Eggcerpt by Tonya Callihan

First let's learn a little about Tonya.

She has been writing all of her life. At the age of 13, on Christmas break she snuck one of her mom’s romances from a box brought over by her grandma. The novel she read was ‘Montana Sky’ by Nora Roberts. Once she finished reading that book she knew someday she would to be a published romance author. She has been writing every since.

Now a single mom she balances her time between her 10 month old son, Mason, writing, work, and the Internet!

Tonya loves to help support some of her favorite authors and is very involved in several street teams and posts book reviews over at her blog!

Her first novel was published in January 2010, Night Promises, the first book in her Night Pleasures series! After a long wait her second book from MuseItUp Publishing, Claimed will be coming out Spring 2013! With hopefully, more releases this year as well.

My Links:

Author FB:

https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Author-Tonya-Callihan/155567004477447

 

Website:

http://www.tonyacallihan.weebly.com/

Blog

http://www.tonyasramblings.blogspot.com

Twitter:

http://twitter.com/tonyacallihan

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/11898212-tonya

Pinterest:

http://pinterest.com/masonsmomma12/

Google+

https://plus.google.com/u/0/104988658514193732252#104988658514193732252/posts

 

 

“Our new girl is looking good out there.” Mac handed Kelly a bottle of water from the small fridge in the corner of their office.

“That’s good. I wasn’t sure about hiring a human. The last one quit within the first hour, but she’s made it through two nights.”

“Our last one was more concerned with whether vampires really existed or not. With Cammie, I believe she’s got a real interest with vamps and respects us.”

“How did your date go last night?”

“There won’t be a second one. For a three-hundred year old vamp, he has no charm and absolutely nothing but blood and the sport of finding the next meal to talk about.”

“I think Micah is interested in you.”

“What makes you say that?” “When I arrived at Connor’s, Micah asked me how you were. I told him you were on a date, and he looked upset and got short with me.”

“Well, I’m not interested in him.”

“Is there such a thing as life mates?”

“Did he say we were life mates? I tell you what; he didn’t get the hint seventy years ago, but he’s going to get it now.” She tossed her water bottle in the trash.

“I’ll take that as a yes and a no. He didn’t mention you two were life mates.”

She stood in front of Kelly’s desk. “There are rumors that life mates really exist. But I’ve never felt that pull, I guess you could call it.”

“Can humans feel it with vampires?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of it. As much as I hate to admit this, Micah would be the man you need to talk to about this type of stuff. He’s been around longer than I have, and he knows how it works.”

“Do you not want to know?” “I’m not interested in settling down. Honestly, I don’t believe vamps are capable of settling down.”

“Why not?”

“Because we are creatures of habit. Sex and blood. We need both and very often. We can’t stay with the same human for a long period of time, or we will kill them or be forced to turn them against their will. Vamps can feed from one another during sex, but the vamp will still have a strong hunger for human blood.”

“That answers my questions then.”

“Do you think you and Connor are life mates?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve never felt a pull, as you said. I was more curious about a lasting relationship between a human and vampire.”

“I hate to let you down but it’s almost impossible. If you and Connor are life mates, you would have to let him turn you.”

“But as you said, we would still need human blood.”

Book Reviews:

http://www.tonyasbookreviews.blogspot.com

Buy Night Promises

Secret Cravings Publishing

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=21&products_id=2&zenid=ac9d9b16effcb31fa9370fb8e2b157da

 Amazon

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=21&products_id=2&zenid=ac9d9b16effcb31fa9370fb8e2b157da

 Barnes and Nobel

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/night-promises-tonya-renee-callihan/1029632181?ean=9781936653010

Egg-cerpt - Revive - Was it a Bad Date?

Needing to revive her life and jump start her heart, Jennifer Larson is facing the biggest challenge of her life, moving into an unplanned future. While the rest of the Executives Wives' Club continue to mourn their husbands, Jen is tempted into the future by a sexy chiropractor, Hagan Chaney.
 

But does he love her or her money?

“No, but it doesn’t appear as if Hagan feels the same way about your date as you do.” Brie cocked a brow and nodded approval. “He goes all googly-eyed when he looks at you.”

