Monday, September 19, 2016

Cover Reveal Saturday September 24th

I've just had two of my covers updated and I think they're absolutely beautiful. I thought I'd have a cover reveal on Saturday 12:00PM EST (NOON).  All you have to do to participate is like my author page on Facebook
and leave a comment about the covers. I'll be choosing winners for ebooks and posting them at 8:00PM EST.

The two books I've had covers done for are Timeless and  Whisper In My Ear. Both books are paranormal romances. But neither is just a straight genre. Timeless has some science fiction in it and Whisper In My Ear has some Urban Fantasy.  Here are the blurbs and some excerpts so you can get a taste of what they're like.  I'll put in some memes to wet your appetite too.


Archaeology student, Regan Stanhope, lands the chance of a lifetime when she’s chosen to work on a summer dig in Loch Maree, Scotland. The ancient monoliths hidden beneath the loch are the most important discovery since Stonehenge. And for seven hundred years, they have been waiting—for her.

Saturation diver Quinn Douglas is contracted to recover some of the megaliths from the loch’s bottom. The job will breathe life into the struggling salvage business he and his brothers are building. But from the moment he arrives, Quinn is plagued by dreams and feelings from a past he did not live. Or did he?

Regan and Quinn are drawn to each other as they research the monoliths and the reason behind their shared visions. But both sense something mystical at work, delving into their minds, manipulating their emotions. And when they finally discover the monoliths’ extraordinary secret, they know they must seal them away from those who are desperate to unlock their power. Even if it means remaining caught in a timeless struggle between the past and present forever.


“I don’t want to see you sacrifice yourself for a ring of rocks.”
“I won’t.” Coira’s promise to Braden came to mind. What if Quinn was right about Coira? A chill raced through her. She shivered.
Quinn reached for her. His fingers cupped the back of her head as he held her close.
The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear soothed her even as the caress of his fingers against the back of her neck did the opposite. She drew back to look at his injured hand. His lips brushed her forehead.
“Are you in pain?” she asked. “Not with the hand.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him. His expression, so somber, so serious, triggered feelings of both tenderness and sadness. She caressed his cheek. “Why can’t we get this right?”
“I don’t know.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m afraid for you. It makes me daft.”
The way his face looked transposed over the skull at the preservation lab came to mind. She shuddered and pressed close. “I am for you, too, Quinn.”
The soft tempting pressure of his mouth upon hers fed the need for more. As their tongues touched and twined she molded herself against him. It came as natural as breathing to share her lips, her tongue, her touch. His breathing was as ragged as hers as he broke the kiss.
“I need to take a shower and warm up,” she said, her voice swamped by so many different emotions it was impossible to sort them.
“I do, too.” His husky tone, sounded somewhere between a growl and a groan. He slid the zipper of her dry suit down. Regan wiggled free of the sleeves. He cupped her breast through her thermal underwear top, and she bit back a sigh as her nipple beaded beneath the pressure.
She ran a hand beneath his t-shirt to follow the contours of his stomach.
Quinn’s stomach muscles rippled and he caught his breath. “Jesus, Regan.”
She chuckled, hooked her fingers over the waistband of his jeans and tugged him toward the hall. “We can share the shower. I’ll wash your back, if you’ll wash mine.”
Quinn raised one thick black brow. “I can do that.”
His tone promised more, and Regan’s cheeks grew hot and her limbs weak. Her heart raced.
His green eyes, intent and dark, focused on her face. “I’ve had a recurring dream about peeling off your dry suit since that first night.”
An airless feeling blossomed beneath her ribs. “Now’s your chance,” she teased as she backed into her bedroom.

She slid back upon the bed and offered one leg.
A grin spread his lips as, one handed, he pulled first one boot free, and then the other. When he tugged on the first suit leg, the thermal underwear pants beneath went with it. Regan wiggled free of the other leg leaving her lower body bare except for a brief pair of bikini panties. He slung the dry suit over her desk chair and turned to run his gaze down the length of her legs.
Regan bit back a groan at the almost tactile response she experienced from the look on his face.
He dragged the sling from over his head and tossed it aside. He braced a hand on the bed to lean over her and rested his injured hand just above the briefs. His touch trailed downward over her mound to the inside of her thigh. Her fingers gripped the bedspread as titillating arousal nestled between her legs and settled like a feverish ache inside her. His name came out a choked whisper.
“How bad do you want that shower?” he asked as he shucked his t-shirt.
As her gaze swept the width of his chest and shoulders, the hair on his chest and the narrow line that disappeared beneath his jeans. Her mouth grew dry at the dark masculine beauty of him, and she swallowed. “Not at all compared to how bad I want you inside me.” She dragged the thermal shirt over her head baring her breasts.
Quinn’s eyes focused on them, and she ached to have his hands on her again, thereall over.
He popped the button on his jeans and peeled down the zipper.  


