Thursday, July 28, 2016

Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things by Martina McAtee

Title: Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things
Author: Martina McAtee 
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb: 17 year old Ember Denning has made an art of isolating herself. She prefers the dead. She spends her days skipping school in old cemeteries and her nights hiding from her alcoholic father at the funeral home where she works. When her own father dies, Ember learns her whole life is a lie. Standing in the cemetery that’s been her sanctuary, she’s threatened by the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen and rescued by two people who claim to be her family. They say she’s special, that she has a supernatural gift like them…they just don’t know exactly what it is.
They take her to a small Florida town, where Ember’s life takes a turn for the weird. She’s living with her reaper cousins, an orphaned werewolf pack, a faery and a human genius. Ember’s powers are growing stronger, morphing into something bigger than anything anybody anticipated. Ember has questions but nobody has answers. Nobody knows what she is. They only know her mysterious magical gift is trying to kill them and that beautiful dangerous boy from the cemetery may be the only thing standing between her and death.
As Ember’s talents are revealed so are the secrets her father hid and those in power who would seek to destroy her. What’s worse, saving Ember has put her cousins in danger and turned her friend’s lives upside down. Ember must learn to embrace her magic or risk losing the family she’s pieced together.
Martina McAtee lives in Jupiter, Florida with her teenage daughter, her best friend, two attack chihuahua's and two shady looking cats. When she isn't writing young adult books about worlds with reapers, zombies, werewolves and other supernatural creatures she's reading or watching shows that involve reapers, zombies, werewolves and other supernatural creatures. Her debut novel Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things released in August of 2015. Her second book in the Dead Things series, Dark Dreams and Dead Things, will release July 15, 2016.
Author Links: Facebook: www.facebook.com/MartinaMcAtee1
Buy Links: #Free with KindleUnlimited
Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things: http://amzn.to/1Z4L4NH Dark Dreams and Dead Things: http://amzn.to/1Z4KVtH

