#BookBlitz – OUR CHRISTMAS PROMISE by Tara Randel


On Tour with Prism Book Tours

Release Blitz for
Our Christmas Promise
By Tara Randel

Our Christmas Promise:
A Christmas Wedding Story
(12 Days of Heartwarming Christmas)
By Tara Randel
Contemporary Romance, Holiday, Novella
ebook, 129 Pages
October 9, 2018

Melissa Upton and Justin Caswell have been best friends since they were kids. Now, they’re all grown up and things have changed, for Melissa at least. She’s content running the family bridal shop, Candlelight and Lace. Excited about an upcoming wedding. She doesn’t even mind attending weddings with Justin, until he dubs them wedding buddies. And now that he’s back in Christmas Town, Melissa realizes she wants more. If she goes after her heart will she lose her best friend?

Justin is back home to take care of business for his estranged father while he recovers from a heart attack. He’s launched his own successful career, is happy with his single status. Until he feels the distance Melissa has put between them. What’s up with his best friend? The more time they spend together, involved in Christmas Town holiday preparations, the more he realizes she’s hoping for more in their relationship. Can Justin see that being in love, and remaining best friends, is the best of both worlds?

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Excerpt

Jaycee tossed a paper towel in the trash and met Melissa’s gaze in the mirror over the sink.

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell who what?” Melissa asked as she dug in her bag for lip balm.

“Tell Justin you have feelings for him.”

Melissa froze. Blinked a few times and glanced at Jaycee. “What are you talking about?”

Jaycee rested her hip against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t play dumb with me. I see how you look at him, especially when he doesn’t know it.”

“He’s my friend and I’m glad he’s home.”

“Really? That’s it?”

Melissa shrugged and resumed her searching. “What more could there be?”

“You tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Then why don’t you date?”

Melissa gripped the tube of balm in her fingers. “I date.”

“Name the last time you went out with a guy.”

She racked her brain but came up empty. “College, maybe?”

“That was six years ago.”

“No…it can’t be that long.”

Jaycee arched a brow.

“Wait. I went out with Roger Pierce for a while.”

“Until he moved away.” Jaycee shook her head. “I’m telling you, you have it bad for Justin.”

Did she? Did that explain the tingles she’d been trying to ignore? Or had she been without a significant other for too long now?

Slowly spreading the balm across her lips, Melissa met her own gaze in the mirror. Clear brown eyes peered back, but a rosy red had crept into her cheeks. She recognized the look, had seen it on dozens of bride’s faces through the years.

Good grief, was she in love with Justin?

“Do you care for him as more than just a friend?” Jaycee asked when Melissa had been quiet too long.

“Of course not.”

Despite her words, Melissa flashed back to that Christmas Eve many years ago when they’d promised to be friends forever. How they’d carried through on the vow, remaining friends through high school and stayed in touch when he left Christmas Town for college. She understood why he didn’t return, so she’d made sure to visit him in Boston. Once their friends had started to marry, meeting up at weddings had become their thing. But was that good enough for her now?

Tossing the tube back in her purse with more pressure than she intended, Melissa closed the bag. Pushed her unsettling thoughts away. “You’re imagining things.”

With a shrug, Jaycee pushed from the counter. “If you say so.”

“I say so,” she said, yanking the door open to return to the raucous, overcrowded pub.

About the Author


USA Today Bestselling Author Tara Randel has enjoyed a lifelong love of books, especially romance and mystery genres, so it didn’t come as a surprise when she began writing with the dream of becoming published. Family values, mystery and, of course, love and romance are her favorite themes, because she believes love is the greatest gift of all. Tara lives on the West Coast of Florida, where gorgeous sunsets inspire the creation of heartwarming stories, filled with love, laughter and the occasional mystery.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – LOVE, CHRISTMAS – MOVIES YOU LOVE

Love, Christmas – Movies You Love
(The Holiday Series, #2)
Publication date: October 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

Sprinkle a little Christmas magic into your life with 25 ALL-NEW, never before released romances. Each title – exclusive to this set – is inspired by a favorite holiday movie, spun into a fantastic love story by a NY Times, USA Today, and/or award-winning, bestselling author and delivered to you in this wonderful collection full of cheer for the coming season.

Mimi Barbour – A Wonderful Life – Though Rylee works with troubled teens, can she and an angel help a man living a nightmare?

Leanne Banks – A Royal White Christmas – Can a secret prince be a Christmas wish-come-true for a small-town girl?

Joan Reeves – Brianna’s Season For Miracles – Her seductive persona hides what she’s ashamed of… What will happen if the man she’s fallen for discovers her secret?

Mona Risk – Jingle With My Princess – The doc and the princess… He saves lives, but she may save his heart.

Rebecca York – Can She Get Home for Christmas? – Will a killer stop her from getting home for Christmas?

Jacquie Biggar – Mistletoe Inn – A grieving man finds the greatest gift is love.

Alicia Street – Miracle on Christmas Tree Street – A single mom discovers her business partner is more than he seems.

Nancy Radke – The Holiday (Christmas) – Jodi’s house-swap to Maui came with a small dog and a shipwrecked sailor.

Katy Walters –Letters from the Snowman – The snow revealed a precious love.

Stephanie Queen – Holiday Affair – Melissa goes from riches to rags but will she find gold in a holiday affair?

Aileen Fish – Christmas in Connecticut – Can a wounded warrior learn to trust her celebrity chef crush after discovering his secret?

Rachelle Ayala – A Christmas Creek Carol – A reclusive writer is given a one-star review on her life by characters from her past, present, and future.

Dani Haviland – The Polar Xpress – She prefers dogs to men…until she rescues the doctor.

Traci Hall – Love, Actually (By the Sea) – Two strangers. One intimate night. Reunited a year later, can it actually be love?

Taylor Lee – The Ref-er-ee – With a family this discombobulated, it will take a referee to save their Christmas.

Donna Fasano – Her Mr. Miracle – It’s Christmas Eve and Veronica is stuck in a nearly deserted seaside town… She needs a miracle.

Cynthia Cooke – A Christmas to Remember – A Christmas storm. Wedding plans in peril. Has a lost love been found?

Susan Jean Ricci – A Joyous Holiday Inn – Can Twigg restore the joy of Christmas to Chloe’s indifferent heart?

Tamara Ferguson – Two Hearts Home for Christmas – Can a long ago promise of love bring two lonely wounded warriors home for Christmas?

Suzanne Jenkins – Christmas with the Clouds – Tracy isn’t interested in love until an unexpected Christmas visitor changes her heart.

Natalie Ann – How Gavin Stole Christmas – Can Jolene help Gavin find the Christmas spirit when he’s the epitome of Mr. Bah Humbug?

Ev Bishop – A Sharla Brown Christmas – For single parents Sharla and Jake, Christmas is the loneliest time of the year…until it’s not.

Alyssa Bailey – In the Spirit of Christmas – Chase can protect Tara from danger, but can he protect his heart?

Stacy Eaton – Finding Love on Christmas Vacation – Christmas isn’t the same for Lucy without her father…until she meets his friend Maverick.

Jen Talty – The Christmas Getaway – A mix-up in reservations leaves a mother and her son to share a cabin with a broken-hearted stranger.

