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Natalie let me know yesterday that the Supernatural book from BenBella is already on Amazon!



Allie tagged me with this meme.

Rules:
I am going to list three categories of books: 5 MUST Read Books, 5 Books on Your Nightstand, and 5 Look For These Soon. Anyone I tag should put these same lists on their blog but SUBTRACT one book from each list and ADD one of their own. (I've highlighted my additions) Then they should tag at least 5 more bloggers. It will be fun to see how the lists change as it goes around the blogosphere. Please come back to this post and leave a comment so I can see how the lists are changing as they go around the blogosphere!

(Since this is Book Buzz…please keep your lists to titles released in 2007-2009.)

5 MUST Read Books:
Not Without Her Family by Beth Andrews
A Mile in My Flip-Flops by Melody Carlson
Cast in Stone by Kerry A. Jones
Yellow Moon by Jewell Parker Rhodes
Conception by Kalisha Buckhanon

5 Books on the Nightstand:
Last Dance at the Jitterbug Lounge by Pamela Morsi
Nightswimming by Rebecca James
Pleasure by Eric Jerome Dickey
From Harvey River by Lorna Goodison
Trading Dreams at Midnight by Dianne McKinney

5 Look For These Soon:
Wanted by Shelley Shephard Gray
Just One of the Guys by Kristan Higgins
After the Fire: A True Story of Friendship and Survival by Robin Gaby Fisher
Midnight: A Gangster Love Story by Sister Souljah
A Firefighter in the Family by Trish Milburn

And I'll tag these 5 bloggers, if you want to take me up on it!

Trish
Natalie
Mary Beth
Marianne
Gina

My very good friend Linda Winfree has a book coming out today from Samhain. Check out the reviews and blurb! Very emotional stuff!

Available TODAY from Samhain Publishing.

A Fallen Angels Review Recommended Read

"Ms. Winfree’s skill at putting emotion into words is nothing short of genius, she had me laughing, crying, cheering and just a little hot...Anyone that reads Hearts Awakened will not walk away unaffected..." -- Rachel C., FAR Reviews





It’s not the past that wounds us…it’s the ghosts we hold onto.



Hearts Awakened by Linda Winfree

Book Six of the Hearts of the South series



A lifetime ago Mark Cook’s pregnant wife vanished, taking everything and leaving an empty, aching hole in his life. Since then, as penance for his failure as a husband and father, he’s refused to allow himself to live. Refused to lay his sleeping heart on the line for any woman.



Enter Tori Calvert, his best friend’s baby sister. Suddenly, against his will—and against his better judgment—that same damaged heart seems determined to reawaken. And Mark’s not sure he can withstand the pain.



When she was a teenager, a vicious attack ripped away Tori’s very essence as a woman. Finally she feels ready to focus her existence on something other than her job as a rape crisis counselor. And to step outside the shelter of her loving, protective family. She trusts Mark more than any man, yet fear holds her back.



Fear that even the healing light of love may not be enough to banish the shadows of the past.

**

With the bathroom light offering slight illumination, Tori lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Outside her window, car doors slammed and disembodied voices moved along the sidewalk. Another car cruised through the parking lot, a spotlight flashing briefly against the heavy drapes. In the room on her east side, the television droned.

She hadn’t heard Mark’s door or his moving around in his room. Restless, she flopped over in the bed. The blanket pulled at her belly button ring and she winced, rubbing the spot. Above her, a deep voice rumbled, followed by a roll of male laughter.

The red numerals on the clock radio glowed. After one in the morning. Where was he?

Like she had to ask. The idea caused a painful clench in her chest and she rubbed at her gritty eyes. Pushing the covers aside, she padded to the window and perched on the ledge to peek between the drapes. Nothing moved in the parking lot. No vehicles traveled on the street.

A figure stood silhouetted on the sidewalk facing the bay. A familiar male build, arms at his sides, head slightly bent. The ache in her chest increased and she clutched the edge of the drape. Everything in the line of his body spoke of intense pain and misery.

Go to him.