Jen shook her head, uncertain if Brie had read the signals correctly. Could he still find her attractive after their date last night?

Surely not.

Yet, she couldn’t forget the inviting strength of Hagan’s body lying over hers on the floor. “I wish, but he’s only being kind.”

“Wrong,” Brie whispered and lifted a container of steaming spaghetti sauce. “The man looks hungry, and it’s not for my pasta.” She walked out of the kitchen.

Jen stood, staring after her friend.

Could Brie be right?

Would Hagan ask her out again? And if he did, should she go?

She strayed to the door of the dining room and her gaze narrowed in on Hagan like a homing device. His strawberry blond head bowed low, he sat listening to the constant chatter of his young dining partner.

Jen waited for a moment for him to glance at her. When he didn’t, she searched the table for an open seat.

Why would he want her? She had nothing to offer.

Yes, some men might find her attractive because of the funds she’d received from Craig’s life insurance. However, as a doctor with a successful practice, Hagan didn’t need her money.

“Mrs. Larson, sit by me.” Ethan’s reminder of her married named slashed through her desire to get serious with any man. She nodded and strayed forward. Her marriage to Craig hadn’t been perfect. So why fall into the same old trap with a new guy? Maybe the EWC members’ opinions about dating again were right.

She should’ve waited.

Jen walked around Brie, who sat at the end of the table, and slid into the seat next to Ethan. “Everything looks great, Brie.”

“Thanks. Why don’t we past the salad around this way?” Brie handed the bowl to Jen and glanced around the table as if afraid she’d forgotten something.

“Mr. Cheney, can you please put some spaghetti on my plate.” Allison batted her eyes and offered him a shy smile.

Sitting across the table from them, Jen couldn’t help but notice the young girl’s hand sprayed delicately on his arm, the twinkle in her eyes, and the small smile, which fluttered repeatedly over her lips.

How could anyone resist her youthful charm?

Jen gripped the tongs a little tighter, angry for being jealous of a seven-year-old. She selected a few extra croutons and stared at the green leaves.

A man as sexy as Hagan could have any woman he wanted—one less than half his age. He didn’t need her problems, money, or hang-ups about having kids. He could choose a wife who would gladly give him a horde of kids.

Good for him. She didn’t need a husband she’d only like to have a little fun.

Read First Chapter of "Youthful Temptations" and Reviews

   

Purchase ebook at:

www.smashwords.com

www.barnesandnoble.com

www.kobobooks.com

itunes.apple.com

At Amazon

Egg-cerpt Exchange with Zrinka Jelic

My second novel, a pirate’s romance titled “Treasured Chest” has just been released on November 24th and is now available at Black Opal Books Amazon Barnes & Noble AllRomance eBooks Smashwords and Kobobooks

 

BLURB

 

The last thing Captain Sirena expected to find on a desolate island was...him!

 

When Carmen Ventura takes up her post as commander of the Strega, she becomes the new Captain Sirena, the legendary pirate most people think is just a myth created to scare children. Her first quest is to search for the “treasured chest” hidden by her predecessor. But before she can even begin the hunt, she runs into Marko Lucin, captain of the Levant and Carmen’s most insane adventure yet.

 

How can the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen be a bloody pirate?

 

Never one to pass up an adventure, especially where pretty women are concerned, Marko finds his ultimate challenge in Carmen. Not only does he fall for her courage, spunk, and intelligence, but the lady pirate can also help him get what he wants—the famous treasure everyone whispers about. His only problem—how long can he play the charming captain before she discovers his true intentions?

 

EXCERPT

 

She was ready to walk away and leave him stranded...but the man had a treasure map. What if it was real?

 

Sirena’s mind raced. Even with different colors hoisted, after the last night’s raid, she ran the risk that the Strega’s sails would be detected as soon as they appeared on the horizon. Her ship could not approach the city’s defensive walls. Not until all the rumors settled and no survivors would recognize them. On the other hand, she couldn’t pass through the Pila Gates as a lone woman. Last time she had spoken to her brother, he had said he’d be docking in Ragusa’s harbor on the second Sunday of August. Still two days away, but she should pay him a visit. Maybe he’d been home and had news.