Injured as a child, mermaid Katrina Lawson has adapted to living on land among humans. Denied the comfort of her water world, she’s stripped of her ability to transform and to hear. But the promise of a cochlear implant offers her a ray of hope. 

Drew Saunders is a creature no woman can resist: mystical, magical and musical. With a hum he can seduce women and make them slaves. When he meets Katrina he’s enthralled. But being unable to hear, she’s impervious to his charms. So he must work to build a relationship with her the human way.

Katrina’s doctor suspects there is more to her than scans and x-rays can detect. His obsessive fascination with her, places her and all aquatic species at risk, forcing her to make a horrible choice. Can she sacrifice the only true love she’ll ever know for the good of her species?


“You smell so good.” Drew’s throat worked as he swallowed. His irises expanded and his tricolored eyes darkened with heat. “I can control some of it, but not all.”
The scent of his arousal intensified her need as powerfully as his voice did the human women he entertained. “I felt uncomfortable witnessing what you did to the other women.”
“Was that why you left?” He brushed her hair back over her shoulder, his fingers lingering against her bare skin as he traced the spaghetti strap over her shoulder.
Though his touch was light, the sensation it created trailed down to her breast. Her nipples tightened. Need writhed inside her, stealing her voice. Incapable of speech, she nodded.
“I don’t force it on the audience. They keep coming back of their own volition.”
“It’s an intimate intrusion,” she managed around the tightness of her throat. “And you’re using them.”
“No more than they’re using me. It’s a symbiotic relationship.”
Why couldn’t he understand what she was saying?
Realization hit her with the force of a tidal wave. Because it wasn’t in his nature to think he was doing anything wrong. He was a Siren.
In an attempt to break away from the sensual spell he wove, she spun away and put one of the straight-backed folding chairs between them.
His features, so definably masculine, became harsh. “What is it?”
“Can both your parents hear?”
“Did your father seduce your mother with his voice? Or was

it the other way around?” God, she hated this frustrating backward two-step preternatural beings did when it came to sharing information about themselves or their families.
“My mother doesn’t sing. Not the way I do.”
“It was your father, then?”
“Not entirely. They’re both...” He hesitated, “...special.” What did he mean by that? Why couldn’t he come out and

tell her?
He turned his head to look at the door. “The guys are calling

me. I have to go change and get on stage. Are you going to stay for the show?”
She had promised him she would. But the need to put as much distance between them as possible stretched and clawed at her. Sirens weren’t exactly known for their deep relationships, or their faithfulness, only for their gift of seduction. And Drew had a strong gift.
If she stayed, would she be strong enough to resist him? Did she even want to?
Yes, she had to resist.
All the things that might happen if they gave in to one another raced through her mind. The good and the bad.
The response he triggered merely by standing close should be enough to warn her off. Her entire body ached with the need to press herself against him as tightly as she could get and let nature take its course.

He stepped forward until his knees rested against the chair seat. “Your scent is delicious, Katrina. I can almost taste it.”
His words painted a picture of his dark head between her thighs, his mouth on her. She tried hard to block it off. A sexual heat raced down from her head to her fingers and toes.
Drew’s cheeks flushed and his eyes darkened. “We have to discover where this can go.”
Her fingers tightened on the slick metal back of the chair, bearing down on it until the metal became hot and pliable. “We both know where it can go. It could be a disaster.”
“Or a blessing,” he countered. “Just give us a chance to get to know each other.”
She closed her eyes against the sensual persuasion of his masculine features, his muscular body, and tried to block out the scent of his need.
If Sid, in his human selfishness, couldn’t remain faithful to her, Drew Saunders in all his Siren glory certainly couldn’t. She needed her head examined. She was probably going to regret this.
“All right. I’ll stay.”

I hope you enjoyed the excerpts.
Join me on Saturday the 24th and check out my new covers and possibly win an ebook just from leaving a comment. 

Read on,
Teresa Reasor  

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