#CoverReveal…Indiscretions of a Porn God…#BookBoost #Contemporary #NA #Romance #Giveaway #MustRead @XpressoTours @SunnivaD

Indiscretions of a Porn God
Sunniva Dee
(Porn Star Boyfriends #3)
Publication date: January 16, 2018
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

I’m not a saint. That’s not why I left the mafia.
I left because I’m god, because I need no one, and fail at nothing.

I’m Isaias Di Nascimbeni, owner of Lucid, the biggest adult entertainment studio in L.A. Son of Il Lince and second generation Italian in the U.S, I’m dirty rich and adored by highlife as well as lowlife.

Whatever I focus on turns to gold.
On the Richter’s scale of eye candy, I’m a twenty.
I’m a hunter who tests limits.
A warrior who goes shady when the law becomes dreary.

While conducting business at the St. Tatiana,
the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen enters my radar.
Isn’t it interesting that her name is Tatiana?
Isn’t it bizarre that she’s a nun?
Isn’t it wild that she’s unimpressed by me?

Isn’t it fucking insane that I can’t get her out of my head?

She doesn’t acknowledge me when I return to her church.
It’s unprecedented. Unheard of. Not happening.
But the hunt is my fetish.
Novice or not, she’s only postponing the inevitable.
Beautiful Tatiana asked for this.
By the time I’m done, she’ll worship me, because now
it’s game on.

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The condo is a three-story narrow affair with small rooms on all floors. On the top floor, I look into each bedroom and find the last room—the master bed—closed. I don’t knock before entering.

She’s splayed out on the bed, and the view is even sexier than I could have imagined. Despite her nun hang-up, despite the flawless business suit she wore all day, Tatiana isn’t an orderly girl; it seems she stepped right out of every item she was wearing, leaving them in a crumpled heap by the window. I picture her now, doing that with the drapes wide open like this. I stride over and close them.

At the center of the room, a modern simplistic canopy bed holds court. It’s fit for royalty, with tall mattresses on top of each other and wide enough for a foursome to pass out comfortably after a good fucking. My ice queen is breathtaking on it.

Thick duvets and a dozen pillows matched in my mother’s favorite colors, mustard yellow and rusty brown. Long sheets of silky hair fan out around Tatiana’s porcelain features. It’s like she was airborne before she flopped to her back. She appears even more ethereal than usual, so perfectly in need of the ultimate desecration. I’m just the monster for the job.

I shake my head slowly to myself; she’s damn near unreal. The smooth curves of an arm are naked, daintily spread out to a side, and she’s fully asleep, lashes fluttering inside her dream world. Hell, if she’s wearing anything at all, it’s hidden by sheets.

The beautiful Tatiana of the Valley must have misunderstood me. I bite my lip as I sit down on the edge of the bed, reaching a hand for her and stroking two rough fingers down her throat. She thought I was giving up the master bed to her. Of course I wasn’t.

I’m no gentleman.

The perfect arc of a thin, mahogany eyebrow lowers in sleepy confusion at my touch. Oh, she’s in for a surprise. I think I like this.

I lean toward the nightstand and switch the light on. Sluggishly, her eyes glide open. She can’t quite focus at first, but when she does, those crystal-grey stunners widen with surprise.

I grin. “If you’re to hang out with me, you need to sleep with an eye open. I run with wolves.”

“Bandits,” she counters. “You run with bandits.”

I shrug, pulling a thick strand of silk between my fingers and pulling downward. “Main thing, you can’t afford to sleep soundly, and with the door wide open at that.”

“It’d been a long twenty-four hours.”

“No matter. You forgot your drapes too. Good thing you have bodyguards.”

She huff-chuckles, squirming deliciously beneath her duvet. “Those two goons downstairs?”

“Yep, and me.”

“You are the wolf. I don’t see you as much defending me as eating me.”

Oh hell yeah. “Now we’re talking. On that note…” I steady myself on my arms, biceps hardening as I lower toward her and find her throat. I give her two chaste pecks before I let my tongue out to taste her. She shivers.

“What are you doing?” That voice is soft and inviting, not at all hesitant. Interesting. Small hands slide cautiously around my back. I feel them flutter over my shoulder blades and down to my waist. Fuck yeah.

“Kissing you.” I run my nose up her throat, meeting her jaw. Then I turn her face enough to lick her lower lip. It’s freaking succulent is what it is, so I drag it in between my lips and suckle on it.

“Isaias…” For one indecisive moment, she pulls away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I take her jaw between my thumb and index finger and make her mouth connect with mine again. Her reaction is a quiet whimper that shoots straight to my cock. Tatiana’s lips slide apart, giving access to my tongue. She tastes how she smells, like warm sugar, woman, and addiction in its purest form. Fuck, I’d do this forever.

Her chest is heaving under me by the time I draw away. I lower my forehead, touching hers with mine. I stare at her, breathing heavily as I work to control my impulses. I want to peel her free of everything in my way, rip her open, and stuff her with myself. I need it now, in this second, and I want to roar doing it.

“I beg to differ,” I manage to say instead, picking up the thread she’s already forgotten. “This is my room. But with you in it, it’s ours.”

I do it now, with less violence than my testosterone reserves dictate: I pluck the duvet off her, crumpling it at her side. She gasps but doesn’t object when I wiggle the sheet off her too, revealing so much smooth, silky, delicate flesh, I feel my throat roll in a swallow.

I sit frozen for a second, taking in the vision she is. All she’s wearing is a lingerie set that makes my mouth water. With her flawless, creamy skin, the light pink color of that transparent ensemble has me groaning. The entire bra is made of floral lace. The pattern heightens the allure of the puffy, rose-colored nipples I’m seeing for the first time.

“You’re exactly like I knew you would be,” I whisper, letting my first, full feel of her start at the top of her chest. I slide my hand downward, the sensation of her sigh shivering under me as I fill my palm with a breast.

My eyes stray down the soft outline of her ribs to the slight valley of her stomach. My ice queen’s navel becomes an upright oval as she arches her body for more of my touch.

“But this,” I murmur, sliding over the miniature ribbon decorating the top of her underwear. I run my pinkie down barely-there flowers covering the small dark triangle that tempts me below. “It’s my first time seeing nun panties, and I could never have imagined the perfection they could be.”

 

Author Bio:

Sunniva is a reader, a lover of everything beautifully written no matter the genre.

As an author, she pens flawed characters and seeks the flip side where the soul hides. Once there, Sunniva wants to be pulled out of her comfort zone by stories taking on a life of their own.

She has written paranormal and young adult. She’s done contemporary romance verging on erotica and dabbled in supernatural mystery. But Sunniva’s heart is rooted in new adult of the true kind: young adult all grown up, with conflicts and passions that are familiar to college-aged readers and us who remember those days like they happened last night.

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#CoverReveal…Abroad Book Two…#BookBoost #NA #Romance @XpressoTours @somemetaphor

Abroad Book Two
Liz Jacobs
Publication date: January 2, 2018
Genres: New Adult, Romance

The heartwarming and romantic conclusion to the duology celebrated by Teen Vogue as “a nuanced and sexy take on growing up and learning to accept who you are.”

Nick Melnikov has finally done it — he’s come out.

To himself. To his sister. And to Dex, who listens, hears him, and understands. To Dex, who kisses him and shows him all that they could be, if Nick could only find the courage. It’s one thing to let yourself be open thousands of miles away from your family, but exchange student Nick is uncomfortably aware that his time with Dex is running out. Who will he be when he goes home again?

Dex Cartwell is as happy with Nick as he’s ever been, but he can’t ignore the shadow of Nick’s inevitable departure from London, back to his life in Michigan. Is it worth it for Dex to expose his heart to another doomed relationship with a predetermined expiration date? What does Dex really want for the beginning of the next chapter in his life, post-graduation?

Dex wants to turn to his best friend in the struggle to find a way forward, but Izzy Jones has her own problems. She’s got one friend in love with her, and when she turns to another for help things get twice as complicated. Izzy never wanted complicated, but life just keeps getting in the way — and sweeping her off her feet.

Then Nick’s mom and sister come for a visit, and he is forced to decide between living his truth and protecting himself from fear and change. It’s going to take a lot of courage and a few leaps in the dark if Nick, Dex, and Izzy are to find a way to live and love on their own terms.

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Author Bio:

Liz Jacobs came over with her family from Russia at the age of 11, as a Jewish refugee. All in all, her life has gotten steadily better since that moment. They settled in an ultra-liberal haven in the middle of New York State, which sort of helped her with the whole “grappling with her sexuality” business.

She has spent a lot of her time flitting from passion project to passion project, but writing remains her constant. She has flown planes, drawn, made jewelry, had an improbable internet encounter before it was cool, and successfully wooed the love of her life in a military-style campaign. She has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize for her essay on her family’s experience with immigration.

She currently lives with her wife in Massachusetts, splitting her time between her day job, writing, and watching a veritable boatload of British murder mysteries.

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#Bookblitz…Golden Chains…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Giveaway @XpressoTours @Rose_B_Mashal

Golden Chains
Rose B. Mashal
(The Colorblind Trilogy, #3)
Publication date: November 11, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

“Royalty is a dirty game.” That’s what he’d once told her, but she couldn’t imagine how dirty it could really get.

Blessed now more than ever, Marie’s love for Mazen continues to grow, and with it, her worries and doubts, as well.

Just as they think that all of the past drama could be left behind, an enemy starts plotting revenge and ways to break them apart, forcing Marie into facing her worst fears.

