Lori L. Clark's Blog, page 38

Blog Tour:Abruption

Title: Abruption
Author: Riley Mackenzie
Release Date: Jan 3, 2016
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Everyone has a plan.

Dr. Guy Hunter secures his dream fellowship with a beautiful free spirit by his side. Two unexpected blue lines don't even shake his resolve—he is on his way to having it all. Until he isn’t.

Abruption: a sudden breaking off

Jules Chiappetti loves her boisterous over-involved Italian family but is determined to pave her own way. An MBA and boardroom job is her ticket out. Until it isn’t.

Abruption: an unexpected event

Four years later, Guy is consumed by the challenges of being a single father, still struggling with the aftermath that derailed his life and left his son with special needs. He doesn't realize his world went dark the same day his wife's did, until Jules, his son's new nurse, shows him the light.



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“I’m not playing games, Dr. Hunter.”

I backed up until I was leaning on the opposite counter, crossed my legs, and folded my arms against my chest. “Then explain to me why I haven’t heard from you all week. I get it was our first date and it turned into a really shitty night, but I thought we ended on a high note.” Jules’ eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip. Yeah, she thinks it ended on a high note too. “I text, I call a few times, and not once did you think to pick up the phone or text back. I’m the first to admit that I’m rusty in the dating department, actually if you want to know the truth, I haven’t dated since my wife died. I’ve hooked up, not going to lie, but I haven’t dated someone with the intention of getting to know them. You’re the exception. So I’m asking, what’s with the games?”

“I needed a minute.” Her voice was low and trailed off. So much so, I thought I misheard. Then she broke eye contact and scurried away, opening cabinets and drawers for plates and silverware.

“A minute, as in four days?” We apparently had a different definition of a minute, so I needed clarification. Suddenly, the anger I thought I was over began to resurface. “Look, Jules, I’m sorry I don’t have the luxury of tiptoeing around your feelings here, so I’m going to come straight out and tell you that your minute doesn’t work for me. And it sure as hell doesn’t work for my family. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, but I have kids, kids that already know you. Kids that already like you. This was not news when we hooked up. So if you aren’t into it, into me, or you decided all of a sudden you have an issue with my baggage, I need to know and we’ll end it now.”

Before they get too attached. Liar. Before I get too attached.

Damn, she was making me soft. She froze mid-plate grab and pivoted back around with her eyes squinted together at a peculiar angle. This expression was a new one and not one of my favorites if I had to compare. “Baggage?” She dragged out the word and cocked her head more to one side. Shit. “You think I consider Maxine and Finn baggage?” The tide changed, and I sensed she wasn’t exactly feeling me right at this moment. “Is that what you’ve been thinking all week? Seriously ... seriously?” The second seriously hit an octave I’d yet to hear from her and probably could do without hearing again, so I opted to use my northern brain and keep my mouth shut. “How could you even think that? Not for one point one second. Do you hear me?”

Nope, still not answering. That was a trick question.

“Have I ever given you any inclination that I had an issue with Finn or Max, ever? No. Never!” She answered for me, loudly, and she was pissed. “I adore your children, and I’m just as attached to them as they are to me. That’s why we needed a minute. Everything was moving so fast. You don’t even know anything about me and you opened your home to ... to me. You called me a natural, for God’s sake. You have no idea. So I didn’t know what to do with that, and you needed time to think about all that. I’m not sure either of us were ready for what we already let happen, never mind more. That’s why I didn’t call.”

Oh, we needed a minute. What were we, French now? I was tempted to call her on it, especially on the half of what she said that made no sense, but the look in her eyes stopped me. There was a vulnerability there, a softness, so I let her have that play. For now.

“Tell me, are you sure now?” I asked with a bite. She turned her back to me and unwrapped and plated the breakfast sandwiches.

Don’t think so, doll. You got your answer, my turn.

I walked up behind her, pressing my front to her back, pinning her in. She involuntarily shuddered, sucking in a bit of air when I kissed the spot where her neck met her collarbone. “Are you sure, Jules?” This time I asked against her skin.

Her entire body stiffened and she whispered, “No.”

Fuck.







Riley Mackenzie~Authors

Yep. That's an “s.” There are two of us!

We’re East coast girls separated by Long Island Sound who met in Physician Assistant School and have been besties ever since. We can safely say that thirteen miles of water does not get in the way because we talk or text, no exaggeration, at least 150 times a day. No, really, we do—about everything and nothing. Shockingly, we never (we mean never) run out of things to say.  Umm, ever. We definitely laugh A LOT and we’re a tad sarcastic. And if we’re being totally honest, one or two people might have, on occasion, used our names and ‘dramatic’ in the same sentence. But it’s hard to trust the sources since they married us. 

It only took twelve years, two husbands, five kids, two dogs, and a two-week vacation in Cape Cod later to decide the romance world needed a splash of medicine. Write what you know.

So you can easily find us at 4 o'clock on Bank Street beach with a glass of cold Prosecco brainstorming. And guaranteed if we bump into you, literally, it’s only because our iPhones are glued to our hands (totally out of our control) either writing or editing our next novel (and yes, it is possible to do from your iPhone, we mastered it … damn those straight quotations).

When we are not working on our book or reading the latest angsty romance on our kindles, you basically name it and we have it going on. Soccer, lacrosse, golf, swimming, dance, gymnastics, football, chess, baseball, basketball, skiing, ice skating, school, homework, and more school. 

