On the Road with SCP- A Change of Scenery- Debra Parmley

A Change of Scenery Media kit:

Blurb:

Belly dancer Cyree Heat is headed from Memphis to the Caribbean for a vacation after a horrible divorce. A Change of Scenery is just what she needs to forget her troubles. At the Atlanta shuttle station she is handed a letter, which says she cannot board the Zuilund Super Shuttle until she receives an injection of Sendot, a new drug that prevents a new deadly gastrointestinal illness. She stops in a shuttle lounge for a drink on her way to check in and gets locked inside the wrecked deserted room with no one to hear her calling and no cell phone service.

Navy SEAL Warren West finds Cyree sleeping in the lounge and rescues her. Soon they are on the run from the agency because she missed her injection and shuttle and is now on the list. Is a change of scenery what she needs or is it Warren?

Excerpt one:

Atlanta, Georgia 2035

A change of scenery, that's what I need. I want nothing more than to lounge on the beach in the Caribbean and to leave the past behind.

Cyree Heat paused off to the side of the Zuilund shuttle terminal, digging her ticket out of the back hip pocket of her jeans and took a deep breath. Atlanta’s Zuilund shuttle station bustled as if swarmed by an army of ants, each person clutching a bag while rushing toward their destination. A strange feeling surrounded Cyree, like everyone knew a secret, but kept it from her.  She frowned.

The feeling that others knew things she didn’t, that they kept secrets from her, had haunted her ever since the divorce.

Joseph C. Heat, the man she now thought of as Joe Cheat or Cheater Joe, was the cause. Funny how she’d never put his name together like that in all the time they’d dated, been engaged, or married. She’d not known the real Joe until it was almost over. The ultimate smooth salesman, for the first two years he could talk her into almost anything.

They’d met after one of her belly dance performances in Memphis. He’d been charming and attentive, telling her with a wink from the first night that he could lend her his name, Cyree Heat was the perfect name for a belly dancer, he said.  Once upon a time she’d agreed with him, thinking it was way better than Cyree Small. Now, she couldn’t wait to change her name back.

Not only had he cheated on her, he’d even slept with the attorney representing her in the divorce. That one had nearly knocked her flat. How low would the man sink?

He’d tried to cheat her out of the home she’d bought with her inheritance and the little bit of money left over. It all came rushing back as she stood in the Atlanta shuttle station, fighting feelings brought on by her memories as people rushed by.

It’s no wonder I have trust issues, but these feelings need to stop. None of these people know me. What kind of secret could they withhold? They’re just hurrying to catch their flights, not keeping secrets. This is ridiculous. Stop it. Remember who you were before Joe met you. Get a grip.

She took another deep breath, willed the crazy thoughts and uncomfortable feelings away and put her mind back on her beach vacation. She approached the Zuiland counter and showed her identification card and her ticket. “I was told to check in here before our boarding call.”

The woman behind the counter took the ticket Cyree handed her.

“Yes ma’am. We have you on the twelve forty-five flight to Grand Cayman.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Good, now if you will just read this letter,” the woman placed a paper on top of the counter, “and then sign here that you have read and understood.”

Excerpt two:

Cyree hefted her shoulder bag, collected her carryon and headed to get something to quench her thirst before hurrying to the check in point. Her mouth was so dry now, probably from nerves.

Seeing a sign that said Lounge, she entered.

The heavy door slammed behind her.

Bang. Click. Darkness enfolded her. Sudden panic rose in her throat. She spun and grasped the door handle, tugging hard. It didn’t budge.

She was locked inside the dark lounge, an empty lounge.

Where is everyone? Why isn’t this lounge open?

Balling up her fist she pounded on the door. “Hello? Hello? Help! Let me out!”

After several minutes of pounding and yelling it was clear no one would.

She heard only silence. No annoying loudspeaker, no beeping cart, no hurrying people, no chattering voices. Nothing, but dead silence. If she couldn’t hear them, how could they hear her?

Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she took in the room. The upholstered seats of club chairs were shredded; foam stuffing, overturned tables and broken glass covered the floor. Some white substance covered the surfaces and an odor she couldn’t place assaulted her nose.

Had they sprayed something? Maybe that was the smell.

No wonder they kept the door locked. Something odd must have happened here. But what?

They'd closed the lounge to repair it, but the door hadn’t been locked.

