Showing posts with label Silver Dagger Book Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Silver Dagger Book Tours. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

"Casino Girl" by Leslie Wolfe

Casino Girl
(Baxter and Holt Book 2)
by Leslie Wolfe

Casino Girl (Baxter and Holt Book 2) by Leslie Wolfe

Casino Girl is the second book in the Baxter and Holt series by Leslie Wolfe. Get your copy today for only $0.99. Also available: Las Vegas Girl and Las Vegas Crime (pre-order now, releases 16 November).

Las Vegas Girl by Leslie WolfeLas Vegas Crime by Leslie Wolfe

Casino Girl is currently on tour with Silver Dagger Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

In Las Vegas, secrets are deadly.
Detectives Laura Baxter and Jack Holt are members of the elite: Las Vegas Metro PD, one of the toughest and most respected law enforcement agencies in the United States. In the middle of a city with two million residents and 43 million annual visitors, they’re hunting for a killer.
The girl
When a beautiful, young girl is killed in the high-roller Pleasure Pit of the exclusive Scala Casino, the news reverberates for hours among the ritzy clientele. Before taking the stage where she found her death, Crystal was last seen boarding an unmarked helicopter for a late-night flight to an unknown destination.
The money
The stakes are high at the roulette table, and the players are hot-blooded. Among them, a stone-cold killer watches, waits, and kills without leaving a single trace of evidence. Rien ne va plus but death.
The game
The name of the game is murder, and it doesn’t stop with Crystal’s demise. Anyone who threatens to expose the killer’s identity will soon find they’re being targeted.
In Las Vegas, secrets can kill.
Two mavericks make an intriguing team. Baxter and Holt trust each other with their lives, only not with their darkest secrets.