Oh yeah, did we forget to mention our careers in medicine?

Needless to say, we realized fast that something had to go, so we opted for sleep. It’s completely overrated (yet so AMAZING) and delirium makes everything funnier. Good thing we share a brain and can pretty much complete each other’s sentences (definitely weird, we know).

So that’s our story, who we are … just add AUTHORS to the list!

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Book Review: You

You (You #1)
by Caroline Kepnes

From debut author Caroline Kepnes comes You, one of Suspense Magazine’s Best Books of 2014, and a brilliant and terrifying novel for the social media age.

When a beautiful, aspiring writer strides into the East Village bookstore where Joe Goldberg works, he does what anyone would do: he Googles the name on her credit card.

There is only one Guinevere Beck in New York City. She has a public Facebook account and Tweets incessantly, telling Joe everything he needs to know: she is simply Beck to her friends, she went to Brown University, she lives on Bank Street, and she’ll be at a bar in Brooklyn tonight—the perfect place for a “chance” meeting.

As Joe invisibly and obsessively takes control of Beck’s life, he orchestrates a series of events to ensure Beck finds herself in his waiting arms. Moving from stalker to boyfriend, Joe transforms himself into Beck’s perfect man, all while quietly removing the obstacles that stand in their way—even if it means murder.

A terrifying exploration of how vulnerable we all are to stalking and manipulation, debut author Caroline Kepnes delivers a razor-sharp novel for our hyper-connected digital age. You is a compulsively readable page-turner that’s being compared to Gone Girl, American Psycho, and Stephen King’s Misery.
Lori's thoughts: The book "Hidden Bodies" by the same author caught my attention and when I went to look into purchasing that one, I found out that it was a sequel to "You." I held off on purchasing "Hidden Bodies," and bought this one instead. Of course now, I have to buy the other one. :) The POV was interesting. The story is told from inside Joe's head, and when he refers to Beck, he says: "You." It's a very cleverly written story. Is it bad that there were times when I actually felt bad for Joe? Probably so. I can't tell if he had the worst or the best luck in the world. The way that he so cleverly stalked Beck, to the way he creepily got her cell phone and hacked into her email, etc. Makes you think hard about the people you meet on a day to day basis! I love a good psychological thriller. And the whole time I was in the process of reading this book, I kept thinking what a spectacular movie it would make... I can't wait to pick up the next book to see what happens next in the adventures of Joe.

Blog Tour: Who I Am With You

Title: Who I Am With You
Author: M. Lynne Cunning
Release Date: Feb 19, 2016
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People only reveal what they want you to see…
Chad Kirkwood has a secret. One he’s determined to keep buried until he’s ready to divulge it. So when he shows up on Katie’s doorstep in answer to a job posting, he stretches the truth and tells her only what she needs to know.
Katie Wicken is broken. Left to pick up the pieces of a called-off engagement and a failing farm after the death of her father, she’s determined not to let anyone else into her heart. Then she hires Chad, and Katie finds herself glancing in his direction, watching him work, and thinking about him after the sun goes down.
Something begins to awaken within Chad, too. It’s been forever since he’s felt such a genuine connection and been able to fully enjoy his life. Hell, live his life. But when Chad’s lie catches up with him, he’s forced to come clean.
And the truth could break Katie’s heart once again.
Grief and pain can make people do crazy things… but so can love.

 
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“Don’t speak about something you don’t understand, all right? Whatever Katie has told you, that’s all it is...a piece of a much bigger pie. You don’t know me, and no matter what you think, you don’t know her either.”
Chad crossed his arms in front of his chest, not sure what to say next. From the corner of his eye, he could see Katie stomping through the tall grass towards them. The dust from Jay’s car had finally billowed into the garden where she’d been working.
“Are you warning me about her...Jay?” Chad locked eyes with him, his gaze never wavering even though Katie was getting closer with each step.
Jay slammed the car door, wearing a muted grin as he matched Chad’s pose, crossing his own arms and pulling himself up to his full height, at least three inches taller than Chad’s five feet and eleven inches. “She used to be different, that’s all. Calm yourself, will you? I’m just telling you, you don’t know the real Katie. To be honest, you probably never will. The real Katie we all knew and loved died along with her father. My Katie is gone, so like I said, don’t talk about things you only think you understand.”
Thankfully, Chad didn’t have to form a response, not that he knew what he would say to that, anyway. Katie’s feet hit the gravel just as Chad had opened his mouth to speak; however, the look on her face evoked enough uncertainty in him that he swiftly closed it again.
“You said you were picking Mason up at five thirty. It’s only a few minutes past five.” Katie consulted her watch as though to confirm it, lifting her head to glare at Jay again.
“I’m a few minutes early. I wanted to see how everything was going.”
“Everything is just fine, Jay. You can come back in twenty seven minutes.” Katie didn’t look at Chad as she brushed past the two men and headed for the house, where Chad knew Mason was currently packing up his clothes and Nintendo DS to take with him.
“Katie, wait...” Jay’s pleas went unanswered, the screen door banging closed abruptly behind her. Only a defeated sigh sounded in the thick silence between them, and Chad uneasily turned away from the other man, intent on cleaning up his mess near the barn wall and getting the hell out of dodge before this situation got any more heated. Jay, on the other hand, didn’t have the same intentions.
“See? What’d I tell you? She’s impossible.”
“No. She’s hurt. There’s a difference.” Chad didn’t look at him. Instead, he plucked the hammer and tin can full of nails from the ground and pretended to admire his handiwork on the barn wall.
“You seem to know a lot about my girlfriend and her—“
“Ex.”
“What?”
“She’s your ex-girlfriend.”
Jay stared at him, seeming to mull over how to react. Chad couldn’t be sure whether it was humiliation or anger that clouded the man’s clean shaven face, maybe a bit of both. Either way, Chad didn’t fear him, and he stared back, unblinking.
“Good to meet you, Chad.” Jay’s tone was condescending and gruff.
“See you in twenty four minutes,” Chad replied, and the hint of a smirk crossed his face the moment he broke eye contact and turned away.




