R.E. Hargrave's Blog, page 101

BOOK BLITZ: The Text God: Text and You Shall Receive... by Melanie Summers & Whitney Dineen #GIVEAWAY

The Text God: Text and You Shall Receive …
Melanie Summers & Whitney Dineen
(An Accidentally in Love Story #2)
Publication date: May 5th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Text and you shall receive…

Jen Flanders moved to New York to be an artist. This translates into walking dogs for money, practicing yoga for sanity, and hitting up her friends at a local bakery to supplement her diet. Rent is due and she’s running out of cash. After begging the universe for a sign that help is on the way, her phone pings with an incoming text. GOD: You can do it; I believe in you!

Gabriel Oliver Daly agreed to mentor a friend’s younger sister. Unbeknownst to him, after losing her phone, said sister uses her dog walker’s phone to text him about a job offer. He responds enthusiastically.

Jen can’t believe GOD is actually texting her! But who is she to question the ways of the universe? On the first day of texting, GOD gets her a job that will keep her afloat. On the second and third days he offers even more help.

Gabriel starts to think his friend’s sister might be too flighty to make it in the legal jungle of New York. Why exactly does she need a survival job? Wasn’t she supposed to be interviewing for a position as a junior lawyer? And why is she texting him random (not to mention very personal) stuff all the time?

When they finally meet, Jen realizes GOD isn’t a deity but a divinely handsome lawyer. A complete stranger has answered all her prayers. After all, God does move in mysterious ways.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Jen

Bending over in Downward Dog, I release the whoosh of breath I’ve been holding for what feels like the last three days. Then I have a stern talk with myself. It goes like this:

Jennifer Flanders, you’re an artist. You are a highly evolved soul who is temporarily off track. While dog walking isn’t your dream job and picking up copious amounts of poop is not fulfilling in and of itself, you’re lucky to have a job. And with such cute furry love nuggets who worship you unconditionally. With the exception of Brutus, of course, who loves nobody.

Then, as I do, I answer myself.

You haven’t sold one painting since you moved to New York. Not. One. Therefore, you can claim to be as advanced a soul as you want, but you are no artist.

Back to Positive Me: Screw you. I went to art school for three years and apprenticed with Peony Parks. That’s Peony. Parks. Second only to Georgia O’Keeffe in matters of all things flowers and possibly girly bits. Those lilies do bring to mind something of a non-botanical nature. I am an artist no matter what you say.

Negative Me: Nope. Not. Lalalalalalala, I can’t hear you!

I’m as tense as the rubber bands that hold a tennis ball together. I gradually retreat out of my current yoga pose and move into a headstand. As the blood rushes to my frontal lobe, I pray to the Universe for peace, strength, creativity, and either more clients or a better-paying survival job. I can’t even afford new art supplies right now, and I’ve been told by every gallery that I’ve walked into that they don’t want me coming back until I have something new to show them.

For some reason my mind drifts off to the morning of Gram’s funeral. I remember Pops telling me that I need to ask for miracles and not to turn away from them when they happen. “Dear God, send me a sign,” I plead. “Just a little something to give me the strength to carry on.”

Not a minute later, maybe not even thirty seconds later, my phone pings. Gently tucking and rolling out of my headstand, I strike a quick warrior pose and namaste my goldfish Frank before checking to see who texted.

The yoga gods would probably prefer all electronics be banned during times of spiritual mind/body goings-on, but they aren’t worried about eviction like I am.

When I see who the text is from, I have to stop and rub my eyes before reading it again. Same result. I read:

GOD: Word on the street is you need a little career guidance. Just wanted to let you know I’m here for you.

What the … God is texting me? Is this some new Verizon service? Because if it is, what in the heck am I paying for it?

A knock on the door startles me out of my concerns. Looking through the peephole, I see my neighbor and good friend Zay Lopez standing there. Well, I see the top of his head, anyway. He’s only four foot eleven. Opening the door, I usher him into my apartment. “Hey, Zay! Wait until you hear what happened today.”

I met Zay when I moved into my building. He lives right across the hall from me and is a computer programmer. He’s a bit of a hermit who works from home because he’s too shy to go into an office. I think he’s embarrassed by his diminutive stature, which was the result of some glandular thing he was born with.

Plopping down on my sofa, my friend says, “I hope it’s good news because I could really use some.”

“Oh, no. Bad day?” I don’t want to jump right into the whole “texting with God” thing before he has a chance to unburden himself.

“Not a good one,” he says, making a grabby motion toward the Oreos in my hand. I toss them over and watch while he dumps several onto his lap. “You know that cow Shelby that I work with?”

Shelby, the cow, is Zay’s nemesis who always mentions in company email threads that Zay should be working in the office and not from home. “What’s she done now?”

“She’s convinced my boss that I need to start coming into the office at least twice a week.” He explains, “I ran downstairs to get my mail the other day and didn’t respond to her text immediately. She’s taken my transgression to a higher power.”

Sitting down next to my friend, I snatch a cookie off his lap. “Oh, no. What are you going to do?”