Melinda De Ross – Boyfriend Wanted for Christmas – A thirty-something singleton’s desperate yet humorous quest to find a boyfriend in the seven days before Christmas.

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SNEAK PEEKS:

A Wonderful Life by Mimi Barbour

Prologue

“Clarence, you haven’t stopped watching Noel Bradford for days. What in the world is happening to that young man?”

“I’m glad you noticed my preoccupation, Sir. I’m afraid he’s not doing too well. Do you remember a man called George Bailey?”

“Certainly, I do. Wasn’t he the reason you got your wings?”

“Yes, that’s him. Well poor Noel Bradford is heading in the same direction; he’s on the bridge right now, ready to jump. I’m thinking it’ll take the same interference to stop him from killing himself that it took to prevent George from doing the same thing many years ago.”

“I see. Then what are you waiting for, Clarence? You must go and save him.”

“I suppose you’re right. I just hate the thought of that icy water. It took me forever to warm up the last time.”

“Clarence, if you stop that poor fellow from ruining all the lives of the people who will one day love him, I’ll send you the wherewithal to get warm, now off with you. There’s no time to waste.”

Chapter One

Noel Bradford never believed himself to be a coward, a weakling who gave up in troubled times, a man whose shoulders were so narrow they couldn’t bear misfortune.

He was wrong.

Four days ago, when the police had knocked on his door to give him the horrifying news that his parents and their driver, his only brother, had all been killed in a car accident, he’d thought nothing could get worse.

They were heading to their favorite resort in Aspen when their car careened over the bank of the mountainous road, dropping into a lake probably 400 feet below. The back end of the car, where the license plate could be seen through binoculars, proved it was their vehicle and the chance of any survivors was nil.

A Royal White Christmas by Leanne Banks

Chapter One

A baying howl cut through the early December night, even through the walls of the cottage Brice rented. He glanced up from the material he was studying and the baying howl echoed again. The fireplace crackled, and Brice knew the snow was still falling.

Again, the baying howl broke through the quiet.

Sighing, Brice rose from his laptop and peered out the window. The floodlights revealed nothing. He was going to have to brave the cold, he supposed.

Tugging on his boots, jacket and gloves, he opened the door and trudged outside. “Talk to me beagle or hound,” he muttered.

Another howl cut the air. Several moments later, Brice found the beagle wagging its tail, its leash wrapped around a tree trunk. The beagle whined and barked. He immediately noted that the dog was female. “Well, good evening to you, Miss. A fine mess you’re in. Let me help you out.” He unwound the leash and waited for the beagle to run for freedom. Instead the dog came at him and licked his hand.

“I know you have an owner,” he said. “That’s a nice leash.”

The beagle continued to nuzzle at him and whine.

“I guess you can stay the night. It’s a nasty one,” he said and looked at a tag. “Brandi,” he read. “I’ll give your owner a call, but you can stay the night.”

Brice pulled off some chicken and rice from his leftovers and offered it to the dog. She gobbled it up quickly. “You have a good appetite,” he said and dialed the number on the dog tag. The number rang and rang then disconnected. Brice frowned. “That’s not good,” he muttered to himself and punched in the number again.

 

 

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  • 5 Love, Christmas 1- Put a song in your heart! (e-copy editions)

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – MONTANA DREAMS by Kim Law

Montana Dreams
Kim Law
(The Wildes of Birch Bay #4)
Published by: Montlake Romance
Publication date: September 25th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Sometimes dreams change…and sometimes it takes a dream reader to make it happen.

When Jaden Wilde’s girlfriend turns down his marriage proposal just months before he receives his master’s in counseling, he’s convinced that it’s cold feet. Until he learns that her no came at the advice of a new age “dream reader.” But Arsula’s hardly the woo-woo hippie his scholarly mind imagined. She’s charming, smart, and uncannily perceptive. And before long, he’s drawn to her—despite his ongoing skepticism for how her practice works.

Arsula’s intuitions led her to Birch Bay not to guide Jaden’s girlfriend—but to guide him to his best life possible. As the odd one out in an unsupportive family, Arsula can relate to the struggle to find one’s path, and she wants to see Jaden with the woman of his dreams. Although she’s cautious of being the rebound girl, what she’s starting to feel for him is too real to ignore.

When Jaden’s own volatile family issues come to a head and his doubts are made resoundingly clear, Arsula worries she’s misread the signs. Maybe they’re all wrong for each other. Maybe he should be with his ex. She’s supported him, but if he can’t believe in her, how will they ever find out if they’re truly meant to be?

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EXCERPT:

The ringing of a bell interrupted her thoughts, and when she realized it was coming from directly below the open door, she rose and crossed the room. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, with a light now shining in the stairwell, was Jaden, dressed in a pair of black slacks she hadn’t seen before—split at the knee to accommodate the cast—a white button-down shirt, and no expression on his face whatsoever.

The bell kept ringing.

“I take it you need something?” She rested her shoulder against the doorframe and shot him a sarcastic look.

“I do.”

“Is that so?” She highly doubted it. She made a show of angling her head in both directions as if checking to see that nothing looked out of place. “You don’t look to be in pain of any sort.”

He rang the bell harder, but his lack of expression didn’t change.

“Jaden,” she finally yelled out, and his hand quit moving. “I’m busy up here.” She thought about the website and had the idea to show it to him. Would that help him to see that she wasn’t just a flake?

Did she really care what he thought about her?

She did.

And for some reason, the idea of showing it to him excited her.

The bell started up again, before she could make up her mind to grab the laptop and take it down to him, and as the noise clanged louder, Jaden’s expression went from nonexistent to one of mulish intent. He clearly intended to keep ringing the blasted thing until she went down there.

“Stop ringing that bell!” Though she hadn’t heard the noise in days, he’d rung it enough the first couple of weeks to make her regret ever giving it to him. And at the moment, she regretted forgetting to take it away.

“Then come down here and see what I want,” he yelled back.

“You don’t need anything!”

The noise stopped so abruptly that she weaved in place, suddenly off balance. “But I do,” he told her, and this time his tone was sincere.


Author Bio:

As a child, award-winning author Kim Law cultivated a love for chocolate, anything purple, and creative writing. She penned her debut work, “The Gigantic Talking Raisin,” in the sixth grade and got hooked on the delights of creating stories. Before settling into the writing life, however, she earned a college degree in mathematics and worked as a computer programmer. Now she’s pursuing her lifelong dream of writing romance novels. She has won the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award, has been a finalist for the prestigious RWA RITA Award, and has served in varied positions for her local RWA chapter. A native of Kentucky, Kim lives with her husband and an assortment of animals in Middle Tennessee.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – SCANDALOUS by Sybil Bartel

Scandalous
Sybil Bartel
(Alpha Bodyguard #1)
Publication date: September 10th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Bodyguard.

Babysitter.

Chauffeur.

Not what the hell I thought I’d be doing with my life.

Especially not for a spoiled Hollywood actress on location in Miami Beach. But triple pay and carrying a gun had its advantages. I’d shove away paparazzi and screaming fans for a lot less. The Marines trained me to be Force Recon—intimidation and crowd control was child’s play compared to four tours. This assignment should’ve been easy money.

