Crescent Creek Series by Viviana MacKade Book Tour and Giveaway :)


His Midnight Sun
Crescent Creek Book 3
by Viviana MacKade
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.
Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?
Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and a thirst for revenge.
Will Aidan and Summer survive the storm?

**Only .99 cents!!**
Summer closed the door, turned around but didn’t go to him. How could she? He’d bled because of her. For all she knew, a psychopath hunted Chloe too, since he went after the ones Summer loved. Her back to the door, she took a long breath. “It’s because of me.” 
“I’m sure someone said guilt was a silly feeling,” Aidan said, settling more comfortably on the couch. “Well, yes, but nothing ever happened to me. You almost died twice and maybe Chloe is in danger. I’m entitled to some guilt.” “Kiki will never leave my side from now until this crap is over and for the record, the first time death wasn’t even close, and the second time I was never really going to die.” “Because of very fortunate circumstances.” “I’m good, and Kiki will be safe. I’ll see to it.” He would. He would do whatever to keep them safe, and it hit her harder than a hammer. Too much fear, tiredness, love. All her efforts did nothing to stop hot tears from spilling. “I’d come all the way there to pull you close to me,” he said in a low, gentle burr, extending a hand to her. “But my doctor said I have to keep my arse glued to the sofa. Think you can help?” 
She shook her head, dried hot tears on the hem of her T-shirt. How could she accept his comfort when he’d almost died because of her? “Come here, mo aghrá, and let me hold you.” “You need rest,” she said between sniffs. “Later. Now I need you.” The man sure knew what button to press. Begrudgingly, she slid into his magnificent embrace. “Just like this,” he said, sighing in pleasure. “Close.” In his arms, as they both looked at her baby girl playing on the rug, she allowed tears to run free for what almost happened, what still might. She cried, quietly, until rage took sadness’s place, until a stubborn refusal to let a crazy person ruin everything raged in her. “I’m going to the sheriff tomorrow morning. I’ll tell her everyone I’ve ever known, everything that’s ever happened to me until she can figure out what’s going on. It’s her job, after all, and the Becketts always talk about how good she is. Well, I’ll put her to the test.”

Painted Love
Crescent Creek Book 2

Thou shalt not steal.

Oh, but Florence had, and would do so one last time.
Ten pieces her grandfather painted for her because he loved her.
Ten pieces her mother lost, along with anything else, for loving the wrong man.
She couldn’t get back everything he’d wasted away, but she’d be damned if she’d give up those paintings. 

Easy and genuine, Rhett loves his life–his family, his market, his town. Until he meets a British woman with grey eyes and a cute little smile. The woman he’s been waiting for.
The thing is, to love her is easy, but can he trust her?

When Rhett pushes to uncover her agenda, Flo knows she will lose something–the man she loves or what she’d been fighting for years. 
Which road will she choose?

**Only .99 cents!!**

All Those Miles I Have Walked
Crescent Creek Book 1

At eighteen, DJ had to make a choice–her heart or her dreams. Neither was wrong, yet either would break her heart. She chose the world. Over a decade later, she returns to Crescent Creek and to the one regret she's ever had–Scott. Scott’s always been steady as a rocky reef. He’d loved once and when she’d left, his strong heart had crumbled like a sandcastle. Now DJ is back, and Scott wants nothing to do with her. The problem? They share Eva, a close friend of both, and now Eva needs their help. Because of her, he’s stuck with DJ and he’d be damned, the woman still gets under his skin. DJ is a free spirit who needs the road under her feet. Scott is a family man who wants to groom his roots. With danger on their doorstep and a baby to keep safe, how much are they willing to compromise for love?

Crescent Creek, FL. July.

