Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 132

Shallow by Cora Kenborn

Title: ShallowAuthor: Cora KenbornGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: November 28, 2017


Blurb
Shiloh

Only the good die young. But I’ve never been good.I’ve lived a life most people only dream about. Famous men, expensive booze, and the finest drugs money could buy. But every vice has its price, and living a life of excess has finally dragged me down, forcing me back to the one place I swore I’d never return.We met in high school, but we were far from sweethearts. I ruined his life and then walked away. Losing everything is bad enough, but crawling back to people who wish you were dead is a nightmare. Some say absence makes the heart grow fonder.Not always. You either forgive and forget, or fracture and finish.
Cary

Seven years ago, Shiloh West was my world. I gave up my future for her. Then, I spent every waking moment hating her for it. I’ve followed her train wreck of a career in the tabloids since she drove out of town with her nose in the air. The woman is toxic.The fact that a judge has court ordered her back to town means nothing to me—except maybe the payback I’ve waited a lifetime to collect. I’m going to build her up and tear her down.A better man would walk away. I'm not a better man. She thinks she has the upper hand. Think again, Starshine.Beauty is only skin deep, but revenge goes straight to the bone.

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Excerpt
I rip off my drenched clothes on my way into the locker room while cursing her name. With every slam of my fist into the shower tile, I hear a telltale cracking sound, letting me know I’ve gone too far. Closing my eyes, I brace both palms against the fractured material as water pelts me from overhead and try to control myself. I’m in debt enough. I’d be an idiot to willingly destroy property I can’t afford to repair. Admitting that to myself pisses me off even more, causing me to want to rip down every piece and smash it against the concrete floor with my bare hands.
Within thirty seconds of standing there, my senses go into overload. As usual, I smell her before I see her. Fucking rain and sunshine. One whiff and my cock stands at attention, curling into my stomach as if nudging me toward her. 
"If you're gonna be in here, Starshine, you're gonna be naked." I don't have to turn around to know she's scowling. I feel the fury vibrating off her, and it makes me smile. Choosing to ignore her, I continue to lather myself, making an unnecessary production of soaping my chest and biceps. 
"I—I should go," she finally stammers. When she makes no move to leave, I know I’ve got her. 
"What's your hurry, sweetheart? You've got another half hour on the clock. Leaving before your assigned time is over and without my signature puts you in breach of contract." I glance down, making sure to drag her eyes along with mine. "And it appears I have no place to hide a pen on me, does it?"
The old Carrick was self-conscious about his body, hiding it behind layers of sweltering clothes. However, the new Cary is well aware that hours in the ring has transformed it. Men grab their women and women grab something to steady themselves when I’m around. I'm far from shy now and making Shiloh sweat a little is an added perk of my game. 
Besides, I want her to look. I already know her almond-shaped eyes are glued to my ass, but I need more. There's a raging fire in my veins that needs her so enthralled with me that she forgets to breathe. 
"Cary..." She tries one last time, but I'm done pretending. My name is name barely out of her mouth when I turn to face her, fighting the smirk that's dying to betray me.
As I expect, her eyes drop then widen as she scans what I have to offer. I fight the urge to give it a few strokes just to fuck with her.  
"You're naked," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. 
"Yeah, see that seems to be the problem here, Shy."
"Problem?"
"I told you, we have house rules around here. The first one is that if you're in the locker room while someone else is naked and showering, you'd better be naked and showering too." I don't realize I'm moving until she takes a step backward, her palms shooting out in front of her in battle ready stance. 
"I'm not taking my clothes off, Cary."
"Fair enough." I stalk her like prey, guiding her into a useless half circle until she realizes too late she’s backed against the chipped blue shower tile. "I'll do it for you."





Author Bio

Cora Kenborn writes twisted romance novels about bad boys and damsels NOT in distress while shocking readers with unpredictable plot twists.

A true Southern girl from Eastern North Carolina, Cora grew up on sweet tea and front porches, and knows the real meaning of “bless your heart.” She’s the mother of three hyperactive and occasionally adorable children and the wife to a husband who she’s conned into believing Hot Pockets are a perfectly acceptable family dinner.

Cora can usually be found taking notes during true crime shows, effectively freaking out everyone in the room. She proudly admits to being a domestic rebel and plans to pen future self-help books including: “Microwave Dinners For Dummies,” “Allergic To Laundry and Other Common Household Dangers,” and “When Hot Glue Guns Attack: A Mother’s Nightmare.”
Oh, and she and autocorrect are mortal enemies.



