Thank you for joining us on the fourtheenth day of Bewitching Book Tours Haunted Halloween Spooktacular which runs every week day until the end of October and showcases 26 different authors!Today we are featuring Struck by Eros, a Paranormal Romance by Jenn Windrow (8 July 2016, MuseItUp Publishing, 228 pages).
This is the first book in the Redeeming Cupid series
Don't miss the Spooktacular Flash Fiction by Jenn Windrow .
PREVIEW: Check out the book's synopsis and excerpt below. Read the first two chapters with Amazon Look Inside.
The authors will be awarding a Kindle Fire, Amazon Gift Cards, Books and More to randomly drawn winners via Rafflecopter during the tour. Please do take part: comment on our post and follow the tour where you will be able to read flash fiction (⚡), and guest blog posts (✉).
Synopsis | Teaser | About the Author | Giveaway & Tour Stops
Synopsis
One jaded woman. Two hot men. A challenge to prove Cupid doesn't always know best.After a lifetime of dating losers, Noel Chase thinks she’s found love with college professor Len Holder. But Cupid's aim sucks worse than his crap-tacular curse, sticking her with supposed soul mate, Grayson Adler. Grayson is gorgeous, Greek, and an exact replica of the man-whores of her past. No matter what the chubby cherub thinks, Noel is sure Grayson is Mr. Wrong with a capital “W.”
Forced to do Cupid’s bidding, Noel must spend her days with Grayson matchmaking the unlucky-in-loves, and trying to resist Grayson’s charm and do-me-now sex appeal. But when Cupid tries to match her fiancé, Len, with another woman, Noel must make an excruciating decision. Defy Cupid and hang on to Len? Or succumb to her fate and trust Grayson with her heart?
Teasers
Excerpt | Flash Fiction |Excerpt
One
Love, Honor…but I Indulged in Adultery
Last month, Cupid shot my size-six ass with an arrow and saddled me with the soul mate from hell. I lay on my side and looked at the snoring mountain of muscle next to me. Grayson Adler. Supposedly my perfect match in every way, but whoever was in charge of perfect matches perfectly fucked up.
Even though my body shook from a Grayson-induced, post-coital high, I still loathed my couldn’t-be-more-wrong-for-me mate.However, we were stuck together for eternity because of Cupid and his craptacular curse.
A wall-rattling snore broke through the hum of the air conditioner in the over-priced hotel room we met in every two weeks for our do-it-or-die conjugal visit. Grayson reached down and adjusted his erection. His hand brushed my thigh and his touch ignited a spark in my nether regions. Hot and horny, that’s how things were with Grayson and me. Sexual compatibility off the charts. Too bad the rest of our relationship itched like sand in the crotch.
I pushed his fingers away from my leg before lust overrode common sense. Before we ended up having sex for a fourth time this afternoon. “Up and at ’em.” I flicked his earlobe and tugged a lock of his mocha-colored hair. “I’ve gotta get home.”
Grayson sat up and gave me the melt-your-heart smile I’m sure made most women drop an egg. But I knew from past experience that behind his oh-so-handsome features lived a playboy heart and a wandering dick.
He rubbed the sleep out of his baby blues, his elbow bumping into my shoulder. “Noel’s got a hot date,” he sing-songed in his ever-so-annoying way.
“Yep.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, hoping to avoid any further contact.
“Why bother dating when you know you can’t commit?” Grayson stood, and the green and purple comforter fell to the ground. My gaze followed his flexing ass muscles into the bathroom. “It’s like having sex and not being allowed to orgasm.”
“Like a guy would ever have sex without an orgasm.” I wrangled my pink, polka-dot bra off the shade of a tall floor lamp. “Who says I can’t commit?”
“Cupid,” he yelled over the flush of the toilet, then walked back into the room. “The day that arrow stuck in your cute behind.” He grabbed his black, dress pants off the club chair and stepped into them. “So, this date tonight, is it serious?”
“My life. My business.” I plucked my hastily discarded T-shirt and jeans off the nightstand and dresser. “Let’s not forget, I didn’t choose you, you didn’t choose me.” I slipped a T-shirt over my head. “As long as we continue our bi-weekly bump and grind, Cupid will never know we’re just sex-mates. I can do my thing and you can hump anything with a vagina.”
Grayson folded his arms over his Adonis-like chest, tapping out an imaginary beat on his forearm. “Just don’t want you to string some poor sucker along, knowing you could never give yourself one hundred percent.”
“Should I be more like you? How many broken hearts have you left tangled in the sheets?” I slid into a pair of faded low-rise jeans.
