Archive | September 22, 2014

Capital D Blog Tour 9/22/14

Silka Fontein was a typical rich little girl until she disappeared 15 years ago, right after her high school graduation after party. What happened to her? No one knows where she went to or why she had left so suddenly. Now, after all these years she returns home, different and completely changed, with secrets so deadly that everyone’s lives are in danger!  
She reunites with Taber Blake, her childhood friend turned quintessential playboy.  As they fight their unexpected attraction for one another, a series of action packed events have them fighting for their lives.  It is then that Taber’s own lethal secrets are exposed in the process. Will their attraction be enough to survive the truth?



This mish-mash of action, adventure, comedy, romance, mystery, suspense and drama is spy thrilling, spine chilling read bound to keep you begging for more! Available in an Adult or PG rated version, you will have no reason not escape into their world and hearts.



When Ash Stone (pen name) was born she was cute, cuddly and blue! Fortunately by the time the journalists arrived to take photos her, she was no longer blue. She made headlines in the local papers for being the only Christmas baby to be born that day in Aliwal North (South Africa). That’s right! She is was born on Christmas Day 1974. Before you say  “Aw Shame”  and break out the tissues, please know that Ash is a Christmas Diva! She always gets her two presents or else!



She is the second eldest of four daughters to a mother who was an accountant. Her father was a high ranking police officer in the old Apartheid regime, meaning he sat behind a desk and drank tea all day. They moved around a lot whenever her father was promoted to a bigger desk with better tea. As a result Ash did not have many friends and found her escape in books.

Ash’s first writing experience was when she had to write an essay to Toyota South Africa, in order to be chosen for their Toyota Edulink Program. She wrote a very detailed and motivational essay about how she was going to be the Managing Director of Toyota one day. After they undoubtedly had a good chuckle, Ash was chosen as the the only girl to represent all the Afrikaans schools in her province. She went on to be chosen for the Toyota Junior Achievement Programme and became the Managing Director of the company they had set up. The company made a profit and naturally Ash was tickled pink! Ash was chosen to remain in the Toyota Edulink Program for a total of three years. Whilst in her final year at school she also joined another program and studied Journalism and Drama at the Westville University.
After graduating high school, Ash went to study Business and Marketing Management as inspired by her father who had left the police force long ago and started his own property investment firm. Being a typical rebel, rather than joining the corporate world afterwards, Ash became a vegetarian hippie instead and went into a gardening/ nursery business with her mom. The irony of a vegetarian plant lover is still lost on her to this day.
Even though Ash never became the Managing Director of Toyota South Africa, she had enjoyed success in every aspect of her life. She is an award winning Horticulturist and won another award for a display when she represented South Africa in the 2000 Amsterdam Hortifair.
Among her many occupations,  Ash was more notedly the Purchasing Manager for McDonald’s Asia, Pacific, Middle East and Africa region. These days she is not a high flying corporate Exec or a vegetarian hippie, but internal sales at a local Mining supplier during the day. At night, she runs her own blog tour company, is an Admin of the Author Association ASMSG, a Guild Reviewer, a book blogger and self confessed Facebook addict.

She lives in Alberton with her childhood-friend-turned-husband and their two sons where she enjoys breaking all the rules with her writing. The eternal rebel loves to connect with her fans (or “Stoneys!” as she calls them). So, go on you rebel you!
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Consult the Author’s website for the PG rated version or to download the format for your eReader if it is not available in the digital bookstores below:



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    On her way to work, she noticed a very glamorous looking coffee place. How convenient, she thought as she entered and stood in line. In front of her there was a queue of about seven people. They all looked like young corporate types and portrayed the impatience and self-importance typical of their generation. Part of her was glad to be back in civilization. The last time she had been here, she had spent a night with her parents en route to the new job. There was no time for ‘meets and greets’ or any reunions back then.
    “You’re not stalking me, are you?” Behind her Tay managed to surprise her yet again, but it only took a breath for her to regain her composure.
    “Hardly, I work across the street, so that leaves the stalking title to you,” she replied slowly and calmly without looking at him.
    She could feel the enjoyment emanating from him as his warm, minty breath caressed her cheek. His fragrance turned her on. He was leaning into her making every follicle in her body respond. There was an electric chemistry she felt just by his presence. It delighted her and excited her like nothing before.
    “I’ve gotten my morning coffee here every day before work for the last ten years,” he responded way too pleased with himself.
    “Good thing we are not dogs, or we’d be marking our territories right now,” she quipped back with a smile on her face.
Amused by her response, he offered his solution.
    “Or we could start a new tradition and have coffee together every day before work.”
    “Next!!” A shout came from behind the counter. A young lady with way too much make up on stood there waiting for Silka’s order.
    “I’ll have a regular coffee, please,” Silka pointed to the menu.
    “And I shall have a Latte along with that,” Tay duly informed the clerk and threw a bill of an impressive denomination on the counter as he positioned himself next to Silka.
    After she gave them their coffees, he took Silka by the hand. “Please sit and have your coffee with me?” he implored her with a look of anticipation normally seen on a kid about to receive his birthday present.
    He wore a dark suit and blue collar shirt with a matching tie. His tidy hair, clean shaven face and that suit made him look like a million bucks. Bloody hell he was Godly.  He was by far the most striking man she had ever seen. His looks made her heart contract, let alone her uterus.
    “Five minutes!” She raised her eyebrows sternly, but then smiled. She followed him to a table in the far corner. Taber pulled out a chair for her. She took a seat and leaned back with her coffee in one hand.
    Sitting opposite her around the very small, square table he couldn’t help but stare at her. How had he not recognized her? How had he never noticed how stunningly beautiful she was? More importantly where had she been? His mind flooded with questions. What had happened to her in the last fifteen years? Who had happened to her most of all? She had a maturity about her which was way beyond her youthful looks.
    She sat looking at him, gently sipping her coffee, smiling slightly and slowly blinking. She had always been confident, but he had never thought of that confidence as being sexy. To him her confidence was arrogance when he was young. Since he had become an adult he realized how wrong he had been. The caliber of women he dated was far from confident, trusting or loyal. They were insecure, jealous, whiney, clingy little girls that loved him only as long as his credit cards were at their disposal.
    Which reminded him: “How did you get Amber so spot on? She was highly impressed with you.”
Silka gave a huge grin.
    “I had my fair share of gold diggers. Amber will be anything and everything you want her to be, until the day you marry her. That is when you will see her true colors.” She suddenly realized that this was nothing new to him, although he looked as if he had just discovered a turd in his coffee. He leaned back in his chair.
    “What have you been up to all these years?” he asked boldly.
    “Why don’t you tell me about your side first?” she requested looking as if she could melt a polar ice cap.
    “Fine. Graduated high school, obviously, fulfilled other obligations, spent a gap year traveling the world, finished university and then went to work for my dad. Spill it!” he shot a challenging look back at her as he turned the tables.
    “Love to, but I am running late for work,” she said glancing at her watch.  He paused for a second.
    “Very well,” he smiled smoothly. As they stood up, he followed her towards the door. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked.
    “Only if I get the next round. Thank you for the coffee.”
    “Not a problem,” he said as they stepped onto the pavement. For a moment they stood there staring at each other. She smiled suddenly, and turned to cross the road.
    “Bye, Tay.”
    “Bye, Silly,” he yelled back. Sure enough he stood there watching her glide into the building across the street.
    Climbing into the back of his chauffeur driven car, Taber wondered if she had taken offense at the mention of the name he used to pull out of the box regularly to rile her up.  It got her every time.
    Silka used to hate being called Silly. She hadn’t heard that name in ages. It used to make her angry, but hearing it out of his gorgeous mouth today made her smile. His mouth was all she could think of as she headed out the elevator, into the parking garage, and drove out to the place she really worked at, in the outskirts of town, in a car that was not really hers, no less.




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Separation by Stylo Fantome Release Day Event&Rafflecopter giveaway 9/22/14

separation release day

Release Day Event

SeparationeBook

Book Title: Separation
Author: Stylo Fantôme
Genre: Erotica
Release Date: September 22, 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Synopsis

Can the Devil be Forgiven?

Everything is fun and games till someone gets hurt, and what Jameson Kane did to Tatum O’Shea goes so far beyond hurt, he is well into the realm of unforgivable. Tate says she wants him gone for good, and he quickly learns that the old saying, “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”, is most definitely true.

But Jameson has never been very good at following instructions, and when Satan decides to seek redemption, he’ll go to great lengths to get it. He proposes one last game – one to end them all, if she agrees to play. He is very confident that he can win, but Tate warns him that’s not possible; she will not lose again. Little does she know, Jameson is prepared to do whatever it takes. Prepared to lay the entire world at her feet. Prepared to bear his soul.

What he didn’t count on, though, was handing the damn thing over.

Now he can only pray that his evil ways haven’t rubbed off on Tate too much. Sometimes, it’s very difficult to tell who the Devil really is …

WARNING: contains a semi-reformed devil, a woman scorned, and more Sanders than anyone has a right to witness. Also graphic sexual situations and strong language.

Meet the Author

Crazy woman living in an undisclosed location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since …, forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball – I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I’m clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.

I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there’s your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair – both a curse and a blessing – and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can’t understand me.

