Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 264

LIBERTY by Kim Iverson Headlee

LIBERTYby Kim Iverson HeadleeGenre: Historical Romance (ancient Rome)


How hard would you fight for a chance at impossible love?

“Epic.” ~ Drue’s Random Chatter Reviews.

From the critically acclaimed, award-winning pen of Kim Iverson Headlee comes the thrilling, poignant tale of love across a vast social divide.

WINNER, 2015 BooksGoSocial Best Book.

Betrayed by her father and sold as payment of a Roman tax debt to fight in Londinium's arena, gladiatrix-slave Rhyddes feels like a wild beast in a gilded cage. Celtic warrior blood flows in her veins, but Roman masters own her body. She clings to her vow that no man shall claim her soul, though Marcus Calpurnius Aquila, son of the Roman governor, makes her yearn for a love she believes impossible.

Groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and trapped in a politically advantageous betrothal, Aquila prefers the purity of combat on the amphitheater sands to the sinister intrigues of imperial politics, and the raw power and athletic grace of the flame-haired Libertas to the adoring deference of Rome's noblewomen.

When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Trusting no man and knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name, Libertas—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.



Marcus Calpurnius Aquila sprawled on his belly across the cushioned and linen-draped marble massage table, his head, arms, shins, and feet jutting over the table’s padded edges. As the male slave worked eucalyptus-scented unguent into the aching muscles, Marcus could feel the tensions of combat seep away.

Too bad the man couldn’t work out the knots in Marcus’s relationship with his father, Sextus Calpurnius Agricola, governor of Britannia province.

Citing “official business” yet again, Agricola had declined to witness Marcus’s gladiatorial bout in Londinium’s amphitheater this afternoon. His opponent had fought well, causing Marcus in his scanty armor to work up a sweat that, judging by the reverberating high-pitched cheers, had all the women swooning with delight.

Never mind that Marcus, who fought under his cognomen, Aquila, the Eagle, remained a perennial favorite with the crowd. Agricola never missed an opportunity to point out that his arena exhibitions—and the resulting private liaisons with adoring female spectators—flirted with the precipice of social acceptability and could damage Marcus’s political aspirations.

LOVING SWEETNESS by Jude Ouvrard

LOVING SWEETNESS
Sweet series, book 2
by Jude Ouvrard
Genre: Contemporary Romance (heat level: hot)


The beginning of a new journey for Iris is both exciting and stressful but she’s not ready to face what’s to come. Neither is Calvin.

Iris is ready to embrace her dream job with the faithful support of her boyfriend. Their love strengthens as they enjoy their life together. Between traveling and meeting new people, she views Calvin’s life and everything that comes with it with a new perspective.

Their life seems perfect, at least until Iris becomes the target of a manipulative soul who proves to be a nasty adversary. Stubborn and Fierce, Iris fights for her man, but will it be enough?




“Stay,” he ordered me.

I left without looking at him or saying goodbye. I had enough. Hurrying out of the building, I had no idea where to go. In such a short time, my life had completely included Calvin in everything I liked to do, whether it regarded going to the gym or the Lounge; they had become my daily hang outs. My friends were his friends, except for Krys.

My feet hurt, I missed my old sneakers. Who was I trying to impress now? Dressed in expensive clothes, none of which I could afford. All that for nothing. This personality wasn’t me. The only things I liked about it were Calvin’s eyes when he looked at me, and how sexy he made me feel. A first tear ran down my cheek. I had to stop. Be stronger than that, Iris. You’re in the middle of the city. You can’t cry.