With everything around her threatening her happiness, along with the well-being of the ones she loves the most, is there a limit to what Marie will do to protect them from certain danger? There might be none.

Because when it comes to love, pain can be bearable and chains become breakable.

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PROLOGUE:

The smell of death saturated the air, assaulting my nose and filling my lungs with its unwelcome stench. With it came the horrible feeling of sickness and the fear of the unknown.

The scenario of dead people surrounding me, and others struggling as they fought for their lives wasn’t new to me, I’d seen it before. The only difference this time was that I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. No, I was a horrified, fully grown woman.

For the past few days, I trusted that everything would be okay in the end. It was the only thing that kept me going. I refused to let go. I refused to allow anxiety to start stabbing at my heart or hold my brain in its disgusting claws.

But right now, I didn’t know how to be strong anymore. I didn’t know how to keep it together while feeling this agonizing pain in my body, or this unbearable ache in my chest. Being here was much more than I could tolerate.

Screaming my heart out seemed like a pretty good idea. Something in me believed that it would give me some sort of relief. But I couldn’t do that because I didn’t know if it would mean my rescue, or if it would only bring unwanted attention to me. The kind of attention that I didn’t want.

So, I held in my screams, but I couldn’t keep my tears from flowing. They simply escaped, just like the blood that was now seeping out of my body. I had no control over either of them.

I wasn’t mad at myself for crying, no. I was proud of the strength I’d shown since I was brought here. Mazen would be proud of me as well.

Mazen… My heart sank at the memory of the last time I’d seen him. My mind replayed the image of him, his head held high, and he stood tall, his features were colder than ice, and the look in his eyes was harder than stone.

I remembered the tears I’d shed as I watched him spitting orders and shouting commands. I remembered the struggle I felt to keep breathing as I heard him making threats and promising the unthinkable.

I also remembered calling to him, and him never answering me.

I remembered exactly when my heart broke. And I recalled promising myself that I’d never show weakness ever again.

But realizing what was happening now – I knew this was probably the end. There was no point in not showing weakness, no point in being strong; nor there was a point in keeping it together.

I screamed.

At the top of my lungs.

My scream declared all of what I was feeling during the past days – the hurt, the pain, the fear, the worry, the shame, and the broken heart.

All it earned me was a split second of relief. I knew very well that it could be heard beyond those doors. I knew it could be the cry of the prey, which made it easier for attackers to locate it.

It couldn’t be undone, and I didn’t have it in me to regret it. I was ready to meet my fate.

 

Author Bio:

Rose is a loved mother, wife, and a stay at home lawyer. Writing is her passion, and reading is her obsession. Music is her best friend and sarcasm is her speaking trend. One of her joys is bringing happiness to others and her biggest wish is that they stay true to one another. Through her stories, she wants to spread nothing except understanding, peace and love.

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#BookRelease #Tour…A Matter of War…#BookBoost #NA #Contemporary #Romance @SDSXXTours

 A MATTER OF WAR
by A.L. Simpson
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance

Jack was on the last few days of his tour of Iraq when his truck was blown sky high by a missile. He and his two marine buddies survived, barely. Clinging to life Jack and his buddies are flown home to the US.
 
Bree is a nurse who accepts a position at the Military hospital where Jack is a patient. Before he even opens his eyes, she realizes they have a special connection.
 
Greg is an owner of real estate and passionately disagrees with the US Involvement in Iraq.
 
Liz is a talented musician who hides a dark secret. She is riddled with doubts and fears about her feelings for Greg.
 
Can Bree help Jack adjust, come to terms with his nightmares or will he succumb to the darkness?
 
After suffering the horrors of war, Jack knew – coming home was never going to be easy.
 
Can these four very different people sort out their differences and find happiness?



Washington DC
February 2011
 
Bree sat on a bench in the park and opened the paper to the Seeking Accommodation section. She was getting desperate. She had been in the hotel for more than a week and it was rapidly depleting her savings. The rents were expensive in the area near the hospital and she had no way of paying for an apartment on her own. She circled an ad in the paper. This one sounded perfect but she cautioned herself not to get too excited. A girl who had just graduated Uni, probably around the same age as her, needed someone willing to share an apartment. As luck would have it, the area was close to the hospital where she’d secured a job. Bree took her cell from her purse and with trembling fingers, tapped in the number she had circled.
 
“Hello?” The voice on the other end sounded shy, almost uncertain.
 
“Hi, my name is Breeanna Patterson, everyone calls me Bree,” she said, trying to get down to business quickly. “You posted an ad for a roommate?”
 
“Yes,” the girl replied. “Oh, I’m Liz Strickland by the way.”
 
“Can you tell me why you need to share?”
 
“Well,” Liz said, sounding more confident as the conversation progressed. In the background, Bree could hear Katy Perry. “I recently graduated from music school was lucky enough to get a position playing my viola in the National symphony.”
 
“Wow, you must really be good. That’s impressive for a recent graduate. Do you earn enough to live on?”
 
“Almost,” Liz sounded sheepish. “I tutor a few private students as well. But, housing here is so expensive…”
 
“Tell me about it,” Bree replied. “Makes perfect sense that you need someone to share.” Hopefully it would be her.
 
“What about you?”

I have always loved to write and have a vivid and overactive imagination.

In my spare time, when I’m not writing, I love to walk, read and shop.
 
I believe no mountain is too hard to climb, no river is too wide to span and no journey is too difficult to complete. I follow my dreams and I urge and encourage others to do the same.
 
With a positive attitude, the impossible can become possible.
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#Bookblitz…This Piece of Our Being…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Sports #Giveaway @XpressoTours @RobynMRyan

This Piece of Our Being
Robyn M. Ryan
(Clearing the Ice, #3)
Publication date: December 5, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports

She no longer believes that love conquers all.

He questions his convictions.

Alone, each faces an uncertain future.

Fate has other ideas.

Just as Fate placed their lives on a collision course five years ago, Andrew and Caryn Chadwick’s paths cross once again in Toronto after a four-month separation. Despite Andrew’s assurances that he wants to repair their marriage, Caryn is wary, not certain she can trust him, and struggles with doubts and questions about his relationship with a member of his Rehab Team. Wracked with guilt, Andrew questions his determination to return to the Tampa Suns hockey team, and he seeks to convince Caryn their marriage will survive.

Fate intervenes with a gift at the worst possible moment.

Caryn can hide this secret for only a short time, but is Andrew capable of pushing his needs aside when he discovers the truth? Can she risk her heart and soul once again? This Piece of Our Being follows Andrew’s and Caryn’s journeys through a fragile reconciliation. Both vow to place honesty at the center of their future. But, will the secrets revealed heal their marriage or drive them further apart?

The conclusion to the Clearing the Ice trilogy, This Piece of Our Being delivers Andrew and Caryn’s Happily Ever After, but the path to reconciliation is rocky and missteps prove costly.

**Please note: For your best enjoyment please be sure to read THIS OF MY HEART and THIS PIECE OF MY SOUL before this book. Check your favorite ebook site for special offers on the first two books in the series during THIS PIECE OF OUR BEING’s preorder period.**

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PRE-ORDER SPECIAL—Just .99 through December 5 release
SPECIAL—Buy the first book in the series, This Piece of My Heart, for just .99 (Save $2.00)

PRELUDE:

On her last day in Toronto, Caryn wandered around the university campus. She had always loved summer on campus and happy memories crowded her mind. She stopped for a strawberry cream frappuccino at the coffee shop where her study group had met two-to-three evenings a week every school year. She smiled as she looked at “their table” where some summer students sat, textbooks open, chatting and taking notes on their devices. The tradition continues.

Caryn walked to the large grassy area, her favorite section of the campus. The sun felt delicious on her face, and she looked for a spot to sit. She leaned her head back and allowed a smile to spread across her face. I’m having a baby! Just for this moment, this very second, I’m happy. No worries about the future. No what-ifs. No second-guessing. I’m having a baby, and I am ecstatic!

She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top. In that moment, she could imagine celebrating the moment with Drew. She closed her eyes and imagined him laughing as he lifted her off her feet and swung her around in a circle, his blue eyes never leaving hers. A special romantic dinner poolside, stars shining above the lanai. Holding hands as they ate, planning the future, picking the bedroom they’d convert into the nursery, speculating whether the crib would hold their son or daughter. And choosing names! So many to consider. So many dreams. If only…

Caryn brushed both hands across her face when she felt the tears. Of course, that’s not my reality. Not now. And maybe never. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. You’re strong. No matter what happens, everything will work out. This beautiful child will know love from both parents…even if we live separately.

She sensed a presence beside her and began to scoot to her feet to stand and walk away, but then she suddenly knew. “Why are you here? How did you know?”
Drew’s voice was soft. “I didn’t. I just flew up with Tom. Dan told me to take some time to recharge. Spend some time with my parents. Tom dropped me at the townhouse just now. When I walked inside, I realized you were here.” She felt him drop to the grass beside her. “I had a hunch I might find you somewhere on campus.”

From the corner of her eye, she could tell he was about to reach for her hand.

“Don’t,” she begged softly. “Please.”

“Can we talk?”

“I can’t look at you right now.”
He was silent for a moment. “Okay, how about this.” He shifted until they were back-to-back. “Better?”

Caryn nodded without speaking and pulled her knees back up against her chest. She waited for Andrew to speak and heard him sigh.

“Are you going to Tampa when you leave here?” His voice was soft.

“Probably.”

“Do you think we could sit down and talk?”

“You mean, like last time?” Caryn’s temper flared. “I’m not doing that again, Andrew.”

