Check out the book trailer for my Edge of Darkness series!

To help celebrate the imminent release of the third and final book in the Edge of Darkness series, Bloodlines, the first book in the series, The Enemy Inside, is only 99c from January 8-29! Ebook only.

Get it at: on Amazon, Kobo, and TWCS now!

Bloodlines will be released on January 15!

Today we have a guest post from Sherri Hayes, who is celebrating the release of her latest bestseller ‘Welcome to Serpent’s Kiss’.

Check out all of Sherri Hayes’ releases:

Sensual Romance With Heart

http://www.sherrihayesauthor.com/

How do you stand out in the Kindle age?

Word of mouth is still as important in the age of eBooks as it was before—maybe even more so. The great thing about eBooks and self-publishing is that it has expanded the market and brought more books to readers. The downside of that is that, as an author, you have way more competition vying for reader’s attention. Getting the word out about your book is as important as writing and editing it.

Good covers are also essential. Not only do they need to stand out and make a statement when looking at the cover in full size, but also as a thumbnail picture on e-retail sites such as Amazon. One of the reasons I decided to have a custom cover made for my first self-published novel is because I know how important it is when it comes to drawing attention to the book. Anything that can make you and your book stand out in a good way is a plus.

-Sherri

Release Day Blitz December 4th

The one thing Katrina didn’t expect when she’d decided to
open a club was the human drama that came with it. Learning to balance her life
as the club mistress has taken some getting used to, but she wouldn’t change a
thing.

Sherri spent most
of her childhood detesting English class. It was one of her least favorite
subjects because she never seemed to fit into the standard mold. She wasn’t
good at spelling, or following grammar rules, and outlines made her head spin.
For that reason, Sherri never imagined becoming an author.

Beth Davenport has no interest in getting involved with
another man for the foreseeable future. To say her last relationship ended in
disaster would be a colossal understatement. The only reason she agrees to put
in an appearance at Serpent’s Kiss, a private kink club in downtown St. Louis, is
because her best friend, Nicole, won’t quit nagging her. When she walks in the
door that night, the last thing she expects to do is meet a man who will have
her reconsidering her ban on men.

Can’t wait for Bloodlines? Only two months to go!

Following the acclaimed debut of The Enemy Inside and its sequel, Broken, comes the stunning conclusion to the ‘Edge of Darkness’ series by investigative journalist Vanessa Skye, Bloodlines.

Detective Alicia “Berg” Raymond is lying. She’s lying to the Chicago Police Department, to her boyfriend, Captain Jay O’Loughlin, but most of all, she is lying to herself—about her past, her future, and her addiction.

As Berg investigates a series of brutal rapes, she juggles finding justice for the victims, keeping her own sordid past buried, and wrapping her damaged head around living in a state of domestic bliss she’s certain she doesn’t deserve.

But when enemies from the past threaten her present, she is once again vulnerable to the demons that have plagued her. It’s only a matter of time before the lies unravel and destroy the fairy tale she’s finally started believing.

Can she save anyone from the lurking darkness or will her own bloodlines drag her under—this time for good?

Bloodlines will be released January 15, 2015.

Can’t wait? Read the first chapter here!

Read the other books in the Edge of Darkness series:

The Enemy Inside (Get it on Amazon)

Broken (Get it on Amazon)

Stay tuned for Bloodlines cover reveal on November 12!

Praise for The Enemy Inside:

‘THE ENEMY INSIDE is dark, raw and not for the faint of heart or stomach. As fascinating as the whodunnit is, Berg and Jay are equally interesting. While THE ENEMY INSIDE is a dark read there’s a strong undercurrent of hope as it showcases the strength of kindness, caring, and resilience of the human spirit.’

‘The Enemy Inside had me shaking in my pajamas and I loved every bit of it.’

‘It was a mind blowing experience to see how the whole thing came together. If you want to try your hand at a serial killer cop drama, pick up The Enemy Inside today! You won’t regret it.’

Praise for Broken: 

‘I  loved this so much. The pacing was great, the twists very clever, and the characterization made you unsure of motives, which added to the suspense.’

‘Vanessa Skye has done it again with another amazing novel. ‘

‘This book .. whoah.. THIS Book!.’

Six months is a loooong time to wait, but it’s finally here! The cover for the third and final book in the Edge of Darkness series, Bloodlines!

Following the acclaimed debut of The Enemy Inside and its sequel, Broken, comes the stunning conclusion to the ‘Edge of Darkness’ series by investigative journalist Vanessa Skye, Bloodlines.