He shakes his head mournfully. “Unless I want to leave the apartment to stand in the unemployment line, I guess I’m going to have to go into work.”

“That sucks, but maybe it’ll be good for you,” I tell him, trying to sound confident. I’m always trying to get Zay to walk the dogs with me, but he’s not interested. I’m not sure he’s even left his apartment in the past year.

“Good for me like a live grenade to the head,” he grumbles. “What happened to you today that has you so excited?”

“Wait until you hear!” I pause long enough to know I have his full attention before saying, “God texted me this morning.”

Zay looks side to side like he’s searching for a hidden camera before asking, “God? Like ‘the’ God?”

As I nod my head wildly, he says, “Jen, I know you’re a little out there sometimes, and to be honest, it’s one of the many things I like about you, but”—he reaches over to take my hand—“I don’t think you’re getting enough protein.”

“What does protein have to do with anything?”

“Protein,” he starts to enunciate his words much slower and louder, like I’ve aged eighty years in the last minute and won’t be able to understand him otherwise, “Keeps the brain from atrophying.”

Jumping to my feet, I yell, “You don’t believe me!” Then I grab my phone off the counter and find my God thread before handing it over. “He texted me this morning while I was doing a headstand—which, I’ll have you know, is just as good for the brain as protein.”

Zay reads through the texts, muttering things like “His name is Gabe?” and “Come on, his mom says hi?” Finally, he looks up from the screen. “Who is this, really?”

“I know this sounds nuts, but I think it could really be the Big Guy.” I lower my voice out of reverence and point at the water stain on my ceiling. “I didn’t program that name into my phone, and his first text showed up right after I asked the Universe for a sign that things would work out for me. Like immediately after. I told him I needed a job, and …” I snap my fingers. “He got me one at The Asher Hotel. Just like that. I didn’t even have to fill in an application. The manager said if I was a friend of Gabe’s, I was hired.”

“Oh, Jen, you poor naïve thing. You’re being scammed.”

“What could possibly be the motive for someone to pretend to be God just so he or she could help me out?”

Zay does not look convinced. Instead, he starts typing.

JFlan: Hey GOD, this is Zay, but I’m assuming you already know that. Can you please tell me why you’ve taken an interest in my friend?

GOD: …

GOD: …

GOD: Hi, Zay. Um, I’m helping because, you know, it’s good to help people.

JFlan: I could use a little help.

GOD: Shoot.

JFlan: I need to grow four inches by Monday. Any chance you can make that happen?

GOD: That’s not really my specialty, but have you looked into elevated shoes?

Author Bios:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

--

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Author links
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BOOK BLITZ: Murder at the Met by E.W. Cooper #GIVEAWAY

Murder at the Met
E.W. Cooper
(Penelope Harris Mysteries #2)
Publication date: April 8th 2021
Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery

November 1928, New York City. No one can keep a secret like high society – especially when that secret is murder.

There are two things Penelope Harris would rather do than get involved with another murder—sing opera and flirt with Thom Lund. When two tickets ensure Penelope and Thom get some precious time together at the Metropolitan opera, neither believes another murder will interrupt their romantic evening.

Fate has a different plan. Before the night is over a failed manufacturing tycoon is found dead at the bottom of a staircase, his poisoned and dying daughter nearby. Is it an accident? Suicide? Or murder? When a fellow soprano pleads for help, Penelope just can’t help her inquisitive nature.

As Penelope pulls back the cover on a diabolical crime, Lund rushes to complete the investigation of a suicide on the Gold Coast of Long Island. What they find will uncover the sordid underbelly of high society and put Penelope on the wrong side of her own gun.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“There are three sisters?” Penelope prompted.

“Clover, Ivy, and Tulip Warwick. Sisters, all of them.” Mary replied, happy to be the source of all the best gossip. “Ivy is the worst kind of child. Ill-behaved. Well, you saw, didn’t you? Her mother knows it too—keeps sending her away to finishing school. She must have just gotten back. Tulip would be the best of the three if she could just buck herself up. At least Ivy got to go away. Tulip had to stay behind and look after her mother. I see her from time-to-time volunteering at the library. She’s nice.”

“Only nice? Not the best recommendation, Mary darling.”

“You’d know how high a recommendation if you met Clover.” Mary lowered her voice. “Clover Warwick positively has the very worst temper I’ve ever seen. Last year she attacked one of her housemaids with a shoe. The poor girl lost an eye to Clover’s dancing shoe. I was certain she was going to be arrested this time—”

“This time?”

“—but she wriggled out of it again. Everyone said her father bought the maid off. Roger Warwick must have done something, because the girl had an uncle in the police. I was so certain she would be charged!”

“Mary, that simply cannot be true! You can’t just assault a maid and get away with it!”

“Connie Whitman volunteers at the hospital and saw the maid after it happened. She said Clover could have killed her. Good lord!” Mary put a hand to her mouth. “I hope she didn’t die. I hadn’t thought of that. I hope the poor girl didn’t succumb. Absolutely horrible. But that’s who Clover is, isn’t it?”

