Heather Gunter's Blog, page 35
March 5, 2014
Cover Reveal: Lost in Me by Lexi Ryan
A new series from New York Times Bestselling Author Lexi Ryan, Here and Now is a sexy New Adult Contemporary Romance series that fans are sure to love.
Covers designed by Okay Creations
Torn between the man she's always wanted and the man she can't remember...and yet can't let go.
LOST IN ME(Book #1)
Releasing April 7, 2014
The last thing I remember is having drinks at Brady’s and trying to avoid eye-contact with my life-long crush—the gorgeous, unattainable Maximilian Hallowell. They tell me that was a year ago, but I have no memories of anything since then. What I do have is this ring on my finger that Max says he gave me, and this much-thinner body I’ve dreamed of most of my life. Aside from a case of retrograde amnesia, everything seems almost…perfect.But the deeper I immerse myself into this new world of mine—planning a wedding to a man I don’t remember dating, attempting to run a business I don’t remember starting—the clearer it becomes that nothing is as it seems. Do I have the life I’ve always wanted or is it a facade propped up by secrets I don’t even know I have?
I need answers before I marry Max, and the only person who seems to have them is the angry, tatted, sexy-as-sin rocker Nate Crane. And Nate wants me for himself.
FALL TO YOU (Here and Now, #2)
Expected release June 2014
ALL FOR THIS (Here and Now, #3)
Expected release August 2014
Once a college English professor, I now write full time. I live in rural Indiana, where, when I’m not writing, I get to hang out with my husband and two kids–a six-year-old boy and a two-year-old hellion, er, girl. Not surprisingly, reading and writing remain my favorite activities, though both come in bits and pieces these days, not the big hunks of time I enjoyed before I had children. When I’m feeling virtuous, I like to go running (I use that word liberally. I’m really, really slow) or do yoga. Don’t worry, I’m always careful to balance out such activities with a hearty serving of ice cream or a chocolate martini.Website | Facebook | Twitter
Cover Reveal Author Giveaway
(1) $25 USD Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Card - International
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March 4, 2014
Release Blitz: Best Kind of Broken by Chelsea Fine
We're extremely excited to participate in spreading the word about Chelsea Fine's BEST KIND OF BROKEN! BEST KIND OF BROKEN is a New Adult contemporary romance and is the first book in the Finding Fate Series. It's available TODAY so after reading these hot teasers and entering the giveaway be sure to go out and grab your copy!!
SOMETIMES MOVING ON MEANS MOVING IN
Pixie Marshall wishes every day she could turn back time and fix the past. But she can't. And the damage is done. She's hoping that a summer of free room and board working with her aunt at the Willow Inn will help her forget. Except there's a problem: the resident handyman is none other than Levi Andrews. The handsome quarterback was once her friend-and maybe more--until everything changed in a life-shattering instant. She was hoping to avoid him, possibly forever. Now he's right down the hall and stirring up feelings Pixie thought she'd long buried . . .
Levi can't believe he's living with the one person who holds all his painful memories. More than anything he wants to make things right, but a simple "sorry" won't suffice--not when the tragedy that scarred them was his fault. Levi knows Pixie's better off without him, but every part of him screams to touch her, protect her, wrap her in his arms, and kiss away the pain. Yet even though she's so close, Pixie's heart seems more unreachable than ever. Seeing those stunning green eyes again has made one thing perfectly clear--he can't live without her.
"By turns humorous and heartbreaking, Best Kind Of Broken has become one of my favorites!"
--- CORA CARMACK, New York Times bestselling author of Losing It.
"You'll fall for Pixie and Levi, just like I did!"
--- JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT (J. Lynn), #1 New York Times bestselling author of Wait For You
"Tangled with friendship, history and heartbreak--not to mention a huge dose of humor--Chelsea Fine's New Adult novel is not to be missed! Beyond an incredibly HOT read, Pixie and Levi's longing for each other will have you rooting for them till the very end."
--- JAY CROWNOVER, New York Times bestselling author of Rule
"This book destroyed me. Tore me into little tiny pieces. But somehow with lots of laughs and some very steamy times, Chelsea put me back together again! Chelsea Fine's style is witty, visceral and fresh. All I wanted to do was crawl inside this book and live with the characters. And now all I want is MORE."
--- CHELSEA M. CAMERON, New York Times bestselling author of My Favorite Mistake
"Sandwiched between laugh out loud moments and some serious heat, Best Kind of Broken is an unforgettable story of loss and forgiveness that will leave your heart aching."
--- LISA DESROCHERS, USA Today bestselling author of A Little Too Far
Levi is so distracting. His arms are all raised, and his shoulders are all broad, and he’s fixing crap, and it’s just…it’s just…annoying.With a huff and a puff and some choice words in my head, I grab my sliced bell peppers and force my feet to the stove. I throw the vegetables into a frying pan, grab a wooden spoon, and ignore Levi’s close proximity.
My body hums.
I ignore that too.
I steal a glance in his direction and watch as the corded muscles in his forearm flex as he unscrews something on the fire alarm box. Why does he have so many muscles in his forearm? That can’t be healthy.
I drop my eyes to the frying pan and focus on bell peppers, because bell peppers are interesting and they don’t have backs the size of Alaska or copious amounts of forearm muscles.
The forearm muscles that I’m not thinking about lightly brush my shoulder and the humming inside my body knots together and zips around like a bumblebee on crack.
I casually turn down the heat on the stove, like that’s the reason I’m suddenly a human vibrator, and go back to stirring. Levi goes back to screwing.
Bell peppers.
I’m thinking about bell peppers.
He brushes against me again, except this time his forearm grazes my breast and my body immediately goes wild like I’m some love-starved teenager and the humming dives low in my belly and the stove gets hotter and my breaths get shallow and suddenly bell peppers are the sexiest vegetable on earth.
From the corner of my eye, I catch his Adam’s apple bobbing with a nervous swallow, which can only mean one thing. The boob brush was an accident.
Well crap.
If he had been trying to cop a feel with his Hulkish forearm, I could have responded with some kind of snarky “you’re a pervert” comment. But it wasn’t on purpose and somehow that makes it sexier and now the cracked-out bumblebee is buzzing in my nether regions and my hands are starting to tingle and why the HELL is this stove so hot?
I turn the burner down another notch and take a slow, deep breath. I have a boyfriend. A great boyfriend. So this sexual frustration I feel around Levi is nothing to get my bee-loving panties in a bunch about. I just need to calm down.
Levi lowers his arm for a moment, his eyes still on the alarm, and stretches his neck.
Ah, the neck stretch. The universal sign of stress. Well at least I’m not alone in my frustration. My hot, distracting, pants-are-so-inconvenient frustration.
Wait, what?
Who said anything about pants? I am NOT thinking about pants—or lack thereof. Damn you, bell peppers!
I toss the wooden spoon to the side and move back to the counter where the threat of being turned on by a handyman or, you know, a sautéed vegetable is much less severe.
I bite back a groan. What was I thinking, living under the same roof as Levi? There’s no way I’ll survive the summer.
Hell, I can barely survive breakfast.
Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.
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March 3, 2014
Release Day Blitz: Sweet Little Thing (Sweet Thing #1.5) by Renee Carlino
So, so, so excited for the release of Sweet Little Thing and it was everything I hoped it would be. Such a fabulous conclusion to Will and Mia's story - you won't want to miss it!!
Read on for an Excerpt, my review and be sure to enter the giveaway where you can win a signed copy of Sweet Little Thing and a $20 Amazon Gift Card!!
Title: Sweet Little Thing (Sweet Thing #1.5) Author: Renee CarlinoGenre: New Adult RomanceRelease Date: March 4, 2014
Ever wonder what happened after the final pages of Sweet Thing? From his candid and sometimes neurotic point of view, Will tells all in this musical and sexy follow-up novella to Renée Carlino’s USA Today Bestseller.
Life is pure bliss for Mia and Will. They have a puppy, a loft in Brooklyn, and a new music studio on the rise. It seems things couldn’t get any better for this talented couple when life decides to throw them a sweet little curve ball.
They quickly learn that things don't always go according to plan. Sometimes happily ever after is one giant leap of faith away. With the help of good music, good friends, and one eccentric old lady, they overcome a few of life’s little bumps to find the sweetest thing of all.
Watch this duo grow in more ways than one in SWEET Little THING.
Copyright © 2014 by Renée Carlino
“I have a complaint.” I said.
She climbed up next to me and cuddled her face up to my bare chest, then she used her index finger to trace a line down my happy trail to the belt on my jeans.
“What sort of complaint, Wilbur?” Ah, Mia’s sexy voice.
I reached down and ran my hand up her thigh. “You should not wear these pants around that horny little High School Musical kid.”
She popped up and looked me straight in the face. “He totally looks like Zac Efron, huh?”
“Mia, he practically shot off a load just staring at your ass.”
She punched me in the chest. “That is vulgar, Will Ryan.”
“It’s true. You can’t dress like that around him.” I tackled her back down on the bed and hovered over her.