But the doe-eyed starlet with the perfect ass dragged me down her rabbit hole. Living for the spotlight, she leaked the perfect scandal. I warned her making headlines wasn’t in my job description, but she kept smiling for the cameras.

Now she was going to find out just how scandalous a bodyguard could be.

*SCANDALOUS is a sexy standalone book in the new Alpha Bodyguard Series!

The Alpha Bodyguard Series

SCANDALOUS – Tank’s story

MERCILESS – Collins’s story

RECKLESS – Tyler’s story

RUTHLESS – Sawyer’s story

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EXCERPT:

“Do you like me?”

A bite halfway to my mouth, I froze for a fraction of a second. Then I chewed slowly and kept my eyes off her, because it was all part of the game. “You don’t strike me as the insecure type.” I took another bite, not knowing if I should be disappointed in her lack of confidence, or watching her for whatever game she was trying to play me with.

“This isn’t about insecurity,” she countered.

Bullshit. She was wondering why I’d said what I’d said. Horny as fuck, bored with talking, I dropped my fork and grasped her nape. Then I put my eyes on her.

She drank me up like she was starving.

Deliberately, I picked her fork up, stabbed some food and brought it to her lips. Lowering my voice, I tested her. “Open your mouth.”

For two heartbeats she stared at me.

Anticipation surged, wondering if she’d comply, but ultimately hoping she wouldn’t. I bent women. I made them cave to my commands, then I gave them the mind-blowing orgasms they wanted. But it was never a challenge. It hadn’t been for years. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been a challenge.

That alone should’ve been a warning. But add in the fact that I wanted this young-as-fuck, spoiled, hot mess of a woman to be my own personal fuck toy, and I should’ve been calling Luna to tell him to pull my ass off this assignment.

The only smart move was to disengage.

But I didn’t fucking do it.

I increased the pressure on the back of her neck, I touched the food to her lips, and I actually put fucking effort into my command. Stroking her neck, taking the threat out of my tone, I dropped my disinterested expression and let her see how goddamn much I wanted her. “Eat the food, Audrina.”

 

Author Bio:

Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.

Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.

She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.

To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – THE RETURN HOME by Jen Talty

The Return Home
Jen Talty
Publication date: September 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Major, Dylan Sarich, knows only one thing: Delta Force. He has dedicated his life to the Army and his country and can’t imagine doing anything else.

Until the unthinkable happens.

During a top-secret operation, Dylan is nearly sent home in a body bag with the rest of his team. With his wounds still fresh and on extended medical leave, Dylan returns to his hometown in Jupiter, Florida to heal his body. However no amount of physical therapy will destroy the demons lurking deep in Dylan’s soul.

Dr. Kinsley Maren is an expert in PTSD and brain trauma. When her neighbor comes to her, begging for help with her son, Kinsley can’t say no, especially when she meets Dylan. She’s certain she can break through the anger and help restore his confidence and mend his broken heart. Only she never expected he’d steal hers.

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EXCERPT:

Dylan eased himself back in the luxurious sofa in the Vanderlins’ vast family room that had to be the size of his mother’s double-wide. He let out a long breath, wondering why he felt so bitter all of a sudden. He never went without as a kid. Sure, his parents didn’t buy him a brand-new car the day he turned sixteen, but they did teach him the value of a dollar, the importance of a good work ethic, and how to stand on his own two feet.

The Vanderlins’ had done the same, they just could also give their kids their own pool, a view of the Intracoastal and the ocean, along with fancy schools.

Well, fuck, Dylan had gone to West Point. That was quite the accomplishment, and Mia and her family weren’t a bunch of rich assholes who treated those with less like they were beneath them. They were good people who didn’t deserve Dylan’s foul mood.

“Let’s get all these munchkins in the tub,” Dylan’s mother said as she chased down Kayla, Ramey’s daughter who had the energy of the sun and tenacity of a lion protecting her cubs. The kid had no fear and a giant-size confidence in a pint-size body.

“Grandma. Get me!” Tyler, Nick’s oldest, exclaimed as he tried to catch up, but to no avail. While he also had boatloads of energy, he had a timid side to him and a soft heart, which was going to get him in trouble with the ladies.

“Do I have to take a bath with them?” Abigail said, clinging to Logan’s pant leg. “Can’t I have a shower? I’m a big girl now. Not a baby.”

Dylan bit back a smile. Nothing like listening to children try to reason with their parents.

“I’m no baby,” Kayla said, stopping dead in her tracks in the middle of the open family room, swiping her blond curls from her face.

“You’re my baby girl,” Ramey said from his spot on the floor.

Kayla rolled her eyes, pushing out a long breath.

“You’re so in trouble with that one. The female version of Ramey,” Dylan said with a laugh.

“But better looking like her mama,” Ramey said, reaching out and grabbing Kayla, tossing her to the floor and tickling her belly while she giggled.

“Daddy!” Abigail fisted her little hand and sent it crashing into his shin. “I want to take a shower.”

“You love Nana’s big tub. Now go with Grandma. Nana is setting up the big television in Mommy and Daddy’s room for you all to watch Nemo,” Logan said.

“Fine,” Abigail said, pointing her little, pudgy finger up at her father. “But only if I get popcorn.”

Dylan put his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe the smile off his face, but damn it felt good to feel lighthearted about something.

“Don’t talk sass to your father, young lady,” Mia said, coming in from the kitchen and scooping the little girl up in her arms. “I’ll help your mom.” Mia kissed Logan on the cheek. “Tequila and Leandra have the two babies upstairs. We’ll leave you boys to catch up.”

Nick waltzed in with a bottle of wine and four glasses. He held them up in the air. “I think this family has turned me into a wine snob.”

Logan took the glasses, setting them on the coffee table. “You know, that bottle doesn’t cost more than thirty dollars. My father-in-law has an entire cellar full of inexpensive wine and that’s his favorite.”

“I don’t think I ever even tried wine until you and Mia got back together.” Nick plopped himself on the sofa. “And now I think I prefer it over beer half the time.”

“It’s called being a mature grown-up,” Dylan said before he burst out laughing, then coughing as he clutched at his side. “Shit,” he muttered. “That fucking hurts.” He breathed slowly and not very deeply. The last x-ray showed his ribs were close to being healed, but not close enough.

“You okay?” Nick rested his arm on Dylan’s shoulder.

Ramey and Logan had both moved closer, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“Do I look like I’m okay?”

“You’re a bigger baby than any one of those toddlers,” Ramey said in a teasing tone. “Every time you got hurt as a kid, you’d ball like a little girl.”

“That’s funny coming from you since when you thought you broke your arm, you screamed like a dying cow, and it was only a sprain.” Logan finished pouring the wine, making sure the glasses were filled and the bottle empty. “Here’s to one for all, and all for one.”

Dylan clinked his glass with each of his brothers. “I’ve got your back.”

His brothers repeated the mantra. A deafening silence filled the room. Dylan sipped his wine, his thoughts going back to his father. Images of his childhood flashed across his mind. Running and playing in the street with his brothers. His father and Logan teaching him how to swing a baseball bat. His father and Nick teaching him how to shoot a gun. And he and Ramey building a picnic table for their neighbors under the watchful eyes of their father.

But it always came back to their last fishing trip.

The last time his brothers had seen their father alive.

The next day, Dylan watched his father take his last breath.