“I don’t want that either.” Andrew was quiet for a long moment. “I’m hoping we can work things out. I understand if you don’t want to see or talk with me right now. But, can we figure this—us—out sometime when we’re in the same city?”

“Do you believe I had nothing to do with my father calling you?” Caryn challenged.

“None of that matters, Caryn. Whether or not I ever play hockey again—it means nothing if there’s no us. It’s taken me too long to figure that out. I want to ask—make that beg—for the chance to talk with you. I’ve called Lauren, spoken with Kelly and Terri. No one could—or would—tell me where you were.”

“Only Lauren knows.”

“I get that I’m not her favorite person at the moment.”

Caryn bit back a short laugh. “You didn’t answer my question, Andrew. Do you believe I told you the truth about my father? Or am I still guilty by default?”

“Could I answer that face-to-face? I want to look you in the eyes.” He paused a moment. “Is that possible?”

Caryn sighed as she relaxed a bit, leaning back against him. “I can’t do this here. Not in this place, this spot.”

“Then, could you come with me to the townhouse? We can talk there. Please, Cary?”

Caryn leaned her head back, resting it against his neck. She felt that if she looked at him, she’d break, shatter into a million pieces. And if that happened, she wasn’t sure she could put herself back together. “Andrew, do you honestly want to work things out?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Is it even possible?”

“Cary, we can find a way to work things out. Trust me.”

She shut her eyes against the hot tears that threatened and then pressed her face against her hands. “Somehow ‘trust me’ is not especially reassuring, Drew.”

“Walk with me? Just to the townhouse?”

Caryn nodded, but still did not look at him. Andrew held out his hand as he stood, and after a beat, Caryn stretched her hand toward his. He gently pulled her to her feet and then grasped her hand securely when she started to pull away. Caryn took a deep breath as she walked beside him, looking straight ahead as they navigated the campus.

Caryn concentrated on slow, steady, deep breaths, calming her nerves, trying to process Andrew’s sudden appearance after so many weeks. In Toronto, of all places, her refuge. She could not think beyond the next step, the next moment.

They entered the townhouse silently, and Caryn’s gaze immediately focused on Andrew’s luggage just inside the doorway.

“I’ll take that over to my parents,” Andrew said. “Like I said, I didn’t know you were here until I walked in.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a flight this evening.” Caryn headed for the stairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As she passed the night table in the loft bedroom, she grabbed a bottle of water and her saltines before stepping into the bathroom. After she shut the door, she nibbled on a cracker and took a drink of water, then looked at herself in the mirror. Besides the reddened eyes that were slightly swollen, she appeared normal. Caryn splashed cold water on her face and took a deep breath.

She dropped the pack of saltines into her carry-on and zipped it shut. Everything was packed and ready to go. She’d planned to strip the bed, but decided to leave it alone. She took a moment to straighten the sheets and tuck the comforter under the pillows. Drew can change it if he decides to stay. If not, I’ll be back soon. She looked around a final time, then after taking a deep breath, picked up her carry-on and walked reluctantly down the stairs.

#

Andrew waited in the kitchen, staring out the window at the courtyard. Any other year, we’d be here right now, home for the summer. Wonder if that’s why Caryn’s here? Am I running her off by showing up today? Something else I fucked up? He heard her footsteps on the stairs and returned to the living room in time to see her set her carry-on bag near the door.

“You’re not leaving because of me, Cary?”

She shook her head. “I made the reservations last week. I completed my meetings and I’m good to go.” She turned to face him then, and Andrew saw the wariness in her amber eyes. Those eyes that enchanted him with their sparkle now looked dull. Depression? Exhaustion? A breath caught in his chest when he realized her eyes held no hope.

Caryn walked to the side chair and sat down, and Andrew perched on the edge of the sofa closest to her. He reached for her hand, his eyes asking permission, and Caryn nodded. He closed his hand around hers, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. She met his gaze expectantly.

“I love you, Cary. My feelings have never changed.”

“Why say that now? Suddenly, you believe I did not ask anyone to call my father?” Her eyes pierced his, not blinking.

He leaned toward her. “I think I’ve always known…deep inside…that you’d never make that call. I was too self-absorbed to admit it.”

Caryn waved her free hand between them. “So all this, between us, was…?”

“Entirely my fault—as Tom not so subtly pointed out to me.”

“What did Tom say?”

“‘Fool,’ ‘jerk,’ and ‘stupid’ were among the operative words. Plus ‘selfish,’ ‘inconsiderate,’ and ‘idiot.’ That’s about the gist of it, minus the rather blunt adjectives he used with each of those words.”

Caryn tried to suppress a giggle. “Wish I could have heard it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to give you an instant replay.” Andrew smiled when he saw a hint of sparkle return to her eyes. “All that aside, I was wrong in more ways that I can count. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for the chance to make things right between us.”

Caryn’s eyes filled with sudden tears, and she pulled back as he reached to touch her cheek. She shook her head again when he started to speak and impatiently brushed aside the tears that had escaped. “Andrew, how do we…?”

He answered before she could finish the question. “Cary, all I know right now is that I love you and I want to be with you. If you’ll give me the chance, we will work everything out.”

#

Caryn shut her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath to calm her emotions, determined not to think beyond the present moment as her brain struggled to process Andrew’s words. I want to believe that things can be different this time, that what he says is possible. But what if…What if we can’t work things out?

He didn’t believe her last April, and his betrayal, his lack of trust, still stung. Her stomach contracted suddenly and the nausea rose in her throat. She stood abruptly, shaking her head at the question on his lips.

She barely made it to the bathroom, the nausea getting the best of her as it had so often over the weeks. She leaned weakly against the door as she stood, closing her eyes until the dizziness passed. She splashed more cold water on her face and filled a cup with water to rinse her mouth. She opened the door, Andrew nearby, concern evident on his face.

“You all right?”

Caryn nodded, but didn’t speak as he led her to the kitchen table. Andrew pulled a chair back for her to sit, then opened the refrigerator and grabbed the Coke he hoped to find. He pulled a chair facing hers, opened the bottle, and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she took a sip. When she looked at him, the apprehension was obvious in his eyes.

“Have you been sick?”

“No, I’m just overwhelmed. About everything.” She set the bottle on the table, taking another deep breath. “There’s so much we need to discuss.”

“Stay for a few days longer, Caryn. I’ll stay at my parents…we’ll have time to be alone and talk, right here in Toronto—our true home. What better place to begin to work things out?”

#

Andrew waited for Caryn to respond. When she finally met his eyes, he read the longing, the confusion, the anxiety, and the indecision in the eyes he knew so well. The last thing he wanted to do was to add to the obvious stress she was feeling. He tentatively reached out to brush his fingers against her forehead. “Do you have to get back to Tampa?” He gave her an out.

“I’ve put so much work off on Lauren.” Caryn’s voice was hesitant.

“I can fly back to Tampa with you.”

She shook her head. “No, you can’t.” Her voice was firm. “You need to spend time with your parents…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “I really do have work I need to complete for new clients.”

“Could you possibly handle the work from here?” Andrew was careful not to push.

Caryn looked at her hands. “I need time to process this. I wasn’t expecting to see you, hear you say you believe me.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“Drew, I believed in us. I never dreamed you’d give up on our love so easily. I trusted you.” She blinked back the hot tears that threatened. “I convinced myself that happiness is overrated.” She met his gaze evenly.

Andrew closed his eyes briefly as he shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. “I have no right to ask you to trust me. I realize that.” He gently brushed aside the single tear that escaped her eyes.

“You said you needed to concentrate everything on your recovery. What changed?”

“I’ve realized it doesn’t have to be a choice between one or the other. There’s room for both. I needed to get my priorities straight.”

“I pray every day that you will recover one hundred percent. I want you back on the ice, playing with the Suns, just as strong as you were before.”

“Maybe that doesn’t matter so much anymore.”

Caryn held up her hand. “Don’t! Do not say that. Do not tell me it doesn’t matter, that it’s been for nothing.” Her voice shook with anger. “If you don’t keep working for your recovery…” She shook her head. “That would be the worst thing of all.” She pushed back her chair to stand, but Andrew stood and grasped her arms before she could walk away.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Play hockey again.”

“I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, Caryn. There’s no guarantee.”

“I want what we had before you were hurt.” She reached to touch his lips to silence his protest. “I want us to be us again. And that includes your playing hockey, hopefully a long time with the Suns.”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll ever play again.” She met his eyes and he continued quietly. “I still don’t pass that ImPACT baseline.” He shrugged. “I could think I’m ready to play, but if I don’t pass that test…”

“You will. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

Andrew’s smile was wry. “Now you sound like my brother.” He gently brushed the hair away from her forehead. “So, in the meantime…where do we go from here? What do you want me to do? What do you want to do?” Caryn hesitated, and he continued, “Look, I know I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can expect you to trust me. And I know I don’t deserve to ask…”

She silenced him by putting her hand against his cheek. “Andrew, I can’t do this again if things don’t work out.”

“What could stop us from working through this?”

“I might not be able to watch you play,” Caryn said quietly. “I still get flashbacks of that night. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to watch you play again.”

“Cary, that will never be a problem,” he said. He didn’t remember much from the accident that almost killed him, but she’d watched it all: his helmet flying off, the puck striking his head at full force, him lying motionless on the ice, the hours waiting to see if he’d survive surgery, the days spent wondering if he’d ever wake up. “I promise I will understand.”

