R.E. Hargrave's Blog, page 221

BOOK REVEAL: Breaking Away Series Boxed Set by Meli Raine #GIVEAWAY

Breaking Away Series Boxed Set
Meli Raine
Publication date: December 1st 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

The son and stepdaughter of rival drug dealers, Chase Halloway and Allie Boden know the odds are stacked against them, but love doesn’t care about odds. Love only wants to find a way.Chase Halloway knows he’ll take over his father’s empire when old Galt Halloway’s done, but he has dreams. Plans that have nothing to do with the drug ring his father’s so carefully built since Chase’s mom died years ago. Untamed and unmoored, when he sees Allie for the first time he realizes maybe the future doesn’t have to be so lonely…Protected by Chase during a blow-out brawl in her stepfather’s bar, Allie can’t believe the tattooed, muscled man who has eyes only for her really wants her…forever. With a past marred by her mother’s death and a stepfather who won’t let her leave for sinister reasons she doesn’t understand, she wants to choose Chase and her own fate.Drawn together by an attraction so strong they can’t find words for it, and unable to resist a physical temptation so strong they can’t deny it, can Chase and Allie’s love survive kidnapping, murder, false accusations and more?The Breaking Away Series Boxed Set contained the entire romantic suspense trilogy: Finding Allie, Chasing Allie, Keeping Allie. Each is a full-length novel, and by the end of book three Chase and Allie get the happily ever after they so richly deserve.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play
Audiobook:
Audible / iTunes / Amazon Audio / Kobo Audio / Nook Audio / Google Play Audio—EXCERPT:He’s warming me up with just his look.“It’s okay.” Finding my voice is harder than you’d think. “It really is,” I say, sighing. “I…I like it.” I’m so afraid this is it, that he’s stopped for good and that I’ll never, ever feel those hands on my body again, those lips on mine, that tongue teaching me how holy a kiss can be.“You do?” His voice is deep and low, like a man who wants something and quickly realizes there’s a strong chance he can get it.“I do.” Oh! The wedding words. I turn three shades of pink as I make the connection in my mind, and Chase smiles, laughter carrying on the wind.“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he adds, eyes twinkling. His fingers flex and he shifts his hips, looking up at the stars and away from me.“No, no, I didn’t mean…I wouldn’t presume…I…” Stammering and yammering, I can’t shut up, protesting that I wasn’t thinking about marrying him, for goodness sake. Who marries a drug dealing motorcycle club vice president?“You wouldn’t marry someone like me, you mean,” he spits out. I flinch. Can he read my mind? We seem more deeply connected than either of us ever realized.“I didn’t mean it that way, Chase. Really!” The world begins to spin and the happy moon suddenly turns sinister. How did this wonderful night become so bad, so fast? Are we arguing? This feels like an argument. I’ve never argued with a guy before, and it feels awful. Like I did something wrong and I have no idea what, but will do anything to fix it. All I want is for Chase to pull me into his arms again but instead Chase’s eyes go cold.What just happened?“You have a thing against MC?”“What’s MC?”He snorts and kicks the dirt. “Motorcycle club.”“Oh, um…” The question catches me off guard, and butterflies live in my stomach by the thousands now. The night air feels like it is brushing against every part of my skin where Chase just touched me and is erasing all the amazing feelings we just shared. My body is screaming, my brain’s on fire and somehow, I’ve offended him.Way to go, Allie.

Author Bio:
Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them. Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Newsletter / Bookbub

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BOOK REVEAL: Crashing Together by Lyssa Cole

Crashing Together
Lyssa Cole
Publication date: May 1st 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

It’s an age old story…
A summer fling…A temporary thing…
His name was Cole and I couldn’t resist him. He was everything a girl could want in a summer romance. A hot, tanned, surfer with blonde hair and blue eyes… oh and let’s not forget about all those muscles and the six-pack I couldn’t stop staring at.We agreed to just sex. Lots of sex. Lots of fun. No titles, no relationship, and certainly no love.Until the sex started to feel like something else.
Something more.Something way more…

But for him?It was still just sex.Until it wasn’t.Until everything we didn’t mean to build unraveled in a heap of secrets, lies, and broken trust.
We came crashing together but will our summer fling survive the waves?

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Author Bio:
Lyssa Cole has been in love with books for as long as she can remember. Escaping into a story is her favorite pastime. Wanting to be a writer for a couple years, she is now crafting her own stories. She loves to write sweet & sexy romance with lots of heat and some suspense to keep you guessing and wanting to turn that page! She lives in Southeastern Mass with her two kids and two dogs. Lover of coffee, all things chocolate, & always the avid reader, you can keep up with Lyssa Cole by subscribing to her newsletter here:

https://www.lyssacolebooks.com/bio

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BOOK BLITZ: What We Do For love by Anne Pfeffer #GIVEAWAY

What We Do For Love
Anne Pfeffer
Publication date: May 21st 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

Thirty-eight year old Nicole Adams has given up on finding love. Instead, the single mother focuses on the things she cherishes most—her sixteen-year old son Justin, her friends, and her art.When she convinces a prominent Los Angeles museum to feature a piece of her work, a large-scale installation, she thinks her life has finally turned a corner.Then Justin brings a girl, Daniela, home to live with them. Daniela’s angry parents have thrown her out of the house, because she’s pregnant with Justin’s child. Shattered, Nicole takes Daniela in and, in so doing, is drawn into the inner circle of Daniela’s family—a frightening world of deceit and violence.Nicole struggles to keep life going as normal. Forced to deal with people she doesn’t trust or like, fearful for the future of both her son and the grandchild they’re expecting, Nicole wonders if she can do what she tells Justin to do: always have faith in yourself and do the right thing.

