tightly into a corner of what was once someone’s home, protected from the drenching rain by a small portion of what remained of a badly damaged wall hanging precariously overhead—a welcome but uncertain shelter in the midst of chaos. I pushed tightly back against the cold stone walls on either side, finding as much safety as possible against a new round of explosions that pounded above and around. Each blast shook the skeletal rubble of the house, wrenching stone and wood from tenuous perches and sending more flying debris into the desolate hole that would be their final resting place . . . and perhaps mine as well. I was trapped—I couldn’t move for fear of being crushed in that dreadful place or being shelled to death outside. I pulled my knees to my chin… all I could think to do was pray… and as I prayed… tears came but did not assuage my fear.
Mercifully, with the darkness, silence also descended—even warriors need their rest. Only screams of the wounded and desperate pleas of survivors who searched frantically through the rubble for lost loved ones pierced the cold, wet, bleak night. Soon, darkness also shrouded them in silence, all but the woeful cries of the dying calling out miserably in their hopeless plight—my hopelessness too, I thought. In my corner hideaway, I could see nothing but the black of night illuminated only by the flickering dance of fires burning what remained. I knew without seeing that only rubble lay before me, and there was no hope to be found.
Bombardment of the trenches and the city paved the way for the Russian ground troops, armored cars pulling cannons, and the dreaded Cossack horsemen. I knew they would come—surely, by morning they would come. Everything in their path would be destroyed, everyone who resisted would be killed, and all others would be taken prisoner. There was no doubt. It was their way— what Colonel Eduard Fischer and the Hungarian Army had come to Bukovina to prevent, what I bravely thought we could accomplish was lost. I had not even seen a Russian, but I knew there was no hope of saving anyone. The Kingdom of Bukovina was doomed, and surely none of Austria-Hungary would be safe. With the Hungarian Army defeated and the stronghold city of Czernovitz overrun, no one remained to save us. Even Colonel Fischer might be dead, leaving no leader to stand boldly and hold the remnant together.
In the barren darkness, my youthful excitement as a proud Hungarian soldier on a mission to save the Kingdom of Bukovina, and ultimately the empire, suddenly struck me as a foolish notion. Wearing my uniform once made me very proud, but now I was only frightened and angry. My comrades and I were assured that victory would quickly prevail, but war and death tragically became very real, fearful, foreboding, and final. I questioned myself: Was I a coward to run? Do I really know what bravery is? Do I really know what all these good people are dying for? Do I know what this war is all about? Do I even care about Jews? After all, these people in Bukovina are Jews, many of them. Are they worth the death of so many fresh, hopeful young Hungarian and Austrian men? Are they worth my life?
My head swirled with doubts. My heart ached for answers I didn’t have. Life became too real, too fast. My tortured mind flashed back to the wretched face of the too-young boy, dead in the trench, and the unknown soldier whose bloated corpse had lifted my escape. I sat in my wretched corner and questioned why I had come to such a place—why anyone would engage in such brutality.
Was this worth it… for them… for us… for anyone?
After being drenched for nearly all of three days, the rain finally stopped. The choking smell of charred remains of buildings, gunpowder, and the rotting dead hung heavily in the air. I wished for the rain again, to dilute the ghastly stench. Time slipped slowly by. The dying must have passed through death’s mercy in the eerie silence and the wounded attended to, for as I listened—no sound. Strange, I thought, that in the midst of all this evil, there should be silence. I knew it could not last. Fear grabbed my throat again. My impulse was to get up and go, take action, do something, anything, but my mind held me back—there was nowhere to go, no escape, no hope. The Russian Cossacks would be here by morning—nothing to do but hide and wait, then fight to my death, to salvage whatever honor there might be in resisting.
Below the woeful mute of night, I crouched and cowered. Shivering in fear, my mind drifted back to happier days in Budapest when, as a young boy, I…
Just then!  
Something fell on the far side of the rubble, sounding as if it came from behind the largest pile of debris—perhaps another dislodged stone. I leaned forward to hear and peered vainly into the darkness as my heart leaped in my chest and immense fear gripped me. The worst of my thoughts seized me—the Russians were coming in the night and rooting out survivors! Desperate, I slowly reached to my side, and silently drew out my pistol. Another sound. Someone was moving, and not more than ten meters from me.
I raised my pistol and aimed in the direction of the sounds, I was prepared to shoot anything on sight, at any slight movement—my hands trembled against the trigger. A faint light appeared, flickering behind the rubble, like the light of a small candle casting a very large, daunting shadow around me, barely visible as it slowly danced in the eerie candlelight, nearly scaring the life out of me as my finger tightened on the cold trigger.
Crying—quiet, sorrowful weeping—as if the person hidden by the pile of debris knew she had to be very quiet but could not help herself… clearly a woman, perhaps a very young woman, maybe just a girl. I was still… very still… and listened for perhaps fifteen or even twenty minutes, until the light wavered and died. The soft whimpering continued for a long, long time in the fearful dark that kept me huddled closely against the walls of my corner as though I wished to disappear in its grasp. I would wait. By the dim light of morning, I would see who my companion in that hellacious hole might be. Though I resisted, sometime later I dozed, exhausted, dreamily wishing for the safety of my home in Budapest.
I woke to the constant patter of a dreary rain as the breaking dawn cast a ghastly glow over the destruction strewn around and about me. My eyes fixed toward the sound and the light of a few hours earlier; I listened but… only quiet and stillness… no sound but the steady falling rain.