They’re called quasi-strippers.
They don’t really bare it all, like real strippers do behind the darkened glass doors of specialty adult clubs, but they aren’t exactly fully dressed either while they perform.
Crystal preferred the term exotic dancer. Five nights a week she took the small stage at the center of the high-limit blackjack tables, in the glamorous Scala Casino. Five nights a week she danced and smiled and undulated her perfect body to the rhythm of sultry songs, carefully chosen to lure the gamblers’ attention away from the cards and the ever-diminishing stacks of their chips. In the background, nothing is more Vegas than the Scala Casino floor, filled with a million noises, dazzling lights, and excess adrenaline. Nothing is more alive.
That’s where she belonged, among the glitter and the gold, the glitzy and the rich.
She wore strappy lingerie with black and gold lace accents on beige silk, designed to trick the mind’s eye into believing she was naked. Black, knee-high stiletto boots completed her attire, her black, garter-belt straps attached to them, sexy and kinky and fun. The appreciative looks she basked in that night told her she’d chosen her ensemble well. It was going to be a profitable evening.
The familiar music seemed a bit too loud, making her wince, a little dizzy. She grabbed the pole tighter, aware she was dancing out of rhythm, but knowing the customers were too far gone to notice. It was almost four in the morning, and by that time, most of them were pleasantly inebriated, high on their own excitement and maybe more, living the Vegas dream.
The only danger was that asshole, Farley, a fat, lewd pig who liked to scream at the girls, giving them a hard time for everything they did, right or wrong regardless. Two minutes of being late or changing clothes mid-shift and she’d get pulled inside the pit manager’s office for another scolding session.
But she held her head up during those moments, aware they were going to pass and even more aware they were meant to intimidate her into offering sexual favors in return for a privileged work atmosphere.
Oh, hell, no.
Not ever. Not even if the prick turned blue in the face from too much screaming, or his waiting-to-happen stroke knocked him dead right before her eyes.
But even Stan Farley was looking away that moment, focused on a newly arrived high roller who’d taken a seat at one of the blackjack tables with a view of the stage. She didn’t know that one, but judging by the way Farley fawned over him, he must’ve been someone important.
Someone rich.
Someone who didn’t care that the odds at his blackjack table were stacked higher against him, just because the table came with a view of full inviting cleavage and tight little buns.
She felt beads of sweat bursting at the roots of her hair and forced some stale air into her lungs. Maybe the air conditioning was off, or something. The cigar smoke made it almost unbreathable, but it was an acceptable tradeoff for being allowed to work the high roller pit, not some fifty-cents-minimum roulette floor, where the tips were always Washingtons, never a Franklin and rarely a Lincoln, and not a whole lot of them to count at the end of a shift anyway.
No, she’d been lucky, and her luck had started to play in her favor about a month after she’d been hired. For that she probably had Devine to thank.
Her sweaty palms made it difficult for her to get a good grip on the shiny, chrome pole, but she managed a back hook spin and landed facing Devine. Her best friend danced some 30 feet away, on a small, elevated stage set among four, high-limit, roulette tables.
She waited until she could make eye contact with Devine and waved discreetly at her best friend. Just seeing her smile back made her feel less lonely, less vulnerable. Maybe she was going to be okay. Maybe things would work out after all.
Without realizing, she put her palm on her belly in a soft, caressing gesture, aimed to comfort the tiny sparkle of life growing inside her. She wasn’t showing a baby bump yet, but soon that would change, and with it, her entire life as she knew it.
She skipped out of rhythm again, but soon snapped out of her trance, motivated by Farley’s mean glare. She focused on her customers for a while and, within a few minutes of smiling provocatively and wiggling her rear, a crisp fifty-dollar bill landed under the thin strap of her thong, delivered by long, hairy fingers that reached lower and lingered longer than was necessary.
Sometimes she was happy the payout was 6:5 instead of 3:2 on a blackjack at the tables facing her; those jerks deserved to pay.
But she smiled at the man who’d delivered the tip and mocked a reverence without letting go of the pole. Then she let herself fall into a back bend and frowned when she saw Farley was approaching.
“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?” he snapped, after grabbing her arm and pulling her close. The music was loud, and no one could hear his words; not that anyone would care if they did. “Could you be bothered to do your job tonight? A deaf penguin has more rhythm than you.”
“I’m working it, Stan, what the hell? I haven’t taken a break in two hours.”
“The hell you are, bitch. You see those bozos? If they’re looking at their cards instead of your ass, you ain’t earning your keep.”
He let go of her arm and disappeared before she could say anything. He was a two-faced creep; with her and the other girls he showed his real charm. For all the patrons and the rest of the Scala staff, he was a perfect gentleman, always dressed in an impeccable suit and starched, white shirts, pleasantly smiling and accommodating.