Add to Goodreads / Pre-order—EXCERPT:Funny how one’s life can make a U-turn.My life made two. In a single day.I started that day as a mere potter—yes, a person who hand-makes vases and dinner plates for a living—wearing borrowed clothes and driving to the most important interview of my life. A few hours later came U-turn number one: the board of directors of CCMLA, the Contemporary Crafts Museum of Los Angeles, offered me a place in their upcoming show!In an instant, I had become an artist. I pondered this fact wonderingly as I drove home that afternoon. I was to provide them with a brand-new, never-before-seen mural in ceramics, an installation piece. My wall would be located at the entrance to the exhibit, the first thing you saw as you walked in. This was my chance, an incredible opportunity.I was an artist!It didn’t bother me that desperation clearly underlay the board’s decision. All the better when I saved the day with a great contribution to their show!I hoped.Flushed with success, I revved my ancient Toyota, Bernice, up to twenty-two miles per hour. We practically skipped over the potholes as we barreled our way up the Trail of Terror. This was the name my son Justin had given the rutted, one-lane road that wound its way up the side of Laurel Canyon to our house.Of course, I was a fill-in, hired at the last minute. I’d gotten this job when Miriam Fletcher, a customer of mine who happened to be on the museum board, moaned to me that an artist had dropped out of a show scheduled to open in six weeks. “We’re in such a pickle! We don’t know what to do!” Though her crepey neck revealed a senior citizen, Miriam otherwise projected youth, running long acrylic nails through her cropped, bleached and spiked hair, her copper earrings swinging.My cue to pipe up. “I’m sure I could help you!”Miriam trained her eyes upon me. She had recently ordered customized hand-made pieces from me to give to her granddaughters—a miniature tea set for the youngest and a statuette of a mermaid for her older sister.“You do such beautiful ceramics work, Nicole!”“What you’ve seen is my commercial work, which I do through my business Clayworks. I create as an artist under my own name.” That is, I hoped to create as an artist under my own name, if I could ever get the proper start.And now I had. I could hardly wait to tell my son the news. After sixteen years of single motherhood and hard work, struggling to support myself and Justin, I couldn’t blow this chance. And yet, I’d never done anything like this before.A twelve-by-nine foot mural. In just six weeks.You can do this, I told myself. I had to. Letting the museum—and myself—down was unthinkable.I could practically hear the snap-crackle-pop of my nerves.I pulled into what we called the car park, an open space situated beside the house at the top of the Trail of Terror, big enough to park a half dozen cars. Justin’s Ford Focus wasn’t there.When he got home from school, which should be any minute, we would raise a toast, our champagne glasses filled with sparkling apple cider.The day was unseasonably hot, and I was boiling in Bernice, her air conditioner long dead. Thank heavens my hair had stayed up all day in the deliberately loose knot that I’d coaxed it into this morning, with pretty little bits of hair hanging down around my face. A chignon, according to the YouTube tutorial. One more degree of humidity and my whole head would have coiled itself into a giant Brillo pad right there before the entire board of directors.And thank goodness I’d been able to borrow my sister’s striking red-and-orange color-blocked linen dress, which had given me just the boost of artist/business woman confidence that I’d needed. Now though, its linen skirt was hopelessly creased and hiking up around my hips. I bounded out of the car and proceeded along the circuitous route that we all used to enter the house, going through the rickety side gate, and past what was technically our front door, which no one ever opened. Instead, I followed the path that ran along the side of the house toward the yard and pool, giving a glance to my irises and roses, which grew under our bedroom windows.The white, yellow, and purple irises stood tall and elegant, but it was the roses I really loved—the fluttery, home-grown variety that came in every color of the sunrise. I would have to harvest some for tonight’s dinner table.As I reached the yard, I stepped from the cool shade of the side path into direct, hot sunshine. The sliver of Los Angeles ahead of me that appeared on clear days like this one, the perfume of herbs and blooming plants, the swimming pool that shimmered invitingly—except for my college years, this had been home all my life. Along with my sister Caroline, I’d inherited the small, dilapidated house on its magnificent parcel of land in the Hollywood Hills. At today’s prices, neither of us could have ever afforded to buy it.Entering the house as always through the French doors off the living room, I waltzed into my bedroom. It was the beginning of a new era. Soon there would be no more making pottery on consignment! No more sets of dinnerware for twelve!I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Of course, I would continue to operate Clayworks. Those dinner sets paid the bills after all. Still though, there was now a chance I could taper off the business over time, if I could sell some of my more creative pieces. Imagine me, finally, at age thirty-eight, beginning to show in museums and galleries!I changed into my regular daywear—a sleeveless cotton blouse, long flowy skirt in the coolest feather-light cotton, and Teva sandals.My old friend Mike Sawyer would be over to eat with me and Justin, as he did most weeks, once or twice. Maybe I’d give them both my wonderful news at the same time.No, I couldn’t wait that long to spill the news. I knew I would tell Justin the minute he walked in.Hearing the muffled noise of a door opening, I sprinted to the kitchen, where my son, home at last, would for sure want to hear all about it.I stopped short when I saw that Justin was not alone.