Logan swirled his glass. “Dad hated wine.”

“But he drank it for Mom,” Nick said. “Every anniversary and every birthday, he’d bring her a bottle.”

“And daisies,” Dylan added.

“He’d harass the hell out of us for actually enjoying this bottle.” Ramey took a big swig. He enjoyed wine, but he drank it like he was doing shots. “I can hear him say, ya’ll are a bunch of wusses. Real men drink Crown.”

“God, I hate that stuff.” Logan shook his head. “I remember right before I went off to college, Dad gave me a shot. I thought I was going to puke right there.”

“I’ve got news for you,” their mother said, waltzing into the room with another bottle and a glass for herself. “He hated that shit too.”

“Such language, Mom. Really. My poor innocent ears.” Ramey held out his glass, while his mother went about filling everyone’s before snuggling on the sofa between Nick and Dylan.

“Ramey, you’re about as innocent as Logan is funny.” His mother patted Nick’s leg.

“Hey. Thanks a lot, Mom,” Nick said.

“If he hated it so much, why did he drink it?” Logan asked, rubbing his chin. “I just always remember there was a bottle in the house, and oh boy, when Grandpa came to visit, they’d stay up drinking that swill all night.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. His father loved that stuff, and it was just your dad trying to bond with him. Your dad pretty much only liked his beer.”

“You’re joking,” Dylan said, staring at his mother with his jaw gaping open. They spoke of their father often when they were all together, but their mother rarely gave up any stories other than the usual tales.

“Nope.” His mother shook her head. “So, when your grandpa died, your father decided he should at least continue with the tradition and tried to get Logan to drink that crap.”

“He gave me and Joanne a bottle of it on our wedding day,” Nick said. There had been a time when Nick couldn’t even utter his late wife’s name.

Dylan tapped his chest. His heart beating faster. He loved his family. Loved being with his brothers, but as always, shortly after he arrived, he began counting the moments until his next deployment.

Only this time, he didn’t know when that would be.

“He wanted to carry on what his father had started.”

“I read Tyler The Little Engine That Could every chance I get,” Nick said with a sigh. “Dad loved that story.”

“That he did. Almost as much as he did fishing.” His mother finished her drink and stood. “It’s nice to have all my boys in one place again.”

“It’s good to be home.” Dylan reached up and took his mother’s hand and kissed it. “I mean that.”

“I know you do. I also know the second you get the thumbs up, you’ll be in the back of a C-130 transport plane on to your next assignment.” She bent over and pressed her lips on his forehead. “But until then, I’m going to have my boys together as much as I can.”


Author Bio:

Jen Talty is an award-winning author of Romantic Suspense. Dark Water hit #10 in Barnes and Noble and her books have been in the top 50 on Amazon. Jennifer grew up in Rochester, New York. She recently retired from being a full-time hockey mom as her children hung up their skates. She and her husband still live in Rochester while her children travel globe. Jen was the co-founder of Cool Gus Publishing with NY Times Bestselling Author Bob Mayer. For more information about Jen Talty please visit: jentalty.com.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – A WEDDING IN CORNWALL by Laura Briggs

A Wedding in Cornwall (Books 7—12) by Laura Briggs

Genre: Romance /  chick lit

Publication Date:  5th September 2018

Series?: Books 7-12 in a series

Estimated Page Count – 584 (Each book is around 100 pages)

Purchase Link – http://smarturl.it/cornwallbooks7-12

Synopsis

The last six novellas in the UK bestselling series A WEDDING IN CORNWALL are now available in one collection! Join American event planner Julianne in her final set of adventures ‘across the pond’ in beautiful Cornwall. From celebrity sightings to a local talent show, from a charming village fete to a secret Cornish garden, there’s never a dull moment for Julianne and her Poldark-esque true love Matthew in the quaint village of Ceffylgwyn.

This collection contains A Romance in Cornwall, A Star in CornwallA Sewing Circle in Cornwall, A Talent Show in CornwallAn American in Cornwall, and A Garden in Cornwall. Exclusive bonus materials include a sneak peek of the author’s all-new 2019 Cornish romance series!

Excerpt

Thank you so much to Uma for featuring an excerpt from my newest book bundle, A Wedding in Cornwall: Books 7-12! This scene comes from Book 9 in the series, A Sewing Circle in Cornwall, and shows Julianne’s struggle to fit in with the local crafters she has joined for a project at the upcoming village fete:

I had officially joined the eclectic Ceffylgwyn Patchwork Sewing Circle this month:  a group which was known somewhat endearingly as the ‘patch and natter’ society by non-members in the village. Like sewing, nattering wasn’t my strong suit either, but I was doing my best in the mostly-female crowd, who were under the impression that my being an American automatically made me a skilled quilter.

“I finished mine just this week,” said Julie Finley, proudly. “All cat blocks, this one. I had loads of ginger scraps and midnight black left from the little horsie wall quilt I sewed for my daughter’s birthday last month — from that American pattern I saw in the ladies’ journal, you know.”

She spread her latest creation across Olivia Russert’s farm kitchen table, displaying its patchwork cats in ginger, tabby brown, sleek black and grey, carefully appliquéd with stitches so tiny I couldn’t even see them.

We all ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the little details, the miniature butterfly and clever poppies fashioned from orange and red fabric. Julie had even stitched tiny whiskers on her cats.

“How lovely,” said Charlotte. “I like that one. The wee white cat in the center is lovely. Mine’s not half as good,” she sighed, spreading out her half-finished quilt.

Hers was a masterpiece with a clever design of canning jars assembled from block and triangle patches, each one featuring a vibrant fabric. A different brown-patterned material as a dividing strip between block rows created the effect of wooden shelves or cubbies.

“Oh, that’s a proper job, love,” said another member.

Among the quilt blocks in the works by the circle’s members were sailboats, compass stars, flying birds, and four patches. The theme for this month’s projects was ‘village life’:  the finished ones were destined for sale at the upcoming village fete, which was expected to be bigger than ever, thanks to extra effort from Lady Amanda’s village tourism committee. Especially since the fete’s organizers were even talking about having a celebrity ‘master of ceremonies’ for the event.

Since the cause was a good one — raising money for an overseas refugee hospital — I was all too happy to help. Needless to say, that’s how I ended up with a sewing needle between my fingers, since the local participants in the most need of help were the members of the sewing circle, who had lost two members recently to job transfers. So, in addition to helping Lady A fill out forms and write press releases, I decided to help fill the club’s gap as their newest addition, crafting a four-and-nine patch to help raise funds for the cause.

Well, maybe for the cause. With the talent I was exhibiting, it might not be worthy of joke gift status among the fete raffles’ prizes.

Giveaway

Giveaway to Win A Wedding in Cornwall – 3 different prizes (Open Internationally)

1st Name Drawn will win – A paperback copy of the anthology to be shipped to the winner by the author via Amazon

2nd Name Drawn will win – A digital/eBook copy of the anthology to be sent via email

3rd Name Drawn will win – A Smashwords coupon code good for a free download of 1 ‘Surprise eBook’  from the Cornwall series of novellas

*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then I reserve the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time I will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.