M. Lynne Cunning has always wanted to be an author, but it wasn’t until she discovered National Novel Writing Month and all the insanity that goes along with it that she began to truly realize her love for writing stories. While she doesn’t limit herself to writing only specific genres, her first two published novels, Until I'm Found and Blurred Lines, are considered Romantic Suspense. Her new book, Who I Am With You (to be released February 2016), will be the first in a contemporary romance series. She also doesn’t believe that the traditional typical “happily ever after” is always the way to go. You’ve been forewarned.

She is almost always reading or writing, but also enjoys spending time and traveling with her husband/best friend, Dennis, and is the proud dog-mom of two brindle boxers. She’s also a too-far-gone coffee addict and a lifelong country music fan.

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Cover Reveal: The Sound of Serendipity

Title: The Sound of Serendipity
Author: Cynthia A. Rodriguez
Release Date: April 14, 2016
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So many things can happen to a person on a Central Park bench. For Emerson Kingsley, falling in love happened, despite her broken monster of a heart.
Emerson knows more about listening than she does about love, whether it’s listening to artists as a music producer or listening to stories as she people watches.
Months of watching Maddox Bailey from a park bench are to blame for her infatuation. In her mind, the moment they meet will be spectacular if she ever finds the nerve to speak to him.
But when the two share an awkward cab ride, she realizes that maybe fantasies are meant to stay that way.
The only problem is, now that they’ve met, he keeps popping up in her life. Each time he does, Emerson finds the real-life Maddox to be better than anything she could’ve dreamed—sexy, passionate, and sweeter than his chocolate brown eyes.
A woman in love with possibilities meets a man determined to make them happen.




My eyes water and I blink in order to keep myself in check, but I can’t help the way I react to him. He sings all of his parts, skipping over mine, and I’m jealous that his first run through is without fault. He knows exactly what his voice needs to do to compliment the music. Not a second is flat and nothing is anything less than perfect.
When he exits the booth, I’m pretending to be unaffected. My wine glass is back in my hand and I’m smiling.
But can he see the fading pink in my cheeks, the glassiness of my eyes, the way my hand clenches around the glass to hide its shaking?
“Your turn,” he announces before he sits down beside me. Inside, I’m a zoo and my heart is the main attraction.
“Really, you could sing the whole—”
“Go, Emerson.” I sigh and he takes my wine from me. His hand brushes mine and I look down at where our skin met. “Go.”
My eyes crawl slowly up to his face and then his eyes and he gently nudges me, his face telling me to go. I can’t say no, so I slip off my heels and I’m a good three inches shorter. I pile my hair on top of my head and rub my hands together, hoping it helps them steady. He’s looking at me, and I feel like I have to tell him why I’m so hesitant and afraid.
“I don’t sing in front of people,” I explain.
“The good thing is, I’m only a person.” He turns to face me and leans his elbow against his desk.
Have you looked in the mirror?, I want to ask him. Only a person? Pfft. Only the most beautiful man I’ve ever stood this close to and I’ve been around some of music’s finest. I walk inside the booth and all I can hear is my breathing. Because I don’t want to worry him, I get right to it and place the headset on and listen to his verse. Then the hook begins and I’m harmonizing with his already laid down singing.
You arrest my senses,
And I’m left defenseless.
I want to tell myself not to cry, but I can’t because of the wine and because of the words. This song means too much not to cry. I only worry that I’m going to sob so hard that the words are unintelligible. Now would be a good time to look at Maddox and see if I’m doing all right, but I can’t do that either. I keep my eyes closed as I sing my love letter to no one and to him.
The songs ends but I don’t want to leave the booth. Thankfully, my tears are gone with one swipe under my eyes. I look down and wonder what comes next because I can see all of the secret pieces of me scattered before me in this small closet. If Maddox sees them, I don’t know what that’ll mean. It’ll likely mean my embarrassment because there’s no way….
“You can come out, Em,” he says, and I figuratively pick myself up off of the floor and join him. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
I grab my glass and gulp it down. My hands are steadier by the time I’m through, and I take that as a good sign.
“Don’t tell anyone,” is all I say. He nods and I don’t think he knows that I’m not just talking about the singing. Then again, why would he? I want to take every small moment we’ve shared and hold them to my chest. I want to go home with them in my arms and lock those moments in a safe, and on days where I feel like I need more, I’ll look back on the many almosts we shared.
“Yeah? Well, what the hell do we do with the song now?” I hear something in his voice and I can relate to it. I wonder if other artists feel this way after they create a masterpiece. A little empty, a little shaky. Like somehow their life source is depleted. Like sharing a bit of your soul leaves you with less and less each time.
“Nothing?” I need to sit and rest and maybe try to get back what I lost. But the more time that passes, the more comfortable I am with this piece of myself existing outside of my body.
“No, no. This is too much to keep it to ourselves.” He hands me a copy of the song on a flash drive and I toss it in my purse.
He’s so intense right now, and I just want to lie on the floor and breathe him in. So I do. I squat down near his couch and let my butt hit the ground with a thump before spreading my limbs out. The floor is hard beneath my back, but I feel a little saner down here.
He plays the song, and I can’t help but shudder when our voices sing together. How could anyone not feel something when they hear music?
“You talked so much tonight. You do realize I’m never going to let you go quiet on me again, right?” I look forward to his coercion.
He sits beside my body, and I want him to touch me so badly. Always wanting when it comes to him only to be disappointed when nothing happens. I’m drunk on his presence more than I am on the wine, and before I know it, he’s lying next to me on his hardwood floor. All of this space and he chooses right here, nearly touching me. Does he feel the world slowing? Is he reaching out for my hand?
“I love this. It feels so honest.” I hear the way he gulps after he says this, but he doesn’t know how honest it is. He doesn’t know that he’s gotten something from me that no one else has. We were at it for hours, the music making us numb to time, so I’m not surprised to see that it’s nearly three in the morning when I look at the digital clock on his wall. He’s relaxed beside me as the song plays on repeat, and we talk about random things.
I can feel his body heat and I wonder, as he tells me he’s a Leo, if he knows that his pinky is so close to mine, I can almost taste the way it’d feel to touch him. I try to remember if it felt like this before, but the same way Maddox demands every part of me belong to him without ever even knowing, he erases what used to be. Funny, it took nothing from him to erase everything from me.
I searched high and low for a way to forget the pain, and he was here all along. All I needed to do was sit in his presence.
Maybe it’s the wine, but I could lay here forever.