Author Bio:
Hi! I grew up in the desert around Phoenix, Arizona, where I had a bay quarter horse named Dolly. If I wasn't riding, I was holed up somewhere reading Laura Ingalls Wilder or the Oz books or, later on, Jane Eyre and The Grapes of Wrath. Horses eventually faded as an interest, but I ended up with a lifelong love of books and reading.After college and eight years of living in cold places like Chicago and New York, I escaped back to the land of sunshine. I now live in California, one mile from the Pacific Ocean, with my dachshund Taco. I have worked in banking and as a pro bono attorney, doing adoptions and guardianships for abandoned children.As a writer, I'd always been interested in children's books, since they had meant so much to me as a kid. I've found I especially like writing books about teens and twenty-somethings, an age where you make so many decisions about who you are and how you want to spend your life.I love hearing from readers, so please write to me any time at my website www.annepfeffer.com.Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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BOOK BLITZ: Smoke City by Keith Rosson #GIVEAWAY

Smoke City
Keith Rosson
Published by: Meerkat Press
Publication date: January 23rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Magical Realism

Marvin Deitz has some serious problems. His mob-connected landlord is strong-arming him out of his storefront. His therapist has concerns about his stability. He’s compelled to volunteer at the local Children’s Hospital even though it breaks his heart every week.Oh, and he’s also the guilt-ridden reincarnation of Geoffroy Thérage, the French executioner who lit Joan of Arc’s pyre in 1431. He’s just seen a woman on a Los Angeles talk show claiming to be Joan, and absolution seems closer than it’s ever been . . . but how will he find her?When Marvin heads to Los Angeles to locate the woman who may or may not be Joan, he’s picked up hitchhiking by Mike Vale, a self-destructive alcoholic painter traveling to his ex-wife’s funeral. As they move through a California landscape populated with “smokes” (ghostly apparitions that’ve inexplicably begun appearing throughout the southwestern US), each seeks absolution in his own way.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Powell’s / Indiebound.orgNow in Paperback!—EXCERPT:The years bled together. Each waking morning—or afternoon, truth be told, or evening—couched in a familiar bloom of panic. After that, after Vale realized where he was, who he was, came the rest: sickness, fear, assessment of damage, all of it stitched together with the fine red thread of guilt.Art & Artists had once called him a “relentless avatar of our contemporary, post-nuclear unease.”He woke to the alarm, studded in fresh bruises. New scabs on his knees and his teeth loose in his mouth. His lack of memory familiar in itself. Sunlight fell in the room in fierce, distinct bands.He stood shivering in the shower, the water lancing against him while lava, hot and malicious, compressed itself behind his optic nerves. This pulsing thunder in the skull, and moments from the Ace High the night before came to him slowly, like something spied through a fun house mirror. He bent over to pick up a sliver of soap and with his trembling hand batted a rust-dotted razor lying on the rim of the bathtub. The razor slid down the tub, luge-like, and Vale reached down for it, trying not to gag as dark spots burst like stars in his periphery. He stumbled and stepped on the razor. The crack of plastic, and thin threads of blood began to snake toward the drain. It was painless.“Oh, come on,” he croaked. “Shit’s sake.” He’d smoked nearly two packs of Camels the night before and sounded now like something pulled howling from a crypt. He tried to stand on his other foot to examine the cut and couldn’t manage it. He put his foot back down and stepped on the broken razor again, and now the floor of the tub was awash in an idiot’s Rorschach of red on white. He retched once and shut the water off, resigned to death—or at least collapse—at any second. The towel hanging from the back of the door reeked of mold, and he gagged against it and dropped it to the floor. He left bloody, shambling one-sided footprints to his bedroom.Apart from the painting hanging above his bed (the sole Mike Vale original still in his possession), the fist-sized hole next to the light switch was the room’s only decoration. There was a dresser pitted with cigarette burns and topped with a constellation of empty beer bottles. An unmade bed ringed with dirty sheets. The alarm clock on the floor. Plastic blinds rattled against the open window.He dressed slowly and stepped to the kitchen. Flies dive-bombed bottles mounded in the sink, on the counters. The light on the answering machine was blinking. He pressed the Play button, already knowing who it would be—who else called him?—and there was Candice’s voice.“The only man in the country still using an answering machine,” she said. “Okay. This is me saying hi. Give me a ring when you discover, you know, fire and the wheel.” Her voice then became steeped in a cautious, thoughtful cadence, a measured quality he remembered more clearly from their marriage. “Richard and I should be heading up through there on tour for another Janey book soon. It’d be good to touch base, get dinner. Call me.”It was September, the last gasp of summer. The apartment was explosive with trapped heat. A swath of sunlight fell across the countertop. Just looking at that glare hurt his eyes, his entire body, made him feel as if rancid dishwater was shooting straight into his guts. A nameless sadness, the sadness, the exact opposite of the Moment and so much more insistent, tore through him like a torrent. Like a rip of lightning, there and gone, and Vale sobbed. Just once. One ragged, graceless gasp. Pathetic. He stood sweating over the answering machine, ashamed of himself.He was out the door five minutes later, blood wetting his sock, cold coffee and aspirin hammering a bitter waltz somewhere below his heart.Time had once called him “a shaman of America’s apocalyptic incantations, one who catalogs our fears and thrusts them back at us in a ferocious Day-Glo palette.”On his way to the bus stop Mike Vale, the shaman, the avatar—looking down in his shirt pocket for a cigarette—ran directly into a telephone pole, hard enough to give himself a nosebleed.