“I thought you liked these pants.”
“I do.” I began kissing my way down her body. I lifted her shirt and kissed the swell of each breast before moving down the center of her body. “But you know what I like better than you in these pants?”
“Me out of these pants?”
“Am I that predictable?” I said as I quickly peeled them off her body.
“Yes.” She sighed.
I sat back on my heels. “You’re beautiful.”
Holding her leg from behind her knee, I kissed my way up the inside, from her calf to her thigh and all the way up to her panties. I peeled the lace from her hips with my teeth and then down to her ankles as slowly as possible. She lay there naked from the waist down, watching me gaze at her, hungry for her. Her skin was pure white and it contrasted so strikingly against her dark eyes and hair. She was an authentic beauty. I leaned over her body, putting my weight on my hands, which were placed on each side of her head. Her eyes were searching mine. She whimpered and then tried to lift her face up to kiss me.
I drew my head back. “Uh uh, I don’t think so.” I nuzzled my nose into her neck and trailed kisses to her ear. I whispered, “Stay just like this. Don’t go anywhere.” I planted a swift kiss on her lips and jumped off the bed. “I’m goin’ to play B-ball with Tyler. Be back in a few.”
As I left the room, I glanced over my shoulder and saw her lying there completely still, her mouth open in shock. I got halfway down the hallway before she finally yelled, “Asshole!”
I bent in the hallway and patted June’s head. She rolled over and then got back on her feet and trotted off toward our bedroom.
Before walking out the door, I called back to Mia, “Who’s predictable now, sweet thing?”
As a huge fan of Sweet Thing I had been waiting, waiting for the release of
Sweet Little Thing
and jumped straight to it as soon as I received my copy. I fell in love with Will when I read Sweet Thing. He was sensitive, creative, considerate, sexy ... well you get the picture and I was thrilled at how quickly I reconnected with him in this book. Where Sweet Thing was more so Mia's story Sweet Little Thing is more Will's. It is primarily told from Will's perspective and provides further insight to his character - which I just loved.Carlino has an absolutely gorgeous writing style. Her characters have depth and substance and I loved the interactions between them. Where it took some time for Will and Mia to finally come together in Sweet Thing their connection is undeniable in Sweet Little Thing. They are so in tune with each other, it is almost as if they are an extension of one another.
"We were always so in sync that it felt like we'd been together for centuries, but in a good way. I was convinced we had lived twenty thousand lives, and in each one, we had found each other, like two tiny magnets in a drawer the size of the universe."Where Mia had frustrated me significantly before, she has absolutely found herself and it shines through in Sweet Little Thing. There is a confidence about her, a comfort in her relationship and she and Will rise to every challenge they are presented with ... together.
You absolutely must read Sweet Thing before you read Sweet Little Thing - and if you've read Sweet Thing I don't think you'll need any encouragement to pick up this next installment in the story. It provides a wonderful extension of the original book and I loved the conclusion to Will and Mia's story.
5 out of 5 stars
Renee’s first friends were the imaginary kind and even though her characters haven’t gone away, thankfully the delusions have. She admits she’s a wildly hopeless romantic and she blames 80’s movies staring Molly Ringwald for that. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach with her boys or working on the next book, she likes to spend her time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate.
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Mia Kelly thinks she has it all figured out. She’s an Ivy League graduate, a classically trained pianist, and the beloved daughter of a sensible mother and offbeat father. Yet Mia has been stalling since graduation, torn between putting her business degree to use and exploring music, her true love. When her father unexpectedly dies, she decides to pick up the threads of his life while she figures out her own. Uprooting herself from Ann Arbor to New York City, Mia takes over her father’s café, a treasured neighborhood institution that plays host to undiscovered musicians and artists. She’s denied herself the thrilling and unpredictable life of a musician, but a chance encounter with Will, a sweet, gorgeous, and charming guitarist, offers her a glimpse of what could be. When Will becomes her friend and then her roommate, she does everything in her power to suppress her passions—for him, for music—but her father’s legacy slowly opens her heart to the possibility of something more. A “heartbreaking and romantic” debut (Aestas Book Blog), Sweet Thing explores the intensity and complexities of first love and self-discovery.
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Spotlight: Book Two in the French Kiss Series by Gwen Jones
A little while ago I was fortunate enough to read Wanted: Wife by Gwen Jones. It was a fabulous debut - a perfect combination of wit, humor and romance with a dash of sexiness thrown in for good measure.
Book Two in the series - tentatively titled My Dear Captain is set for release by Avon Impulse in September. Andy Devine’s half-brother, Marcel Mercier, is a billionaire playboy who unwittingly falls for the only female captain in his shipping fleet - and you can have a sneak peek at the first chapter here
In case you missed my review of Wanted: Wife I've re-posted below, along with details of the book and Gwen.
Title: Wanted: WifeAuthor: Gwen JonesGenre: Contemporary RomancePublication Date: June 4, 2013
Andy Devine is advertising for a wife on a utility pole, and interviewing him is the last thing TV reporter Julie Knott needs. Especially after her cheating fiancé just tweeted their disengagement. Now she has got to choose: get the story—or become it?
Wanted: Wife
Landed, Financially Secure 40-Yr-Old Male
* Handsome, but with old-school communication skills and a secret past *
Seeks Healthy, Athletic Female
* Preferably a pretty reporter with a messy love life who has never spent a day in the woods *For Marriage and Family* What could possibly go wrong? *If you love the humor and romance of Rachel Gibson and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, don't miss the fabulous debut of Gwen Jones
Wanted: Wife
is a quirky story about finding love in the most unexpected places - a fabulous debut book from Gwen Jones.
Julie Knott is a TV reporter on the upward climb of her career. Engaged, viewer popularity growing and a wedding to end all weddings just two weeks away – what more could you ask for?? How about your fiancé NOT leaving you for his ex and tweeting the ‘disengagement’ before he’s even finished the conversation with you?? That’s exactly what happens to Julie and before she knows it she’s single, homeless and seemingly all out of options.That is, until she heads out to cover the story of Andy Devine, who’s advertised to find himself a wife by posting flyers on utility poles. She arrives in Iron Bog with camera man Denny in tow to interview Andy and film the wife interview process. What she is not prepared for is “the most stunning man I’d ever laid eyes on” who also happens to be incredibly smooth, intelligent, and absolutely set on having Julie as his wife.
The two enter into a rather unconventional relationship and the story follows what transpires between them. Both Julie and Andy aren’t being completely honest with each other from the outset. Told from Julie’s point of view we know what her angle is and whether you agree or disagree with it, you at least have some understanding of why she’s agreed to enter into the relationship with Andy. When it comes to Andy, there’s this mystery surrounding him. He seems almost too good to be true at times but I did wonder just what it was that was going to come to light and bring everything unstuck.
The two have an undeniable chemistry and some of the banter and exchanges between them were gorgeous:
4 out 5 stars
Gwen Jones, after spending years writing several unpublishable novels, decided to learn what she was doing wrong or give it all up. So after earning an MFA in Creative Writing from Western Connecticut State University, she’s now so good they even allow her to teach there. An unabashed born-and-bred native of Southern New Jersey and the Jersey Shore, she lives with her husband, Frank, and the absolute cutest cat in the world, Gracie.
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Book Two in the series - tentatively titled My Dear Captain is set for release by Avon Impulse in September. Andy Devine’s half-brother, Marcel Mercier, is a billionaire playboy who unwittingly falls for the only female captain in his shipping fleet - and you can have a sneak peek at the first chapter here
In case you missed my review of Wanted: Wife I've re-posted below, along with details of the book and Gwen.
Title: Wanted: WifeAuthor: Gwen JonesGenre: Contemporary RomancePublication Date: June 4, 2013
Andy Devine is advertising for a wife on a utility pole, and interviewing him is the last thing TV reporter Julie Knott needs. Especially after her cheating fiancé just tweeted their disengagement. Now she has got to choose: get the story—or become it?Wanted: Wife
Landed, Financially Secure 40-Yr-Old Male
* Handsome, but with old-school communication skills and a secret past *
Seeks Healthy, Athletic Female
* Preferably a pretty reporter with a messy love life who has never spent a day in the woods *For Marriage and Family* What could possibly go wrong? *If you love the humor and romance of Rachel Gibson and Susan Elizabeth Phillips, don't miss the fabulous debut of Gwen Jones
Wanted: Wife
is a quirky story about finding love in the most unexpected places - a fabulous debut book from Gwen Jones.Julie Knott is a TV reporter on the upward climb of her career. Engaged, viewer popularity growing and a wedding to end all weddings just two weeks away – what more could you ask for?? How about your fiancé NOT leaving you for his ex and tweeting the ‘disengagement’ before he’s even finished the conversation with you?? That’s exactly what happens to Julie and before she knows it she’s single, homeless and seemingly all out of options.That is, until she heads out to cover the story of Andy Devine, who’s advertised to find himself a wife by posting flyers on utility poles. She arrives in Iron Bog with camera man Denny in tow to interview Andy and film the wife interview process. What she is not prepared for is “the most stunning man I’d ever laid eyes on” who also happens to be incredibly smooth, intelligent, and absolutely set on having Julie as his wife.