 

Glen Thomas HierlmeierAbout the Author:
Glen Hierlmeier is a graduate of the United Sates Air Force Academy, and has an MBA from The University of Wisconsin. He served in the U.S. Air Force, where he helped develop the Manned Orbiting Laboratory and the F-15 Eagle fighter aircraft, and gained a deep interest in world affairs and warfare.
He subsequently completed a career as a banker and real estate executive, serving as President and CEO of various companies for over thirty years before retiring in 2009.
Glen enjoys writing historical fiction and has published three other books including Thoughts From Yesterday: Moments to RememberWe Had to Live: We Had No Choice…, and Honor and Innocence: Against the Tides of War, the prequel to Lazlo’s Revenge.
Readers can connect with Glen on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
For further information, to request a review copy, or to set up an interview or appearance by Glen Hierlmeier, please contact Kelsey McBride at Book Publicity Services at Kelsey@BookPublicityServices.com or 805.807.9027.

 

Chakana by W. E. Lawrence

ChakanaW. E. Lawrence’s latest historical romance novel Chakana is a James Bond meets Indiana Jones action/adventure story. It is set in Peru, just before the start of World War II. The basis of the tale is a race between good and evil to find an ancient treasure that could affect the outcome of the war before it even begins.  It’s filled with danger, suspense, some humor, and even a torrid romance (with sex scenes).

 

Synopsis:
In 1940, before the start of World War II, James Fleming, the original British secret agent, races on a high-stakes chase to track down the ancient lost treasure of King Huascar of the Incas. He must recover it before the Nazis do or the whole world will be in imminent danger.
But this is no ordinary treasure hunt. The Incas have proven their cunning and intellect in not only how they hid their treasure, but how they protected it. Fleming joins forces in the remote ruins of Peru, South America with Kate Rhodes, a policewoman on leave from the United States, her archaeologist brother, Nick, and their college professor, Dr. Charlie. Together, they must decode, interpret the clues, and face the challenges of the Chakana on their hunt the treasure.
If this wasn’t difficult enough, the group is hounded throughout their search of the ancient Sacred Valley by international artifact smugglers, familiar with the Chakana and working with the Nazis, who are determined to acquire the treasure to help finance their war effort. Intrigue, danger, suspense, action, adventure, and even romance abound in this brave band’s quest to save the free world.