“Are you telling me that Clover Warwick, who everyone knows almost beat her maid to death with a shoe, is singing at a society gala with a premier soprano from the Metropolitan Opera? How is that possible?”

“Violet Warwick has spent thousands on Patsy’s production to get Clover the best solo. Patsy says it’s a drawing, you know—so everyone gets a fair chance. But we all know it’s not. It always comes down to money, one way or another,” Mary nodded sagely. “I do wonder what happened to the maid.” A furrow appeared on her brow. “I see how unfair it all was now. No one would have hired her afterward, you see. It would have upset Clover. No one upsets Clover. She retaliates—I suppose it’s a good thing her father is only in manufacturing. If it had been lumber or coal . . .”

“What on earth do you mean by that?” Penelope’s head was spinning with all the social rules she didn’t know. Running a casino in Shanghai had been easier than learning the hierarchy of New York society. The rules guiding the criminal class had been as straightforward as they come. “Why would it make a difference where he makes his money? Isn’t it all the same money?”

Mary was aghast. “It’s well and good to have money when no one else does, but you can’t swan about without a care in the world when everyone knows you made your packet manufacturing cheap wire hangers. I’ll never use them, and I don’t know anyone who would. Charles says it’s just a piece of wire tied up in a knot. Can you imagine? I tell you this, Penelope: Clover can work as hard as she wants to get an invitation from an Astor, but she never will. High society won’t have anything to do with something as low as a wire hanger—even if it is clever. I bet you Clover would leave town and change her name if she could, just to get away from it.”

Author Bio:

Author of the Penelope Harris Mysteries, E.W. Cooper was ecstatic to learn her debut in the series, The Jade Tiger, was the 2020 Booklife Prize Finalist in Mystery/Thriller. A lifelong fan of classic mysteries and Grand Opera, Ms. Cooper is hard at work on the second book in the Penelope Harris Mystery series, Murder at the Met (April 2021). She lives quietly with her partner, children, three dogs, and one cat in a very noisy house in South Texas.

To learn more about Penelope Harris Mysteries (and the author) go to www.ewcooper.com and snoop around.

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BOOK BLITZ: Bossy Grump by Nicole Snow #GIVEAWAY

Bossy Grump
Nicole Snow
Publication date: March 30th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow returns with a screaming funny romance where two office enemies fake love until they’re all out of make-believe.

You know that awkward moment when your lava-hot boss says “marry me?”Not for love. Not for real. Not without a mammoth payoff.Of course, this fortune comes with a ginormous snag—Ward Brandt.

Call me bananas.I must be short of a full bushel rejecting Chicago’s finest billionaire.Who knew he was my boss when he crashed my worst date ever?Oh, but he found out.He swore I wasn’t fit for Brandt Ideas, chewed me up, and spat me back out.I vowed I’d prove him wrong—and sabotage a metric ton of his coffee.

Then tragedy strikes, upending his limitless ego.Guess who needs an image makeover to shore up the family business.Big fat hell no.King Snarlypants has a peanut-sized heart and a chip on his shoulder bigger than a redwood.

Find another sucker, Ward-hole.Even if I agreed, my shields are up.No magnetic kisses. Zero butterflies. Nix the blushing when everyone gushes over what a “perfect couple” we’d be.Then again…it’s just ninety days and mama needs a windfall.What’s one little white wedding lie with a bossy grump built like a god?

Full-length enemies-to-lovers romance loaded with banter, drama, and so much slow-burn heat you’ll want that Happily Ever After shaken over ice. A storm cloud of a man stuffed into a suit strikes a deal with the girl whose smart mouth drives him to the ultimate madness called love.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is check my email.

I’m expecting Miss One Glass to send back some whiny message about how unfair it was for me to bury her under an avalanche of projects.

There’s nothing like that, but a slideshow of the final bid in its current form attached to a blank email with the subject line Done.

Damn her.

It’s incredible how she maintains her scathing sass with a single word.

At the office, Nick stands in front of Miss Holly’s desk, sipping his sugar rush mocha and leering over her. Probably trying to look down her shirt.

Careful, you idiot. This girl knows Illinois employment law by heart. She’ll have your balls stapled to your jacket.

Muttering silently, I stop on the way to my office and my eyes meet hers. “I take it my coffee’s waiting on my desk?”

She looks up and glares a second too long, those green eyes glittering like a jungle cat’s.

“Nope.”

“No?” I spit back.

“Shocking espresso shortage. The Bean Bar only had enough left for a mocha and one double shot, and Mrs. Beatrice Nightingale Brandt takes seniority. If I’d waited for them to resupply, I’d have missed your oh-so-important deadline. Mrs. Brandt told me to let you know you could see her if you had a problem with it, though.” She flashes me a murderously triumphant “gotcha” grin.

“The Bean Bar does not run out of espresso,” I snarl through clenched teeth. The coffee shop has its shit together better than anything else in this city—the whole reason we love it and treat ourselves to Chicago’s finest dressed-up caffeine overload a few times every week.

“Sorry. We’re one cuppa joe short, but I figured the project was more important, so…” Holly just smiles and shrugs like a schoolgirl who’s gotten away with cherry-bombing a high school toilet.