She knew better than to let him get under her skin.
But her head was spinning, and she held on tight to the pole, not as part of her routine, but for much-needed balance. The music changed, and she welcomed the new beat, one of her favorites. She knew the playlist by heart; the casino had a limited supply of premixed tracks, but the customers didn’t seem to care.
Cheers erupted at the table in front of her, and one of the players lifted his arms in the air, beaming. The croupier pushed an impressive pile of chips in front of the man, and she quickly flashed her megawatt smile and made lingering eye contact. He didn’t disappoint; he picked one of the chips and sent it flying her way. She caught it gracefully, then placed it on the floor, next to the pole. Her barely-there panties weren’t made to hold casino chips.
When she looked up, she startled.
It was him. It was Paul, and he was furious, by the angle of his eyebrows, by the deep ridges flanking his mouth.
He stood right there, next to her stage, glaring at her with a loaded gaze filled with such hatred that her breath caught. He beckoned her to come closer without making a single gesture. She approached him hesitantly and crouched to bring their eyes on the same level, aware not even Farley would dare say a word. She shot a quick glance toward Devine’s stage, but she was gone, nowhere in sight.
His eyes drilled into hers, close enough she could see his dilated pupils. Without a word, he shoved a purple and white chip deep inside her bra, then grabbed the thin strap, pulling her closer to him. He said something, keeping his voice low and menacing. She couldn’t make out his words but didn’t dare to ask. She wanted to explain herself, wanted him to understand her motives, but she couldn’t find her words.
She didn’t want his money, and she didn’t deserve his anger.
When he finally let go of her strap and pushed her away, she almost fell. Her knees were shaking, and she felt the urge to sit for a moment, to catch her breath. She grabbed the pole tightly and did a clumsy back slide against the shiny surface, landing hard on her butt, then folded her legs to the side. She let her head hang low, and her long, wavy hair covered her face, hiding the fear in her eyes until it subsided a little.
Then she wrapped her hands around the pole again, planning to stand and do a pirouette, but her arms and legs felt numb, listless. She tried to breathe, but air refused to enter her lungs. Frantic, she looked around, searching for someone, anyone, who could help. Only one man was looking at her, but her desperate and silent plea was misunderstood.
The man licked his lips, arranged his crotch with a quick gesture, then looked away at another dancer.
She gasped for air a couple of times, then the bright lights of the casino seemed to dim, inviting darkness to engulf her view of the lively floor. Silence came, heavy, palpable. Against it, not even her own heart beats could be heard.
Defeated, she let go. Her body landed on the stage floor with a loud thump that no one heard. Unnoticed, a white and purple casino chip fell out of her top and rolled onto the floor, stopping under a table.
For a long moment, Farley thought the immobile pose was part of Crystal’s routine, some new dance move that she was trying. Customers really enjoyed seeing girls crawling on the stage; it made the viewers feel powerful, superior, in control. By the time Farley realized he’d been wrong, she was already gone. His chubby fingers felt for a pulse and found nothing.
Now he’d have to call the cops and close the pit. His worst nightmare.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
“This was well thought out and really a good mystery. The story unfolds little by little, making you want more. It has murder, powerful people who believe they can do anything they want, greed, revenge and self preservation. The characters are all interesting with their own set of secrets each, that Baxter and Holt have to pick through layer after layer to find the killer. There are several twists that keep you guessing. There are no misspelled words or grammar mistakes, or filler pages, which makes this a pleasure to read. I sincerely hope we see more of Baxter and Holt in the future. Another well thought out and well written story by Leslie Wolfe.” ~ PWA
“This story will take your breathe away! Leslie Wolfe has become one of my Must Read authors. […] I would highly recommend this book if you like thrillers.” ~ Cheryl Pompilii
“This book has it all: murder, mystery and intrigue! Not only is there a great plot, there are several good subplots masterfully woven in. There is no shortage of suspects - everyone from another dancer to billionaires. This thriller moves along at a decent pace from the beginning and will keep your attention until the end.” ~ Gabi Rosetti
“Satisfying murder mystery with continuous twists and turns. My kind of book. A really good sequel to Las Vegas Girl. Best to read it first for more info on the relationship between Baxter and Holt. Good editing, which is greatly appreciated. No fillers, long paragraphs. I read it in one day. Looking forward to the next sequel. Love this duo!” ~ Astrida M.
“Bestselling author Leslie Wolfe weaves another great mystery, thriller and suspense, with intriguing twists and turns that will easily captivate the reader’s attention from the beginning. The author paints a gripping and mesmerizing detective story in a very vivid and convincing way. In addition, the characters are drawn with great credibility and conviction. It’s a fast-paced novel that will keep you engaged from the first page to the last.” ~ Piaras