Where do I go now? A coffee shop? Or maybe I could get a nice haircut. I hadn’t gotten one in quite a while and my hair could use a new do. I kept walking until I found one. Some people say getting their haircut is like therapy, well bring it on.

~~~

After ignoring my phone for a couple of hours, the time to get home had arrived. Spending two hours getting my hair done was exactly what I needed. A new start definitely made me happier, but it faded slowly as I approached the penthouse.

It was late. He’d mentioned he had to leave tonight. What if he had left already? I checked my phone. Nineteen missed calls and my voicemail bursting to capacity.

“Shit!” I muttered to myself.

As I was about to unlock the screen, a call from Calvin came in.

“Hello.”

“Where the fuck are you?” he asked.

“Where the fuck are you?” I could be just as mad as him if I wanted to.

“Iris, don’t play stupid games with me. Where are you? Where have you been?” His voice started to smooth down, I could hear relief.

“I got my hair trimmed.” Maybe a bit more than trimmed, but I didn’t have to be specific, right? Only few inches shorter.

“Where are you now?” he asked, his voice soft, almost like the normal Calvin. Not the stressed-out man he had been today.

“On my way. Are you still home?”

“I just got in my car, I’m driving to the airport.”

Oh! “Okay.” I couldn’t forget how mad he had made me earlier, but a big part of my heart wanted to see him before he left. “I’m two corners south. I’m sorry I missed you. Have a safe trip.” I heard him say my name, but I hung up before he could hear the pain in my voice.

The tears finally became uncontrollable. Today sucked. I wished my brain could delete the last ten hours. I probably had mascara streaming down below my cheeks, but I didn’t care. I tried walking faster. Maybe tomorrow I could stay home again and stay away from Candice. Dealing with her drained all my energy.

“Iris? What the fuck have you done?” Calvin’s voice startled me.

I turned, searching for him. I had chopped off at least five inches of hair, making it just below my shoulders.


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⭐⭐BOOK 1 OF THIS SERIES IS CURRENTLY ONLY AVAILABLE IN THE CHRISTMAS IS FOR LOVERS BOX SET. 6 FULL LENGTH BOOKS FOR ONLY 99cents.⭐⭐

Fleeing this very heartache, Iris leaves her Florida home to attend Columbia University. While she makes friends, works, and enjoys her classes, Iris is not in a rush to fall in love; that is, until a certain sexy someone finds her. Suddenly, Iris' boring holiday takes a sizzling turn. But will the heat of passion lead to a holiday fling, or finally melt her frozen heart?

In the process of following her own heart, can she help a man find his way of letting go of his past guilt and show him how to love unconditionally?



"Drama, true love, tattoos...and everything in between!"

Jude Ouvrard is an author who writes from the heart, and reads with passion and devotion. Jude enjoys stories of drama, true love, tattoos, and everything in between. While writing is her therapy, reading is her solace. Life doesn't get better than books and chocolate, and maybe a little bit of shopping.

A romance lover, Jude writes about love, pain, heartbreak and matters that will challenge your heart. A book can tell an unexpected story, no matter which directions it takes. Jude embraces words that have haunted her for years.

Jude is a working mom who dedicates her time to a law firm and writing books. She has an energetic superhero son, and a supportive boyfriend of many years. Her family is her rock; she could not survive without them. Born a country girl, she transformed into a city woman who now lives in Montreal, Canada. Although French is her first language, Jude decided to write in English because she liked the challenge.

Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon ✯ Facebook


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Ever wondered about the personalities behind your favorite books? Victoria Danann's new podcast with Riley J. Ford has an incredible lineup of authors booked through the spring. No question is out of bounds. Check it out!

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USA Today bestselling romance author Angel Payne has been reading and writing her entire life, though her love for romances began in junior high, when writing with friends on "swap stories" they'd trade between classes. Needless to say, those stories involved lots of angst, groping, drama, and gooey kissing.

She began getting a paycheck for her writing in her twenties, writing record reviews for a Beverly Hills-based dance music magazine. Some years, various entertainment industry gigs, and a number of years in the hospitality industry later, Angel returned to the thing she loves the most: creating character-based romantic fiction. Along the way, she also graduated with two degrees from Chapman University in Southern California, taking departmental honors for English, before writing five historical romances for Kensington and Bantam/Doubleday/Dell.

Angel found a true home in writing contemporary-based romances that feature high heat and high concepts, focusing on memorable alpha men and the women who tame them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the Kinky Truth series, the Secrets of Stone series (with Victoria Blue, to be re-released through Totally Bound Publishing starting late 2016!), the W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces series, and the acclaimed Cimarron and Temptation Court series.

Angel still lives in Southern California, where she is married to her soul mate and lives on a street that looks like Brigadoon, with their awesome daughter and Lady Claire, the dog with impeccable manners. When not writing, she enjoys reading, pop culture, alt rock, cute shoes, enjoying the outdoors, and being a gym rat.

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Gaia and the Goliaths By Steve Moore

Mystery, Suspense, ThrillerDate Published:  February 5, 2017Publisher: Carrick Publishing

An environmental activist is murdered on a street in Manhattan after a protest. NYPD homicide Detectives Chen and Castilblanco get the case. While pursuing the clues to find those responsible, they discover the activist’s boyfriend is in danger because he has key information that will expose an international conspiracy involving Europe, Russia, and the U.S. As the tangled web unravels, an old nemesis of the detectives makes his appearance.


Other Books in the Detectives Chen & Castilblanco Mystery Series

Published: October 2015