Yeah. I think that about sums me up.

excerpt

~Sanders~

People often thought “Sanders” was Sanders’ last name; it wasn’t – his last name was Dashkevich. Sanders was the name of some long forgotten relative. Kind of exotic, really. But he never explained this story, he just let people think what they wanted. That always seemed to work out best for him.

He was thirteen when Mr. Jameson Kane found him, starving on the streets of London. He had tried to steal from Jameson. He had been very bad at pickpocketing, and Jameson had grabbed him by the collar, held him against a wall. But then he’d looked at Sanders in the strangest way, and instead of getting angry, he had offered to buy Sanders lunch.

After the meal, Jameson informed him that if Sanders was at the same spot every day, he would continue buying meals for him. Sanders was sure to be there, every day. After two weeks, they finally got to talking. Jameson asked why he was starving, living on the streets.

“I ran away from home,” Sanders had replied. Jameson had nodded.

“I know how you feel.”

“You ran away, too?

“Sort of. I did something very bad to someone back home.”

“And you felt bad, so you ran away?”

“No, I didn’t feel bad, and that’s why I ran away.”

They kept meeting for lunch. Jameson would have him run the odd errand, then pay him for it. Jameson would laugh – “you’re my assistant now, Sanders, so we have to work out a salary.” Rented out a hotel room for Sanders to stay in, bought him new clothes.

Sanders couldn’t figure it out. Who was this guy? What did he want? For a long time, Sanders thought it was sex. He kept waiting to hear his hotel room door open, see a silhouette in the light. It’s what had always happened to him, in his old home. But it never happened with this man. It became very obvious, very quickly, that Jameson was not attracted to him, at all. Sure, Jameson was very adventurous, and Sanders could see that he lived by a “I’ll try anything once” kind of creedo – but he wasn’t gay. Jameson loved women.

“The perfect woman, Sanders. That’s what I’m on a quest for – the perfect woman. Don’t know if I’ll ever find her,” he had slurred late one night, very drunk.

“Have you ever met a perfect woman?” Sanders asked. Jameson thought long and hard about it.

“I think I might have. But I didn’t know it at the time. And she wasn’t quite perfect yet.”

“Was it a long time ago?”

“Not long enough.”

Sanders wasn’t gay either, but he didn’t really have any interest in sex. He’d never done it. Well, at least not consensually; and never with a girl. He had always been too busy hiding his secret. Then after Jameson came along, Sanders had been too in awe of his new world, too in shock, to think about girls.

He told Jameson about the family he’d grown up with – his aunt’s family, in South London. Sanders was originally from Belarus, but his parents moved to England when he was five. His family got deported, but they managed to leave him at his mother’s sister’s house. He never heard from his mother or father again. His aunt’s husband was an Englishman, and not a very nice one. Sanders didn’t want to tell Jameson that whole story.

So how could Jameson have known?

He had wanted to surprise Sanders. Wanted Sanders’ family to see how well their nephew was doing, the kind of life he was now leading. Let Sanders show off a little. His family owned a small bed and breakfast, and Jameson surprised him by getting them rooms there for a night.

Something snapped in Sanders. When his uncle came to his room, tried to hold him down, tried to tell him that he would never be more than what he was in that moment, Sanders fought back – the first time he had ever done so. He wasn’t a large man, but rage completely overtook him. It wasn’t until Jameson was standing over him, pulling him away, that Sanders even realized he had completely beaten his uncle’s head in against a radiator.

His life would be over. He would at best be deported back to Belarus. At worst, and most likely, spend the rest of his life in prison. Sanders sat in the middle of the blood and gore, and just sobbed. Jameson knelt down and grabbed onto him, held him still against his chest. Told him everything would be okay, that he didn’t have to worry, that Jameson would take care of everything. And when Sanders finally calmed down, Jameson kept his promise. He magically managed to have the body disposed of; cleaned up the room. Left a large sum of money with Sanders’ aunt, who never even seemed to question her husband going missing. Apparently he wasn’t a nice man to anyone else, either.

They never spoke of that night again. Jameson didn’t even ask, just arranged for Sanders to come back to America. Paid for him to attend the best private schools. Sanders was very smart, it turned out. He spoke fluent English, Russian, Belarusian, Polish, and German; as well as conversational French and Spanish. He could play the piano, and got as high as a Master level in competitive chess, before he gave it up. Took classes in sharp shooting. Learned how to rebuild automobile engines.

While in school, Sanders was also diagnosed with a mild form of Asperger’s syndrome. It explained some of his intense focus, why he never really wanted to talk, and his minimal OCD. He hadn’t thought much of it, and Jameson had just laughed, said it would give him a leg up in the world.