The two enter into a rather unconventional relationship and the story follows what transpires between them. Both Julie and Andy aren’t being completely honest with each other from the outset. Told from Julie’s point of view we know what her angle is and whether you agree or disagree with it, you at least have some understanding of why she’s agreed to enter into the relationship with Andy. When it comes to Andy, there’s this mystery surrounding him. He seems almost too good to be true at times but I did wonder just what it was that was going to come to light and bring everything unstuck.
The two have an undeniable chemistry and some of the banter and exchanges between them were gorgeous:
”So . . . I guess we can pretty much agree we’re attracted to each other.”For a “wordly” television reporter, Julie is incredibly naive when it comes to relationships. Mind you, not having had great success with them in the past, and starting off in such an unorthodox fashion as she does with Andy, it’s not really that surprising. There was lots of lessons for Julie throughout the story and she really did become a different person:
God, he was so cute. “You can say that.”
He leaned back against a post, taking me with him. “Even though we may have nothing in common?”
I pushed up on my toes, brushing my lips against his. “Seems like we’ll have a lot of time to find out. We’ve already taken a big leap.”
“By getting married”, he concluded, kissing the corner of my mouth.
“By falling seriously in lust,” I said, kissing him right back.
Where was Andy? But then, where was I? And where in hell was I going? If this was a precursor to what my life would be like later on, then I’d better get used to it. Damn reckless of me not to see what lay down the road, naive of me to think it would be easy. And shame on me for thinking I could come out the other end the same.I really enjoyed Wanted: Wife . It was funny, it was sexy, it was romantic and is definitely worth picking up.
4 out 5 stars
Gwen Jones, after spending years writing several unpublishable novels, decided to learn what she was doing wrong or give it all up. So after earning an MFA in Creative Writing from Western Connecticut State University, she’s now so good they even allow her to teach there. An unabashed born-and-bred native of Southern New Jersey and the Jersey Shore, she lives with her husband, Frank, and the absolute cutest cat in the world, Gracie.
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Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CABarnes & Noble | KoboMarch 2, 2014
Spotlight Promotion: The Echoes of Love by Hannah Fielding
The Echoes of Love by Hannah Fielding is a touching love story that unfolds at the turn of the new millennium, set in the romantic and mysterious city of Venice and the beautiful landscape of Tuscany. It is a tale of a lost love and betrayal, unbleached passion and learning to love again – and a terrible truth that will change the lives of two strangers forever.
Title: The Echoes of LoveAuthor: Hannah FieldingPublisher: London Wall (6 December 2013)
Seduction, passion and the chance for new love.
A terrible truth that will change two lives forever.
Venetia Aston-Montagu has escaped to Italy’s most captivating city to work in her godmother’s architectural practice, putting a lost love behind her. For the past ten years she has built a fortress around her heart, only to find the walls tumbling down one night of the carnival when she is rescued from masked assailants by an enigmatic stranger, Paolo Barone.
Drawn to the powerfully seductive Paolo, despite warnings of his Don Juan reputation and rumours that he keeps a mistress, Venetia can’t help being caught up in the smouldering passion that ignites between them.
When she finds herself assigned to a project at his magnificent home deep in the Tuscan countryside, Venetia must not only contend with a beautiful young rival, but also come face to face with the dark shadows of Paolo’s past that threaten to come between them.
Can Venetia trust that love will triumph, even over her own demons? Or will Paolo’s carefully guarded, devastating secret tear them apart forever?
The clock struck midnight just as Venetia went past the grand eighteenth-century mirror hanging over the mantelpiece in the hall. Instinctively she looked into it and her heart skipped a beat. In the firelight she noticed that he was there again, an almost illusory figure, leaning against the wall at the far end of the shadowy room, steady eyes intense, watching her from behind his black mask. An illusory figure indeed, because when Venetia turned around he was gone.
Venetia shivered. Nanny Horren’s voice resounded through her head, reminding her of the strange Celtic superstitions that the Scottish governess used to tell her. One in particular came to mind. ‘Turn off the light and look into the mirror by firelight at midnight on Shrove Tuesday,’ the old woman would whisper to the impressionable and imaginative teenage Venetia, ‘and if you see a face reflected behind your own, it’ll be the face of the love of your life, the man you will marry someday.’
Was this what had just happened to Venetia? Was this stranger the love of her life?
Rubbish, she remonstrated, laughing uneasily into her own eyes, you’re mad! Haven’t you learnt your lesson? Venetia had indulged in such fantasies several years ago and had only managed to get hurt. Now, she knew better. Still, she did not move away. Venetia leant closer to the mirror that reflected her pale, startled face in the flickering light, as tremors of the warm feelings of yester love suddenly flooded her being. For a few moments she seemed to lose all sense of where she was and felt as though she stood inside a globe, watching the wheel of time turning back ten years.
Gareth Jordan Carter. ‘Judd’. It was a diminutive of Jordan, chosen by Venetia who hated the name Gareth and didn’t care much for the name Jordan either. Judd had been her first love, and as far as Venetia was concerned, her last. She had been young and innocent then; only eighteen. Today, at twenty-eight, she liked to think she was a woman of the world, who would not allow herself to be trapped by the treacherous illusions of passion, however appealing they might seem. She had paid a high price for her naivety and impetuosity.
Venetia tried to shake herself clear of those haunting phantasms and her thoughts ambled back to the masked stranger – well, almost a stranger.
Their brief encounter had occurred the evening of the first night of Il Carnevale di Venezia, ten days before Shrove Tuesday …
***
It was nearly seven-thirty and the shops were beginning to shut down for the night. The wind that had blown all day had dropped, and a slight haze veiled the trees, as if gauze had been hung in front of everything that was more than a few feet away. The damp air was soaked with silence.
Venetia tightened the belt of her coat around her slim waist and lifted the fur collar snugly about her neck. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the pavement as she hurried towards the Rialto Bridge from Piazza San Marco, a solitary figure in an almost deserted street. She was on her way to catch thevaporetto water bus, which would drop her off at Palazzo Mendicoli where she had an apartment. A few huddled pedestrians could be seen on the opposite pavement, and there was not much traffic on the great inky stretch of water of the Grand Canal.
Suddenly Venetia saw two figures spring out in front of her from the surrounding darkness. They were enveloped in carnevale cloaks, with no visible faces, only a spooky blackness where they should have been. A hand materialised from under the all-encompassing wrap of one of the sinister creatures and grabbed at her bag. Chilled to the bone, Venetia tried to scream but the sound froze in her throat. Struggling, she hung onto the leather pouch which was looped over her shoulder and across her front as she tried to lift her knee to kick him in the groin, but her aggressors were prepared. An arm was thrown around her throat from the back and the second figure produced a knife.
Just as he was going to slash at the strap of her bag, an imposing silhouette emerged from nowhere and with startling speed its owner swung at Venetia’s attacker with his fist, knocking him off balance. With a grunt of pain the man fell backwards, tripping over his accomplice who gave a curse, and they both tumbled to the ground. Then, picking themselves up in a flash, they took to their heels and fled into the hazy gloom.
‘Va tutto bene, are you alright?’ The stranger’s light baritone voice broke through Venetia’s disoriented awareness, and he looked down anxiously into her large amber eyes.
‘Yes, yes, I think so,’ she panted, her hands going to her throat.
‘Are you hurt at all?’
‘No, no just a little shaken, thank you.’
‘You’re shivering. You’ve had a bad shock and you need a warm drink. Come. There’s a caffeteria that serves the best hot chocolate in Venice, just a few steps from here. It’ll do you good.’ Without waiting for a response, he took Venetia’s arm and led the way down the narrow street.
Venetia’s knees felt like jelly and her teeth were chattering. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, still trying to catch her breath, her heart pounding, and let herself be guided by her tall, broad-shouldered rescuer, who seemed to have taken the situation into his hands.
Thus does Fate cast her thunderbolts into our lives, letting them fall with a feather-like touch, dulling our senses to the storm they would cause should we realise their devastating powers.
They sat in silence at a table in a far-off corner of the crowded caffeteria. There was too much noise to talk and Venetia was exhausted, so she concentrated on appraising the man sitting opposite her as she listened to the music playing: Mina’s nostalgic 1960 love song, ‘Il Cielo in una Stanza’, the unashamedly romantic hit that was so Italian, and which was therefore still frequently played as a classic all over the country.
Venetia’s guardian angel looked more like Lucifer than a celestial being, with his tempestuous blue eyes, curiously bright against the warm tan of his skin, which slanted a fraction upwards under heavy, dark brows when he smiled. They were staring intently at her now with an emotion which puzzled her, and for a few seconds she found herself helplessly staring back into them. It was like gazing into shimmering water.