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ANY GIVEN SNOW DAY by Marie Harte

ANY GIVEN SNOW DAYby Marie HarteGenre: Contemporary Romance


Ex-NFL star + snarky single mom = a touchdown of a holiday romance
After two Super Bowl rings, MVP status, and retiring from the NFL while still on top, Mitch “Flash” Flashman’s millions should make life at the ripe old age of thirty-five a blessing. Yet he’s restless, rudderless, and can’t tell up from down. Roped into helping his brother coach a bunch of teenagers, Mitch finds himself playing defense against the many women in town wanting his attention. Except for one particular woman who doesn’t seem to like him much. Becca Bragg is mouthy, vulnerable, and sexy, and she captivates Mitch despite himself. But Mitch has no time for a sexy single mom when he’s still trying to figure out who he really is. With the playoffs, a boy’s future, and his own heart on the line, he’ll need to figure out how to pull the ultimate victory—winning Becca’s heart and keeping it. For good.

Mitch stared at a feminine version of Simon Bragg. A few inches shorter than her behemoth son, she had long, dark-brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a frown that would do Simon proud.
A subtle glance and he catalogued her feminine assets. Check, check, and check. A stunner if not for the scowl on her face. Her assistant, the other pretty brunette he’d seen with Simon at the game, just grinned at him before hustling away.
“Hello. Mrs. Bragg?”
“Yes?” Cool and collected.
Funny, but his heart was racing. Mitch had been with supermodels, actresses, professional athletes. Some had possessed the same qualities Rebecca Bragg did, that essence of attraction that sparked something in his brain…and in other places. But Mitch didn’t do married chicks. Ever. Best to remember that.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like to talk to you about Simon.”
Her frown deepened. “Is he okay? What happened?”
Mitch had debated how to broach the subject. After talking to Deacon, they’d decided Mitch should be the one to talk to her. He still wasn’t sure how they’d come up with that, other than that his brother was a scum-sucking wimp who’d rather face a firing squad than an irate mother.
“As far as I know, Simon is fine. I wanted to talk to you about his attitude though.”
She snorted.
Just like her son.
“And before you say this is somehow about me not understanding him because I’m the new guy, you need to know that Simon has been acting out and is pretty much annoying most of the team.”
She studied him in silence.
He wondered what she saw. Did she see the regular guy who’d rather be running down a field or hiding out in his home, reading history books and watching movies? Or did she see the confident, laughing playboy everyone thought him to be?
“Come with me.” She turned and walked into the back of her teahouse.
He followed her toward the sweet smells coming from a small kitchen. Entranced by the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, he took a big sniff. “What are you making?”
“Sticky buns, my version of cinnamon rolls. Hold on.” She took a few steps toward the doorway and shouted, “Nora, can you watch the front? I’m in a meeting.”
Nora laughed and said something he couldn’t make out but apparently Rebecca could.
She flushed and returned, putting the center island between them. He wondered if her husband had a hard time dealing with her moods, then thought the lucky guy probably didn’t much care. A woman who could bake and looked like her? A win-win…until she opened her mouth.
“Well?” She waited.
He just stared.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to say this without you getting offended. I would have called your husband, but Simon wouldn’t give me his number.”
Something that looked like pain flashed across her face. “My husband is dead. Now what did you want to talk about?”
Wow. Talk about stepping right into it. Might have been nice if the kid had explained his father was no longer alive when Mitch had mentioned the guy. “Sorry. Simon didn’t tell me.”
She sighed. “So what has my son done that brings the ‘Amazing Flash’ to my lowly shop?”
He ignored the heat on his face. “You know, if you’d heard the whole conversation, you might not be so quick to judge.”
“You’re here to talk about Simon?”
Fine. He wouldn’t explain himself to this sexy, stuck-up viper. Wait. Where had sexy come from? Rebecca Bragg was more girl-next-door…with a side of sexy. Damn her full mouth.



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Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit Marie's website and fall in love.

Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon


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The Nevada Escapists’ Club

A psychological thriller for womenDate Published: Out soon
Run, fight your fear and make a new life
When a man saves a woman, sometimes she must rescue him too... Zac senses the connection he has with the single stranger within minutes of their meeting. She, like him, needs a place to escape.   Ali falls into a holiday affair. But what happens when the Las Vegas fantasy is over and her sunglasses tinted view of the world returns to reality? She is supposed to forget everything... It was meant to stop there


Excerpt
AlisonChapter 1
‘Remember to forget,’ the signs in the Las Vegas airport yelled at me from every direction.That was why I was here, to forget. Only I wanted to forget everything I had left at home.‘But I chose you!’ Joseph’s words shouted through my head.‘It was not your choice!’ Had been my last words to him before I had slammed the door.The person who had the affair, the adulterer, was not the one who was able to choose whether the marriage carried on.If he had told me at the time, if I had known then, maybe I would have chosen to stay. But two years afterwards…He should have been honest then. It should have been my choice then.Now it was my choice and I had chosen to walk out and fly to Las Vegas.I was running away with my hands covering my eyes and ears. See no, hear no evil. But I didn’t care. I had lost me somewhere. I wanted her back. I was trying to find me again because the foundation I had worked so hard to build my current life on had been a lie for the last two and a half years. I thought I had been a respected woman at work and a loved wife. Instead, I had been cheated on and lied to, and nearly everyone around me knew.I wanted to shout and scream for the sake of screaming—to let the anger tearing at me get to the outside. I hoped, in the noise of Las Vegas, my screaming would be drowned out.Today I didn’t love Joseph anymore, and today I did not think I ever would again. He had stamped on my heart and crushed the love out of it. He did not deserve for me to care what he felt. But maybe tomorrow that would change. I did not understand how to respond when someone declared that they’d had an affair that had ended two years before but that they had stayed with you because they had realised how much they loved you. Two years ago!This was my time to choose whether I loved him enough to forgive him for something that had happened in the past.For now, though, I was going to forget about him and spend money. If I did sue for divorce he did not deserve to have any of the money I had been saving for four years. It was meant to be for my future. I would rather ruin that and waste it all than let him have half.When I walked out of the airport’s air-conditioned hall, Las Vegas’s heat and humidity hit me; it had been a gloomy, showery April day in London.I was here, in the USA. It was my first time. I was a Las Vegas and American virgin.I smiled for the benefit of no one but myself.This was me.This was the me who stood up in front of bad people and helped deliver justice. This me was strong, and she had come here to prove to herself that she could be alone and not scared.My fingers tightened their hold on the handle of the suitcase. A suitcase was the only thing I had left to hang on to. I had taken every lifeline away from myself by coming here. But I needed to prove to myself that I could do this. The heels of my stilettos clicked on the tarmac as I walked towards the taxis.I was here, and I was here to gamble and go wild. If I wanted to. I could do anything here. No one judged in Las Vegas. That was the saying that had brought me here to buy into it. I did not want to be judged; I just wanted to be and not have to think.The taxi driver got out to take my case and put it in the car boot.I slid into the back of the taxi without anything to hold on to.‘Where to, ma’am?’ he said when he dropped into the driver’s seat.I told him the name of the hotel.The second thing I discovered about Las Vegas, other than that it was hot, was that the middle of it was much smaller than I had expected. My eyes looked left to right and back again as the taxi travelled. Everything was more spacious than London, the streets were wide and mountains stretched into the sky in the distance. There was no distance in London.It took fifteen minutes to reach the hotel. I paid the driver. He collected the case from the boot. Then I was left on my own on the pavement holding on to my suitcase. The taxi had crossed the main street where everything exciting must happen but I was at the back of the hotel. Here, it was just queues of vehicles dropping people off or waiting to pick them up.My tongue stuck to the dry roof of my mouth. I tried to swallow when I turned around and walked in.How many people came to Las Vegas alone?The man who booked me in at the reception desk honoured the Las Vegas escapists’ code and didn’t even raise an eyebrow at my aloneness. He smiled and asked if I would like to go on any tours while I was here, book a show or a table in the restaurant?I refused everything. I wanted to explore and understand Las Vegas before I planned anything. I was cautious. It had taken me six months to accept Joseph’s invite to go on a date and he had flattered me constantly at work and bought me thoughtful gifts until I had finally believed he was real. Only to discover four years later that he was not real.The hotel room was spacious. A queen-size bed, sofa, and desk furnished the bedroom, and a walk-through wardrobe, with one side of mirrors, lined the route to a bathroom. It had a sense of an apartment. Which was good because I had not booked a flight home. I might decide to stay for weeks or months if I chose not to go back to Joseph.I put my case on the bed and unzipped it, hung up my evening dresses, put my T-shirts, skirts, shorts and underwear in the drawers, then put my makeup out on the vanity table in the dressing area. I took my toothbrush into the bathroom and then it all seemed final. That was the moment when I believed I had separated from Joseph.And I was in Las Vegas!My heartbeat pounded in my arteries, ringing in my ears.I faced myself in the bathroom mirror.