The motion sends my eyes lashing down her face to the low cut of her blouse.

For a tortured second, I’m no better than my idiot brother, my eyes glued to a pair of ample tits I’d like to boss around with my tongue, my teeth, my—

Damn her to the moon.

With nothing else to say, I turn around and nearly slam into Nick.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” He greets me with his usual lopsided grin.

“Nowhere, apparently.” I level a glare on him. “Shouldn’t you be in your office working?”

He holds a hand up. “Bro, if you’re jonesing that bad for coffee, I can run down to the bar downstairs and get you an espresso. My treat.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

I need to move it before my humiliation is complete, so I push past him, go to my office, and slam the door shut. Then I remember, I’ve only seen one completed project this morning.

Where’s the other?

I open the frosted glass door and stick my head out. “Where’s the Winthrope comp catalog?”

Miss Holly looks up, twirling her blond hair like spun gold. “I’m working on it now! I can send you what I have. The final should be ready before lunch.” She points to her computer.

My eyes narrow and I fold my arms.

“It was due at eight a.m.”

Nick watches us for a minute and huffs loudly. “Yo, Ward, give her a break. It’s still her first week.”

“No excuse to miss deadlines. She has the credentials and work ethic, when she applies them,” I say.

“Aw, c’mon, the last girl took at least a solid week to make those catalogs,” Nick fires back. “There’s so much crap in them—”

Miss Holly jumps in. “Most of it I’ve been able to copy and paste, which is why I’m done with the North American hotels for comparison. Since Mr. Winthrope is coming by for a check-in this week, I thought the slideshow was more important. I’ll be done with the catalog today, like I said.”

Nick’s eyes trace from Paige—Miss Holly—to me.

Author Bio:

Nicole Snow is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author. She found her love of writing by hashing out love scenes on lunch breaks and plotting her great escape from boardrooms. Her work roared onto the indie romance scene in 2014 with her Grizzlies MC series.

Since then Snow aims for the very best in growly, heart-of-gold alpha heroes, unbelievable suspense, and swoon storms aplenty. With over a million books sold, she lives for the joy of making two people fight with every bit of their soul for a Happily Ever After.

Current fan favorites include her Enguard Protectors series, accidental love novels, plus long beloved MC romance thrillers like the Grizzlies and Deadly Pistols.

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BOOK BLITZ: Cherry Punch by Marvin Mason #GIVEAWAY

Cherry Punch
Marvin Mason
Publication date: February 13th 2021
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

A double cross sends a couple of friends on the adventure for their lives.

A chance run in with an old friend becomes a run for their lives when Sherry Rose and Benny Freeman have a misunderstanding with local drug dealers. Witnessing the massacre of friends of Sherry’s double crossing boyfriend leads them to be hunted down by corrupt law enforcement.

Having a near death experience gives them a chance to start a romance they never knew the other wanted.

Will they survive when the bad guys close in on them and finally find the love they always wanted?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

It was the first time I saw her at ‘The Fred’ in that two-piece. Her body had just developed overnight. She’d gone from wearing a onesie bathing suit with tree trunks for thighs, hanging below her to the most stunning woman this side of Dominique Chinn with tree husks for thighs and a treasure chest flowing out the top and sides of her bikini looking like she had two floatation devices. She wore a powder blue swim cap that looked like a JiffyPop popcorn tin ready to explode with popcorn. The lifeguard on duty at the deep end was a customer. I had come to let him know Ray and I were open for business and the Cherry Punch strain wouldn’t last long. He hopped out his chair, asking me to hold down the fort. He’d be right back as he dashed into the men’s locker room where Ray was waiting for him.

It wasn’t more than ten seconds after he disappeared that Sherry burst out the water like a mermaid onto dry land. The strap for her cap must’ve loosened as it floated deep into the waters as she stepped onto the concrete. Her curly hair glistened in the rays of the sun from whatever moisturizer she was using.

“Your cap,” I pointed out as I stretched my fingers to waters behind her.

Water cascaded around her as the most glorious figure emerged from the pool. Her arms had the tone of a gymnast, she was ripped from her wingspan to her calves. I knew she spent a lot of time in the water, but damn. Her face had a glow as the sun tried to crack through her darkness while water beads rolled to the ground.

“Can you get it for me, please?” she asked sweetly as her fingers rushed to her bushy hair.

I stepped back away from the life guard stand as fear instantly consumed me overtaking the shame I felt as I didn’t dare admit I didn’t know how to swim.

My eyes darted back and forth for someone to retrieve the plastic cap before it floated any further and sank below.

“Please, Benny, get it for me?” she pleaded and I was stunned. She knew my name. Like Charlie Brown’s little red head girl, she knew my name.

I took a step forward, bracing myself, telling myself it wouldn’t be that bad. I could make it out into the waters and maybe turn back. Or at least toss Sherry her cap and signal for her help after she secured the cap in place on her head. Sheesh, how long would that take? I hesitated.

“Really?” I heard from behind as Ray in a pair of red and white Speedos ran past me. A back splash of water rained upon me as he dove into the water saving the day and securing another satisfied customer.