NYPD detectives Chen and Castilblanco continue their adventures in this sixth novel in the series. Castilblanco’s relative Teresa and Nasir are an item, but Nasir kills Teresa’s taunting and jealous ex-boyfriend in a fight. When they look to Nasir’s friends for help, those friends kidnap the two fugitives who become involved in a terrorist plot.While the two detectives try to find Teresa and prove her innocence, a case in a different precinct involving a different Castilblanco relative surfaces. The cop’s uncle, other detectives, and the Coast Guard help sort things out, including the connection to an old mafia family.
Published: 2010
The murders of a Wall Street broker and a Navy SEAL in Manhattan only miles and minutes apart seem unrelated, but two homicide detectives discover a connection. As the strange cases merge and they chase down the killers, even with federal stonewalling, they uncover a terrorist plan to destroy two American icons and generate a financial crisis bigger than the Wall Street implosion of 2008. Hiding in the background are webs of international intrigue taken from today’s post-9/11 world.
Published: March 2012
Steve Moore gives a new meaning to “narco-terrorism” in this new thriller that has your favorite NYPD homicide detectives Rolando Castilblanco and Dao-Ming Chen thwarting another terrorist plot, as they did in The Midas Bomb. Castilblanco uses his old Navy SEAL skills to good effect and Chen takes on a new sexy and independent role against the combined forces of al Qaeda, a Mexican cartel, and neo-Nazi militia members.
Published: May 2013
With Teeter-Totter between Lust and Murder, Steve Moore continues the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series.” The sleuths of The Midas Bomb and Angels Need Not Apply will embroil you in action and suspense yet again.As a mystery novel, it is a dark probing into the nexus the crime underworld sometimes enjoys with the rich and powerful. Chen is arrested for the murder of a senator in circumstances that seem to leave no doubt of her guilt, but Castilblanco helps prove her innocence.With this new crime novel, Steve continues the saga of your two favorite detectives as they and their companions fight the corrupting influence of the illegal weapons trade.
Published: March 2014
Aristocrats and Assassins continues the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series.”NYPD detectives Chen and Castilblanco leave their comfort zones once again. Chen goes to China where she helps the DEA track down a money laundering scheme. Castilblanco is in Europe on vacation with his wife. They meet up to thwart a terrorist who’s kidnapping members of the European royal family. What relation does he have to the money laundering scheme? Why does he have a vendetta for Castilblanco? What’s his real agenda? Join Chen and Castilblanco on a tour of Europe you won’t find in Frommer’s.
Published: November 2014
Chen and Castilblanco are back in the Big Apple.  They begin to investigate the murder of a SOHO art dealer, delve into the shadowy world of art thieves, and discover that stolen artworks can be used as collateral to finance some dark entrepreneurship.  The Collector is book five in the Detectives Chen and Castilblanco series.  
Excerpt
Excerpt from Steven M. Moore’s Gaia and the Goliaths, #7 in the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series”, Carrick Publishing, 2017:Chapter OneDr. Guillermo Sanchez ran with EMTs as they guided the gurney through the halls on the way to one of Bellevue’s ORs.  His job was to stabilize the shooting victim for the surgeon, but stabilize wasn’t the right word in this case.  The young woman flat-lined twice before the surgeon arrived.“Wash up, Guillermo,” said Dr. Wilson. “I’m going to need your steady hands.”Guillermo Pedro Sanchez was ending his first year as ER intern.  He had already informed Wilson where the gunshot wounds were.  The most serious ones were around her left breast.  Had they done damage to the heart?  The flat-lining indicated that they had.He was in the seventh hour of his first shift.  Unruly black hair and a need for a shave combined with a blood-stained smock made him look like an old-fashioned Italian butcher from an old ethnic neighborhood of New York City, but he had grown up in a rich family in Marblehead, Massachusetts.  A brother and sister had attended Harvard all the way through to MBAs and now worked in the corporate world.  He was the youngest and had attended Tufts; he’d always wanted to work in an ER.  Now he was an intern in one of the busiest.They were soon embroiled in the operation.  The abdominal cavity was filled with blood—a massive leak somewhere threatened this woman’s life.“Let’s do a transfusion,” said Wilson, “and patch tears if we can.”“Is it her heart?” said Sanchez.“I can’t see a damn thing.  Suction!”They worked feverishly.  Desperate minutes became intense hours.***Gaia Papadakis’s last memories were about a dark street near NYU.  She had been a bit tipsy.  After the protest march, they went to a bar to celebrate.  No one was arrested during the protest, but all the same they made the news on all local TV channels.People were now interested in global warming despite naysayers in big corporations and the nation’s capital.  Many were also asking questions about oil spills, fracking, and pollution from power plants.  Her group Clean World tried to guide and coordinate the dialog.Many conservatives supported companies Clean World was protesting against, while progressives were more on the side of protesters when not beholden to corporate donors.  Many energy companies were owned by one huge energy conglomerate, Wilson-Myers Energy Corporation.  Emotions ran high during the protest, but she gave the cops more credit than some co-marchers—the former kept the march peaceful and seemed impartial about whom they hauled away when tempers flared and violence ensued.She had recognized some opposition leaders and activists trying to appeal to spectators; they played on people’s fears, focusing on loss of livelihood if the conglomerate’s companies went under.  She knew their argument was specious—she had written white papers that proved the conglomerate could, in a period of ten years or so, improve their environmental record without losing revenue.  Other white papers showed what would happen to the Earth if conglomerates like Wilson-Myers didn’t change their polluting ways.Most in the crowd, though, ignored the opposition and were friendly to protesters.  She knew Wilson-Myers hated that and the progress environmentalists were making.  The conglomerate was spending money right and left to stop them and writing most of it off to advertising.  That same money, probably even less, could be used to change its bad environmental record.  