Author Bio:
Keith Rosson is the author of the novels The Mercy of the Tide and Smoke City, and his short fiction has appeared in Cream City Review, PANK, December, The Nervous Breakdown, and more. He's been twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a finalist for the Birdwhistle Prize for Short Fiction. He's also an illustrator and graphic designer, with clients that include Green Day, Against Me, the Goo Goo Dolls, and others. A fierce advocate of public libraries and non-ironic adulation of the cassette tape, he can be found at keithrosson.com.

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BOOK BLITZ: Aries 181 by Tiana Warner #GIVEAWAY

Aries 181
Tiana Warner
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Science Fiction

A crime spree to steal aerospace technology. An intern with the brains to stop it.When Jess uncovers evidence that her boss is stealing technology to build his company, her coveted internship at Aries turns from dream job to catastrophe. Worse, her boss cons another young woman into becoming his accomplice, and the duo’s chemically enhanced skills and weapons help them become the most infamous supercriminals to sweep the tech world. Before they pilfer every aerospace lab in North America, Jess must use her ingenuity to stop them—risking her career, her relationships, and maybe even her life. 

Goodreads / Amazon—EXCERPT:The Aries Research Lab
A dead engineer was an inconvenient way to start the week.From the passenger’s seat of his Bentley, Tony used his phone to post a new job opening.“Get her car out of the parking lot. Torch it so it looks like tragedy struck on her way in.”“Yes, sir,” said Reah, weaving through traffic as she took him to the Aries office.Accidents were uncommon in the research lab. The work involved too much time behind a computer for that. But when the occasional ‘whoops’ did happen, it was an annoyance. Covering them up was a pain. Finding a willing and qualified replacement was worse.“Warehouse,” said Scott when Tony entered the lab to check the damage. “She was modifying the propellant.”Tony stifled a curse. Of course it was the propellant—the substance too stubborn to realize its own potential.“Show me.”He and Scott crossed the lab with its white lights reflecting off white tiles, white walls, white tables, and white lab coats. The five other engineers kept working, unease leaking from their pores like sweat. With only seven of Tony’s two hundred employees cleared for the lab, the hole left by their dead colleague was more of a chasm.Tony was unruffled. Their non-disclosure agreements were thorough enough for a situation like this.“What’s the damage?”“She, uh—she was completely burnt, Doctor Ries.”That much was obvious. Scott’s fluorescent-pale skin and lab coat were smudged, leaving a goggle-shaped clear spot around his eyes. Holes split the toes of his shoes, revealing socks with hamburgers printed on them.“Was anything else destroyed?”An empire of technology filled the warehouse. These were his top achievements, past and future. No accident, no matter how messy, could quash the pride he felt every time he entered it.He flung open the double doors. The stench of burnt metal and hair tickled his gag reflex.“Minor damage to the surrounding area,” said Scott, dabbing his sweaty brow with a singed sleeve. “No property was ruined.” Delightful. It took a moment to blink the warehouse into focus. Dim, cold, and vast, the place could have passed for a storage facility. Walkways snaked between mounds of technology.An early prototype of the Aries satellites—what the world came to know as the Aries 180 fleet—stole Tony’s attention as he entered. The size of a bald eagle and mounted on a podium, it was the one now-useless technology he refused to incinerate. He caressed it as they passed.Yet, despite all that filled the floor, the place was a cold vacuum, a void. Like the invisible substance called dark matter, every space in the warehouse represented an irksome gap in knowledge. Empty corners, walkways, every molecule of dead air held promise. As creator of the Aries universe, Tony intended to use any means necessary to fill those gaps.Tony’s watch vibrated. He looked at it to find a text.Reah: Need your clearance to get her purse. Locker 4. He replied, 5 mins , and quickened his step.The temperature rose as he and Scott drew deeper into the warehouse. A drone whirred overhead, taking photos at intervals. More drones hovered beneath the three-story ceiling, LED lights marking their presence. He would have to review the surveillance images later to see what happened. He might enjoy popcorn with it.They stopped at the explosion site. The concrete floor rippled, like it had melted and hardened again. Every adjacent surface was dented and singed. Five dry chemical fire extinguishers lay nearby. Most intriguingly, a black, body-shaped imprint traced the floor like a shadow, a dusting of ash in its center.Tony scattered the ash with his toe. “Looks like this place was pretty lit.”Scott cast him a sideways glance.The culprit was the twelve-foot vat towering beside the scene of the accident. Smoke wisped from the top, Tony’s hopes and plans disappearing with it into the black ceiling. The heat wrapped around him like a wool blanket.“So the propellant isn’t going well,” said Tony, like a challenge.“It just reacted badly,” said Scott. “I’m confident we’ll get it in time.”“Hm.” Don’t placate me, Scotty . What churned inside that vat represented tens of millions of dollars.Sure, every aerospace company had rocket propellant, but no one had this. This was his next opportunity for international success—his next Aries 180 fleet, so to speak. If only the damn stuff would stop failing him. The setback choked his sense of control like a vice around his throat.His father had told him there was no point in going into business unless you were going to be the best. Rather, the advice had been something like, “You wanna run a business, you gotta do whatever it takes to get on top. Might as well quit and be a shit-scraper if you’re gonna be a pussy about it.”Tony held that wisdom close. Using methods no one else was brave enough to try, he was on his way to upgrading Aries from a humble Canadian startup to the world’s most cutting-edge aerospace company.His watch vibrated.Steve: Korean Space Agency wants you to join the call. Korea would have to wait. He was already late for an appointment with the bank.“What are you going to do to fix it?” he said to Scott.“We’re, uh, looking into it.”“I hired all of you because you’re the smartest engineers in the world. You’re telling me you don’t know?”Scott hesitated. Tony hated hesitation.“There are other engineers who might know more about high-energy liquid tetrapropellant, Doctor Ries.”“I’ve scoured universities. I’ve head-hunted in the Silicon Valley. They’re too—” Tony waved a hand. “They’re not ready for the scope of the job.”Scott didn’t need to know how many applicants failed the psychological evaluation. A PhD and a 150 IQ meant squat when the candidate couldn’t pass a basic obedience experiment.Tony’s watch buzzed again. He ignored it.If he wanted this propellant, he would have to get his engineers something to work from. Sometimes, they needed a push. Call it inspiration, or pieces of the aerospace puzzle.This was a gap in the matter that made up his universe. It needed to be filled.“Give me a week. I’ll get you the data.”Global Nanosats was making headway in liquid propulsion. They could be of use.He pulled out his phone to check his calendar. An email notification appeared, reminding him of a development meeting in twenty minutes. He swiped it away.Stress tickled the base of his brain. He would have to make time to get that data between his other appointments, or cancel a few. This was more important.He’d known for a while that he was overexerting himself. His universe was expanding faster than he could manage. If he wasn’t careful there would be a stellar collision. He couldn’t keep filling these voids alone.He needed someone to help him get this information—someone smart, fearless, and malleable. He needed a personal assistant.

