Brightwater Series Book #1
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Last First Kiss
Brightwater Series Book #1
Brightwater Series Book #1
By: Lia Riley
Releasing June 23rd, 2015
New to Avon author Lia Riley makes a splash with her first sexy, hilarious book in the sizzling Brightwater series!
A kiss is just the beginning…
Pinterest Perfect. Or so Annie Carson’s life appears on her popular blog. Reality is... messier. Especially when it lands her back in one-cow town, Brightwater, California, and back in the path of the gorgeous six-foot-four reason she left. Sawyer Kane may fill out those wranglers, but she won’t be distracted from her task. Annie just needs the summer to spruce up and sell her family’s farm so she and her young son can start a new life in the big city. Simple, easy, perfect.
Sawyer has always regretted letting the first girl he loved slip away. He won’t make the same mistake twice, but can he convince beautiful, wary Annie to trust her heart again when she’s been given every reason not to? And as a single kiss turns to so much more, can Annie give up her idea of perfect for a forever that’s blissfully real.
ADD to Goodreads
Find the Goodreads Series
“So back to Sawyer,” Claire said as she entered the kitchen, her raised eyebrows vanishing beneath her thick bangs.
Annie sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Maybe stop fighting yourself on this. Bury the hatchet.”
“It sounds like you mean that as a gross metaphor.”
Claire spied the mini blueberry muffins cooling on the counter and crammed one into her mouth. “Oh man, that’s delicious, and yes, I do, but in a good way.”
“Gross and good are two vastly separate things.”
“It’s not like that.” At least we’re not mouth kissing. “He’s been helping out around here is all. Odd jobs. Fix-it-up stuff like repairing broken boards in the barn floor and the like.”
“Aw.” Claire crinkled her nose. “That’s adorable.”
“Have you thanked him properly? For all that hard manual labor?” More suggestive eyebrow waggling.
Annie propped a hand on her hip, hoping to appear the picture of moral outrage. “Hey, I’m not going to thank him by—”
“Whoa, whoa, don’t get your panties in a knot. All I’m suggesting is to fix him a plate of those delicious muffins and pay a friendly neighborly visit.”
“Trust me, food is the way to a man’s heart.”
“I’m not sure I want into his heart.”
“His pants then.”
Rafflecopter Giveaway ($25.00 Amazon or B&N eGift Card)
Link to Rafflecopter Page,
Lia Riley writes offbeat New Adult and Contemporary Adult romance. After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, she scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. She counts shooting vodka with a Ukranian mechanic in Antarctica, sipping yerba mate with gauchos in Chile and swilling XXXX with stationhands in Outback Australia among her accomplishments.
A British literature fanatic at heart, Lia considers Mr. Darcy and Edward Rochester as her fictional boyfriends. Her very patient husband doesn't mind. Much. When not torturing heroes (because c'mon, who doesn't love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about future books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile and schemes yet another trip. Right now, Icelandic hot springs and Scottish castles sound mighty fine.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
I have amazing news! DARK PARADISE is a Kindle Daily Deal for Science Fiction & Fantasy. It's pretty a pretty awesome feeling to see my novel featured. Check it out HERE. Or go directly to the AMAZON sales page if you want to get in on the $0.99 sales price.
It's also on sale at the other online retailers like iBOOKS, GOOGLE play, B&N, and at AMAZON Canada. So, please share the fabulous news with your friends. :)
Lately, I've been spending a lot of time promoting the series since DARK EMBRACE is coming out next month. I've never felt comfortable with promoting my novels (it gives me the heebie jeebies). I've never been the sort of person who likes to put herself out there. Most of my friends know, I'm pretty shy when I'm in a group. I'm the person who is quietly listening to everyone else's stories.
I can't do that now. Promo is a huge part of being published. As much as I'd like to hide in my writing cave, I have to get out of my comfort zone on occasion. Even worse, I have to say, *Hey, look at me. Check out my book*
I can't say that I excel at promoting my work. If I'm honest, I doggie paddle in circles more than swim, lol. But I do my best to spread the word about the Dark Paradise series, because I love it.
