WELCOME TO THE BLOG, TMONIQUE! :)
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.
Where to Find Tmonique:
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Eternity by Tmonique Stephens
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing (August 29, 2012)
Series: Descendants of Ra, 1
Genre: Paranormal Romance
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.
Where to Buy*:
More Info:
Eternity by Tmonique Stephens
Excerpt
Curled on his body
in the middle of Central Park, Roman let Stella sleep. Holding her wasn’t a
hardship as his mind wandered to the future, their future. Foolhardy,
definitely, but what else could he do when he held the object of his obsession
in his arms?
Remember your
promise and let her go.
He stroked a
wayward lock of hair behind her ear and slid his fingers down her silky cheek.
She nuzzled him, turned her face into his palm and kissed him. Every noble
intention evaporated like a bead of sizzling water in a hot skillet. Cock rock
hard, he had to kiss her, feel her breath on his skin, in his body. In the
deserted park, he needed her now.
The fine hairs on
the back of his neck bristled. He froze. Battle instincts surged to the
forefront, screaming for action, instead, he listened to the night surrounding
him and waited. Though not a hub of wildlife, the creatures of Central Park
were silent. They also waited. Somewhere, nearby, a predator stalked.
He nudged Stella.
She stretched, making him aware of every curve and hollow she possessed, and purred,
a sexy rumble deep in her throat. Before she could say a word, he cupped her
head and pulled her into a quick kiss.
“Shhh, we’re in
danger,” he whispered against her lips.
Her head popped up
and she eased off him. In the gloom, her frightened eyes met his. “What?” She
mouthed.
“We have to get out
of here.”
Crouched low, he
took her hand, together they crawled along next to the hedge. He looked over.
His keen eyesight picked up nothing and no one. So why did the same excitement
he used to get before a battle race through his veins? Stella squeezed his
hand. Her wide eyes sent him a question he couldn’t answer.
He drew his gun
from the small of his back and the silencer from his jacket pocket.
“Roman?” Her voice
wavered.
He spared her a
glance. “Whatever happens, do exactly as I say. Understand?”
Her head bobbed on
her neck.
“Walk beside me,
not in front or behind. Got it?”
Not far from the
nearest road, they stuck to the trees and away from the open expanse of the
Great Lawn.
Leaves crunched
behind them. He’d never run from anything in his life. Even before the curse
and his immortality, he stood his ground and killed everything in his path.
Now, whatever stalked him, stalked her. His senses told him only one lurked in
the darkness, but with Stella to protect, he couldn’t risk it.
The Delacorte
amphitheater loomed ahead. He guided her into the shadows. Stationed behind a
statue, he aimed and watched the route they had just taken. Stella clutched his
jacket, her shivering body pressed close.
“Tell me.”
“There’s someone
out there.”
“It could be
anyone, ’kids maybe?”
“Maybe.” He agreed
purely to reassure her. But as he spoke, one hundred yards away, something
peeled away from the shadows of a large tree and charged.
“Stay.” He ordered.
Through his jacket, her nails dug into his back. He pulled away, but she
wouldn’t let go. He shrugged out of his jacket and advanced. She called to him,
begging him to return, but the blood rushing in his ears drown out her voice.
He rushed forward and focused on the attacking foe.
Wait. He skidded to
a halt. He had a shot, but . . . something was wrong. The height was too short.
Whoever ran toward him must be a child—or running on all fours. He squinted at
the slice of darkness closing the distance between them. The tree coverage
ended and speckled moonlight dotted the Great Lawn, uncovering the thing
barreling forward. For a split second his mind tried to unravel the impossible
nightmare quickly shrinking the distance, before he fired three shots between
its widely spaced eyes. It roared and charged faster.
“Run, Stella!” He
fired running back to the theater. She hadn’t listened. Instead of running
away, she met him. He grabbed her hand and ran, but she couldn’t keep up and
the thing behind them closed the distance.
“Is it him, The
Strangler?” she shouted breathless.
They ran past The
Preserve, rounded a column and then stopped. Shrouded in gloom, the outline of
the pond appeared in front of the Belvedere Castle. He didn’t want her to see
what chased them, but before he could stop her, she turned. Her scream pierced
the night. Yards away, a bellow replied. He jerked her around and shoved. She
stumbled and fell into the water.
“Go!” This time,
she didn’t fight. For a second, he watched her swim. Then turned in time for claws
to dig into his side.
Everlasting by Tmonique Stephens
Publisher: Tmonique Stephens (July 9, 2013)
Series: Descendants of Ra, 2
Genre: Paranormal Romance
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.
Where to Buy*:
More Info:
Everlasting by Tmonique Stephens
Excerpt
“I have been
with you for many days and could have killed you a dozen times, but I did not.”
Reign crowded Alexis until her back was against a wall and her gun was pressed
into the center of his chest. His face was the only thing she saw. Her breath
caught. Her insides fluttered.
“Do you wish
me harm, Alexis? If you do, your weapon will achieve nothing. I do not know if
my sword will achieve anything, but I dare say you would have better luck with
my blade than with your gun.” The word
rolled off his tongue like a sensual sigh. She lowered her weapon and shoved it
back into the holster.