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MeetTheAuthor

Laura Briggs PhotoLaura Briggs is the author of several lighthearted romance novels and novellas, including the bestselling Amazon UK series A Wedding in Cornwall. She has a fondness for vintage-style dresses (especially ones with polka dots), and reads everything from Jane Austen to modern day mysteries. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with family, caring for her pets, going to movies and plays, and trying new restaurants.

Social Media Links

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – PRIVATE CHARTER by N.R. Walker

Private Charter
N.R. Walker
Publication date: August 24th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Stuart Jenner’s job is high stress, high stakes, and everything he’s strived for. So why, when the apex of his career is within reach, does he stumble? At his doctor’s insistence, he books a privately chartered yacht to sail around the Whitsundays for two weeks of sun, surf, and sex. When his friend-with-benefits bails on him at the last minute, Stuart decides to go alone.

Foster Knight left the rat race behind six years ago, bought a yacht, and now calls the Great Barrier Reef his home. Sailing tourists around tropical waters is all in a day’s work, and he’s never been happier. When his next client arrives alone, the two-week charter will be the most private job he’s ever had.

Foster can see how stressed and exhausted Stuart is, and he promises him extensive rest and relaxation. Stuart slowly realises his original plan for two weeks of sun, surf, and sex might not be lost yet. Confined to a yacht, isolated by aqua-coloured oceans and the sweltering sun, Stuart and Foster are about to find out just how hot the tropics can get.

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EXCERPT:

While he ducked downstairs to grab his things, I dropped anchor and pulled over the sun visor. Stuart came back up, vest gone, towel draped over his arm, and the bottle of sunscreen in his hand. He held it out to me. “Would you mind?”

I took it and rolled my eyes. “It’s not exactly a hardship.”

He chuckled and turned around, giving me his back. I applied sunscreen, covering his back and the nape of his neck, rubbing his shoulders, and even giving him a little massage. “You’re not so tense today,” I said.

“Imagine how relaxed you could get me,” he said, his voice low. I dug my thumbs into the knot of his shoulders, intending it as a jab to what he said, but he moaned instead. “Jesus, your hands…”

I dropped them and took a small step back. “You’re done.”

He turned to face me, his imploring gaze full of mischief. “Would you mind terribly doing my front? I’d hate to get sunscreen on your yacht.”

I stared at him. And Jesus, he was being serious.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He looked around the cockpit. “I know. That’s why I asked. I’d hate to get sunscreen on your seat or your ladder when I hold on.”

I fought a smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I know.” He sighed dramatically. “Well, if you won’t do it for me, could you watch me do it and point out any parts I miss? I’d hate to get sunburnt.” He dropped his towel onto the seat and made a show of pouring sunscreen onto his palm. How could he make that sexual? God, it may as well be honey, or lube, or any-fucking-thing I’d like to lick off him.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, then he rubbed it all over his chest, his abs, down below his navel… and his eyes never left mine. His tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth, and he stretched his neck and rubbed one hand over his throat while his other hand slipped just under his Speedos. It made me look at the bulge barely concealed by his swimmers. “Did I get everywhere, Foster?”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to make eye contact. “You were pretty thorough, yeah.”

One corner of his mouth rose in a sexy-as-hell smirk. “I’ve been told that before.”

My nostrils flared. “You don’t play fair.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m not playing.”

Fuck.

Sure, it was summer, and sure it was the tropics, but that had nothing to do with the sweat that beaded all over my body. I let out a shaky breath and reached up to a line of sunscreen he’d missed under his eye and smeared it with the pad of my thumb. I wanted to slide my thumb across his lip. I wanted to slip it into his mouth, let him suck on it…

“Join me,” he whispered. “You know you want to.”

I knew exactly where we’d end up if we got into the water together. “I was going to make a start on an early lunch,” I replied. There was no conviction in my voice, and he knew it.

He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I’m not hungry for food.” Then he turned, collected his towel, which he dropped near the ladder, and dived into the water.

I all but collapsed onto the seat, taking in deep breaths. I wiped my forehead, my face, and felt my heart hammering in my chest. Jesus, Lord have mercy, he was going to kill me.

I shouldn’t encourage this. I should have told him when this whole playful flirting thing started that it was a no-go. I had rules in place for a reason. I had a business, a reputation.

I also had a hard-on that wasn’t going away any time soon.

I had urges and desires that I hadn’t wanted to act on with anyone else. Then Stuart Fucking Jenner boarded my yacht and everything went to hell.

I should go down to the galley and prepare some lunch. I should turn on the TV for a distraction, or read a book, or go into my bathroom and take care of my aching dick, thinking about anything but him.

Him in the water, just a few metres away. Him, with the come-fuck-me eyes, who wants me to join him—and not just join him in the water. Him, with the scorching hot body who’s offering himself to me. Him, yes him.

I should not want him. I should not want this. And most of all, I should not get into the water with him. I knew how it would end. I would dive into the water with him, and he’d swim over to me with that devastating smile, and he’d reach out for me and I’d pull him close. He’d wrap his legs around me and I’d tread water, holding us both up, and he’d crush his mouth to mine. I’d finally get to taste him, to have that gorgeous pink tongue of his in my mouth, and then we’d bring it on board. On the deck, on the cockpit seat, down in the cabin, on the floor, on the table, in his bed, in mine.

“Fuck.”

I stood up, pulled my shirt over my head, took two long strides, and dived headfirst into the water.

 

Author Bio:

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things…but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – HOT HONEY KISSES by Addison Moore

Hot Honey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 17)
Addison Moore
Publication date: August 23rd 2018
Genres: Comedy, New Adult, Romance

What do an obnoxious attorney, a coed gone wild, and a corpse have in common? Shep and Serena are about to find out the hard way.

Spending summer in Hollow Brook will be murder. …

*this is a standalone romance*

When Serena lets her roommate talk her into going to an exotic nightclub that promises to make all of her wildest dreams come true, she’s mortified to find the man behind the mask has an all too familiar obnoxious face. But it turns out Serena and Shep share more than a penchant for soft restraints—they share a propensity for trouble. Finding a corpse places Serena and Shep right at the top of the suspect list, and try as they might to unravel the mystery themselves, they discover that time has already run out for the two of them. Or has it just begun?

From the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author, Addison Moore—Cosmopolitan Magazine calls Addison’s books, “…easy, frothy fun!”

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EXCERPT:

ONCE UPON A BODY

Serena

The place to be in Hollow Brook on a hot Friday night—and I mean hot in the most literal sense—is the Black Bear Saloon. Since the weather in Hollow Brook itself has devolved into Satan’s armpit, the Black Bear is about the only place to get decent air conditioning along with your fair share of hard bodies. It’s June. School is out and summer has descended upon us like fire-breathing cats and dogs raining down like a punishment. Everyone under the sweltering sun has arrived at the restaurant-slash-bar for a night of boozy festivities and all of the sleazy events that will ensue thereafter.

Of course, I’m here with my shortest skirt, my tightest tank top, in a quasi-manipulative effort to pull in the big tips. God knows I need them. The bigger, the better. I might have scored a scholarship to Whitney Briggs University, but that free ride sure doesn’t help with the incidentals of life, such as that cute cherry red bikini I’ve had my eye on and the perfect matching shade of fiery red MAC lipstick—all specifically chosen to highlight my auburn hair.

