Blog Tour & Giveaway: Everlasting by Tmonique Stephens

Welcome to the
EVERLASTING BLOG TOUR & GIVEAWAY

ETERNITY

Descendants  of Ra, #1

Cursed for 2000 years, Roman Nicolis has tracked his lovers’ soul through each reincarnation only to lose her horribly every time. Reclaiming their love is his only salvation. He’s been her friend, her father, her neighbor, but never again her lover . . . until now.

A late night walk home throws Stella Walker into the path of a killer. The last thing she remembers are the deep blue eyes of the man trying to kill her—and the first things she sees after a seven day coma are the same blue eyes in the handsome face of the man hired to protect her. Is he truly the owner of a security firm or the man who wants to finish her off? Is it fears she feels when Roman touches her or the memory of something sweeter?

Past secrets haunt them. An angry demon stalks them. 

Roman will do anything to recover what they once had. Though Stella’s ruined childhood has made her close her heart and body to any man, he must get past the walls around her to gain her love and trust, for it will take their union to defeat an unexpected enemy sent from the Egyptian Gods. A man Romans respects, and Stella trusts.

TWO HEARTS.ONE SOUL. FOR ALL ETERNITY.

Excerpt

Damn, he woke her. After only a few hours of sleep, she was sitting up, her head tilted back to catch the whiffs of air generated from the ceiling fan. She pulled the collar of the robe from her damp neck.

He closed his laptop, retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen and handed it to her. Perched on the edge of her coffee table, he waited while she rubbed the bottle across her sweaty brow and gave a throaty sigh before twisting the cap. Completely unaware of the sensual picture she presented, Stella tossed her head back, tipped the bottle to her lips and gulped until she drained it.

“How long have I been asleep?” She licked the moisture from her lips.

He ignored the lengthening poke of his cock. “A few hours. We need to talk.” Elbows on his knees, he leaned closer to her.

She paused, her eyes shifted around the room. “If not the most dreaded sentence in the world, it must be in the top five.” She took a deep fortifying breath and squared her shoulders. “Go ahead.”

She thinks I’m leaving her. He studied her until she squirmed uncomfortably under the glare. It galled to be lumped together with everyone else that hurt, left, and disappointed her.

“I believe you’re correct about the killings.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “You do?”

He nearly laughed. “Surprising, huh? Well you made a convincing argument and I’d be foolish to ignore the possibility.”

“So, you're leaving now,” she stated flatly.

Every muscle rigid, he sat back. “Do you have a death wish? “Cause if there’s someone targeting me, they’re using you to do it.”

Stella nodded solemnly while her fingers twisted in her robe. She chewed the corner of her mouth before she mumbled, “When do you leave?”

His thumb swept across her full bottom lip. When her cheek turned into his palm, his heart caved.

“I’m not leaving, Stella. I will never leave you. I said I would protect you. And I will.” He leaned closer. “With my last breath.” 

Her unflinching stare met his. “I want to protect myself. Will you show me how?”

A simple request. “Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll teach you.”

She leaned in. “Thank you.”

Temptation ate at him, but he stood and walked to the other side of the room. 

“Go back to sleep, Stella.” He turned off the lights, yanked his shirt over his head and stretched out on the creaking floor.

“Why are you on the floor?” Her voice wavered.

Graced with superior eyesight, he watched her struggling with the robe twisted around her body. “My back wouldn’t appreciate sleeping in that chair and its cooler down here.”

“I can’t see you.” Fear etched her voice.

The mattress squeaked and he heard the soft slap of her feet on the wooden floor.

“I’m right here.” He touched her smooth foot and circled her ankle.

She didn’t pull away, but waited until he removed his hand to climb back onto the futon.  She punched her pillow and settled into a comfortable spot.

“Roman, isn’t the floor hard?”

She sounded like a child asking a question when she already knew the answer.

“I’ve slept on worse and in worse,” he muttered.

“Umm … the bed is big enough for both of us.”

Did she know she offered him exactly what he wanted and where he wanted to be? “You're asking me to sleep with you?”

“I’m offering to share the futon with you.” She corrected.

Standing next to the futon, he whispered, “Why?”

She jumped, her hand stretched out in front of her, searching for him. “Damn, how can you move that fast? I didn’t hear you.”

“Answer the question. Why?”

“I … can't let you sleep on the floor.” She scooted over and waited for him.

He should resist. The many reasons why ticked by, but the futon creaked as he lay beside her and stilled. Everything he wanted rested inches away.

“Can you see me?”

“No.” He lied, watching her bite her lip. Slowly, she relaxed, believing the darkness covered her. He sucked in a sharp breath when her hand brushed his bare chest.

“Sorry,” but a smile tweaked her lips.

Stella’s words darted through his brain. “No boyfriends,” she told McCabe. It was too ridiculous to be true. But … could she be a virgin?

“Roman.” She breathed his name and lust raced down his spine, igniting every nerve ending and wiping his brain clean of every thought, but one. He caught the belt of her robe and followed it up to the knot. A finger slipped in and loosened it.