Cynthia A. Rodriguez hates writing her own bio. In her down-time, you can find her watching movies, ranging anywhere from classic movies to action flicks (she has a weakness for Marvel adaptations), and reading steamy novels. She is stationed in North Carolina, where she lives with her husband and their Miniature Pinscher, Winnie (as in Pooh).
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Release Blitz: Cruel Water

Book: Cruel Water
Series: a Prortland, ME, novel
Author: Freya Barker
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Hosted By:Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis



Innocence marked her...

Violation crippled her...

Love left her raw...

The life she carefully rebuilt is challenged when she is confronted with the sins from her past. The carefully applied protection is at once ripped away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

Her single night of indulgence with the silver-eyed stranger is only the beginning. He sees right to the heart of her and she is unable to ward off emotions that have been deeply buried. With the sting of betrayal still fresh in her soul, she’s surprised to find herself opening up to the honest integrity of the sharp-eyed, rough-looking biker.

When he lost everyone who mattered, he was left without roots and learned to be content simply living in the moment. Completely unprepared for the feisty blonde bartender with old pain marring her clear-blue eyes, he questions his own rules of detachment, as she unwittingly finds a way under his skin.

Appearances deceive and when the masks fall away, revealing deep, dark secrets, there is nothing left but to hang onto each other and survive the storm.

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Excerpt

I should probably leave right now. I’ve had my beer and my dinner, I should just head home. I’m really not looking to get involved with—nor am I equipped to deal with—a woman who comes with obvious complications. Yet despite the thoughts in my head, my mouth has a different plan. “I’d like to take you out.”
Something flickers in her eyes before she shakes her head and looks down at her hands. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Actually—” I sit up straighter, suddenly determined to get her to agree. “You already said yes.” I hold back a chuckle that wants out when I see her frown in confusion.
“I did? When was that?”
“You agreed to talk to me, so that’s what we’ll do: talk over dinner.” I try for a disarming grin, afraid I’m botching it up and make myself look slightly deranged.
She presses her lips together, but amusement sparkles in those eyes. “Didn’t know you were talking ‘date’, nor can I remember saying yes to anything.” She left that door wide open, and I’ll be damned if I don’t go barging in.
Leaning closer I pin her with my eyes. “I fondly remember a time you were saying yes to everything.”
When the meaning of my words register, her eyes darken and she sharply takes in a breath. “No fair,” she whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, never losing eye contact.
A war wages on her face before she finally concedes on a sigh.
“Oh fine.”
Despite the grudging response, the words are music to my ears. It’s only later, when I finally do leave the pub to go home, that I remember my earlier resolve to steer clear of complications.
Well, so much for that.



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”From Dust” (#1)

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What Others Are saying

I have only one thing to say about this novel… Inspiring.

Freya Barker has written a story that is gritty, raw and real. A story about what happens when you have the worst thing imaginable happen to you, and the people who should be your support system, don’t believe you. ~ Kez Korner

A five star sensational read. ~ Obsessed by Books

This is one explosive story, touching on subjects sure to tear you apart at times, but it is written with such skill that makes their story so amazing. ~ Lillians Book Blog

This is a breathtaking story of a damaged heroine supported by an strong man who is still recovering from his own emotional wounds. It takes you on journey towards happiness, forgiveness and above all a hope for a future lived free of a painful past. ~ Jezabell Girl and Friends



About The Author



Freya Barker inspires with her stories about 'real’ people, perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy.