My sister, Lex, and I both have our deadbeat of a mother’s deep red locks. Although, Lex has an ebony undertone and I’m more Little Mermaid. Not that I mind the cartoonish nature of my beastly mane. I’ve come to embrace it. Hell, I’ve come to embrace just about every quirk and jerk about me—and I kind of mean the jerk part literally. In no way do I set out to come across as a jackass. It’s just that the constant stream of sarcasm that spouts from my mouth is often misconstrued as surly and inconsiderate—as detailed to me by my sweet cousin, Sunday.

Sunday has always been as puritanical as her moniker suggests—with the exception of that whole getting knocked up after a one-night stand gone wrong last winter, but I digress. It’s merely the beginning of summer, and the humidity is already creating a sticky situation. The place is pumping, and I’m hopeful that all of these moderately drunk bodies will equal more than enough to buy a string bikini or two once the night is over. Heck, I might even make enough to fill my gas tank and venture down to the beach to show off my new stitches. There is nothing like a North Carolina white sandy beach in the summer.

I’ve just crested the entry of this fine establishment, passing the overstuffed black bear that greets the guests just outside the doors. It’s usually mobbed by freshmen waiting their turn to sneak in the obligatory selfie, and tonight is no different with three prepubescent looking girls trying to dry-hump the poor thing in the process.

I glance to the floor as my fingers work in haste to tie on my apron, only to have a brick wall of a body slam right into me.

Crap. My nose just pushed in like an accordion, and my strawberry lip-gloss just smacked its way onto someone’s salty flesh.

The brick wall moves back a step, only to reveal himself as a tall heap of muscles—my lip print neatly pressed against his neck—greasy blond hair, and a dangerous smile on his equally greasy lips. Yes, he’s handsome, but he’s got a cocky air about him that says I’ve got a power drill in my pants and I’m not afraid to wield my tool belt. But that squirrely look in his wicked eyes spells out insanity more than it ever does the stable committed type, so I attempt to sashay to his left, but he sidesteps right along with me. His brows bounce in amusement, and I can’t help but note he has that perennial bad boy appeal—and not in a good way—I’m talking fresh out of the slammer tattoo factory, body is a coloring book right up to that lip print I gifted his neck, eyes red with rage and quite possibly the aftereffect of a quasi-illegal substance. He’s older than me by a decade at least. My guess is he’s no frat brat, just a roving troublemaker looking to get drunk and sunk between some poor unsuspecting barfly’s thighs. And as long as he’s got at least a ten-dollar bill with my name on it in that dingy pocket of his, I couldn’t care less what illegal substances or raging sluts this greaseball does to fill his downtime.

“Watch where you’re going, kid,” he barks it out like a reprimand while trying once again to charge right through me. Instinctively, I slap my hands over his chest, sending him sailing backward as his phone slips from his pocket along with a tiny white receipt.

His cell makes an awful slapping sound that penetrates the music blasting through the speakers, taking the decibels in this place to jet engine levels. Oh crap. That can’t be good.

“Did you just push me?” he barks once again, his upper lip set in a snarl as if he were a rabid dog—an insult to rabid dogs everywhere.

“You bet your greasy dollars I did.” My voice is a bit snippier than usual, but I can’t help it. This block of less than hygienic flesh has my blood boiling. “I suggest you watch where you’re going and think twice before referring to me in a derogatory manner—likening me to some kid. I’m all woman, moron, and don’t you forget it,” I shout up over the 12 Deadly Sins, the house band happily blaring away while Dirty Boy—and yes, I don’t mind one bit reducing him to the childish moniker—bends over to pick up his cell phone with an alarming lightning-shaped crack running the length of the screen.

Dear God, how I pray it was damaged well before our scuffle because I sure as heck don’t have two nickels to buy him a new one. I’m pretty sure a week’s worth of my measly tips wouldn’t be able to fix a cracked screen either. And a douchebag like Dirty Boy will certainly want to pin the blame on me.

His eyes narrow in on mine, dark and beady. “Honey, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Stay out of my way. And if you’re still around by the end of the night, I’ll gladly take you out back and teach you a lesson or two on how to be a real woman.” He winks while brushing his finger over my cheek, and I gag on a thousand different expletives. Dirty Boy dives to my left and thankfully disappears in a flurry of bodies.

“So help me God, I will kill or maim that jackass before the night is through,” I mutter. And just as I’m about to rush over to clock in, the receipt that fell from his pocket catches my eye and I pick it up myself. “On top of being a sexist idiot, he’s a damn litterbug, too.” I glance at it a moment. It’s just a string of numbers written across the front. I plunge it into my pocket without thinking. It’s probably last night’s bed-hopper’s number. I bet after a few beers he’ll be willing to fork out the big bucks to get this valuable promise of STDs back in his possession.

Cole, the bartender, nods my way as I make my way over to clock in. Holt, one of the owners, is usually working alongside him, but he and his wife, Izzy, just had a sweet baby girl named Paige.

Baby fever seems to have swept through Hollow Brook this last year as evidenced by my sweet and yet not-so-innocent cousin Sunday getting knocked up after a one-night stand that she happened to have with the love of her life, Seth. They’re officially together now—engaged to be exact.

Sunday wants a simple courthouse wedding, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting that legal nightmare ensue—the courthouse, not the wedding. Lex and I are gunning to surprise her with something nice at the overlook come Fourth of July. Seth says he’s fine with it, but if the moment arrives, and Sunday decides it’s not what she wants, we’ve agreed to pull out of the endeavor. Pulling out isn’t something in which Seth is an expert, thus the fact their baby is due in September. But, overall, Seth is a great guy, and I just know they’re a perfect fit.

Seth’s sister, Misty, is married to Sunday’s brother, Nolan, so it’s kind of cozy that they’re keeping things in the family quite literally. Nolan, Sunday, and their brother, Rush, are my first cousins on my aforementioned deadbeat of a mother’s side. Since they lost their own mother more than a decade ago through a tragic accident and I lost mine due to negligence on her part—rumor has it, an old boyfriend and a casino had a starring role in the tragedy—my older sister, Lex, stepped in and played the part of mama bird to us all. It’s ironic, of course, since Lex was the least likely of the bunch with a maternal instinct. She’s sort of an anti-nurturer, but she did her best and we’ve all grown up in appreciation of her efforts.

As much as I love my sister, I’ve tried to keep my distance ever since I set foot at Whitney Briggs. Suddenly, she’s a tad too maternal now that my virginity has a glaring spotlight over it—no thanks to the fact Sunday had a fire sale on her own. Nevertheless, I plan on bumping into more than my fair share of bad boys while I’m at WB—sans Dirty Boy and that greasy grin of his. I’d like to teach him a lesson out back—with the working end of my stiletto.

I clock in before heading straight to my area and cringe at the matrimonial sight before me.

A bride.

A bride seated at a table set for twenty. A very bedraggled looking, sour-faced, pissed off bride with a dress that looks as if she just yanked it out of the bottom of a trash can, wrinkled, grimy—and is that a tire track across the front? I’m guessing the nuptials didn’t go the way God intended.