Caryn was silent for several minutes, then reached for her Coke and took another sip. “I’ve never doubted you’ll play hockey again.”

Andrew laughed without humor. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve asked myself what I would do if I couldn’t play hockey again. I know I was wrong to push you aside.”

“Why didn’t you call me or tell me?” Caryn’s eyes held his steadily. “I believed what you’d said—that our marriage couldn’t continue until you totally recovered.”

“I convinced myself I didn’t want to risk hurting you any more than I had.” Andrew’s eyes left hers for a moment as he searched for the right words. “I knew I was wrong when I asked you to stay away…and then, I just watched you walk away.” Andrew shook his head. “I hope someday you can forgive me.”

“I already have.” Caryn reached to place her palm against his cheek. “There are a lot of things we need to talk about, but not today. You need to spend time with your parents. I need to get back to Tampa and take care of my clients. Think. Process everything you’ve said today.”

“I’ll be back in Tampa next week. Do you think we can start then?”

Andrew’s hand covered hers as she looked at him, searching his face. She saw the pain of regret mixed with a cautious optimism. She prayed she’d find the answer she sought in the intensity of his blue eyes—the same eyes that had captured her heart and had promised her a piece of his soul. A sensation rippled through her chest…a flutter of hope? Am I willing to open my heart? Risk believing in our future again? She smiled softly as she slipped her hand behind his neck and urged his lips towards her. In the kiss, tender at first and then quickly deepening, she found the answers.

There’s truly only one response, one leap of faith to chance. She pulled back and met his gaze before she stepped into the welcoming arms that closed securely around her. She nodded against his chest, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes, I’d like that, Drew…more than anything.”

Author Bio:

By the time she was an eight-year-old tomboy growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, Robyn M. Ryan definitely knew what she wanted to do when she grew up—play major league baseball or write. She wrote throughout elementary and high school, first composing novels featuring favorite TV and music personalities, and then venturing into sports writing.

Attending UGA’s journalism school launched her career in public relations, which included an internship with the Atlanta Flames NHL hockey team. This Piece of My Heart, a hockey romance, and the first book in Robyn’s hockey trilogy Clearing the Ice was published May 2016. The second book in the series, This Piece of My Soul, was published January, 2017, and the final book, This Piece of Our Soul concludes the trilogy with a December, 2017 release.

Besides writing, Robyn’s passions include following the New York Rangers, NASCAR, and the Atlanta Braves; splitting time between homes in Atlanta and Palm Coast, and visiting Paris as often as possible. Two brilliant Westies rule both homes.

As do many writers, Robyn chooses to write using a pseudonym—hers is a combination of her sons’ names, a contribution from her youngest nephew.

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#Bookblitz…Butterfly…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Giveaway #Mustread #OnTour @cambriahebert @cambriahebert

Butterfly
Cambria Hebert
Publication date: November 3, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Drunken brawls. One-night stands.

No-show interviews. Toilet-papering my hoity-toity neighbor’s house.

Insulting my fans. Trashing hotel rooms.

What’s it take to become public enemy number one?

I just told you.

I’ve done all that and more.

My poor conduct got me on the Celebs Behaving Badly list and ultimately ruined my career. From the world’s number-one popstar to world’s most hated.

That’s me. Ten Stark. Go underground, they said. Stay out of the spotlight. Most importantly, stay out of trouble.

Everyone loves a good comeback story. For once, I listened. I met someone who didn’t know my name, my face, or the bad behavior that defined me. She taught me I wasn’t who everyone thought I was—everyone including me. 

Then someone whispered my name and things got messy, as they always do. Now I want her back.  I’m not a caterpillar, but a butterfly. 

My wings are in full color, not just black and white. But first, I have to shed my cocoon and fly.

Goodreads / Amazon

Five countries. Thirteen cities. Four weeks.

A show in each city, interviews, press… people. Masses of people.

This was my life. A never-ending cycle of shows and appearances and, as of late, an ever-growing list of bad behavior.

I lifted the silver flask up to my lips, then screwed my face into a snarl when my lips and tongue stayed dry. “Why is this empty?” I said to everyone and anyone.

“Because you drank it all?” someone to my left offered.

I gave them a withering look. “You don’t get paid for sarcasm. Fill it.” Thrusting the flask toward the minion, I dismissed him and gazed out the window. My knee bounced rapidly. The nervous energy coiling in my system was never satiated. Not even when my veins had more alcohol in them than blood.

Seconds later, the flask appeared under my nose, and I swiped it up and tipped it back. The familiar burn of vodka slid down my throat. After two long draws, I pulled it back, tucking it into my chest to sigh.

“Where are we again?” I asked as the limo slid to a stop. Even through the heavily tinted windows, the flashbulbs from all the press and fans were blinding. I slid the Versace sunglasses down off my head, over my eyes.

“It’s nighttime,” the person sitting beside me intoned.

I glanced over, not bothering to remove the glasses. “Do you value your job?”

People were banging on the windows, trying to peer in. Their hot breath left clouds on the outside of the glass, and security shouted at everyone to get back.

My assistant shrank. “Well, yes.”

“Then shut up.” I turned away, back to the window and the chaos that reigned beyond it. I took another long swig of the top-shelf vodka.
“We’re in Amsterdam,” my manager said from across the limo.

Beside her, my bodyguard pressed a finger to the black piece in his ear. “All clear,” he told me.

As the door opened, I stuffed the flask into my tailored, leather designer jacket. It wasn’t available to the public yet, not for anyone who wasn’t me.

Screams and shrill cries cut through the night, drowning out all my own thoughts, making me feel numb.

The second my foot stretched out of the ride, the noise level went up about twenty notches. Unfolding from the backseat, I felt the familiar weight of the flask in my pocket.

The second the car door slammed behind me, I threw up my arms and grinned. “What’s up, Amsterdam?”

Everyone went crazy. Women were crying, even some dudes. A plethora of hands and arms reached out over the guardrails, straining to touch me, as everyone screamed my name.

I gave a couple high-fives as flashbulbs burst around me, making my eyes strain.

“C’mon,” my bodyguard said, ushering me toward the entrance.

As we went, I would pause for a couple photos and stop to sign a few posters featuring my face.

“Please, Ten!” Girls were begging, trying to get my attention.

Just before the entrance to the venue, I stopped and went to the rail again, posing to take a selfie with a few fans.

“Oh my God, I love you!” someone screamed.

“You and everybody else,” I muttered.

I moved toward the door, but a dark shape darted out in front of us. I blinked.

A man with a camera and a bag of white shit clutched in his hands jumped in front of us. “You suck!” he spat and lifted the bag, no doubt to bomb me with whatever that shit was.

“Whoa!” My bodyguards pushed me out of the way as the powder disbursed all over the ground instead of all over me, as was intended.

The asshole lunged to the side, managing to get out of the clutches of my guard. He sprang toward me. I didn’t think. I just reacted and threw out my fist, nailing him right in the face.

He went down, falling right in the center of the mess he created. His body writhed as he screamed and yelled. “My nose!” he wailed. “You broke my nose.”

Men ushered me away, stepping in front of the spectacle, and whisked me into the building.

“I’m going to sue you!” the man roared. “I’ll see you in court!”

That was the last thing I heard before the doors cut off the circus.

***

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

I turned around, the flask clutched in my hand, to face the door my manager was filling.

“That asshole had it coming.”

“Probably.” She amended, no give in her voice. “But it doesn’t matter. You know this is going to be yet another PR nightmare. One you can’t afford.”

I drained the contents of the flask and then dropped it on the table beside me. My assistant was nearby, and I motioned for him to fill it up again.

“You’ve had enough.”

“You’re my manager, not my mother.”

“Seems to me you could use some mothering,” she snapped. “You have a show to perform.”

I spread out my arms. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You can’t perform if you can’t stand up.”

A stage tech stuck their head in my dressing room. “We need you backstage.”

I moved across the room, swiping the flask out of the minion’s hand to take a lengthy, healthy swig before thrusting it back. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I belched.

“Let’s do this.”

On my way out the door, my manager, Becca, grabbed my wrist. “You know the deal.”

“I know. Say nothing. Even when the fans act like entitled little assholes.”

“Don’t mention what happened outside either.”

I laughed.

“You smell like a fucking brewery,” she said, disgusted.

Snatching my arm back, I strode out and went down the long hallway toward the stage. People parted as I walked, making room for me.

The wail of the crowd could be heard even back here. The act who warmed them up must have done their job. I couldn’t even remember who it was.

I didn’t care.

“Suit up!” someone yelled, and I was gestured toward the back. A few minutes later, I was strapped into some kind of harness with cables, and the crowd began to chant my name.

Anger rose up inside me. Anger at everything and everyone. Energy from the crowd, the music, everything in this entire building pressed in, fighting for room inside my body, pushing out who I was as a person, and dominating.

I was just a guest here. A guest in my own skin.

The air was thick with heat, even the A/C pouring through the large vents was no match for the way it suffocated everything around me. The crush of bodies, the lights, equipment—all created a barrier. The heat would only grow more intense as the show went on.

“You good?” one of the stagehands asked beside me.

I nodded.

“Just like rehearsals.” He reminded me.

I nodded again. I’d done this so much sometimes I dreamed about flying. Some nights it was a nightmare, falling into a dark, bottomless abyss. Just me falling, rapidly plummeting farther into nothing.

Other nights, it wasn’t so scary. It was a tease. I started out here, backstage, hooked up and ready to fly high. Only when my feet finally left the stage, everyone and everything fell away. I flew off, suddenly unbound by a harness and able to go anywhere I pleased. Away from here. Away from it all.