‘You do not deserve me, Joseph.’The scar on the left side of my throat caught my eye. I looked away from it, at the reflection of my face. A voice that Joseph had stirred up spoke of ugliness and uselessness.I turned away from the mirror, from that insecure woman. I didn’t want to be her. I had cut off her hair years ago, when she had first run away, thrown out her clothes and become someone new.‘The Las Vegas me,’ I said aloud to silence the voice, as I walked into the bedroom, ‘she is strong.’ I would fight this, and maybe I would make myself someone different again when I went home. Although I couldn’t cut my hair any shorter unless I shaved it off.I picked out a black cocktail dress that was covered in sequins. I’d bought it for an office party three years ago. The Christmas before I had married Joseph.The memory made me hang it back up.I put on an electric blue dress that I had bought for my sister’s forty-fifth birthday party. The fabric had a satin texture with a tuck at one side of the waist. It had a flattering, but not flirtatious, pencil skirt and embraced me beneath and over my bosom. The short sleeves cupped the tops of my shoulders. I looked good in the mirror. The colour pulled out the blue in my eyes and the low V-neckline set off the way my blonde hair was styled to taper at my nape. It made my neck look longer. My gaze caught on the scar at the base of my throat. I looked into my eyes.I didn’t want to look good for the benefit of anybody else, just for me.At home I spent hours in gyms and beauty salons because those things helped pin me together.But Joseph’s affair had sprinkled doubt in my head like a packet of cress seeds. The jumbled twisted roots of negative thoughts were growing through my mind in a tangle of confusion. I didn’t trust anything. If my past had been different perhaps I could forgive him—instead I had travelled halfway around the world to run from the pain. Not him. I had not run from him. I had run from me.Makeup.Put a face on. Hide the reality. I could cover up anything with makeup. I had done it for years.I did it tastefully, with natural colours, setting a glow to my skin beneath the powder. I could be me.I looked at my full-length image.No, I can’t.I sat down on the bed. My hands clasped the back of my head as I leaned over, cowed. My spirit was so knocked it wanted to drag me down on to the floor. Why had Joseph done it? I had believed he’d loved me. I had been tricked. How could I be who I had been two weeks ago?Because I could not let this crush me.I had to fight.I straightened up, my hands falling, then stood. It was just about strength. I had to be strong.Dutch courage would help.I had bought a bottle of gin from the duty free on the plane. It was in the wardrobe to stop me from being tempted to drink it too early in the day. It was not early now and if I was going to walk downstairs my legs needed gin to start moving.The screw cap was stiff but after a moment it twisted loose. I drank several mouthfuls from the bottle. The hit from the alcohol shivered through my blood. Then I screwed the lid back on and put the bottle away. Joseph had said sometimes I drank like an alcoholic. Sometimes I did but I think my life justified that, sometimes.‘Just get out of this room and go to the casino, the noise will fill your head and you won’t feel trapped anymore.’ I said the words to the woman in the mirror. ‘You know if you stay here tonight you’ll never build up the courage to go out on your own.’ The determined voice slapped my bottom, making me move.I walked over to put some shoes on and selected the highest heels. Then picked up my handbag and the room key from the vanity table in the dressing area by the door.I clasped the door handle.‘Go.’I opened the door and walked out before I lost courage.The room was at the far end of a hall and it meant I had a long walk to the lifts. Courage and strength of mind was all I needed.The two couples who shared the lift with me talked and laughed, expressing how excited they were to be in Las Vegas.I should be excited too. I should think about that. As I rode down, standing in the corner because the couples filled up the rest of the space, I held my handbag in front of me like a shield. The bag tapped against my stomach with the tremble in my hands.The lift doors opened and the noise of the casino swept in, music, loud voices and the tunes of the electronic gaming machines.My heart jumped, joining the rhythm of the background music. I forced my legs to walk me out of the lift on to the gaudy brown and gold patterned carpet.There were a few empty tables in the room but most of the tables had groups of people around them. One craps table was surrounded by about twenty men watching a woman throw the dice. A couple of the roulette tables had crowds watching too.‘Before you lose your nerve, get some chips,’ I whispered the words at myself, trying to keep my legs moving and my lungs breathing. I did not want to panic here.A woman who had come out of the lift ahead of me looked back.The strange single woman was now talking to herself.I smiled. She smiled back.It was Las Vegas. I had come here because if I could not be weird here, then where?At the cashier window, I was going to hand over a hundred dollars, but—why hold back? I used my bank card and changed a thousand. Once I had the chips in my hand I turned around, looking at all the tables. The only game I knew anything about was blackjack, and the blackjack tables were the quietest.There was a blackjack table with no players in a corner right at the back on the far side of the room. If I went there, less people would be likely to cross the room and join the game. My heart pounded again as I wove through the tables with a slow, high-heeled enforced sashay.A finish line sign dropped from the ceiling above the table and I was running, in slow motion, to reach a ribbon I could tear through. Just a few more meters without anyone else noticing I was alone and out of place.My eyes focused on one of the high, long-legged chairs. I had to climb on to that chair in a pencil skirt. My new concern was not reaching the table but getting on the chair without falling or tearing my dress.When I reached it, I put my bag on the table and navigated the ascent with as much class as I could.I was on it, and I was here, doing this.I looked at the croupier.The young man smiled.