“Welcome to the Black Bear Saloon,” I say, hopping next to her while whipping out my notepad. “Can I get something started for you while you await the rest of your party?” Like a good divorce attorney perhaps, I want to add but shockingly don’t. Tonight seems to be taking on a life of its own. It sure doesn’t need me running off my mouth, even though Lex’s husband, Axel, is a perfectly good attorney turned restaurateur—and this poor bedraggled bride looks as if she needs the brightest and the best in the legal department. Axel and a couple of his buddies opened up a similar bar-slash-eatery over on the ritzier, far less studious, side of town called The Sloppy Pelican. Axel’s brother, Shep, is an attorney as well. I make a face without meaning to. It’s sort of my go-to response when that public defending nuisance comes to mind, and I do my best to swat him away like the mental gnat he is.

“She’s younger than me. She’s got big boobs, too.” The bullish and yet somewhat blushing bride smirks up at me.

Whoa. I take a step back in hopes to duck out of the toxic current she’s just emitted. It looks as if she’s coming in hot with a full tank of ethanol judging by that slight slur in her speech coupled with the vodka breeze.

She slaps her left hand on the table, and I can’t help but note there’s nary a sign of any ring or bling. “Hell, he probably calls them tits because men are pigs that way.”

“Uh…right.” No matter how much I agree with her I’m about to steer this conversation in a culinary direction when a mob of women in alarmingly matching, slightly dingy, bedraggled wedding dresses storm in. And sadly, I’m not in the least surprised.

At the moment, I’m talking to who I guess to be the head bitter bride, an older woman with severe bags under her eyes. Her face looks blotchy and bloated, as worn out as that gray dress she’s donned. A ratted veil is staked into her thick blonde hair, and it looks as if she just plucked it off a corpse bride—not that she doesn’t qualify as one herself. I clear my throat. “You know what?” I muse as the bitter bride brigade falls into their seats like a coven of angry witches whose spells have all just backfired. “Why don’t you ladies take your time with the menu? I’ll be back in just a bit to take your order.”

The head bride lets out a mean whoop while waving in another whole legion of runaway brides in this direction. “Oh, honey, this is going to be one hell of a breakup bash. I came within inches of that unholy altar before I saw the light, and believe you me I’m damn thankful. You just keep the margaritas coming. Hell, we can cut out the middleman. Just send the damn bartender this way. We’ll figure out what to do with him.” The entire table breaks out into cackles over that salacious remark.

***PICK UP A COPY TODAY AND FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!***


Author Bio:

Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Her work has been featured in Cosmopolitan magazine. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she’s not writing, she’s reading.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – LOVE, CUTTER by Michelle Jester

Love, Cutter
Michelle Jester
Publication date: August 28th 2018
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult

After an attempted suicide Carter finds himself in a coma. He is able to hear the world around him, yet he can’t move. What he hears propels Carter to begin to see life in a new way, especially when one of his nurses, Kinley, shares parts of her tragic past with him. Soon, Carter realizes he is falling in love with her.

Months after being transferred from the hospital, to a rehabilitation facility, he suddenly wakes up with a passion to live that he never had before and a determination to find the one person he feels may be able to help him put the pieces of his life together again. However, when he returns to the hospital, Kinley is gone and Carter must try to find her based solely on the things she shared with him while he was in a coma.

Only, nothing is as it seems and Carter learns the biggest lesson of them all… the differences between expectation, perception, and reality.

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Join the blog tour here!

 

Author Bio:

Michelle Jester lives in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and retired Master Sergeant. Together they have a son and daughter. She is a hopeless romantic and has been writing poems and stories for as long as she can remember.

One of her prize possessions is a bracelet with only a yellow, Rubber Duckie charm on it; which she wears every day to remind her to enjoy the fun and happy things of life!

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$20 Amazon gift card

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway – UNDISCLOSED by A.M. Salinger

Undisclosed
A.M. Salinger
(Nights, #7)
Publication date: August 21st 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I have a problem. His name is Lincoln “Asshole” Hudson. He’s the bastard who wants to run me out of town. I should hate him. Trouble is, Lincoln is my type. Like one hundred and ten percent. And, ladies, he has the biggest, er, package I’ve ever seen on a man — Eveline

I have an itch I want to scratch. Her name is Eveline “Sassy Mouth” Claude. She’s the woman standing in the way of what could be my most lucrative project yet. Eveline is my enemy. There’s one hitch: she’s the hottest thing on legs my dick has ever seen — Lincoln

When Eveline Claude discovers she doesn’t actually own the land on which her most successful club stands, she is determined to get it back from the man who has now laid claim to it. Unfortunately, Lincoln Hudson, the new landlord and über successful billionaire behind the Hudson Group, doesn’t want to play ball.

Lincoln Hudson is in Tokyo for a landmark deal that could help secure his company’s foothold in the Far East and expand his hotel business in a new and exciting direction. The only hiccup is, someone else thinks they own the prime piece of land he’s just bought. And that someone is a woman he very much wants to bed.

After Lincoln convinces Eveline into becoming his personal escort for the duration of his stay in Tokyo in exchange for considering leasing her the land, the two of them come to a mutual agreement; they will enjoy each other—socially and carnally—until such a time that their arrangement comes to an end.

But as their time together draws to a close, Eveline and Lincoln discover that they have more in common than just great sex. Will they let their business affairs sour what is growing between them? Or will they put aside their differences and accept that enemies they may have started as, but lovers is what they’re meant to become?

Discover Eveline and Lincoln’s story in this sexy and wickedly funny addition to the hot, contemporary romance series Nights by A.M. Salinger. Note from the author: although each book in Nights can be read as a standalone, you will enjoy this series even more if you read the books in order!

This is a novella length MF romance with a HEA.

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Sign up for the blog tour here!

EXCERPT:

Eveline Claude blinked slowly. “Come again?”

A muscle jumped in the jawline of the man seated on the other side of the conference room table.

“You don’t own the freehold to the Tokyo branch of Le Secret,” Malcolm Brooks repeated stiffly.

Eveline’s pulse started to race as she stared from Brooks to his poker-faced partner, Victor Kline.

“I’m sorry, did I just hear you say that I don’t own the tenure of one of my most successful business enterprises?” Silence greeted her stunned question. “Are you guys yanking my chain right now?” Eveline chuckled in disbelief. “You are, aren’t you? Because there’s no way my one-thousand-dollar-per-hour, top-notch city lawyers just informed me that they fucked up.”

Brooks glanced at Kline. “Told you she’d bring up the hourly fee,” he muttered.

Kline ignored his partner and studied Eveline with an impassive expression. “Of course, we’ll be working to resolve this matter pro bono. The mistake is ours and we cannot apologize enough on behalf of the firm.”

Eveline’s mouth went dry as she looked between the two men and realized they were serious. The first inkling that her day was going to turn out to be gloriously shitty began at six a.m., when the fire alarm in her apartment building went off. Having left Le Secret at two, Eveline wasn’t pleased that her much needed beauty sleep had been interrupted by some asshole who hadn’t figured out how to use his new waffle maker. Her ire rose tenfold when she went to collect her car from the underground garage and noticed the fresh scratch on her midnight blue Maserati. She’d made a note to ask the security guards to check the cameras covering the parking lot and had barreled out of the building and into the early morning Tokyo traffic at twice the allowed speed limit; she hated being late for an appointment and her nine o’clock meeting with Brooks & Kline was taking place on the other side of town. She’d made it to their office on the twelfth floor of the glass and steel high-rise housing their law firm with four minutes to spare and had waited impatiently in the conference room, curious as to why they’d requested the urgent face to face.