 

“I possess a map.” The man’s voice snapped her out of her planning.

 

She lowered her sword, and her glance, to his feet and flicked a crab into the sea. “Charts are of no interest to me.”

 

“Ah.” He stroked his chin, leaving sooty fingerprints on his blond beard. “But this is not an ordinary map.” His grin exposed a row of white teeth, a rarity. “It leads to a treasure.”

 

“Treasure means different things to different people.” Something familiar reflected in his eyes. She stepped back. Now, where had she seen him before?

 

“True,” he said, “but I believe this map is real.” The same sparkle flashed in his eyes, reaffirming that flicker of recognition, but she still couldn’t place the sense of familiarity.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’ve had it all my life.” He shrugged and gave a shy smile. “Call me a captain, but I’ve never been able to make any sense of the damn thing.”

KUDOS FOR TREASURED CHEST

Treasured Chest is captivating and action packed. The scenes were so vivid I felt the ship’s deck rolling beneath me while shouting commands to the crew and dreaming of being thoroughly kissed by Captain Marko. Treasured Chest is an exciting story, a shelf-keeper. – JJ Keller, best-selling author of Trade Agreement

I liked the character development and the plot, and it is obvious that Jelic did her homework as the shipping terms, etc., appear to be very authentic. I didn’t once come across something and said, wait a minute this is supposed to be historical—as sometimes happens with historical romances. Treasured Chest is fun and entertaining and the plot has some nice twists and turns. – Taylor, reviewer

I found Treasured Chest to be a strong second novel for Zrinka Jelic. While I enjoyed her first book, I think Jelic’s writing is much stronger in this second book. The character development is excellent, the dialogue convincing, and the plot intriguing. – Regan, reviewer

AUTHOR’S BIO

Zrinka Jelic lives in Ontario, Canada, with her husband and two children. A member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapter Fantasy Futuristic &Paranormal, as well as Savvy Authors, she writes contemporary fiction—which leans toward the paranormal—and adds a pinch of history. Her characters come from all walks of life, and although she prefers red, romance comes in many colors. Given Jelic’s love for her native Croatia and the Adriatic Sea, her characters usually find themselves dealing with a fair amount of sunshine, but that’s about the only break they get. “Alas,” Jelic says, with a grin. “Some rain must fall in everyone’s life.”

 

Contact me @: www.bondedbycrimson.blogspot.com

http://zrinkajelicromanceauthor.wordpress.com/

Find me on: Facebook Twitter 

Watch the book trailer: Bonded by Crimson

 

Egg-cerpt for "Coinage of Commitment"

Coinage of Commitment: Contemporary Romance by Rob Costelloe

 

Blurb 

Wayne and Nancy grow up on opposite sides of the country, each certain they must have love better than what others will settle for. Something stronger, something richer, something worth searching for. During the turbulent nineteen-sixties, they meet while he is attending blue-collar Drexel, and she is at neighboring, Ivy League Penn. Although irresistibly drawn to each other, they must overcome obstacles posed by the class and social differences that separate them, as well as opposition from both families, and later, a twist of fate that will be the cruelest test of all. Can they reach the emotional heights they seek? Can they overcome time's downward pulling inertia? Coinage of Commitment is dedicated to all who ever wondered about the altitude love might soar to.

Find it on Amazon at:

http://www.amazon.com/Coinage-of-Commitment-ebook/dp/B00AY0YGRO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1357916157&sr=1-1&keywords=coinage+of+commitment

 

 

Excerpt

Setup: Late Friday night, 1968, at Philadelphia’s 30^th St. Subway Station. Wayne is looking from the trolley station, where he stands, to the adjacent subway train (El) platform. 

As he watched absently, the girl from Sullivan’s came down the El station steps opposite him. She paused at the foot of the stairs, getting her bearings. Although adequate lighting bathed the platform, most riders took stock of others in the vicinity for safety’s sake. It was a natural precaution, instinctive for most, and especially important this late at night. She saw him, signaled recognition by a parting of her lips that was not quite a smile, then she lowered her gaze, turned, and strolled slowly out of sight to the other side of the stairway.