It was a question of priorities.  Companies spent tons of money trying to “educate the population”—translation: attack science and deny global warming.  And they had sycophants in Washington to push that agenda.At the bar, they had toasted their better-than-average success with the protest.  She left around 2 a.m.  Her small apartment wasn’t far away, so she walked.  She was city and street smart, but her shooter was more efficient than your average gang member or mugger.  An SUV sped by and a shooter sprayed her body with an automatic weapon, leaving her sprawled on the sidewalk and her mind fading into darkness as she still wondered why.***           “We’re in trouble,” said Wilson, glancing at monitors.  “We need to give her an artificial heart, but there’s no time!”            “No repair’s possible?” said Sanchez.            “Let’s try to pull her through,” said Wilson.  “We’re heading for a train wreck here!  Full replacement, ladies and gentlemen!”            More hours of painstaking, mind numbing surgery.  Another cardiac surgeon joined Wilson, and another intern arrived to help Sanchez clamp, suck out fluids, sew stitches, and keep an eye on instruments, although OR nurses also helped in that too.  The team grew; it was a team effort.  Wilson was the quarterback marching his offense down the field with time running out.After nine hours of surgery, they had the victim on an artificial heart.  That would only be the start of her odyssey.  She would now go on a list of patients who needed a heart transplant.  That was another race against time.            “Good work,” Wilson told Sanchez as they were cleaning up.  “You have a fast and sure suture technique.  Maybe you should change to surgery.  By the way, I’m sorry I ignored your questions in there.  I’m afraid I become less professorial when I’m saving someone’s life.”            “No need to apologize,” said Sanchez.  “They were stupid questions.  Her heart was beyond repair.  What chance does she have now?”            Wilson glanced at him, raising a bushy eyebrow.  “Don’t become emotionally involved, Guillermo.  You need to maintain a professional detachment.  There’s only a ten percent chance she’ll make it.  She’s likely to throw a clot, for example, considering circumstances.  And we might not find a donor in time.”            “It seems so unfair.  What is she, mid-twenties?”            “If she’s more than thirty, I’d be surprised.  She pissed someone off enough she might as well have been a grunt in the Middle East invading a terrorist camp without a gun or body armor.  Yeah, it’s unfair.  You can be a recluse most of your life but still have a truck mow you down crossing a street in Manhattan.  What about a surgery internship, if I can change the subject?”            “I can help more in the ER.”  Sanchez smiled.  “I’ll have lots of practice in Manhattan.”            “Are you just afraid of overspecialization?  You’d be an ER surgeon soon enough.  You can help sicker people as a cardiac surgeon on ER call.”            “I’ll think about it.  But you can’t determine my skills just from one session.  I didn’t do very much.”            “Often enough you provided a skilled third pair of hands when I needed them.”  Wilson looked around and lowered his voice.  “That other intern was all thumbs.  Between you and me, he’s not going to last long in this intense environment.”  He raised his hands and flexed his fingers, watching water drip off.  “I’ll take these any day over a robot’s.”            Sanchez thought that was a bit egotistical but said nothing.***“You’re too young to be a doctor,” Gaia Papadakis said, her voice a raspy whisper.  Sanchez had just removed the tube from her throat.“You’re awake.  You’ve been through a lot.”  He took her pulse again the old-fashioned way.  “A bit weak.”  His thick eyebrows arched.  “How do you feel?”“I feel like I was run over by a subway train.”“Something comparable on the street and right here in the ER.  You’re lucky to be alive.  You were in good shape, though, and that helped.”“I work out when I can.  Gym and jogging.  Do you work out?”“When I can.  Don’t talk too much.”  He showed her the call button.  “If you have a problem, use that.  Someone will come running.  Don’t be timid with the morphine pump either.  Control your pain.”  He waved toward the door.  “I have some other patients to see.  It was a busy night in the ER apparently.”“What happened?”“Other than your being shot, I don’t know.  About that: when you’re up to it, NYPD will want to interview you.  Don’t worry about it, though.  They have to go through me first.”Nice smile, she thought.  God, he’s young and handsome.  Where’s he been all my life?  He had beautiful curly locks like her Zorba.  She wanted Alessandro by her side holding her hand now that the doctor had reminded her of him.“Did you participate in my surgery?”  He nodded.  “Say, can you hand me my purse?  I’d like to check my smart phone.”  He handed her the purse, watched her rummage around, but turned to the PA system’s speaker over the door when his name was called.“I have to go.”  She nodded, flashing a tired smile.She watched him leave, deciding it might be worth being shot in order to meet him.  Sorry, Alessandro, you’re thousands of miles away.            Hours later in midafternoon, she woke from a deep sleep feeling panic.  She knew something was wrong.  She took her last gasp as she fought her descent into sweet oblivion.
About the Author

Steve Moore is an ex-scientist who has lived abroad and seen a lot of the world. His fiction reflects his interest in the human condition and how good people everywhere react and fight evil. He is now a full-time author who lives with his wife in New Jersey, but he has resided in Colombia and Massachusetts and other states in the U.S. He’s a native Californian. He loves to hear from readers and authors.

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MY HIGHLANDER HUSBAND by Nancy Pennick

MY HIGHLANDER HUSBANDThe Clan MacLaren series, book 1
by Nancy PennickGenre: Historical Romance


Lady Juliet Kingston did not expect to find love in the Scottish Highlands. Sent by the king to marry a laird’s son, she had no expectations until she met the strong and stubborn Ross MacLaren. He won her heart, erasing her feelings for the man she left behind. Her happiness is short-lived as the threat of war becomes real, and she is reclaimed by her former love.



EXCERPT #1

“In two days, we will be wed.” He took her hand. “Do ye think ye may come to love me?”

Love? No one had ever spoken so directly to her. “Um.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I just met you.”

