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Monday, November 4, 2019

Blog Tour- THE DEVIL AND DAYNA DALTON by @BritLunden With An Excerpt & Giveaway!



I am stoked to be hosting a stop on the blog tour for RTHE DEVIL AND DAYNA DALTON by Brit Lunden! I have an excerpt to share with you today check it out and enter to win the giveaway below!
About the Book:


Title: THE DEVIL AND DAYNA DALTON (Book 9) A Bulwark Anthology
Author: Brit Lunden
Pub. Date: September 30, 2019
Publisher: Chelshire
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 128
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindle, B&N, TBD
Read for free on KU!

Reporter Dayna Dalton's reputation has been ruined since birth. The daughter of wild child, Becky Dalton, is expected to follow her mother's footsteps; never given a chance to prove she's different. Dana's been in love with Clay Finnes since she was a teenager. Her unrequited love for Sheriff Finnes leaves her empty. He's happily married and unavailable. Instead, Dayna finds herself stuck in the revolving door of bad relationships. But this is Bulwark, Georgia, a town where strange things are always happening. Dayna is doomed to this loveless life until she can find someone who will appreciate the depth of her character. Can she overcome her fears and look beyond her own perceptions to accept a greater love?

*Contains Sexual Content*

P R A I S E   F O R   T H E 
B U L W A R K   S E R I E S   A N D   B R I T   L U N D E N

“If the Brothers Grimm and Stephen King had co-authored a novella, Bulwark would be the result. Lunden’s story is a modern, paranormal take on the classic Hansel and Gretel. If you like to sleep with the light on after having the wits scared out of you, Bulwark is the perfect read.”~ BlueInk Review (Bulwark)

Bulwark is all about the plot. Lunden keeps the narrative moving at a brisk pace, introducing one catastrophe after another, only to delicately bring them all together. Every character has a purpose; every line advances the story, con-founds the reader, but offers necessary clues.”~ BookTrib (Bulwark)

jam-packed with elements that will give readers the heebie-jeebies.~ Kirkus (Bulwark)

“The novel is very effective at creating atmosphere, conjur-ing a Gothic world populated by monsters and the stuff of fairy tales.”~ Joseph S. Pete, Foreword Reviews (Bulwark)

"Readers who grew up with the likes of Barker, King and Lovecraft will have a field day reading this classy, dark fan-tasy novella. And, yes, it’s that good. Lunden’s plot is first-rate and her writing is smooth, assured and polished to a high sheen. Bulwark is most highly recommended.”~ Jack Magnus for Readers’ Favorite, 5-Star Review, (Bulwark)

“The engaging tale’s centerpiece is the teens’ romance, with a Southern setting the author masterfully captures... The unadorned prose and concise descriptions make for a quick read all the way to the bittersweet ending...A short but undeniably charming love story.” ~ Kirkus Reviews(The Knowing)

Book Trailer:




Excerpt:
C H A P T E R   1
“I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love.”
~ Marilyn Monroe

The crisp, clear sunlight was not her friend.

Dayna Dalton winced at the bright light that squeezed in through the slats of the venetian blind. She reached over and gave the cord a hard tug, sending the pint-sized bathroom into near darkness. Behind her, the shower head dripped with a steady  plop,   plop that reminded her of the exposé she did on water torture in Guantanamo 
Bay that never got published. It was deemed too harsh to print.

The Bulwark  Advance preferred her to write fluffy pieces. She sneered thinking of the crap on her computer, the half-written article about the elusive Easter Bunny that awaited its final edit. She hung her head in shame, thinking of what her sorority sisters from Georgetown would feel if they knew where Dangerous Dayna Dalton had ended up. There’d be hell to pay in the form of eternal humiliation.

Dayna twisted the faucet, her freckled knuckle turning bone white from the effort. It was no use; the leak continued relentlessly, driving a hole in her throbbing head.  Oh, that last round of shots was totally not necessary.