Free.

Music started up. Lights dimmed. People went wild. Adrenaline flooded my veins, and my stomach tilted a little. I blinked back the woozy feeling and shook my head slightly. When I opened my eyes, the world wasn’t tilted like my stomach and my feet were hovering over ground.

My voice filled the arena as it did every concert night. The fans couldn’t see me yet, but my words were everywhere.

“Perfection can be found between the rhythm and the beat.”

The familiar whooshing sound of fog machines pumping out mist filled the stage, and I stared down, watching it fill the space like fog on the set of a horror movie.

I kept going higher and higher above the thousands of people in attendance. Some had glow-sticks, waiving them around. Others had lighters. Some people just screamed.

The crush of bodies made me instantly tired. The anger I felt warred with the exhaustion. All these people claimed to love me… but I knew better.

Maybe some did, sure. But most? They were here to watch me fail. Hoping to see some bad behavior. Hoping I’d give them yet another reason to hate me.

I’d be front page news tomorrow, regardless of how well this concert went tonight. Regardless of how successful this entire tour had been.

I’d be the lead headline because I decked a “fan.” Never mind he was trying to fucking flour-bomb me, then attack me when that was thwarted.

Fuckers.

All of them.

Up here above it all, I got some sudden clarity. Like I was finally blissfully alone in a crowded arena.

The familiar beat of a song written just for me obliterated all other sounds. Below me, the crowd roared and bounced around, looking like a giant mosh pit.

A spotlight clicked on, illuminating me.

I went through the motions, the carefully choreographed movements.

“Who’s ready for the best night of your life?” I asked the crowd, and the harness swung me down closer.

Everyone seemed ready.

Everyone but me.

Maybe it was the vodka.

Maybe I was bat-shit crazy.

Maybe I just didn’t fucking care anymore.

Or…

Maybe it was the catalyst that saved my life.

Right there as I soared overhead all the adoring fans, something snapped inside me.

Since I was basically tied up, flying high, my options for getting away, for getting the hell out of there, were limited.

I did the first thing that popped into my mind.

Nimbly, my fingers reached for the zipper on my jeans. As the crew swung me toward the stage, I opened up. I released all the vodka that had been filling up my bladder and making me uncomfortable as hell.

I let it rain.

People started shrieking.

I heard my manager screaming in my earpiece. I ripped it out and threw it into the crowd.

“He’s pissing all over us!” someone shouted.

Complete chaos reigned.

I finished up and gave it a little shake. My feet hit the stage. The cords holding me snapped free. My band, everyone on stage with me, was gaping in shock.

I tucked myself back into my jeans, feeling much lighter than before. Everyone was still losing their minds. I held up my hands, and the place went silent.

Tomb silent.

I could have heard a freaking pin drop. Instead, I actually heard my own thoughts.

What the fuck are you doing? You just pissed on your fans. Literal piss.

Everyone waited for me to say something. Apologize. Claim I was sick.

Rotating my hands so my palms faced the crowd, I gave them the finger.

With both hands.

Now you know. The culmination of events.

How I became Public Enemy Number One.

Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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#BookTour #Promo…Beautifully Chaotic…#BookBoost #NA #Contemporary #Romance @HEAPRMore @AuthorNatBarnes

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BEAUTIFULLY CHAOTIC by Natalie Barnes is available for PRE-ORDER for 99c!

AMAZON US | AMAZON INT.

This New Adult Contemporary Romance is releasing Nov. 15th!

BookCover6x9 Beautifully choatic KINDLE

When he was there, My soul finally breathed its air. My steps became lighter, My heart beat faster. Having my spirit dance, Along the broken edges That would be soon, Deemed our last chance…Begging to hold, He must have thought I was A part of that mold. Only breaking free, Now caused this suffering…

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MEET THE AUTHOR:

Natalie Barnes was born in Sault Ste Marie, Michigan on a rainy, September Thursday. She grew up on the Bay Mills Indian Reservation in Michigan’s eastern upper peninsula.

Married with children, she started writing as a way to have downtime for herself. Never planning on publishing until her first piece was finished. That’s when it all changed.

Not even four months after publishing, “Everything I Want,” she left her full time job as Accounts Payable and took the dive into continuing her desire for storytelling.

When she isn’t losing it with her characters, she’s jamming out or combing the backroads of the Upper Peninsula countryside. Blueberry picking to two-tracking and gathering; anything that has to do with the outdoors, she’s into.

Natalie also has an eye for indie films. Connecting with a screenwriter a couple years ago, there’s now a screenplay based on her first novel out there. She’ll continue to see where that goes and in the meantime, plans on having screenplays written for all her tales.

Always creating, always telling a tale one way or another.

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#PreOrder #Tour…Curveball Baby…#BookBoost #Contemporary #NA #Romance #Giveaway #OnTour @MoBPromos @JMMaurer1

 CURVEBALL BABY
by J.M. Maurer
Genre: A Contemporary New Adult Romance (with Baseball, Baby & Christmas themes)

Most of Addison’s days start the same. She walks to work, brushes off the townsfolks’ disapproval, and fixes any-and-all local catastrophes. But there’s not a single resident in Willow Run who doesn’t know that’s all about to change.
 

For MLB pitching phenom Ben Peterson, returning to Willow Run is like stepping into another world. Back in town, he’s poised to do more than merely get his head on straight. For the last six months, his thoughts have been centered around one thing—the beautiful small-town girl who taught him there’s more to life than hurling a baseball. 




BEN
 
Returning to Willow Run is like stepping into another world.

 
I turn the key and slip into the foyer of the vacation home owned by my general manager, Mike Messmer. The heavy wooden door closes behind me, the noise a reminder that I’m here to shut the door on my old life and enter a new one. Mike thinks I’m back to once again pull myself together, to find my head. But that’s far from why I’ve returned. There’s one simple explanation.
 
A woman. An innocent. Not at all the kind of woman who’d have anything to do with a professional baseball player like me.
 
But like a foul ball hitting an unsuspecting fan in the stands, she bounced off my chest, mouthed a mesmerizing “I’m sorry,” and shot me with a blue-eyed gaze that made my heart skip a beat and my brain forget why I’d been sent to Willow Run in the first place. The smell of beer-battered fish and the long line I was standing in reentered my mind but only after she finished lifting her full pink lips and tossed me a genuine smile that kick-started my senses.
 
“Fish out of water.” Her perky tone lifted toward me through a grin. “Didn’t mean to flop into you. Every spring fish fest is packed like this, yet every year I manage to lose my best friend. I should put her on a leash.”
 
I immediately wanted to be that best friend of hers, not just for the day, but also for the entire week I’d be staying in Willow Run. Heck, she could put me on a leash. I’d happily kneel at her feet, look up at all that radiant beauty, and flash my puppy-dog eyes at her.
 
She lifted a hand in greeting. “I’m Addison. I see you’ve found the right line for the best fish fry in Southern Indiana.”
 

I held her warm hand in mine. Couldn’t let go.

J.M. started working as a registered nurse in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit where she cared for critically ill children, transported them from outlying hospitals, and even picked up overtime hours treating patients of all ages while inside a hyperbaric chamber. Holding a Bachelor’s degree in nursing, she loves to write about strong characters and their struggles in life. Her books explore themes of revenge, redemption, and hope along with the intrigue of true love, sex, and marriage.
 
An incurable romantic with a penchant for dark chocolate and red wine, no matter what trials or tortures her characters face, love will always prevail . . . because, after all, what’s better than a happily-ever-after?
 
When not writing, you can find her spending time with family and friends, exploring the outdoors, or attempting most any sport. She resides in Chicago with her husband and son.
Amazon ✯ Website ✯ Facebook ✯ Goodreads ✯ Twitter
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#Bookblitz…Innocence for Sale…#BookBoost #AuthorUproar #NA #Romance #Suspense #Giveaway #OnTour @XpressoTours

InnocenceForSale.com/Jane
Ada Scott
(InnocenceForSale.com #3)
Publication date: October 13, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

If Looks Could Kill… He’d Have Killed Even More People…

Jane

Would I sell my innocence to save my grandfather’s life? In a heartbeat.

My dreams of immersing myself in the world of art will have to be put on hold while I do whatever it takes to raise the money he needs for the operation.

When I turned up at the hotel to give my winning bidder what he paid for, I never expected that it would be the one man who’s been dominating my fantasies lately. I never expected what would happen next either…

Caleb

It’s not about love. She’s auctioning her innocence, but I want her for her other talents.

Maybe I should never have dragged her into my world, the underbelly of Las Vegas. Without a doubt, I shouldn’t have fallen for this girl, but I defy any man to not melt under her smoldering beauty. I had to make her scream my name, over and over again.

Goodreads / Amazon

“Innocence for Sale…?” I mutter under my breath as I browse through the site. I narrow my eyes. Looking into it further, it turns out to be some high-dollar service to buy a girl’s virginity. Damn. You really can put a price on anything.

There seem to be a couple live auctions running at the moment, one of them for a girl named Jane that catches my eye even with a blurred photo. I click through to her bio page.

I sit back in my chair and cross my arms, staring at the blurred picture. She looks happy enough. She’s not exactly an escort, either, so she might be even less conspicuous to bring along than the real thing.

To my surprise, I see in her little bio paragraph that she’s an art student, an artist in her own right and an art historian. A smile crosses my lips. Icing on the cake. My old plan begins to fade as something new takes its place. Having someone on my arm who knows art could be an even bigger and better opportunity for me, and I kick myself for not thinking of it sooner. If I don’t hear anything sketchy, maybe she can spot something. At least it covers another angle without drawing attention on me.