Detective Alicia “Berg” Raymond is lying. She’s lying to the Chicago Police Department, to her boyfriend, Captain Jay O’Loughlin, but most of all, she is lying to herself—about her past, her future, and her addiction.

As Berg investigates a series of brutal rapes, she juggles finding justice for the victims, keeping her own sordid past buried, and wrapping her damaged head around living in a state of domestic bliss she’s certain she doesn’t deserve.

But when enemies from the past threaten her present, she is once again vulnerable to the demons that have plagued her. It’s only a matter of time before the lies unravel and destroy the fairy tale she’s finally started believing.

Can she save anyone from the lurking darkness or will her own bloodlines drag her under—this time for good?

Bloodlines will be released January 15, 2015.

Can’t wait? Read the first chapter here!

Read the other books in the Edge of Darkness series:

The Enemy Inside (Get it on Amazon)

Broken (Get it on Amazon)

A second old friend that I had regretfully lost touch with has taken their own life just THIS YEAR.

This is so unacceptable that two lovely, kind, necessary people in this world felt like they had no other option but to end their own lives.

This year has been challenging. It is a transforming year, meaning many people are being confronted by things they don’t want to be confronted by. This happens so that we are forced to take a look at our lives and change what’s not working. It’s happened to me, and many, many other friends this year. 2014 is kicking some asses and it’s been hard, for everyone.

I have no idea what happened with each of these friends and it’s not my business, but I know because of the tough year that I’ve had dealing with depression following the death of my beloved Mum that sometimes you can go to a bad place where you think that the world would be better off without you. That you honestly believe that nobody would miss you or mourn your passing. That you think your family would be better off because you ruin everything you touch.

No matter how low you get, I can say with 100% certainty that this is categorically NOT the case.

As the lovely Michael Wheeler posted today: ‘YOU are a source of joy to others. You are here on the planet at this time for very special reasons and a real purpose. You are a source of joy to others and your life is important.’

The world would not be better off without you. Your family would definitely not be better off without you. We would miss you, the world would miss you. You are here for a reason and you are important.

For all of those lucky enough to not be feeling this way, maybe now is the time to take stock of those around you. Even someone you haven’t had contact with for a while. Even somebody who you think is surrounded by enough love and support that they could never feel that way.

We as human beings have an instinct for this kind of thing but we stop ourselves from reaching out for fear that we are wrong, or that we’ll be embarrassed. Well, better we’re wrong than we lose even one more person to suicide. You could be the difference between a life lost and a life saved. Your reaching out could turn the tide for the better.

Depression is not just a low mood or feeling a ‘bit down’. It is not something that will pass on its own. In fact, left alone, it gets worse, because the feelings of being alone are reaffirmed. It is not something that people can just ‘get over’. It is not a case of just ‘sucking it up’. Depression is living a life without hope or joy. Ever. It is where everything you do feels pointless and you can’t imagine ever feeling happy or excited about anything ever again. It is an all-encompassing blackness that becomes so consuming that sometimes you just want it to end, one way or another.

So take a moment and ask someone if they’re ok. It means so much to someone who is questioning why they are here or feeling alone.

As for the friends who felt that had no other choice but to end their own lives: I’m so sorry you felt this way and I had no idea. I’m sorry that I didn’t get in touch or reach out when I could have. I am sorry for you and so sorry for your families, because your loss is massive and will never be okay.

There are also some great services on offer here, which are free and confidential, details below. It is not a sign of weakness to admit you need help, it is an act of strength. We all need help sometimes. But these feelings pass and with help you can find joy in life again. It is there just waiting to be rediscovered.

*Lifeline. Lifeline.org.au 13 11 14.

*Beyond Blue. Beyondblue.org.au. Loads of good support services listed on there, for depression sufferers, as well as their friends and family. Or call 1300 22 46 36

* blackdoginstitute.org.au

BLOODLINES

(Edge of darkness #3)

By Vanessa Skye

Prologue

Fifteen years earlier…

Young police cadet, Alicia Raymond, watched as her mother, Mary Raymond, raged hysterically at the funeral home attendant.

“What do you mean, he was cremated?” she shrieked, almost losing her balance. “Those are not the instructions I gave!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your husband was cremated yesterday, under your instructions. I spoke to you on the phone myself,” he said, his hands outstretched towards Mrs. Raymond as if trying not to inflame the obviously drunken woman in front of him. “Don’t you remember?”

Alicia felt sorry for the poor guy. Trying to calm her mother down now was pointless. She had been trying in vain to do the same since thing she could talk. By speaking, the attendant only made the situation worse.

