Dark Brew: A time travel romance by @DianaLRubino #EggcerptExchange

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Diana L. Rubino is here with an #Eggcerpt from her time travel romance, Dark Brew. I love this cover, because it appears to feature the Prague astronomical clock, which I’ll be blogging about tomorrow.

Dark Brew cover

Learn from the past or forever be doomed to repeat it.

Accused of her husband’s murder, Kylah McKinley, a practicing Druid, travels back through time to her past life in 1324 Ireland and brings the true killer to justice.

Two months of hell change Kylah’s life forever. On her many past life regressions, she returns to 14th century Ireland as Alice Kyteler, a druid moneylender falsely accused of murdering her husband. Kylah’s life mirrors Alice’s in one tragic event after another—she finds her husband sprawled on the floor, cold, blue, with no pulse. Evidence points to her, and police arrest her for his murder. Kylah and Alice shared another twist of fate—they fell in love with the man who believed in them. As Kylah prepares for her trial and fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or forever be doomed to repeat it.

Purchase Dark Brew

Kindle, Amazon Paperback, B&N Nook, The Wild Rose Press—Paperback & Ebook

Excerpt:

Kylah shut Ted’s den door. She couldn’t bear to look at the spot where he gasped his last breath. His presence, an imposing force, lingered. So did his scent, a blend of tobacco, pine aftershave and manly sweat. Each reminder ripped into her heart like a knife. Especially now with the funeral looming ahead, the eulogies, the mournful organ hymns, the tolling bells . . .

These ceremonies should bring closure, but they’d only prolong the agony of her grief. She wanted to remember him alive for a while longer, wishing she could delay these morbid customs until the hurt subsided.

Throughout the house, his essence echoed his personality: the wine stain on the carpet, the heap of dirty shirts, shorts and socks piled up in the laundry room, the spattered stove, his fingerprints on the microwave. But she couldn’t bring herself to clean any of it up. Painful as these remnants were, they offered a strange comfort. He still lived here.

“I’ll find that murderer, Teddy,” she promised him over and over, wandering from room to empty room, traces of him lurking in every corner. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served. Another past life regression isn’t enough anymore. I know what I have to do now. And I promise, it will never, ever happen again—in any future life.”

She inhaled deeply and breathed him in. “Go take a shower, Teddy.” She chuckled through her tears as the doorbell rang. She cringed, breaking out in cold sweat when she saw the black sedan at the curb.

“Not again.” No sense in hiding, so she let the detectives in.

“Mrs. McKinley, we need your permission to do a search and take some of your husband’s possessions from the house,” Nolan said.

“What for?” She met his steely stare. “I looked everywhere and found nothing.”

“Mrs. McKinley, the cupboard door was open, four jars of herbs are missing, and the autopsy showed he died of herb poisoning. Those herbs,” Nolan added for emphasis, as if it had slipped her feeble mind. “Foxglove, mandrake, hemlock—and an as-yet unidentified one,” he read from a notebook. “The M.E. determined it was a lethal dose.”

Sherlock Holmes got nothin’ on him, she thought.

“Where’s this cupboard, ma’am?” Egan spoke up.

“Right there.” She pointed, its door gaping exactly the way she’d found it that night. Nolan went over to it and peered inside.

“Ma’am, it would be better if you left the house for a half hour or so. Please leave a number where you can be reached,” Egan ordered.

Nolan glanced down the hall. “Where is your bedroom?”

What could they want in the bedroom? “It’s at the top of the stairs on the right. But we didn’t sleep together,” she offered, as if that would faze them. It didn’t.

After giving him her cell number, she got into her car and drove to the beach.

An hour later, she let herself back in and looked around. They’d taken the computer, her case of CDs, her thumb drive, her remaining herb jars, Ted’s notebooks, and left her alone with one horrible fact: This was now a homicide case and she was the prime suspect.

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Marriage, Mobsters, and the Marine #EggcerptExchange @KryssieFortune

#eggcerptexchange buttonToday’s #EggcerptExchange is Kryssie Fortune’s erotic romance, Marriage, Mobsters, and the Marine.

When writing my book, Marriage, Mobsters and the Marine, I learned so much about the wonderful men and women who make up the Unites States Marine Corps. The more I learned, the more my respect for them grew.

I was so glad I made Jared Armstrong a Marine. The first chapter of Marriage, Mobsters and the Marine can be read on my website. Also, if you want to know more about Jared, there are a couple of short, free reads about him on my website.

http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Marriage Mobsters and the MarineBlurb:

Abigail Montgomery, a small-town schoolteacher with zero self-confidence, dreams of the Dickensian Christmas her family never enjoyed. Each month she attends a masked BDSM club, but her next visit will be her last. If she doesn’t marry within the next year, her brother won’t inherit Montgomery Hall. Desperate, she advertises for a husband.

Jared Armstrong, a former Marine sharpshooter and occasional Dom, needs $125,000 to get his family out of a hole. His solution–to marry Abigail Montgomery for her money. His only regret is his wife won’t accept his spanking lifestyle.

Soon, Abigail dreams of making their marriage real, but she promised Jared a divorce two years after their wedding. Can they share some Christmas magic as their relationship faces extortion threats, a kidnapping, and an attempted murder? Or will Jared walk away and break her heart?

Buy Links: Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, Nook, and Loose Id.

Excerpt:

The engine stopped, and she heard a car door slam. She needed out of the trunk, but no one came for her. What if they abandon the car and leave me? I don’t want to die trussed up in a car trunk. A fresh wave of fear washed through her, along with a spike of adrenaline. Her body trembled, but time slowed and her thoughts cleared. She needed to take things one step at a time.

Step one—get her arms free. She wriggled around, hoping the rough ride had dislodged something she could use to cut the rope. Bingo. Her fingers touched a metal box. Maybe it held tools or a knife. She almost wept when she couldn’t open it. The hinge stuck out from the box, so she twisted some more, running the rope against the hinge. Periodically, she stopped and tensed her wrists in an attempt to pull the nylon strands apart.

She’d no idea how long she worked at her bonds. It seemed like hours until the rope finally gave way. Relieved tears filled her eyes. Rather than rub her wrists, she tugged off the hood and pulled the gag from her mouth. She’d never been so thirsty. She’d give anything for a cold beer right now.

Step two—find the release mechanism the law said every car should have in the trunk. She felt claustrophobic, so scared she could barely move, but she forced herself to concentrate. There, in the corner, a glow-in-the-dark lever beckoned. Wriggling like a maggot in a fisherman’s box, she kicked it for all she was worth, and the trunk lid popped open.

The air smelled wonderful, if slightly musty, but silence and utter darkness surrounded her. She listened a while, decided her captors had left, and slipped out the trunk. No lights shone through the darkness. Using her hands rather than her eyes, she found a lug wrench and flashlight alongside the spare tire beneath the space she’d just escaped. She grabbed both, quietly shut the trunk, and headed into the darkness.

Kryssie Fortune Social Media:

Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie
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