Seeing her again pricked him with an off-kilter joy, uplifting and refreshing, partly because she recognized and acknowledged him, but also because she seemed so buoyantly out of place down here, her bright beauty undefeated by the dank-smelling gloom of the subway. He smiled, turned away, and sauntered to the south side of the trolley platform. The minutes dragged, but no trolley car arrived. He began mentally composing a theme paper for his International Politics course, the only non-technical one he had that semester. Ideas came to him, prancing, and he thought of getting a notebook from his bag.

“Police! Help! Help me!” A woman’s screaming and it came from the El platform.

Thinking frantically of the girl, he ran to the north edge of the platform and jumped the foot or so that got him down onto the trolley tracks. A steel grate fence separated the two transit systems, but it had seen better days. A section was ajar, just ten feet to his left, and he swung it open enough to squeeze through.

Now things got difficult. The El platform was too high and far to jump to. The train tracks gleamed below him, the electrified rail closest, then the two steel tracks. He saw only one way to get there and didn’t slow down to analyze the risk. He threw his bag onto the opposite platform, then leaped forward, over the electrified rail, and down into the square trench that ran a foot and a half below and between the steel tracks. The platform loomed just above him, and the smell of ozone was stronger this close to the electrified rail—the one he must not fall back against. With his momentum still carrying forward from the jump, he kept moving, aware his footing and balance must be perfect. He reached up and grabbed the El platform edge, stepped up on the rail before him, then used his grip on the edge to lever himself up and onto the platform, landing on his right shoulder and side. Feeling no pain, he got to his feet and sprinted west down the platform toward the woman’s screams.

As he ran, he recalled what he had seen: the girl from Sullivan’s, a nondescript man, and three black youths: teens with their heads wrapped in dark bandannas, signifying…he knew not what. They were what fueled his urgency. Where was she? The commotion was still ahead of him.

He ran at top speed past the central vending area and spotted figures near the far steps. He could see her blond mane, somewhat disheveled now, and she stood with her arm across a shorter girl’s shoulder. The nondescript man ran up and joined them.

“He took my purse,” the other girl wailed. “I can’t believe I was so careless to let him get my purse that easily.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the blond girl said, her arm still across the smaller girl’s shoulder in comfort.

“All my ID. A credit card. And I just got my paycheck cashed today. How stupid can you get?”

Another woman came down the steps and joined the group. As Wayne approached and slowed, a balding, thirtyish-looking man passed him from behind, joined the scene, said he had heard the commotion from above, and that a companion had gone to the toll booths to get help. Then two of the black youths he had seen earlier ran up from the west.

“He high-tailed it onto the tracks,” said the shorter of the youths. “He’s got choice of Thirty-third Street trolley or Thirty-fourth Street El station, so it looks like we kiss that one good-bye. You know what I’m saying? The Fuzz’l never collar that dude now.”

As though on cue, a police officer, complete with German Shepherd, came down the steps and assumed authority. The third black youth also joined the crowd. Wayne held back, not seeing what he could contribute by his late arrival. The blond girl had seen his running approach. Or had she? Her gaze had flicked briefly in his direction, then back to her charge. The tension eased with collective relief, and the officer started questioning the stricken girl, unpacking a notebook as he spoke.

Wayne thought of how the blond girl continued to be too distracted to notice him, and he felt bemused by the irony of his situation. He had arrived about 7.2 seconds too late to be of any use, even to the wrong damsel in distress. His breathing slowed. Still not seeing anything he could contribute, he turned and walked slowly in the direction he had come. He needed to retrieve his bag from where he had tossed it onto the platform. When he got there, he picked up the bag and looked out over the gleaming tracks toward the trolley station. No way, he thought, realizing with a shiver the danger he had risked. The price of another transit token wasn’t nearly worth the peril. And then, as though to underscore the irony, his trolley arrived and then quickly departed. Oh well, might as well climb the stairs to the mid-level pay booths so he could get back down to the trolley station. He took his sweet time since he probably had at least a twenty-minute wait. He approached the corner of the stairway, trying to remember whether the trolleys discontinued service during the wee hours. Suddenly the blond girl stood in front of him, her eyes wide, her expression anxious.

