Friday, November 15, 2013

Blog Tour Review and Excerpt: Late Night With Andres by Debra Anastasia

Rising-star blogger Milla Kierce knows she's arrived when she sees the swag basket in her dressing room on the night of her late-night television debut. But before she can bite into the muffin that symbolizes her success, gunfire echoes through the TV studio. She's just hidden herself (mostly in plain sight) when the door flings open. Instead of a gunman, there stands one of the world's most popular rock stars, Gage Daxson, looking for his own way out of danger.

Thrown together, they'll battle a venomous man seeking revenge and his own sexual pleasure, but they may never leave the building again. Distracted by fear, fame, and infamy, can these two somehow find their way to each other?

Equal parts horrifying and hilarious, Debra Anastasia's Late Night With Andres offers more than a few twists and turns—and, of course, enough heat to keep things interesting.

100% of the proceeds generated from sales the novella Late Night with Andres will be donated by Debra Anastasia, Omnific Publishing, and all the staff members involved, to assist in the battle against breast cancer—because cancer sucks.

My Thoughts:
I completely loved this novella, just like everything else I've read by Debra Anastasia. Filled with suspense as well as hilarious and inappropriate humor, it was unpredictable and different. It didn't take long to read, which was good because I had to read it in one sitting. This story gives new meaning to the phrase "exchanging digits." Get ready to laugh yourself silly. It's crazy and fun and suspenseful with some romance mixed in. Just a lot of awesome in a small package. And the proceeds go to breast cancer research. Get it now and thank me later.

My Rating: *****
Steam Factor: !!
*Notes: Language

My Source: blog tour


“When he comes in here, we’re both going to jump him. Kick, punch, bite. Do everything you can. I’ll try to knock him out.”

She wriggled and brushed at her ear. “I’m ticklish there. What do you mean when he comes? Maybe he won’t find us.”

She faced him instead of whispering in his ear, but at least she was quiet.

“Plus, I can’t do shit in these heels.”

Gage pushed himself down to her feet and started working on her buckles.

“These shoes are really complicated. You won’t—”

When he slid the heel from her foot she stopped talking. He took off her second shoe.

“Don’t look up my dress.”

Gage set her shoes quietly aside and crawled on his elbows until he was next to her again. “I’m trying to save our lives, not get a peek at your black panties.”

She punched him in the arm, painfully.

"Did I guess right?" He smiled, trying to get her thinking rational thoughts. If he was going to have a chance of getting out of here alive, this girl needed to at least be a distraction.

"I don't remember what color they are. I'm just trying not to pee in them." She looked back at the locked door.

"Okay, stand up. Grab something, and let's get ready to kick some ass." Gage held out his hand, and she took the offered assistance. 

"I'm scared." She picked up a curling iron off the vanity.

He put his finger in front of his lips to hush her. The gunman's footsteps echoed in the hallway. Milla's eyes locked on the handle of their door. At the last second, Gage grabbed her arm and pushed her behind the couch. She wasn't going to be any help. 

The door vibrated with the first kick. After the next it splintered.

Where to get it:

Where to find the author:

About the Author:
Debra Anastasia grew up in New York and got a bachelor's degree in political science at SUNY New Paltz. At the start of her marriage, she moved to southern Maryland with her husband. She still doesn't trust crabs and all their legs, though everyone else in her family thinks they're delicious. Her favorite hobbies include knitting, painting furniture and wall murals, and slapping clowns.
Her writing started a decent handful of years ago when along with the dogs, cat, kids, and husband, the voices of characters started whispering stories in Debra's ear. Insomnia was the gateway for the plots that wouldn't give up, wouldn't let go. In the shower, a twist would take hold and--dripping and frenzied--she'd find somewhere, anywhere to write it down.

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