“Aye, I ken.” He placed his hand around the back of her neck. “And so, I ask permission to kiss ye.”

“Kiss me?” Juliet’s mouth went dry. She wished she still had the glass of sweet wine in her hand. You are going to marry him. You have kissed John. You know what it is like. “Yes, you may.”

He leaned in closer. The other hand went around her waist, bringing her to him. She felt his breath on her cheek, and the scent of ale was pleasant. His lips touched her face so lightly she jumped.

“I willna hurt ye,” he whispered.

Juliet’s heart fluttered as she looked into his eyes. Green pools of summer, ones she could dive into and never come out. She nodded and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the coat. She opened her mouth slightly to tell him she was all right, but instead found his lips on hers.

Ross tightened his grip on her, pulling her so close she fought for breath, yet she did not want him to stop. His lips felt soft against hers as he pushed her mouth open wider. She felt the tip of his tongue on hers. John had never kissed her like that. John!

Juliet pulled back, head spinning. Ross did not let go, still holding her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head, nuzzling her hair. “Ye taste of summer and honey.”

“I think you should give credit to the wine.” Juliet tried to laugh but could only think of the kiss. She wanted another.

“I will take ye to yer room.” Ross offered his arm. “Because if I dinna, we may have to marry tonight.”

EXCERPT #2

“I feel so guilty, Eva.” Juliet looked up with tears in her eyes. “I am betraying him and our love.”

“No, you are not. John is in England. You are here, betrothed to another. I understand you love John, but you must forget him.” Eva put the finishing touches on Juliet’s hair for the wedding ceremony.

“No, you do not understand,” Juliet wailed. “I feel guilty that I could betray him so easily. I think I could fall in love with Ross. If that is true, was I ever really in love with John?” She covered her face. “I am a horrible, shallow person.”

Eva pulled Juliet’s hands away from her face. “You are kind and loving, Juliet. You would not hurt a flea.” She patted the hand she held. “Maybe Ross was meant to be. He is quite handsome if I may say so.”

“It is not just his looks. He is kind and gentle. He has made sure I have not been alone for the last two days. He spent most of that time with me, showing me the land, introducing me to the people and talking about his life.”

“That is an extraordinary man.” Eva pulled the wedding dress from the wardrobe. “You are lucky.”

“And John? What do I do about him?”

“Be grateful for the time you spent with him. He is part of your past. Ross is your future.”



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After a great career in teaching, Nancy found a second calling as a writer. Born and raised in Northeast Ohio, she currently resides in Mentor, OH. Ohio is her home, but she loves to travel the U.S. Now Scotland is on her bucket list as a place she’d like to visit. Nancy is married and has one son.

Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon


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Fight For Me By Rebecca Chase

 Title: Fight For MeBy: Rebecca ChasePublication Date: November 25, 2016Genre: Erotic Romance#fightformebookblitz This short story is available as part of the Crave For Me anthology or as a stand alone story here. It is over 17,000 words and contains sexual situations and language only suitable for those aged 18+ Ever had one of those men in your life that you want no matter what? They’ve spent a lifetime in your head when what you really want is to have them wanting every part of you. This is a standalone short story about that guy and a women who's had a crush on him for too long. Her crush might finally be the one who takes her to all the places she's desired and give her the romance she's longed for. Jules finally comes face to face with the one man she’s been avoiding for years; her brother’s best friend, her first kiss and the guy who taught her what lust is. The soldier is home on leave for a wedding but where does Jules fit in to this? Joe might want her more than he’s ever let on or maybe he just wants to get some release before he heads back to barracks. Is he just another bad boy who will break her heart before she gives him his marching orders or will he set her body on fire as they engage in a battle of wills and pleasure? Amazon US - http://amzn.to/2mqCPT7Amazon UK - https://goo.gl/TE0qdBSmashwords - https://goo.gl/TiycgeiBooks - https://goo.gl/hiYdnc
Rebecca Chase is an English rose with a taste for sex and romance. She started life as a superhero but found she liked stockings more than tights so writing erotic romance was the obvious next step. When she’s not busy going on amusing and thrilling dates with sexy suitors, she’s whacking shuttle cocks, dancing the night away, watching rugby men battling with balls and finding interesting story ideas in everyday life.Social Media LinksGoodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15019280.Rebecca_Chase Website - http://www.rebeccahchase.com/ Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/RebeccaHChaseAuthor Twitter -  @rebeccahchase Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/rebeccahchase/

Without Regret By Cat Mason

Blog TourWithout RegretBy Cat Mason


Doormat. Beside that word in the dictionary was a picture of me. But, not anymore. Ironically, the decision to take my life back was in large part because I found out my Dad may lose his. With everything changing all at once, my world is spinning out of control. Then, when I least expect it, he turns it upside down. Ray Mitchell. This story is not always going to be happy, or pretty. It is raw, and sometimes brutally painful. At my lowest moments I come face to face with who I really am. The road I take is broken more than it is smooth, but there is an unexplainable beauty in being able to live your life without regret.

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Cat Mason is a thirty year old, married mother of three. When she isn't writing; she is spending time with her kiddos or reading. She was born and raised outside of St. Louis, Missouri, just over the Mississippi River in Granite City, Illinois. Cat writes romance of all kinds with twists of humor.Email / Facebook / Goodreads / Amazon / Twitter / Pinterest

Pierce My Heart by Kelsey Jensen

It all began with a choice...