Sentinal's Tear by Christine Fonseca

Title: Sentinal’s Tear
Author: Christine Fonseca
Genre: YA Gothic Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: As if casting out demons isn’t hard enough, five-hundred-year-old Nesy has to masquerade as a teenage girl to do it.
Nesy is the best of an elite group of angels – warriors called Sentinals – charged with the job of vanquishing the fallen. She’s never made a mistake, never gotten emotionally involved. But when she comes face-to-face with Aydan, she freezes.
He is evil incarnate. A fallen angel that feeds off the souls of others. Everything Nesy is supposed to hate.  But she can’t, because he’s also the human love of her former life as a teen; a life that ended too soon, tying her to emotions she should never feel. Now she must choose between doing her duty – damning Aydan to the fiery depths of hell – or saving him, and condemning herself.
Tagline: Some sacrifices should never be made—even for love.
Award-winning and critically-acclaimed author of fiction and non-fiction. Lover of books, lattes, and family. Passionate about humanity. Recent titles include Transcend, The Solomon Experiment series, and Emotional Intensity in Gifted Students, second edition.
When Christine isn’t writing a book, she can be found sipping too many skinny vanilla lattes next to a beach with a book in her hand.
For more information, visit her website – http://christinefonseca.com.
Author Links:
Buy Links: Amazon: http://amzn.to/2a4YXZ9
Chapter 1
Nesy
I shift in the booth, careful to remain hidden in the shadows. My human form feels foreign, awkward. Nothing about tonight’s assignment seems right; not the constant thoughts echoing through my mind nor the everpresent feelings I can’t seem to shake.
I tighten the muscles across my back, desperate to escape the confinement that comes with this new body. One I never wanted.
My senses register each scent, each sound, adding to the noise of too much mental chatter already ricocheting in my head. Sweat and too-strong perfume from the tangled mix of bodies on the dance floor burn my nostrils. My heart pounds against my ribs and unfamiliar twinges of fear cloud my vision. Feelings I can’t decipher crawl through my skin, sending chills throughout my body.
I may have prepared for this task, but nothing could prepare me for being a seventeen-year-old girl.
Again. 
I slip further into the booth, surveying the scene. Lights pulse around me, synchronized to the blaring sounds that pound from the speakers. Clubbers sway to the music in intoxicating rhythms, casting a spell throughout the room.
And somewhere in the crowd lurks the one I came for—the UnHoly. 
I narrow my eyes, taking in the irony of the church-turned-nightclub. Tall, gothic arches adorn the ceiling. Old stone sculptures of saints and angels watch the hordes of teens gyrating on the dance floor. The altar, once a sanctuary, now houses a stage where up-and-coming bands woo adoring fans. The remaining spaces are punctuated with small alcoves designed to hide the club’s true patrons: dark creatures that feed on the lust and fear of the human crowd.
My task is simple enough: find the UnHoly and vanquish him to the Abyss. Just like the countless other assignments I’ve had over the past few centuries. But something about this task feels wrong. Something that sends fresh shivers cascading down my very human spine.  
Little information was given to me about my target, only his name, location, and human age. I’d have to figure out the rest. No problem, since vanquishing the UnHoly is my specialty; whether I’m stuck in a teenage body or not.
I take one last sip of water and recite my plan:
One: Find the UnHoly.
Two: Lure him away from the crowd. Don’t want to ruin my perfect record with collateral damage.
Three: Cast him out.
What could go wrong?
Satisfied, I settle my thoughts and prepare for battle. The sooner this is finished, the sooner I can ditch this body and escape the chaos it brings. My human form may look similar to my angelic being, with its familiar blond hair and blue eyes. But I hate being trapped in this flesh, stifled by the heaviness of this body. I miss feeling the air move through my wings and play across my skin. More than anything else, I miss the quiet solitude of my mind; no emotions to muddle my thinking, no angst to cloud my judgment. Necessary or not, I’m never masquerading as a teenager again.  
I smooth out my clothes—black leather skirt, black tee, leather jacket and boots that stretch up my long legs—and approach the altar-turned-stage.
“Hi there,” I say to the stooge blocking my entrance. I lock eyes with him, tipping my head slightly. I may not like being human, but I do know how to use this body to get what I want. “Is Aydan here tonight?”
The would-be guard swallows hard.
Perfect.
His gaze rakes over every inch of me as his lips part slightly. He swallows hard and smirks. 
Oh yeah, he’s easy. “So? Is he?” I purr.
He fumbles over his words. “Um, yeah. The band performs in a few minutes. Want me to get him for you?”
I think about it for a second, picture my plan in detail. “No, I’ll try to find him after his set.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find you. You’re just his type,” the guard says.
Of course I am.
The lights dim and I take my position in front of the stage. Four dark shapes emerge from the shadows. The band. I scan each one as the crowd fills in behind me.