Hilt first, he
handed the sword to her and waited until she had a strong grip before releasing
his hold. It pulled her down and thunked into the carpet. She tried to lift it,
but couldn’t. Reign smirked and sat on the sofa while she dragged the
blade—cutting a slice in the faded carpet—to the chair. Well-polished and honed
to a sharp edge, the sword glinted as she traced a finger over the intricate
design. The cold metal tantalized as she imagined him wielding above his head
while he charged onto a battlefield. The image was terrifying…and erotic.
Braided
leather wrapped around the handle and scroll characters traveled down the
blade. No, not characters, hieroglyphics. “Do you know what this says?” She
stroked the metal. Puzzlement crossed his featured, then a dawning awareness.
She thought he was about to lie and say no. Instead, he nodded.
He stumbled
over the pronunciations a few times before speaking. “‘I am the bringer. Face me and be judged’. I have never read
Egyptian before.”
“How’d you end
up cursed in Egypt?” Instead of answering, he looked away. Okay. Next question.
“Why does the tether hold you here?”
His gaze swung
back to her. “The Vanquished. When they come and I can no longer function.”
“Who’s the
Vanquished?”
“Conquered
warriors haunting my soul. They are my penance, my tormentors. The only peace I
find is when I’m within one hundred feet of the one who balances my soul. You
are that person.”
She was about
to say she didn’t want to be that person
when his gaze turned sultry, swept across her face, down the column of her
throat and rested on her breasts. An internal switch flipped and she flushed.
Her fingers stroked down the blade as images of him—of them—entwined and doing
things she dreamed about flickered in her head. The positions, the thrusts, the
licks, and touches. Orgasms after orgasms. She, crying out his name.
His gaze
roasted her. Those oceany eyes kissed her lips, caressed her breasts, slid down
her body and settled between her thighs where she ached. Her finger slipped on
the metal and blood ran freely. The sharp sting seared all lustful thoughts
away. Instantly, he kneeled in front of her and grabbed her wrist. She tried to
jerk away, but he held her firmly, his thumb pressed hard on the wound.
“Apologies, your injury is my responsibility.
I never should have let you—”
“It’s okay.
It’s not that bad.”
“It is. My
nearness keeps causing you injury. That, I cannot allow.” His eyes blazed full
of anguish.
Strands of his
long hair swept across his face, partially hiding his expression. Alexis
brushed the wayward locks away. She skimmed her palm down his sculpted cheek
and through his short beard. His eyes widened and…he stopped breathing. Amazed
that she had actually caused a man to stop breathing at her mere touch, Alexis
leaned in for a taste, that’s all she promised. One kiss to settle the heat
stirring in her blood.
Centimeters
away from his lips, she paused, then drew away.
There’s a reason you're celibate, Alexis.
Too many relationships had soured quick and left her swearing off men for the
past year. But if there was ever a reason to end her diet, Reign was it.
He waited. Not
a muscle betrayed his emotions, yet a vein pulsed wildly at the base of his
neck.
But he lied.
What if you approach this logically? You want him.
Your panties are sticking to you, you want him so bad. So have him. Leave your
heart out of it. Hell, men do it. You can do it too. Screw him, let him work
all your kinks out. Just don’t fall in love with him so when the shit hits the
fan—
I won't be the one cut by the blades.
She pressed
her lips to his.
Holy hell! Nothing had ever tasted so delicious,
felt as delightful as his firm lips slanted across her mouth. His whiskers
gently brushed her skin, heightening her senses. His scent, woodsy with a hint
of musk, filled her lungs. She leaned into him, parted her lips, and licked the
seam of his closed mouth. He shuddered and his lips parted. His tongue darted
inside her mouth and ignited her blood.
He wanted her.
She didn’t just feel in it in his touch, but knew it as if she were peeking
into his soul.
They yanked
apart, she panting while Reign inhaled sharply and exhaled deliberately. His
pecs heaved as his gaze devoured her. Nothing made sense, not the heat surfing
through her body or the hunger gnawing at her soul. Kissing Reign erased the
presence of every man who had ever touched her. Flustered, she glanced down and
saw her finger still pressed between his.
He released
her. She wiped away the smear of blood and found perfect new skin. “Okay, so
how did you do that?” She held up the healed digit to his puzzled stare.
“I do not
know.” His gaze shifted away.
He’s lying. Disappointment
dissolved the lingering taste of him. Wow,
that didn’t take long.
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a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Wow....these books sound great, very different from the normal PNR out there. I'm putting them on my list--how about you? :)
Enjoy!
Until Next Time,
*TBQ's Book Palace is a member of both the Amazon and Barnes and Nobles affiliates program. By using the links provided to buy products from either website, I receive a very small percentage of the order. To read my full disclosure on the matter, please see this post!
Jackie has been writing fiction since she was eleven years old. Mild mannered fantasy/SF/pseudo-literary writer by day, obsessive romance writer by night, she used to balance her writing with the more serious job of librarianship until a chance meeting with another romance writer prompted her to throw off the shackles of her day job and devote herself to the true love of her heart – writing romance. She particularly likes to write emotional stories with alpha heroes who've just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. 
Midnight Lies by Ella Grace
Surrender by Pamela Clare
Mina Khan is a Texas-based writer and food enthusiast. She writes about djinns (genies), dragons, hunks and whatever else sparks her fancy. She also writes a weekly food column for the San Angelo Standard-Times as Rashda Khan. Originally from Bangladesh, she is now a proud West Texan.
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..jpg)