“I don’t give a shit about any of the women I sleep with.” He almost sounded proud.
“Present company included.” I slammed my feet into brown leather boots and zipped them up.
“You’ve made it obvious you’re not interested in anything more than a quick roll in the sack.” His lips lifted in a half-cocked smile. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to ratchet up the romance. Roses, chocolates, and moonlight serenades?”
The thought of Grayson showering me with friggin’ romantic gestures reminded me of all the times my ex-fiancé believed candy and flowers could make up for his lack of judgment and multiple indiscretions.
Just one of many similarities. Also, the main reason why Grayson’s name had been chiseled on a long list of people who would never have my heart.
“You ever show up with a box of chocolates and they’ll have to surgically remove them from your ass.” I reached around him, grabbed my purse off the dresser, and marched out the door, slamming it shut behind me, hoping it rattled any ideas Grayson may have of candlelit dinners or late-night walks on the beach.
[...]
Spooktacular Flash Fiction
Armed guards pulled me from my cell, and dragged me over the blood splattered Astro-turf. They shackled me to the goal post at the end of a football field turned-execution-chamber, stripped me of my last remaining article of clothing and left me to die.
Ten guards stood in a circle around me, machine guns pointed at my head. They thought they were safe. Five television crews hurried around the arena preparing for tonight’s broadcast. They thought they were safe. A priest knelt in front of a vat of water, blessing it. He thought he was safe. I’m a vampire.
No one was safe.
The announcer grabbed my chin with his pudgy, gloved hand. His mouth spread into an ugly smile before he turned and blocked the crowds view. He cleared his throat and spit. The warm glob landed on my cheek and slid down before dropping to the ground. He would be the first to die.
For five days my human captors tortured me, punished me, abused me. I allowed it. Their acts bought me time to plan my escape. The bitter blood of a family of rats who shared my cell kept me alive, their donation helped remove the last trace of poison that coursed through my veins.
Humans. They thought they got lucky catching one of the Seven Sovereign leaders of the vampire race. It hadn’t been luck. I’d been set up. By the six vampires I trusted the most. Betrayed, martyred, and left for dead at the entrance of a Vampire Apprehension Station. Silver injected in my blood to keep me compliant, close to death, to ensure I didn’t slaughter the humans. Sacrificed because I didn’t agree with their vision of the future and refused to cower to a lesser race.
Betrayal was an ugly thing.
But so was revenge.
The stadium lights flickered on and flooded the field in a cold white light. I lowered my head and let my greasy hair shield my eyes from the glare. Soft footfalls approached, bringing the all-too-familiar smell of body odor and peppermint with them. For five nights the same pungent odor visited me to pray for my undead soul.
My gaze followed the priest’s movements. He dipped a chalice into a vat of water, and raised the cup in the air, drops of water sloshed over the sides and fell to the ground. He walked over to me, the beads of his crucifix clicking against the gold cross.
“Delano Melazi, I’ll ask you again. Shall I pray for your undead soul?”
I ignored him tonight as I’ve done the last five times he asked me this question. It wasn’t my soul he needed to pray for, and it wasn’t my body they would be burying this evening.
A moment of silence stretched between us. He huffed and gestured for the guards. Two hurried over. “Hold his head.” Warm fingers dug into my scalp and forced me to meet the priest’s eyes. The twinkle in his baby blues was more devil than saint.
“By the authority of the church, I mark you as one of the damned.” He dipped his index finger into the chalice. The water rippled. He pulled his finger out and pressed it to the center of my forehead. It sizzled against my skin and burned along the two lines the priest traced with his finger. My fangs sank into my tongue, holding back my agonized scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of enjoying my pain.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he finished. The guards dropped their hold on my head and it fell back to my chest.
The holy water cross was meant to weaken me, to stop me from fighting when the executioner came out and the real damage was inflicted. On a less powerful vampire, a younger one, it was effective, but I was almost seven hundred years old. I possessed more power than anyone knew, even the vampires who sent me here.
The Sovereign leaders called my capture a small sacrifice, a peace offering to the human race. I called it a punishment, a crime, an injustice.
Static from the Jumbo-Tron played over the speakers. The announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. The crowd cheered, excited to witness my demise. And they called the vampires monsters.
“This week, two brave VAU agents captured one of the Vampires’ leaders. Delano Melazi.” The crowd booed and hissed their hatred. “He alone is responsible for the Nightclub Massacre.”
I had nothing to do with it, but let them believe what they wanted. I had no quarrel with them, just like a wolf has no quarrel with a sheep.