Strong, masculine features graced his nut-brown face beneath a thick crop of raven-black hair, sleek and shining, swept back from a wide forehead. He wasn’t good-looking in the classical sense, his face was too craggy for that immediate impact, but he was a striking man who emanated controlled power, someone used to making decisions who would not be swayed by any argument or sentiment; a hard man. Still, his steeliness was tempered by the enigmatic curve that lifted the corners of his generous mouth into a promise of laughter; this, coupled with the deep cleft in the centre of his chin, gave him a roguish expression that Venetia found appealing.
The waiter brought over a cup of hot chocolate, a double espresso and a plate of biscotti which he said were offered con i complimenti della casa. Her rescuer was obviously a regular customer.
Venetia took a few sips of the thick, warm brew. She felt herself revive as it trickled down her throat, becoming a warm glow in her stomach which reflected on her cheeks.
The stranger smiled at her. ‘Feeling better?’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, you’ve been so very kind.’
His smile broadened. ‘You are welcome, signorina. It is always a pleasure to come to the rescue of a beautiful lady. My name is Paolo Barone, at your service.’
Venetia had been working in Italy for over three years as an architect cum interior designer in her godmother’s architect firm, and was used to the gallant ways and the charm of Italian men. She found their smooth repartee refreshing, and sometimes even amusing, but never took them too seriously. Paolo Barone was different. Maybe it was because she was in shock and felt vulnerable, but nevertheless her heart warmed to this man, who, although not that young, was still in his prime – middle to late thirties perhaps – and she relaxed. Still, even though the circumstances in this case were unusual, Venetia was not used to accepting invitations from strangers, so she deliberately made no conversation; and to her surprise neither did he.
As she raised the warm cup to her lips with both hands, she was aware of him looking at her directly with unabashed interest. Was he trying to decipher her, she wondered? Relieved that the hot drink’s effect on her cheeks was hiding the slight confusion she felt beneath, she sipped a little too quickly and cooled her lip with the tip of her tongue. Then realising what she had done, she glanced up to see his expression deepen into something else, which made her instantly lower her eyes.
When she had finished her chocolate, Paolo smiled at her. ‘Andiamo? Shall we go?’ he asked, cocking his head to one side and looking at Venetia with curiosity.
Sparkling hazel eyes flecked with gold smiled back at him through long black lashes that somehow did not belong with her chestnut hair. ‘Yes. Thank you for the hot chocolate. It is really the best chocolate I’ve had in Venice.’
He helped her with her coat, lifting her glorious long locks over the fur collar. At five foot seven inches, Venetia was tall but as he faced her and began buttoning the garment himself, she noticed again how he towered over her. His hands were strong and masculine; she had a curious sensation of warm familiarity, as though he had performed this act with her several times before. Yet mingled with that feeling came one of embarrassment; his touch seemed a rather intimate gesture instead of the impersonal indifference of a stranger, and she drew away with a little nervous laugh.
‘Thank you, that won’t be necessary.’
He held her gaze intently for a moment, as if surprised at what she had said, and she looked down again, for some reason unable to meet those midnight-blue eyes and their burning intensity. Then he smiled and held the door open.
‘By the way, I don’t know your name,’ Paolo said as they stepped out into the misty night and began walking towards the Grand Canal.
‘Venetia. Venetia Aston-Montagu.’
He quirked a black eyebrow. ‘A very romantic name, Venetia, like our beautiful city. But you’re not Italian? You speak Italian like a native.’
She laughed. ‘Thank you for the compliment. No, I’m actually English, but I was named by my godmother, who is Venetian. She was my mother’s best friend and she insisted I learn Italian.’
‘So you’re on holiday here?’
‘No, I live here.’
‘Nearby?’
‘No, in the Dorsoduro district. I need to catch the vaporetto, as the entrance to the building where I live is on the Grand Canal.’
‘My launch is moored across the street. Dorsoduro is on my way. It would be a pleasure for me to drop you off.’
‘No, thank you. You’ve already been very kind.’
‘It’s late and snow has been forecast for tonight. The vaporetto is bound to be almost empty. I wouldn’t want you to come to any harm, signorina. I will give you a lift.’ He spoke quietly with an air of command, his hand coming up to her elbow, but she avoided it hastily.
It was very tempting to accept, but Venetia would not let herself. This stranger was a little too attentive, she thought, and though she had been grateful for his kind invitation to a hot chocolate when she was in distress, and could still recall the feel of his hands buttoning up her coat, she was not in the habit of being picked up by men.
‘No really, thank you very much. I’m used to travelling by vaporetto. It’s quite safe.’
Paolo did not insist, and for the rest of the way they walked in silence through the narrow, tortuous alleys, Venetia conscious of his nearness in every fibre of her being.
It was bitterly cold. The wind was whistling and a bank of threatening cloud hung over Venice like a white cloak. As they arrived at the waterbus stop, a few snowflakes started to come down. A couple of gondolas, their great steel blades looming dangerously out of the soft velvety mist, glided by swiftly over the gently lapping waters.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind? It looks as though there’ll be a blizzard and the vaporetto may be delayed.’ He looked at her with a polite, but guarded smile and she felt a momentary pang of regret at her determination to escape him.
Paolo’s pride was spared a new refusal as they heard the croaky purr of thevaporetto announcing its lazy approach.
‘Here comes my bus,’ Venetia said cheerfully. ‘I’ll be home in no time.’
The boat appeared and presently drew up at the small station, bumping the landing stage as it did so.
‘Thanks again for all your help, signore,’ she went on, smiling as she held out her small, perfectly manicured hand to say goodbye. The young man took it in his own, which was large and warm, and held it a trifle longer than would be usual. Venetia stood there with waves of heat passing over her, her senses suddenly heightened at this contact. She abruptly withdrew her hand.
His blue hawk eyes gazed down at her, intent though unfathomable, and he paused uncertainly. ‘Will you dine with me tomorrow night?’ he uttered in a low voice.
It would be exciting to dine with Paolo, she thought, but you must run from him, urged the echo of an insistent voice within her; this man has the power to hurt you.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she replied stiffly. ‘I’m afraid I’m busy.’
‘That’s a pity.’ He sounded as if he meant it, but did not insist, leaving her feeling curiously disappointed. He held out his hand again, silently, and she took it, also without a word. There was nothing lax or vague in his firm grasp. Like many people, Venetia was swift to gauge character by the quality of a handclasp and had known many apparently vigorous men whose fingers were like limp fish. Once more, she was aware that Paolo’s large, sensitive hands held a strength and vitality that stirred her deeply.
She hurried onto the vaporetto, suddenly eager to flee, but as the waterbus pulled away from the quay, she watched him go up the stairs and disappear into the snow-white night with a strange sinking of the heart, wondering if she would ever see him again.
When I was a child, my governess told me fairy stories. These tales, full of superstition and magic, were my first inspiration, and the warmth and colour they still evoke greatly influence my writing. They were also the experience through which I learned to become a storyteller, as my governess and I had an agreement – whenever she told me a story, I would have to tell her one in return.
As a novelist, I am obsessed by vivid colours, lush landscapes and tales of exotic customs in far-off lands. I can trace much of this back to a dear and long-departed friend of my family Mr Chiumbo Wangai, who fascinated me as a teenager with stories of the witch-doctors and magical ceremonies in his native Kenya. When I visited the country myself, I soon fell in love with its beautiful countryside and unforgettable sunsets.
Though I have been telling stories since I was a child, it was only after my children had grown up and my husband and I had turned our family business into a success that I felt I could devote myself to writing full time. After I dug out the various ideas and sketches I had jotted down over the years, I realised how profoundly my travels throughout Europe, the Mediterranean and particularly Africa had burned themselves into my memory. I felt driven to turn them into a novel.
The mystery, magic, heat and passion of Kenya’s landscapes inspired me to use them as the setting for my first novel. Burning Embers, a passionate love story set against the backdrop of the country in 1970. My later travels through Europe provided rich fodder for more stories, including my new novel, The Echoes of Love, set in Venice and Tuscany, Italy.
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Title: The Echoes of LoveAuthor: Hannah FieldingPublisher: London Wall (6 December 2013)
Seduction, passion and the chance for new love.
A terrible truth that will change two lives forever.Venetia Aston-Montagu has escaped to Italy’s most captivating city to work in her godmother’s architectural practice, putting a lost love behind her. For the past ten years she has built a fortress around her heart, only to find the walls tumbling down one night of the carnival when she is rescued from masked assailants by an enigmatic stranger, Paolo Barone.
Drawn to the powerfully seductive Paolo, despite warnings of his Don Juan reputation and rumours that he keeps a mistress, Venetia can’t help being caught up in the smouldering passion that ignites between them.
When she finds herself assigned to a project at his magnificent home deep in the Tuscan countryside, Venetia must not only contend with a beautiful young rival, but also come face to face with the dark shadows of Paolo’s past that threaten to come between them.
Can Venetia trust that love will triumph, even over her own demons? Or will Paolo’s carefully guarded, devastating secret tear them apart forever?