 

Praise:
“With its ability to keep readers’ hearts in their throats from the first chapter to the last, adding political and social insights as a backdrop to character struggles, there’s much to like about Chakana‘s powerful approach – and, hopefully, a movie, down the line.” – Diane Donovan for Midwest Book Review
“I absolutely loved this book. This book is an action-packed Indiana Jones style book that got me hooked from the beginning. I love that this book is full of action, adventure, mystery, and romance that will keep you keep reading and won’t want to put down.” – 5 Stars, Canadian Book Addict
“If you love historical fiction, adventure or historical romance novels, then I would highly recommend you immediately add this book to your TBR.” – 5 Stars, The Writer’s Inkwell
Chakana by W.E. Lawrence is a romantic historical adventure that is impossible to put down. Chakana has all the adventure and excitement that will keep you on the edge of your chair and reading late into the night. W.E. Lawrence knows how to keep the suspense, romance, adventure and mystery alive on every page. If you like Indiana Jones, you will love Chakana. I don’t think anyone will be disappointed when reading this book – it is a five star plus winner.” – 5 Stars, Readers’ Favorite

 

Excerpt:
PROLOGUE
Countryside outside Athens, Ohio 1934
    The rumble of thunder sent the horse into a nervous prance.  The animal jerked its head and whinnied as James Fleming pulled in the reins to steady his mount.  “Whoa there, big fella. It’s just a few boomers, nothing to be concerned about.”  But when he raised his gaze to study the sudden ominous build of cloud formations, the certainty of a brewing storm made him decide it was time to get back to the barn.  With a gentle tug, he turned the horse.  “All right, Major, you win.  Let’s go home.”
     James had enjoyed these lone horseback outings through the hills and valleys of the countryside and took them as often as he could.  However, this would be his last ride.  He would miss America. Ohio in particular.  He had learned a great deal the three years he spent there, working and studying.  He even learned things he hadn’t intended, like riding horses owned by his sponsors who graciously opened their home and provided him with a place to stay.
     But the time had come to return home.  The winds of war were building between his homeland of Great Britain and Germany, now ruled by the radical Nazis hell-bent on avenging their defeat in the Great War.  His country needed him, and James, always a patriot, would contribute any way he could.
     He again looked to the sky.  The storm had moved in quicker than he expected.  Dark angry clouds now directly overhead made it look as if night was descending.  Gusty howls of wind and more rumbles of thunder gave sound to the suddenly eerie scene.  His horse became more frantic by the moment, pressing the need to get out of the weather as soon as he could.  Although unfamiliar with the shortcut through the valley and having been warned by the ranch hands that the territory contained dangerous marshland, he decided to take the chance.
    Entering the valley, his heart beat faster.  After little more than a hundred meters, the trail narrowed but he pressed on.  Clouds linked together and the low whistle of wind made the hair on his neck stand on end.  Thank God, it hadn’t started raining …yet.
     Then a sudden crack of thunder crashed over their heads.  The horse bolted.  Using what he’d been taught, James fought the reins and had his mount under control in a matter of seconds.  He exhaled, then stopped to regain his bearings.  The animal had only traveled another dozen meters, but his relief was short lived.
   The ground beneath them began to quiver.  When he tried to turn the horse, the earth sucked at the animal’s hooves like quicksand.  Again, his heart raced.  He had to get out, but the horse, now in full panic, reared back and threw him.  Falling backwards, he landed hard in the swampy marsh.  As he lay stunned, he heard the horse struggle to gain its footing, and then gallop away to freedom.
     The horse escaped, but James was not so fortunate.  Sinking, he tried to scramble out but the marsh restricted his movement.  The more he struggled, the faster he went down.  When up to his waist, he stopped.  This couldn’t be happening.  This was supposed to be his last day in America.  He couldn’t die like this.  But the wet mud and the tangy smell of rotting vegetation made it all too real.
     Nearly panic stricken, James turned his head and caught sight of a fallen branch sticking up out of the marsh like an outstretched hand.  With trembling fingers, he reached out and grasped it.  After he pulled himself closer, he slung an arm over and hung on.  He tried to relax so he could catch his breath but each time he started to sink, he had to wiggle upward to keep his head above the marsh.
     Soon, the wet mud and exhaustion began to take its toll.  Though it looked hopeless, he began to shout.  He shouted as long and as hard as he could.

