Saturday, July 16, 2016
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
About the book
Graphic artist Trinity Hargrove never knew real passion until she sleeps with her boss’s son. Mistake number one. Mistake number two…liking it too much. But they agreed to only one night. Simple enough, right? Wrong. He may be out of her bed, but their intense night together still burns in her memories. As long as she keeps her distance from the oh-so-desirable Xander Duval, everything will be okay. Unfortunately, fate won’t go along with her plan.
Restaurateur Xander Duval agrees to Trinity’s “one night” stipulation, but only in theory. He has no intentions of not being with her again. Especially when his mind—nor body—will allow him to forget the fire that blazed between them until the wee hours of the morning. When Trinity is injured in an automobile accident, he jumps at the opportunity to be her arms and legs. He plans to show her just how determined he is to make her his…for far longer than just one night.
Loved, Loved this book. Sometimes it's hard to trust again after being hurt. In this story you showed how to slowly put your guard now. She also helped me remember what grandma said growing up, "be careful because that best friend can turn into your worse enemy". When's the next book coming I have read all your books and loved them all.
By Sophia Stephens on June 20, 2016
YES!! I have read ALL of Ms. Avery's book and this will be at the very, very top! I laughed, I related and I cried and I almost went and got my Vaseline and put my hair in a ponytail!!
I am a huge fan of Ms. Avery. I loved the chemistry between Trinity and Xander and the fact that they both had issues. Xander is the man. He was there for Trinity from the very beginning. Helping to heal her heart. Love him!! Great job!
By day, Joy Avery works as a customer service assistant. By night, the North Carolina native travels
About the author
Since she was a young girl growing up in Garner, Joy knew she wanted to write. Stumbling onto romance novels, she discovered her passion for love stories; instantly, she knew these were the type stories she wanted to pen.
Real characters. Real journeys. Real good love is what you’ll find in a Joy Avery romance.
Joy is married with one child. When not writing, she enjoys reading, cake decorating, pretending to expertly play the piano, driving her husband insane, and playing with her two dogs.
Joy is a member of Romance Writers of America and Heart of Carolina Romance Writers.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
What does crazy look like? Let Deborah tell it, it's the reflection that looks back at her in the mirror. She has a career she loves, two beautiful children and a handsome and successful husband. Her life seems to be the blueprint almost every woman she knows would kill to live. But working full-time, being a full-time mother, full-time wife and a full-time Sunday only Christian seems to be taking its toll on her. With all the scheming and shenanigans Deborah orchestrated to get this lifestyle, she might have to come up with a whole set of new ones to maintain it.
Lynox is Deborah's husband who she thanks God for putting back into her life after a game of cat and mouse that defies the laws of romance. He feels that all Deborah needs is to let her hair down, maybe make some new friends and live a little. When Deborah agrees and then suspects Lynox of having an affair with the woman that he suggested she form a friendship with, will he live to regret his own advice?
About the Author
Joylynn M. Ross now writing as
BLESSEDselling Author E.N. Joy (Everybody Needs Joy)
BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy is the author behind the “New Day Divas,” “Still Divas,” “Always Divas” and “Forever Divas" series, all which have been coined “Soap Operas in Print.” She is an Essence Magazine Bestselling Author who wrote secular books under the names Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY. Her title, If I Ruled the World, earned her a book blurb from Grammy Award Winning Artist, Erykah Badu. An All Night Man, an anthology she penned with New York Times Bestselling Author Brenda Jackson, earned the Borders bestselling African American romance award. Her Urban Fiction title, Dollar Bill (Triple Crown Publications), appeared in Newsweek and has been translated to Japanese.
After thirteen years of being a paralegal in the insurance industry, E. N. Joy divorced her career and married her mistress and her passion; writing. In 2000, she formed her own publishing company where she published her books until landing a book deal with St. Martin's Press. This award winning author has been sharing her literary expertise on conference panels in her home town of Columbus, Ohio as well as cities across the country. She also conducts publishing/writing workshops for aspiring writers.
Her children’s book titled The Secret Olivia Told Me, written under the name N. Joy, received a Coretta Scott King Honor from the American Library Association. The book was also acquired by Scholastic Books and has sold almost 100,000 copies. Elementary and middle school children have fallen in love with reading and creative writing as a result of the readings and workshops E. N. Joy instructs in schools nationwide.
In addition, she is the artistic developer for a young girl group named DJHK Gurls. She pens original songs, drama skits and monologues for the group that deal with messages that affect today’s youth, such as bullying.
After being the first content development editor for Triple Crown Publications and ten years as the acquisitions editor for Carl Weber's Urban Christian imprint, E. N. Joy now does freelance editing, ghostwriting, write-behinds and literary consulting. Her clients have included New York Times Bestselling authors, entertainers, aspiring authors, as well as first-time authors. Some notable literary consulting clients include actor Christian Keyes, singer Olivia Longott and Reality Television star Shereé M. Whitfield.
You can visit BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy at www.enjoywrites.com or email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Druid's Brooch Series, #2
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
Release Date: July 6, 2016
Set in late 18th century Ireland, Esme must grow up quickly in small, isolated northwestern town. Her parents are leaving for America, abandoning her and her sister to fend for themselves. As she struggles to find her place, she finds it difficult to keep hold of what's left that's precious to her.
Once married and in a new town, Esme's only friend, Aisling, helps her through difficult times, as her Traveler husband stays away longer and longer plying his trade.