Mary tried to focus on his face. “No, I do not! I have come here to pick up my husband’s body today. I have a plot all picked out at Greenhills cemetery, right next to mine!”

The attendant blanched as Mary’s breath hit his face, then sighed and crossed his arms. “I can release his cremains to you today, ma’am, and you can still bury him,” he said and glanced in Alicia’s direction.

She watched as he eyed her appreciatively and she returned the favor. He was a tall man, maybe in his early forties, with thick brown hair and deep brown eyes, much like Alicia’s own, punctuated with heavy brows. His last name was Rollings, but he definitely had the dark coloring of a man of Italian or Greek descent. She caught the smirk and raised eyebrow as he stared at her long legs encased in tight blue jeans.

She waited until he finally made his way back to her face and she nodded.

Maybe later, as a reward for doing such a good job.

Mary raged on, oblivious to her daughter and the attendant’s mutual attraction. “He was Jewish! He didn’t want to be cremated, it was against his beliefs!” she shrieked.

Alicia smiled slightly at the revelation that the bastard would rest uncomfortably for eternity.

An added bonus.

“Ma’am,” the man said and ice creeped into his inflection. “I cannot un-cremate a man. What’s done is done.”

“Well, you can guarantee I’ll be suing this funeral home, not to mention you personally,” Mary replied, trying to shove her index finger into the man’s chest, but missing and poking his shoulder instead. “This is a gross injustice! How dare you cremate my husband against his wishes!”

The attendant produced a folded piece of paper from his inner suit pocket and held it under Mary’s nose. “Is this your fax number?” He pointed to the digits at the top of the page.

Mary lost her balance for a moment as she tried to squint at the numerals.

Alicia caught her and held her arm until she steadied herself again.

Mary’s eyes widened. Even in her drunken state, she clearly recognized the number of her new fax machine, the machine she was so proud of as she was the first of her rich friends to get the latest, smaller model. “Yes. But—”

“And is this your signature at the bottom of the cremation order?” he asked, as if he were addressing a small child.

“It looks like it. But I did not sign that! I would never—”

“Ma’am, I hate to point out the obvious, but yes, you did. I distinctly remember speaking to you yesterday and you ordering his cremation immediately. You paid with your credit card over the phone—here’s the receipt!” He showed her the yellow credit card docket.

“I do not remember doing any such thing!” Mary cried. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob.

The man arched one dark brow. “Well, madam, you wouldn’t, would you? If you smelled anything like you do today, yesterday!” He turned on his heel and left them alone.

This time, Berg’s smile was impossible to stifle.

Oh, yeah. Definitely later.

Mary sagged against her daughter as she cried.

Alicia gently steered her towards the door, smirking to herself.

You don’t get though three years of foster care without learning how to forge a signature or two.

Blood Lines is the third and final book in the Edge of Darkness series. Get the first book, The Enemy Inside, and the second book, Broken. 

Praise for The Enemy Inside:

‘THE ENEMY INSIDE is dark, raw and not for the faint of heart or stomach. As fascinating as the whodunnit is, Berg and Jay are equally interesting. While THE ENEMY INSIDE is a dark read there’s a strong undercurrent of hope as it showcases the strength of kindness, caring, and resilience of the human spirit.’

‘The Enemy Inside had me shaking in my pajamas and I loved every bit of it.’

‘It was a mind blowing experience to see how the whole thing came together. If you want to try your hand at a serial killer cop drama, pick up The Enemy Inside today! You won’t regret it.’

Praise for Broken: 

‘I  loved this so much. The pacing was great, the twists very clever, and the characterization made you unsure of motives, which added to the suspense.’

‘Vanessa Skye has done it again with another amazing novel. ‘

‘This book .. whoah.. THIS Book!.’

I thought I’d dash out a quick blog because tomorrow I’m back into editing the final book of the Edge of Darkness series, Blood Lines. But this review of Broken on Passion for Pages really inspired me.

‘Vanessa Skye has done it again with another amazing novel.

I love that PFP gets the romantic interaction between Jay and Berg. There have been others who haven’t been as kind about the pair. But that’s okay, because I get that Berg, in particular, can be super fucking frustrating. It was pretty frustrating to write! And in an age of the popular romance novel (which I love, btw) everyone wants their happy ending.

But here’s the thing about life…sometimes there isn’t a happy ending…or at least not straight away. Work must be done first. Frogs must be kissed. And Berg is a damaged woman. And despite the fact that Jay clearly loves her, the thing about Berg is that she’s never been loved, by anyone, her whole life, until Jay. So she doesn’t think she’s deserving of it. Jay could tattoo ‘I love you Berg’ on his forehead and Berg wouldn’t believe it, because she doesn’t think she’s worthy of his love.

