Thursday, April 23, 2015

Fatal Obsession by Christina OW

A man obsessed, a mysterious women with amnesia, and a murderer.

After a hot weekend with a mysterious woman, Damien Chan did not expect to get a frightened phone call from her, begging him to save–what? who? The call is cut before she says it. The next thing he knows, he’s become obsessed with finding her and saving her from the man that had led to their first meeting. But he never expected to find her in his cousin Dale Carson’s house… as his wife!

She finds out her nightmares are actually memories of her past life… the life of a murderer. Could she truly be the deranged Ellsa Jabari who’d almost added her own sister Ellie to the list of people she’s killed?

Amnesia can be a real bitch!

Get your copy here

Christina OW writes suspense, thrillers, erotica, interracial and multicultural romance books. She is the author of Contemporary, Fantasy, Paranormal, Regency Romance books and a poet of currently 3 titles. She loves reading novels that take her on a ride of wild emotions. Books have always been an escape for her, for a few hours she gets to live the lives of characters she grows to cherish and admire. She's always had an active imagination and because of it has lived in her head more than she has been in the outside world. She always imagined scenarios and wondered how they would turn out in the end, and what kind of emotions they would invoke. Thus began her writing career.

Author Links

Long Excerpt 

His lips spread in a beaming smile that reached his wide brown eyes. And yet again she was hit with a sense of familiarity. DJ eyes suddenly grew saucer wide and his smile was face splitting.
“Daddy!” he yelled, making her ears ring for a second. He wiggled vigorously in her arms, effectively slipping out of her hold. She’d barely lowered him to the ground when he pulled away and took off running behind her.
“DJ!” she yelled, turning to chase after him. She froze.Tasha watched as DJ launched himself at a man and the stranger quickly caught him, coming out of his own stupor. She watched them speak, DJ so animatedly and the stranger cautious, with a ghost of a smile on his lips, though his eyes still held surprise. His eyes roamed DJ’s face questioningly and then it was like a light bulb went on in his head and he quickly turned to look at her. His eyes, his gaze on her made her gasp and she took a step back. God, she only wished she knew why, or remembered why! Even more, she wished she knew the revelation he’d just come upon because she sure as hell wanted to know what was going on. Why did she feel so hot under his gaze? Why didn’t she feel even the slightest twinge of fear as the stranger carried her son? And why did her son call him daddy? The stranger looked just as surprised as she did by DJ’s claim.What was Tom keeping from her?The moment the man took his first step to her, she suddenly felt the fear that was absent flood into her. She took several steps back until her back slammed into her SUV. The stranger stopped right in front of her and if it wasn’t for DJ he would have pressed up against her, she was sure of it.“How’ve you been, Victoria Secret?” he asked with a breathy whisper.“What?” she whizzed out. Why the hell did he make her feel so breathless and light-headed?“It’s Daddy, Momma. Don’t worry, I already told him you don’t remember anything. You didn’t remember me until I reminded you, right Momma?”Not looking away from the stranger’s swirly brown eyes she muttered, “Right, DJ.”The stranger turned his head slightly toward her son, but he too never broke eye contact. “DJ, what’s that stand for?”Little hands slapped onto his shadowed cheeks then forcefully turned his head. Tasha looked at DJ too.“How do you not know that?” DJ accused. “It’s a nickname for Damien Junior or Damien James.”Something flickered in the stranger's eyes before he smiled broadly making Tasha’s heart stutter. That’s where she knew the smile came from. And those swirly browns… she’d been looking at him for five minutes and now was when it hit her. She looked between the two and her breath caught in her throat—dear God!No, no! DJ truly wasn’t Tom’s son.“Of course I didn’t forget—Damien James Chan.”DJ’s proud grin matched the strangers, “Just like you.”“Yeah, just like me, except for one thing. James is your grandpa’s name, your momma’s daddy.”Those words rang in Tasha’s ears and she felt herself slide down the SUV, her vision filling with dark spots and finally, complete darkness.