The clock struck midnight just as Venetia went past the grand eighteenth-century mirror hanging over the mantelpiece in the hall. Instinctively she looked into it and her heart skipped a beat. In the firelight she noticed that he was there again, an almost illusory figure, leaning against the wall at the far end of the shadowy room, steady eyes intense, watching her from behind his black mask. An illusory figure indeed, because when Venetia turned around he was gone.Venetia shivered. Nanny Horren’s voice resounded through her head, reminding her of the strange Celtic superstitions that the Scottish governess used to tell her. One in particular came to mind. ‘Turn off the light and look into the mirror by firelight at midnight on Shrove Tuesday,’ the old woman would whisper to the impressionable and imaginative teenage Venetia, ‘and if you see a face reflected behind your own, it’ll be the face of the love of your life, the man you will marry someday.’
Was this what had just happened to Venetia? Was this stranger the love of her life?
Rubbish, she remonstrated, laughing uneasily into her own eyes, you’re mad! Haven’t you learnt your lesson? Venetia had indulged in such fantasies several years ago and had only managed to get hurt. Now, she knew better. Still, she did not move away. Venetia leant closer to the mirror that reflected her pale, startled face in the flickering light, as tremors of the warm feelings of yester love suddenly flooded her being. For a few moments she seemed to lose all sense of where she was and felt as though she stood inside a globe, watching the wheel of time turning back ten years.
Gareth Jordan Carter. ‘Judd’. It was a diminutive of Jordan, chosen by Venetia who hated the name Gareth and didn’t care much for the name Jordan either. Judd had been her first love, and as far as Venetia was concerned, her last. She had been young and innocent then; only eighteen. Today, at twenty-eight, she liked to think she was a woman of the world, who would not allow herself to be trapped by the treacherous illusions of passion, however appealing they might seem. She had paid a high price for her naivety and impetuosity.
Venetia tried to shake herself clear of those haunting phantasms and her thoughts ambled back to the masked stranger – well, almost a stranger.
Their brief encounter had occurred the evening of the first night of Il Carnevale di Venezia, ten days before Shrove Tuesday …
***
It was nearly seven-thirty and the shops were beginning to shut down for the night. The wind that had blown all day had dropped, and a slight haze veiled the trees, as if gauze had been hung in front of everything that was more than a few feet away. The damp air was soaked with silence.
Venetia tightened the belt of her coat around her slim waist and lifted the fur collar snugly about her neck. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the pavement as she hurried towards the Rialto Bridge from Piazza San Marco, a solitary figure in an almost deserted street. She was on her way to catch thevaporetto water bus, which would drop her off at Palazzo Mendicoli where she had an apartment. A few huddled pedestrians could be seen on the opposite pavement, and there was not much traffic on the great inky stretch of water of the Grand Canal.
Suddenly Venetia saw two figures spring out in front of her from the surrounding darkness. They were enveloped in carnevale cloaks, with no visible faces, only a spooky blackness where they should have been. A hand materialised from under the all-encompassing wrap of one of the sinister creatures and grabbed at her bag. Chilled to the bone, Venetia tried to scream but the sound froze in her throat. Struggling, she hung onto the leather pouch which was looped over her shoulder and across her front as she tried to lift her knee to kick him in the groin, but her aggressors were prepared. An arm was thrown around her throat from the back and the second figure produced a knife.
Just as he was going to slash at the strap of her bag, an imposing silhouette emerged from nowhere and with startling speed its owner swung at Venetia’s attacker with his fist, knocking him off balance. With a grunt of pain the man fell backwards, tripping over his accomplice who gave a curse, and they both tumbled to the ground. Then, picking themselves up in a flash, they took to their heels and fled into the hazy gloom.
‘Va tutto bene, are you alright?’ The stranger’s light baritone voice broke through Venetia’s disoriented awareness, and he looked down anxiously into her large amber eyes.
‘Yes, yes, I think so,’ she panted, her hands going to her throat.
‘Are you hurt at all?’
‘No, no just a little shaken, thank you.’
‘You’re shivering. You’ve had a bad shock and you need a warm drink. Come. There’s a caffeteria that serves the best hot chocolate in Venice, just a few steps from here. It’ll do you good.’ Without waiting for a response, he took Venetia’s arm and led the way down the narrow street.
Venetia’s knees felt like jelly and her teeth were chattering. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, still trying to catch her breath, her heart pounding, and let herself be guided by her tall, broad-shouldered rescuer, who seemed to have taken the situation into his hands.
Thus does Fate cast her thunderbolts into our lives, letting them fall with a feather-like touch, dulling our senses to the storm they would cause should we realise their devastating powers.
They sat in silence at a table in a far-off corner of the crowded caffeteria. There was too much noise to talk and Venetia was exhausted, so she concentrated on appraising the man sitting opposite her as she listened to the music playing: Mina’s nostalgic 1960 love song, ‘Il Cielo in una Stanza’, the unashamedly romantic hit that was so Italian, and which was therefore still frequently played as a classic all over the country.
Venetia’s guardian angel looked more like Lucifer than a celestial being, with his tempestuous blue eyes, curiously bright against the warm tan of his skin, which slanted a fraction upwards under heavy, dark brows when he smiled. They were staring intently at her now with an emotion which puzzled her, and for a few seconds she found herself helplessly staring back into them. It was like gazing into shimmering water.
Strong, masculine features graced his nut-brown face beneath a thick crop of raven-black hair, sleek and shining, swept back from a wide forehead. He wasn’t good-looking in the classical sense, his face was too craggy for that immediate impact, but he was a striking man who emanated controlled power, someone used to making decisions who would not be swayed by any argument or sentiment; a hard man. Still, his steeliness was tempered by the enigmatic curve that lifted the corners of his generous mouth into a promise of laughter; this, coupled with the deep cleft in the centre of his chin, gave him a roguish expression that Venetia found appealing.
The waiter brought over a cup of hot chocolate, a double espresso and a plate of biscotti which he said were offered con i complimenti della casa. Her rescuer was obviously a regular customer.
Venetia took a few sips of the thick, warm brew. She felt herself revive as it trickled down her throat, becoming a warm glow in her stomach which reflected on her cheeks.
The stranger smiled at her. ‘Feeling better?’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, you’ve been so very kind.’
His smile broadened. ‘You are welcome, signorina. It is always a pleasure to come to the rescue of a beautiful lady. My name is Paolo Barone, at your service.’
Venetia had been working in Italy for over three years as an architect cum interior designer in her godmother’s architect firm, and was used to the gallant ways and the charm of Italian men. She found their smooth repartee refreshing, and sometimes even amusing, but never took them too seriously. Paolo Barone was different. Maybe it was because she was in shock and felt vulnerable, but nevertheless her heart warmed to this man, who, although not that young, was still in his prime – middle to late thirties perhaps – and she relaxed. Still, even though the circumstances in this case were unusual, Venetia was not used to accepting invitations from strangers, so she deliberately made no conversation; and to her surprise neither did he.
As she raised the warm cup to her lips with both hands, she was aware of him looking at her directly with unabashed interest. Was he trying to decipher her, she wondered? Relieved that the hot drink’s effect on her cheeks was hiding the slight confusion she felt beneath, she sipped a little too quickly and cooled her lip with the tip of her tongue. Then realising what she had done, she glanced up to see his expression deepen into something else, which made her instantly lower her eyes.
When she had finished her chocolate, Paolo smiled at her. ‘Andiamo? Shall we go?’ he asked, cocking his head to one side and looking at Venetia with curiosity.
Sparkling hazel eyes flecked with gold smiled back at him through long black lashes that somehow did not belong with her chestnut hair. ‘Yes. Thank you for the hot chocolate. It is really the best chocolate I’ve had in Venice.’
He helped her with her coat, lifting her glorious long locks over the fur collar. At five foot seven inches, Venetia was tall but as he faced her and began buttoning the garment himself, she noticed again how he towered over her. His hands were strong and masculine; she had a curious sensation of warm familiarity, as though he had performed this act with her several times before. Yet mingled with that feeling came one of embarrassment; his touch seemed a rather intimate gesture instead of the impersonal indifference of a stranger, and she drew away with a little nervous laugh.
‘Thank you, that won’t be necessary.’
He held her gaze intently for a moment, as if surprised at what she had said, and she looked down again, for some reason unable to meet those midnight-blue eyes and their burning intensity. Then he smiled and held the door open.
‘By the way, I don’t know your name,’ Paolo said as they stepped out into the misty night and began walking towards the Grand Canal.
‘Venetia. Venetia Aston-Montagu.’
He quirked a black eyebrow. ‘A very romantic name, Venetia, like our beautiful city. But you’re not Italian? You speak Italian like a native.’
She laughed. ‘Thank you for the compliment. No, I’m actually English, but I was named by my godmother, who is Venetian. She was my mother’s best friend and she insisted I learn Italian.’
‘So you’re on holiday here?’
‘No, I live here.’
‘Nearby?’
‘No, in the Dorsoduro district. I need to catch the vaporetto, as the entrance to the building where I live is on the Grand Canal.’
