Thursday, August 7, 2014

NEW SIGN UP: Tortured Souls by Kimber Leigh Wheaton + GIVEAWAY {MASS AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT}

This promotion will be on September 25th.

Sometimes Rest in Peace isn't an option.
Kacie Ramsey sees ghosts—and it's ruining her life. Her mother left, her father blames her, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't keep the ghosts away. Now a new power has emerged. Nightly visions of grisly murders and a relentless predator draw her to the brink of insanity.
When the phantom appears at a party, Kacie's longtime crush, Logan, saves her. He invites her to join the Orion Circle, a group of supernatural hunters with chapters in schools all over the country. Through the Circle, Kacie learns to embrace her spiritual powers, and for the first time in her life she feels in control rather than a victim.
But the Foxblood Demon will not give up so easily. A demented serial killer in life who trapped the souls of the thirteen children he murdered, imprisoning them within the walls of his mansion. Now in death, he plots his return while drawing power from the pure souls of the children. He recognizes something in Kacie he's never seen before—a medium powerful enough to provide a vessel for his tainted soul.
Kacie can't ignore the tortured souls of the children crying out to her every night. With Logan at her side, she will fight the Foxblood Demon. But can they banish this powerful phantom, or will Kacie lose not only her body, but her eternal soul to the monster. 

Kimber Leigh Wheaton is a bestselling YA/NA author with a soft spot for sweet romance. She is married to her soul mate, has a teenage son, and shares her home with three dogs, four cats, and lots of dragons. No, she doesn’t live on a farm, she just loves animals. Kimber Leigh is addicted to romance, videogames, superheroes, villains, and chocolate—not necessarily in that order. (If she has to choose, she’ll take a chocolate covered superhero!) She currently lives in San Antonio, TX but has been somewhat a rolling stone in life, having resided in several different cities and states.
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Deafening music shakes the walls, vibrates the floor, and pounds a rhythmic beat in my skull. Gyrating bodies turn every bit of space into a dance floor. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my heart races. Strobe lights flash, teens dance with wild abandon. Shrieking laughter bubbles around me.
“Gotta take a leak!” my dance partner shouts over the music.
He races off, weaving through the thick wall of bodies. Mike or Mick or something—I didn’t catch the name he yelled when he asked me to dance. Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t my type at all. I mean, the guy guzzled beer while dancing. After grabbing a diet soda from a nearby cooler, I’m about to search for my friends when a dark feeling washes over me. My feet refuse to move, and I stand rooted in place.
The once loud music is now hollow in my ears. I gasp for breath, choking on the lack of air around me. Tiny hairs on the nape of my neck rise to attention. Something wicked is behind me. I know I’m the only one here who feels a difference in air pressure. An oppressive weight presses against my skin, making me feel as though I’m underwater. I blink a few times, watching the people around me continue their manic dancing—oblivious to the bogeyman that just entered the room.
Afraid to turn around, I stand my ground, sipping my soda. I pretend I’m unaware of the shuffling noises behind me, sounds I shouldn’t be able to hear over the blaring music. Swaying my hips, I hum along with the music, trying to ignore the ominous presence crushing me.
Whatever it is, I can’t let it know I sense it. Evil pours off it in waves, blanketing the entire room. I close my eyes, willing the creature to go away, return to whatever mausoleum or grave it calls home. Malevolent spirits feed on fear. I must control mine at all costs.
When I open my eyes, I’m gazing into the face of an angel. Not literally, but he may as well be in my book. Logan glances behind me, and I know he sees the spirit. He doesn’t gasp or scream or faint dead away. His golden eyes narrow as though he’s in a staring contest with the specter.
“You’re not welcome here,” Logan says to the presence behind me. He meets my gaze again. “You know it’s there.”
It’s not a question but a statement. I nod, a weak bob of my head, unsure whether this intimate moment with my dream guy is a good thing or not. Meeting over a nasty phantom is not my idea of romantic. And yet I can’t stop staring at the way his blue t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders and chest—how his light brown hair curls around his earlobes. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. For six weeks I’ve wanted out of the friendship box with Logan, but I was hoping for girlfriend, not crazy girl.
“Kassandra,” a voice rasps behind me.


