Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Crimson Romance

Crimson Romance
For the best in romance, from sweet to naughty!

Friday, April 19, 2013

Author Interview: Tink's Place Would Like To Welcome Author Joanne Brothwell!!

Today on Tink's Place, I'd like to welcome author Joanne Brothwell!

She's the author of several lovely New Adult books, Stealing Breath and Silencing Breath both published with Crescent Moon Press, as well as her first self-published book and a fabulous retelling of Hansel & Gretel, Forest of the Forsaken: The Witch's Snare (I've had an opportunity to read this book and it's wonderful, enticing, an amazing journey for the senses (can you tell I liked it?)!! And only 99 cents on Amazon!! Worth every cent and an amazing deal!) Today, we'll going to talk about her newest release with Crescent Moon Press, Silencing Breath.

Welcome Joanne!

Thanks for being here today!

Thanks for having me :)
Why don't you start by telling my readers a little bit about yourself?

I live in the country on the Canadian Prairie with my husband, two kids, my retired police dog and a feral barn cat. When I’m not getting my car stuck in snow, shoveling snow, or picking weeds, I have my nose stuck in a book!

What drew you to the craft of writing? 

I have always been a creative person, but was never really able to express myself the way I could in writing. When I finally started, I realized being able to tell stories was my favorite pastime!

Do you write for the story burning to be told or do you write for a character that won't leave you alone?

For the story, for sure. The characters usually come later. And once they have formed, they definitely won’t shut up!

Are you a pantser or plotter?

Pantser. I don’t like to do anything twice. I find with plotting something out, when it comes time to write it I’m bored with the idea. Now that I’m writing it, my reason sounds so dumb!

When do you like to write? Mornings, Afternoons, Middle of the Night, or somewhere in between (like when the kids sleep)?

Anytime. I used to write in the mornings before anyone else was up, but lately I’ve been taking Fridays off from work and using that day to write. It is very lovely.

When you're not writing, do you have a favorite author or genre you enjoy?

I really love Cassandra Clare’s writing. Her prose is so poetic and descriptive. I really feel like I can see the world she paints. In terms of genre, I have grown tired of paranormal and am looking for something new. Perhaps science fiction.

What advice would you give to others in the journey to becoming published?

I think I would say to set realistic expectations. Don’t expect to be the next Amanda Hocking or E.L. James. You’d be better off trying to win the lottery.

If your book was going to be made into a movie, who would play your heroine? Hero? Bad guy?

I think Emma Watson would be a wonderful Sarah, because she comes off as so sweet and innocent. For the male lead, I am really liking Stephen Amell, who plays the Arrow. He is gorgeous, has the whole alpha male down, but still has a heart. Bad guy, Stefano would be played by Joseph Morgan. He doesn’t have the right hair color and has the wrong accent, but he just has the charisma of my evil older brother.

Where can we find you and your books?

Share with us something about your current book.

The Malandanti are far more prevalent in this second book than the first. You really get a peek into Stefano and Evan’s childhood, being raised by a Malandanti High Priest and Priestess.

Some fun stuff:

Coffee, Tea, or Something Harder?

I’m a die hard coffee addict. Take away my coffee and someone’s gonna hurt!

If you were stranded on a desert island... would you hope that Johnny Depp, Hugh Jackman, or Gerard Butler was stranded with you (if hubby/boyfriend decided to stay home while you cruised, for me, not likely, lol, but I'd have a hard time choosing...)?

Can I say no to all of them? I must be picky or something, because I’m not a fan of any of those guys. Right now, it would be Henry Cavill, the new Superman. He makes blue tights look manly!

Favorite all-time read? Movie? Favorite banned book?

Exit to Eden was a book written by Ann Rice, and when it was made into a movie it was banned in Saskatchewan, where I live. The movie was absolutely awful, but the book was hot. It was my first exposure to BDSM and I’ll certainly never forget it!

Favorite paranormal creature?

Skinwalker from my books!

If you were going to pick a book/movie character to become...who would it be?

I really would love to be Harry Potter. Wouldn’t it be cool to be “the boy who lived”?

It would be fabulous to step inside Harry Potter's life, the later years, not when he was living under the Drusley's staircase, but when he was a wizard of renown abilities, have to agree with you there! 

Secret desires?

New York Times bestseller.