Anna Pierce had, by all accounts, a blessed life. She grew up in a home full of laughter, love, and support. Where the biggest problem she faced (other than how to deal with her family's crazy antics) was deciding her plans for college. Little did she know the ugly path her choice would drag her down.A choice that left her free-falling...Fast forward five years. Her life still held that same laughter, love, and support, but it was no longer full. A shadow hung overhead, waiting. Always threatening.Until he caught her...Jake Taylor stormed into her life and turned her world upside down. He made her feel things she'd hidden away from; made her face life again. But, most importantly, he helped her find the light.And gave her happily ever after...*This book contains adult content (lots of swearing, a little drinking, and some sexy times) and is intended for readers 18 and older***This is book one in a series, but each book will be a STANDALONE with a new couple. NO cliffhanger**Trigger Warning: Physical abuse
About the BookPierce My Heart
by Kelsey Jensen
Series
Women of Willowbrook #1
Genre
Adult
Contemporary Romance
Publisher
Independent
Publication Date
August 9, 2016


About Kelsey JensenKelsey is a romance hoarder, a Bob Seger groupie, and a die-hard fan of all things leather, fringe, silver, classy, and full of sparkles.She was never a writer in the normal sense, but she was always a creator of stories. From Barbie's to The Sims, Kelsey made sure they lived…interesting lives. Summer of '15, Marcus Mumford's voice crooning in her ear, a character started to speak to Kelsey and refused to let go. This character put her on a path of following a dream she never even knew she'd had until it came true.When she's not lost in the world of Willowbrook and all its inhabitants, exploring a new planet, or finding new places to lose herself in characters, she can be found deep in the world of other authors, trying out her baking skills on her family and friends, learning--then tweaking--new recipes from the Food Network, immersing herself in good music, enjoying the California sunshine with her two fur babies, relaxing and cackling like a loon with the people close to her, or disappearing as she binge-watches seasons in a day on Netflix.Kelsey's Links

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Made Maleen by Jeanne St. James

"Just let me love you..."
When Maleen King’s father catches her naked in the hay loft with her high school sweetheart, he sends the eighteen-year-old away to receive a college education and rise above the humble beginnings of an Idaho dairy farm. Now fourteen years later, Mal comes home to run the farm after the death of her father. The stress of a disastrous marriage and being a NYC stock broker made her long to return to a simple life.Braydon Daniels, devastated when Mal’s father sent her thousands of miles away, has thought about her every day since. Now, over a decade later, he finds himself alone, divorced, and beaten down by the trauma of his broken marriage. When Mal comes back to town for her father’s funeral, he realizes the feelings he once had for her are just as strong. There’s one little snag, though. His ex-wife is the woman Mal has hated her whole life. And they have a child together.Despite the struggle to recover from their past relationships, the undeniable attraction between them still exists. Can they rekindle the passion they once had?About the BookMade Maleenby Jeanne St. James
Series
n/a; standalone
Genre
Adult
Erotic Contemporary Romance
Publisher
Independent
Publication Date
March 1, 2017
 
Excerpt From Made Maleen
About Jeanne St. JamesJEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only 13 started writing when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.Jeanne's Links



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THE GAME BEGINS by Victoria Danann

THE GAME BEGINSR. Caine High School
by Victoria Danann Genre: YA Sci-Fi Fantasy Myths


When it came to the attention of the old ones that their creations, the Earth gods, had been playing games at the expense of humankind for millennia, they put a stop to it. But the rebellious gods were far too addicted to their games to give them up. After several summit meetings, they voted to use their own children as players and locate the playing field in the most treacherous environment in the known universe. High school.

To make it even more interesting, they would strip their children of their memories and withhold the rules of the game. The players believed they were ordinary kids until they were transferred to R. Caine High School. When odd things begin to happen, the players gradually realize they have special gifts or attributes. But that doesn’t mean they can’t die.

My name is Ever Moore.

I know. It makes me wince every time I say it. When I’m eighteen, I plan to have it legally changed to something that doesn’t make people laugh. But right now I’m stuck.

My dad thinks puns are the highest form of humor. He calls it ‘word play’. That’s right. I’m the spawn of nerds. My dad creates video games. My mother is an ethics professor at UCLA who thinks the battle between good and evil begins at home.

If you want to know just how weird it can get at the Thanksgiving table, I can go one better. My grandfather was a big deal rock star in the seventies. You wouldn’t know the name of the band. So there’s no point in name dropping. After a visit, he exits with a two-finger peace salute like all the other well-adjusted hippie grandparents, but he doesn’t say, “Peace.”

He says, “Rock steady.”

Ugh!

My family is big on manners. They’re too strict to let me say what I think, especially about Buzz’s love life. My grandfather doesn’t want to be called Grandpa or Grandad or Gramps or anything close to normal. Oh no. He wants to be called ‘Buzz’. I have no idea why. That is not his name.

Anyway, the best protest I can mount is rolling my eyes. I keep trying to get his attention and roll my eyes back further into my head when he does the ‘rock steady’ thing, but he will not be deterred.

Anyway I was leading a completely typical and deliciously angsty teenage life in Austin, Texas when my parents were suddenly offered jobs in the LA area at the same time. It was weird, but weird is part of my normal. Always has been.

Since my grandad, the rocker, still lives in LA with the latest girlfriend who’s barely legal - she’s two years older than I am and her name is Charmin, yes, like the toilet paper. If that was my name, I’d have the decency to go by something like Charm, which would really be making lemonade from lemmons. But not Charmin. I don’t think she’s bright enough to understand what people are thinking whenever they say her name. Anyway, with the jobs and the fact that ‘Buzz’ lives there, moving seemed like a good idea.

To them.