A recipient of the RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for best first book, “Slim To None,” Freya has since published eight books. She continues to spin story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!

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CEDAR TREE SERIES:

Slim To None (#1)

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Hundred To One (#2)

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Against Me (#3)

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Clean Lines (#4)

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Upper Hand (#5)

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Like Arrows (#6)

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Cover Reveal: Smut

We are very excited to announce a brand new standalone from Karina Halle.SMUT is a enemies to lovers romantic comedy releasing on May 9th.





What happens when the kink between the pages leads to heat between the sheets?All Blake Crawford wants is to pass his creative writing course, get his university degree and take over his dad’s ailing family business. What Amanda Newland wants is to graduate at the top of her class, as well as finally finish her novel and prove to her family that writing is a respectful career.What Blake and Amanda don’t want is to be paired up with each other for their final project but that’s exactly what they both get when they’re forced to collaborate on a writing piece. Since Amanda thinks Blake is a pushy asshole (with a panty-melting smirk and British accent) and Blake thinks Amanda has a stick up her ass (though it’s brilliant ass), they fight tooth and nail until they discover they write well together. They also might find each other really attractive, but that’s neither here nor there.When their writing project turns out to be a success, the two of them decide to start up a secret partnership together using a pen name, infiltrating the self-publishing market in the lucrative genre of erotica. Naturally, with so much heat and passion between the pages, it’s not long before their dirty words become a dirty reality. Sure, they still fight a lot but at least there’s make-up sex now.But even as they start to fall hard for each other, will their burgeoning relationship survive if their scandalous secret is exposed or are happily-ever-afters just a work of fiction?




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Karina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.

Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.

Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.

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Blog Tour: I Pick You

Title: I Pick You
Author: Jettie Woodruff
Release Date: Feb 23, 2016
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When I left Nashville, Tennessee, I knew deep in my heart I wouldn't be back. I knew I would never be heard on every country music station around the world, and I would never step foot on the Grand Ole Opry stage. Cold hard guilt and responsibilities that I didn't want forced me on a different path.
Me being responsible for an eighteen-month-old was a horrible idea. Me being a second grade teacher in a catholic school was plain ludicrous.
Life sucked, love hurt, and I didn't know who to pick.


Amazon




I dozed off with Rydell in my arms and a weight on my shoulders, but I didn’t know why. I couldn’t pinpoint where the darkness came from, but I had a good hunch. No matter how many times I tried to ignore it and say it wasn’t so, something kept me from feeling grounded, something like Kit Noel Berry. The sudden thought that had turned into urgent words caused Rydell to jerk awake.
“What’s your middle name, Ry?”
“What?”
“Your middle name. What is your middle name?”
“Rydell is my middle name. Edith Rydell Brinkley. Why?”
I shrugged one shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Just curious. Come to North Carolina with me next month. I don’t want to go without you. Maybe we’ll find some place to busk or something.”
Even through the dark, I could see the puzzled expression. “I can’t. I made plans to go to Miami gambling with Wendi. I told you that, but I will be here for her birthday on Sunday. Promise.”
“But what if I said not to go with Wendi, that I really want you there with me?” I questioned.
“Where is this coming from, Brantley? I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong or not, but in case I am, I have to tell you, I won’t do it.”
I wore the puzzled expression this time. “Do what?”
“I refuse to be second best to anyone and I refuse to carry that kind of jealousy again. I love you, and I believed you when you said that there is nothing between you and Kit. I have to, Brantley. I can’t carry that around like I did with Ryan. There were always girls hanging on him, and it gutted me. I’m not that girl. If I have something to worry about with you and Kit, then I need to know this right now. Dump me, don’t cheat on me.”
I leaned in on one elbow and gave her a serious expression through the dark. “Babe, you never have to worry about that. I have everything I need and want right here with you. I was merely begging for my own self-satisfaction. I hate the thought of not seeing you for two days.”
Rydell snickered and touched my face. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Even you should know that. It’s two days. You’ll survive. Go to sleep. Bay is going to be awake in about five more hours, if we’re lucky.”
I plopped to the bad and took a long deep breath of Rydell’s scented shampoo, or her lotion. Something smelled amazing.
One second I had just closed my eyes, and the next, I heard a loud ringing coming from the living room. I jumped up and darted out when I realized it was my computer and Kit calling me on Skype. I darted to living room, cussing a plastic cow when I ran out to shut it up.
“Jesus, Kit. We’re not even awake yet. I am supposed to call you, remember?”
“You have a morning woody,” she giggled.
My eyes dropped to my shorts, and my hand covered my crotch. “Let me get woke up and I’ll call you back. Bay’s note even awake yet.”
“It’s almost nine-thirty on Christmas morning there. I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
“I open a toy, Daddy.”
“See, she’s awake. Merry Christmas, my little Bay Berry.”
I looked up to Bay, holding Phil, and wearing her cute little nightgown, one sock on, one off. “I’ll call you back, Kit. Give me ten minutes.”
Of course that wasn’t good enough and I wasn’t quick enough to stop Bay. She darted in front of the computer before I had a chance to put her in the right pajamas. “Oh no, I’ll wait. It took me twenty minutes to get connected. You go take care of that and I’ll talk to my sweet baby, Bay.”
I went to the bathroom in my room, covered Rydell’s naked ass with the sheet after a quick peek, and slid on a shirt and sweats, closing the door behind me. This might go better than I had planned. Rydell drank at least a six pack, and we were up really late. If I was lucky, I’d make it through Christmas morning with my family before—Wait. Not my family. I shook off the thought and started coffee, wondering why I had just internally said that.
Two cups of coffee, and five presents from her mama later, we were done. Thank God. I relaxed realizing I didn’t have to deal with any Rydell drama. One more present and I was out of the woods.
Bay opened little leather bracelet with silver diamond way too big for her wrist, and I turned my frown from her back to Kit.
“What time is it there, Brantley?”
I looked over my shoulder just as the doorbell rang. “Ten, hang on. Someone’s at my door.”
“Oh, yay! I can’t wait.”
My frown continued while I went to the door, wondering what the hell she had bought that she couldn’t wrap. I opened the front door to a truck parked in my driveway and a boy about ten or so at my door, fluffy white kitten in hand.
“My titty, I titty, Daddy.”
I was speechless. The little boy handed it to Bay wearing a big smile. I had to pick her up and help her to keep her from breaking his neck. “The lady in the email said you’d pay me when I got here. It was only twenty-five, but she said I could get fifty since it was Christmas.”
“For a cat?” I exclaimed, uncaring of his young age.
“That’s what she said. Want me to show you. My mom has it on her phone.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Here you go, Merry Christmas,” Rydell said from behind me, her fingers inside my wallet.
“My titty, Dale.”
“I see, baby. Merry Christmas. I’m going to shower while you finish up with Kit. Merry Christmas to you too cowboy.”
I watched her walk away amazed. That’s why I was so in love with her. Rydell didn’t do drama. Ever. She could have been pissed about the whole kitten thing, but she wasn’t. She was happy, ready for our own Christmas. What a relief.
I walked back to Kit with the stupid little cat. “Are you kidding me? You bought her a cat?”
Kit beamed from ear to ear. “I’m hoping it will replace Phil, and you sort of bought it. Sorry about that. I didn’t have time to get it sent. I have been searching for a kitten close to you for two weeks now. Ahhh, look. She loves it.”
I shook my head, catching a glimpse of Rydell, standing in the hall with a cup of coffee to her lips. She winked at me while standing there listening.
“Okay, tell Mommy goodbye, Bay.”
“I pway a titty.”
Kit laughed, pulling my attention back to her. “You better name the titty, and one more thing.”
“What?”
“Those are not the pajamas I bought for her. You’re lucky they’re adorable. Did your mom buy those?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this rat ball?”
“I would name it if I were you.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, Bay Berry Jandt. I love you so much. Merry Christmas, baby.”
“I titty.”

