Lotus Blossom Lane — Annie Rose Welch



Lotus Blossom Lane

by Annie Rose Welch Blog Tour


Life after Yuma was blissful for Layla and Michael. After the old Red Dirt Road, their journey seemed to be moving them in the right direction, leading them to Ireland. As the road to happy ever after leads them down Lotus Blossom Lane, years of entombed history starts to reemerge. What has been exhumed will not only shock them, but change the course of their lives forever. And who is waiting for them at the end of the Lotus Blossom Lane, one of the biggest and brightest stars in the world, will bring them to the next road in the Saving Angels Series.


Meet the Author:

Born and raised in New Orleans, Annie has a habit of shortening her words and telling long stories. She speaks with a southern flair and cooks with it too. At the tender age of twenty- one, she hitched up her wagons (took her first plane ride) and moved out west to the big shake (California). Her writing career began one sleepless night when she imagined a gorgeous woman and a man with maniacal hair floating above her like lightening bugs falling from the sky. Curious about them, their story, and why they were floating around in her head, she sat down and penned (typed) her first novel, Marigny Street. A dream come true for her, she hasn’t stopped writing since. She loves a damn good love story, always has, no matter what the genre. She is particularly moved by imperfect love that in its own unique way is perfect, the notion of love at first sight, soul mates, and things that are generally out of the norm.

When she’s not writing she enjoys dabbling in photography and finding new, inspirational music to add to her collection. She currently (still) resides in the big shake (although her southern roots are calling her home) with her husband, daughter, and their two peculiar dogs, Boudreaux and Tabasco (who, call her crazy, bark with an accent).

For lagniappe (a little extra), a virtual cup of café au lait and beignets, please visit Annie’s website:


She can also be found on Facebook & Twitter.



A traditional Celtic cross with a ring in the center, the ring almost like that of a halo, now stretched from the skin below his neck, all the way down to the lower portion of his back. Surrounding the cross were feathered wings, from shoulder to shoulder, the top sweep of them almost resembling the intensity of flames when they are at their hottest and highest. Above each wing, on each shoulder, was the head of a bird. The bird was always keeping watch; there would never be a part of him unprotected. Michael’s eyes looked forward; the birds each took the sides of their respective shoulders; and me, I would always be the eyes behind him. My name was written in beautiful script around the band.

Because of the detail and enormity of the tattoo, it had to have been done in sessions. Now that it was complete, it was one of the most gorgeous things I had ever seen. When he moved, when the muscles in his back flexed from side to side, up and down, I could’ve sworn he was going to actually fly. In that moment, I whispered a silent prayer that the armor now on my soon-to-be husband’s back would turn him into a bulletproof angel.

As she slid herself on top of him, he kept his fists at his sides, clenching the bed sheets until they were strained against their own fabric. She stilled herself on him, staring down into his hooded eyes. She was testing her limits; she was testing his restraint. She couldn’t bring herself to move yet.

 It took all his strength to stay idle and not move inside her. To feel her warmth, to give her pleasure the way it was supposed to be given. Between two people who had found love in each other; had found something worth living for, something worth dying for.

Her desire for him came in waves. She would be overcome by warm, crashing swells that stole her breath and made her yearn for another with impatience. Then a frigid undertow would take her, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to rise above it.

 Another crest of desire, warm and wanting, washed over her, and she began to move. He released the sheets and showed her just how beautiful it was to be touched with a delicate hand, to be kissed with a slow but ravenous tongue, to be watched earnestly, to be given the freedom to put his hands wherever she craved, to put her hands wherever she wanted to explore, to be loved by a man who simply adored a woman and wanted to please her in the most sacred way possible.

 For the first time, Eliska was burning from the inside out. She believed this was the order of true love.

 To be touched on the inside by love is to burn from the inextinguishable flame of something so mysterious, something that feels so real, you pray it never leaves on the outside. Consume me, consume me, consume me, in every way, lover, consume me.

 This was true love; this was Eliska’s love without any bounds. The way she had always dreamed of it to be. No paper, no shackles and chains, the only reason for it that their souls told them they had no other choice.


 Her instincts just told her this was right. Her love would be safe with him for eternity.




“I will always try my best to say what I mean and mean what I say. We are never promised tomorrow or a second chance. The one regret I would never be able to work through would be losing you.”


Social Links:

Website: www.annierosewelch.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/angelwriter11

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnieRoseWelch

Goodreads book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20933719-lotus-blossom-lane?from_search=true

Goodreads author: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7159582.Annie_Rose_Welch







Book Information:


Marigny Street-





Barnes & Nobles:


Red Dirt Road-





Barnes & Nobles:







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