Because of Jameson, Sanders was able to do anything he wanted; was allowed to do anything he wanted. Jameson never questioned his choices. When Sanders turned eighteen, Jameson offered to pay for him to go to college, but he declined. He wanted to stay with Jameson. He wanted a real job with him. He wanted to be wherever Jameson was, and the best way was to take a real position as his assistant.

They’d never had an entirely normal relationship, anyway. Jameson was more comfortable, in general, treating everyone like they worked for him. That appealed to Sanders’ meticulous and cold nature. Their relationship worked for them. They didn’t speak a whole lot, and even when they did, they weren’t prone to long conversations. But there was a bond that no one could possibly understand. Sanders loved him. Hadn’t known it was possible to love a person as much as he loved Jameson Kane.

That’s why it killed him to see Jameson so unhappy. Jameson didn’t realize he was unhappy, but Sanders could tell. All the women, all the sleeping around, all the debauchery. Something was missing in Jameson’s life, that much was clear.

Girls came and went. Some stayed a little longer than others. Most ignored Sanders. He ignored all of them. There was an opera singer from Rio that he had almost considered liking, but before he could make up his mind, she was let go. She hadn’t been up to Jameson’s speed, anyway. None of them were, when push came to shove.

Then Petrushka Ivanovic entered the picture. How Sanders had hated her. She was the only one who ever truly got under his skin. They would have arguments in Russian – so Jameson couldn’t understand what they were saying. She called Sanders a useless, dirty, immigrant who was just leeching off of Jameson. He called her a tasteless, fake, bitch who was just another notch on Jameson’s very well marked bedpost. It took a lot longer, but eventually she went away, too. He was very glad.

It wasn’t too much longer before Tatum O’Shea came along. Jameson had mentioned her a couple times, usually after many late night drinks. It was obvious that she had been the reason he had run away so many years ago, that she was that “not quite perfect yet” woman. It was also obvious they hadn’t known each other well – they hadn’t seen each other in over seven years. It was a while before Jameson explained the history to him.

Sanders wasn’t sure what to make of Tatum, at first. He had expected just another silly girl. Another woman who thought she could keep up with Jameson, but ultimately wouldn’t be able to keep up at all. Or one of those types of women who only wanted Jameson for his status and money.

Not Tatum. She took everything Jameson threw at her and rolled with it. Asked for it. Wanted more of it. And she seemed oblivious to, and uncaring of, the fact that he had more money than God. For a short while, and by mutual agreement, the relationship was purely physical, and she actually seemed to like it that way.

Unusual girl.

She also completely ignored Sanders’ weird, awkward, social habits. He didn’t like to talk very much. Tatum liked to talk a lot, and just talked to him anyway. She paid attention to him, asked him how he was doing, what he was doing. Seemed to look right into him sometimes.

She also touched him – no one ever did that. Sanders usually hated to be touched, and it had bothered him a lot, at first. But Tate was very persistent. She held his hand, hugged him, tried to tickle him. It almost seemed as if she touched him more just because she knew he didn’t like it. She was so comfortable with him, right off the bat. The same way Jameson had been. One day, she even kissed Sanders. It was a joke, a ruse, but something snapped in him. Sanders was twenty years old and had never kissed a girl, and here was a girl, laying one on him. He took the opportunity and kissed her back.

But Sanders wasn’t attracted to Tatum, not like that. He could recognize that she was a very, very sexy woman. She was not shy about her body or her sexuality, and she flirted shamelessly with just about anything that moved. He wasn’t entirely immune to her charms; he was heterosexual, after all. But for the most part he didn’t view her that way. She was something different to him. Something special.

On top of that, it was clear from day one that she was different to Jameson, too. Also something special. No one else would have been able to tell, but Sanders could tell. She made Jameson happy. She made Sanders happy. He grew very attached to her.

When the relationship between Tatum and Jameson started to become strained, she would seek Sanders out. Their bond grew stronger. She would come into his room late at night, play chess with him, talk with him. She never rushed him to talk, just waited for the words to come out. Eventually, they did. She never asked questions, never judged anything he had to say. He fell a little in love with her. Not romantically, not sexually. He didn’t know how to explain it. He just loved her.

If necessary, he would probably kill for Jameson Kane.

If asked, he would probably die for Tatum O’Shea.

When the relationship between Jameson and Tatum ended – and it ended badly – Sanders had mourned it. Jameson had been in the wrong. It was the first time he had ever asked Sanders to do things that made him uncomfortable. Things that he found repugnant. He didn’t like lying. It all went to hell. He thought Jameson would admit his fault, admit he’d been wrong, then apologize. But Jameson wouldn’t. It had shocked Sanders. He held Jameson to a very high standard. It was like hearing his father damn himself to hell. Sanders would have to save him.

Sometimes, Sanders felt like he had to fix everything.

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