Gee, me too!! *grin*

If you'd like to take a little peek into the life of Sarah Ross, Joanne Brothwell's Little Moon's Release of Vicarious is only 99 cent on Amazon and part of the series.

Again, thanks for being here today, Joanne!!

Now, I'm going to offer a short excerpt, because the book was great reading! Your words are amazingly visual, I have no problem falling into your stories.


The rust-pitted shovel hit the casket with a dry, hollow thud. Stefano pulled the shovelful of earth out, this time leaving behind a hole that revealed the dark mahogany wood below. Ignoring the mineral taste of dirt in his mouth, he slung the soil off to the side and straightened up, grinning at the cavity he‘d made in the earth. Finally, the precious bones interred here would be freed from their earthly prison. Finally. Father is so close now. 

Stefano wiped his gritty brow with the back of his hand, closing his eyes briefly as he sucked in a deep breath. His eyes flicked back open; his hair ruffled in the soft breeze, sending sweat-soaked tendrils tickling back and forth across the back of his neck. 

All around the dead spoke to him—soft voices urging him on, singing their songs of revenge. Their graves hummed with the music, each stone unique in its individual melody. The white ones, falsetto and ringing; the grey ones an alto pleading. The black resonances rumbled with a deep baritone that wove the sounds all together into an ear-splitting cacophony of self- righteousness. Stefano smiled. Beautiful. His shovel sliced into the earth once again. 

Within moments the coffin came into plain view, visible only by the silvery sheen borrowed from the moonlight. Stefano‘s eyes widened as his heart thudded inside of his chest. The lustre of the casket had dulled in the years since Stefano had last seen it, but the image of that gently sloping wood was inexorably burned into his mind‘s eye. Throwing the shovel aside, Stefano reached for the jigsaw that lay on the grass above him. He turned it on, bent down and stifled a chuckle while the blade tore the wood apart as if it were a knife through butter. 

Bone. The whitish-beige bones glistened within their dark, wooden home. Stefano sucked in a breath as he absently turned the saw off and pitched it back up onto the grass near the open grave. With blistered, bare hands he tore the remainder of the wood away, ignoring the burning splinters that stabbed into his fingers. The coiling scent of rot rose from the casket. Father. 

The bones were fully intact. Stefano let out a long sigh as the full impact hit him—the bones were completely usable—and now nothing, nothing at all, stood in his way. 

Stefano gathered up the bones in his arms, carrying them as he if were carrying a small, fragile child, and gently placed them on the grass alongside the gaping hole in the ground. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the last necessary ingredients. This is the only way. The only way to return to my former power. Evandro has forced my hand. 

He placed the items atop the bones—a blood-stained, torn piece of clothing with the blood of the betraying son, a wallet, representing the individual, and Stefano‘s own dog tags with the Valente family crests, representing the lineage. He set them all atop his father‘s bones and then stood over the pile, looking down. His breath came in quick gasps, as excitement and fear spread through his body, his hands shaking. 

―Modicum Satanis versus Organias madis Revengus!‖ Stefano‘s lips uttered each and every word with deadly precision, the sound ringing out as smooth as silk into the silent night. 

Overhead, the night sky exploded into a fiery red, the clouds rolling outward from the
point directly above Stefano, like flames extending—spilling—from a central point. A low baritone hum began that reverberated through the ground beneath Stefano‘s feet, the volume building and building until it reached a thunderous roar that seemed to electrify each and every particle around Stefano‘s head. With a loud crack the light and sound disappeared.
Stefano stared at what stood directly in front of him. ―Father.

Book Trailer.....

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Stealing Breath by Joanne Brothwell

Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Pages: 258

(Released: March 1, 2012)

From the Cover:

Deep in the backwoods of North Dakota, twenty-one year old Sarah Ross is searching for a missing child when she is attacked by a glowing-eyed, transparent... creature. Sarah survives, destroying the monster by using mysterious abilities she didn't even know she had. 

Bloody and bruised, Sarah flees the scene and runs directly into Evan Valente, a handsome, charismatic stranger who helps her back to safety. But what is Evan doing out in the forest at five in the morning? 

Turning to a healer, Sarah is shocked to learn her eyes bear the mark of the Indigo Child-an evolved human with the ability to feel the emotions of others. But her indigo aura also makes her an easy target for those who wish to consume her powerful essence.