Heavy sounds from the bass guitar and drums send the horde into a frenzy. I move with the crowd and continue to search. Which one is he? The drummer? Nope, he’s definitely human. The guitarist? Maybe. He’s too dark to be fully mortal. Too demonic.
But he’s also far too weak to be the UnHoly.
I scrutinize the rest of the group. He has to be here. I couldn’t have made a mistake.
I don’t make mistakes. Not ever.
A single spotlight focuses on the lean silhouette of the lead singer; a teenage boy who’s definitely more than human.
There you are.
He’s taller than I expected, wearing clothes that match my own—black jeans, a black sleeveless shirt open just enough to see his smooth pale skin, and black boots. His chiseled muscles and dye-job-black hair hanging in an unruly mess add to his allure. But it’s his eyes that draw my attention. Amber with flecks of gold.
Mesmerizing, dangerous, and…
Familiar. Too familiar.
I bite my lip, my mind racing. Aydan, the only apprentice to the Dark One. Feared by angel and demon alike. He’s rumored to stop at nothing to procure anything and everything his master wants. Judging by the way he hypnotizes the crowd of unsuspecting teens with his voice and eyes, I have no doubt that the rumors are well-earned. More than dangerous, Aydan is lethal.
And just my type.
I check out the club, looking for the best way to lure him outside. He’s managed to elude capture for more than four centuries. Clearly he knows how to avoid the likes of the Sentinals, the likes of me. But not tonight. Not with this body.
I focus my attention back on him as he finishes his song. There is no evidence of his true nature reflecting in his features; no fangs or claws to signal danger. No sulfur-scent or bloodlust. No proof of the evil that lurks just under the surface. Nothing except the black bat-like wings curving across his back, hidden from everyone.
Well, almost everyone. Not expecting me, are you?
His voice intoxicates the crowd. The hunger in his eyes reveals his true intent. Aydan is on the hunt.
Two can play at that game.
I notice a small door at the end of a corridor adjacent to the stage. No doubt it empties to the alley that flanks the church. Perfect. Now, to get him outside before he chooses one of the screaming girls as his prey.
Aydan finishes his song as I make my way around the stage and toward the hall. I watch as he turns away from the crowd.
Almost time.
The horde screams for him and begs the band to continue.
Aydan grabs the mic. “Do you want more?” he yells. Their response, a cacophony of “Yes!” and “We love you, Aydan!” rings through the rafters of the once-holy building.
I watch as he works the mob into a craze. Voices blend away. The scene shifts. All I see, all I hear, is Aydan. An unfamiliar current of electricity streaks through my body, causing my heart to beat wildly against my ribs. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stiffen with anticipation while anxiety fills my senses.
This can’t be happening.
I force my heart to slow and shove aside the silly human reactions.
The guitarist starts to strum a ballad. A light frames Aydan as he begins to sing in slow, rhythmic phrases. He scans the crowd, a predator looking for his prey.
Time stops and he turns to me. Our eyes lock. A smile pulls at his lips.
My skin erupts in gooseflesh. My legs begin to wobble. His smile broadens and for a brief moment I forget how to breathe.
Strange sensations inundate my thoughts. My abdomen clenches and my body trembles.
His stupid mind tricks are working. On me.
Not acceptable.
Chapter 2
Aydan
The crowd is wild tonight, hordes of kids desperate for a little action. The perfect hunting grounds. Maybe that’s why I stick with the band—the free food.
My senses pick up the distinct scent of vanilla and warm sugar. My favorite. I feel the craving start at the back of my throat. I have to find the source of that scent and drink from her soul.
Soon.
The lights drop as I sing a slow melody. The rhythms are smooth, seductive. I watch the girls drop their defenses and feel their desire rise.
Scanning the crowd, I search. My need grows as the seconds pass. Every girl strains to look at me and through their eyes I see their need, taste their lust. It floods my senses, nourishing me.
But the feeling is temporary, just enough to awaken the Beast within and force me to continue the hunt.
My eyes settle on a girl near the back of the crowd, sandwiched between the stage and a narrow hallway. She’s different from the usual patrons of the club. Beautiful—long blond hair, legs that seem to stretch forever, and curves that make me ache. But it isn’t her beauty calling to me, or her distinctive vanilla scent.
It’s the mystery.
Her desire fills me. Not only desire, something more. Something angry and dangerous. Something that awakens the core of my being.
I stare into her eyes and ride her emotions as they crest. I sing my lyrics only to her. Our worlds collide; nothing exists but the two of us.
She closes her eyes, obviously trying to break the spell I’ve cast. But I know it won’t work. No one can get away from me. I’ve had centuries of practice.
I continue to sing, weaving a trap around my target. She stares at me, an almost pained expression etched into her features.
You’re mine now.
A flood of emotions fills me, chaotic and wild, desperate. Her feelings, her passion. The taste is addictive and I know I can’t resist her. I don’t want to.
The song ends as my frenzy grows.
It’s time.