About the Author

Jane Lark is a nominee for the best Romantic Historical Fiction Novel 2017, and a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and Contemporary Novels, and a Kindle top 25 bestselling author in America
Jane started several novels when she was younger and never finished them. When she reached the age of thirty she didn't want to hit forty and still be saying I've always wanted to write a novel. She put it on her to do before I'm forty list and she hasn't looked back since.
Contact Links
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Nominate The Nevada Escapists' Club to be published by Kindle Press and if it's successful receive a free copy. This is reader-powered publishing for never-before-published books.
All you need to do is: 1. Read the excerpt and decide if you'd like to read more.2. If you want to read more click on the kindle scout link.3.  Click "Nominate me" to select The Nevada Escapist's Club as a book you would like to read.Then cross your fingers it goes through and you receive a free ebook.

Out of the Penalty Box By Genevive Chamblee

  TWO MINUTES IN THE BOX OR A LIFETIME OUT? Author: Genevive ChambleeTitle: Out of the Penalty BoxGenre: Gay RomanceSeries: Game On CollectionDesigner: Soxsational Cover ArtPublisher: Hot Tree Publishing   Hockey player Aidan Lefèvre’s professional and personal life is on ice. Recovering from an injury and traded to a new team, Aidan is attempting to prove his viability to his coaches, fans, and teammates. Just when he believes he’s succeeded, another accident during the playoffs threatens to unravel all of his progress. 
Having relocated away from family and friends, Aidan turns to his extroverted team captain, Christophe Fontenot, whose jovial nature lifts everyone’s spirits. But when Aidan discovers his attraction for Christophe changes the meaning of “body checking,” Aidan questions more than his hockey skills. 
Should he deny what he feels or come out of the “box”?
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2Bhnngw Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2hXOJn8 Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2hNaEcW Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2iJwYVo iTunes: http://apple.co/2zXFie7 Nook: http://bit.ly/2AqIxvq Kobo: http://bit.ly/2zrLBXR Website I Facebook I Twitter I Goodreads I AmazonGenevive Chamblee lives in the bayou country in the deep south where sweet tea, football, good music, and colorful family is gospel. When she is not writing, she can be found attending SEC football games, playing with her dog, sightseeing, or spending time with family.
Genevive writes contemporary romance, erotic romance, fantasy romance, the occult, Creole culture, and southern drama.

Magically Bound by Rachel Medhurst

Witch, Warlock, Whatever…My name’s Devon Jinx, and, yes, I’m half warlock, half witch. But I couldn't care less about which kind of magic is better. All I want to do is keep my head down and get on with my new job as an investigator at the Hunted Witch Agency.A recent, shall we say, mistake, has put me in place to inherit the leadership of the warlocks. Which means only one thing. I have a choice to make: Leave behind my life of witchery to become a warlock, or lose my warlock magic forever.Complicating my choice is the fact that someone is trying to destroy the warlock coven. If I don't stop them, the warlocks will be annihilated. The task seems impossible until Gerard Freshwater, a distractingly handsome witch, explodes into my life. He's determined to make me see that being a witch isn't just the best option, but the only option.About the BookMagically Bound
by Rachel Medhurst
Series
Hunted Witch Agency #1
Genre
Adult
Urban Fantasy
Publisher
Independent
Publication Date
November 28, 2017

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 About Rachel Medhurst
Rachel grew up in South East England. She learnt at a young age that life can be hard work. She now believes that whatever happens to you, you can overcome it.She writes to help others see that no matter where you come from, you can still achieve your dreams. As a teenager she would never have dreamed of becoming an author.However, in her twenties, she realised that she was allowing her past to dictate her future. She decided to accept and forgive everything that had happened to her, everyone that had hurt or upset her and she even forgave herself for allowing life to bring her down.In early 2014 after writing The Deadliners, Rachel decided to self publish. It was one of the best things she’s ever done. Since then, she’s released a series called Avoidables and a novella called Choice! (October 2014) which is part of the Modern Dreams series published by Salt Publishing.Rachel will always remember where she came from, but only to see how far she has come.Rachel’s Links          