While Esme has had some comfort in her small family, she must now find comfort on her own, as her treacherous sister tries stealing the family heirloom to sell, a brooch reputed to have mystical powers, which had been left to her by her grandfather. Esme must learn to cope with her dwindling family and growing despair in order to keep the brooch safe.
Other Books in the Druid's Brooch Series:
Ardara, County Donegal, Ireland
Éamonn Doherty eased onto the old rocking chair beside the crackling fire. As soon as he settled, he was bombarded with children, clamoring eagerly for a story from Grandfa.
Well, it was his fault. Whenever he returned from his wanderings around the country, he would give them a story, a tale of Ireland’s past or his own.
The bairns settled onto the ground at his feet. There were Esme and Eithne, the twins, looking stark and thin with shocks of wild red hair and too many freckles to count.
“That's my spot! I always sit there, Eithne, and you know it!”
Eithne looked at her sister and sniffed, saying nothing. She turned to Éamonn and blinked as if innocent.
Esme pushed at her sister, but Eithne was braced for it. She resisted the shove and looked back over her shoulder with disdain.
Fuming, Esme crossed her arms.
In the far corner, with her arms wrapped firmly around her knees, sat the youngest sister, wee Brighid. Everyone called her Bridey. Her solemn green eyes peered at him, owl-like. She must be about ten years old by now. And little Níaṁ wasn’t a sister, but a cousin, her parents having died of a fever. A brown wren, she was plump and sweet, still a toddler.
Éamonn would have preferred some grandsons to pass his stories to, but his son and daughter-in-law, Brian and Shona, had given him only granddaughters thus far. Still, he loved them dearly. His two other children were both dedicated to the church, so Brian was his last hope for grandsons. Éamonn looked at the girls and decided perhaps a story of a manly hero might do them for the night.
He fixed his eyes on wee Níaṁ until she giggled nervously. He tousled up his thick white hair until it looked like a lion and she laughed. Smiling, he began.
“Tonight our tale will begin with a hero of great fame, for who has never heard of Fionn Mac Cumhaill, leader of the Fianna, Warriors of Ireland?”
Timidly, Bridey raised her hand.
Interrupted, Éamonn cocked his head. “Yes, child? What is it, my dear?”
“I haven’t heard of him, Grandfa.”
Éamonn closed his eyes, reaching for patience. The children weren’t to know what a rhetorical question was.
“That’s all right, mo chuisle. I will be telling you now, so?”
The girl nodded and wrapped her hands more tightly around her knees until she was just a pair of feet, arms and a curly mass of red hair sparkling in the firelight. For a moment, Éamonn went back in time, to the memory of his dear, long-dead wife, Katie. She had hair such as that, wild and bright. The windows rattled as the wind outside picked up. The children all shifted uncomfortably.
“The Fianna were a band of warriors, pledged to protect the shores of Ireland from foreigners. Fionn’s father was the leader of the Fianna, so he had his son raised by a warrior woman. Have you ever seen a warrior woman, Eithne?”
“I have!” The girl was the boldest of the lot. “There is a woman who hunts up in Bunbeg. I heard Alan say she came into his dad’s bakery one day!”
“I heard that first! He told me first.” Esme said.
“Girls, that’s enough. Would you like to know about this warrior woman?”
It did the trick. All four children looked up at him, expectant.
He grinned and got back into the rhythm of his tale.
“This great woman was called Liath Luachra, and she was tall, with long muscles and longer hair. Her brown hair she kept in thin braids, which went all the way down to her knees. She was a fierce warrior, always clad in skins and furs, and she taught Fionn all her arts. When he had learned all he could from her, he left to join the Fianna.
“But the Fianna knew him for his father’s son and worried for his youth and safety. They told him he must leave, and they could not protect him from harm. This angered Fionn, so he left in a temper. After his temper had cooled, he sought out a Druid to learn wisdom. The Druid he found was named Finnegas. Finnegas spent seven years trying to catch the Salmon of Knowledge, and he had just caught the fish before Fionn found him. It roasted on the fire, and Finnegas told Fionn to watch it while he got more firewood.
“Fionn watched the fish, watched it bubble and pop, sizzle and squeak.”
Níaṁ let out a squeak of her own to help with the sound effects.
“He saw a great blister form on the skin of the salmon, growing larger and larger, about to pop. He pressed his thumb to it to push it back down so the skin wouldn’t be blemished. As he did so, his skin burned, so he stuck his thumb in his mouth.” Éamonn demonstrated with his finger and looked around until each child did the same.
“But he had done a terrible thing, now.”
“What was so horrible, Grandfa?” Bridey asked with wide eyes. “All he did was touch the fish!” She replaced the thumb in her mouth absent-mindedly.
“Ah, that is true. But, you see, Fionn was the first to taste of the flesh of the Salmon of Knowledge, and it meant he now had all the Salmon’s great wisdom. Finnegas was furious and chased him out with a club, but Fionn now had the knowledge and wisdom he needed to lead the Fianna fairly.”
All the girls watched him for the end of the tale.
“In the end, he controlled his own fate, and therefore could make himself happy. That's all that any one of us can do, aye?”
When Níaṁ realized the tale was over, she belatedly removed her thumbs from her mouth. As she did, he picked her up into his lap and rocked in front of the fire with her. She was a solid, warm little child. Brian might not be able to make his farm work well, but he at least kept his children fed.
He sang a sad, low song of lost love and broken promises until each child fell asleep on the soft, white wings of fantasy.