About the Author
Leslie Wolfe
Leslie Wolfe is a bestselling author whose novels break the mold of traditional thrillers. She creates unforgettable, brilliant, strong women heroes who deliver fast-paced, satisfying suspense, backed up by extensive background research in technology and psychology.
Leslie released the first novel, Executive, in October 2011. It was very well received, including inquiries from Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s most notable works, The Watson Girl (2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.
Leslie enjoys engaging with readers every day and would love to hear from you.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win $1000 cash in the gift card of your choice.


Monday, September 10, 2018

Silver Dagger Book Tours Two-Year Anniversary Celebration

Silver Dagger Book Tours
Two-Year Anniversary Celebration

Silver Dagger Book Tours Two-Year Anniversary Celebration

Silver Dagger Book Tours is two years old this month, and they’re giving you to chance to win $200 to celebrate.

About Silver Dagger Book Tours
Believe it or not, Silver Dagger Book Tours was created and is mainly operated by just one person, Maia Gomez.
Maia used to be just an Internet crawler looking for new books and giveaways when she stumbled upon book tours. After indulging in many dozens of tours, she decided she’d like to try her hand at blogging in her spare time (with absolutely no blogging experience at all!). She was a book blogger for several companies (and still is) and stuck with it for over three years. In that time, she learned all the ropes and became a pretty efficient blogger, but there was still something missing. She wanted to make her posts stand out a bit, so she started creating small graphics to jazz them up.
Maia became pregnant with her second child in the fall of 2015. She and her husband finally purchased their first home, she quit her waitressing job, packed up everything for the move, and never looked back!
It took several months of trying to get the ball rolling, as Maia found it difficult to get authors to tour with her new company, Silver Dagger Book Tours. Then she had the brilliant idea of letting authors pay what they could comfortably afford, instead of the outrageous rates charged by some other tour companies.
Since then, Maia has organized over 1000 tours and worked with hundreds of authors – many of who come back for repeat tours! Two or three tours kick off every weekday with occasional tours on the weekends, and every tour is required to have a giveaway so readers can gain a little something and have fun while they enjoy learning about new books.
Maia says: “I have an absolutely amazing group of bloggers that share my tours on their sites and really couldn't have gotten this far without their continued support and would like to thank each and every one of them! Ya'll are amazing! I also have two assistants that help me check links and keep up with blogger activity – Janet, who's been with me over a year, and Laurie, who is a new addition. Ya'll ladies are spectacular and I couldn't do it without you! Absolutely everything else is completely run solely by me, though, and I really enjoy organizing tours and helping new authors get discovered. I don't discriminate and host ALL fictional genres in ALL age ranges as me and my bloggers have a broad range of readers that enjoy many different genres. After two years of astronomical tours, I am going stronger than ever now and growing on a daily basis with plans to continue hosting tours for many many years!”
We wish you all the best, Maia!
If you’re an author interested in booking a tour with Silver Dagger Book Tours, you can find a FAQ page and booking form here.

If you’re a blogger interested in hosting with Silver Dagger Book Tours, you can view the open tours here.

Or sign up for email invites here.

About Maia
Maia Gomez
A third-generation local of the historic town of Fredericksburg, Texas, I was born and raised among the rolling hills of the Texas Hill Country where the beauty of the landscape is breathtaking. The town is famous for the Main Street historic shopping district, the best peaches in the world, wildflowers, and wine. I really can't imagine living anywhere else!
A country girl through and through, I grew up hunting, fishing, and digging for Indian artifacts, all the while enjoying the many rivers and swimming holes around town. I'm a stay-at-home mom with three beautiful boys - ages 9, 2, and 1 - who encompass my entire world!
A bookaholic from birth, I have always had a deep passion for reading and spend many nights devouring books into the wee hours of the morning. My “real” book collection numbers over 3000 books and takes up an entire small room in our house – complete with custom bookshelves built by my husband - that I call my “book cave”. I've been building this collection since my childhood and will keep on adding to it for the rest of my life. Of course, I also have a similar collection of ebooks as well, as I finally went digital a few years ago.
In my spare time, I enjoy reading, playing with my kids, doing DIY renovation projects with my husband, cooking, and relaxing on my back porch with a good cup of coffee while I watch the massive axis deer herd come through the yard.

Enter the celebration giveaway for a chance to win a $200 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.