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Cats & Dogs - Part 2 By: Jess Molly Brown

   Title: Cats & Dogs - Part 2By: Jess Molly BrownPublication Date: November 2017Genre: Contemporary Romance#catsanddogs2reveal This is the second of two novellas containing animal antics and a second chance romance. Partial proceeds will be donated by the author to children’s cancer charities. Nathan Brooks and Julia Hart have known each other forever. As kids, no one could keep up with them and no one could replace them in each other’s lives. They bickered, they bantered, they loved and they fell apart. Five years later, they’ve reunited and the relationship is serious. The kind of serious that involves weddings and babies. Nathan is adamant that the wedding will come before the baby. Fate may not be so accommodating. Julia may be on the same page as her fiancé, but there are many roadblocks standing in the way of this devoted pair. Work, family, addiction, and even the weather present unforeseen challenges. And don’t even get started on the antics of the crazy animals Nathan accommodates in his veterinary clinic. No matter what the circumstance, life at Brooks House is never dull. It comes with a hefty helping of barks, meows, cackles, squeals and moos. And a few strange photographs. Can Brooks and Hart tie the knot before cutting their baby’s umbilical cord?
  AMAZON - http://amzn.to/2yAVvCd AMAZON - http://amzn.to/2yc7Dta Greg handed Nathan his cane. “The girls are having a hen party at your place. You’re stuck with us until tomorrow.” “Where are we going?” Nathan patted Mrs. Keillor on the shoulder as he headed for the front door. “Sex shop.” Nathan turned around, open-mouthed, to tell his best friend that was not going to happen, but found himself aloft. Before he could utter one yip of protest, his friends crammed him in the back of Kitt’s SUV. Outside the front door, Mrs. Keillor, Jules and her mom waved, laughing their guts out. He shut his mouth with a snap. “Bye, Jules!” his friends hollered out the car windows. “We’ll bring him back in pristine condition,” Greg added. Jules beamed. “You’d better!” “Yeah, he’ll still be a virgin!” Kitt yelled as they rolled up the windows. It was freaking cold out and Nathan had no coat. Nathan reached forward and flicked him on the ear. “Hey, I’m driving!” “I’m not a virgin, moron. In case you haven’t noticed, that’s my kid expanding Jules’s waistline.” Greg cuddled into Nathan’s side and made a kissy face. “We never knew you had it in you!” Then he and Scott pounced.
Don’t be fooled by the seeming tranquility, Jess is scheming. There are a lot of characters in her head and all of them want out. A best-selling author, she edits for professional authors and is always tutoring somebody. She got her start ten years ago, in Twilight fan fiction, and is proud of it. Four great kids, one husband *coughbiggestkidofallcough* and two dogs ensure that the house is always messy. The garden’s overflowing with blooms, but weedy. The grass always needs cutting, provided it’s not buried beneath snow. She lives in Canada, eh? The dogs are walked, the kids get fed, the hubbs hasn’t killed anybody yet, the books Jess reads she reviews, and somehow, the people in her head manage to make it into stories. Occasionally, she embarrasses her kids by doing Zumba in front of their friends. It’s just how she rolls. Come join her quest for world domination at http://www.jessmollybrownauthor.com
Social Media LinksFacebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/jessmollybrownauthor/Facebook Account: https://www.facebook.com/jess.molly.3Website: http://jessmollybrownauthor.comGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7823017-jess-molly-brownInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/jessmollybrown/Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/110113790741733256918FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2058077/jmollyPinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jmollytwilight/boards/Twitter: https://twitter.com/jmollyfanfic
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POPPIES FOR CHRISTMAS by Stacy Renée Keywell

POPPIES FOR CHRISTMAS by Stacy Renée KeywellGenre: YA Romance
A celebration of love without labels. It’s easy to be brave with you by my side!