“You can call later and I’ll let you know whether it’s still alive or not.”
“Bye, make sure she has the best day ever.”
“I will, starting with some breakfast. Merry Christmas, Kit.”
“Merry Christmas, Brantley.”
I closed my laptop and looked to Rydell, waiting for the storm.
“You’re d-i-c-k.”
I rubbed my face while sputtering a frustrated breath through my lips. “What did you want me to say, Ry? I couldn’t say, oh no. Rydell bought her that nightgown.”
“I expected you to tell me the truth last night, idiot. That was something special from her mom. You could have just been up front with me. She could have worn my later. Don’t do that, Brantley. I love her to death, but I’m not her mom, and I will never try to be.”
Again, Rydell surprised me. I thought I was about to get an ass chewing for not telling Kit that Rydell bought it for her, and here she was mad because I didn’t tell her about Kit’s. Women were way more complicated than I could have ever guessed. Exactly the reason I didn’t get involved with them. “You’re right and I’m sorry, but you were so excited about it, I didn’t want to take that away from you.”
At least that softened her scowl. Rydell smiled at me, her head tilting to the side.
“Thank you for thinking of me like that, but next time just tell me.”
“Pinky promise, now can we get on with Christmas?”
“For sure. I’m going to jump in the shower. You go start bacon.”
I talked to my mother and Bridgett on Facetime while Bay played with her favorite toy, a white little fur ball, accusing them of being in on it. Even though they denied it, I could tell by the way they talked to Bay that they knew. Bridgett asked her what she named it before I told her she got it. Guilty.
Despite the fact that I thought about my little man Simon more than once throughout the day, I had the best Christmas I’d ever had in my life. Rydell and I exchanged gifts, and Bay opened a little pink guitar from me. She loved it almost as much as her new titty. I recorded her singing, Let it go, at the top of her lungs and sent it right to Kit’s email. She would piss her pants laughing. Rydell and I could barely contain ourselves. She was no doubt a performer. Her little foot tapped on the floor just like mine, and her face showed more emotion than Adele’s. My little county singer. Bay Berry Jandt.






