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Want a fantastic way to add more books to your TBR, become a host for R&R Book Tours! You’ll increase your readership, read new books before they hit stores, and become even more active in our awesome blogging community! Psst, I even organize giveaways for my hosts to enter 😉 




Book Birthday Blitz: Deity’s Soulmate by Angelina Kerner (April 3rd) “Ready to Post”

Hey bloggers!

“Deity’s Soulmate” is celebrating its first book birthday on April 3rd with a “Ready to Post” Birthday Book Blitz! It’s one day only and we’re really excited to share this one with everyone! HTML will be available to those who can use it and of course there will also be a media kit including the individual items. 

So come join the celebration!

34802584.jpgFrom author Angelina Kerner (Seven Hours: Challenge Accepted) comes an all-new fantasy series about Gardenia, a daughter of Athena, and her 100 years of coursework on how to create whole new worlds and subjects of her own.

A sheltered school child in a realm of condescending gods and goddesses, Gardenia goes to Earth on a dare to witness the unsavory side of mankind for herself. Believing she can do better, she undertakes the formation of an entire galaxy, but without permission from Zeus.

Zeus disciplines her by assigning an epic 13-fold creational lesson destined to take her a century to complete. But he is taken aback once more when she makes an odd choice. She vows to fulfill this knowledge quest by tracking down a lost race of dragons, and discovering the secrets they’ve kept since time began.

Searching the universe to meet even one dragon may be a fool’s errand, but that’s the least of her worries. For ancient wartime resentments linger between the nations of dragons and deities, and some dragons would attack Gardenia on sight!

Yet she ventures out undaunted, learning unexpected things about nomadic life, tender love, and mortal peril along the way. The biggest surprise of all, though, goes by the name of Ri. Ri may be the man of her dreams, the voice in her head, the dragon she’s seeking, or all these things and more…

Meanwhile, the Fates brew sordid plans of their own and Hera jealously sets traps and trials for Gardenia at every chance. What’s a young goddess to do? Flight or fight?


About the Author


ANGELINA KERNER is a self-published author of paranormal and lighthearted romance. She’s the wife of a photographer/physicist, and the mother of a cute little toddler, but she’s also been a dancer, a psychologist, an anthropologist, a geographer, a dreamer, and an adventurer. She does her best writing while being bothered by her cats, taking care of her son, in dressing rooms while waiting for family to try on clothing, and at home in sunny California. Angelina loves to play goddess-dragon matchmaker, transporting readers to a place where young goddesses have lovable flaws, the Fates plan to dethrone, the universe is endless and untamed, and dragons roam free! She also loves to write carefree romance where one can finish reading with a smile.

Where Dragons Reside

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Blog Tour: Mask Beneath Her Face by Rafael Chandler


For fans of 80’s slasher flicks like Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp

Warning: This book contains graphic violence and gore. Definitely not for the faint of heart but if you can handle it… what a ride!

Mask Beneath Her Face (Release Date October 14, 2017)

During the 1980s, slashers terrorized America. With machetes and masks, these unstoppable killers stalked college campuses, quiet suburbs, and lakeside cabins.

Thirty years ago, Bobbi Metzger survived a massacre at her 16th birthday party. She spent decades putting her life back together.

Tonight, Bobbi will face a new killer: a high-tech slasher hell-bent on opening the doorway to an abyss of unimaginable horror.

How long can Bobbi survive this nightmare? What will she do to protect the people she loves? How much blood is she willing to spill?

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Bobbi Metzger wrenched the hatchet from her boyfriend’s skull. In a few minutes, Bobbi thought, I will kill her, or she will kill me. Either way, this is going to be over soon.

She lurched across the room. Blood-soaked carpet squished under her feet. Red droplets slid down and dripped from the handmade banner over the doorway: Happy Birthday, Bobbi!

July 1st, 1987, was supposed to be the greatest night of her life. With their parents out of town, Bobbi and her sister had invited everybody to the lake house, and they’d more or less trashed the place.

Bobbi stepped over a dead body: a girl in acid-washed jeans and a Noid t-shirt. Bobbi didn’t recognize her. One of Megan’s friends.

The TV was still on. There was a video on MTV, some new band called Guns N’ Roses. Bobbi’s sister, Megan, had switched loyalty from Def Leppard to these guys, because she thought their singer was hot. “I’d feel his serpentine, anytime.”

“Those guys are all gross,” Bobbi had said. “Rob Lowe’s cute, though.”

Megan had pretended to gag.

Thick drops of blood dotted the red icing on Bobbi’s cake. A birthday card was propped up next to the cake, and the message was scrawled in Megan’s loopy handwriting: POP THAT CHERRY, BOBBI!

If Bobbi turned her head just a little bit, she would see Megan pinned to the wall with a fireplace poker through her mouth, blood dripping from the band of her polka-dotted Swatch. Bobbi didn’t look. She took another tentative step.

You can do it. You have to. If you don’t, you’re dead, like everyone else. No choice.