Had someone locked the door behind her? Or was the door set to lock itself? Who would know she was locked in?

I'll miss my flight. So much for a restful getaway vacation in the Caribbean. So much for lounging on the beach. This is not the change of scenery I was looking for.

She pulled out her cell phone to call one of her friends. If she could reach one of them and get them to call the Atlanta shuttle station surely they'd send an employee to get her out.

No service.

She stared at the only light in the room, coming from her phone and wanted to scream.

Plunking down on the floor against the wall where there was no white stuff covering the surface, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Could it get any worse? No. Don't even go there. You know better than to go there. Because you ought to know by now it always can. So, don’t think that. That was the old way of thinking brought on by Cheater Joe.

I’m trapped in here and feeling helpless. I hate that feeling.

A tear ran down her cheek, but she was too tired to wipe it away. Tired, she was just plain tired and damn it, she needed this vacation. She wanted to be relaxing on the beach, not here on this nasty floor, stuck in between home and her destination, while locked in a room with no one even knowing she was missing.

****

Navy Seal Warren West cracked open the door, his eyes scanning the supposedly deserted lounge before slipping inside.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Change-Scenery-Debra-Parmley-ebook/dp/B00RD7SSJI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421881955&sr=8-1&keywords=debra+parmley

SecretCravings:

http://store.sweetcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=255&zenid=rvisfemvq1p9eiv5ouv7bs8i67

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/a-change-of-scenery-0

All Romance E-books: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-achangeofscenery-1714138-149.html

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-change-of-scenery-debra-parmley/1120961310?ean=2940046477160

Bio:

Debra Parmley is an author whose goal is to spread love, one story at a time. Happiest writing in more than one genre, her published works to date are in the genres of western historical romance, 1920’s romance, contemporary romance, futuristic romance and poetry. Debra enjoys writing, reading, coaching her writing students, medieval re-enactment events and world travel. Her work as a travel consultant gave her the opportunity to visit many countries and travel often appears in her work.

Her three favorite things are dark chocolate, visiting the beach and ocean, and hearing from her readers. Each letter, card and email is a treasured gift, like finding that perfect shell upon the beach.

Visit www.debraparmley.com for more about Debra and her work as well as her interviews with cover models in Cover Model Corner. Readers who sign up for her newsletters are eligible for her insider contests not available elsewhere.

Contact Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Debra-Parmley/19909053561?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DebraParmley
Goodreads:   http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2279340.Debra_Parmley

Website: http://debraparmley.com

On the Road with SCP - Hard Drive prequel - Tricia Andersen

Book Release

Hard Drive (Prequel to the Hard Drive Series)

Release Date: January 19, 2015

Publisher: Sweet Cravings Publishing (www.sweetcravingspublishing.com)

Genre: Contemporary/Sports/Sweet Romance Novel

Blurb:

Rising MMA star Max Thomas has it all.  When a fight takes a devastating turn, will it all stay the same?

Fast rising MMA superstar Max Thomas seems to have it all for a college student – the beautiful girlfriend, the loyal best friend, the supportive parents and every agent in the area pounding down his door. 
But looks can be deceiving. Tori, his girlfriend, is more concerned about his career in MMA than about him. Quinn, his best friend, is jealous of Max’s every move. And is a life in mixed martial arts what he really wants? 
When Max suffers a devastating injury in the octagon, will his life and those in it stay by his side as he recovers? Or how fast will his perfect world unravel?

Excerpt One:

The expo center was dark, the shadows of bodies mulling around the floor flickering on the bare concrete walls. Everything was dim except for the punishing spotlights that rained down on the octagon in the middle of the cavernous room. Seven fights had already occurred there. The ash grey mat peppered with sponsors’ logos was already smeared with someone’s blood.

The whole scene made Max’s stomach churn. He was certain he was going to hurl, which would be difficult since he had hardly eaten anything in the last week so that he could be certain to make weight.

He turned as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He met his coach’s warm brown eyes.

“How are you doing, Max?”

Max exhaled slowly. “Nervous as hell, Chuck.”

Chuck laughed as he patted Max on the back. “Understandable. But you’ve got this. You’re more than ready.”

Max looked down at his taped hands, glancing briefly at his brand-new fight shorts. “I hope you’re right, Chuck.”

“Of course, I’m right. Once you get done in there, you’ll want to go back. You won’t ever want to stop fighting. Trust me. Just relax. You’re up, right after intermission. You’d better get your gear on.”