No matter how hard she wrenched the faucet, the dribble continued. She thought she should ask her guest to fix it before he left. He was a plumber, after all. She was sick of this place. Dayna peered at her reflection in the mirror. She was sick of her life.
Skip Benson’s bearlike yawn turned into a growl from the bedroom. “Dayna.” His voice grated on her nerves.

Dayna rolled her kohl-smeared eyes.

“Dayna, come on back to bed.”

Dayna took a steadying breath and used both hands to grip the sink as if it were holding her up. What was she thinking last night? Skip Benson? How low could she go? A shudder ran through her lithe frame. That left only Trout Parker, and she could now report she had officially and irrevocably scraped the bottom of the barrel of Bulwark, Georgia.

She rubbed her forehead where a hammer banged against the inside of her skull.
Skip wailed for her to return to the warmth of the bed. Dayna wrinkled her nose, thinking about Skip’s performance, or rather what she remembered about  it. Oh yeah, too many tequila shots will make anyone  desirable, even stupid Skippy Benson.
She ran her fuzzy tongue over her dry teeth, fighting the urge to gag.

Skip Benson had never been on the football team,  the basketball teamHell, hed never even made the  chess team. He had been the school screw-up, and now  he could brag that he and Dayna had

Dayna turned away from the mirror with disgust, her cheeks flushing. She staggered to the doorway of  the bedroom. Using the frame to hold herself erect, she shouted, 
“Get up!”

“Wha? Skip rose, the comforter bunched at his  flabby waist, his chest bare and the pathetic tattoo of a red devil across the front of his right bicep.

Vague memories of kissing that image flitted  through her foggy brain. Dayna picked up a pillow  discarded on the floor during their frenzied arrival and threw it at his head.

“I said, get up and get out of here!”

Skip ducked, then slid off the bed, his behind exposed, another image of a werewolf on his left butt cheek. Dayna convulsed at a hazy memory of talking to that tattoo.

“You weren’t so eager to get rid of me last night.” Skip stood in all his naked glory, which wasn’t much.

“Ugh. I’m never drinking again,” Dayna muttered under her breath. “I said get dressed and get out of  here.” A shoe sailed past Skip’s head.

Her unwanted guest scrambled to find his clothes.

“Hey, cut it out, Dayna!” Skip was living up to his  namesake as he struggled into his work pants, bouncing toward the door.

Dayna’s face split into a demonic smile that was  known to strike fear in the hearts of single men everywhere. Here, she thought, was the elusive Easter Bunny.

She watched Skip hop toward his escape as though he  were in the Fourth of July potato sack race.

Dayna picked up a shirt that had been discarded on the floor and threw it at him. The garment appeared to have a life of its own and engulfed his head. Skip’s muffled cries were nearly smothered by the material. His hands tore at the shirt to no avail.
His fingersDayna looked closer, grimacing at the  dirt under his nails, and watched his wrestling match with the clothing. She pushed him into her shabby  living room, then out the door of her condo. Mrs.

Sweetpea, an antonym for sure, watched in revulsion as Dayna shoved her guest out of her apartment.

Dayna lived in Shady Oaks, a rundown condominium community, where she reluctantly shared a front porch with her neighbor. The building was a connected row of apartments that bordered undeveloped land, as though a builder had left the project unfinished halfway through. It was hot real estate when they released the first phase, and half the town bought investment properties. Then the real estate bubble burst, and the whole thing came tumbling down.

Dayna had an inside scoop about what was really going on, but once again, the paper wouldn’t print it.

The mayor had sold the land and gotten a back-end deal for it. He made a ton of dough and then skipped off to Colombiathe country, not Columbia, South Carolina. The builder had used inferior products, and once he went to jail for money laundering, the whole place went to seed. There was no one to call when things broke.

Dayna cast Mrs. Sweetpea a jaundiced eye, daring the nosy neighbor to say something about her guest.

While the old crone might have appeared to be like the proverbial sweet grandmotherly type, Dayna knew her to be an ornery bitch with a sting as sharp as an angry wasp.

She hated her; had for years. Thelma Sweetpea had been her babysitter back in the day when she was a small child. Dayna’s mother had dropped her off at the old lady’s house for the first nine years of her life.