‘My launch is moored across the street. Dorsoduro is on my way. It would be a pleasure for me to drop you off.’
‘No, thank you. You’ve already been very kind.’
‘It’s late and snow has been forecast for tonight. The vaporetto is bound to be almost empty. I wouldn’t want you to come to any harm, signorina. I will give you a lift.’ He spoke quietly with an air of command, his hand coming up to her elbow, but she avoided it hastily.
It was very tempting to accept, but Venetia would not let herself. This stranger was a little too attentive, she thought, and though she had been grateful for his kind invitation to a hot chocolate when she was in distress, and could still recall the feel of his hands buttoning up her coat, she was not in the habit of being picked up by men.
‘No really, thank you very much. I’m used to travelling by vaporetto. It’s quite safe.’
Paolo did not insist, and for the rest of the way they walked in silence through the narrow, tortuous alleys, Venetia conscious of his nearness in every fibre of her being.
It was bitterly cold. The wind was whistling and a bank of threatening cloud hung over Venice like a white cloak. As they arrived at the waterbus stop, a few snowflakes started to come down. A couple of gondolas, their great steel blades looming dangerously out of the soft velvety mist, glided by swiftly over the gently lapping waters.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind? It looks as though there’ll be a blizzard and the vaporetto may be delayed.’ He looked at her with a polite, but guarded smile and she felt a momentary pang of regret at her determination to escape him.
Paolo’s pride was spared a new refusal as they heard the croaky purr of thevaporetto announcing its lazy approach.
‘Here comes my bus,’ Venetia said cheerfully. ‘I’ll be home in no time.’
The boat appeared and presently drew up at the small station, bumping the landing stage as it did so.
‘Thanks again for all your help, signore,’ she went on, smiling as she held out her small, perfectly manicured hand to say goodbye. The young man took it in his own, which was large and warm, and held it a trifle longer than would be usual. Venetia stood there with waves of heat passing over her, her senses suddenly heightened at this contact. She abruptly withdrew her hand.
His blue hawk eyes gazed down at her, intent though unfathomable, and he paused uncertainly. ‘Will you dine with me tomorrow night?’ he uttered in a low voice.
It would be exciting to dine with Paolo, she thought, but you must run from him, urged the echo of an insistent voice within her; this man has the power to hurt you.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she replied stiffly. ‘I’m afraid I’m busy.’
‘That’s a pity.’ He sounded as if he meant it, but did not insist, leaving her feeling curiously disappointed. He held out his hand again, silently, and she took it, also without a word. There was nothing lax or vague in his firm grasp. Like many people, Venetia was swift to gauge character by the quality of a handclasp and had known many apparently vigorous men whose fingers were like limp fish. Once more, she was aware that Paolo’s large, sensitive hands held a strength and vitality that stirred her deeply.
She hurried onto the vaporetto, suddenly eager to flee, but as the waterbus pulled away from the quay, she watched him go up the stairs and disappear into the snow-white night with a strange sinking of the heart, wondering if she would ever see him again.
When I was a child, my governess told me fairy stories. These tales, full of superstition and magic, were my first inspiration, and the warmth and colour they still evoke greatly influence my writing. They were also the experience through which I learned to become a storyteller, as my governess and I had an agreement – whenever she told me a story, I would have to tell her one in return.As a novelist, I am obsessed by vivid colours, lush landscapes and tales of exotic customs in far-off lands. I can trace much of this back to a dear and long-departed friend of my family Mr Chiumbo Wangai, who fascinated me as a teenager with stories of the witch-doctors and magical ceremonies in his native Kenya. When I visited the country myself, I soon fell in love with its beautiful countryside and unforgettable sunsets.
Though I have been telling stories since I was a child, it was only after my children had grown up and my husband and I had turned our family business into a success that I felt I could devote myself to writing full time. After I dug out the various ideas and sketches I had jotted down over the years, I realised how profoundly my travels throughout Europe, the Mediterranean and particularly Africa had burned themselves into my memory. I felt driven to turn them into a novel.
The mystery, magic, heat and passion of Kenya’s landscapes inspired me to use them as the setting for my first novel. Burning Embers, a passionate love story set against the backdrop of the country in 1970. My later travels through Europe provided rich fodder for more stories, including my new novel, The Echoes of Love, set in Venice and Tuscany, Italy.
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Blog Tour: The Lost Tycoon (Baby for the Billionaire #5) by Melody Anne
Title: The Lost TycoonSeries: Baby for the Billionaire #5Author: Melody AnnePublication Date: February 24, 2014
Fighting to survive, Mystic Elton takes one look at the man standing in front of her and knows she needs to make a decision – does she want to live? Discovering that her boyfriend is storing enough drugs to supply a small country, she looks for an escape route. He’s standing in the doorway – standing in the way of her freedom.Mystic has nothing left – no family, no friends, no one she can rely on. She is all alone and frightened. Managing to get past her ex, she flees, running to the other side of the country, landing in Seattle, she changes her appearance, her name, her life.
After a year, she begins to feel safe. Her ex won’t find her. She’s beginning to pick up the pieces of her once shattered existence and carve out a new world for herself.
That is, until a tall, well-dressed man shows up at her job and tells her they need to talk – and he knows her real name. Fleeing to get away from him, she rushes to the back room and grabs her Taser. When she hits him with it, she thinks she’s home free.
She’s not.
All Mystic has done is really tick off Bryson Winchester, and all he’s trying to do is help her by getting her scum of an ex off the streets.
Mystic has a choice to make. Is this a man she can believe in? Is any man worthy of her precious trust? She’ll find the answers, though they may not be what she expects or wants – her entire world is about to be turned upside down, because not only will she find there are some men out there worth trusting – she will find out the secret of her birth – the reality of who she really is.
Some things should stay in the past – and others… Other things will come back with a vengeance.
“It took a long time to find you, Ms. Elton.”Oh, no. Oh, no. Misty looked up into the steady gray gaze of the giant of a man standing in front of her. No! She was safe. It had been a year — a full year. It was only a few months ago that she had let down her guard, had decided it was safe to live again, had gone back to her natural hair color.
Jesse had moved on, surely. He wouldn’t have stayed single this long. He had to have a woman to boss around — to beat up on, by now. He would still hate her, still want her dead, but he wouldn’t still be searching for her. There was just no possible way.
“I…uh…I don’t know who you’re referring to,” she stuttered, and she crept toward the door to the back room. She was working a crappy job at a fast-food joint. It was nondescript, possibly even considered a bit seedy, and they hadn’t blinked when she’d given them her false name, her poorly done fake ID. She sure as heck wouldn’t eat the food there, not with their lax views on hygiene. They hadn’t even made her get a food handlers card. But, the job was working for her for now, allowing her to save up for her next move – though she wasn’t saving much.
If she could just get through the door, get to her locker, then she’d be able to grab her Taser. She’d started leaving it in her purse just a few months ago. Up until that point, she’d carried it on her, keeping the small, but hopefully effective, device in her pocket, just in reach of her shaking fingers.
This was what happened when you grew lax. This would be what killed her.
“Please don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need help. You have the wrong person,” she said, her voice more steady. He was watching her move toward the door, but he wasn’t taking a menacing step toward her — wasn’t reaching for the gun she knew he had to have on him.
She was close, so close. Inching a bit closer to the door, she kept her eyes on his hands. Those would tell her his next move. She’d become an expert at reading Jesse through his hands. The second they clenched she had known she was in trouble.
This man’s hands were sitting idly at his hips, just kind of hanging there. “Can I please sit down with you for a few minutes of your time? I won’t ask you to go anywhere alone with me.” His voice, she was sure, was supposed to convey trust.
That only made her more suspicious.
“Sorry. I have to get something from the back room.” She took her chances and darted through the door, not looking back as she made her way to her locker. Thankfully, it was open, since it was only her and one other kid on shift, who she actually trusted. She quickly reached into her purse.
When her fingers clasped around the small Taser, she felt her fear dwindling. It wasn’t as deadly as a gun, but it would knock a large man down long enough for her to get away.
“Ms. Elton, please–”
He’d followed her. And he was grabbing her arm.
Misty didn’t hesitate. She turned back to face him and pushed the button on her weapon. His eyes widened with shock followed by a shot of pain as thousands of volts of electricity traveled through his skin into his stomach.
He released her arm, and Misty took a step, planning on getting the hell away — far away from him and this place. It was time to find a new city. She’d stayed too long, far longer than she had originally planned, but her car had died, and she hadn’t saved enough to move again yet. Almost but not quite. The heck with it now, though. She’d take a bus, and live in a shelter for a while.
She wouldn’t be returned to Jesse, not ever again.
When the man’s hand snaked out and grabbed her leg, tripping her, Misty gasped. She got ready to use the stun gun again, longer this time.
“I don’t think so,” he growled between clenched teeth. He smacked the gun from her hand and pinned her beneath him.