Author Bio:
Tiana Warner is the best selling author of the Mermaids of Eriana Kwai trilogy. Her books have been acclaimed by Writer's Digest, Foreword Reviews, and the Dante Rossetti Awards. She holds a bachelor's degree in Computer Science from the University of British Columbia. Tiana enjoys riding her horse, Bailey, and is an active supporter of animal welfare.

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NEW RELEASE: Break of Dawn by Anne Conley

New Release!  This one was inspired by Hurricane Harvey, and is dedicated to all the  first responders who dropped everything--jobs, family-life, missed vacations--and drove to Houston with a flat-botttom boat, and cases of water to get the people out of rising flood waters.


One woman in hiding. A man desperate to escape his future. A union that can’t ever happen.
A bad girl meets a good guy who is just trying to do the right thing.Dawn takes jobs—the jobs people need done, but don’t want to get their hands dirty with—because she’s good. But this job may be her last. She not sure if she’ll survive it.Jackson is reluctant to fit into his father’s mold. The Mayor’s son, he’s ready to live his life on his own terms, but it seems his life is already laid out for him.When he rescues her from a “job” in the middle of a hurricane wracking their fair city, the two paths collide.And the consequences could be dire.
Buy links: Amazon Amazon UK nook (B&N) Apple iBooks kobo NEW! Google Play 
Excerpt:
Her first thought was of his proposition. She couldn’t imagine what he would want, except sex. She wasn’t immune to his charms in that regard, but Dawn repeated her earlier thoughts to herself. He wouldn’t want just sex. He looked like the sort to dissect things, talk about feelings, put labels on what they were and shit. She wasn’t the sort who did that type of thing. Not anymore.Her second thought was all about the creature comforts. She hadn’t brushed her teeth, needed a shower, and if she ever wore this fucking body suit again, it would be too soon. Dawn needed clean underwear in the worst way, and her bed screamed at her from where it sat across town.And she wanted to look at the laptop that had Twitch so fired up.She sighed, and Jackson’s gaze snapped to hers. “You said you lived by Freed Park?”She nodded, just now starting her pancakes. The buttery, syrupy batter melted on her tongue, and she let out a small moan. Jackson stared at her with a stark heat in his eyes that had her swallowing hard.“It’s all underwater over there. Like, a ton of water.” She ate another bite, shoveling it down because it tasted amazing. She honestly wasn’t hungry but didn’t know when she would get another chance to eat a meal cooked this well. Breakfast might be all the people got. She could be relegated to granola bars, or worse, the rest of the day. She was smart enough to know not to turn down perfectly good food.So Dawn ignored him and cleaned her plate, letting out a soft belch when she was finished before pushing the plate away. Jackson picked it up and threw it in the trash in the corner before coming back to sit in the seat next to her. The air thickened between them, and he tugged her chair closer to him, placing her between his knees. He leaned down so they shared the same air. It was totally unnecessary in the largish space of the room that only held the two of them, but she allowed it.Reveled in it, actually.She could see his greenish-gray eyes in the light of the morning. At night, they had glittered in the darkness, but she hadn’t been able to tell what color they were.Dawn was hopelessly lost in them. His sandy-blond hair was cut short on the sides, still standing up on the top of his head, but it had been tamed a bit since last night. And his breath smelled slightly minty.Son of a bitch had found a toothbrush. “I think I can use you,” he said, breaking the pregnant silence with words that held a double entendre she couldn’t not laugh at. He blushed, and it was cuter than she cared to admit. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Okay. I do need you, but not the way that came out.”She sighed, angry at her curiosity for rearing its head. She just knew she was going to get in too deep with this guy. Dawn could feel it in her gut.
About the Author
Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She’s been writing for public consumption for the past several years. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head. Currently, she has five romance series. Playing with Fire explores the trials and tribulations of a small team of fire fighters in the fictional mountain town of Pamona Gulch. In Pierce Securities, she gives us Ryan, Evan, Miriam, Zack, Quinten, Jordan, Hollerman, and Simon. Her favorite series, Book B!tches, is all about a group of women in Mystic, Texas who get into all sorts of shenanigans. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God’s four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human.