Jettie Woodruff is a lifelong writer, living in a pretend world since she was a little girl. Jettie spent hours filling pages of spiral notebooks with a number two pencil and a wild imagination. Her very first story was a scifi of all things.go ah
Jettie writes more along the lines of erotica now. She likes to keep her readers on edge, and deliver a story that will pull out every emotion possible. Writing on the edge of taboo and dark, Jettie hopes to distribute an adventure you'll not soon forget.
Married for twenty five years, raising two boys and one girl has left lots of writing material. She has recently become a grandma to not one, but two of the most beautiful little girls on planet earth.
Jettie also hates doing this bio. That's all you get. She loves to read and write. What else is there? <3

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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Nora and Kettle

Nora & Kettle
Lauren Nicolle Taylor
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: February 29th 2016
Genres: Historical, Young Adult

What if Peter Pan was a homeless kid just trying to survive, and Wendy flew away for a really good reason?
Seventeen-year-old Kettle has had his share of adversity. As an orphaned Japanese American struggling to make a life in the aftermath of an event in history not often referred to—the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II and the removal of children from orphanages for having “one drop of Japanese blood in them”—things are finally looking up. He has his hideout in an abandoned subway tunnel, a job, and his gang of Lost Boys.
Desperate to run away, the world outside her oppressive brownstone calls to naïve, eighteen-year-old Nora—the privileged daughter of a controlling and violent civil rights lawyer who is building a compensation case for the interned Japanese Americans. But she is trapped, enduring abuse to protect her younger sister Frankie and wishing on the stars every night for things to change.
For months, they’ve lived side by side, their paths crossing yet never meeting. But when Nora is nearly killed and her sister taken away, their worlds collide as Kettle, grief stricken at the loss of a friend, angrily pulls Nora from her window.
In her honeyed eyes, Kettle sees sadness and suffering. In his, Nora sees the chance to take to the window and fly away.
Set in 1953, NORA AND KETTLE explores the collision of two teenagers facing extraordinary hardship. Their meeting is inevitable, devastating, and ultimately healing. Their stories, a collection of events, are each on their own harmless. But together, one after the other, they change the world.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / iBooksEXCERPT:I snort, push my sleeves up, and lean back on my forearms. She watches me, her eyes on my bare skin, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “Dances. Really? What’s to miss?” My experience with dances was one forced event in the camps where we watched the grownups awkwardly shift in lines to scratchy music. It didn’t look very enjoyable.
She releases the button she’s been playing with and smirks. “Says someone who’s clearly never been to one.”
“How do you know that?” I say, raising an eyebrow and touching my chest, mock offended.
She laughs. It’s starlight in a jar. I blink slowly. “Oh, I can tell just by looking at you, the way you move. You,” she says, pointing at me accusingly. “Can’t dance.”
The candlelight twinkles like it’s chuckling at me. “I can dance,” I say, not sure why I’m lying to defend myself. I’ve never danced in my life.

She stands up and beckons me with her finger, and I think there’s something wrong with my heart. It’s hurting… but the pain feels good.

She looks like a pirate’s cabin boy, shirt billowing around her small waist, ill-fitting pants rolled over at her hips to stop them from falling down. She points her bare foot at me. “Prove it!”
Shit!
I cough and stand nervously. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I put them behind my back. She giggles. Touches me. Runs her fingers lightly down my arms until she finds my hands. She grasps my wrists and I gulp as she places one on the small dip between her hips and her ribs, extending the other out like the bow of a boat. Her hand in mine.
I follow her small steps and we wind in circles, avoiding the clumps of debris, painting patterns in the dust.
I stare at my socks and her narrow bare feet, listening to the swish of them across the dirt. “You know, this is pretty weird without music,” I mutter, looking up for a moment and suddenly losing my balance.
She exhales and brings us back to equilibrium. She starts humming softly. It’s a song I’ve heard before, but I pretend it’s the first time. Her voice is sweet, cracked and croaky, but in tune as she gazes at the ground and leads us up and down the back of the tunnel.
This moment is killing me. I don’t want it, but I do. Because I know it won’t be enough and it’s all I’ll get.
The end of the song is coming. It rises and rises and then softly peters out. We look at each other, understanding that something is changing between us, and we have to decide whether to let it. Please, let it.
She sings the last few bars. “And if you sing this melody, you’ll be pretending just like me. The world is mine. It can be yours, my friend. So why don’t you pretend?”
Her voice is like the dust of a comet’s tail. Full of a thousand things I don’t understand but want to.
She stops and starts to step away. She’s so fragile. Not on the outside. On the outside, her body is strong, tougher than it should have to be. It’s inside that’s very breakable. I’m scared to touch her, but I don’t want to avoid touching her because of what she’s been through. That seems worse.
So I do it, because I want to and I don’t think she doesn’t want me to. Her breath catches as I pull her closer. I just want to press my cheek to hers, feel her skin against mine. There is no music, just the rhythm of two barely functioning hearts trying to reach each other through miles of scar tissue.
She presses her ear to my chest and listens, then she pulls back to meet my eyes, her expression a mixture of confusion and comfort. She breathes out, her lips not wanting to close but not wanting to speak. She settles on a nervous smile and puts her arms around my neck. I inhale and look up at the ceiling, counting the stars I know are up there somewhere, and then rest my cheek in her hair.
I don’t know how she is here. I don’t know when she’ll disappear.
We sway back and forth, and it feels like we might break. That we will break if we step apart from each other.
I can’t let her go.
I think I love dancing.

Author Bio:
Lauren Nicolle Taylor lives in the lush Adelaide Hills. The daughter of a Malaysian nuclear physicist and an Australian scientist, she was expected to follow a science career path, attending Adelaide University and completing a Health Science degree with Honours in obstetrics and gynaecology.