She stepped around the table in the middle of the room.

Heart pounding, Bobbi peeked into the kitchen. Nothing. She looked behind her.

On the couch, Bobbi’s boyfriend Kevin stared at her blankly, the hatchet wound like a vertical grin in his forehead. He wore a CONTRA t-shirt. Kevin spent most of his money down at Galaxy, the arcade at the mall, plugging quarters into games like Contra and Rastan.

Last night, Kevin had tried to protect Bobbi, throwing himself at the woman in black; but she had plucked the hatchet from his hand and buried it in his skull, so quickly that Bobbi wasn’t sure it had happened at all.

Then the killer had grinned at Bobbi while Kevin slumped backwards onto the couch, the axe handle sticking out of his skull. Bobbi tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.

Seven hours later, she was still trying to scream.

She caught a glimpse of herself in hallway mirror; she’d aged thirty years in a single night. The side of her face was swollen and sunrise-hued, crusted with dark blood.

Suddenly dizzy from pain and blood loss, she stumbled into the kitchen and banged her shin on a keg of beer. She froze, eyes wide. The killer heard that. She’s going to grab me and rip my face off. Hell, she’s probably right behind me. Bobbi turned to look. Nothing.

Carefully stepping around the keg, Bobbi tiptoed into the kitchen. Lipstick-stained cigarette butts spilled out of ashtrays; empty cans of Coors Light huddled around the sink. Hell of a party, Bobbi thought.

Last night, Bobbi had very nearly taken her first sip of beer, and had (more or less) made up her mind to lose her virginity to Kevin before the sun came up.

But around midnight, someone had emerged from the woods, right in the middle of Bobbi’s sweet-sixteen festivities.

A woman in dark rags, clutching rusty knives, muttering nonsensical words.

A killer.

Hands trembling, Bobbi eased the kitchen drawer open. She paused, listening intently. Nothing. She sniffed the air. Nothing.

Okay, make it quick. And quiet.

She pocketed a couple of lighters and a book of matches, then snuck out the door, onto the porch. The sun was coming up.

Her face throbbed where the killer had tried to cut her face off. She had sliced Bobbi from ear to jaw; Bobbi squirmed free and bolted for the woods.

She thought about running. Then Katie Harper ran past her, into the woods, still naked from skinny-dipping, her hands covered in blood and her mouth open impossibly wide in a keening wail, and then Katie must have stumbled into some kind of trap, because a massive wooden spike jabbed straight up out of a pile of leaves and went straight through Katie’s torso, impaling her in mid-stride, and she twitched silently for a few minutes as she hung there.

So Bobbi didn’t run.

The police car was still parked in front of the lake house, doors wide open. Someone must have called 911 before the phone line got cut. Crouching behind their car, the cops had opened fire on the killer, and in return, she had scattered bits of them all over the lawn.

Bobbi stepped over a cop’s leg. Sunlight glinted on ripples in the lake, but there was no movement on the shore. Just mangled skinny-dippers.

Could get into the police car, maybe grab the radio, and push some buttons. Tell the other police to come quickly.

But no. She’d die waiting for the cops. And if she escaped this alive, she’d never sleep again. She’d go insane waiting for the killer to find her.

She won’t just let me go. I saw her face.

And she wants me dead.

Sunlight glinted off a cop’s watch; the cop’s arm, which lay next to an empty bottle of bourbon, had been hacked off just above the elbow.

From the ragged stump, a drop of blood floated up, like a dandelion seed. Bobbi stared, bewildered. Other drops beaded up on the torn flesh and cracked bone, and they drifted up into the air, weightless.

Bobbi shook her head. Was she hallucinating? Same thing happened last night, she thought, just before the killer grabbed me. When she’s near, blood floats like we’re in outer space. Or maybe I’ve lost my mind.

Faster now, Bobbi staggered down the gravel path. It veered off the driveway, then split, one end curving over lush grass to the boathouse, and the other sloping down to the lake. She trudged to shore, then gently stepped onto the fishing pier.

Nothing on the shore behind her, no movement in the woods, nothing in the windows of the house. Maybe she’s gone. But no, the killer wasn’t going to give up, sunlight be damned. She would follow Bobbi.

She had to follow Bobbi, in order for this plan to work…

About the Author


Rafael Chandler writes novels (Hexcommunicated, The Astounding Antagonists), video games (SOCOM 4, Rainbow Six: Lockdown, MAG), and tabletop role-playing games (Teratic Tome, Lusus Naturae). He’s a metalhead, a kaijuphile, and a gorehound.

Rafael Chandler | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

For your chance to win either a print copy or 1 of 5 digital copies of Mask Beneath Her Face, click the link below!

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R&R Book Tour Host “Thank You” Giveaway Winner!

A big congratulations to Debbie at Bookish Style! Thank you for being hosting R&R’s bookish events and enjoy your Amazon gift card! Hmmm, I wonder what she’ll buy 😉

Thank you all for entering my little giveaway!