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BOOK REVEAL: In Other Words by Jennifer Woodhull

In Other Words
Jennifer Woodhull
Publication date: April 30th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

DexterWe became close friends in college. When Sinclair returns home to Dallas after two years in New York, I introduce her to my best friend Cole. The good-looking playboy ballplayer is the perfect kind of guy for the woman I’m sure would never be interested in me…even if seeing them together breaks my heart.

Sinclair.He was the nerdy PhD candidate. I was the cheerleader. We made unlikely friends. Moving back home after two years away, he looks hotter than ever. When I start dating his ballplayer best friend, things get complicated. He doesn’t see me as girlfriend material…but I can’t get him, or my feelings for him, out of my head.

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Author Bio:
Jennifer Woodhull is based in the Southern United States, spending time in her second home of England, and traveling as often as she can. Her love of travel permeates her work, and her characters often find themselves exploring new and foreign surroundings. A keen observer of human behavior, Jennifer often draws inspiration from something as simple as a fleeting connection, or the glimpse of a unique trait or characteristic. Her favorite place to write is on airplanes. "The drone of the engine, the scores of people, all traveling to something or from something, and being disconnected from digital distractions are a combination that provide the perfect place to write," she says. "If you see a woman in seat 9F who is balancing her Macbook on her lap because it's time to close your tray table, please have patience. I'm just trying to finish one more sentence."Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

BOOK BLITZ: The Last Wingman by Daisy Prescott #GIVEAWAY

The Last Wingman
Daisy Prescott
(Wingmen #6)
Publication date: March 7th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The Last Wingman is a standalone enemies to lovers romance.
Jonah Kingston is the last wingman standing.June Moxee doesn’t care if he’s the last man on earth.
I haven’t exactly avoided relationships, but love has never been a priority. Solitude doesn’t bother me and being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. Until she moved to the island and I had to reconsider everything.June seems content running her yarn shop, knitting with the local church ladies, and avoiding me. She’s a temptress in a hand-knit sweater. And for some reason, she’s not a fan of mine. It might be the tattoos. Or the beard. Or the fact that we’re polar opposites.A woman has finally caught my attention. Too bad she thinks she hates me. Good thing I’m stubborn enough to try to change her mind.

Goodreads / AmazonNow on Kindle Unlimited!—EXCERPT:An old-fashioned brass bell jingles when I open the door to June’s store. The narrow space is made even tighter by the floor-to-ceiling cubbies that line the two long walls. In the back of the store, a picture window frames a view of Saratoga Passage like a painting.Tucked in the corner near the window is a comfy-looking wingback chair, and next to it, an oversized basket filled with balls of yarn. The shop is cozy and feminine, comfortable like a sweet grandmother’s house.A grandmother who listens to “Sex and Candy” on low volume.Not what I was expecting.“Hello?” I call from my spot near the door. There’s no sign of June or anyone else inside. Double-checking the door for a Be back soon note and not seeing one, I step farther into the space. “Hello?”A soft thump followed by more thumps comes from the desk area. Metallic pings and something heavy hitting the floor precedes a feminine voice yelping “Ouch” and “Fuck!”June doesn’t seem like the type to drop f-bombs. Maybe she’s hired a ’90s-music-loving teenager with a foul mouth.“Everything okay?” I follow the noise to the partially open door near the register.“Fine. Fine! Nothing to see here! I’ll be with you in a second. Thanks for your patience.” What sounds like rapid-fire beanbags hitting a cornhole board contradicts her words.As I see it, I have two options. I can ignore whatever is going on inside the closet and wait, or I can ignore her lie and step in to help.I go with the second choice.Swinging the door open, I’m greeted with a scene of colorful chaos. A box balances on its side on the edge of a high shelf, most of its contents now on the floor around June’s feet. She’s keeping the box aloft with both hands, but doesn’t have the height to shove it back into position.“Here, let me help you.” I step into the small space behind her and reach above her head to stabilize the cardboard container before she ends up concussed.“I don’t need your help.” Reluctantly, she releases her grip.“Okay.” Disappointed and a little hurt by her obvious annoyance at my presence, I give the corner a final shove to guarantee we’re out of danger. “You’re welcome.”“I said I was fine.” Continuing to face the shelves, she doesn’t turn her head to speak to me. In fact, she sounds downright angry.“Got it. Well, I’ll get out of your way.” Resigned, I decide to abandon my mission and retreat to the safety of my own business, both literally and figuratively.What happens next is more her fault than mine. Had she used a step stool and not tipped the box over, there wouldn’t be balls of yarn strewn across the floor, creating a minefield. Easily-tripped-over round objects that cause me to lose my balance and reach for the closest available thing to stop myself from landing on my ass.Unfortunately, I grab June by the waist, surprising her. She’s not prepared to act as my anchor. Unstable, we both stumble backward.Lucky for June, I break her fall. Unlucky for me, she lands on top of me.We’ve never even hugged before this moment. I think we might have shaken hands once when Dan introduced us, but the memory isn’t clear. There wasn’t an electric shock when we first touched or met eyes, no love-at-first-sight zings upon initial contact—unlike now when my body is on high alert that we’re not only touching but lying flush against each other.“I’m so sorry!” June wiggles, her movement drawing my attention to her clothes. How did I not notice she’s wearing a full skirt made of thin material? My imagination easily erases its existence altogether.“Don’t apologize. This was completely my fault.” My words come out a grunt as I try to catch my breath.My hands still grip her waist, making this position more awkward by the second. Unbidden, my fingers flex against her softness. Bad idea. Feeling my dick thicken, I tell myself not to move, not to even breathe. Oxygen is overrated.Shifting on top of me, she bends her knees and gets her feet under her enough to stand up in a single, ninja-quick movement. Instead of waiting for me to stand or extending a hand to help me, she exits through the door and closes it behind her.I’m left sprawled out on the floor, balls of yarn and possibly a needle poking me in the back. “No good deed goes unpunished,” I mutter to myself as I scramble to my feet. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Author Bio:
USA Today Bestselling Author Daisy Prescott writes romantic comedies about real love.
Love with Altitude, Daisy's new series of standalone Rom Coms, is set in the mountains of Colorado. The Wingmen books star regular guys who often have beards, drive trucks, and love deeply once they fall. Modern Love Stories feature characters in their thirties and forties finding and rediscovering love in unexpected and humorous ways.
Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog, Mulder, and an imaginary house goat. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.