Popular DJ Dexx finds himself positively smitten by the precociously pristine Poppy Paris. Too bad she’s already taken by an older boy, Declan Davies, a beautiful model with a thriving career, and a perfect family. By a dreamful stroke of chance, Dexx finds himself invited to spend Christmas at the Davies home by a gorgeous girl, granting him the opportunity to pursue the precious Poppy. But in his quest to win her over, he unlocks a world of imperfection and insecurity, where people are picked on for their disabilities, speech, appearance, and eccentricities. For Poppy and her friends, love trumps labels, and everyone deserves a brave friend to stand by their side. What gifts will Dexx discover this Christmas? Will he ultimately find true love, or will he discover something even greater?

You are invited to read a powerful story about living with autism, but not letting it define you, about being bullied, but carrying on with determination and grit, and about having dreams, but not giving up in the face of adversity. Come celebrate something beautiful with Poppies for Christmas.


The Science of Baking

I read somewhere once that cooking is an art. It takes imagination and flare. But baking? Baking is a science. It takes exactitude and precision. It requires patience. It requires dedication. It requires love. A whole lot of love. And well…that’s what I’ve got…love…love for a girl, a special one, one who deserves dedication. So what do I choose to prove my love? I choose baking.

Chapter One

Lenn

Deep inside my tote, my hand grazed against my faithful sketchbook before I removed it. The metal spirals comforted my fingers as I dragged them across the row of sharp-edged rings. Firmly gripping the book, I flipped it open to a blank page near the middle. I smoothed out the slightly texturized, eggshell white page. I bent down and buried my nose in the crease, inhaling the faint lead pencil scent. It calmed me, readying me to add another chapter to my visual saga.

Spreading my tools around me, hard and soft pencils, a ruler, several firm erasers, and a small metal sharpener, I steadied my hand and cleared my mind, inviting in only the most blissful images of my fantasy. With a soft lead pencil, I constructed an oval blank for the face. Art classes definitely assisted in perfecting the technique, but dedication and talent trumped instruction.

I used the ruler to estimate the proper dimensions. I added eyes, a nose, some crazy-hot lips, all his beautiful features. I gave him expressive brows. I sketched his glossy dark brown hair, shaggy bangs flopping over to the side, covering his ear, exposing that sarcastic, twisted grin on his lips, the same way he looked when he joked around with his friends in the corner of the library during study hall.

A trusty eraser mopped up all of the stray, miscellaneous marks. I blew away a couple gummy shreds before I shaded in his taut jawline. I wiped up the last scattered pieces left behind on the page before I started on adding myself to the portrait. Duplicating the process, I gave myself a hipper, manga-esque look, allowing for a more whimsical likeness of myself.

Poppy and Kit sat at the same long, wooden table, on the opposite side of me. Kit swiped through the pages on her tablet, desperately trying to find the right page number, since she had neglected to tap the bookmark before closing out her chapter the previous night. Nervous oohs and aahs escaped her lips. Poppy, sitting with her legs crossed, jiggled her feet beneath her chair, shaking the table, creating a rattling earthquake under my artwork.

I shot a glare in her direction. “Would you please stop? The both of you! You are driving me crazy, and ruining my picture.”

Poppy and Kit stopped suddenly. They looked at each other, wide-eyed and innocent, two does in the midst of a meadow. Unaware! Clueless! Oblivious!

“I can’t think when you moan that way,” I snapped, addressing Kit. She squirmed underneath her oversized flannel shirt and baggy jeans.

“And, you,” I turned to Poppy. “You are going to smudge my drawing with all of that wild motion going on underneath the table. Can it!”

Their jaws dropped. They both stared at me, wordless.

“Please.” I hugged my journal protectively. Softening my voice, I turned to Poppy and asked her again. “Please?”

“Sorry,” they announced in simulcast, sighing, shrugging their shoulders, lost together in the great woods of their minds.

They looked back down at their own musings. I continued to draw.

In this picture, the two of us relaxed together on a chaise lounge, him with his large, bulbous headphones, and me with my skull and crossbones ear buds. Our eyes drifted in the opposite direction, lids almost closed, in a sleepy trance. My arm draped across his chest until our fingers entwined, intimately. We zoned out to his simpatico beats.



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Born with the passion for storytelling, Stacy Renée Keywell spends time stargazing, daydreaming, and creating adventures for her family to conquer. Being an educator for over twenty years, Stacy enjoys studying and sharing her knowledge of culture, philosophy, language, and the humanities. She loves the human spirit, appreciates profound humor, and dreams about the mysteries of the spiritual unknown. Besides following her whimsical dreams, Stacy’s hobbies include singing off tune, dancing oddly yet awesomely, reading as much as possible, and traveling around the globe with gusto. Stacy lives a life of fabulous clichés. Stacy works hard at telling bad joke, and making up amazing new words in hopes that they will one day find their way into the dictionary. She strives to love without labels with her nonprofit movement Project Love Without Labels, which tackles social stigmas and takes on bullying. She vows to bravely stand by the sides of those who need her, especially her two daughters. Stacy, her husband, and her children, live in Michigan in a quaint house in the woods.

