Fireworks by Denise Alicea #Sweet #Romance #TimeTravel

 

  

Denise Alicea will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

If your book were made into a movie, who would you want to play your main characters?

If Fireworks was made into a movie I would love

How do you come up with the titles of your books?

It’s a process of looking at the story and of course asking my peers what they think of certain titles.

What does your writing space look like?

I write on my laptop so I can be in any room I like. I like to sit up on a couch with my feet up.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

I love reading YA and Romance books. I also love drawing, watching movies and learning new technology.

What is your favourite color?

Blue is my favorite color as it’s a calming color.

What is your favourite pleasure food?

Pizza. It’s my guilty pleasure.

What is your favourite season?

The fall because of the leaves and the colors during these season. It’s beautiful in Connecticut.

What is your favourite television show?

I have many favorite shows, The Flash, Supergirl, Arrow, Timeless, American Horror Story.

What is your favourite movie?

I have many, but I love The Last Unicorn.

Who is your favourite actor?

I have many, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Michael Shanks, and more.

What is your favourite song?

C.S. Lewis Song by Brooke Fraser. The song and lyrics are beautiful.

What is your favourite comfort clothing attire?
What books might we find on your bedside table?

Right now I’m reading a lot of the villain books by Disney. I’m also re-reading the R.L. Stine Fear Street series.

Describe yourself in three words.

Geeky, Reader, Loveable.

 

After Sarah’s grandfather passes away, it’s up to Sarah to pack up a lifetime’s worth of his possessions as she comes to terms with her grief. As she goes through his possessions, she finds a picture. The faded black and white picture seems innocuous at first, but something draws her towards it. As she studies the picture and the man inside it, she forgets her grief momentarily.

However, there’s more to the faded picture of a soldier in 1940s New York than she realizes, and soon she unexpectedly meets him—but he hasn’t aged a day. As they get to know each other, Sarah’s feelings begin to grow…

Excerpt

Hours later, a huge crash woke her up and she found herself sitting straight up in her bed. Moving the hair away from her face, she slowly crawled out of bed slowly and tip toed to the door. Before she opened the door, she grabbed the wooden bat gripping it firmly as she opened the door. Cursing under her breath as she hears the door creaking. Seeing a huge shadow in her living room, readying the bat in her hands Sarah swings it. Instead it slips her hands flying across the living room with a resounding ding.

           

“Grenade!” James shouted as he ducked hoping that his helmet and the object in front of him protected him. He looked again in the dark, why does this object look like a sofa. He huddles down to the ground and waits, but nothing happens. Slowly holding onto his helmet, he gets on his hands and knees only to be confronted by yellow eyes and a wet nose. It swipes and hisses at him, a cat! James falls back and hits a table, knocking a lamp into the floor. He turns around and sees it in pieces.

           

Cursing under her breath and no time to call the cops, Sarah charged at him in full speed. Jumping on him and punching him in the face. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my home?” Sarah yelled at the tops of her lungs. Blinking, James took a second after the punch to recover to look at his attacker. Who was this woman and where was he?

           

Grabbing her hands and holding back from his face, “I was fighting Nazis five minutes ago and now I’m. Where the hell am I lady?”

“You are in New York and how would you be fighting Nazi’s? It’s 2013 and I know Nazi’s still exist but not in the form you’re talking about. You got the wrong house buddy, so I suggest you get up and leave,” Sarah said getting up and walking away from him to compose herself. Why did he look so familiar? She found a good lamp, praying that it would turn on and it did. She could see this man a bit better. He looked like someone who came out of a convention.

James composing himself the best he could, stood up and could see all around him. He went from the battlefield and suddenly was in a place that looked like something out of one of those science fiction books he read.  “This is some kind of joke,” he said standing up and looking around him, in a trance like he was in a dream. “This is all a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Born to the great  lively city of Manhattan, NY, and raised in quiet Connecticut. Denise started writing  when drawing and painting were not enough. Deciding to try a new type of medium, she thought to start with poetry. After her first success and first reading at the age of fifteen. Her writing began to take on new life with her own worlds of fantasy, time travel, action, adventure and of course romance.  She draws inspiration from her favorite childhood cartoons and experiences to her current day ones.

A member of Romance Writers of America  and several of its chapters since 2005, Denise has won two awards for her short stories and several finalist nominations. She always finds the time to help others through RWA and also her book review blog, The Pen & Muse Book Reviews.