Relationships are confronting, even for the ‘normal’ among us. But as a good friend of mine notes, it’s in relationships where we learn the most about ourselves because they are transforming. Relationships are vehicles for learning and change, spiritually and emotionally, which is precisely why they are so confronting. Relationships move us forward in our journey in life, which is why I think it is really important to note they just because a relationship ends doesn’t make it a failure. You learned what you needed to learn. It is a societal construct that two people stay together for life. But that’s another blog entirely, and  I digress.

Jay and Berg have a love for the ages, there is nothing they won’t do for each other. And I’m sure they will get the ending they deserve. But first, the personal work must be done. Berg has to learn to love herself, just as she is with all her darkness and her drive for justice, before she can accept the love of another. And Jay? He needs to understand that Berg has this darkness, and it makes her who she is: the woman he loves. Jay’s very black and white, but Berg is all about shades of gray.

Whether he can accept her for what she is, and she can do the same, remains to be seen. But what’s important personally, for me as an author, is to show that love doesn’t conquer all, and problems don’t go away when your white knight arrives on his steed. Fairytales be damned, sometimes the princess has to rescue herself.

Broken

By

Vanessa Skye

Prologue

The assassin lay concealed in the dark shadow cast by the huge, silent air conditioning stack on the flat roof of the old high school. The blistering summer sun had been baking the dark roof all day, and even early in the evening, the asphalt was still hot and slightly sticky to the touch. It gave off a nauseating tarry smell that she could taste in the back of her throat.

Sweat formed on her upper lip and even more rolled down between her shoulder blades to wet her black sleeveless tee.

The nine-pound, bolt-action hunting rifle felt cold and smooth in her hands. She rested her flushed cheek against the Teflon-coated stainless steel of the barrel for a moment.

The magazine had a five-round capacity but she had only inserted two. Her initial plan had been to use accelerator cartridges, but identification no longer mattered—getting out alive was not the aim.

Her fingers trembled and she took a few deep breaths to calm her hammering heart and steady her hands.

It didn’t work. If anything her shaking seemed to worsen and the intake of air made her chest ache. More sweat beaded across her forehead and on the backs of her hands under her black leather gloves.

What’s wrong with me?

She looked at her watch. The target would be visible in the next five minutes, like clockwork.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to calm herself. Her head was pounding. Every time she moved, the motion surged through her skull, pain spiked in her belly, and she felt dizzy.

Sweat was pouring down her face now, stinging her eyes.

Any moment now . . .

Just as she’d expected, the target jogged into view at the end of the street. She gripped the rifle firmly, nestled the black synthetic stock into the crook of her shoulder, and rested her finger lightly on the trigger—waiting . . . willing her heart rate to slow.

Now! 

But her trigger finger didn’t obey.

The cops will be here soon. Take her out! You’re gonna miss the shot!

Her head throbbed incessantly as she argued with herself—the pain almost unbearable. The pounding in her skull was so loud. It seemed to be coming from outside her body, near the jammed stairwell door.

She felt unconsciousness coming as the edges of her vision went black.

No! You have to save the baby!

One thought played over and over as she sank into nothingness:

Don’t take another child from him!

Chapter One

You’re just like time.

Except you can still feel the shame.

All hands on deck now.

The sea is getting rough again.

–The Black Keys, “All You Ever Wanted”

Detective Alicia Raymond, better known as Berg, looked down into the glassy, staring eyes of the dead woman lying in front of her on the cool, unforgiving concrete.

She was crumpled like a paper doll on the downtown Chicago parking garage floor, shot in the back of the head, execution-style, in broad daylight.

Berg noticed the woman’s eyes were brown, similar to her own, in fact. She tried to shake off the strange realization, but she couldn’t stop staring into the glassy chocolate gaze of the poor woman in front of her.

There was an unspoken bond between them now, and she wouldn’t rest until this woman’s killer had been brought to justice.

It was her promise to all of the victims whose cases she worked on.

She looked one last time into the woman’s eyes. Soon, they would cloud over with a milky film, the pretty irises existing only in photographs and in the memories of her friends and family.

Berg flicked a glance down to the woman’s impressive engagement and wedding rings.

Yeah, there’s definitely a family involved.

“What do you think?” Detective Marco Arena asked. “No one saw anything; she can’t have been offed in public in the middle of the day. She must’ve been killed overnight.”

“No. Her eyes are open and clear. If she had been dead for more than a few hours, they’d be cloudy by now.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Arena replied.