~~~

Now here we are in beautiful Oxnard. Yeah. I know. It sounds like somebody was in the middle of a sneeze when a cough barked out. I try looking it up to see what an oxnard is. Of course that was a circular exercise; ‘see city in California’. So I try ‘nard’. Closest thing is spikenard which is an herb. At that point I lose interest.

I’m stuck with Oxnard and, at least for the time being, Oxnard is stuck with me. So here’s a rundown of the good, the bad, and the boring.

The good news is that we managed to get a boat dock house. It’s on the water, but not on the beach. No extra space. There are three bedrooms. Guess who gets the ‘master’? That left two little rooms for my brother and me to fight over. I pulled rank - I’m four years older - and got the one facing the front. That means the water view.

Among other noteworthy travel facts, Oxnard is in a valley between the Santa Monica Mountains and the Los Padres, which is a cluster of mountain ranges. I’m told that you could be surfing at the beach while looking at snow-covered mountains. Put that in the kind of cool column.

Now for the bad. The house is tiny compared to where we lived in Austin. It’s going to be an adjustment.

As far as boring, I know no one here. As in NO ONE!

The only thing that could be worse than that is the fact that on Monday I’m going to have to walk into a new high school. Did I mention that I know NO ONE? Not even my brother will be in my school, which, okay, I admit I’m thankful for that because, if things could be worse, that would be it.

I’ve seen it. The school, I mean.

When nobody was there, I walked around the grounds with my dog, Elke. She’s a Norwegian Elkhound, really smart, really pretty, and really sure she doesn’t have to do what I say.

The school is kind of a gothic monstrosity that couldn’t be more out of place in SoCal. It looks like a Wizard of Oz tornado picked it up in Crumbling, Maine and dropped it in Oxnard.

I imagine the ground shaking when it hit. Boom.

How do I feel about starting a new school in two days?

As a sophomore?

Let me put it this way. Last summer my parents decided we were going to take a family trip to England. They said the educational value was astronomical. It would be like a field trip on steroids. Their words. Not mine.

So we went. But we didn’t go like normal families and stay in hotels. Of course not.

We stayed in family hostels. What’s that, you ask? Imagine going to camp with other families and sleeping in big bunk rooms with people of all ages, both sexes, some of whom make noises in their sleep that you wouldn’t think were possible for humans.

Don’t even ask about the shared bath.

Anyway, we went on one of those Bloody Tower tours in London where they trot you past all the torture tools and devices. Our guide tried to give cryptic descriptions about how they were used, because of his perception that my brother is of a tender and sensitive young age. The guide kept glancing at my brother nervously like he was afraid the information would scar the boy’s precious psyche, imprinting evil on the tabula rosa. On the contrary my brother probably invented some of those devices himself in past lifetimes.

The point I’m getting to is this. Given the choice, I’d gladly choose the rack over having to walk into a new high school as a sophomore where I know NOBODY! But this is the real world and I don’t have a choice.

I’m feeling sorry enough for myself to consider curling up into a ball when my brother barges into my room without knocking. “What the…? We moved here three weeks ago, Never. You’ve had time to unpack. You’re supposed to be the neat one. Miss Smart Perfect Suck up.” He punctuates that with a perfectly disgusting sucking noise.

