Author tired of promo promo promo - so here's a fun read #funread

 

Police Report

After one cup of

Beer that had been

Calmly

Doctored by Dexter Devilish

Efficiency and

Forensically untraceable.

Gavin Gullible

Happily and

Innocently

Joked that Dexter wanted to

Kill him.

Laughing

Merrily

Naive Gavin

Offered to drink the beverage. Dexter smiled

Pleasantly.

Queasily – Gavin gulped it.

Regretfully, he died. Dead.

Suspicion pointed directly at the man…

Thought to have killed Gavin

Until

Verification came by

Wireless

Xyrem found in blood. Lethal dosage. Suspect innocent.

Yowls of frustration rang out

"Zut Alors." The detective wailed. "We'll get him next time."

 

  What's happening in December on Romance – Sweet to Heat

19 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

20 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

21 – SPOTLIGHT –

22 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

23 – Daryl’s Thoughts and Motivational Things #motivation

24 – Closed for Christmas

25 – Closed for Christmas

26 – Closed for Christmas

27 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

28 – SPOTLIGHT – 

29 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

30 – Flashette – free read

31 – Closed for New Years

 

Follow Me on Twitter

Sign up for my every other month newsletter 

 

 

My Books. My Blog. My Post. A quick read post for your reading enjoyment. No Promo. Just a cute read.

 

The Gods were angry. Lightning ripped across the sky. Thunder shook the earth.

Thais rolled the sacred, white stone in her hand, pondering what to do to appease them. She did not wish to perform another sacrifice – beautiful, young, virgins were becoming scarce.

In days of old, it was an honour to be slain for the good of all. But the maidens of today… she shook her head. Their parents spoilt them.

No proper upbringing. The girls ran with the soldiers when they should be kneeling before the altar chanting prayers. The soldiers wasting their time with the sins of pleasure, when they should be training for war.

The young citizens worshipped a false goddess who preached ecstasy and gratification while eschewing drudgery or responsibility.

Their parents moaned about the wine merchants bills that regularly needed paying. Others complained about the late-night chariot races through the streets, disturbing the slumber of respectable citizens.

The stone slipped from Thais’s hand and landed with a sharp thunk on her foot. Picking it up, she pressed it into her palm, placed her hands together and blew on it. Maybe the heat of her breath would awaken the stone and provide her with an answer. It was her responsibility to protect the people from the angers of the gods. What they would do to her, if she failed.

Again.

She opened her hands, cupping the stone in one palm. No answer came to her. Was the rock empty? Had she used up all of its sacredness? How could it abandon her like this?

A gust of wind rattled her robe. She shivered from the chill. Another crack of thunder. Would the sky open and cry down a flood? The last had killed many. Ruined crops. Drowned livestock. Destroyed homes. The villagers had been angry with her. They said she had failed as the High Priestess. Why should they provide her food and drink if she could not protect them?

She calmed them with the hope that the white rock would speak to the gods and protect them. Now it lay in her hand – silent.

Thais sighed. Maybe it was time to move on to another village. To new people ignorant of reality and willing to believe the lies she spoke. She had been here many seasons. Maybe, too many.

Content with her decision, she tossed the sacred stone on the ground then walked up the path to her home.

One lone bolt of lightning flashed downwards. Thais was never heard of again. 

 

 What's happening in December on Romance – Sweet to Heat

18 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

19 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

20 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

21 – SPOTLIGHT –

22 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

23 – Daryl’s Thoughts and Motivational Things #motivation

24 – Closed for Christmas

25 – Closed for Christmas

26 – Closed for Christmas

27 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

28 – SPOTLIGHT – 

29 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

30 – Flashette – free read

31 – Closed for New Years

 

 

Follow Me on Twitter

 

Sign up for my every other month newsletter 

 

 

On Backlist Saturday Spotlight - Three hot romances in one book bundle - Daryl Devore's Love a Billionaire Collection #hot #contemporary #billionaire #collection

Excerpt - 

The din of the music in the bar dulled as she closed the door dividing the bar from the back dressing room. Flame smiled at the other dancers as she made her way through a mess of makeup tables and garment racks. Being a quieter night at the club, most of the tables were empty. Four other performers tucked themselves into tight leather costumes, strapping on ridiculously high heels or applying finishing touches to their makeup.

She plopped onto her chair, stretched her right leg up, and rested her ankle on the edge of her makeup table.

"Big crowd?" Cotton Candy, the wild-haired, blonde stripper sitting at the makeup table next to her, raised an eyebrow.

Flame unbuckled the strap on her silver six-inch stiletto and let it drop to the floor. She massaged her arch, then her toes, and snorted. "Thursday night? In East Millburg? During the playoffs? Maybe fifteen guys. Tops."