Okay, I'll shut up now. I guess I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. All of my insecurities were just regurgitated onto the page. It's been a while since I wrote a blog post. I'd forgotten how cathartic it can be.
So, let's move on to my latest fun project. A teaser pic! YAY! I love making teasers, and I'm getting better at it.
|This will be my new Facebook Page cover picture. I think I'll change out the one here too. It's time for a blog makeover.|
Monday, June 1, 2015
Mala's ghost busting tip #1: Never piss off a vengeful spirit or she may follow you home.
Black mud oozes between my toes as I shift the rope, sending up a cloud my weight and jerk on of midges and the rotten-egg stench of stagnant swamp water. The edge of the damn crawfish trap lifts out of the water—like it’s sticking its mesh tongue out at me—and refuses to tear loose from the twisted roots of the cypress tree. It’s the same fight each and every time, only now the frayed rope will snap if I pull on it any harder. I have to decide whether to abandon what amounts to two days’ worth of suppers crawling along the bottom of that trap or wade deeper into the bayou and stick my hand in the dark, underwater crevice to pry it free.
Gators eat fingers. A cold chill runs down my spine at the thought, and I shiver, rubbing my arms. I search the algae-coated surface for ripples. The stagnant water appears calm. I didn’t have a problem wading into the bayou to set the trap. I’ve trapped and hunted in this bayou my entire life. Sure it’s smart to pay attention to my instincts, doing so has saved my life more times than I can count, but this soul-sucking fear is ridiculous.
I take a deep breath and pat the sheathed fillet knife attached to my belt. My motto is: Eat or do the eating. I personally like the last part. A growling belly tends to make me take all kinds of stupid risks, but this isn’t one. If I’m careful, a gator will find my bite cuts deeper than teeth if it tries to make me into a four-course meal. Grandmère Cora tried to teach her daughter that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Since Mama would rather fuck ’em than feed ’em, I inherited all the LaCroix family recipes, including a killer gator gumbo.
Sick of second-guessing myself, I slog deeper into the waist-high water. Halfway to the trap, warm mud wraps around my right ankle. My foot sticks deep, devoured. I can’t catch my balance. Crud, I’m sinking.
Ripples undulate across the surface of the water, spreading in my direction. My breath catches, and I fumble for the knife. Those aren’t natural waves. Something’s beneath the surface. Something big. I jerk on my leg, panting. With each heave, I sink deeper, unable to ...break the suction holding me prisoner. Gator equals death…But I’m still alive. So what is it? Why hasn’t it attacked? A flash of white hits the corner of my eye—
Shit! I twist, waving the knife in front of me. My heart thuds. Sparkly lights fill my vision. Blinking rapidly, I shake my head. My mind shuts down. At first I can’t process what I’m seeing. It’s too awful. Too sickening. Then reality hits—hard. The scream explodes from my chest, and I fling myself backward. The mud releases my leg with a slurp. Brackish water smacks my face, pouring into my open mouth as I go under. Mud and decayed plants reduce visibility below the surface.
Wrinkled, outstretched fingers wave at me in the current. The tip of a ragged fingernail brushes across my cheek. It snags in my hair. I bat at the hand, but I can’t free my hair from the girl’s grip. She’s holding me under. Trying to drown me. I can’t lift my head above the surface. She won’t let me go!
My legs flail, kicking the girl in the chest. She floats. I sit up, choking. I can’t breathe and scream at the same time. I’m panting, but I concentrate. Breathe in. Out. In. The girl drifts within touching distance. Floating. Not swimming. Why doesn’t she move? Is it stupid to pray for some sign of life—the rise of her chest, a kick from her leg—when I already know the truth?
Want to read more? Click on the links to read the entire first chapter for free or grab a copy while it's on sale now.