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FROZEN HEART by Ella Medler

FROZEN HEARTCalidora series, the prequel
by Ella MedlerGenre: Time-Travel Fantasy


Quiet and listless, the glass heart sat hidden under layers of unremarkable clutter, its secret safe. The human hands had touched it often through the strata of debris, but until now, had never uncovered it fully.

At last, the yellow duster cut through the grime, and the heart began to shift. It would most likely have frozen over again, up on its high shelf, if the cat’s careless pouncing hadn’t made if fall into a box full of tinsel.

This is how the history of time and place began to change — with the story of the frozen heart.



“I would love to travel in time with you, Mal.”

His answering grin almost turned her knees to jelly, he was that handsome.

“First, you must make sure you don’t lose track of me. I can’t even imagine the trouble you’d get into without me there to guide you.”

Khira hooked the ribbon over her head. If she let go, the glass heart would dangle right over hers, she realized. “Is this okay?” she asked. Mal nodded. “Wait! Do I need anything? Boots? A coat? Cash?”

Mal smiled again. “It won’t matter. I can make you fit in anywhere.” He touched his hand to the wall of glass. “Give me your hand.”

Khira placed the tips of her fingers over his hand. A helix of light burst forth from the heart. It grew and pulsed around her until it became a vortex of colors, twisting and winding around each other like ribbons in a tornado, with her at the center of it all.

She clasped the heart closer to her chest as she felt her body lifting into the air. Just before she started spinning, her window crashed open and a shaggy, furry shape, somewhat reminiscent of Dodo the cat, leapt into the funnel and landed on her shoulder. Khira screamed when the creature’s claws sank into the skin on her back, but she didn’t dare let go of the heart in her hands. The whirlpool of color and motion intensified, and then exploded in a shower of stars.

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SHATTERED HEART is another Calidora story. This book is only available in The Bells of Winter boxset.

SHATTERED HEART


The frozen heart with its vicious curse slices its way through time to a plague-hit London. Dodo, guardian of Calidora, ruler of time, has a momentous decision to make—save himself or sacrifice his life to save humanity.

THE BELLS OF WINTERThe Bells are ringing for the turn of the year, so grab a hot toddy, a warm blanket, and this collection of beautiful stories to warm up your heart and soul. These are all clean, family-friendly, inspiring reads in many genres, great for entertaining anyone from lovers of fantasy to the more serious mystery reader.

Add this collection to your kindle now. And while you're at it, gift it to grandma, too.

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Ella Medler is a U.K. author and editor. She writes fiction in many genres in a seemingly vain attempt to slow down her overactive brain enough to write non-fiction on subjects she knows a thing or two about. She also does not believe in the starchy use of English and ignores the type of rule that doesn’t allow for a sentence to be finished in a preposition. Her books are action-driven, and well-developed characters are her forte. Loves: freedom. Hates: her inner censor.

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When in Rome by C.J. Duggan

Title: When in RomeAuthor: C.J. DugganPublisher: Hachette AustraliaGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: November 26, 2017


Blurb
The fourth standalone novel in CJ Duggan's Heart of the City series from the internationally bestselling author of the Summer and Paradise series.
What's the saying again . . . when in Rome, do a Roman?
How did a self-orchestrated gap year turn into a less-than enthralling lifestyle as a couch potato at her parents' house? Determined to get motivated and join life again, Sammi Shorten books a budget Bellissimo Tour to Rome, the Eternal City. What she hadn't signed up for was being stuck with an eclectic group of binge-drinking foreigners in a bed-bug-infested hostel from hell. Things in Rome really couldn't get much worse . . . could they?
When plans go completely awry Sammi's left with only one place to turn, and it's the one place Sammi really doesn't want to turn – to the man who might very well get her into the worst trouble of all: the gorgeous local tour guide, Marcello Bambozzi.
When in Rome is the fourth standalone book in CJ Duggan's sassy, sexy new adult series, Heart of the City.

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Author Bio

CJ DUGGAN is the internationally bestselling author of over ten books. She lives with her husband in a rural border town of New South Wales. When she isn't writing books about swoony boys and 90s pop culture you will find her renovating her hundred-year-old Victorian homestead or annoying her local travel agent for a quote to escape the chaos.


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