The Masterpiecers by Olivia Wildenstein

Title: The Masterpiecers
Author: Olivia Wildenstein
Genre: YA/NA Mystery
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb:
Nineteen-year-old Ivy Redd’s talent with a needle and thread has earned her a spot on a coveted reality TV art competition set in New York’s Metropolitan Museum. The prize: a significant amount of money and instant acceptance into the Masterpiecers, the school that ensures new artists fame and fortune. Her talent has also thrust her and her twin sister, Aster, into the spotlight.
Not that Aster needed help with becoming a media favorite. She managed that on her own by running over a wanted mobster. She told the police it was self-defense, because she couldn’t tell them the truth—the truth would make her sister look bad.
Locked in an Indiana jail to await her trial, Aster watches Ivy on the small TV hanging in the dayroom. It’s the highlight of her day, until she finds out what her sister truly thinks of her. Then, observing her sister becomes a punishment far crueler than imprisonment.
Olivia Wildenstein grew up in New York City, the daughter of a French father with a great sense of humor, and a Swedish mother whom she speaks to at least three times a day. She chose Brown University to complete her undergraduate studies and earned a bachelor’s in comparative literature. After designing jewelry for a few years, Wildenstein traded in her tools for a laptop computer and a very comfortable chair. This line of work made more sense, considering her college degree.
When she’s not writing, she’s psychoanalyzing everyone she meets (Yes. Everyone), eavesdropping on conversations to gather material for her next book, baking up a storm (that she actually eats), going to the gym (because she eats), and attempting not to be late at her children’s school (like she is 4 out of 5 mornings, on good weeks).
Wildenstein lives with her husband and three children in Geneva, Switzerland, where she’s an active member of the writing community.
Author Links:
Buy Link:
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
 
"Our mother used to say that Ivy sucked all the good from the womb and I was left with the scraps. I hate to think she was right about anything, but my twin sister is exceptional.
“You’re going to do so well,” I tell Ivy, squeezing her hand.
“No touching,” barks the guard watching over us.
It’s just the two of us in the visitation room.
Ivy yanks her hand out of mine. “I don’t know about so well, but I’m going to do my best.” She links her fingers together in a business-like manner. “Has Josh come to see you yet?”
“No.”
“He told me he spoke to your warden about letting you watch the show. You have his permission to look at it whenever you want.”
I give her a weak smile. “That’ll be the highlight of my day.”
She runs her nail underneath the peeling, synthetic wood surface of the table.
“I’m happy you came to see me,” I say.
Her gaze sticks to the tabletop. It’s as though she doesn’t dare look up at me. I think she’s afraid to cry. “Was it really an accident, Aster?” Her voice is so faint that I have to strain to make out her words.
“Yes.”
“You promise me—”
“Yes,” I say. “Stop worrying about this. By the time you come home, it will be ancient history.”
She bites her lip.
“Now go make history,” I tell her."