Monday, August 20, 2018

"So Glad to Meet You" by Lisa Super

So Glad to Meet You
by Lisa Super

So Glad to Meet You  by Lisa Super

So Glad to Meet You by Lisa Super is currently on tour with Silver Dagger Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

Daphne and Oliver have almost nothing in common ...
Seventeen-year-old Daphne Bowman, a bookish drama nerd in public school, might never have crossed paths with Oliver, the popular, outgoing mascot for his private school's football team, but one event has bound them inextricably. Daphne's older sister, Emily, and Oliver's older brother, Jason, who were high school sweethearts, committed suicide together seven years earlier.
When Daphne uncovers Emily and Jason's bucket list - a list comprised of their “Top Ten” places to visit before they die - she knows she has to tell someone. The one person who might actually get what she's going through and who might not think it's silly that she wants to complete the list, is also someone she's never spoken to - Oliver Pagano. Throwing caution to the wind, Daphne sends Oliver a Facebook message that will come to change the course of both of their senior years - and maybe their entire lives.
Tackling grief with a wry voice and an unflinching eye, So Glad to Meet You tells the story of two people who, in searching for what they've lost, end up finding what they never knew they needed - each other.

The final bell rang a decibel lower than usual. Or the pitch was a half note sharp or flat. Daphne didn’t have the musical ear to distinguish exactly what it was, but something sounded different. Maybe because it was Tuesday, and Tuesdays had a tendency to sound that way. She twisted her neck to the surrounding desks. The other students either hadn’t noticed the fluctuation in the bell tone, or they didn’t care. They gathered their books and waited at the door to funnel out of the classroom. Daphne cleared her desk and joined the mob formation.
The student body drained into the hallway like pipes connecting to a festive, heavily perfumed sewer. Homecoming banners dangled from the walls, one gust of wind away from being trampled on the floor. Senior year was in full swing. Three classrooms down, Daphne saw Janine whack a rogue balloon into the air. Even in maximum exertion mode, her best friend’s face rested in its standard quasi-sour state. Daphne leaned against the lockers and waited for Janine to catch up.
“Yo, yo, yo,” Janine said.
“Did the final bell sound different?” Daphne asked.
“Maybe a little louder,” Janine said. “Probably psychological, though. Or both our speakers are on the fritz. Did you see that balloon assault my face?”
Daphne smiled at Janine’s talent for switching subjects in the same breath. “No, I only saw you teaching it a lesson. You should’ve popped it.”
“It will be the greatest regret of my life.” Janine grumbled, but her brown eyes twinkled under the thick, dark brows that intimidated everyone but Daphne.
The two girls plodded down the school hallways, together and alone. Their thrift store attire, with mismatched buttons, vintage threads worn thin, and patches covering the tears, set them apart from the other students clustered against the lockers in assembly line sweaters and knockoff denim. Plus, the secondhand wardrobe was cost effective.
Daphne dialed her locker combination. “Want to go to the game on Friday?” She left out the sarcasm to mess with Janine’s head.
“Why? Do you want to watch a bunch of dudes in spandex concuss themselves?” Distressed, Janine flipped the part of her long, wiry black hair to the other side.
Daphne continued feigning innocence. “I don’t know. I like the sound their helmets make when they collide. It’s so raw and animalistic.”
The tan skin on Janine’s forehead furrowed at this revelation. Mission accomplished.
Daphne’s voice went dreamy, and she slung her bookbag over her shoulder. “It’s the sound I imagine hearing on my deathbed when I’m taking my last breaths. That heavenly sound ushering me into the afterlife.”
Janine groaned, embarrassed that she’d fallen for the ruse. “I thought you’d gone and caught school spirit or something. You know, I’d have to take you out back and put you out of your misery.” They reached Janine’s locker.