"More importantly," Fantasia peeked over the top of the mirror, "what shirt was Baseball Cap Guy wearin'?"

Flame lowered her right foot and lifted her left leg before unbuckling her other shoe. "His white Harley Davidson one."

Dressed in her white leather nurse outfit, Fantasia pulled an envelope off the message board and opened it. "And the winner is… damn. Flame, it's you again."

Flame reached out her hand for the prize money. "Ten dollars? Wow. A whole lot closer to that yacht I'm gonna buy."

Cotton Candy giggled. "When you do get your yacht, where are you gonna go? And can I come?"

Flame closed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. The fantasy of getting out of the club and getting away from the life was a dream each girl held. They spent way too many nights getting drunk and telling lies of what they'd do when they told Ass Wipe, Frankie, their boss, what he could do with his club. But the pay was acceptable, and it was a job. With so much depending on the money earned each night, leaving was hard.

She popped her eyes open and placed her hand on Cotton Candy's knee. "I'm gonna take that yacht down into the warm Caribbean and tie it up near some deserted island. And yes, you can come. 'Cause I'm going to need help keeping my all-male crew in line. A girl does need her beauty sleep."

"Cotton Candy, you're on!" The boss's voice boomed over the noise.

She stood. "If only it would happen."

"Someday it will." Flame patted Cotton Candy's butt cheek as she passed by. "Now you go out there and make creepy old Baseball Cap Guy cream his jeans. He had a raging hard-on when I left."

Flame tucked nine dollars into her purse, dropped it into the bottom right drawer of her makeup table, and then crossed the room. She pulled open the community refrigerator, grabbed a cold Diet Coke, and placed a dollar in the jar on the counter. She clicked the tab, listening to the hiss as the pressure released. If only the pressures and stresses of her life would dissipate so easily. She checked the wall clock. With the small number of performers at the club that night, she had a good fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes before she had to perform again.

The pop bubbles fizzed down her throat as she gulped a couple of mouthfuls. She glanced in the mirror to check her makeup. Her gaze caught sight of the edge of the envelope sticking out of her purse. A tremble shuddered through her. She didn't need to read the letter. She'd read it enough times before arriving at the club. Rent was increasing. Three hundred more a month. She couldn't afford that. She was barely to afford the rent as it stood now. Could she fight the increase? She could try every means affordable, but her salary was limited and obviously, the real estate corporation's pockets were much deeper.

"Ahh!" A crash and a sharp cry brought her back to the present.

Flame scooted around the corner of her table. Jade was sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle. One eight-inch heel was lying on the floor next to her. Passion Fruit and Desiree crowded nearby. "What happened?" both asked in unison.

Jade slapped at the broken heel. "Damn shoe broke. Shit! I just got these."

"Can you stand?" Flame held out her hand. Jade grabbed it and started to rise, but then collapsed back to the floor with a flurry of swear words.

The club boss, Frankie, pushed his way through the crowd. "What the hell's going on here? Better not be another bitch fight." He stood, feet spread, hands on hips, glaring at the fallen performer.

Jade flipped her long black hair over her head. "I hurt my ankle. My shoe broke." She waved at the evidence.

"Can you still dance?"

Flame rolled her eyes. That was classic Frankie, compassionate son of a bitch. He dressed like he hadn't bought a new piece of clothing since the eighties, and he usually smelled of body odour, stale beer, and cigar smoke.

Jade rubbed her ankle and groaned. "I don't think so."

Frankie snapped his gaze at the other performers. "Passion Fruit, you're on next. Flame. After her."

"What?" She aimed her gaze at him. "I just got offstage."

"This is me caring." He curled his lip in a sneer. "You know the rules. Shut up and perform." He pointed at Jade. "And get her out of here. She's useless if she can't dance tonight." He strode out of the dressing room.

"Someday. Someday!" Passion Fruit's cheeks reddened as she clenched and unclenched her hands.

"And after you kill him, we'll all help hide the body." Flame patted her shoulder. 

Blurb and Buy Links

If you love hot, billionaire romances, then Daryl Devoré’s collection is a must read. Three of her hottest billionaire romances bundled into one smouldering collection.

Desires - When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes.

After a mistake by a surgeon’s scalpel shattered Fuchsia Quinn's dance career, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward.

Peyton Lang, having run from an impoverished neighbourhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire.

Frustrated that his current multi-million-dollar project is stalled, Peyton drops in to LEATHER-ICIOUS for a quick drink and late night entertainment. What he saw was a beautiful redhead. What he found was he wanted her.

Two O’clock with the Billionaire – Sometimes, a woman has to do what a woman has to do.

Where Derek Davenport is concerned, women only had one thing in mind: trap him into a marriage.

Unemployed and nearing financial desperation, Arianne is forced to step out of her comfort zone. With minimal hours and excellent pay, she accepts the position of courtesan to a handsome billionaire.