Author Bio:

"Marvin Mason has arrived as a refreshing new storyteller with this fun adventure of young people and African-American Midwest life, the seemingly quiet but oh-so interesting world that molded me but rarely shows up in the media." ~ Kalisha Buckhanon, American Library Association ALEX Award-winning author of Upstate and Conception, winner of the Friends of American Writers Literature Award

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BOOK BLITZ: Savage Wolves and Dangerous Deals by Danielle Annett #GIVEAWAY

Savage Wolves and Dangerous Deals
Danielle Annett
(Blood and Magic : Hellbound, #2)
Publication date: April 1st 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

He’s savage.He’s sinful.He’s everything I told myself I didn’t need.

But for just one night, I’ll give in to temptation.I’ll forget he’s a shapeshifter and that I’m not.I’ll forget the Pack would never approve.

Because after tonight I’m moving.Our paths won’t cross again.Only that one night gives me more than I bargain for and nine months later I deliver a bundle of joy complete with ten tiny fingers and ten perfect toes.

A year and a half later, I’m back.But this wolf is no longer the shifter of my dreams.Now he haunts my nightmares.And what is he going to think when he learns he has a son, one who isn’t a just a wolf?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Jordy’s stare burns through me as he takes a step forward until we’re little more than an inch away from one another. His hand comes up to wrap around the column of my throat, his hold possessive. He runs his thumb over my jaw and slowly over my bottom lip. I stay still the entire time, waiting to see what this beautiful boy will do when his anger rides him like this. When his wolf’s eyes illuminate his gaze.

“You and César are mine.”

I quirk a brow.

His teeth scrape over his bottom lip, his canines seemingly larger than normal. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

His grip tightens just enough to be a warning. “You’re mine.”

Author Bio:

Danielle Annett is a snarky AF Latinx Author. Born and raised in sunny California, she now makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their three tiny terrors. She hates cheese—of all kinds—and yes that means she orders cheeseless pizza. She loves to talk (a lot) and is probably as extroverted as they come so feel free to shoot her a message, send a raven, throw up smoke signals. Whatever it may be. She love's chatting with readers so feel free to stalk her.

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BOOK BLITZ: The Anti-Relationship Year by Katie Wismer #GIVEAWAY

The Anti-Relationship Year
Katie Wismer
(The Pact #2)
Publication date: March 30th 2021
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Romance

Johanna Palmer is very much over relationships.

After a scarring experience her freshman year of college, she’s decided she’d much rather have something fun than something serious.

Her best friend Miller has seen it all—the tears, the parties, the drunken phone calls at four in the morning when she needed a ride. In fact, there might be several things Miller saw that Jo herself can’t remember.

Things Miller can’t forget.

With the whirlwind of senior year underway, Jo just wants to move on, get her degree, and land her dream job. But her past might not be as easy to outrun as she’d hoped.

The Anti-Relationship Year is a friends to lovers college romance that acts as a companion to The Anti-Virginity Pact. Both books can be read as standalones.

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—

EXCERPT:

“They’re seniors at Portland State,” Kayleigh hissed under her breath as the bouncer glanced at their IDs and ushered them inside. Miller wiggled his eyebrows as the three of them hurried through the doors. The bar was lively, but not as crowded as Jo had expected. The stage was just a small platform in the back corner with a few lights pointed in its direction. Wires and musical instruments were strewn about, but none of the band members had surfaced yet.

“I’ve never heard of them,” Jo admitted.

“They’re about to make it big,” Kayleigh insisted, raising onto her tiptoes to get a look at the line out the windows. “I can’t see Addie or Liv anymore.” She turned to Miller. “What are your roommates’ names again?”

Miller frowned and shrugged.

Jo stifled a snort. At least it wasn’t just her.

“You don’t know any of their names?” Kayleigh demanded.

Miller narrowed his eyes, considering this. “Pretty sure one of them is Alan—big guy with the goofy hair? And one of them might be Gatsby. Or maybe he just likes The Great Gatsby…” He shook his head. “Nah, he doesn’t seem like the kind to read. I think it’s his name.”

Kayleigh threw her hands up, her gaze now moving on to survey the rest of the crowd—a few people were wearing T-shirts with the name UNITED FATES scrawled across the front, but not many. She jutted her chin toward the bar and elbowed Jo in the ribs. “You should get the drinks. You look the most twenty-one of the three of us.”

Jo shot an uneasy glance toward the bar and adjusted the straps of her tank top. She already had the wristband from the front door. The hard part was over. She forced a smile and flipped her hair over her shoulders. She’d curled it tonight, and the tinted lights overhead were making it look more wine-colored than its usual copper shade. “I’ll be right back.”

The bartender did a quick once-over as she approached. “What can I get you?” His hair was nearly as red as Johanna’s was, complete with a matching mustache. He also looked to be barely twenty-one himself.

“Three beers.” Her gaze swept the bar, and she pointed to a fish-shaped tap handle. “That one.” She had no idea if that one was any good, but the bartender turned away wordlessly and grabbed three glasses.