“It just dawned on me,” she said. “How did you get over here?”

 

Rob Costelloe Connections

Home (plus blog):       http://www.rcostelloe.com/coinage-of-commitment.html

Facebook:                    http://www.facebook.com/robert.costelloe.56?ref=tn_tnmn

Twitter:                       https://twitter.com/r_costelloe

Pinterest:                     http://pinterest.com/rcostelloe/

Goodreads:                 http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1284780.Robert_Costelloe

 

Egg-cerpts from Anna Bayes

Under His Wings, a M/M/F menage love story by Anna Bayes

 

Blurb:

Bonnie thought Matt was everything she ever wanted: boyishly charming, understanding and exciting. Then she realized that he had another lover: Sean, an artistic, intensely jealous and handsome man. She tries, and fails to accept herself as the barely tolerated female lover. On New Year's Eve, she demands a meeting amongst the three. The confrontation sparks dangerous rage, and something else with an entirely different heat level: steamy desire. Can she bring about a reconciliation satisfactory to everyone involved as she surrenders to her passion?

 

Buy link:

http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=79_183&products_id=3772

 

Excerpt:

As I stood before my reflection in the mirror this morning, I tried to rehearse my request to Matt. I repeated it many times, looking into my eyes: the round, dark brown pupils returning my gaze unconvincingly. I shook my hair loose, and reasoned with myself again. If all Matt's talk about my importance is only empty words to keep me, then he is a lying bastard, and I am better off without him. I tried to say it aloud with conviction, but my voice betrayed me; I sounded like a frightened, disappointed little girl. I know logically that I can live without him, but loving him has become such an integral, necessary part of my life; I am not sure I could stop, even if we parted. 

 

5 pm. Matt took my hand as I closed my shop early for the day, kissed it and buried it in the large pocket in his jacket. I love how my hand fits snugly in his; it is as if all my body parts have been tailor-made to suit him, and melt into him. I concentrated on staring at the toes of my boots, mustering up my courage, then I looked squarely into his eyes, and said, "I want Sean to meet me." I had initially practiced declaring in a crescendo, "I refuse to be hidden like an undignified whore. I am not a filler between Sean and other things in your life. I need him to acknowledge me as a person. I demand his respect," but this part of the speech became stuck in my throat. Matt looked at me, dumbfounded, until I almost started to believe that I had delivered my full speech, after all. Then he clenched his teeth, tightened his grip on my hand, and said, "Yes, you deserve better than this."

 

The taxi ride to his apartment was a blur. The original plan for tonight, it being New Year's Eve, had been that Matt would spend the early evening with me, then return home to Sean for dinner and to count down to 2013 over sizzling sex. Sean is not there when we arrive at the apartment, and we sit on the sofa to wait. Matt looks frighteningly dashing: his eyes blazing, his whole body tense, clearly deep in thought, preparing for something. He looks up as the sound of keys in the lock announces Sean's return. "Hey you..." Sean's lilting voice stops in its tracks as he opens the door wider and sees me seated next to his lover.

 

Find Anna Bayes at these places:

Her blog (http://annabayes.wordpress.com)

Her Amazon author page (http://www.amazon.com/author/annabayes)

Her Goodreads author page (http://www.goodreads.com/annabayes)

Her Manic Readers author page (http://www.manicreaders.com/annabayes)

Necessary End Egg-cerpt by Diana Rubino

A NECESSARY END is a paranormal twist on John Wilkes Booth's insane plot to assassinate President Lincoln. When Booth, under the guise of seeking spiritual advice, visits the President's medium to gather information about Lincoln's habits in order to kidnap him, a malevolent spirit begins to haunt and torment him, driving him to the brink of insanity. A mysterious coin also appears out of nowhere, and returns every time Booth tries to discard it. Each return of the bloodthirsty Roman coin brings increasingly terrifying events and eerie hauntings.