 

Author W. E. LawrenceAbout the Author:
W. E. Lawrence graduated in 1978 from the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill with a BS in business administration. He has run a successful home health care supplies distributorship for the past twenty-three years.
Passionate about God, writing, reading, family, sports, politics, and America, Lawrence currently lives in Davidson, North Carolina, with his lovely wife and their two wonderful children.
E. Lawrence enjoys writing historical romance novels filled with action and adventure. He published his debut novel Guardian of Paradise in October 2014. To learn more, go to http://welawrenceauthor.wix.com/author
Readers can connect with W. E. Lawrence on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
For more information, to request a review copy, or to set up an interview or appearance by W. E. Lawrence, please contact Kelsey McBride at Book Publicity Services at Kelsey@BookPublicityServices.com or 805.807.9027.

 

Guardian of Paradise by W. E. Lawrence

GUARDIAN OF PARADISE BOOK COVERGuardian of Paradise, by W. E. Lawrence, is a historical romance novel filled with action, adventure, suspense, and intrigue. It was published in October 2014 and is available for sale on Amazon.
“Lawrence blends romance, action, and beautiful scenery into an alluring concoction.” – Kirkus Reviews

 

Synopsis:
In 1888, Kira Wall, surviving daughter of missionaries swept away in a tsunami, lives a primitive, but enjoyable life with natives on an isolated island in the South Pacific. But her serene world is turned upside down when an Australian merchant ship, commanded by the sinister Captain Darcy Coleman, arrives with an overabundance of modern and lavish goods. Kira suspects ill intent. Chief Ariki refuses to listen to Kira’s warning, forcing her to uncover the real plan of the captain on her own. Unfortunately, she has a distraction. A six-foot tall, blond, and handsome distraction. Trevor Marshall, doctor and botanist, hopes to find exotic plants on the island to research new cures and medicines. He is dedicated to science, but when meeting the strong-willed, beautiful Kira Wall, he’d prefer to spend time researching her—all night.
The captain thwarts Kira’s attempts to call him out at every step, turning the village chief against her. With only Trevor and her best friend Malana by her side, she stalks the captain and his officers through the dense, predator infested jungle, toward the island’s inactive volcano. Frustrated by her failure to reveal the captain’s true intentions, Kira begins to think maybe she’s wrong about everything. Then an explosion and earthquake bigger than anyone on the island has ever seen renews her resolve. Was the blast natural or man-made? She is determined to prove it was the captain’s doing. Kira races against time and the island people’s naivety to stop the captain from destroying her home and killing everyone she loves.

 