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Thursday, April 2, 2015

Release Day for The Doom of Undal Dragon Court Series by Katrina Sisowath

Available from 5 Prince Publishing
Genre: Fiction, Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology, Fantasy, Historical
Release Date: April 2, 2015
Digital ISBN-13; 978-1-63112-106-7 ISBN 10:1631121065
Print ISBN- 13; 978-1-63112-107-4 ISBN:10 :1631121073
Purchase link :

The Doom of Undal
The Dragon Court has ruled Tiamut uncontested for millennia, bringing knowledge and prosperity to all. 
Yet all is not as it seems---far to the West in the land of Undal, mightiest of the nations, the Royal Queen and her children are struck with a mysterious illness and perish. Was the Dragon Court responsible?  Or had the Queen had been experimenting with dark magic?
Her grieving son, trained in the dark arts by the goddess Eris herself, swears vengeance.  When he defies the Dragon Court and they rescind their blessing on his royal house, he must turn to his mother's experiments and ancient blood rituals to achieve his aims.  In his quest for truth he will become the greatest threat Tiamut has ever known.  
With details pulled directly from Plato (yes, THAT Plato), The Emerald Tablets of Thoth, Sumerian and Egyptian mythology, The Doom of Undal tells the story of the Fall of Atlantis.

About Katrina Sisowath
Katrina Sisowath ,née Little, (1979--) was born in Frankfurt, Germany to an English father and American mother. Her formative years were spent in South-East Asia before returning to England to finish her studies. Deciding to follow in her father's footsteps, she enrolled in a University in China hoping to become a Mandarin-English translator. Visiting her father in 1999 who was living in Cambodia resulted in her meeting her future husband, settling down and opening a preschool. The couple have since chosen to return to England for their daughters' education.
On a personal level, Katrina is an avid book reader and loves mythology, history (preferably together), ancient civilizations and anything to do with occult ideologies and practices. Mages, Serpent Priestesses and the 'real' Gods, aka the ANNUNAKI(the prototypes for those we know today in the form of Greek, Roman, Indian and even the Biblical characters) are all addressed on her website, with, of course, descriptions of Dragons, consciousness altering drinks and powders and what the scarlet clad priestesses really got up to in their sacred chamber
Her first book ‘Serpent Priestess of the Annunaki’ was released by 5 Prince Publishing on June 19, 2014 and quickly became an Amazon Bestseller. The Doom of Undal pt 1 is the second book in the Dragon Court series

How to reach Katrina Sisowath
Twitter: @ksDragonCourt
Facebook: The Annunaki and the Dragon Court

Excerpt of The Doom of Undal

Chapter One

“Shhh” said a childish voice in a faint whisper, “It’s time to wake up.”
The sleeping figure emitted a strangled gasp as it re-entered the world of the living, jerking its head to the side to wriggle out of the grip of the hand currently clamped over its mouth and nose. After a sharp inhalation followed by a long exhalation, the now wide awake body sat up to reveal a child, looking very much like the one standing by the bed.
“Rhea, what were you thinking? You know I hate it when you do that.” said the child in a hiss, her curls bouncing in rhythm to each syllable uttered, as if in agreement with her statement.
“Sorry, but you said to wake you up if Great-Great-Grandma passed by, and she has, with that strange old man Sobekh says is our Great-Great-Great Uncle,” Rhea rejoined, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor, looking very much the penitent.
Just then their older sister whispered from the doorway, “Will you two hurry up? We’re going to lose them.”
With that, the two younger sisters scrambled as quickly as they dared on bare feet, hoping their great-great-grandma’s notorious sense of hearing had not detected them.
The three girls were pri