In the midst of these strange visitations, Booth falls in love with Alice Grey, a beautiful actress who's hired by the government to spy on him. She’s torn between her love for Booth and her duty to protect the President from assassination

It is a 'dark' paranormal because a malevolent spirit haunts Booth to assassinate the 'tyrant' as in Julius Caesar. But since I believe every situation, no matter how foreboding, allows for humor, I've added a few lighter scenes that offer the reader some much-needed relief. How can Booth's plot not leave itself wide open for humor? It was pure comic farce, how he recruited this motley band of adoring disciples and gave them each an assignment in his absurd conspiracy. Yes, Booth sure gets what's coming to him in the end.

I won a Romantic Times Top Pick award for a previous novel, and am the author of 13 paranormal and historical novels. The popularity of the Lincoln movie, Lincoln's birthday and Preident's Day inspired me to launch a giveaway of A NECESSARY END. Now it's on sale at Amazon for $.99.
You can see it here: http://amzn.com/B00AX9Y6NU

Excerpt:

Washington City, November, 1864

I don’t believe in ghosts, Wilkes assured himself as he listened to the high keening of the medium. He shivered as a draft wafted over him. Smoky incense intensified the gloom. He wasn’t at this séance to seek omens or cryptic guidance from beyond the grave. He was attending this charade to learn of Abraham Lincoln’s future.

He still ached with grief over his boyhood friend’s death. A part of his soul died along with John Beall, who was everything the South stood for. Rage over the betrayal seized his heart and boiled his blood. How could Lincoln do this to another human being? How could the President look him in the eye and promise he’d let John live, then murder him?
Wilkes fought to subdue these emotions. No phantom held the answers he sought on this bone-chilling night, just the bird-like matron entranced before him, Nettie Colburn Maynard. The medium was Mrs. Lincoln’s spiritualist, famed for her evenings at the White House “bringing back” their dead boys, Eddie and Willie. Wilkes had to admit she put on a good show. One thing he appreciated was fine acting. But he was wary. The parlor felt haunted as shadows crept up the walls. The hairs at the back of his neck already stood on end, and a chill slithered through his body. Although his hands were icy, his palms sweated, making them even colder. The room stood silent and musty as a tomb. The dank staleness assaulted him. His throat aching for a trickle of brandy, he coughed.
 

Mrs. Maynard’s eyes were shut tight. His own gaze darted about, unable to settle. Candles flickered jagged shadows around the room. Wallpaper patterns swirled to impenetrable fog. And the curtains...did they flutter, even though the windows were closed? 

“A spirit is present, Mr. Booth.” Her voice, almost a whisper, barely reached his ears. She exhaled feathery tendrils of steam in the eerie half-light. “It watches over you, seeks to guide you.” He felt her shoulders shake with violent tremors. “He was powerful in life, but more powerful in death, released of mortal frailty.”

Wilkes felt the dread of approaching harm, but sat too spellbound to get up and quit the whole thing. He guessed it was raw fear that kept him frozen in his seat. His voice, trained in delivery of lines, was suddenly struck silent. He had to admit she was gifted, the perfect witch for Macbeth. The funereal black dress draped her gaunt figure like a shroud. Shadowed by the pale flames, Mrs. Maynard played her role to perfection. Once again, he convinced himself it was all an act. But if it was real and some being from beyond really did hover over him…

Just then he realized his jaw was tightly clenched. He struggled to slacken it.
“He lived many centuries ago, Mr. Booth, and knew you by another name. He revisits you now, drawn close by your pain and grief. She shuddered again. Her grip crushed his hand, her knuckles white as bleached bone. “I feel his essence very forcefully, right there…” Her hands turned to ice. “Behind you…”

He nearly ripped a tendon snapping his neck around, but saw neither phantom nor flesh, just movement at the edge of his vision flickering up the wall. Threads of fear tickled at his nerves. Nothing was as it seemed. Turning to face her again, he felt foolish for succumbing to her trickery. An embarrassed blush heated his cheeks as the room temperature plummeted. He breathed deeply to calm his pounding heart.

“He will thrust you towards your true destiny, young man.”