Excerpt:
Chapter 1
South Pacific island of Alofa, two days sail northeast of Sydney, Australia 1888 
            Kira’s heart leapt to her throat as the blare of the lookout’s conch horn shattered the tranquil morning. Startled blue and red lories sprang, squawking from the palm trees, their wings thrumming the air as they fled. Macaque monkeys jumped limb to limb, screeching and chattering from their jungle perches. Another blast of the trumpet sent even the fiddler crabs on the beach scurrying for the safety of their holes.
            She glanced to the cliff overhead, dropped her fishing net, and rushed up the sandy path toward the island’s observation post. The rest of the villagers would be taking cover until the men determined the extent of the threat. With her pulse pounding and her feet working to find traction on the steep, winding grade, images of pirates raiding the village flashed through her mind. The horror of women and children screaming while their men fought to protect them with only spears and clubs sent the chill of danger up her spine.
            When she reached the large flat rock high above the harbor, she found the stocky form of Kupe, the tribal chief’s son, standing with hands on hips, his black Polynesian eyes fixed on the bay. Wearing only a pair of worn, light-colored pants, extending mid-calf and a cloth headband to hold back his wiry dark hair, he remained still.
            “What is it, Kupe?”
            “Ah big ship is com’n in tee harbor,” he answered without turning.
            “A large ship is coming into the harbor,” she corrected. She squinted into the morning glare of the sun. “Are they pirates?”
            She studied the movements of the enormous shiny wood boat with three tall masts. Two wide painted stripes, one cream at the waterline and one black just above, encircled the ship. A complicated system of shroud rigging hung like webbing from the cross spars down to the deck rails.
            “I do not think so.  Ship is too big,” answered Kupe. “Tey have dropped their sails. Tey come in slow. Not hurry.”
            She lifted her hand to shade her eyes. Men lined the ship’s bow, all clothed in the same white bell bottom pants and loose-fitting gray striped shirts. Peering into the clear water, they tried to determine the depth of the harbor.
            “They fly the Australian flag and take their time.  Pirates not tat careful.”
            Kira spotted the dark blue fabric flapping in the breeze above the quarterdeck; the British Southern Cross embroidered in the upper left corner. Her heart sank. “If they’re who I think they are, they might as well be pirates. In fact, it would probably be better if they were.”
            Kupe turned his head and gave her his big brother-like stare. She and Kupe were not related, in fact, Kira was originally from Australia. Still they shared the same competitive bond of siblings. “What are you talk’n about, Kira?”
            “I’m afraid it’s one of those merchant ships from Sydney. They’ve come to trade.”
            “Tat would be good news. Tey have come to trade goods for our crops.”
            She fought the sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. “If we let them, they will take a lot more than we have to give.”
            Kupe’s eyes narrowed. “Our crops are plentiful. There is more than enough to trade.”
            “You don’t understand. We have to be careful. Most of these merchants are selfish and greedy. They’ll take advantage of our people.”
            The corner of his mouth turned up in the hint of a smile. “Tey will not be that bad.”
            “They will be, if we let them. What’s even worse, they think nothing of tramping our fields while they’re gathering the fruit, leaving them scarred.”
            He shook his head. “You always think tee worst.”
            She glared sideways. “I know what I’m talking about. My parents warned me of these kinds of people. I’ve seen for myself what they have done. I was young, but I saw the damage they cause.”
            He turned his gaze back to the ship. “We can take care of ourselves.”
            Kira grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Listen to me. If this were a ship of raiders, I know our men would protect us. But this is different. Worst of all, the more merchants who find out about us, the more outsiders will come. Our home will never be the same and we have nowhere else to go.”
            He shrugged free of her grasp. His large flat nostrils flared. “You make no sense. Tradors have come here before. Our people have pleasure in their visits. It has been a long time since tee last merchants came.”
            She dropped her arms. “It hasn’t been long enough.”
            Glancing down, Kupe held out his hands. “Look at my pants. Tat is how long it has been. I hope tey brought new ones.”
            Though he had a strong build, his round brownish-tan belly threatened to burst the tattered breeches. Everything about Kupe was big; his head, body, even legs. They matched his huge heart and his consuming desire to provide for his people. Kupe being the future ruler of the tribe, Kira only feared for his overtrusting nature and inability to perceive a disguised threat.
            Looking at his worn pants, she would have laughed if she weren’t so angry. “You just don’t see the danger.”
            Kupe set his jaw. “Enough, as long as the outsidors show us tey mean no harm, tey will be treated as guests. We will welcome them.”
            “But-”
            “I said enough. We must call off the warning and greet our visitors before I tell Chief Ariki they have come. He will want to prepare to meet their leadors.”
            She smirked. “Your father is also too trusting of strangers.”
            Kupe shook his head again. “Our people had visitors long before you came… good and bad. You should have more faith in people.” He turned down the path toward the harbor beach, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Are you com’n?”
            She picked up a stone and with a loud grunt, hurled it over the cliff. “Yes, I’m coming.”
***
Author W. E. LawrenceAbout the Author:
W. E. Lawrence graduated in 1978 from the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill with a BS in business administration. He has run a successful home health care supplies distributorship for the past twenty-three years.
Passionate about God, writing, reading, family, sports, politics, and America, Lawrence currently lives in Davidson, North Carolina, with his lovely wife and their two wonderful children.
E. Lawrence enjoys writing historical romance novels filled with action and adventure. He published his debut novel Guardian of Paradise in October 2014. To learn more, go to http://welawrenceauthor.wix.com/author
Readers can connect with W. E. Lawrence on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
For more information, to request a review copy, or to set up an interview or appearance by W. E. Lawrence, please contact Kelsey McBride at Book Publicity Services at Kelsey@BookPublicityServices.com or 805.807.9027.