Soon, Sarah is falling deeply in love with Evan and wants nothing more than to follow her heart and trust that he is the man he says he is. But she can't ignore the lingering feeling that Evan is hiding a terrible secret. The deeper she digs, the more danger she faces, leading her on a course that will force her to face the darkest, innermost parts of her soul.

Sarah Ross doesn't know what's happening in her life, are these new found abilities real? And what about the thing that tried to attack her? Did she kill that thing? Or was it even there? These are all the questions pouring through her thoughts are she makes her way back to the campgrounds.

And the guy who finds her and helps her stumble her way back to the campgrounds. Who was he and why was he there?

Stealing Breath by Joanne Brothwell is a different sort of fantasy novel, and in my opinion falls into the category of New Adult, easily. It tells the story of Sarah, a girl with empathic and psychic abilities, she can read people, but there in lays the problem. It makes her attractive to the skinwalkers (those who's souls can leave their bodies), she's like candy, drawing them to her, but she's also one of the few who can repel them as well. Then Evan Valente walks into her life, he's gorgeous, wealthy, and... she discovers, he's from family of high priestess and priest of the Malandanti, evil magic practitioners whose lore begins in the old world families of Italy. There are good magic practitioners, the Benandanti, who worked to stop the Malandanti, unfortunately, Evan's roots betray him. But, Evan claims, he doesn't want to be Malandanti, he's never taken a soul, he's never eaten the life force of another. Can Sarah believe him? Can she trust him to not sift into her body, draining her dry? And what about his brother? Stephano's determined to have Sarah's soul. Will Evan turn against him?

Stealing Breath was an awesome read! I fell in love with the tortured Evan, determined to try to keep Sarah with him. And she's drawn, not only by his good looks, but by the need to save him, if only from himself. Stephano, Evan's brother, is determined to eat her soul, and so powerful her soul's meal would be. She's an Indigo Child, her soul holds great power that he could claim for his own. Can she heal Evan's soul, can she keep him from bowing down to his brother, and becoming what he doesn't want to be? Joanne Brothwell provides an excellent read into the world of Native American mysticism blended with the old world mysticism of the magic practitioners, where everything isn't has it appears to be. I highly recommend this book! If you're looking for something new to read in the fantasy genre, this is the book for you. If you love a book that draws you in, filled with mysticism, this is the book for you. If you're looking for something different in the paranormal genre, give this book a try, you won't be sorry.

Five out of five fairy kisses for this reader.

I received my copy of the ebook for review from the author. All opinions expressed are my own.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

New Series Discovery! Montana Mustangs, Book 2, The Nymph Series by Danica Winters

Publisher: Crimson Romance
Page estimate: 205

(Release Date: May 6, 2013)

From the Cover:

A nymph: a woman with the ability to seduce at will, shift to protect, but cursed with the fate to have the man she falls in love with die a tragic death. As one of these ill-fated nymphs, Aura Montgarten has spent her lifetime drifting from one place to another hiding from love. Until she meets Dane.

When a body washes up on the shore of a rural Montana lake, police officer Dane Burke is faced with the task of finding the killer - even if it means he will be forced to put his life and heart at risk by working with a drifter. As the truth of Aura’s Mustang-shifting nymph ways are revealed, Dane learns exactly the amount of danger he and Aura are in, but can’t force himself to leave a case unsolved when the truth is just outside his grasp.

When the killer decides he needs to take another victim - Dane - Aura must choose between their forbidden love and her immortal life. Can there be life without love or is death her only choice?

Sensuality Level: Sensual

Available for Pre-Order

Does this sound good or what!!! Can't wait to take a peek!

Monday, April 8, 2013

Monday Afternoon Flash Fiction Challenge

Happy Monday everyone. I'm being bad and typing this up in my Structure of English class, while the professor attempts at our names. *sighs* I know I should pay attention, but I loath Grammar classes with a passion. I like to consider myself a novice writer, so I should be all over this class like a bee on honey...however....not so much. I think the majority of writers out there will agree with me. 

Anyways, here is this week's challenge.

This is something rather different from past pictures shared in this challenge. I randomly found while browsing through Wild, Wild West pictures. Who are these men on the hill? Are they women perhaps? Mhmmm. Cowboys, Indians, just some rogues, or idiots lost in the desert. Can't wait to see what you guys come up with!