Once the crowd quieted down the announcer continued. “A tragedy no human will ever forget. You’ve seen the pictures. Over one hundred and thirty humans captured, tortured, torn to pieces.” He paused and stepped closer. I felt the warmth of his flesh and heard the beating of his heart. “This monster locked those doors. This monster slaughtered your friends and family in cold blood. This monster deserves to pay.”
His words worked the already agitated crowd into frenzy. They raised their fists high in the air and yelled for my death.
Just a few moments more, that’s all I needed. Seconds until my power was restored.
The announcer’s fat fingers grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and forced me to look into the camera. “Tonight he will pay. He will suffer. He will die.” His words echoed around the stadium.
No one heard the handcuffs fall to the ground or saw me twist his head or heard his last breath. No one knew anything was wrong until his head slipped from my fingers and his body slid to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
The guards aimed their guns at my heart, pulled the triggers and let the bullets fly in a flurry of silver and speed, but I was swifter, stronger, superior.
Before the first bullet hit the metal pole that had bound me, I was in front of the final guard in line. Ten beating hearts at my feet. Ten gaping holes in their chest. Ten dead bodies on the earth.
I turned to the closest camera, the red lights still blinking, but unmanned. “I am Delano Melazi.” I raised my voice over the commotion. “And I will seek revenge against those who wronged me.”
The first blast of holy water hit me in the shoulder. It knocked me off balance. The second hit me in the face. The cross the priest had drawn on my head merely irritated me, but the onslaught of blessed liquid burned, weakened and crippled me. It ran down my arm, melted the flesh off the bone.
I had one chance to get out alive. With the last remaining bit of strength still hidden deep in my reserves, I vanished. Teleported, a handy trick only I knew I possessed, away from the stadium and the humans, but not the pain.
Ten guards stood in a circle around me, machine guns pointed at my head. They thought they were safe. Five television crews hurried around the arena preparing for tonight’s broadcast. They thought they were safe. A priest knelt in front of a vat of water, blessing it. He thought he was safe. I’m a vampire.
No one was safe.
The announcer grabbed my chin with his pudgy, gloved hand. His mouth spread into an ugly smile before he turned and blocked the crowds view. He cleared his throat and spit. The warm glob landed on my cheek and slid down before dropping to the ground. He would be the first to die.
For five days my human captors tortured me, punished me, abused me. I allowed it. Their acts bought me time to plan my escape. The bitter blood of a family of rats who shared my cell kept me alive, their donation helped remove the last trace of poison that coursed through my veins.
Humans. They thought they got lucky catching one of the Seven Sovereign leaders of the vampire race. It hadn’t been luck. I’d been set up. By the six vampires I trusted the most. Betrayed, martyred, and left for dead at the entrance of a Vampire Apprehension Station. Silver injected in my blood to keep me compliant, close to death, to ensure I didn’t slaughter the humans. Sacrificed because I didn’t agree with their vision of the future and refused to cower to a lesser race.
Betrayal was an ugly thing.
But so was revenge.
The stadium lights flickered on and flooded the field in a cold white light. I lowered my head and let my greasy hair shield my eyes from the glare. Soft footfalls approached, bringing the all-too-familiar smell of body odor and peppermint with them. For five nights the same pungent odor visited me to pray for my undead soul.
My gaze followed the priest’s movements. He dipped a chalice into a vat of water, and raised the cup in the air, drops of water sloshed over the sides and fell to the ground. He walked over to me, the beads of his crucifix clicking against the gold cross.
“Delano Melazi, I’ll ask you again. Shall I pray for your undead soul?”
I ignored him tonight as I’ve done the last five times he asked me this question. It wasn’t my soul he needed to pray for, and it wasn’t my body they would be burying this evening.
A moment of silence stretched between us. He huffed and gestured for the guards. Two hurried over. “Hold his head.” Warm fingers dug into my scalp and forced me to meet the priest’s eyes. The twinkle in his baby blues was more devil than saint.
“By the authority of the church, I mark you as one of the damned.” He dipped his index finger into the chalice. The water rippled. He pulled his finger out and pressed it to the center of my forehead. It sizzled against my skin and burned along the two lines the priest traced with his finger. My fangs sank into my tongue, holding back my agonized scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of enjoying my pain.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he finished. The guards dropped their hold on my head and it fell back to my chest.
The holy water cross was meant to weaken me, to stop me from fighting when the executioner came out and the real damage was inflicted. On a less powerful vampire, a younger one, it was effective, but I was almost seven hundred years old. I possessed more power than anyone knew, even the vampires who sent me here.