If that second pink line appeared, any kind of future was going to be over and done. Wiping away cold sweat from her forehead, DJ tried to breathe. Her dreams, young, unfocused and blurred, might hover in her consciousness but the hunger, the thirst for the world, were as defined as the buildings of her hometown. Small, quiet, Crescent Creek. Stale. Scott sat on the sidewalk of a deserted Pizza Hut parking lot like it was nothing, like their lives weren’t on the line. The scorching summer sun shone on his black hair. Behind his sunglasses, DJ knew determination gleamed just as bright in his dark blue eyes. Oh, he was freaking out. The twitch in his jaw, the tension in his stance said all. Yet here he was, cool as they come. “We’ll figure it out,” he told her quietly. “There’s nothing to figure out,” she bit back. “Nothing, until the three minutes are gone.” She hooked her hands on her hip, paced. “There will be only one line. One line, and we’re free.” 
God, it must play out like that. Scott didn’t say a word. She hated him for such restrain. She would have given anything for some emotional reaction, something to crash her own temper and fear and anxiety against. DJ eyed the white stick they’d laid face down on the concrete, leaned down to check the timer on the cell phone they’d put beside the pregnancy test. One minute gone, two to go. Christ, she was going to throw up. Fear zigged in jagged waves under her skin as she paced some more, uncaring of the heat, the heavy air, the sweaty clothes. Scott's voice cut through all of it, deep and commanding. “You'll start school come the fall–” “Pregnant at Berkley?” she snapped. “Yeah, sounds like every girl’s dream. And what about after? Uh? How am I going to study with a newborn?” Unfazed, he kept taking. “I will move west with you, find a job and help you with the baby.” “What will you do, Scott, really? Wash the dishes in some fast food?” “If it's what it takes, yes." His fingers started to beat a fast tap on his leg, the only clear sign of disquiet. "Eventually, you know what I'm going to do.” “Your restaurant.” He nodded. “I will have it, I might as well start from the lowest bottom. My family will help, so will yours.” Their families. Of course, they would help. Both she and Scott had grown up into that kind of love, that kind of support. Images of her mom popped and twirled into her head– exhausted after a day in court, yet helping her with a project for school. Sleeping on a chair at her bedside when she was sick. Giving up a big case because it would have meant being away from home for too many weeks. Her father had been there, too, but in a different way. It was her mom who had to choose more. Give up more. DJ pressed her hands over her eyes. She wasn’t ready to give that total devotion to another being, still needed her own mother too much to be one. She wished she was in her arms right now. Her mom would know what to do. DJ snatched the phone up. Two minutes gone, one to go. “We’ll make it work, DJ. We’ll need some adjustments, but if we plan it–” “Stop it! Don’t you see? Nothing will ever be the same if this is positive.” As the first tear appeared and was hammered down, she could almost see them: her dreams of seeing the world, of studying, of learning what lived beyond Crescent Creek. They were disappearing as fast as a jet boat fading into the open ocean. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered. “I can’t let it happen.” Scott rose. His mouth, so generous, so passionate, was a thin, unforgiving line. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t try to touch her. Simply stood in front of her. “What are you saying?” She shook her head, opened up her arms only to let them fall at her sides. “I don’t know.”

She Came With the Tide
Crescent Creek Book 0.5

He’s impulsive, fearless, and fun loving.

Erik Axelsson, Ax, had it all: talent, fame, money. He’d lived the rock & roll life fully and with gusto until it wasn’t fun anymore. Without a second thought, he’d traded the spotlight with the Floridian sun, and the guitar with a surfboard. Rich, and free from anything - what more he could need?

She’s innocent, scared, and in trouble. 
Andrea Smith escaped the life imposed to her when her parents joined a cult. After years on the run, hunger pushed her to accept a stranger’s offer for breakfast. She had no clue her life changed with that simple ‘yes’. 

But the past catches up with her, forcing Andrea to choose what person she wants to be: the scared cult member that obeyed in silence, or the new woman Erik made blossom. 

**Get it FREE!**

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.

What are your top 10 favorite books/authors?
In no particular order:
Edward Rutherfurd – London and Dublin
Emily Bronte – Wuthering Heights
Oscar Wilde – The Picture of Dorian Gray
Nora Roberts – anything by her, really.
Marie Force – Fatal Series
Suzan Elizabeth Phillips – It Had To Be You
Jude Deveraux – anything will do well
Wilbur Smith – The Egyptian Series
James L. Nelson – The Norsemen Saga
Bernard Cornwell –anything and everything

What book do you think everyone should read?
Any from the previous list (and His Midnight Sun, maybe?)