ncesses of the Royal Dragon Court of Magan: Sobekh-Nefru was the eldest at eleven, and so the future Queen, ruling Magan alongside their brother Chifu. Hathor was eight and Rhea, the baby of the family, five. The three were blessed with full heads of dark curls that glinted red in the sunlight, eyes as green as emeralds and skin the color of prized cedar wood. They were intelligent, curious and vivacious, with tempers that flared if provoked and subsided just as quickly. They questioned everyone and everything, which was a source of stress to their tutors and nurses, but were defended by their venerable ancestress, who was very ancient indeed, having outlived her own grandchildren. No one had quite explained why she was so old, or how she had lived so long yet appeared younger than her own parents, but she was the only one to whom the three sisters, for reasons unknown even to them, were always respectful and obedient.
And now they were trailing after her through the darkened hallways and grand rooms of the Royal Palace, stalking her as though they were lions hunting their prey. To an alert guard, they would have appeared as shadowy figures, emerging for the briefest of instants under the flickering light cast by the torches set at intervals, only to meld back into the darkness. But, such an alert soul, if he had seen the phantom figures, would have raised no alarm, figuring the venerable old matriarch would deal better with them than the captain of the guards.
So they passed, starting and stopping with equal force, until they saw the two figures pause at a wall at the end of a hallway which suddenly began to slide back, revealing an even darker hallway. The man coughed, struck the end of his staff on the floor and the top began to glow. The venerated couple proceeded to move into the hidden passage.
Rhea began whimpering, “I don’t want to go anymore, I want to go back to bed.”
“Come on, we’re almost there, don’t be such a baby,” said Hathor, in a voice harsher than intended, covering her own fear at the unexpected development.
“You two go back to bed and wait for me, I’ll go on and see where they are going,” Sobekh valiantly volunteered, not wanting to pass this opportunity to see what lay inside, but also considering two frightened girls as being more of a hindrance than help, not to mention increasing the chance of discovery.
The two little ones did not need to wait any longer; they turned and ran as fast as their little legs could carry them, the pitter-patter of their feet echoing in the empty rooms and passageways. The guard smiled to himself hearing the familiar echoes, this particular ritual having been enacted since Princess Sobekh was seven years old, her sisters having joined her but recently.
Sobekh calmed her nerves and stepped into the darkened chamber just as the wall began to slide back. This was the first time she had seen the wall move, having always followed Great-Great-Grandma Kispu Saran at too great a distance, which meant that she had inexplicably vanished every time Sobekh had turned the corner—until now.
She followed the vanishing glow of the staff, holding her hands out to each side to prevent herself from stumbling. The walls and the floor were smooth and cool to the touch. She surmised it had been dug out of stone but it was without so much as an indent or raised bump to disfigure it. The level of craftsmanship was apparent even without the use of her sight. Her love of beauty and perfection overriding her concern about her safety, she let out a sigh. At that, the glow stopped flickering and became a steady light, the two ahead having stopped. Sobekh held her breath, fearing discovery, but after a moment they began to move again.
Eventually she realized she was on a gentle downward slope, the pressure increasing around her and the heat intensifying. She wondered where it led to and why her relatives were there. As she moved along, she tried in vain to feel for a shaft that led away from the passageway in hopes of finding an air current or escape route, but there were none.
The passage came to a sudden end; opening up to an octagonal room with cubicles carved into each side in the rock itself. The glow was gone but there was enough light from crystals embedded in the roof of the chamber that cast an eerily beautiful glow, like that of moonlight, throughout the room. Each cubicle contained an object that appeared to be made of gold; the floor was comprised of black and white tiles laid in a cross grid pattern and in the centre of the chamber there lay an altar, made of a single block of pink stone.  Further examination revealed the tiles to be made of onyx and quartz, while the altar was of moonstone, the same stone that had been fashioned along with lapis lazuli into her crown.
She walked slowly around, perceiving there was no one in the chamber with her: the objects were beautiful, but of the same sort used in religious ceremonies she’d known all her life. Why it was hidden in this subterranean room was beyond her comprehension, after all the risk and discomfort she’d gone through and the fatigue she’d suffer through her lesson this day, it was a disappointment to find nothing more salacious than a chalice, Athame, shuhadaku and paten. Belatedly she recalled the two she was following and looked about to see where they might have disappeared to.