Melody Anne is the author of the popular series, Billionaire Bachelors, and Baby for the Billionaire. She also has a Young Adult Series out; Midnight Fire and Midnight Moon - Rise of the Dark Angel. She's been writing for years and published in 2011. She hold a bachelors degree in business, so she loves to write about strong, powerful, businessmen.When Melody isn't writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, friends, and pets. She lives in a small town that she loves, and is involved in many community projects.
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February 28, 2014
Release Day Blitz: Breaking Spades by W. Ferraro
TITLE: Breaking SpadesAUTHOR: W. FerraroRELEASE DATE: February 28th
Cecille “CeCe” Cervetti lives her life by one rule: Never let a man control her heart, ever again.CeCe has built a life to be proud of--she’s successful in business, and in lust. Men are her playground, to take from, and use to her body’s content. They can only have what she is willing to give, so don't try asking for more.
When an unknown stalker raises the stakes, ripping away her hard won control, CeCe reluctantly seeks help from the first, and last, man she gave her heart to before he vanished from her life--Jarod Gates.
As they struggle to unmask the stalker, CeCe and Jarod learn of each other’s scarred pasts—scars that made them who they are today. But when her body screams for Jarod’s touch, can CeCe manage to keep her control? Or will Jarod make her question the one rule she’s built her life on?
“Can I ask you something?” Jarod asked, now with his full attention on her. Standing this close to him, in her bare feet, their height difference was so evident, almost a foot. “What do you see in Lowell?”
She looked at his straight on blue gaze and suddenly the room felt small.
“Just tell me, is that what you want? I’m sorry. I’m just curious.” He stepped away from her, running his hands over his face, he’d taken a deep breath before turning back to face her. “From the outside looking in, I don’t like him with you. He isn’t right for you.”
She should have known he would turn this cordial meal into anything but. Raising her head praying for strength and knowing even if it was to come from above she would never wait for it.
“How the fuck do you know who is and isn’t right for me?” her breasts heaved from the seething shout. Breaking the distance, she poked his chest again with her index finger emphasizing every word, “you’ve reappeared in my life what three days ago and all of a sudden you are an expert on what and who is best for me?”
Grabbing her finger with a gentle hand, he tried to stay calm, but whenever he is around her fury just explodes out of him, “I don’t like him with you!”
She laughed a malicious laugh, but didn’t move, “and why the fuck not?”
“Because he isn’t me! Alright?” he shouted.
“What?”
“You damn well heard me,” he said softer, but closer to her. Their bodies touched on every line. “You are just as much affected by me as I am by you. Admit it.”
“You are fucking insane, that is what you are.” She pulled away, taking refuge over by her workstation.
“Are you denying it?”
“You are damn right I am!”
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Cover Reveal: Blissful Surrender by B.J. Harvey
B.J. Harvey is a firm favourite of mine and her Bliss series is fabulous - and it's just about to get one book better!! Today we get to share with you the cover of book #3 in the series
Blissful Surrender
and I can't wait to meet Sean!!
This is a story of Sean Miller, a dom that will have your panties diving for cover with an eyebrow quirk. That will have even the strongest woman dropping to their knees in submission with a piercing stare, and Samantha Richards, a female cop who’s tough, seemingly impenetrable shell is strong enough to resist everyone except the one man it was build up to protect her against.
**Disclaimer – If you thought the first two Bliss books were hot, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Creative use of handcuffs, batons, a club scene you have to read to believe, and a tough as nails dominant who is blindsided by the one woman strong enough to threaten his resolve not to let his past dictate his future.**
Like the other books in the Bliss series, this book can be read as a stand alone. There are common characters in the books but it is not necessary to read the first two books in the series to read this one.
“Sean, I—”
No. She’s not getting another moment to talk herself out of this, out of us. She’s been running for way too long. This time it’s for keeps. This time, I’m not letting anything come between us—not my brother, not her mother, not her job and not some convoluted idea she gets in her head that she is not the submissive I need her to be. I’m sick of the bullshit, and this time I want what is mine.
And Sam is mine.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her body tight against mine and slant my head, slamming my mouth to hers as she gasps in shock. My hand grabs her blonde ponytail, holding her in place. Her tight muscles relax when my tongue rolls over hers as I set out to rediscover the beauty that is Samantha Richards. Her taste is intoxicating, and I find myself wanting to consume her, to lose myself inside of this gorgeous woman whose mind continues to deny the connection between us. In this moment, I want to show her everything I am, everything I can do to her, every possible way I can make her feel. I know I’m losing control, but with Sam, I don’t care.
I press my hips into her, pressing my hard as steel cock against the softness of her stomach. I feel her arms move between us, and I expect her to push me away, but she fists my shirt and pulls me closer, thrusting her hips into me in silent invitation.
She may not be able to admit the words, but she can show me with her body, with her actions—she can no longer deny the spark between us.
I pull my head back slightly, raking my teeth against her bottom lip. I scan her face, looking for any remaining uncertainty. If she said no it would hurt like hell, but I’d let her go. Again. But all I can see are swollen, pink lips and half-cast eyes full of want, and I know in that moment that I have my Sammy back. Even if it’s just for a few moments, a few hours, or maybe the night…if that is all I get with her, then I’ll take it willingly.
If this is the only chance I get with her, I’m going to make it count. I’m going to draw it out and make it last until neither one of us can move; until neither of us can breathe.
“You were saying?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
BJ Harvey is the Amazon Bestselling Author of The Bliss Romantic Comedy Series and The Lost Romantic Suspense Series. An avid music fan, you will always find her with headphones when writing, and the speakers blaring the rest of the time. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful children, and a full-time university student. BJ resides with her family in what she considers the best country in the world—New Zealand.
Facebook | Amazon | Twitter | Goodreads Author | Instagram
Other books in the Bliss Series
Temporary Bliss (Bliss #1)
*Disclaimer - There is absolutely no cheating in this book. However, this book does contain descriptive and super hot sex scenes that will make you blush and leave you hot and bothered. Make sure you have you husband, partner, boyfriend or significant other nearby when reading, or else batteries. Lots and lots of batteries*
Makenna Lewis cringes at any mention of the word commitment. She doesn’t want or need a relationship, but she does like sex (who doesn't).
That explains Noah, Sean, and Zander, her three 'friends with benefits'.
They know the score, they know they're not the only one, and each of them provide her with a different physical need that she craves and enjoys.
Until a late night encounter with the delicious Daniel Winters turns her preconceived notion of no-commitment completely on its head.
Soon she finds herself feeling things she vowed never to feel again, and when Daniel pushes for more than she’s willing to give, she falters.
What do you do when something that you’ve known to be so wrong in the past feels so damn right?
If you’re Mac, you run and hide.
But is Daniel the type of man who takes no for an answer?
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Audiobook (Releases 12th March 2014)
Barnes & Noble | iBooks
True Bliss (Bliss #2)
She watched her best friend find her superhero.
Now she wants her turn.
Despite a run of bad dates with Mr. Wrong, Mr. Boring, Mr. Bad Breath, Mr. Grabby Hands, and even Mr. Say I Love You After One Date To Get Into Your Pants, Kate McGuinness is more determined than ever to find the one.
Having tried everything else, she turns to the internet in a last ditch attempt to find her elusive prince.
But Kate doesn't want an everyday, run of the mill love.
She wants the kind of love that makes your heart skip a beat. The kind of love that makes you dance in the rain and bottle up the sunset. The once in a lifetime kind of love that authors write about, musicians sing about, and lovers dream about.
Could a certain police officer in training, who has come to her rescue in the past, be the one to swoop in and save her heart?
What if the love Kate desperately seeks has been in front of her the whole time?
She just needs to open her eyes to see it...
*Disclaimer: This book contains a hot as hell stripper with a penchant for public sex and exhibitionism who may or may not succeed in bringing out the inner firecracker in all of us. Oh, and don't forget the batteries.*
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Audiobook (releases 8th April 2014)Barnes & Noble | iBooks
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Blissful Surrender
and I can't wait to meet Sean!!
This is a story of Sean Miller, a dom that will have your panties diving for cover with an eyebrow quirk. That will have even the strongest woman dropping to their knees in submission with a piercing stare, and Samantha Richards, a female cop who’s tough, seemingly impenetrable shell is strong enough to resist everyone except the one man it was build up to protect her against. **Disclaimer – If you thought the first two Bliss books were hot, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Creative use of handcuffs, batons, a club scene you have to read to believe, and a tough as nails dominant who is blindsided by the one woman strong enough to threaten his resolve not to let his past dictate his future.**
Like the other books in the Bliss series, this book can be read as a stand alone. There are common characters in the books but it is not necessary to read the first two books in the series to read this one.
“Sean, I—” No. She’s not getting another moment to talk herself out of this, out of us. She’s been running for way too long. This time it’s for keeps. This time, I’m not letting anything come between us—not my brother, not her mother, not her job and not some convoluted idea she gets in her head that she is not the submissive I need her to be. I’m sick of the bullshit, and this time I want what is mine.