Then I see her price, and my eyes go wide. She’s…not cheap, that’s for damn sure.

Why does that make me more interested?

 

Author Bio:

Join me here for free downloads, discounts and news: http://adascott.com/free-bad-boy-romance-download/

A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I’ll be there taking notes and making it even sexier 🙂

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#Book #Tour…A Wicked Treat…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Giveaway #OnTour @CrimsonSyn82 @SDSXXTours

A Wicked Treat
Sinful Holiday Series Book 1
by Crimson Syn
Genre: New Adult Romance

A WICKED HALLOWEEN ROMANCE

 Anthony Reed has me primed and ready for so much more. More of his mouth, more of his touch, more of his deliciously dirty words. The man seduced me from the first moment I saw him, And I can’t seem to stop myself from getting lost in him. But my job is at stake, and so is my heart. Yet I can’t help but fall for his devilish ways.

I have never yearned for a woman like I do Miss Ana Collins. She’s beautiful, smart and unbelievably tempting. She’s also my daughter’s Kindergarten teacher. I should stay away from her, protect her, but I can’t do that. My angel means everything to me. Even if I have to fight my torrid past, I will have her. 

She’s the only one who can mend my broken heart.

 ***This Halloween, an angel will fall in the hands of a very horny devil.***
Mature audiences only: 18+ Explicit sexual scenes and language.


My name is Crimson Syn, not really, but what fun is it to use my real name. Instead I’ll use my inner goddess’ name, it’s much more fun that way. I grew up in New York City where I had a wonderful education, loving parents and awesome friends. What more could a girl ask for?

I started writing at the age of sixteen. The first romance I read was Stephanie Laurens’ Devil’s Bride. Since then I have been influenced by dozens of flourishing romance authors and even more dashing and daring rogues. I must say it, but Fifty Shades was not my first erotic romance, nor did it influence me to start writing them. If you’ve never read Mary Balogh, Elizabeth Hoyt, Lisa Kleypas, Bertrice Small or A.N. Roquelaure’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, then you’re missing out. Those were my sweet introductions to erotic romance, and boy were they hot.

So here I am, after reading so many wonderful stories, I have too many sinful tales of my own not to share. I like my alphas rough and possessive, and I have no shame in saying it or writing it. I had delightfully wicked teachers growing up, their books took me to new worlds and brought me new loves. So, I want to do the same for you. I want to indulge my readers in those steamy reads that will send them into the arms of dangerous alphas and deliciously sexy rogues, without leaving the confines of their nice warm bed. If I am able to entice your inner goddesses, then I have done my job and I am satisfied.

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#Book #Promo…Touched by Death…#BookBoost #NA #PNR #Romance @tlmartinauthor @RoxanneRhoads

Touched by Death

T.L. Martin

Genre: New Adult Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: September 1, 2017

ISBN: 9780998395326

Number of pages: 362

Word Count: 105k

Cover Artist: The Killion Group, Inc

Book Description:

What if Death was more tempting than you had ever imagined?

With Grams’s recent passing and a boyfriend who cares more about his next drink than her, Lou Adaire only wants to run. To start over somewhere new — maybe in a town where her family has history.

But when a storm sends Lou’s truck plunging into Tuttle Creek Lake, she discovers exactly what it’s like to fight for your life. To gasp for air only to have your lungs fill with icy water. To die.

What comes next changes everything.

Dark eyes. Consuming presence.

Death. As vague as a dream yet as intense as the lightning flashing above her still heart.

Everything about him calls out to her, tugging at her with the warm vibration of his pull. He’s supposed to take her; they both know it. She wants him to.

When she wakes in the hospital in a new town, she can’t forget what she saw… That impossible sensation of him breathing life back into her, a strong beat playing in her chest and a flutter running down her spine.

Trying to move on with her life in a foreign place is hard enough, but when he comes back for more — his burning touch against her skin, his consuming presence weaving in and out of her life, and his own scars running far deeper than hers — Lou begins to realize there’s more to Death, and to the sleepy Kansas town, than she ever expected to find.

Lou lived. But what if she’s not the only one in need of saving?

*Note to readers: This book contains some profanity, sex, and some scenes featuring child abuse.

Amazon     Goodreads    

My sweater chafes my shoulder blade, and I wince as it irritates the raw, tender skin. I hadn’t thought much about the injury since leaving the hospital, having had other things to focus on—or focus on avoiding—but now the memory resurfaces in my mind: rain smacking against the windshield, trees and darkness spinning around me, the booming crack of my window breaking, and shards of glass flying at me.

I pull my sweater off. Eyes closed, I reach an arm across my chest and over my shoulder, tracing the tips of my fingers along the thick, three-inch cut that hasn’t quite scarred yet. It’s smooth beneath the stitches. Too smooth, and it feels foreign; a piece of my body I don’t recognize. I’ve always thought scars were meant to represent strength; all this one does is remind me that I shouldn’t be alive right now.

That I’m lost.

Drifting.

My eyelids flutter open, and my breath catches at the sudden touch of strong, warm fingers moving over my own. A slow, gentle stroke glides over the wound, but it’s not from me. It can’t be. My hand is stuck, frozen in place over my shoulder blade as though not daring to move. The mirror before me proves I’m alone in the bathroom, and yet, I feel it again, the same presence I felt several nights ago. Heat radiates behind my body as though someone is standing right there.

Another stroke caresses the wound, and it’s even lighter this time, like a feather brushing over me. The feeling of skin against skin is as real as anything. I can almost hear my heartbeat pounding within my chest. The fingers move past my wound, never breaking contact with my skin, and slowly trail upward, toward my neck. Though the texture feels strong and almost rough, the touch itself is impossibly gentle, treating me like something fragile.

No matter how loud my mind screams to fight it, my muscles are relaxing like jelly under the heavy sensation. My uplifted arm drops helplessly to my side. The warm touch strokes the side of my neck, wandering up further still until it’s almost in my hair. It’s light enough to send a shiver to my toes, and my eyelids start to close on their own, my head rolling slightly forward.

The presence behind me inches closer, and I hear breaths again. Just like the other night, they’re deep and controlled, right by my ear.

I have no idea what’s happening to me. Half of me is struck with a pang of fear, unease over the impossible experience. Yet the other half can’t help but be soothed by the calming tingles running through the length of me. There’s a trust I can’t explain, like a gentle, unspoken lullaby, and I know I’m safe. The heat, the masculine touch, the warm breaths soft as a whisper that rise and fall at the nape of my neck. I don’t want to think at all right now. I just want to feel.

The caress slides back down the right side of my neck, almost skimming along my collarbone, when it stops. Draws back. I hear a hitch in the breathing, a tremble for a fleeting moment, the smallest hint of the effort it takes to pull back. Then the touch returns, but only to my scar, traveling down the length of it with incredible slowness, taking its time. As though savoring every moment of contact with me, in a way I’ve never experienced. A sigh pours from my lips, and when my head falls back, it’s caught by the solid warmth behind me. It’s real enough that I could swear I’m pressed up against the presence right now, a presence that sure as hell feels like a man—tall, strong, sturdy. The feeling is so vivid I find myself thinking in terms of him instead of it. 

A shake breaks his steady breathing again, another warm tremble in my ear, and I feel the tightness of his body rise and fall with each breath.

I’m letting myself go, relaxing every part of me until the only thing keeping me upright is his body, and as I do, the hard curves of muscle tense against my back.

Something in the air changes, and the presence behind me wavers. It’s completely solid one moment, and in the next it’s fluid, as though nothing more than a strong breeze props me up. Soon it’s not even a breeze, just a puff of air, and I’m grabbing the edge of the counter with both hands to keep from tumbling backward.

My legs wobble, struggling to support the rest of me. When I catch sight of my reflection now, my face is flushed. I let out a loud exhale when I remember how to breathe and command myself to get a grip. I’m still feeling like a sloshy puddle when I slip my sweater back on over my head and drag myself to the front door of my room, unlocking it and yanking it open.

I need fresh air like a drug right now, and I can’t stumble down the stairs fast enough. I hear Claire’s bubbly greeting when I fly past the front desk, but I don’t stop until I’m standing on the sidewalk, bending forward with my hands on my knees and soaking up the crisp winter breeze.

What the hell is happening? This can’t just be in my head. I know I’ve been a little off since Grams’s passing, but there’s no way I’d be able to dream up something so freaking real.

It was here. He was here.

Whoever he is.

About the Author:

Author of romance and paranormal, T.L. Martin is also a wife, mother of 3, homebody, animal lover, and hug enthusiast. She resides with her family in Southern California.

T.L.’s novels tend to involve the things she enjoys most as a reader: relatable and flawed protagonists, unexpected twists, slow burn romances, and a lively cast of secondary characters. (Being that she writes both young adult and new adult titles, please check individual book descriptions for any content warnings.)

T.L. is presently branching out into new adult contemporary romance!

Join her newsletter by visiting her website.

Website: http://officialtlmartin.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/t.l.martin/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tlmartinauthor

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/T.-L.-Martin/e/B01N9B5OMC

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16127395.T_L_Martin

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#CoverReveal…Butterfly…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #OnTour #@cambriahebert @XpressoTours

Butterfly
Cambria Hebert
(Public Enemy)
Publication date: November 3, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Drunken brawls. One-night stands.

No-show interviews. Toilet-papering my hoity-toity neighbor’s house.