“Are you ready?” Logan asks in a soft murmur.
Closing my locker, I nod and smile at him, trying to hide my anxiety. Why did I agree to go to this club meeting? What if they sacrifice goats to some pagan god or something? Laughter wells up within at the absurd image of an animal sacrifice occurring on the third floor of the Sciences building. Besides, it couldn’t be a goat—it would have to be a cat or a fetal pig since that’s what the AP biology class is dissecting this year. I guess it could be a crawfish or an earthworm since the regular biology classes dissect those.
My laughter finally bubbles out when I picture figures in black robes sacrificing an earthworm to their pagan god. I feel Logan’s eyes on me. When I glance at him, he has a strange, indecipherable look on his face.
“Are you alright?” he asks, concern clouding his features.
“Yeah, just a little nervous,” I reply, fighting another blush that threatens to form.
He walks down the hall, navigating through the maze of students, checking back every so often to make sure I’m still following. When we pass through the doors leading out into the damp autumn air, he surprises me by heading over to a bench rather than continuing to the Sciences building.
He sits down and motions for me to join him, so I lower myself to the gray stone bench. The stone soaked up the chilled rain today, and the cold passes through my jeans up into my body. I’ve always enjoyed cool weather, probably a tribute to my Norse ancestry. Though I shiver a bit, I feel exhilarated as a slight breeze ruffles my hair, making it dance around my head.
“I’m gonna break the rules and give you a heads up about us,” Logan says in a very low voice.
My eyes fly to his in surprise. He moves closer to me on the bench so our legs are touching.
“We are a paranormal research group. Hunters you might say, hence the name Orion. I know you’re already aware there’s more out there than meets the eye, but you’ll be surprised by just how much more there really is.”
He’s speaking in a very low voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard. I use this as an excuse to lean a little closer to him.
“So you investigate hauntings?” I murmur, intrigued by the idea.
“Not just hauntings, anything supernatural,” he replies. I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. “I can’t go into more detail until you’re a member. But don’t worry, Kacie. I’ll be right beside you today, and by tonight you’ll be a member, then we can talk.”
He stands and extends his hand to me. Taking his hand, I allow him to pull me from the bench. There’s no spark or jolt this time, just pleasant warmth that permeates me.
“It appears our powers are adjusting to each other,” he comments, a smile lighting his face.


“Careful, the stone walkway is a bit uneven,” he says, taking my hand. “It’s easy to navigate during the day, but without light…” he trails off as we walk farther from the lights of the building.
The path ends, and we hike across a grassy expanse leading to the River Walk. Light from the nearby building filters through the leaves above us creating a speckled pattern on the shadowed grass. Roots from the large oak trees have broken through the ground, almost impossible to see in the darkness. When I trip over one my face flushes, and I mutter a curse at my clumsiness. Logan chuckles before righting me so we can continue. Within seconds he trips over another root from the same tree. We both stumble a few steps then break out in laughter.
“You don’t think the tree is out to get us do you?” he asks as he glares up at it.
I giggle when he kicks the root with his hiking boot. He moves closer until he’s inches from my face, close enough that I can see his eyes in the faint light under the tree.
“We’re almost to the retaining wall. I didn’t consider homicidal tree roots when I chose to walk this way. Sorry.”
“I love the trees,” I comment. He takes my hand leading me through the old tree’s maze of roots. “I’m glad these businesses didn’t just tear down the old oak trees. How old do you think this one is?” I ask, running my hand along the rough trunk.
“No idea,” he says, stopping to gaze up at the tree. “I bet it’s been witness to a lot through the years.”
As we continue the hike to the river, he puts his arm around my shoulders, and I snuggle against his side. At the bottom of the grassy hill a four foot retaining wall keeps the earth from slipping onto the path running along the river. Logan jumps down then holds his arms up to me, grabbing me around the waist to help me down the wall. My arms fly around his neck as I jump down, and I end up in his arms pressed against his firm chest. As he lowers my feet to the ground, I breathe in the scent of his leather jacket and spicy aftershave. Once I’m back on the ground, I expect him to release me, but his arms stay wrapped around my body holding me against him.
My face is still buried in his shoulder, and I lift my chin to glance at him. He grins at me, a cute half-smile, while his eyes sparkle in the golden light from a nearby lantern. I focus on his lips as he closes the distance between us.
His lips meet mine—soft and warm, the kiss achingly tender. My eyes flutter closed and my hand moves up to those curls I’ve been dying to touch. He releases a soft sigh as my fingers caress the nape of his neck and tips his head to deepen the kiss. My lips part under the gentle pressure of his tongue, granting him entrance.
His hand moves from my back to my neck, and he buries his fingers in my hair. I let out a breathy moan, completely lost to the sensations. He uses my hair to tip my head back then trails searing kisses down my chin to my neck.

When he pulls his lips away from my neck, he continues to hold me in his arms for several moments while gazing into my eyes. My lips tingle, and I cling to his arms, feeling a bit lightheaded. After a few silent moments, he takes my hand, and we stroll along the river. I feel like I’m floating while my mind replays our first kiss over and over. No matter how I look at it, the kiss was perfect in every way.

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