“Those all for you?”

A man slid into the chair on Johanna’s left. The first thing she noticed was the tattoos. He braced an arm on the bar, revealing a sleeve all the way from his wrist to his shoulder beneath his white T-shirt. All of the images and words blurred seamlessly together, the black ink stark against his pale skin. A silver coin on a long chain dangled from his neck as he leaned forward.

The second thing she noticed was how inky and gelled his hair was, styled to stand up just-so in the front. He must have spent at least half as long as she had in front of the mirror tonight.

The final thing she noticed was the way his eyes lingered on her body. He found her face eventually, but it was a steep climb to get there. He started at her legs, then gradually made it to her hips, her waist, her chest, and then, finally, her eyes. He wasn’t even being subtle about it. He wanted her to see him looking at her.

From what she could tell, he had a nice body, too. But she definitely wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching her check him out.

“I don’t have NPS tattooed on my lip for nothing,” she said as the bartender returned and slid the beers across the counter to her.

“NPS?” asked the mystery guy.

She quirked an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. “No pussy shit.”

Author Bio:

Katie Wismer is a diehard pig-lover, semi-obsessive gym rat, and longtime sucker for a well-written book. She studied creative writing and sociology at Roanoke College and now lives in Colorado with her cats Max and Dean. She spends most of her free time on her Youtube channel Katesbookdate where she chats about books, life, and veganism. You can find her online at katiewismer.com or @katesbookdate on Instagram and Twitter.

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BOOK BLITZ: When a Cowboy Loves a Woman by Jennie Marts #GIVEAWAY

When a Cowboy Loves a Woman
Jennie Marts
(Creedence Horse Rescue #2)
Published by: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Publication date: March 30th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

They both know the pain of loss and how to protect their hearts…but fate has a way of stepping in…

When a kitchen fire forces young widow Elle Brooks to move in with her friend Bryn and her motley collection of rescue animals, she doesn’t foresee ending up in the muscled arms of handsome cowboy and veterinarian Brody Tate. But she can’t deny the feelings that being close to Brody are stirring in her. Spending time with the hunky cowboy and his adorable young daughter as they rehabilitate rescued horses reminds Elle of all she lost in a car crash years ago.

As a widower himself, Brody is devoted to being a good dad for his spirited daughter. He hasn’t let romance even enter his head. But now he’s met Elle. Spending time with her is shaking up the calm he’s worked so hard to achieve, and he can’t seem to get this woman off his mind.

Elle and Brody have both lost people they loved, but their mutual attraction and growing feelings are too strong to ignore. The hope of a future together is a beautiful possibility, but can these two wounded souls take a chance on each other and find the courage to love again?

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—

EXCERPT:

Everything hurts, thought Elle Brooks as she sank lower in the bathtub. Her back and shoulders ached from carrying bales of hay and brushing the horses that morning at the Heaven Can Wait Horse Rescue, where she volunteered. Although she preferred the physical labor over the headache she got from spending the afternoon with her financial advisor, going over the trust and through her finances. Between his company and his considerable life insurance policy, her beloved Ryan had left her with a substantial amount of money. But she’d give it all away for one more day with him.

She pushed a bubbly pile of suds across the spacious garden bathtub as the final strains of one of her favorite Pink songs faded in her ears. Usually the pop star’s music could energize her, but tonight she felt more like a sinking stone than any kind of rock star. With a sigh, she pushed the drain release with her toe and pulled the earbuds from her ears.

That’s when she heard the sirens.

Hair raised on the nape of her neck, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cooling bathwater raced up her spine. She slammed her eyes shut against the onslaught of memories. It had been over a year since Ryan died, but the images of the ambulance’s throbbing lights and the mournful sounds of the sirens were as vivid as if it had happened the day before.

She caught the first whiff of smoke as she heard the fire trucks pull up in front of her house. Water sloshed over the side as she stumbled to get out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, she scarcely had time to run it over her body before she heard the slam of her front door and raised voices.

Reaching for her pajamas, she pulled on the cotton shorts and wrenched the tank top over her head.

Move, her brain screamed. Get out.

The fabric clung to her damp skin as she snatched up her short robe and raced out of the bathroom. From the landing, she could see a flurry of men in yellow coats dragging a gray hose across the Italian marble of her foyer toward her kitchen.

She choked on the acrid smoke filling the air. There were no blazing flames, but the smoke scorched her throat, and she blinked against the sting of it to her eyes.

An older fireman caught sight of her. “You need to get out of the house, ma’am.”

Panic gripped her as she wildly looked around at the chaos invading her home. Then her gaze caught and held on the familiar eyes of the tall cowboy who’d just stepped into view. He was dressed in jeans and boots and a black Stetson hat, and the sight of his broad shoulders filling the doorway somehow grounded her.

She didn’t really know him—she’d briefly met him a few weeks ago. But that one time had shown his ability to stay calm and steady in a crisis situation. His name was Brody—Doctor Brody Tate. He was her best friend Bryn’s veterinarian. But why was a veterinarian at a house fire?