“I can’t,” she whispered. He didn’t want her comfort or help. What he wanted was easy, anonymous sex. He was right—he wanted the one thing she couldn’t offer him.

As she watched, he lifted his head and turned toward the motel. She froze, not wanting him to see her watching. Soft footsteps shuffled on the walkway. His door opened and closed, and she breathed a slow sigh of relief. At least he’d come back alone. He hadn’t brought the other woman, whoever she was, with him.

The other woman. Tori shook her head. For there to be another woman, a relationship had to exist, and it definitely didn’t.

His television clicked on and the volume dropped quickly. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He was on the other side of that partition, getting ready for bed.

“Stop thinking about that. He’s back, and he’s alone. You can go to bed now. He obviously is.”

She slid from her perch on the window ledge. She’d grab a glass of water and go back to bed, try to get some sleep.

As she passed the second bed, her right foot caught the corner of the platform, under the bedspread. Pain exploded in her toes. She yelped, bent over with the force of the agony moving up her leg in waves.

Clutching her injured toes, she hopped on one foot and bit back a moan. Lord, that hurt.

“Tori?” Mark knocked on the connecting door, his voice sharp with concern. “Are you all right?”

She couldn’t speak, tears blurring her vision, her energy focused on breathing and fighting off the burning pain.

Blood leaked between her fingers. Biting her lip, she dropped on the end of the bed, rocking back and forth.

“Tori?” If anything, his voice was sharper, a note of alarm creeping in around the edges. “Tori, I’m coming in.”

Whatever. He could walk to Timbuktu if he wanted. All she wanted was for the throbbing in her entire foot to stop.

“What’s wrong?” He knelt in front of her, his hands running over her. Checking for injuries. She recognized that much. “Tori, what happened?”

His voice wavered. She shook her head, still clutching her foot. “My toes.”

The sharp gray gaze dropped to her foot and he swore. He cradled her heel in his palm. “Let me see.”

“Hit them on the bed.” She forced her fingers to let go. Blood dripped on the carpet.

He lifted her foot. “Oh, honey.”

One strong finger probed at the side of her toe and she sucked in a breath. “Ouch!”

“I’m going to get a towel and some ice. Hang on a sec.”

Gently, he set her foot down and rose to return to his room. In seconds, he was back, carrying two towels and his ice bucket.

“Here.” He lifted her foot again, wrapped one towel underneath and placed the second, filled with ice, along the top of her toes. She flinched. “I know,” he said, his voice soothing. His fingers moved over her ankle in a comforting caress. “It’ll feel better in a sec.”

Under the numbing cold, the pain receded slightly and she stared at him. Barefoot and resting on his haunches, he still wore his khakis, but he’d shed his polo shirt. A fine layer of dark hair covered his chest and formed an arrow down the line of his stomach. A small tattoo lurked between his pecs, an infinity swirl angled to the left, over his heart. He rested her foot against his thigh, muscles rippling beneath her heel. Her breath stopped, but this time it had nothing to do with pain. Her fingers tingled. What would it feel like if she traced the tattoo, ran her hands over his chest? Were those muscles as hard as the ones in his arms?

“Wiggle your toes for me.” She did, her gaze on his hands touching her. Deft and gentle, his fingers moved over her foot and shivers trickled through her, almost making her forget the burning pulsing. “I don’t think anything’s broken. You have a cut, but it’s not very deep. We can clean it up and put a bandage on it.”

“Thanks.” Warmth traveled out from his touch, an odd contrast to the numbing cold at her toes. He glanced up at her and all the warmth died. Deep pink lipstick smudged the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward, she swiped it away with her thumb. “Did she make you forget?”

He froze, staring at her. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. I mean, I didn’t…” A hard swallow moved his throat. “I couldn’t.”

A trickle of icy water dripped down the side of her foot. Tori moistened dry lips. “Why not?”

“Because it didn’t feel right. Because it’s not working anymore. She probably could have made me forget Jenny for a little while…” Another swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But she couldn’t make me forget you.”

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/authors/linda-winfree