“Yes.” His breath fanned her face. She tilted her chin up at the perfect angle for his lips to cover hers.

“I’ve never had a man in my home before.”

His finger stopped, and withdrew. What the hell am I doing? She drugged him with her words, frailty and covered body. He had to get out of her bed, her apartment, maybe the city, let one of his men protect her.

She touched him again, ran her palm over his stubbled jaw, then traced a finger over his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose. She played with the shell of his ear until his chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. Then her fingers found his lips and the laughter stopped.

Available at: Amazon

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eternity-tmonique-stephens/1112725622?ean=2940015097443

EVERLASTING
Descendants of Ra, #2

Kill the beast.
Save your brother.
Win your freedom.
No problem.
Falling in love with the cop trying arrest you?
Problem.

To save his twin from death, Reign Nicolis will have to bargain with Goddess of the Dead, and once more become what he despises, El Mortem, The Scourge, a killer trained to show mercy to none. But he is haunted by those who have fallen beneath his blade. Their ghostly shapes dog his footsteps, relentless in their torture to make him suffer for what he was put on this earth to do two thousand years ago. Saving his twin ensures Reign’s enslavement to the Goddess. She may own his body, but never his heart.

Detective Alexis Lever’s career is in shambles. Her only chance at redemption is to discover what happened to the body of Daniel Nicolis. To do that she’ll have to thwart two men: Reign Nicolis and Roman Nicolis. Both belong in jail. But one has stolen her heart.

Excerpt

A force yanked Reign to a stop, reeled him back, and slammed him to the ground. Pain ripped through his head. The Vanquished, his personal army of demons, shrieked inside his skull. He’d thought Nephythys would have alleviated the curse so he could return quickly to her servitude. He wasn’t surprised fortune didn’t favor him. It never had.
For countries, for kings, and for emperors, he killed. To honor the Nicolis name, he killed. And to protect the one person he loved—his brother—he killed. Too many to count fell beneath his blade, but each victory came with a price.

Roman must return. Without his brother’s easy temperament to balance the darkness in Reign’s soul, the Vanquished ruled, and he would become a madman, no better than the beast he chased. Soon he would lose rational thought and descend into madness. He hadn’t traveled all this way to become the thing he would destroy. No. His fingers cracked the hard surface of the black ground, searching for earth to hold onto and center him. Sometimes touching the ground from which all things sought sustenance helped suppress the riot in his brain. But there was no dirt beneath the surface of this strange ground. An ashy, gray substance covered his fingers instead of fertile earth.

A distant whimper reached Reign and gave him the strength to turn his head a fraction. A woman stumbled from the house. She wobbled on unsteady legs. A wild, curly mass of hair obscured her view. She rested on one of the wooden columns. One wrong step and she’d trip on the scattered debris and tumble down the stairs. He had to get to her before she fell.

Fighting the invisible demons weighing him down, Reign forced himself to his knees. Then he crawled. With each step, the cries of the Vanquished lessened, replaced by calming silence. If he were pious, he would offer a prayer that she stay put until her reached her.

She pushed away from the column. Her knees buckled. Seconds before her skull would’ve smashed onto the ground, Reign materialized. He dove beneath her and absorbed the brunt of the fall.

Damn the gods.

The feel of her solid form blasted through his petrified center. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this. Human contact. The simple act of touching and being touched. Warmth and the softness of a woman. So long denied, now he feasted.

He buried his face in her mass of curly hair and inhaled jasmine and honey. A moan ripe with longing ripped from his throat and he fitted her lush curves more intimately to him. She shivered and her breath curled in the air. Gently, he rolled and let her slide from his arms to her back. The pale glow of artificial light bathed her face and he forgot to breathe. Something so lovely couldn’t be real. Wasn’t real. Touching her shouldn’t be allowed.

Desire to taste her luscious lips—this one time—dug its claws into him, and drew him near. He brushed her wild tresses from her face and stroked a finger down her cheek, leaving a bloody streak. A quick search and he discovered a gash on the side of her head. He hadn’t saved her. And while he pawed her like an untried youth, she lay dying.

Available at:  Amazon

Tmonique Stephens wrote her first novel about a reporter and a hockey player after the U.S. hockey team won gold in the 1980 Olympics. She loves writing flawed characters who reflect the emotional baggage we all carry. She writes complicated stories for complicated people. Paranormal romances and fantasy novels are her favorite genre. She will read anything about fairies, demons, or angels.  She also enjoys Stephen King and Dean Koontz.

She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing from City College of New York where she won an English Department Award for her play Tea with Salt in 1987.

She was born in St. Thomas USVI, but she grew up in The Bronx, New York one mile from Yankee Stadium. She loves SyFy and the History channels, and Asian cuisine. But her heart and stomach longs for anything from the Caribbean.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/TmoniqueStephens

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Tmoniquebooks

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Email: Tmoniquebooks@gmail.com

GIVEAWAY

Tmonique is giving away FIVE copies of EVERLASTING at the end of her tour

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