Max nodded then stooped over his bag. He pulled free a pair of fingerless MMA gloves lying on top and tugged them on. He examined them briefly, silently grateful the athletic commission approved them. Any little thing was making him anxious at this point.

Rustling through the rest of his belongings, he scooped out his mouth guard case and popped it open. Max slipped the chunk of rubber indented with his teeth marks into his mouth and nudged it into place with his tongue. Following Chuck, he approached the curtain and held his breath.

The thudding beat of Saliva’s “Ladies and Gentlemen” echoed off the walls of the building. Max’s heart thundered along with the bass. He’d always loved this song. And now, he was walking into the cage to it. He didn’t turn as he heard the rustling of his teammates gathering behind him to escort him to his fight. Knowing they were there was enough.

The quick trip from backstage to the octagon seemed to take an eternity. The officials patted Max down from head to toe then asked to see his mouth guard. He popped it between his teeth obediently then sucked it back into his mouth. Once they were satisfied, Max turned to Chuck and closed his eyes.

He shivered a bit as his coach rubbed the cool petroleum jelly on his face while barking final instructions over the loud music. “Keep your hands up! Don’t stop moving! Fight smart!” Max hardly heard a word Chuck said over the pounding of his pulse. His thoughts were focused solely on what was about to happen.

His stomach lurched once more. Max opened his eyes, shooting one last glance at his teammates before stepping into the metal structure. The smile from his best friend, Quinn, boosted his confidence a little.

The announcer drew out the introductions a little longer than Max liked. The crowded cheered louder for his opponent than him. It didn’t surprise Max. The guy had a three-and-oh record. Max wasn’t supposed to win.

Finally, the fighters were called from their respective corners to go over the rules with the referee. Max listened intently. He ignored the fact that the bald, heavily tattooed guy he was about to go to war against was staring him down, trying to psych him out. Let him try. I’m not falling for it.

The ref sent the fighters back to their corners. Max bounced from the ball of one foot to the other. It was time. His heart leaped in his throat as the official shouted out, “Fight!”

Max approached the center of the mat hesitantly, scanning his opponent as he did. The steel-gray eyes that met his glared as the bald fighter threw a jab. Max blocked it, readying himself for the following cross. It never came. Max frowned for a split second as the other fighter danced around. This is how he wants to do it? I don’t think so.

Launching off the balls of his feet Max charged after the bald man with his fists flying. He threw jabs and crosses with lightning speed, catching the retaliation shots on his cheek and temple. None of them were enough to daze him.

As his opponent raised his hands to block the blows to his face, Max dropped to one knee and lunged, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and burrowing his head into the other fighter’s stomach. Lifting, Max dropped him onto the mat, instantly scrambling into side control. The bald man struggled for all he was worth, bucking his hips to throw Max off.

It was all Max needed.

He grabbed his opponent’s arm, wrenching it into a Kimora behind the fighter’s back, who tapped to the submission in seconds. Being tugged off the man by the referee, Max rocked back on his heels in disbelief.

His first fight had resulted in his first win. It was amazing. Chuck was right. He already wanted more, and he hadn’t even stepped out of the octagon yet.

Max’s head snapped up as he heard Chuck’s voice calling him back to the corner. He hopped to his feet and returned to the wall, watching the officials make the final decisions. It was only a matter of minutes before the ref called him back to the center of the ring and raised his arm in victory. It was an incredible feeling.

Excerpt Two:

While Max devoted his time to Quinn and his own training, Tori was either nowhere to be found or content to sit on the sidelines. She never spoke a word of protest when he was too tired to come over to her place to spend the night. She actually encouraged him to rest and sleep instead of spending time with her.

Max understood, but didn’t like it. He was training for his next fight. Knowing he was going to fight made her excited. He certainly didn’t want to disappoint her, even though he wished she saw him for more than his MMA skills.

Between classes and rigorous training, the ten weeks of fight camp flew by. The evening before the fight, both Max and Quinn weighed in on the dot. Not that Quinn had any words of thanks for Max continuously hounding him. Instead, Quinn showed off to the rest of the team then led them away to get something to eat, leaving Max behind.