The Moral Line by Vanessa Bogenholm

THE MORAL LINE BOOK COVER
The Moral Line, by Vanessa Bogenholm, is an erotic romance novel that opens readers’ eyes to the world of high-end escorts and the men who frequent them.
Vanessa describes the intense and sometimes deeply saddening process she went through in order to achieve the greatest possible accuracy: “I underwent extensive research while writing The Moral Line in order to fully understand the motivations and feelings of the people who participate in the high-end escort business.  I interviewed the escorts themselves, pimps, and the men who commission these services.  For the last set of interviews I even went so far as to meet men who wanted to pay me for sex and then would tell them the truth of why I was meeting them.  Some were mad, some were fascinated, and all were lonely just like me.”

 

Synopsis:
After being rejected and left alone, Alexandria, finds herself going down a moral line. Slightly desperate for money, she takes a one-time ‘job’ as a paid for companion by a not so attractive but very nice wealthy man. Is getting paid to be in the company of men really such a bad thing if it feels good? She falls into a world of clients that are wealthy, powerful, successful men with fancy cars and country club lifestyles. But she sees the fragility in all of these men, the loneliness and need for acceptance that is the human condition.
Alexandria becomes ‘Catherine’, a high-end escort with a beautiful laugh who finds the goodness and attractiveness in all men, falling in love with all of her clients just a little. By accepting these men and seeing the goodness in them, she pleases these men in many ways. Is it possible by pleasing others maybe Alexandria can find her true self and find happiness?

 

Praise for The Moral Line on Amazon:
“Words to describe this book are Emotional, Sexy, Inspirational, and well written in a memorable fashion that will engulf the mind well after you are finished reading. The story line is also original and the plot was extremely entertaining.” – Lazaro
 “I went in expecting some titillating erotica, but what I got was an emotional depth that blew me away.” – Kitty Smith
“Well written, delightfully sensual, and exciting in more ways than one.” – Hawk

 