She then worked in health research for a short time before having her first child. Due to their extensive health issues, Lauren spent her twenties as a full-time mother/carer to her three children. When her family life settled down, she turned to writing.
She is a 2014 Kindle Book Awards Semi-finalist and a USA Best Book Awards Finalist.

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Release Blitz: Because of Lucy

Today we are celebrating the release of BECAUSE OF LUCY by Lisa Swallow. This is a New Adult contemporary romance title that was originally published as a novella in 2013. This is a new edition that has been fully revised and expanded into a full-length novel! Because of Lucy is the first book in the 'Butterfly Days' series and you can get it now for FREE exclusively through Amazon Unlimited, or for .99¢ for a very limited time!
BLURB:"In life, there are some people you have to lose in order to find yourself."Ness’s parents have planned her life but Ness is determined to control her own future. She leaves home and moves to Leeds with childhood friend, Abby, and shocks her parents by turning down a place at medical school to take a job in a call-centre.Ness meets Evan, a student friend of Abby’s, and isn’t impressed. He’s drunk, arrogant and rarely spends the night without a girl in his bed. But unlike most guys she meets Evan quotes poetry and can hold a conversation, forcing Ness to change her opinion.Evan is struggling to escape too and throws himself into the student lifestyle to hide from the past following him. In Ness, Evan finds somebody who shares the need to walk away from what people expect him to be.But Evan can’t hide from his past forever and when Lucy appears she threatens his new relationship with Ness. Ness is unsure she can deal with the effect Lucy has on Evan, and makes a new decision about her future.When everything falls apart and their new lives and relationship don't go as planned, Ness and Evan are both faced with difficult choices. All because of Lucy.


Purchase Exclusive from Amazon Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CAN
Pre-order the next book in the series - Coming March 29th
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CAN
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AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Lisa is an Amazon bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. She is originally from the UK and moved to Australia in 2001. She now lives in Perth, Western Australia with her husband, three children, and Weimaraner, Tilly, who often makes appearances on Lisa’s social media.

Lisa’s first publication was a moving poem about the rain, followed by a suspenseful story about shoes. Following these successes at nine years old there was a long gap in her writing career, until she published her first book in 2013.

In the past, Lisa worked as an English teacher in France, as an advertising copywriter in England, and ran her own business in Australia. Now she spends her days with imaginary rock stars.

She lived in Europe as a child and also travelled when she left university. This has given Lisa stories which would sound far-fetched if she wrote them down, and maybe one day she will. These days, Lisa is happy in her writing cave, under Tilly’s supervision.






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Blitz & Giveaway: Deep

Deep
Skye Warren
(Chicago Underground, #7)
Publication date: February 23rd 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance

Dark. Powerful. Dangerous.
Philip Mason has all of Chicago under his thumb. Except me.
We met in a perfect storm of violence and lust. He saved me and then disappeared from my life. Now I pretend I never knew that kind of darkness. I focus on midterms and campus parties, as if they can wipe the slate clean.
Then he turns up outside my dorm room—wounded and barely conscious. He’s the head of a crime syndicate, a powerful man, but he needs me now. There are traitors in his midst.
I can help him, but I can’t fall for him.
Not again.

Goodreads / AmazonEXCERPT:It was dark outside, grown late, and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Somewhere out there, Philip was probably dining with crystal and expensive wine. Meanwhile I’d probably order a pizza with one of those coupons by the door.A low sound raised the hair on my neck.
Oh God, I’m not alone.
My gaze swept over the small dorm room. From here I could see the tiny bedroom area and the kitchenette. I could see almost the entire space. Empty.

Maybe it was just one of my neighbors getting busy and—
The sound came again, louder. A shiver ran through me. It was coming from outside the room, but not from either side. It was coming from the door.

I crept over and looked out the peephole. An empty hallway bulged in the distorted lens.
Now I was doubting myself. Had I actually heard something? Maybe it had come from the dorm room across the hall. When I first moved here, it had been shortly after my “ordeal,” as my adoptive mother called it. I had jumped at every sound, both real and imagined, more traumatized by my brush with danger than I’d wanted to admit.
My gaze snapped to my phone.
I could call my adoptive mother right now, but I knew she wouldn’t want to be bothered. I could call the building management, but I knew what would happen. The same thing that had happened last time I called them. They’d send my floor advisor to check on me. If there was anything scary in this hallway, she’d have to face it first.
And if there wasn’t anything scary, if it was my imagination again, the PTSD I didn’t want to acknowledge, well then everyone would know how fucked up I was inside.
No, I had to be overreacting. This was nothing. There was no one in the hallway. And even if there was, it would be some drunk guy, passed out on the wrong floor.
I’m a normal college student, I reminded myself. I’m not afraid of anything.
Both of those things were lies, I was neither normal nor brave, but at least I could send a drunk frat boy on his way.
I opened the door a crack. Nothing.
Relief filled me, and I opened the door wider.
A body slid inside, slumped over without the door to support him. A short scream escaped me before I caught myself.
He was wearing a three-piece suit stained with blood, his expression slack, eyes glassy with pain and delirium. Philip.
Oh God, he was hurt. Really badly hurt if he couldn’t stand up. Horribly hurt if he’d ever have come to me of all people. I didn’t have time to process the shock of it, of seeing him again. I had to get him out of sight. If he’d been injured like this, someone was after him. Someone would want to finish the job.

Author Bio:
Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of dark romance. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely tender.
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