The Sovereign leaders called my capture a small sacrifice, a peace offering to the human race. I called it a punishment, a crime, an injustice.
Static from the Jumbo-Tron played over the speakers. The announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. The crowd cheered, excited to witness my demise. And they called the vampires monsters.
“This week, two brave VAU agents captured one of the Vampires’ leaders. Delano Melazi.” The crowd booed and hissed their hatred. “He alone is responsible for the Nightclub Massacre.”
I had nothing to do with it, but let them believe what they wanted. I had no quarrel with them, just like a wolf has no quarrel with a sheep.
Once the crowd quieted down the announcer continued. “A tragedy no human will ever forget. You’ve seen the pictures. Over one hundred and thirty humans captured, tortured, torn to pieces.” He paused and stepped closer. I felt the warmth of his flesh and heard the beating of his heart. “This monster locked those doors. This monster slaughtered your friends and family in cold blood. This monster deserves to pay.”
His words worked the already agitated crowd into frenzy. They raised their fists high in the air and yelled for my death.
Just a few moments more, that’s all I needed. Seconds until my power was restored.
The announcer’s fat fingers grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and forced me to look into the camera. “Tonight he will pay. He will suffer. He will die.” His words echoed around the stadium.
No one heard the handcuffs fall to the ground or saw me twist his head or heard his last breath. No one knew anything was wrong until his head slipped from my fingers and his body slid to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
The guards aimed their guns at my heart, pulled the triggers and let the bullets fly in a flurry of silver and speed, but I was swifter, stronger, superior.
Before the first bullet hit the metal pole that had bound me, I was in front of the final guard in line. Ten beating hearts at my feet. Ten gaping holes in their chest. Ten dead bodies on the earth.
I turned to the closest camera, the red lights still blinking, but unmanned. “I am Delano Melazi.” I raised my voice over the commotion. “And I will seek revenge against those who wronged me.”
The first blast of holy water hit me in the shoulder. It knocked me off balance. The second hit me in the face. The cross the priest had drawn on my head merely irritated me, but the onslaught of blessed liquid burned, weakened and crippled me. It ran down my arm, melted the flesh off the bone.
I had one chance to get out alive. With the last remaining bit of strength still hidden deep in my reserves, I vanished. Teleported, a handy trick only I knew I possessed, away from the stadium and the humans, but not the pain.
Struck by Eros
Available NOW!
About the Author
Jenn Windrow loves characters that have a pinch of spunk, a dash of attitude, and a large dollop of sex appeal. Top it all off with a huge heaping helping of snark, and you’ve got the ingredients for the kind of fast paced stories she loves to read and write. Home is a suburb of it’s-so-hot-my-shoes-have-melted-to-the-pavement Phoenix. Where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a slew of animals that seem to keep following her home, at least that’s what she claims.Follow Jenn Windrow:
Giveaway and Tour Stops
Enter to win a Kindle Fire, Amazon Gift Cards, Books and More.a Rafflecopter giveaway
Join us on the Bewitching Book Tours Haunted Halloween Spooktacular:
19-Sep Chained to the Tiger's Bed by Kelex 
20-Sep Mated to Three by Sam Crescent
21-Sep Taming the Beast by Erzabet Bishop
22-Sep By Design by BA Tortuga
23-Sep Paws and Claws by MA Church
30-Sep Glimmer by Rayna Noire
3-Oct Blood Bound by Traci Douglass
4-Oct Eternal Desire by Roxanne Rhoads
5-Oct The Infernal Detective by Kirsten Weiss
6-Oct Struck By Eros by Jenn Windrow
7-Oct Oubliette--A Forgotten Little Place by Vanta Black
10-Oct Eve of All Hallows by Natalie Nicole Bates
11-Oct Charm City by Ash Krafton
12-Oct Of Fear and Faith by N.D. Jones
13-Oct Witch's Cursed Cabin by Marsha A Moore
14-Oct Immortal Aliens by Laura B. Diamond
17-Oct Black In White by JC Andrijeski
18-Oct Take Me! by Lily Harlem
19-Oct Love Me Broken by Angelique Voisen
20-Oct A Murder of Vampires by Catherine Winters
21-Oct Pagan Eyes: Initiation by Rayna Noire
24-Oct Outback Heat by Lexxie Couper
25-Oct Black Beauty by Constance Burris
26-Oct Gryphon's Passing by Krista Carlson
27-Oct Haunted Boston Harbor by Sam Baltrusis
28-Oct The Graveyard Shift by Jamie K. Schmidt
31-Oct Pocket Full of Tinder by Jill Archer
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