Following his line of sight to the bed, the chair, the desk, I’m forced to agree that clothes draped everywhere looks like a breakdown straight ahead. Naturally I counter by going on the offensive.“Nobody invited you in. Try knocking! I could have been getting dressed.”

“So what? You’ve got nothing that interests me.”

“Idiot. It’s called privacy. I deserve to have some in my OWN ROOM!”

“What’s this about?” He waves his arm to indicate the trunk show.

“I’m deciding what to wear the first day.”

He laughs that unbelievably aggravating laugh that never fails to make me want to pitch him out a second story window. By the way, there is one close by. It draws my gaze and gives life to my fantasy of hearing him scream on the way down.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” he asks, wearing his smarmiest smuggest sneer face. “Well, sit at the feet of the master, little girl, and I’ll tell you how to conquer first day fever and win.” He sounds like an infomercial for a self-help guru. Maybe he’ll do okay in SoCal. “When you walk in, look for the biggest toughest-looking girl around. Then you walk straight up to her and punch her in the mouth.”

No. He’s not going to do okay in SoCal.

“Levi. This is California. They have zero tolerance for that kind of thing.” He shrugs, completely unconcerned. I put my hand to my head. “Wait. Wait. I’m getting a premonition. Yes. Yes. I can see it now. Mom and Dad are going to get a call from your vice principal within ten minutes of dropping you off at school. He’s going to tell them that they’re raising a barbarian who’s prison bound.”

“Just telling you. It sets the tone for the entire year. Your life can be bumpy or smooth. Take it from me. Your barbarian is my bad ass.” He holds a finger up. “Oh. Did I mention the part about run like hell after you punch Alice Assault in the mouth?”

I blink at him, wondering for the multi-thousandth time which one of us was adopted. It was probably me. “Say your name slowly.”

He rolls his eyes, but gets the message and leaves.

My brother’s name is Levi. We’re not Hebrew. My parents just liked the jeans which, I guess, must have been cool at one time. If he says his name slowly, it sounds like, “Leave. I.”

If you’re thinking that’s mean, don’t even go there. He gets back at me by calling me Never and cawing like Edgar Allen Poe’s raven, especially if I have friends around.

Naturally he leaves the bedroom door standing open just to irritate me. I slam it, hear my mother’s faint shout saying don’t slam the door, lock it, and turn back to the impossible task of figuring out what people at this alien outpost consider first day of school clothes. If only I could…

That’s when I realize I might get a preview into life at R. Caine High School. I open the laptop and pull up images.

Why didn’t I think of this before?

Track and field. Lots of running and jumping enthusiasm then.

Football. Concussion anyone?

Basketball. No comment.

A CPR dummy. How many times has that thing been kissed?

Softball. Hmmm. Maybe.

Graduation. Gold robes. Ew.

And finally, a photo of kids swarming a large paved area, not wearing athletic gear or some kind of club tee shirt. Whether they were coming or going I can’t tell. The main thing is I can see the clothes and they aren’t all that different from what I’m used to. In fact, the picture could have been taken at my old school. Sigh.

So alright. I can do this. All I have to do is pick out something that makes me feel reasonably attractive. It’s the first day of school. Not the end of the world.

Right?

Right?

Lots of people have been through this and survived.

Yes.

I know I’m taking that on faith, but since I haven’t heard urban myths about kids going to new schools and never being heard from again, I’m going with that assumption. Or trying to.

~~~

Who am I kidding?

Doomsday looms.

I mean you wouldn’t think a person could actually fear lunch. Not the food, of course. Although some might say fearing the food made in the cafeteria is a test of Darwin’s theory. I don’t think Darwin’s theory applies to humans anymore. Modern medicine is pretty good at interfering with the impending doom and saving the day no matter how badly we botch genetics.

It probably seems like I’m obsessing over the word ‘doom’, but it’s just that kind of weekend. The kind that will live in infamy forever.

What was I saying? Oh, yeah. I was talking about the rites of lunch. The quest for that magical place where you can be part of a herd of the like-minded; meaning people who understand you well enough that you can talk to each other, eat together, gossip about whatever, and kid yourself into thinking they don’t gossip about you when you’re not there.

I look at the clock. Again.

The first day of my sophomore year should be a celebration of not being a freshman anymore. But that’s for kids who get to stay put. Not for people like myself who’ve been forcibly relocated, that means moved against my will, to the other side of the country.

By this same time tomorrow I’ll know if my quest was successful.

Will I be able to locate the magical lunch herd on the first day?

Have I been a good person?

Do I deserve that fate?

Why yes. Yes, I do.




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New York Times bestselling author of eighteen romances including paranormal, scifi, fantasy, contemporary, and teen. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR the past FOUR YEARS IN A ROW. This past year two of her series took the top two places and two of her books took first and second place Paranormal Romance of the Year category. - Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.

Her paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and, occasionally, enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, werewolves, hybrids, psychics, or past life therapists. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners... usually.

The rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.

Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.

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