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BOOK BLITZ: Bastien's Bite by C.A. Worley #GIVEAWAY

Bastien’s Bite
C.A. Worley
(The Light Summoners, #1)
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Alina Ray has always lived quiet life. When she starts having problems with a group of creepy supernaturals, she turns to her witch friend, Shane, for help. She never imagined his solution would be to push her into the arms of the city’s most powerful vampire. Will Alina resist what’s offered, or will she fall prey to Bastien’s bite?Bastien James has been living the high life. He has money, power, and a different female on his arm every night. When he meets Alina, he realizes his life has had no real purpose. Keeping her safe seems to be his new reason for living. Bastien plans to help Alina navigate her new reality—for the rest of their immortal lives.

Goodreads / Amazon—EXCERPT:The entire alley started to slowly blur, like a fog was rolling in. I couldn’t hear them, but the creatures maws widened and I knew they were making that horrible screech I’d only heard once.Suddenly they were gone and I exhaled in relief. A minute later, all thee fighters were walking into the room, looking no worse for wear.Aside from Shane’s torn charcoal shirt, none of them had a mark on them. I wanted to go to Bastien first, which was crazy. I hardly knew the male.My best friend opened his arms and I ran into them. A low growl vibrated through the room, followed by a quiet oomph.When I looked over to Bastien, he was rubbing his ribs and the female was looking mildly annoyed. I ignored the urge to throw myself at the sexy male vampire.I studied Shane’s face. “You’re okay?”“I’m great.”“You shouldn’t have gone out there. I told you they were dangerous.”“This isn’t my first rodeo, doll face.”“But—”“She’s right,” Bastien cut in, glaring at Shane.I stepped out of my friend’s embrace. “Thank you for helping him, Bastien. And you, too, uh, sorry, I don’t know your name.”“Sasha.”“I’m Alina.”“I know.”“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. Her tone was clipped and I got the feeling that was just how she was, blunt and to the point.I was starting to sweat again and I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t feel so well.”I stepped closer to the couch and suddenly Bastien was there, pulling me to him while barking at the other two to leave the room.Because I’d shut my eyes, I didn’t see them go. I was too busy concentrating on my uncooperative body to worry about it anyway.My hand found the skin of his forearm and my mind settled. Bastien was fast becoming my lifeline.“I didn’t take enough of your blood.”“What?” I mumbled, my face in his chest.“You’re overloaded with excess energies and your bone marrow is producing more blood than your body can handle.”“Is that why biting me helped?”“Yes, only I didn’t take enough. I should have taken more but I didn’t want to without your permission.”“You bit me without permission, stopping my seizure, so I doubt I’d have said no to you taking more.”He laughed darkly. “Oh, little dove, do you not know what happens when a vampire feeds for longer than a minute or two?”
I’d heard it could be highly pleasurable, but I’d never spoken in detail to anyone who’d been bitten. Shane was my only real friend and all he’dever said was it was worth the effort to be on the receiving end.
I shook my head.“Would you like to find out?” his asked, his voice dropping an octave.My core heated to a boiling temperature and my chest heaved for air. Gods help me, but I did. I did want to find out.I could rationalize it was because I wanted his help to stave off my seizure. That was part of it. The rational side of me was flashing the green light for this very reason.The other part? Well, that was the part that hadn’t had sex in two years.I wanted to feel his unspoken dark promise. Like a moth to the flame, I was inexplicably drawn to him.When I’d come to on the couch, I’d been aroused. I was turned on before I’d seen his stunningly sharp features, his bright green eyes and his midnight hair.His gentle touch and care for me confirmed he would not harm me. When I’d touched his face, my mind was calm and I felt like I could look at him forever.Before he touched me again—because I was going to let him if he still wanted to—I needed to warn him of my curse.“You should know that when my skin comes into contact with someone else’s I get, ah, visions. Like pictures of their future.”Bastien didn’t seem at all surprised by my confession and some of my anxiety over telling him eased off.“Did you pick up anything when I drank from you?”“No.”His emerald irises blazed and I licked my lips. “Then I’m thinking I’m immune to it. So I’ll ask again, do you want to find out what it’s like to be bitten? This time while you’re fully aware?”“Yes,” I whispered, wanting him with a fierceness I wasn’t going to question right now.A clicking purr of pure male satisfaction emitted from his chest. He fisted my ponytail and angled my face. I was surprised when his mouth pressed to mine instead of to my neck.His lips were salty sweet and I hummed with approval over their flavor. His tongue demanded entrance, which I avidly gave. I was so enamored, he could do anything right now and I wouldn’t stop him.Suddenly I was off the floor, lifted into his arms and moving. I felt us lower to the couch, never breaking the kiss. I was straddling his lap, my dress practically up to my waist.I wiggled, settling my core over his hardened length. I shamelessly rocked my hips and we both moaned. I was on fire. I needed more so I rocked again.He tore his lips from mine and I whined. Bastien’s chuckle did things to me and I wanted to please him even more.He trailed scorching kisses across my jawline and down my throat. He licked and sucked at the skin on my neck. My hips gyrated in the same rhythm as his mouth.“Oh, gods,” I panted.“Bastien will do, Dove.”“Bastien.”“I love my name on your tongue. Be a good girl and say it when you come for me.”