Their sexual antics cause emotions neither is willing to admit. Will Arianne and Derek drive each other crazy…or will they fall in love first?

Two Truths and Lie - The legend of Robin Hood and Maid Marian with a twenty-first-century twist.

As if multiple planes crashes, a car accident, and a concussion isn’t enough, carefree Byn and straight-laced billionaire, Mark clash over Byn's need for independence and Mark's struggle with guilt pushing him in the opposite direction of love. When an art forger, an art thief and a ninety-year-old woman get involved the chance for true love for Byn and Mark fades.

All is lost until a children's game is their only hope.

 

Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MZ5H5QH

Print - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NF32CC4

 Books2Read – https://books2read.com/LoveABillionaireCollection

 Print – https://books2read.com/LoveABillionaireCollection-Print

 

 Book sprout – for read and review – https://booksprout.co/book/64122/love-a-billionaire-collection

 BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/books/love-a-billionaire-collection-by-daryl-devore

 Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.ca/daryldevore2013/love-a-billionaire-collection/

 Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55887306-love-a-billionaire-collection

 Review – copy request - https://storyoriginapp.com/reviewcopies/b30b4408-70d3-11eb-9703-9b686b29034c

 What's happening in December on Romance – Sweet to Heat

5 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

6 - #OpenBook Blog Hop

7 - SPOTLIGHT –

8 - Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

9 – Newsletter

10 – My Blog. My Post. My Books

11 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

12 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

13 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

14 – SteamHop -

15 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

16 – SPOTLIGHT – Amber Daulton - A Hero's Heart

17 – My Blog. My Post. My Books

18 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

19 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

20 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

21 – SPOTLIGHT –

22 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

23 – Daryl’s Thoughts and Motivational Things #motivation

24 – Closed for Christmas

25 – Closed for Christmas

26 – Closed for Christmas

27 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

28 – SPOTLIGHT – 

29 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

30 – Flashette – free read

31 – Closed for New Years

 

 Follow Me on Twitter

Sign up for my every other month newsletter 

 

 

My Books. My Blog. My Posts. Free read from Chapter 1 of Daryl Devore's recently released Christmas novella - Christmas Notes #sweet #Christmas #novella #shortread

 

Rock bottom is hard. And I'd smashed up against it. Bruised not only my pride but also my body. Guess that's what happens when you haven't eaten in a few days and pass out on the sidewalk in front of the largest department store witnessed by hundreds of Christmas shoppers. And all of them with cell phones recording another titillating moment in the biggest city in the country. Yeah, it just wasn't my day.

Tears stung my eyes as I shifted to my hands and knees while watching feet scurry past. I didn't look up. Didn't want to see their faces. The judgmental disdain and embarrassment etched into their frosty red cheeks. Their sanctimonious scorn of myself and the condition to which I'd sunk. Their chagrin from not being willing to help and of desperately trying to pretend I was invisible.

Icy droplets fell from the sky, settling on my neck. It wasn't quite snow but was no longer rain. And it was a raw cold right through to my core. I pushed up to standing, brushing away the frigid sleet from my arms and legs. I pressed my scraped palm against my hip to stop the bleeding, then checked my bag. It and its contents seemed all right. Yes, my existence has been reduced to having pretty much everything I own in a bag or two.

My life wasn't always like this. How I got here doesn't matter. Another sad sob story. A cruel twist of fate. A dream shattered. I could go on using a dozen more clichés, but I'm pretty sure you get the idea.

So again, I say, hitting rock bottom is hard. And, I might add, it sucks.

Three well-dressed ladies scooted past me, bundled in warm coats, scarves and high-heeled boots. Each holding a large takeout cup from the high-end coffee shop just up the block. Hazelnut. The smell tickled my nose. Probably a cappuccino. My stomach rumbled. My head swayed. I inhaled a deep breath and steadied myself.

A police officer strode toward me. His brow creased. Was he worried about my collapsing on the sidewalk? Or was he concerned for the Christmas shoppers, having their joyous holiday spending frenzy interrupted by the pitiful sight of me?

Turns out it was my second guess. He held my elbow and directed me to move along as he steered me toward a side street. I protested, saying—or rather, lying—that I'd slipped and fallen. But after a quick scan of my unkempt appearance, I knew that he knew I wasn't being totally honest.

He pointed down the side street, Prospect Avenue, and told me about a soup kitchen that was a couple of blocks up behind a large stone church. He smiled, rubbed his stomach, then told me the aroma had been very tempting when he passed by earlier in his shift.

I offered up a grateful smile and hobbled on partially frozen feet in the direction of my first meal in two days. I walked along dreaming about hot chicken noodle soup. Warm broth slipping over my tongue and down into the cavern that was my stomach. Floppy noodles trying to slip off my spoon, but with a quick slurp, I'd catch them all.