Insulting my fans. Trashing hotel rooms.

What’s it take to become public enemy number one?

I just told you.

I’ve done all that and more.

My poor conduct got me on the Celebs Behaving Badly list

and ultimately ruined my career.

From the world’s number-one popstar to world’s most hated.

That’s me. Ten Stark.

Go underground, they said. Stay out of the spotlight.

Most importantly, stay out of trouble.

Everyone loves a good comeback story.

For once, I listened.

I met someone who didn’t know my name,

my face, or the bad behavior that defined me.

She taught me I wasn’t who everyone thought I was—everyone including me.

Then someone whispered my name and things got messy, as they always do.

Now I want her back.

I’m not a caterpillar, but a butterfly.

My wings are in full color, not just black and white.

But first, I have to shed my cocoon and fly.

 

Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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#Bookblitz…Mafia Queen…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Suspense #Giveaway #OnTour @CMStunich @XpressoTours

Lure
C.M. Stunich
(Mafia Queen, #1)
Publication date: September 21, 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Three gloriously wicked mafia bosses. They play with the dark strings of my heart, lure me into temptation. As the daughter of crime kingpin, Carlo Costello, I have responsibilities. First, ferret out the traitors. Next, bring four legendary New York City families together.

I feel like a pawn on the board, a piece lost in a dirty game of violence, sex, and corruption. But I’m done with being the pawn; I want to be queen. And I’ll have three kings to reign beside me.

That is, if the sex and the seduction doesn’t kill me first.
One of my lovers is a traitor. My heart doesn’t care.
But the families will.

Goodreads / Amazon

“Miss Costello,” a voice greeted before I’d even gotten the chance to settle onto the leather bench seat. “It’s a pleasure.”

Holy. Shit.

My skin rippled with sinful delight and I unknowingly wet my lower lip with my tongue.

The voice that was speaking from the shadows was warm, but dangerous, this easy tone that belied the true nature underneath. It was darkness made sound, like church bells in the night, a warning to lone travelers to stay away. To run.

I just wasn’t sure if I was supposed to run away … or run toward it.

“Mr. Moran,” I said, feeling my heartbeat pick up in a staccato rhythm that sloshed the blood between my ears and turned the volume up on my pulse to a point where I could barely hear my own thoughts.

I blinked several times, trying to adjust to the low light in the backseat.

Before I’d even gotten the chance to gather my thoughts, a hand was coming to rest on my right leg, the scorching path of a thumbprint chasing its away across the bare skin below the slit in my dress.

Shivers of heat rose up in my skin, obliterating the words in my mouth, freezing my hand in mid-movement as I tried to shove Marcell’s away.

“A pleasure,” he repeated, withdrawing his hand and leaving me an icy ruin.

“I …” I had no idea what to say, sitting there and blinking through the shadows at the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. I mean Bo was handsome, but … the man sitting next to me was pure unadulterated sin. He was lust given life, a demon risen from the depths of hell, as beautiful as he was dangerous.

The words died on my lips.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his eyes as black as the darkness outside the SUV, his hair an indistinguishable shade from the shadows. His smile was liquid agony, melting my insides and calling up every single shred of my DNA that belonged to the Costello family.

Hot. Impulsive. Easy to anger and quick to lust.

It was literally in my blood.

And I’d been ignoring it for eight, almost nine, years.

That was going to come back to bite me in the ass, wasn’t it?

Author Bio:

C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn’t mind – especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.

She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she’s not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She’s the author of over thirty novels – romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There’s a heck of a lot to do there.

Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She’s already looking forward to it.

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#Bookblitz…#At Any Price…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Giveaway #OnTour @BrennaAubrey @XpressoTours

At Any Price
Brenna Aubrey
(Gaming the System #1)
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Achievement Unlocked: Geek Virgin

When Mia Strong, proud geek-girl and popular gaming blogger, auctions off her virginity online, she knows she’ll make waves. But what she will not be making is a love connection. Her rules are set in stone: One night. No further contact.

It’s a desperate step, but it’s the only way she can go to medical school and pay her mother’s mounting hospital bills.

Difficulty Level: Millionaire CEO

Adam Drake, the enigmatic auction winner, is a software prodigy who made his first million at seventeen. Now, in his mid-twenties, he’s sexy, driven and–as CEO of his own gaming company–he’s used to making the rules. Before Mia knows what’s happening, he’s found the loophole in the rules of her auction. Every stipulation she’s made to protect her heart gets tossed by the wayside.

She can’t tell if he’s playing her…or if he’s playing for keeps.

This New Adult book is intended for readers over the age of 18 due to adult language, sexual content and adult situations.

Love the new look? Add it to your library!

At Any Price
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At Any Turn
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

At Any Moment
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Worth Any Cost
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Girl Geek
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Played
Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

 

Author Bio:

Brenna Aubrey is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author of contemporary romance stories that center on geek culture.

She has always sought comfort in good books and the long, involved stories she weaves in her head. Brenna is a city girl with a nature-lover’s heart. She therefore finds herself out in green open spaces any chance she can get. She’s also a mom, teacher, geek girl, Francophile, unabashed video-game addict & eBook hoarder.

She currently resides on the west coast of the US with her husband, two children, and two adorable golden retriever pups.

Sign up for Brenna’s email list for release updates, and free content (deleted scenes, bonus stories, etc.) please copy & paste this link into your browser:
http://BrennaAubrey.net/newsletter-signup

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#Bookblitz…Caught Beast Mate…#BookBoost #Dystopian #NA #PNR #Romance #Giveaway #OnTour @MilanaJacks @XpressoTours

Caught Beast Mate
Milana Jacks
(Beast Mates #4)
Publication date: October 7, 2017
Genres: Dystopian, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Her protector, her nemesis. His once-in-a-lifetime second chance.

Kidnapped and taken from her home, Sienna is stuck in a beast community without the resources to find her way back. But she’s a survivor. Just like the wounded, bone-thin beast she finds in the desert.

Torrent was warned never to steal a human woman—especially if she’s his pair. He didn’t listen. Captured, beaten, starved by Men of Earth, he’s as near death as he can get without tipping into the void.

When her familiar scent brings him back to consciousness, recognition slams his gut. But there’s no answering light in her blue eyes. It’s just as well. If she remembered him, she’d know to run from the beast who once took her.

Although the spark of attraction burns bright between them, there’s danger in the heat. Because even if his crippled body had something to offer her, the forces arrayed against them are determined to snuff out their love before it catches flame.

Goodreads / Amazon

Book 0 – Virgin Beast Mate – is free on Amazon!

“Ah. But werewolves don’t exist.”

“Neither did aliens until you came here.”

“True.”

“It’s the teeth,” she said. “And your jaw. It’s large and hard, and when you open your mouth, all your teeth show. I don’t want to feed you, you know, put my hand inside the jaws.”

“Well, I’m not gonna bite your hand.”

“I don’t know that. The one I remember bit my dad.”

Here goes. “You want to tell me about it?”

“Sure. A beast went after me and Dad. Dad fought him. Before the beast snatched me, Daddy got him in the chest.” She pointed at my scar.

I lifted her hand with mine, picked up the fork, and put it in my mouth. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”

Sienna fed me another few bites. I put my hand over her knee. She paused but didn’t reject my touch.

“We rode to Beast City. He was losing a lot of blood, couldn’t ride his bike. So he parked in the middle of the desert. Then he fell off the bike. I called his people on their emergency channel and told them our location.”

That did not happen. She made it up. “How did you know to call them?”

“Oh, you know, I pressed buttons on his bike until a beast answered my Mayday call.”

“And then what happened?” I squeezed her knee when she put more food in my mouth. I dreaded finishing my meal and searched the tray for dessert or something else she could feed me.

“I told them where we were so they knew to come get their guy.”

“He snatched you and killed your Dad, but you found it in your heart to save his life.”

“I’m not a monster. I couldn’t leave him there.”

She’d robbed me and left me to die. “How did you know where you landed?”

“A compass on the bike’s dashboard.”

“True.”

“The beast died shortly after. Before the help arrived.”

“Penance,” I said. “For taking you.”

“I’m surprised you agree.”

Sienna put the tray away, then stood there for a second. “You’re not as bad as him,” she said.

“Not at all.” I am worse.

“In a few hours, I’ll return with lunch and breakfast. Three meals a day.” It was already after eight at night. I chuckled.

She winked at me and opened the door.

“Thank you,” Zarik said from the hallway. He and the guard walked inside carrying water buckets. They dropped the buckets and pulled the tub to the middle of the room, then poured the water inside the tub. The guard left immediately while Zarik stayed. “For his bath,” he told Sienna.

“He needs one. Can you help him inside? Then we can be off.”

Wait, what? We? There was no “we” with Zarik and Sienna, and there never would be. And I was certain I’d have to kill this male when he brushed his knuckles over her shoulder. The only thing that saved his hand was Sienna. She recoiled from his touch. Damn straight! I sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Thank you, Zarik. That will be all.”

He snorted.

“Got something to say?” I cracked my neck.

His gaze drifted to my stump. I was the weaker of the two of us, but I outranked him and Sienna was mine. Mine! I growled a warning.

“Okay, then,” Sienna said and pushed Zarik out the door. She slammed it shut, folded her arms on her chest, and glared at me.

“What?” I barked.

“What’s your problem?”

“Oh, I can’t even count them all.”

“Try.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You care for me and me only.”

“I care for whomever Hasel asks me to care for, and when you leave, this beast will stay. Such is my shit life until I can leave too.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Remember my dad?”