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/DianaLRubino
Reach me at
diana@dianarubino.com
and www.dianarubino.com
www.DianaRubinoAuthor.blogspot.com

www.DianaRubino.comhttp://www.facebook.com/#!/dianarubino

Thanks Diana for doing the egg-cerpt exchange with me,

Tina

Eggcerpt Exchange by Carol Marvell

Blurb for Slave Trader – In the Name of Freedom

For the past three years, young prostitutes and destitute women have been vanishing without trace. Their fates unknown, the only common links to their disappearances are their good looks and prison records.

Never before has a cop been taken.

Detective Billie McCoy, a member of an elite undercover squad, is on assignment when she stumbles onto a slavery racket that goes deeper than she could ever have imagined. Plunged into a web of corruption and evil, not only does she have to contend with the slave traders, but her fellow prisoners – all who hate cops.

Stretching from the streets of Sydney to the rainforests in far north Queensland, it’s a race against time. Filled with determination, disappointment and twists, the story follows Billie’s fight for freedom and her greatest ever challenge. She will need all her cunning and skill to get out alive and see justice done.

Blood will be spilt, hopes will be destroyed – all to uncover a plot so unpredictable that only fate can decide . . . .

Links to buy Slave Trader:

Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Name-Freedom-Slave-Trader-ebook/dp/B0081C6GIE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340189217&sr=1-1&keywords=slave+trader+-+in+the+name+of+freedom

B&N
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/carol-marvell

Wild Child Publishing

http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=70&products_id=381

Read the first chapter : http://billiemccoy.blogspot.com.au/p/blog-page.html

Excerpt:

Billie turned away. She leaned on the wall and stared up at the ceiling, torn apart. She was here undercover about to set up a big gun dealer and bring him to justice. If she helped this girl, it could blow everything. All the work she'd put into getting this close to the gunrunners could be in jeopardy. Her nature compelled her to aid someone in trouble.

Damn it! Why did this have to happen now? She should just walk away and pretend she'd never seen it. After all, it had nothing to do with her. Yeah right. No way could she turn a blind eye to this. Turning back, she peered through the crack again.

The redhead in the suit coat had pulled a small syringe from his pocket. The sight of it upset the distressed girl even more. She stared at it over the big hand clamped across her mouth, her eyes widened in horror. In a desperate bid to deter his intentions, she kicked out. Only by chance her knee knocked the redhead's hand. The needle rolled across the floor. He cursed.

The ponytail man snarled. His large, gangly hand dropped from the girl's mouth, and he slugged her hard. The trapped girl grunted and sank in his grasp.

The blow sent Billie into action. She couldn't leave the girl to these thugs. With a little luck, she could pull off both operations.

Sneaking in, the detective picked up an old, wooden chair just inside the room. Although tempted to use her gun, silence was of the utmost importance. She couldn't afford to alert the men upstairs. They would be edgy enough, and the sound of a gunshot would certainly send them on a runner.

Both thugs had their backs to Billie, their attention on their captive. Mumbling curses, the redhead's rising temper dampened his cautiousness. The chase brought him into the closest position to her. With the chair gripped in her hands, Billie jumped at the punk and cracked it over his head. The chair shattered into pieces. He moaned and collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.

His partner spun at the noise. He stared at her with a startled expression before turning a stunned look at his downed partner. Overcoming his surprise, he looked back up at her. The thug's lips twisted in a snarl. He dumped the girl to the floor. She fell in a heap. He lunged forward.

Billie turned and faced him full on. She kicked up. Her heel smashed into his nose well before he could touch her.

The guy's head rocked backwards. He recoiled with a couple of staggered steps. Billie followed, giving him no time to recover. Using the same foot, she buried it into his stomach. The impact doubled him over, driving the breath from his burning lungs. She stepped forward and brought up her knee, slamming it into the side of his jaw. He reeled sideways with a groan and collapsed, motionless.

Billie looked at him, and then glanced at the other guy. Neither looked like they'd be moving for a while. She blew out a sigh and tossed the busted chair to the side.