How long have you been writing?
Always, but in the past 5 years, I made it into my profession.

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?
One comes to me for each book. Aidan barged in when I wrote Rhett’s story and never left. But it’s not always the hero. DJ was the first one to wave at me, for example. But it’s usually one that comes to me and lets me know there’s a story to tell, and the others follow.

Do you see writing as a career?
Yes. You have to give it all you have like you would to a “normal” job, no matter if you do have a normal job already. You have to study, and get better, and always challenge yourself. As every work of art it’s hard work and, for the most part, unrewarding and looked down to. But any artist will tell you that there’s no other way.

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?
I read pretty much what makes me happy. Romance of every genre, love epic historical, a nice thriller. Of course, my favorite genre is romance.

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?
One at the time, please. It’s hard enough dealing with one couple, I couldn’t have more people in my head. I don’t take breaks from them in the first draft. It’s one long, painful obsession. After the first draft I’, a happy writer. I love to give it a week or so to settle, in which I study books of the craft of bookwriting. Then I start the editing, which I love. I fill in here, cut something there, I polish that character that seemed a bit off. I love that phase because it’s all about making the story shine and by then, I know my character well. It makes everything easier.

Pen or type writer or computer?
Pen for plotting and character building. Computer for everything else.

What made you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision?
Nora Roberts, and yes, it was the right decision. I’ve always loved reading, my whole family does it. I don’t have a single image of my mom, or my grandmother, without a book in their hands. But when I was 14, a school friend lent me a book by Her Majesty Nora Roberts and I remember thinking, “wow. I want to do this. I want to give people the same emotions I am feeling while I read. I want to do this”.

A day in the life of the author?
Boring. I think I speak from every Author, or at least the majority of Authors, when I say we accommodate our sweet butts on a chair in the morning, crack out fingers, and off we go into a different reality. Hours later we resurface in the real world, which is always a bit unsettling for the first few instants, and it’s evening, and we have to make dinner for our families.
Or, we sit down and start losing out everloving mind in research, in which case we’re nothing but a bundle of nerves and crabbiness because we can’t find exactly what we need.

Describe your writing style.
Fast, to the point, dialogue oriented.

What are common traps for aspiring writers?
Believing it’s going to be quick (money, some level of success) and when that doesn’t happen (it does happen to about 0.1% of first time author), they might give up. This is not a sprint race, it’s a marathon. You’re in for the long run, which could mean decades of eating crap before you have some recognition.

What is your writing Kryptonite?
Personal disquiet. AKA fights with my husband. I hate fighting with him. He’s the silent, no more than a couple of lethal words kind of person. I’m all about bursts and action (at some point, there might be flying objects he’d learned to dodge perfectly). Regardless of our styles, I hate when we fight. It throws me off big time, I can’t concentrate, let alone slip into another person’s mind.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
How do I know what readers want? I do know they want a good story with character they can sympathize with because is what I want as a reader. Everything beyond that, I can’t know. So I write about the characters that come to me and ask for their story to be told. I do it the best I can, and everybody is happy. The characters have their story told; I did what I was made for doing; the readers can chill with a good book. Everybody wins.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Start earlier. My husband had to push for years before I finally started. I didn’t think I could do it.

What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex?
Men are so easy. Which, for a woman, is complex to understand and write. When I get too tangled up in reactions, way of solving problem or the such, I ask my husband or my male friends. The answer is usually the easiest one…

Do you believe in writer’s block?
Not as much as I believe in writer’s burnout. You spend days, weeks, into someone else’s mind, living their problems as if they were yours. Here is where the crazy stuff starts. On one hand, you have the need to shut yourself up, negate yourself and the way you would act, talk, think. You’re channeling someone else, someone who has feelings, hopes, expectations, hurts that are not yours. You feel what they feel, all of it. Good and bad. But on the other side, to understand them you have to dig deep into yourself and find some old pain you can relate to. And you re-live it, over and over again.
It can get emotionally heavy, sometimes.
You just wish you could be alone in your head.
Of course, the only way out is to finish the story so the characters quiet down–so you keep pushing, keep forgetting about yourself while re-living your past pain. Awesome.

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