“Mm-hm.”

“He’s alive, and he’s gonna find me. When he finds me, I’m going home.” She flung open the door. “Bye!”

“Wait,” I said. “Do you remember his name?”

“Whose?”

“The beast from the lake?” Shit! Too late. She’d never mentioned a lake.

“Priest. They call him Priest.”

 

Author Bio:

Milana grew up with tales of water fairies that seduced men, vampires that seduced women, and Babaroga who’d come to take her away if she didn’t eat her bean soup. She writes devious dystopian adult romance often about extraterrestrials and fantasy creatures roaming the Earth where she resides with her mate and their three little monsters.

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#Trailer #Reveal…Dark Paradise…#BookBoost #NA #PNR #Romance #OnTour @R_CooleyWilson @XpressoTours

Dark Paradise
Randi Cooley Wilson
Publication date: November 15, 2018
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

When you lose the one person who gave your life meaning and purpose, how do you continue to exist without her? Your love. Your soul. Your only reason for breathing.

Dark, sexy, and dangerous Gage Gallagher exists in the shadows. A gargoyle cursed to live each moment of the rest of his existence with the death of his beloved mate, Camilla, eclipsing him. The wounds of his loss run deep and haunt him and to cope, he seeks answers. But this protector doesn’t play the rules. Gage could care less who he must hurt, or what he must do avenge his beloved. He’s reckless. A traitor amongst his kind. And he’s so far lost in the evil and darkness that rules his world, he doesn’t even see the bright light of innocence until she collides with him, heart first.

Nassa isn’t looking to be saved. The powerful sorceress of the Black Circles knows all about living with shadows that haunt your soul. She’s had a hard life and had to make tough choices, hardening her heart. And while her father is a demon king, she refuses to allow darkness to pull her down—until she meets Gage. Now, she drowns in it. Thrives in it. Craves it. And may even be falling in love with it.

When Nassa becomes captivated by Gage, she soon realizes the only thing they have in common is their undeniable mutual attraction. Yet, Gage clings to her because without his even realizing it, she’s become the reason he continues to breathe, and exist. When secrets are revealed and loyalties are tested, the two find themselves need each other in more ways than one. And Nassa soon finds out, Gage isn’t just hiding in the dark, he is the darkness. He’s her dark paradise.

Dark Paradise is the story of Gage Gallagher. It can be read as a stand-alone, or after the bestselling Revelation series and/or Royal Protector Academy novels. Intended for mature readers 18+ due to language, mild violence, and sexual situations.

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Author Bio:

Randi Cooley Wilson is the bestselling author of The Revelation Series, The Royal Protector Academy Novels, The Dark Soul Trilogy, and “Covetousness” a Havenwood Falls Novella. She resides in Massachusetts with her husband and daughter.

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#Bookblitz…Perfect Ten…#BookBoost #Contemporary #NA #Romance #Giveaway #OnTour @kelleyrmartin @XpressoTours

Perfect Ten
Kelley R. Martin
Publication date: October 3, 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

First comes marriage. Then comes love.

His band’s record went platinum ten times.
I’ve known him for nine hours.
Our wedding ceremony lasted eight minutes.
Last night I must’ve had seven shots.
When our nuptials are accidentally live-streamed, I wake up to six voicemails.
He gave me five toe-curling orgasms.
His tour lasts for another four weeks.
He says he can’t wait to turn us into a family of three.
He’s only in Vegas for two more days.
His name is Tennessee King, and I’m absolutely terrified he might be the one.

This is a standalone novella with an HEA and no cheating. If you’re looking for a quick read with scorching heat and lots of heart, dive right in!

Goodreads / Amazon

 

Author Bio:

Kelley lives in Texas, but she swears it’s not all country music and cowboy boots… Okay, some of it is, but not all of it. She’s got an amazing husband, who continues to inspire her every day, even after twelve years and two ridiculously cute little girls.

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#Bookblitz…Talk to Me…#BookBoost #NA #Romance #Sports #Giveaway #OnTour @ClareJamesBooks @XpressoTours

Talk to Me
Clare James
(Impossible Love, #4)
Publication date: June 7, 2014
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports

A damaged hockey player. A smart-mouthed TV reporter. Put them together, and it’s more than a conflict of interest…

Finn Daley took the world by storm two years ago when he was drafted by the NHL. The young, handsome, high-scoring player quickly became a fan favorite. He had everything going for him: fame, fortune, a promising career, and his pick of women. But when he made an abrupt exit from the NHL, everything changed and he’s been in hiding ever since. Casey Scott plans to find out why.

After interning all summer at the top television station in the Twin Cities, Casey lands an on-air gig. Trouble is, the new role is Sports Girl—which means reporting from local bars and tailgating parties to create excitement for the hometown heroes. All while wearing tiny team jerseys that are so tight they leave little to the imagination.

But she has a plan. Uncover the biggest sports mystery of the decade, and she’ll be on her way. Question is, how far will she go to get the story?

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FREE for a limited time only!

Talk to Me is a standalone hockey romance and part of Clare James’ Impossible Love world.
This free sale kicks off the 2017/2018 NHL opener and launches Clare’s new spin-off Hockey Series with several books releasing over the hockey season.

I am ashamed to say the bouncing worked. I got the job.

And though Jonathan wanted to go out and celebrate, I wasn’t sure this news warranted such extremes. The steady paycheck, however, gave me all the feels.

My first week on the job was a blur of hair and make-up appointments; jersey fittings; tours of all the pro and college stadiums in the Twin Cities; meetings with the other girls and crew; and study sessions about the Wild lineup. I was selected as the new ambassador of hockey.

“Pass me that chicken cutlet,” Mackenzie said, looking at me through the mirror as she fussed with her cleavage.

I was getting ready to do my promo spots for the season and Mack was about to head out for her Monday Night Football cut-in. While I was new to hockey, Mackenzie had covered Vikings football for the past two years.

“The what?” I asked, confused as to why she wanted to eat a piece of chicken when she was almost ready to go on air.

“That fake boob over there.” She nodded to the table behind me. “The piece of silicone that looks like a chicken cutlet with a nipple on it?”

“Oh.” I slapped a hand to my forehead. “Of course, the chicken cutlet.”

Mackenzie sighed, clearly annoyed with my sarcasm.

Yes, she might have looked like a bimbo, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Don’t judge,” she said. “I’m trying to up my ratings and not all of us are blessed with a spectacular rack like you, K.C.”

She paused between each letter, over annunciating my on-air name. All the Sports Girls went by their first name only. Some real; some fake. I had the feeling Mackenzie was really born a Jill or Jane. She loved to go for the more elaborate (shall we say, enhanced) version of herself. Her name also allowed for some fun banter with her viewers — mainly a bunch of horny college boys and middle-aged men who were fond of saying they were having a Mack Attack.

Our sports producer, Phil, loved her. She brought in the best ratings and her public appearances were standing room only. She made him look good, and that’s really all he cared about. Phil was a bit older than I, maybe late twenties, and on the fast track. The guy lived at the station and ate fast food round the clock. He had a paunchy belly and skin so pale it looked like he hadn’t seen daylight in years. The crew called him The Mole. And though his appearance was unpleasant at best, his personality was even worse.

When I told him I didn’t want to use a stage name, that I’d rather use my given name of Casey Scott so that I could put my stand-ups on my reel when I applied for actual reporting jobs, he dismissed me with a pat on the head. I shit you not.

“Well, for one,” he began, taking great pleasure in schooling me, “you’re not allowed to use your last name. There are creepers out there and we don’t need anyone stalking you. And two, we need something a little more memorable. Let’s at least spice up your first name. Use the initials K.C. instead of the spelled-out version. It’s more fun that way. And shit knows, we need all the fun we can get with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Look,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I shook it off and took a step back.

He groaned. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Jonathan recommended you and I respect him. You had a great audition and your looks obviously fit the bill. You’re a hot girl. It’s just that you’re too serious. Our viewers like easy, breezy. This isn’t CNN for fuck’s sake. Can you just take it down a notch?”

I hated that little mole right from the start.

“Sure,” I said, all sweet. “I get it now. You want me to go out there, introduce the players and games, give a slice of life as a fan, shake my tits, and pretend I don’t have a brain in my head? Is that the gist?”

“Now you got it.” He laughed. “Work on your reel on your own time. And if you bring me a good story, I might even air it.”

He was such a dick, but he was right.

That’s exactly what I had to do — spend every spare second working on my reel. I’d come up with something so good, Phil wouldn’t be able to resist. The only issue was that he usually worked on longer pieces for the sweeps ratings periods (just four times a year in November, February, May, and July). With only a few weeks left in the month, I wouldn’t have time to get something in for November sweeps, but I could make the next period in February. Still, I’d have to work fast to come up with something that would get his rocks off.

In the meantime, I would have to stay on his good side.

Author Bio:

Clare James is the best-selling author of contemporary romance and new adult novels with spunky heroines and sexier-than- sin heroes. Her Entangled Brazen debut, CAUGHT, was a #1 Best-Selling Romance Series, and the touching family drama, Two-Hour Truce, also hit #1 as a category bestseller. And Clare’s Impossible Love Series has more than 500,000 downloads to date and counting!

A fan of smart, funny, and steamy romance, Clare spends most of her time lost in books. When she’s not reading, you can find her locked away writing. Clare is also a former dancer and still loves to get her groove on – mostly to work off her beloved cupcakes and red wine. She lives in Minneapolis with her two leading men – her husband and young son – and is always on social media chatting with readers.

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