As she came to the far side from where she entered, she noticed a crack where two walls met, and pushing the one that seemed to lay ajar ever so slightly, found that it swung open, revealing a slope leading upwards. A stream of fresh air hit her as she stepped through, invigorating her, and lessening the weariness she felt as she began to climb. Upon reaching what appeared to be a landing, she saw two large rooms, one on either side. The one on the right was a vast library, while the one on the left a laboratory. Pausing to consider which room to look at first, she heard two voices further up the slope. Curiosity regarding her relatives overcame her love of scrolls and so she pressed on. The light changed as she walked, the first hint that dawn had arrived.
She came to a large room with two windows at the far end cut in a peculiar shape. Shading her eyes against the sudden influx of light she failed to notice the two figures directly in front of her.
“Where have you been? We were just about to come look for you,” said Kispu Saran, with a vague hint of a smile playing at her mouth.
“You knew?” Sobekh managed to stammer after a quick glance at both to determine in what manner of trouble she was, and how she might escape.
“It never fails to amuse me, this certainty of each generation, that they are the only ones capable of such subterfuge and night-time escapades,” said the man.
“Sobekh, this is my brother Magi Ningi, your uncle so many generations ago, even I have lost count” Kispu Saran said, a hint of formality alerting Sobekh to be on her best behavior.
“Greetings, most illustrious one,” Sobekh bowed
“Come child, it is wonderful to see you again, when last I saw you, you were but a babe in your mother’s arms. We have so much to talk about,” Magi Ningi said with a welcoming smile, kissing her on both cheeks and once on the forehead, as was customary amongst their family.
Sobekh looked around, her relief at the apparent reprieve restoring her usual audacity and at last she was compelled to ask, “Where are we?”
“Ahh, come and look,” replied Magi Ningi, bringing her to a window. Looking out she beheld the mighty Nile flowing past, but could not determine which building they were in, or whether they were in front of, behind, or to the side of the Royal Palace.
“I can’t tell what this building is, are we in a pyramid?” Sobekh finally admitted, hazarding a guess.
“We are in the secret depository of our sacred texts and my final resting place” Kispu Saran said, shuffling over, “We are in the western Statue of Sirius, and the Three Pyramids are over there. The palace is to the northeast, upriver.”
“Why is it secret? I saw only our normal temple objects below.”
“Because my dear, we have experienced much in our lifetimes that you will learn about now you are of age. What humanity perceives as change, growth, strange or new, we who have lived through many ages know to be cycles. In these cycles there is much to gain and much to lose. With power comes threat and there are many who seek to take from us what we have. My brother and I will not be around forever and so to protect our legacy we have stored these objects and texts here. That way, if Magan is overrun by enemies and the Temples destroyed, this will still be here.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“As the future Queen, it is your job to protect your people, your country and your lineage. These ceremonies and objects are the heart of who we are and you must remember to protect them always.”
With that, they slowly began to move back down the tunnel pausing only to allow Magi Ningi to walk into his laboratory and gather a scroll before rejoining them on their descent.
When they reached the chamber, Sobekh allowed herself to look more thoroughly at the beauty of the room. The crystals now flickered softly with a hint of rose, as at dusk. It was peaceful in its majesty rather than intimidating as the Temples of Youth and Life were.
A quiet movement woke her from her reverie; the altar slid to one side, a darkened crypt gradually revealing itself. Sobekh stared in fascination as a serpent slithered out and began to glide up Kispu Saran’s legs, to her torso before settling around her shoulders. Kispu Saran whispered something in a language Sobekh vaguely recognized but could not comprehend. The serpent began to slither again, Kispu Saran extending her arm towards Sobekh until their hands touched allowing the serpent to wind its way up Sobekh’s arms. Sobekh hesitated for a brief moment, before relaxing under the calming influence of the two elders. Magi Ningi held up a jar of alabaster to the light as if inspecting it for flaws, then, seemingly satisfied, offered it to Sobekh to look at, motioning with his hands to open the lid. As she did so, a puff of smoke blew into her face and her world went dark. She fell back as the figures of her ancestors receded as though through a tunnel.
Thus it was she did not feel the bite as the serpent sank its fangs into her neck, or the two pairs of hands catching her as she swooned, gently laying her to rest in the soft plush bed in the crypt, or see the altar close back overhead.