I shall share my story from last week:

Lust is a Sin: Tale of Francine
by: Carole Rae

He haunted her dreams. She could not get the blasted man from her head. was fruitless to allow herself to think on him even for a second for the man was married. The man belonged to another. The man belonged to her sister, Mary. Francine loved her sister more then anything in the world and that was why she tried to keep the blasted man from her head. However, the snake kept slithering in. She let out a sigh and flopped onto the settee and threw her feet up onto the footstool that was blue and did not match anything else in her bedroom.

She had to leave that party.

It killed her to see them dancing and making jolly upon the dance floor. Yes, this was a celebration of HER birthday this beautiful spring night, but she could find no joy. Mary owned the heart of the man she wanted. The man she lusted over, but tried oh so hard not to. Francine let out another sigh and closed her eyes. Perhaps she just needed to close her eyes and it would make the wine stop making her head spin. Whenever she drank the bubbly goodness, her jealousy and lust became as bright as the August sun.

It didn't help. All she kept envisioning was herself dancing with her Edward...Mary's Edward, she reminded herself, he is not yours.

About an hour drifted along while she tried to keep her mind blank. She must have drifted off for she snapped awake and fell back into consciousness from a knock on the door. After gaining back her footing in the consciousness, she asked, “Who is it?”

“It's Edward.” A chill ran up her spin.

“” She stuttered and began adjusting her bodice and hair.

“Mary wanted me to check on you for you have been gone an hour or so my dear.”

“Oh...well...I am afraid I drank too much wine and so I had to escape for a moment for my head was hurting.” Not an entire lie.

“I see. Are you feeling better?”

Francine bit her lip. The wine was still strong in her veins, so she replied with a sigh, “Oh, no I am not. I sat upon my settee and I'm feeling sick, but I can not get myself up. I really would like to go to bed.”

After a seconds thought, Edward asked, “Would you like my help?”

A cat's smile played on her lips, but kept with the same tone of helplessness, “If it isn't too much hassle for you, Edward.”

“No hassle at all, Francine.” He replied gallantly. She nearly swooned just from the way he said her name.

“Then do come in, please.” She adjusted her bodice, she off quite a bit of skin. It made her look alluring and in needing of a strong man.

The door quickly opened and Edward walked in. Without even taking a second glance at Francine's breasts, he strode over too her. With a smile of pure friendliness, he lifted her up, “My poor, dear sister. No more wine at the next function.” He chuckled.

“Mhmmm, perhaps not.” She was on cloud 9. Her whole body was pretty much pressed up against his. She wanted him. She would have him.

Softly, as if putting a babe to bed, he laid her down and put the blanket over her, “Sleep tight, dearest sister, for you will have a raging headache in the morning.”

Francine sighed, “Before you go...could you adjust my pillow?”

Edward nodded, “Of course.” He reached above her and shimmed the pillow down a little bit and made sure it was nicely supporting her head. Before he could stand straight back up, Francine wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her lips. Her greedy lips latched themselves to his always smiling, red lips.

She was sure her heart would explode.

He quickly yanked her arms off of him and pulled away as if Francine were the Devil herself. He grimaced and wiped her taste away and yelled, “What the bloody Hell, Francine.”

She crawled out of bed and tried to walk over to him with much sexiness as should could, but she was taken over by the wine. One of her creamy breasts was nearly spilled over her bodice. With a chuckle she replied, “I want you want me. Mary doesn't have to know.”

“This is not you, Francine. You are drunk and out of your mind! I'm leaving and you better go back to bed and sleep this off.” He roared.

Ignoring him, she tried to latch herself back onto him, but he dodged her and ran for the door. She tried to go after him, but she tripped over her Tiger rug and crashed to ground. Tears from the wine and being denied from the man she wanted came spilling forth.

The End.


Monday, April 1, 2013

Monday Evening Flash Fiction Challenge

Good evening everyone! Sorry about skipping out last week. I've been bad with posting all over the blogging world. Just life being a pain, you know? 

Well, here's this week challenge! I'll try to contribute and write this week! Thanks Lizzie for sharing this on Facebook!

By: Rogelio de Egusquiza
Mhmmmmm. So many things could be done with one as well. 


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