The detective crossed to the dazed girl and knelt beside her. She studied her face. A bruise already showed through on her cheek, marring her good looks. She lay relaxed in her enforced sleep, her features free from the strain they'd carried only a few moments before. Brown, shoulder-length hair bordered the girl's dainty face. A clean, fresh complexion enhanced her attractiveness. Long eyelashes guarded her closed eyes. She carried a 'girl next door' image, a guileless look that bathed her in a simplistic innocence yet held a disguised beauty to catch any man's eye. Her slender figure did her proud. Billie couldn't help wonder why she would be in a dive like this, or why these men were after her. She was a pretty girl and had a lot going for her, but something had definitely gone wrong for her to end up here and in this kind of trouble.

The girl stirred, bringing the detective out of her thoughts. Her head rolled towards Billie. Her eyes flickered open. They looked glazed and confused.

"Take it easy. You're safe now," Billie said, brushing a strand of the long, brown hair back off her face.

The girl's confused gaze focused on her rescuer, and she tensed. She sat upright. Her gaze darted around the room in search of her would-be attackers.

'Hey, it's okay!" Billie took hold of her by the shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Shooting her no more than a brief glance, the frightened girl stared at the unconscious men. They were no longer a threat. She turned back to the blonde kneeling beside her and relaxed in Billie's grip.

"Are you okay?" Billie dropped her hands from her shoulders yet maintained a wary eye on her.

The dishevelled girl nodded. "Yeah, I think so." She turned away from her and studied the men. After a lingering moment, she looked back at Billie. "Thank you very much," she said in a whisper. "Who-who are you?"

Before the detective could answer, a voice from the doorway interrupted them.

"So this is why they're taking so long."

Billie's head snapped around in surprise. Three men stood in the doorway. Billie gave them a quick, assessing look. The guy in the middle, a short, plump, half-bald man in his late fifties stood with a thin smile on his lips. His gaze was fixed on her. His bright Hawaiian shirt boldly expressed his personality, loud and dominant. Short tufts of curly grey hair overflowed from the vee of the collared shirt. His round, beach-ball face was clean-shaven, like the top of his head. Only a strip of grey-flecked hair ran from one ear around the back of his head to the other.

The other two flanked him, their bulky frames towering above him. Dressed like the two on the floor, they fell comfortably into their category: hired 'heavies'. These paid henchmen eyed her with guarded looks.

The guy on the left of the fat man carried a scar down his right cheek. His hair was slicked back out of his face, leaving the dark, distrusting eyes in clear view. The third guy, a curly-haired blond, was shorter yet bulkier than his comrade. He stared with a blank expression set on his bristled face, clearly expressing his dislike. They stood protectively by their boss's side, like dogs on a leash waiting for a command to please their master.

The little, fat man's gaze remained locked on the blonde girl in front of him. "My God."

His astonished tone snapped Billie's attention back to him. She looked more closely, sensing something familiar about him. Her nerves stiffened. Suddenly, she knew.

"Bates?" The name slipped through her lips before she could stop it. She'd failed to identify him in that first brief glimpse. The bright clothes and menacing conditions engulfing the tense situation had thrown her. He looked so different, and so out of place. She'd met this guy a couple of times, and both times he'd been dressed in a full suit, tie and all-back in police headquarters. So why would Captain Bates, head of Missing Persons, be here? Why would he be interested in this girl, especially in a place like this? And what was this well-respected police officer doing with these henchmen? Slowly, she stood, not taking her eyes off him.

"What's going on here?" The young cop took a step towards him.

"Ahh, what a pity, a sure pity." He sighed. His hand reached in through the open neck of his shirt and pulled a pistol out from under it. He dropped it to waist level, aiming at her chest. His tone may have held some remorse, but his actions didn't.

 Find me here:

Website: http://carolmarvell.webs.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Carol-Marvell/320383708039219

Blog: http://billiemccoy.blogspot.com.au/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/carolmarvell

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6430872.Carol_Marvell

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/carol-marvell/65/61/633

Google+: https://plus.google.com/108095091683388475469/posts

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8xsjDsCdos&feature=share

Thanks Carol for dropping by today,

Tina