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Loving Ashe by Liz Durano

Title: Loving Ashe
Author: Liz Durano
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
Three years after her childhood sweetheart left her for his Hollywood dream, can a celebrity romance with British heartthrob Ashe Hunter get Riley Eames' life moving again?
A booty call. A stuck elevator. A chance to move on.
When Riley Eames agrees to meet her ex-boyfriend in his hotel room “just to talk,” she knows it could only mean one thing – a booty call.
But three years after he left her to pursue his Hollywood dream, she’s determined to get answers to the questions only he can answer – until she finds herself trapped in the elevator with charming British actor, Ashe Hunter, who’s in town to promote his latest movie.
But a celebrity romance may not be enough to get Riley’s life moving again, not when the answers long kept hidden from her are finally revealed, and letting go just might be the last thing she can ever do.
Though Liz studied journalism in college, she discovered that she preferred writing romantic fiction over news and ad copy. She lives in Southern California with her family where she spends her days writing, chasing after her 6-year old, and stepping over Legos.
Author Links:
Buy Link:
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
“Twenty questions,” Ashe said softly as Riley snuggled against him, both of them facing the window. More than twenty-four hours since they both stumbled into her apartment after a beautiful night out on the town, it was drizzling.  Water trails made their way down the window panes, casting shadows across their bodies lying on the bed.
Riley didn’t have to glance at the clock to know that dawn was approaching. They’d fallen asleep after the third time making love–the third time of crying out his name as she came, her voice growing hoarser with each gasp, each moan, each breath that left her lips. Her body was spent, though her spirits soared every time he touched her, kissed her, and pulled her towards him. She loved the way he looked at her when he made love to her, the way he buried his face in her hair, his fingers interlaced with hers that told Riley he was really there, and he was really seeing her.
He was baring her.
“Can we just start with five?” Riley asked. “I’m usually the one who asks the questions.”
“Why are you afraid of being asked similar questions you had no problems asking me?”
“I just prefer to ask them.”
“Don’t you think that’s unfair?” His voice grew lower, teasing.
“Yes, it is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Because I’ve made my mistakes, and I don’t want to be judged because of them.”
“Do you believe falling in love is a mistake?” he asked.
“Only when there’s no guarantee that it’ll last forever.”
“Nothing last forever, Riley. But would you have wanted the last…relationship to last forever?”
She sighed. “You ask hard questions, Ashe.”
“Please answer the question, Riley. Would you prefer thatrelationship to last forever? Gareth?”
“In hindsight, no,” she replied. “He would have betrayed me anyway. If not in L.A., then right here in New York. Or anywhere for that matter.”
“You’re uncomfortable,” Ashe said. “Would you want me to stop asking questions?”
Riley turned to face him, marveling at the color of his eyes. So blue, darkening whenever he frowned. She shook her head. “It’s only fair that you get to ask the questions.”
“Even if it makes you uncomfortable?”
“Maybe it’s time for me to stop feeling too comfortable,” Riley replied as she turned to lay on her back. Ashe still had his arm around her, his other hand supporting his head. “I’ve been hiding from the truth for so long. If not drugs, then I did it by working too much. And I still do.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“The truth–the awful, ugly truth that people hide behind their lies, their smiles,” she replied. “So sometimes I don’t even try asking the questions that need to be asked. I’m afraid that I’d find out the truth and it’ll hurt. And I’m afraid of being alone.”
“But you’re not alone. So many people love you.”
“Then why do I feel lonely?”
“Are you feeling lonely now?” Ashe asked, frowning.
Riley shook her head, forcing a smile before sighing. This was exactly what she feared. The truth. But she might as well say it for in the morning, he’d be gone, and he’d probably forget all about her.
“No, right now I’m fine. But when you go–and you will go–then I will feel lonely. But I’ll be okay,” she said, looking up at him, serious now. “Any more questions?”
Ashe frowned. He was studying her face as if he was taking in every curve of her cheek, every line that would have told him she really laughed more than she cried. She was a barista after all. And baristas needed to be happy.
“Ask me if I ever feel lonely,” Ashe whispered. “Go on.”
“Do you ever feel lonely?”
“Sometimes,” he replied. “And I never felt as lonely as I did when I first met you in that elevator. Two people standing in a box, yet so distant. So alone, and so apart from each other. You on your way to something that would connect you with your past–”
“I had changed my mind then.”
“–and me walking away from people who wanted me only according to what I could do for them,” he said, smiling drily.
Riley turned to look at him. Before this, they’d lain on the bed on their sides, still facing the window with her back to him. But she needed to see him now, to see his face, his eyes.
“Is that why you started talking to me?” Riley asked. “To make a connection to something else? Something more real?”
“Someone, Riley. Not something. And you’re more than real. You’re the real thing,” Ashe said, kissing her forehead. “You made me smile my first real smile that day.”
“Well, I can be comedy relief,” she said softly though Riley didn’t laugh. There was something in his words that tugged at her.
“Well, there’s that,” Ashe chuckled, rolling onto his back as Riley turned to face him, half on her side and half leaning against him. His fingers played with her hair, pushing a lock away from her face or twirling it around his long fingers. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Riley. Never forget that.”