Berg refrained from stating the obvious to her new partner: she was almost always right.

“Carjacking?” he asked, running a hand though his thick, black hair in a move Berg had come to realize over the last two months was a sign of exhaustion and frustration.

Lately, it seemed the number of murders in Chicago was out of control. Thanks to growing gang crime, their city was nearing the top of the murder capital list. Neither of them had had a full night’s rest for weeks. For Berg, it was standard operating procedure—even on a good night she never caught more than four solid hours—but Arena was fraying around the edges. Sad part? This latest murder of what appeared to be an innocent shopper didn’t even reach the top of the list of the macabre and violent deaths they had seen in the last two weeks alone.

“Car’s still here,” Berg muttered as she stooped to get a better look at the body, blowing away a loose strand of long, dark brown hair that had somehow escaped her tight ponytail. It was getting so long and thick as to be unruly, and it was getting on her nerves, but she resisted the urge to yank out the disobedient strand by the root and concentrated on the victim in front of her.

The top of the dead woman’s head was a matted mess of blood and gray matter—the bullet had passed straight through the back of her head and out through her shattered upper forehead. Berg moved the caked, dyed blond hair aside as best she could with her gloved hands—there were contact burns on the scalp. The gun had been pressed hard against the back of her head when she was killed. She looked to be in her midfifties, and was lying on her side in a pool of blood, facing the rear tires of a very expensive, custom built, black SUV.

Definitely not something straight off the lot.

“The killer probably didn’t want it seeing it’s splattered in goo,” Arena replied.

The vehicle’s cavernous trunk, which was open, had borne all the blood, bone, and brain from the killing. The bullet was likely lodged in there somewhere as well, and Berg had tasked the forensics team with finding it.

“Possibly.” She moved the woman’s head slightly—it still moved easily. She fingered the red streaks on ether side of the neck. “Looks like a necklace was ripped off here,” she said. “But the wedding ring is still there.”

Arena crouched down next to Berg and tried to wiggle the woman’s wedding rings off with his latex-gloved fingers. After several seconds of maneuvering, they came free. “He might not have wanted to wait around to get them off,” he said.

Berg frowned but didn’t answer as she looked away from the victim and took in more of the scene.

Groceries were scattered in a four-foot radius around the woman’s body, the brown paper bags spewing their contents on the cold, hard concrete like a college student at their first pledge. The woman’s purse lay where it had fallen, seemingly untouched. Her nearby shopping cart was still half-filled with bags.

Something’s off.

“Looks like she was transferring her bags from the shopping cart to the trunk of the car when she was ambushed from behind, killed with a single shot to the back of the head, execution style. My guess is a handgun, possibly a nine-millimeter. We’ll need to find the bullet to be sure. Blood and gray matter sprayed the car, she dropped the groceries, and fell to the ground,” Berg said.

“No witnesses have come forward.” Arena double-checked his notebook. “Which is strange since the gunshot would have echoed through the parking deck. You think it would have gotten someone’s attention, but no. A fellow shopper found her like this an hour ago and called 911.”

Berg watched the forensics team from her Harrison Street precinct, the 12th, as they combed the scene, photographing, and then bagging and tagging anything in the vicinity.

She frowned again.

“Oh no.” Arena sighed. “I know that look. Please, don’t sa—”

“This whole thing stinks,” she said. “It makes no sense.”

“In what way?” he asked, his dark eyes—darker than hers by several shades—flashing with both annoyance and curiosity.

“If it was a carjacking, why is the car still here? Along with her purse and jewelry. And what’s this ring? At least five carats?”

“Don’t ask me. You ladies are better at the bling,” he replied before blanching.

Berg glowered at him. She hated when he spoke in clichés, and he knew it. “I care as much about diamonds as I do about dresses and makeup, you Neanderthal.”

“I know, I know. Sorry.” He ran his hand through his short hair again. “I haven’t slept in several centuries.”

He hadn’t been able to stop the glance at Berg’s simple pantsuit at the mention of her wearing a dress. She caught him leering just like she did so many of the other officers she worked with, and shot him a look that left no doubt just where he could stick his leer.

“This looks more like an execution, not a carjacking.” She turned from the body to the surrounding area. “And, if no one heard the shot in this busy parking garage in the middle of the day, then the killer may have used a silencer. What carjacker does that? For that matter, what carjacker kills a woman, renders the car unsellable, then takes off without stealing everything else he can get his hands on?”

Arena shrugged.

“There is more to this,” Berg muttered.

“You think there is more to everything.” Arena said and wandered toward the car grumbling.

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