When not writing, Denise loves technology, reading (romance, YA, anime, nonfiction, fiction, Technology, Social Media) , watching movies and TV shows.

http://www.denisealicea.com/

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDeniseAlicea

https://plus.google.com/102685905279269159867

https://twitter.com/denisealicea

https://www.pinterest.com/denisealicea/

https://www.linkedin.com/in/denisealicea

https://instagram.com/aliceadenise

Purchase Fireworks: http://amzn.to/2bX8kj1

Fireworks will be $0.99 during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

My earliest memory by Nikki Andrews #sweet #romance

Today is my birthday, so I thought it would be appropriate to reflect on my earliest memory. Which birthday, you ask? Well, let’s just say I’m very happy with my retirement so far...

For a long time, I thought my earliest memory was of riding a pony in a ring beside a road. I remember the textures: the tooling on the saddle horn, the pony’s coarse mane, the incredible velvet of his nose. The luscious aroma of horse and leather. And I remember wailing with disappointment when I was lifted out of the saddle. My parents confirmed that this happened the summer I was two, which makes it a pretty early memory. They also claimed my first word was “forthy.” I’m not sure about that, but it’s true I’ve loved horses since babyhood.

Then, when I was 18, I went spelunking with some college friends. The cave was shallow, cool, well-explored, and damp, and we were properly equipped with ropes, helmets, and helmet lamps. At one point I was skootching on my back through a narrow passage when my lamp went out. It was rather scary, but the group leader called out to encourage me. I inched toward my friends’ voices and the glow of their lamps some thirty feet away. Relief flooded through me at the touch of their hands. We returned to campus exhausted, gloriously muddy and filled with the exhilaration of exploring.

That night and for many nights afterward, I dreamed of the passage. Over and over I slipped along through the moist darkness with tons of rock above my head. Sometimes the dream segued into other adventures on that outing--the drip of water, the flare of a lamp in my eyes, or “chimneying” up a vertical passage by pressing my back against one wall and pushing up foot by foot against the other. Over the next few months, as new experiences came my way, the dream faded.

About a year later it returned once more. Different this time. The passage was still wet, but now it was warm. There were light and voices ahead, but I was not making any effort. I simply…moved along. Most important, I had no fear. No thought at all. I existed in a timeless space, impelled by a strong, inexorable power toward whatever was to come. The next morning I realized that the cave experience had awakened a birth memory.

So yes, I remember being born. I remember the passage. The wetness, the warmth, the pushing, the sudden chill, then light and sound and warmth and comfort. And that’s all I remember. From that day to the pony ride, my memory is blank. The dream never returned, maybe because I had identified it, or maybe because I never went spelunking again.

It’s a remarkable memory--one I share with Ray Bradbury--and I like to think there is some sort of connection between the spelunking and the birthing. Something beyond the physical similarities. Maybe it’s something like this: there are passages in life. Some we choose, some we face willy-nilly, but all are challenging. Some are painful; some are smooth. We may resist going through them, we may be pushed, or we may have to repeat them. Sometimes the light at the end is hard to see or believe in. We may not remember what came before, and we certainly cannot know what will come after. With luck there will be light and comfort, but there is no guarantee. I wish I had some wise insight to offer, but I don’t. All I can say is that so far--so far--the passages have left me exhausted, muddy, and exhilarated.

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Art is not the only thing that can be FRAMED.

When a long-lost painting turns up at Brush & Bevel, a decade-old mystery is reawakened. What really happened to artist Jerry Berger and his model Abby Bingham? Was it a murder-suicide, as the police proclaim, or was it something far more sinister?

Gallery owner Ginny Brent and her loyal staffers, Sue Bradley and Elsie Kimball, each take a different path to unravel the mystery. Together, their discoveries start to form a cohesive whole. But as they get closer to the solution, they discover to their horror that art is not the only thing that can be framed.

 

About Nikki 

Nikki Andrews has worked as a picture framer, craft store clerk, and administrative assistant, but in her real life she is a writer, editor, and songmaker. She is a member of Talespinners and the New Hampshire Writers Project, and has published two science fiction novels and several short stories. When she’s not at her desk, she might be releasing salmon fry on the Piscataquog River, making jams or sweaters, or exploring her surroundings on foot, bike or snowshoe. She lives near a waterfall in New Hampshire with her wonderful husband, a possessive cat, and assorted wildlife.

Ebook available:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015JWZHWY

Print available: http://bit.ly/1PMnKCB

My blog: www.scrivenersriver.blogspot.com

Website: www.nikkiandrewsbooks.com

Email: nikkiandrewsbooks@gmail.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/nikkiandrewsauthor

Twitter: NAedits