A plume of dark smoke billowed out of the kitchen, and Elle caught the distinct sound of the crackle of flames. She coughed, then turned around and ran back down the hallway.

She heard the older fireman’s voice yelling, “Get her out of here, Tate,” followed by the sound of cowboy boots sprinting up the stairs as she raced to the closed door at the end of the hall.

She pushed through, ignoring the rush of emotions that normally flooded her when she opened the door to the room decorated in pink-and-white stripes. A hand-knit pink blanket lay in the seat of the rocking chair. Elle grabbed it and clutched it to her chest. If she could only save one thing, it had to be this.

She turned back to see Brody in the doorway. He didn’t say anything, just reached for her hand and led her quickly back down the hallway.

They reached the top of the stairs, and she froze again at the commotion below—the rush of the firefighters’ feet, the commanding tone of their voices as they shouted orders, the pulsing flash of red lights against the white walls of her entryway.

Brody pulled at her hand, but she couldn’t move. He turned back and must have seen the panic in her eyes. His tone was soft as he swept her up, cradling her to him as if she weighed nothing at all. “It’s all right, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him, as he carried her down the stairs and out the front door. Elle lifted her head and gulped at the fresh air.

“Is there anyone else in the house? Any pets?”

She shook her head. “No. Only me.”

“You remember me? We met a couple of weeks ago at Bryn’s?”

“Yes, I remember. But what are you doing here?” And why was she clutching his neck like he was a life preserver? A handsome, tall cowboy life preserver.

Author Bio:

Jennie Marts is the USA TODAY Best-selling author of award-winning books filled with love, laughter, and always a happily ever after. Readers call her books "laugh out loud" funny and the "perfect mix of romance, humor, and steam." Fic Central claimed one of her books was "the most fun I've had reading in years.”

She is living her own happily ever after in the mountains of Colorado with her husband, two dogs, and a parakeet that loves to tweet to the oldies. She's addicted to Diet Coke, adores Cheetos, and believes you can't have too many books, shoes, or friends.

Her books include the contemporary western romance Hearts of Montana series, the romantic comedy/ cozy mysteries of The Page Turners series, the hunky hockey-playing men in the Bannister family in the Bannister Brothers Books, and the small-town romantic comedies in the Lovestruck series of Cotton Creek Romances.

Jennie loves to hear from readers. Follow her on Facebook at Jennie Marts Books, or Twitter at @JennieMarts. Visit her at www.jenniemarts.com and sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest news and releases.

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B@@K REVEAL: April May Fall by Christina Hovland

April May Fall
Christina Hovland
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: October 26th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

April May totally has her life in order. Ha. Not really. Yes, she’s the Calm Mom—a social influencer with a reputation for showing moms how to stay calm and collected through yoga, even when life is going totally off script. But behind the scenes, she’s barely holding it all together. Raising tiny humans alone is exhausting. Her kids aren’t behaving, her husband left her for his skydiving instructor, and her top knot proves she hasn’t showered in days.

Jack Gibson has one job—to ensure the media conglomerate that has purchased April’s brand makes money from it. Lots and lots of money. To do this, they’re expanding her influence from Instagram and her blog to a podcast and MyTube channel. There’s even talk about a Calm Mom cookbook.

When a video of the supposed-to-be calm April goes viral and she’s not calm—At. All—Jack is pulled in to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Suddenly, the guy with no intention to ever have children is lost in the land of the tooth fairy and toddler tea parties. When sparks fly between Mr. Mogul and the Calm Mom, he’s not the only one out of his depth. Together they’ll have to figure out if keeping it all together really can lead to happily ever after…

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Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Christina Hovland lives her own version of a fairy tale--an artisan chocolatier by day and romance writer by night. Born in Colorado, Christina received a degree in journalism from Colorado State University. Before opening her chocolate company, Christina's career spanned from the television newsroom to managing an award-winning public relations firm. She's a recovering overachiever and perfectionist with a love of cupcakes and dinner she doesn't have to cook herself. A 2017 Golden Heart® finalist, she lives in Colorado with her first-boyfriend-turned-husband, four children, and the sweetest dogs around.

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B@@K REVEAL: How To Rope a Rough Cowboy by Anya Summers #PreORDER

How To Rope A Rough Cowboy
Anya Summers
(Silver Springs Ranch, #3)
Publication date: April 20th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Maverick Greyson is barely housebroken. Having been raised on ranches, he spends the bulk of his days on the back of his horse, and can’t imagine a finer way to occupy his time – except maybe a night with a willing female. He loves women. Enjoys their company mightily. Relishes the available bounty of tourists and townsfolk alike, and rarely enjoys the same woman twice.

But the ranch’s newest guest, Bianca Peabody, makes him want to swear off the species entirely. The doe-eyed beauty, with her highfalutin’ attitude, makes his blood boil.

And yet the sorrow he glimpses in her one night changes everything. Now his soul hungers to have her in his arms. He burns for her love. Heaven help him, her surrender may be everything he has always needed.

For the first time in his life, Maverick is looking toward the future, and building one with the only woman he has ever wanted to claim. But she is keeping secrets…

Secrets capable of destroying him – and any future they might have.