Excerpt – Chapter 1:
My husband had this little patch of soft, slightly reddish hair right above his tailbone. He slept on the left side of the bed, me on the right. Every night in bed I would snuggle up to my husband
and slide my hand up his thigh, over his hips until I got to this little spot on his lower back right above his tailbone. I would stroke this patch of soft hair and skin with the back of my hand. My soft little spot. This amazing spot of soft skin and hair that was my little wonder zone; my little wonder zone of pleasure for both of us. Nothing felt better to me then touching my husband.
When I touched him like this, my husband would usually back up his butt into my pelvic area and I would slide my arm over his slender hips, our warmth coming together. This would be how we would begin our lovemaking, his soft breaths of pleasure at my touch, and me wanting to feel his warmth. This was my utter comfort zone, snuggled up behind my husband. I always so wanted to be part of him, feel him, please him, and he would get lost in pleasure with me. He always told me he had never had sex like this, this joining we did when we were pleased each other. This is what sex really is, the pleasing of each other, the connection.
But no more did we have that connection. My husband no longer found me attractive or wanted me. How did I know? The scowl on his face most of the time he talked to me? The fact that my husband always looked down at the floor when talking to me? Almost as if it was beneath him to even speak to me? And he never looked at my face, let alone into my eyes. The fact that he never came to watch me play at tennis tournaments anymore? Did I wonder why that happened? Or that he never asked me about my work? Or asked me about anything? The fact that he just hated me even being in the room anymore when he watched ESPN and their talking heads for hours on end? I mean gosh forbid I would start to talk to him when the ESPN channel was on the television. Holy crap, sacrilegious!
No, that wasn’t when I knew things were over with my marriage. We had been going through a rough patch for months, or so I thought. Married couples go through rough patches where they don’t understand each other and don’t have sex. Dry periods, literally dry, due to lack of fucking periods. It is just what happens in marriages, right? I LOVE LOVE LOVE sex and he was, or so my husband said, just in his mid 40s and had low testosterone, or was tired from work or stressed out or whatever men claim to be going through in life. Having sex just seemed like too much of a bother for the man I thought was Mr. Wonderful, my best friend and partner.
I though was the opposite. I was craving sex. The lack of sex was driving me slightly insane from the lack of physical sexual satisfaction and the loss of closeness to my husband. All I could think about was that my husband didn’t want to have sex with me anymore after just two years of marriage and my pelvic area was throbbing with desire most of the time for him.
Then I came home early from tennis one evening; I played tennis most evenings for a couple of hours or so after work, and came home a little early. I could hear the shower running, thought I would jump in with him, surprise him. I loved shower sex. I mean who doesn’t love shower sex, wet slippery soapy skin, warm water cascading down our bodies, very erotic, the taste of clean, fresh smelling skin. Full bodies touching, the ultimate erotic moments.
I tore off my tennis clothes as I walked down the hall to join him in the shower. But the door to the bathroom was locked. I was shaking the doorknob, mystified at why the bathroom door was locked. How strange I thought; I mean why would you even close the door when you were home alone taking a shower? How was I going to surprise my husband and join him? Then I heard it, the moaning. My husband was a quiet shy man, ridiculously so, so this moaning was very odd. I made fun of his shyness often, how verbally quiet he was, tried to get him to come out of his shell, laugh out loud more, tried to get him to talk during sex, tell me what he liked and such, but to no avail. But my husband was anything but quiet now. Now he was screaming to the point that I thought he was singing a heavy metal song. I was laughing, I had never heard him sing out loud before, could never get him to sing 80s songs in the car with me, so I was laughing, and knocking on the door loudly, and he stopped “singing” cold. Then I got it.
He wasn’t singing; he was moaning loudly because he was masturbating and cuming in the shower. Cuming hard from extreme pleasure at his own hand. He couldn’t or wouldn’t have sex with his wife of two years but he could beat off and scream in pleasure in the shower when I wasn’t home. He had never screamed in pleasure like that when he came in me, gosh knows I could never even get him to cum from a blowjob no matter now hard I worked at it. I mean I really, really, worked at it until my jaw and the back of my throat was sore many times.
I was horrified and felt sick to my stomach; rejection overwhelmed me as I stood outside that locked bathroom door listening to my husband cuming. Nausea. This was real physical nausea I was experiencing. I mean when you had a willing wife, a beautiful willing wife that loved to give blowjobs and SWALLOW cum, why would you choose to masturbate by yourself in the shower? How could so many men want me all the time and not my husband? I still got looks from men on a regular basis even though I tried to avoid other men with the way that I dressed and lack of contact. What had I done wrong in my marriage? But more importantly, where do we as a married couple go from here? How do I fix this? I felt dizzy from confusion. I sulked down to the floor on my knees outside the bathroom door cold and naked. The dogs gathered around me trying to comfort me in my sadness and grief. I held on to the dogs desperately. I was shaking from cold, I was naked. Then felt stupid being naked not just physically but emotionally.
He came out of the bathroom, embarrassed, apologizing, mumbling, making no sense. He just stepped over me, like it was perfectly normal for me to be sitting down on the floor outside of the bathroom naked holding onto the dogs. I stood up after he stepped over me, I got angry just looking at him; my husband didn’t know what to do, but one thing was certain, he didn’t want to talk about the masturbation in the shower to me. He walked around the house aimlessly, ignoring me and the dogs. We ignored each other for the next couple of hours until bedtime. He wore sweats to bed so I couldn’t touch him that night which was ok, I didn’t want to touch my husband, I was lost in my own thoughts. His avoidance of me made me feel disgusting.
Obviously I was a disgusting person; that is why my husband didn’t want me anymore physically. I cuddled with my dogs, my wonderful, always loving dogs. I was fat and ugly that must be it, undesirable. I fell asleep with that thought.

 

VANESSA BOGENHOLMAbout Vanessa Bogenholm:
Vanessa Bogenholm has been writing Romance/Women’s Fiction, reviews and short stories for numerous websites and magazines for years. Her debut novel – The Moral Line – was published in March 2014 by AuthorHouse. It is available in eBook, paperback, and hardback formats from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, AuthorHouse, and many other websites.
Vanessa lives in Los Gatos, California with her three dogs, and teaches tennis.
Readers can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
For more information, to request a copy of The Moral Line, or to set up an interview or appearance by Vanessa Bogenholm, please contact Kelsey McBride at Book Publicity Services at Kelsey@BookPublicityServices.com or 805.807.9027.