Release Day for Fatal Obsession by Christina OW

Available from 5 Prince Publishing
Genre: Fiction, General, African American, Mystery & Detective, Romance
Release Date: April 2, 2015
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-102-9 ISBN 10:1631121022
PRINT ISNB 13: 978-1-63112-103-6 ISBN 10:1631121030
Purchase link :

Fatal Obsession
She finds out her nightmares are actually memories of her past life… the life of a murderer. Could she truly be the deranged Ellsa Jabari who’d almost added her own sister Ellie to the list of people she’s killed? Amnesia can be a real bitch!

Bio for Christina OW:
I’m the last of my mom’s three girls and I’m also a twin (she is an author too). It’s a lot of fun playing tricks on people with my twin sister. We did so a lot when we were younger but not so much now. We were raised by my mother and we owe her so much and try to make her proud every single day.
I would rather curl up on the couch with a book than go out which also means I’m not into the night life. My pajamas are my best friend because they are so comfortable and only dress up when I go out if there is a good chance I’ll meet a hot guy! 

Author Contact Info:
Facebook: Christina OW
Twitter: @christina_ow

Excerpt from Fatal Obsession: 
Chapter One
Summer 2006
Damien Chan pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose to give his eyes a clear view of the beauty that had just crossed in front of him on the other side of the pool. He hadn’t expected—well it was Miami and seeing beauties pool side was the norm of each day, but this one... there was something special about this one. He could tell by the way she walked in her six inch strapped sandals that exposed perfectly pedicured toes and sturdy ankles. There had to be a secret to balancing in those neck breaking heels and look so mouth watering doing so. He never understood why women tortured themselves trying to look taller, but he gained a whole new appreciation for the neck breakers. His eyes travelled up from the silver charm anklet that sat seductively around her ankle, to her caramel stiff shaped calf that spoke of how fit she was. 
Damien loved a woman who kept fit. Nothing jiggled and she had a combination of tight and soft in all the right places.
His eyes journeyed up to her thighs—Damien smiled to himself—toned and jiggle free. Just the way he liked them wrapped around his waist.
Her thighs rounded up into a perfect ass partially exposed by the white swimsuit she had on, but tastefully covered by the see through thigh high robe that rode slapdash on her shoulders. The bottom of her swimsuit had golden circular hoops at both sides of her waist bone, clearly the only things holding the bottom pieces together. Very Victoria Secret like. 
Damien shifted uncomfortably on his lounge chair. The bottom half of her had him so hard already he had to raise his knee to hide the evidence. 
She turned around, giving him a back view of her body. He wished she would—
“Yes!” he whispered with a discreet air punch.
The flimsy robe slide down her arms so fluidly, like a gentle caress and pulled at her waist before she tagged it completely off and tossed it on the lounge chair. Damien had never felt so jealous of a piece of clothing before. What he would give to be that robe! 
Her back was exposed, except for the thin straps that tied behind her neck and across her back to hold up the swimsuit. She had what looked like a delicate back, the outlines of her shoulder blades were visible and so was the hollow deep between that led to the round curve of the small of her back to the top of her ass. She had what looked like a tattoo there, but her dark complexion and the distance made it impossible to tell.
“Holy…” Damien breathed when she turned around. 
It was official. He’d just spotted the sexiest woman in the world. Someone call the Guinness records guys! Such perfection should not go undocumented. Every male species needed to see her, for generations to come! 
The top part of her suit tapered up to what looked like a three inch piece that sat along her belly up to meet the bikini top part of the suit. Those two girls were also tastefully hidden, with just the right amount of boobs slipping out. He could already imagine pressing his face between those babies. 
He moved up to her visible collar bones, to her long swan-like neck, up her chin, slightly smiling lush red lips, button nose and— 
She’d caught him staring and now she was staring back with a certain glint in her eyes as she lowered herself onto the lounge chair. He held her gaze and for a moment, Damien thought she was challenging him. Did she think he wouldn’t hit on her because she’d caught him staring? Or was she challenging him to do so, so that she could shut him down, publicly humiliating him?
Damien clenched his jaw as his temper flared. He hated conceited chicks who thought their obvious beauty made them better than everyone and any guy would be lucky to be seen with them. He’d made that mistake of dating a girl like her once; he was certainly not going to make it again.
He’d come here to enjoy himself and plough through as many women as he could to get over his stupid broken heart. And as much as he wanted her to be his big finale—because she would be the perfect lay for the last day of his two-week vacation—being a conceited bitch disqualified her.
He broke their gaze and turned away just in time to see a big white bald oaf charge at her. It was clear he was after her—his gaze was locked on her and his powerful heavy strides spoke trouble. Victoria Secret was the only one who looked worth the trouble in the whole place. Damien turned back to her. She was still staring at him, not at all sensing the danger. How could she not? Everyone else on her side of the pool seemed to have created a cautionary distance.
The oaf stopped next to her, grabbing her arm and yanking her up. “Vladimir vants you now!” he barked.
The woman just gave him a bored look, nonchalantly taking her arm out of his hold. She bent to retrieve her robe, sparing Damien a look that said something, but he wasn’t sure what before she sashayed away, walking with no urgency despite the oaf’s grumbles behind her.
What was that look? He wondered before he asked himself why he cared.
She seemed quite comfortable being the girlfriend of a Russian mobster. Another assumption, yes, but he’d been a cop too long not to be able to recognize the type.
His cop instincts wanted him to check them out but… “I’m on vacation. I’m not here to work or end up in a shootout over a girl. They are the feds problem anyway.”
He pushed his glasses back in place, crossed his wrists behind his head and went back on the hunt to find his finale girl.