It was Brooks who’d called her the day before to set up the meeting.

“Something’s come up. We need to talk,” the lawyer said cryptically after Eveline’s assistant put his call through.

Eveline paused and lowered her cup of coffee, her gaze shifting from the busy dual computer screens on the desk before her, to the glorious views beyond the panoramic windows to her right. Her office was located next to a small, private flat she kept above Le Secret and overlooked Ginza, the most famous and exclusive district in Tokyo.

Eveline frowned as she studied the busy intersection outside, the first seed of unease stirring inside her.

“What’s this about, Malcolm? It’s rare for you to call me yourself.”

“I know. It would be best if we had this conversation face to face,” Brooks replied.

He’d refused to answer Eveline’s questions and gave her the details of their appointment before disconnecting. Though she’d been troubled by her enigmatic conversation with the lawyer, Eveline soon forgot about the exchange, the daily demands of running her internationally renowned and incredibly successful chain of upscale escort clubs consuming all her attention and focus. Business was booming, especially since she’d opened the latest branch of Le Secret in Singapore.

Eveline swallowed presently and leaned back in the sleek metal and leather chair of the conference room, her knuckles whitening where she gripped the arm rests. Maybe I should have thrown salt over my left shoulder before I left my apartment this morning. Or burned some incense or do whatever it is people do to ward off bad luck.

She studied the two lawyers with narrowed eyes. “Explain to me exactly how this happened.”

Brooks sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while Kline slid a file across the table.

“It seems Mr. Nagato forged the documents his lawyers provided to us five years ago, when he sold you the plot in Ginza as a freehold,” Brooks said bitterly. “What you actually bought off him was the right to lease. His son-in-law works for the local land registry office and we suspect he made the counterfeit papers. According to one of our contacts in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the Nagatos have connections with an organized crime syndicate that specializes in land rights grabs.”

Eveline tensed, her gaze skimming the folder before her distractedly. “You mean, they’re part of the Yakuza?”

Kline grimaced. “They are linked to them in a distant, convoluted fashion, yes.”

Eveline’s heart pounded as she digested the implication of the lawyers’ words. The Yakuza were the Japanese equivalent of the Italian Mafia. Having witnessed secondhand what the mob did to their business rivals in New York, Eveline had no desire to associate with the local criminal organizations here in Japan, even if she suspected several of the clients who had visited the Tokyo branch of Le Secret over the last five years had some kind of connection to them.

Eveline clenched her jaw. “What can we do about this? I paid Nagato a hefty sum of money for that land. We’re talking seven figures here, as you both well know.” She paused, an unwelcome thought bringing a bitter taste to her mouth. “Wait. Did he even own that plot? Don’t tell me the asshole sold me someone else’s—”

“He does,” Kline said. “Or he did.”

“We’ve already lodged an appeal in court to contest the new owner’s claim to the freehold,” Brooks said. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s going to take some time to—”

“New owner?” Eveline scowled. “What the hell do you mean, new owner?” She jumped to her feet and leaned her hands on the table. “Are you telling me that conniving bastard sold my land to someone else?!”

“Yes,” Brooks said quietly. “And this time, the documents he provided were the legitimate ones.”

Eveline took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes briefly, her nails biting into her palms where she’d fisted her fingers.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she hissed. Eveline grabbed her bag and stormed toward the conference room exit. “I’m gonna strangle that lowlife with my bare hands and dump his body in Tokyo Bay! What’s his address?”

“Sit down, Eveline,” Kline said with a sigh.

Eveline stopped by the door and whirled around. “I’m not kidding, Victor! I hope you guys know a good criminal lawyer ‘cause I’m going to need—”

“Nagato is dead,” Brooks said.

Eveline froze. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her eyes rounding as she gaped at the two lawyers.

What?!” she shrieked.

“Nagato died three weeks ago,” Kline stated. “It was a heart attack, apparently.”

A light-headed feeling swept over Eveline. She made her way back to the table on unsteady legs and flopped down in the chair she had just vacated.

“He completed the sale of the freehold a few days before his death,” Brooks added.

Kline leaned across the table and opened the file in front of Eveline. “This is the letter we received yesterday from the new owner’s law firm.”

Eveline blinked before focusing on the top sheet of the paperwork before her.

“The land in Ginza is now the property of Lincoln Hudson, the President and CEO of the Hudson Group,” Kline continued. “His lawyers have given us formal notice that Le Secret’s leasehold rights will be revoked in thirty days.”

Eveline’s hands trembled as she picked up the letter and read it over, the words blurring in front of her eyes. Her heart sank as she finally absorbed its content.

It was just as Kline had said.

The new owner of the plot on which Le Secret stood had given her thirty days to dissolve her business and vacate his land.

“Wouldn’t a leasehold be for fifty years?” Eveline mumbled. “Can he even do this?”

“The new leasehold law that came into effect twenty-five years ago gives the landowner the right to refuse the leaseholder permission to run a business on his property,” Kline said. “Hudson is completely within his rights to issue a revocation order.”

Blood thundered in Eveline’s ears, the sound matching the emotions storming through her as she stared blindly at the printed text. She put the letter down, inhaled shakily, and stared at the men opposite her.

When it rains, it fucking pours.

“How long will the court appeal take?” she said, her voice growing steely as cogwheels started turning in her brain. She had not come this far in life without learning how to roll with some punches. Eveline frowned. Or how to get back up and knock the enemy right out of the ring.

“Six weeks,” Brooks said.

Eveline drummed the fingers of her right hand on the table, her polished, red-lacquered nails rapping an impatient tempo.

“Can we do anything to expedite it?”

“We’ve got a meeting with one of the judges this afternoon,” Kline said. “As to whether he will be willing to bring the case forward is not something I’d want to bet money on.”

Eveline gritted her teeth. “Do the Hudson Group President and his lawyers know the details of this affair? As in Nagato swindling me out of—”

“They know,” Brooks said. “We spoke to Lincoln Hudson’s lawyers and his secretary yesterday after we received the letter. Hudson’s secretary got back to us thirty minutes ago.”

Eveline leaned forward in her chair, her heart pounding against her ribs. “And? Is he willing to negotiate something?”

“Hudson said that it ain’t his problem,” Kline muttered.

Eveline stilled. “What?”

Brooks rubbed his eyes tiredly. “According to his secretary, Lincoln Hudson’s exact words were ‘I don’t give a flying fuck’.”

 

Author Bio:

Ava Marie Salinger is the pen name of an Amazon bestselling author who has always wanted to write scorching hot contemporary and erotic romance. In 2018, she finally decided to venture to the steamy side. NIGHTS is the first of several sizzling series featuring sweet, sexy men and women with dark pasts and a whole lot of love to give to the ones brave enough to fight for their hearts. When she’s not dreaming up hotties to write about, you’ll find Ava creating kickass music playlists to write to, spying on the wildlife in her garden, drooling over gadgets, and eating Chinese.

Want to be the first to know about Ava’s new releases and get access to exclusive content, sneak previews, sales, and giveaways ? Then sign up to her Reader Group here and join her VIP Facebook Fan Group here.

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