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Author Bio:

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

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BOOK BLITZ: Stealth by Willow Fox #GIVEAWAY

STEALTH
Willow Fox
(Eagle Tactical #2)
Publication date: March 26th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Sold to the mafia. I’m nothing more than a piece of property to my brother. Forced into an arranged marriage, I enlist the help of Eagle Tactical.

AriellaI moved in with Jaxson after the attack. It’s hard to keep my hands off him, but he’s my boss. He’s given me a job at Eagle Tactical as his subordinate.

I don’t take orders well, especially from a grumpy boss. He’s about just as grumpy as his toddler when she skips her afternoon nap.

JaxsonI vowed to protect Ariella. That’s how much she means to me, but she’s gotten under my skin with her know everything attitude and sassy hip sway that has my body in overdrive.

I swore I’d never do a one-night stand. Is that what she thinks we shared? Is that why she hates me?

I don’t know how much longer I can wake up under the same roof, go to work with her, and not throw her down on the bed.

We have a mission that takes priority, but how can I keep my mind on the job when she’s always in the room, and I want to bend her over the desk?

STEALTH is book two in the Eagle Tactical series and ends with a HFN and a guaranteed series HEA.

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—

EXCERPT:

Hazel

I didn’t dare gaze into the eyes of the man who bought me. Thanks to my stepbrother, Nikolai, I belonged to Franco, his second in command in the mafia.

“Next week you’ll be my bride,” Franco said, his teeth yellowing and crooked. He grabbed my jaw and yanked my face closer to his for a kiss. His breath smelled of vomit. My stomach recoiled.

We stood outside his black sedan, the door open. I was to go with him. I’d sooner starve myself to death. That was still a possibility after I went with the man who I was engaged to marry.

Bile rose to my throat, and I swallowed the burning acid as it slid back down. I kept my mouth sealed shut, but it didn’t stop him from planting his thick dry lips against mine. His tongue pushed at my mouth rough and forceful, but I refused to grant him access. The scum-sucking vermin could kiss the soles of my feet.

I wanted to kill my stepbrother but not before I took out Franco.

Franco’s thick hand palmed my hair, his fingers tangled in my locks before he yanked hard, bringing my face to his. “Other girls should be as lucky as you.”

My stepbrother was nowhere to be found. Typical. Sell me and move on, like I meant nothing to him. I was a piece of property. That was it.

Franco shoved me toward the back door of his sedan.

Oh hell, no. I had the upper hand now, with only Franco and his driver. If I made it to his house, who knew the danger that awaited, how many men I’d be forced to fight or what other security measures would exist.

“Get off me!” I slammed my elbow into his stomach and stomped on his toes before kneeing him in the crotch.

His driver lifted his gun, pointing it at my head.

“Please, you’d be doing me a favor,” I said. I’d sooner die than marry him.

“Don’t shoot her!” Franco pushed the gun away from the driver, lowering the barrel.

I pulled back my fist, landing another blow, this one to Franco’s face before his hand yanked my hair and slammed my head into the side of the car.

The world spun and nausea swept over me.

He shoved my body into the back of the vehicle, slammed the door shut, and stomped around to the front passenger side.

“Don’t puke on the interior, Bitch.”

The car engine started.

My vision blurred, but I felt for the door handle and gave it a hard pull. Damn child safety locks. It didn’t open.

Roar. I flew back against the seat as the driver slammed on the gas. The tires squealed, and my nose tickled with the scent of burning rubber. The skyline grew smaller in the distance as we tore out of the city. Where the hell were we going? Where did Franco live?

“Where are you taking me?” I rubbed my eyes, confused and tired. The blurred vision was getting better, but I still felt like I’d been run over by a car.

“Home sweet home, Darling. We’re going to Russia.”

Russia wasn’t my home. I’d never been out of the country. My fingers stroked the white gold locket against my neck, the only token of my mother that I had left, a gift from my deceased father.

I wasn’t going to Russia or any other country with Franco.

I shoved my hand into my pocket and retrieved my cell phone. I turned it on silent and sent out a text requesting help. I didn’t know how long I had until the flight or until they searched me. I’d been foolish not to bring a knife or at the very least mace with me, some kind of weapon to defend myself.

I had memorized Mason’s number, having stalked him online. It had been years since we’d seen each other. We’d gone to boarding school together. He had joined the army after high school, and I had been sent to live with my father.

It was no secret he worked for the security firm Eagle Tactical. I couldn’t call them. It would be too risky. I hoped that their business line could receive texts. I didn’t have Mason’s personal number; it appeared to be unlisted.

Mason, I need your help. Please track my phone and come for me. I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t life or death – my death. Hazel

It was short and to the point. It’s all I could do. I hoped it would go through and he’d come for me.

Author Bio:

Willow has loved writing since she was in high school (many ages ago). Her small town romances are reflective of living in a small town in rural America.Whether she’s writing romance or sitting outside by the bonfire reading a good book, Willow loves the magic of the written word.She dreams of being swept off her feet and hopes to do that to her readers!

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