Author Bio:
C.A. Worley is the alter-ego of Romance Author Cass Alexander. Where Cass tends to focus on humor in her publications, C.A. loves to write fantasy. She chose to write under the two different monikers so as to not confuse (or tick off) her readers.C.A. currently resides in the Midwest, but was born and raised in the South. She spends her days working from home and her evenings are spent shuttling her kids to and fro. Her dinners are subpar, but she makes a mean dessert.When she's tired of living her sons' travel sports schedules, C.A. enjoys a glass (or four) of wine. She needs the liquid courage to click the publish button for her fantasy romance novels.Her motto is, "Be Brave," and she tries to live it every day. It takes a healthy dose of courage to get through this thing we call life.

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BOOK BLITZ: Roar & Lizzy by Debra Kayn #GIVEAWAY

Roar & Lizzy
Debra Kayn
(Slag Motorcycle Club, #1)
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He’s an aggressive Norwegian biker.
As President of Slag Motorcycle Club, Portland Chapter, Roar Akram is proud of the club’s Nordic heritage and criminal ways. He opens The Fire Ring as a cover for club business. But the server he hires at the bar becomes his biggest distraction. Lizzy with her sweet smile tempts him in every way. In his life, he takes what he wants. Whether it belongs to him or not. And, he wants Lizzy.
She’s a passive independent waitress.

One day, Lizzy Wheaton has a job and the next, she’s hired as a server at The Fire Ring. With a high medical debt hanging over her head, she gladly goes to work at the bar for a man who scares her to death. The closer she gets to Roar, the more she notices the trouble that’s hitting the club. But time with Roar has a funny way of changing her—making the forever kind of love possible.

They live in a hostile world.

With the sole purpose of gaining the Fed’s attention for their illegal activities, Slag Motorcycle Club will become the biggest threat to every motorcycle club from Montana to California.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play—EXCERPT:He set her up straight and turned her head. “Is that why you’re holding back? Do you think since I had you, I’m done?”She nodded.“Do you want me to prove I want you?” He trailed his fingers down her jaw and dawdled on her neck. “Right here?”“Coco’s upstairs.”“I don’t care.”“I do.” She moistened her lips. “I’m not like you and your club. When I have sex, I like it to stay between you and me.”His gaze intensified and he dipped his face closer to her. “If there were a chance you’d lose me tomorrow, would you not want to make love to me today?”The way his voice grew huskier and more singsong had her vagina dancing. She couldn’t figure out if he were sweetness poised as a Norwegian biker or giving her a line of bullshit.“That’s not funny.” She pushed against him to get off his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, not letting her go.“I’m not laughing.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “No one knows what will happen. Not you. Not me. I would show you how I felt, regardless if someone was watching because it’s important that you know how I feel.”The sentiment was endearing, but it brought her back to the worry that what happened within his club was more dangerous than he let on. Slag Motorcycle Club had more going on than running the bar.“Where did you go today?” she asked, dropping the subject of sex.He sighed and leaned back, gathering her hands in his. “I went up into Washington and visited another Motorcycle Club.”“Why?”“Why not?” He brought her hands to his lips. “Clubs gather, work together, and keep in touch. Much like friends do in your life.”She studied him. It was a cookie cutter answer, and she needed to know more.

Author Bio:
Debra Kayn is published by Grand Central Publishing, Simon & Schuster Publishing, Carina Press - Harlequin Enterprises Limited, and repped by agent, Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary Management. She has over fifty contemporary novels available worldwide where heroes and heroines come from the most unlikely characters.She lives with her family in the Bitterroot Mountains of beautiful North Idaho where she enjoys the outdoors, the four seasons, and small-town living.

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