Little round green peas nestled in a spoon next to a piece of actual, honest to goodness chicken. The thought of the aroma made me lick my dry, chapped lips in anticipation. Or maybe it would be beef vegetable. A dark, rich broth filled with colourful vegetables. My stomach was torn between protesting its emptiness and celebrating the future meal.

Have I mentioned that fate's a bitch? As I neared the church, the fantasy aroma of soup morphed into the stench of charred wood and acrid smoke. I passed the church and stumbled to a stop. The soup kitchen had burned to the ground. Twenty or so people stood around, either hugging each other or staring numbly at the destruction.

Always trying to look for a silver lining, I edged closer to the ruins, hoping to absorb a bit of radiated heat. A firefighter gently cut me off and directed me back to the sidewalk. I wandered to a couple of different locations, but each time a firefighter was there, just as efficient at protecting the general public. Sometimes I despise efficiency.

I heaved a reluctant sigh. Lunch was gone. And no hope of one tomorrow. I turned to my right, then reversed to my left. Blinking, I rubbed my forehead. Every street looked exactly the same—big, red brick homes with Christmas decorations. I had no idea where I was and when I tried to find the street I’d just walked down; it was like it had disappeared into another dimension.

Does hunger cause hallucinations? I'll have to do a search on that once I have money… and a smart phone… and a chocolate éclair in my hand with one waiting on a gold-rimmed plate. I stumbled, but caught myself. I really must try to stay here—in this reality. Where had that street gone? Prosperous Street. Or was it Proposal Road? I'd only lived in the city for a few months and still had a lot to learn about the roads, boroughs and subway lines.

I shuffled along the residential block past two-storey houses trimmed with Christmas wreaths, smiling Santas and strings of Christmas lights. I could imagine them sparkling against the darkness of the night as the ones had at the house where I grew up.

Memories of warm, loving Christmases tried to surge forward. I crushed them with a runny nose sniff, then swiped my sleeve across my upper lip.

At the corner, I turned to the right. With the church behind me, I had to be heading in the correct direction. The soul-uplifting sound of a Christmas carol floated out through an open door just a few feet away. It was a massive gray brick building. I didn't recognize it, but then this was probably the back or side entrance. A man—in his late-twenties, so about my age—stepped outside and inhaled and released a big breath.

He was tall, dressed in a faded pair of jeans, sneakers and a wonderfully warm looking, red, down-filled coat. Yes, jealousy surged in me as I pulled my thin denim fall jacket closer to me.

My feet edged me closer. It had to be my feet doing it on their own. My instinct was to turn and scurry off in any other direction, like a mouse avoiding a predator. But my feet dragged me closer to the music and the man.

He glanced to his left and smiled at me.

Blurb and Buy Links

 Can a slice of pizza and a flute erase the ravages of life and allow Giselle and Ethan to fall in love by Christmas?

Collapsing in front the biggest department store in the city on one of the busiest days of the holiday season was not how Giselle imagined her day. Cold and hungry, she trudged through her daily existence wondering if she'd ever find happiness again.

Teenagers. Ethan loved working with them and turning their raw musical talent into something beautiful and rewarding, but that didn't fill the black void in his soul.

Like fate, the songwriters' muse nudged Giselle and Ethan together. But can Giselle overcome her fears and can Ethan get past the darkness that surrounds him, so they can find love?

 

Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09L7954ST

Books2Read - https://books2read.com/u/3keqvO

NOTE – This book will only be available in ebook as it is too short to be put into print.

Bit of a brag - I hit this  ranking on Amazon. A success for me.

#574 in 45-Minute Romance Short Reads

#7,722 in Holiday Romance (Kindle Store)

#9,464 in Holiday Romance (Books)

 

 

 What's happening in December on Romance – Sweet to Heat

4 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

5 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

6 - #OpenBook Blog Hop

7 - SPOTLIGHT –

8 - Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

9 – Newsletter

10 – My Blog. My Post. My Books

11 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

12 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

13 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

14 – SteamHop -

15 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

16 – SPOTLIGHT – Amber Daulton - A Hero's Heart

17 – My Blog. My Post. My Books

18 – Backlist Saturday Spotlight –

19 – Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday

20 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

21 – SPOTLIGHT –

22 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

23 – Daryl’s Thoughts and Motivational Things #motivation

24 – Closed for Christmas

25 – Closed for Christmas

26 – Closed for Christmas

27 – #OpenBook Blog Hop

28 – SPOTLIGHT – 

29 – Book Hooks #MFRWhooks #MFRWAuthor

30 – Flashette – free read

31 – Closed for New Years

 

 

Follow Me on Twitter

 

Sign up for my every other month newsletter