And Sam is mine.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her body tight against mine and slant my head, slamming my mouth to hers as she gasps in shock. My hand grabs her blonde ponytail, holding her in place. Her tight muscles relax when my tongue rolls over hers as I set out to rediscover the beauty that is Samantha Richards. Her taste is intoxicating, and I find myself wanting to consume her, to lose myself inside of this gorgeous woman whose mind continues to deny the connection between us. In this moment, I want to show her everything I am, everything I can do to her, every possible way I can make her feel. I know I’m losing control, but with Sam, I don’t care.
I press my hips into her, pressing my hard as steel cock against the softness of her stomach. I feel her arms move between us, and I expect her to push me away, but she fists my shirt and pulls me closer, thrusting her hips into me in silent invitation.
She may not be able to admit the words, but she can show me with her body, with her actions—she can no longer deny the spark between us.
I pull my head back slightly, raking my teeth against her bottom lip. I scan her face, looking for any remaining uncertainty. If she said no it would hurt like hell, but I’d let her go. Again. But all I can see are swollen, pink lips and half-cast eyes full of want, and I know in that moment that I have my Sammy back. Even if it’s just for a few moments, a few hours, or maybe the night…if that is all I get with her, then I’ll take it willingly.
If this is the only chance I get with her, I’m going to make it count. I’m going to draw it out and make it last until neither one of us can move; until neither of us can breathe.
“You were saying?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
BJ Harvey is the Amazon Bestselling Author of The Bliss Romantic Comedy Series and The Lost Romantic Suspense Series. An avid music fan, you will always find her with headphones when writing, and the speakers blaring the rest of the time. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful children, and a full-time university student. BJ resides with her family in what she considers the best country in the world—New Zealand.
Facebook | Amazon | Twitter | Goodreads Author | Instagram
Other books in the Bliss Series
Temporary Bliss (Bliss #1)
*Disclaimer - There is absolutely no cheating in this book. However, this book does contain descriptive and super hot sex scenes that will make you blush and leave you hot and bothered. Make sure you have you husband, partner, boyfriend or significant other nearby when reading, or else batteries. Lots and lots of batteries*
Makenna Lewis cringes at any mention of the word commitment. She doesn’t want or need a relationship, but she does like sex (who doesn't).
That explains Noah, Sean, and Zander, her three 'friends with benefits'.
They know the score, they know they're not the only one, and each of them provide her with a different physical need that she craves and enjoys.
Until a late night encounter with the delicious Daniel Winters turns her preconceived notion of no-commitment completely on its head.
Soon she finds herself feeling things she vowed never to feel again, and when Daniel pushes for more than she’s willing to give, she falters.
What do you do when something that you’ve known to be so wrong in the past feels so damn right?
If you’re Mac, you run and hide.
But is Daniel the type of man who takes no for an answer?
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Audiobook (Releases 12th March 2014)
Barnes & Noble | iBooksTrue Bliss (Bliss #2)
She watched her best friend find her superhero.
Now she wants her turn.
Despite a run of bad dates with Mr. Wrong, Mr. Boring, Mr. Bad Breath, Mr. Grabby Hands, and even Mr. Say I Love You After One Date To Get Into Your Pants, Kate McGuinness is more determined than ever to find the one.
Having tried everything else, she turns to the internet in a last ditch attempt to find her elusive prince.
But Kate doesn't want an everyday, run of the mill love.
She wants the kind of love that makes your heart skip a beat. The kind of love that makes you dance in the rain and bottle up the sunset. The once in a lifetime kind of love that authors write about, musicians sing about, and lovers dream about.
Could a certain police officer in training, who has come to her rescue in the past, be the one to swoop in and save her heart?
What if the love Kate desperately seeks has been in front of her the whole time?
She just needs to open her eyes to see it...
*Disclaimer: This book contains a hot as hell stripper with a penchant for public sex and exhibitionism who may or may not succeed in bringing out the inner firecracker in all of us. Oh, and don't forget the batteries.*
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Audiobook (releases 8th April 2014)Barnes & Noble | iBooks
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Blog Tour: Worth the Chance by Vi Keeland
Welcome to our stop on the blog tour for Worth the Chance the second book in the MMA Fighter series by Vi Keeland. Just like in Worth the Fight we get pages and pages of a sexy, tattooed fighter to spend time with - and believe me, Vince Stone is one sexy man!
A New Adult/Adult Contemporary RomanceNYT Bestselling Author Vi Keeland
Meet Liv MichaelsIt may have been seven years, but I’d know him anywhere. Sure, he’s grown, filled out in all the right places, but his captivating blue eyes and cocky grin are exactly the way I remember. Even though I’d much rather forget.
Liv Michaels is almost there. She’s smart, determined and weeks away from landing the job she’s dreamed about for years. Time healed old wounds, even her broken heart from the devastation of being crushed by her first love.
Meet Vince Stone
Women love a fighter, especially a good one. Lucky for me, I’m damn good. But there’s one woman that isn’t interested. Not again, anyway.
Vince ‘The Invincible’ Stone is every woman’s fantasy…strong, sexy, confident and completely in control. Growing up surrounded by chaos, he’s learned never to get too attached. Love will drag you down. He adores women, treats them well, puts their own needs before his own…for the night anyway. With the biggest fight of his life coming up, his focus should be on training.
When fate brings Vince & Liv back together again, there’s no denying the chemistry is still there. But can Vince erase the old scars their past left behind? Or will Liv hurt him instead?
Worth the Chance
is the second book in the MMA Fighter series by Vi Keeland. It tells the story of Vince Stone - the young troubled kid training with Nico in Worth the Fight - seven years on. Vince is all grown up, all kinds of hot and on track for a title fight. On the face of it, he has it all - including endless women throwing themselves at him. But behind the public facade there is much more to Vince’s story.Olivia Michaels is an up and coming journalist vying for her dream job at a big newspaper. Assigned to write a story about an MMA fighter in contention for a title she is stunned to see that it is Vinny Stonetti (aka Vince Stone), the boy that broke her heart seven years ago. In those days the two spent endless hours together with Liv tutoring Vinny in English. Their connection was strong and Liv never understood why he walked away.
Despite trying to have her assignment changed Vince insists if his story is to be told by the paper, Liv is the one that must write it. The chemistry between the two is intense, sexy and it is not long before they are embroiled in a hot and heavy relationship.
Of course there is much more to the story than what transpires from a relationship perspective between Liv and Vince - secrets from the past threaten everything and Liv must deal with the life of a fighter, including the endless stream of women that want what she has.
Keeland writes brilliantly. She sucked me into the story and I found myself thinking about the characters and wondering what would happen for them when I wasn’t reading. I loved Vinny as a kid in Worth the Fight. In Worth the Chance he has grown into a wonderful man who you can’t help but love. His strength, passion and cocky self confidence were to die for. But what I loved even more were the insights he had as he realised he was falling for Liv.
You should read Worth the Fight first to get the background story for Vince - although it is not essential and Keeland conveys enough of his back story throughout Worth the Chance . Really though, you should read Worth the Fight just because it is a fabulous read with a hot fighter!
I loved the twists and turns in this story, the connection between Liv and Vince and how everything played out. I’m thrilled that there is to be a third book in this series - Worth Forgiving - can’t wait to read Jax’s story.
4 out of 5 stars
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
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(8) Sets of "Bookchick glasses" and 5 custom wine charms, one of each of Vi Keeland's book covers – Internationala Rafflecopter giveaway
Excerpt Blast: Recklessly Royal by Nichole Chase
Suddenly Royal was fabulous and today we get to share with you an excerpt from Recklessly Royal, book #2 in the Suddenly series - which is just as fabulous!! Enjoy.
Catherine has spent her life being the perfect princess. She’s kept her hands clean, her head down, and most importantly—men at arm’s length. After all, most men are after only one thing, and for Cathy there’s a lot more at stake than her bed; she has to worry about the fate of an entire nation. But at the rate she’s going, Cathy is afraid she’ll give the Virgin Queen a run for her money. She is tired of waiting for someone good enough to come along. She has a plan, and it all hinges on seducing the one man who seems utterly unimpressed by all things royal. The one man she is tempted by more than any other . . . When David arrives at the royal wedding of his friend, the newly ordained Duchess Samantha Rousseau, he expected to feel uncomfortable and out of his element, but he wasn’t prepared to be targeted by Prince Alex’s gorgeous younger sister. With Cathy’s giant blue eyes, killer figure, and sense of humor, it won’t take long before he gives in. But when he finds out just how innocent the crown princess really is, will he play the part of knight in shining armor or the dashing rogue?
Chapter two of RECKLESSLY ROYAL by WilliamMorrowBooks
Nichole Chase is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Suddenly Royal, Flukes, The Dark Betrayal Trilogy, and several short stories. She is also the instructor of Say What? a dialogue class at the Romance Academy. Nichole lives in Georgia with her husband, energetic daughter, superhero dog, Sulcata tortoise, and two cats. When not writing, you may find her reading, painting, crafting, or chasing her daughter around the house while making monster noises.
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Pre-Order Links
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