It didn’t matter, though. Tori had spent the whole week making plans to pamper Max all night. She made him burgers for supper then snuggled with him as they watched his favorite comedy movies. He woke up at the crack of dawn for a jog to settle his already churning nerves, returning to Tori’s for a breakfast of eggs and bacon. Then, giving her a quick peck on the lips, Max hurried off to join the team at the fitness center to warm up before the fight.

Even though Max had a record and Quinn didn’t, Max was first on the card. His stomach erupted with butterflies. Glancing over at Quinn, Max growled. Quinn was laughing and joking it up with the other guys like he didn’t have a care in the world. Max huffed as Chuck shooed him toward the curtain. It was showtime.

Like before, Chuck attempted to shout to Max over the thundering music. It was the same message. “Keep your hands up! Keep moving!” And once again, Max never heard a thing the coach said. He glanced warily into the octagon. At least this guy was smaller than the last. He quickly hugged Chuck and jogged into the cage.

The other fighter stared Max down as the referee barked out instructions. Max fought to roll his eyes. Not again. He hopped back to his corner as he waited for the word he was dying to hear.

“Fight!”

Max slowly circled his opponent, waiting for the moment to strike. Suddenly, the other fighter charged with a few blinding combos. One jab connected squarely on Max’s chin. He shook it off, ducking another cross. Sinking to his knee, he lunged for the man, wrapping his arms around the guy’s waist and dropping him to the mat.

Max quickly hopped on top of his opponent. He punched at the guy, watching as the fighter covered up and rolled to his side to protect himself. Max wasted no time, catching the other fighter’s arm and hugging it tight to him. He threw his legs over the man’s side and, holding tight to the arm, lay back on the mat. Max had barely arched his back before the other fighter tapped out to the armbar.

The referee separated the two men and sent them back to their corners. After a brief deliberation among the officials, Max’s arm was raised in victory.

Max hurried to the back to free his hands from the tape. Quinn’s fight was up next, and he didn’t want to miss it. Throwing his hooded sweatshirt over his head and tugging it into place, he raced to join the rest to walk Quinn in. As Welcome to the Jungle blared through the exhibition center, they followed Quinn to the octagon.

Watching from the curtain, Max cringed through the fight. It didn’t go well. Quinn took heavy strikes to the face and body. He was nearly choked out at the end of the first round, only surviving by the mercy of the bell.

In the second round, Quinn got his lucky break when he kicked out as his opponent escaped his guard, catching the guy under the chin. The blow somehow knocked the fighter out, his body dropping unconscious to the mat long enough for the referee to call it.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. His best friend had won, but Quinn looked like he had been through hell.

Once they returned to the back, Max packed his bag and slipped out into the exhibition center. It didn’t take long to find Tori. She nearly jumped into his arms the second he stepped past the security guard. He melted into her embrace. “You won!” she gushed.

“I shouldn’t have pushed Quinn’s fight,” Max muttered.

“What? Why do you care? You’re the superstar, not Quinn.”

“Because Quinn is my best friend.” Max pulled from Tori’s arms and crossed his over his chest.

“Max, what is it?”

“For once, Tori, I wish you would see me. Not the fighter. Me.”

She stared at him for a long, hard moment. Then, she wrapped her arms around him again. For the first time since they had started dating, he could see the soft gaze of love in her eyes. “I’m sorry. He’s going to be all right. You were just trying to help. You know he appreciates you sticking up for him.”

Max hugged her right this time. Smiling, he kissed her on the forehead. Finally, they were in love.

Buy Links

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Hard-Drive-Book-ebook/dp/B00SG3N51Y/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1421736276&sr=8-3&keywords=tricia+andersen

Author’s Bio:

Tricia Andersen lives in Iowa with her husband, Brian and her three children – her sons, Jake and Jon, and her daughter, Alex.  She graduated from the University of Iowa with a Bachelor of Arts in English and from Kirkwood Community College with an Associate of Arts degree in Communications Media/Public Relations.  Along with writing (which she loves to do), Tricia practices mixed martial arts, coaches and participates in track and field, reads, sews and is involved in many of her children's activities.

Tricia is the host of the Blog Talk Radio show Freshly Booked, a part of Writers Online Network. 

Author Links:

www.triciaandersen.com

www.insidethiswritersmind.com

www.facebook.com/t.l.andersenauthor

www.twitter.com/triciaandersen

www.youtube.com/channel/UC-urTJQmAbPpgO4aJ6PooMQ

www.pinterest.com/tricialandersen