Thursday, July 21, 2016

More Than Forever by Mary B. Moore

Title: More Than Forever
Author: Mary B. Moore
Genre: Contemporary Romance, RomCom
Cover Designer: S Van Horne
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
Luke Montgomery never forgot Isla Banks after she left Piersville. When she came back he knew that he finally had his chance to show her that this was the real deal.
After his accident, believing the worst, Isla goes to Singapore to represent the Montgomerys business and to heal her broken heart.
Waking up to find Isla gone, Luke starts to plan how to fix the damage to their relationship. Watching as she becomes ill thousands of miles away, he knows he has to be by her side.
After an attempt on his life back home, he takes Isla and hides in Indonesia determined to protect her and their future from whomever is set on killing the Montgomerys.
Back home the sabotage continues and after the attempt on Brett's life, the Prices and Montgomerys have joined forces to track down who is responsible, but finding people who don't want to be found proves easier said than done.
I've always been an avid reader and writer, so when my best friends (three males who drive me closer to insanity daily) dared me to publish, in fact triple dared with no returnseys, I couldn't say no - the forefits are always painful. Deciding to shelve all of the work I'd ever done and to and to start with a new project was my best idea though, at least I think so. After being on the brink of insanity many times, I'm delighted to confirm that I came out of it with my dignity still intact.....just!
I'm the daughter of diplomats who has lived all over the world and you'd be hard placed to figure out where my accent is from - it's a Heinz 57 variety accent. My poor child has also picked up my accent and vocabulary, which is predominantly American I guess.
My projects so far include a contemporary romance series called the Providence Series and its subseries called Amity, an MC series that I'm excited about called Luthers Vengeance and also a paranormal series that I'm still planning out.
For now, though, it's all about the romance……
Author Links:
Buy Links:
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
Forever Mine (Providence #1): http://amzn.to/2a8KLAX
I could see that they immediately recognized my last name. Right now I didn’t care what they were thinking, I just wanted Isla to wake up and to hold her.
“Okay Mr Montgomery, you may stay. Could you go and stand over there please,” the Doctor pointed towards the end of Isla’s bed. “You can still see her; we just need some space to do some small tests.”
Walking down where he’d pointed I watched as they took her blood pressure and pulse. Just as they were writing down the information her eyes started to flutter and slowly opened, looked around and then stopped on me. I couldn’t wait anymore and walked around to where the Doctor had been standing before he went to look at some of the monitors attached to her.
“Angel,” I bent over and kissed her forehead, inhaling the smell that was just Isla. God it felt so good to be close to her again, even the pain in my leg didn’t feel as bad around her.
I was so busy with my thoughts that I never saw the hand coming up towards my face until it slapped me harder than I thought her little hand could.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

The Devil's Beauty by Airicka Phoenix

Title: The Devil’s Beauty
Author: Airicka Phoenix
Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
Expected Release Date: July 19, 2016
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
Dimitri Tasarov has never had a choice in what he was. From infancy, he had been raised with the knowledge that he was a monster, an unlovable creature without a soul, until a single act of kindness threw his entire world into a tailspin. 
Ava Emerson had always led a reluctantly sheltered existence. Friendship was a luxury that came with questions she couldn’t afford to answer. 
They were an unlikely pair. He lived behind his mask and his roses, and she lived behind her secrets, yet they shared a bond that could get them killed if anyone ever found out. 
Times were changing. The city was in turmoil. The weak were unprotected and someone needed to make a stand. But Dimitri wasn’t the only one with eyes on the north, or Ava, and they will stop at nothing to claim them both. 
Can Dimitri keep Ava safe, or will the devil fall?
Airicka Phoenix lives in a world where unicorns, fairies and mermaids run amok through her home on a daily basis. When she's not chasing after pixies and rounding up imps, also known as her four children, she can be found conjuring imaginary friends to play with. Airicka is the prolific author of over eighteen novels for those who crave strong, female leads, sexy alpha heroes and out of control desires. She's a multi genre author who writes young adult, new adult and adult contemporary and paranormal romance. For more about Airicka and the realm she rules with an iron fist--and tons of chocolate--visit her at: www.AirickaPhoenix.com
Author Links: Website: www.AirickaPhoenix.com
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Ui1eCF
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Robby broke the silence that followed. “What just happened?”
The buzz had regained through the room. Curiosity punctuated with questions and glances at Ava that she ignored.
“I need to go,” she whispered to no one in particular.
But she grabbed Robby’s hand and dragged him along with her through the maze of rooms, down the seemingly endless corridors. Her heels clacked in sync with the tempo of her pounding heart. It was his turn to run to keep up.
“Ava, what—?”
“Don’t ask questions,” she warned him. “Promise me.”
Robby frowned. “But what—?”
She skidded to a halt and faced him, her chest rising and falling rapidly against the front of her dress. “I’m about to trust you with the most important thing in my life, the biggest secret I have ever kept, and I am trusting you because you are my best friend and I need your help.”
The crease between his brows deepened. More lines appeared at the corners of his mouth. His gaze shot past her to the hallway leading to John Paul’s office, then back down to her.
“Tell me who that was first.”
His hand slipped from her grasp. She took a step back and his eyes narrowed.
“I can’t. I can’t tell you anything.”
“But you want me to trust you.” It wasn’t a question.
Ava nodded. “Yes.”