Dayna looked at Mrs. Sweetpea and shivered. The old woman had moved into the complex a year and a half ago, cutting up Dayna’s peace. What were the odds they’d end up living next door to each other? She was a mean old woman, and Dayna felt judged every time those beady eyes settled on her.

Dayna considered moving but was so underwater with her mortgage, she couldn’t think of selling. She was stuck at Shady Oaks, and she was stuck with the prying eyes of Thelma Sweetpea.

Mrs. Thelma Sweetpea took out her aggression with a broom and started to sweep as though the hounds of hell had just taken a shit there. Dayna fought the urge to say something. Speaking with Mrs. Sweetpea usually ended up in a hissing contest. Dayna’s compressed lips turned up just a bit with a smile at the result of this morning meeting. Mrs. Sweetpea was in a frenzy of spring cleaning, as if she could wipe the interlopers from reality.

The sky was overcast, and even though it was springtime, the air was decidedly chilly. A wave of cold air stole under Dayna’s shirt, making it billow out. She tried not to shiver. Her bare feet felt the shock of the freezing concrete. She’d be damned if she would show that old biddy any weakness, even if it was unseasonably cold.
Dayna looked up at the watery sky, searching for a glimpse of the sun. Global warming was playing havoc with Georgia’s weather. Either it was extremely hot when it was supposed to be cold or freezing when the time of year dictated heat. It didn’t rain anymore; it stormed with funnel clouds that touched down, ripping homes and trailers from their moorings.

Mrs. Sweetpea stopped her sweeping to look at Dayna, her lips pursed as if she’d eaten something sour. Dayna returned the stare, her eyes observing the wrinkled face, watching the older woman judge her half-naked form.

Dayna’s freckled shoulder peeked out from an over-sized tee shirt. It was paired with her long, bare, coltish legs underneath. Dayna looked down and cursed when she realized she was wearing Skip’s tee. Glancing up, she realized he was struggling with  her shirt from last night.

Watching her neighbor’s shocked face, Dayna ripped Skip’s shirt over her head and tossed it to him. He paused in his scuffle with her clothing to admire her perfect breasts.

“I don’t have to leave,” Skip said with a broad smile.

“Oh yes you do, and don’t come back here.” Dayna turned around, her shoulders straight. She paused to look at the older woman, who stood with her jaw hanging in shock.

“Have you no shame?” Thelma Sweetpea sputtered.

Dayna looked back at the gawking plumber, then her scandalized neighbor. She shrugged indifferently.


“Apparently I have no shame at all.”



About Britt: 
Brit Lunden is a prolific author who’s written over 50 books in assorted genres under different pen names. Bulwark was her first effort in adult fiction and was chosen by several of her fellow authors as the basis for a new series, A Bulwark Anthology. Using her characters, they are creating new denizens in spin-off stories to this bizarre town. Brit Lunden lives on Long Island in a house full of helpful ghosts.






Giveaway Details:

3 winners will receive a finished copy of THE DEVIL AND DAYNA DALTON, US Only.

1 winner will receive a $25 Amazon GC, International.




Tour Schedule:
Week One:
11/4/2019
Excerpt
11/4/2019
Excerpt
11/5/2019
Excerpt
11/5/2019
Review
11/6/2019
Review
11/6/2019
Review
11/7/2019
Review
11/7/2019
Review
11/8/2019
Review
11/8/2019
Excerpt

Week Two:

11/11/2019
The Phantom Paragrapher
Review
11/11/2019
Delilah Bluette
Review
11/12/2019
Don't Judge, Read
Review
11/12/2019
Good Choice Reading
Excerpt
11/13/2019
Books a Plenty Book Reviews
Review
11/13/2019
Burgandy Ice
Excerpt
11/14/2019
Reese's Reviews
Review
11/14/2019
Owl Always Be Reading
Excerpt
11/15/2019
Lisa Loves Literature
Review
11/15/2019
Parajunkee
Excerpt

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