“You have my permission,” Daphne said. They’d been doing their best to ease each other’s suffering since fifth grade.
Gazing past Janine, Daphne spied a girl walking away. The hair on Daphne’s arms tingled and pointed straight to the ceiling. From the back, the girl could be Emily. Except that, of course, she couldn’t. The blonde hair swishing at the girl’s shoulders couldn’t be her sister’s. Neither could the slopes and valleys where her ribs and hips became her waist. But Daphne grabbed these seconds, the ticks of time when she reclaimed her sister, when history was rewritten. She held them tight, fingernails digging into her palms, so she was ready to let go when Janine slammed her locker and blocked her view.
“You saw the library was closed, right?” Janine asked.
Daphne flinched, and the raven ends of her asymmetrical bob flopped against her neck and shoulder. “What?”
“I drove by and the sign said it was closed for repairs.” “What does that mean?”
“The library broke.” Janine shrugged.
“What the hell, L.A.?” Daphne slumped against a locker. “Get your public services together.” “Use the school’s library.”
“That’s crazy talk.” “You’re crazy talk.”
“Can I come over?” Daphne pleaded.
“I’m still grounded for flunking my Spanish quiz.”
Daphne scolded Janine. “You already speak two languages. Seems like it shouldn’t be such a struggle to learn a third.” She smirked.
Janine snickered. “What’s your excuse, monolingual?”
Daphne tilted her head up to the ceiling, pretended to think, and lowered her chin with the obvious answer. “White privilege.”
“Damn skippy. If this stupid school offered Armenian, I’d be aces. I mean, I wouldn’t get an A, but I wouldn’t be grounded.”
“Janine, ace of the B-. It’s an art form.”
“Put it up.” Janine raised her arm, and Daphne high-wristed her, joining the fragile bones where arm meets palm.
They’d been doing this in place of high fives since sophomore year. One Saturday, after a fruitful haul from Buffalo Exchange, Janine had dressed for a family reunion in a faded pair of overalls and a black turtleneck with a hole at the wrist.
Janine’s mom wasn’t impressed with their thriftiness. “I can deal with the overalls, but you shouldn’t buy damaged clothes.”
Janine picked up a pair of scissors, cut a hole in the turtleneck’s other wrist, and stuck her thumbs through the holes. “Better?”
Daphne giggled.
Janine’s mom shook her head. “You two are literally wearing your teen angst on your sleeves.”
Janine held up her arm. “High five with wrists.”
Daphne bumped her wrist against Janine’s. An inside joke was born.
Two years later, they were still wearing their literal teen angst on their sleeves. Daphne tapped Janine’s wrist twice for emphasis. “See you tomorrow.” She grinned down the hallway.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for the Book
“At once bitingly funny and strikingly poignant, Lisa Super's powerful debut touches on grief, identity, and first love, the perfect read for fans of John Green, Mary H. K. Choi and Rainbow Rowell.” ~ Julia Lynn Rubin, author of Burro Hills
"A moving exploration of heartache and the courage that points toward the light." ~ Kirkus Reviews
“An intimate study of grief, identity, and the power of human connection, wrapped up in a love letter to Los Angeles. Daphne and Oliver broke my heart and then burrowed deep inside it.” ~ Rachel Lynn Solomon, author of You’ll Miss Me When I’m Gone
“I adored this book! Equal parts moving, funny and romantic, this is both a breezy, entertaining adventure and a surprisingly thoughtful and real exploration of a subject I’ve rarely seen written about: distanced grief.” ~ NB
“If you like young love blossoming in difficult circumstances, and people finding themselves together, this one is for you!” ~ Shell

About the Author
Lisa Super
Lisa Super is a brunch enthusiast based in Los Angeles. She's worked on a number of TV shows ranging from pop culture phenomenon (Flavor of Love) to traumedy gold (One Mississippi). While every day in LA is an adventure, traveling with her husband across the globe is her favorite hobby. So Glad to Meet You is her first novel.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card and a print copy of So Glad to Meet You by Lisa Super.