Category: Cover Reveal

Synopsis:

HE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE HIMSELF

David Moorehouse has spent his life hiding behind masks. Nice guy. Best friend. Reverend’s kid. After finding his father dead on the floor, he’s stripped of his job at the family church and his identity as the quiet, nice guy. The life he knew is over, and he doesn’t know what to do next.

HE KNOWS ANGER BETTER THAN ANYONE

Ricky Slade is itching for a fight. By the time he meets David, he’s struggling to save his business, his best friend, his drug-addict brother, and his own sanity. He’s got no patience for his business partner’s judgmental brother showing up and getting in his face.

Their angry heat turns into a fiery inferno, but Ricky’s fresh off a bad breakup, and David is getting guilt-tripped by his family and his ex. Every time they fight, they fall into bed, but will that be enough when things around them come apart?

Excerpt:

“You know—” Dave made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind. I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t want to know.” He threw his stuff in the rear of Ricky’s cab, then turned to jab a stiff four fingers into the center of Ricky’s chest. “Least we can agree on the dickhead thing. I mean, who shows up to a funeral with a firearm?”

Ricky didn’t show up to funerals at all when he could help it. Easier to avoid acknowledging death that way. “Need I remind, you tried to turn away your own brother? That sort of potential was exactly why I brought the thing.”

Ooh. Jumping jaw muscles and gritting teeth and everything now. “He’s only my brother by blood. I hardly know him.”

Ungrateful punk. “He’s the closest thing you got. He deserved to be at that funeral much as you did. ‘Sides, he was born first.”

Dave advanced on Ricky again, hot breath puffing and panting. “My mama’s heart can’t take that kind of shock. I was trying to keep the peace.”

Ricky matched the threat in Dave’s posture. “The person whose behavior was shocking, Church Boy, was yours.” He licked his lips slowly, grinning at the way Dave’s pupils got smaller and larger and smaller again, like he couldn’t decide whether lust or pissed-as-hell was winning in this fight of theirs.

Ricky himself had adrenaline swirling through his veins and a tornado in his belly. Man, this shit was better than a third ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl “I mean damn, any more heated and you and I coulda wound up going to the dirt right there in front of everybody. Bet that woulda really given your poor mama something to— fuck.”

David growled and gripped Ricky’s shoulders, hauling him front-first against the side of the truck. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” His breath beat harsh and ragged against Ricky’s ear.

With what air hadn’t been squeezed outta Ricky’s lungs, he laughed at Dave again. Was that the intelligent option? Hell no. This dude had the markers for being at least three colors of crazy. Ricky didn’t back down though, so he’d push until the other guy did.

Or until someone got hurt.

He’d have said no way could this guy kick his ass, not with his glasses and wiry frame, but Dave handled Ricky’s body with a reasonable amount of strength and know-how. Not enough for a total ass-kicking, maybe, but enough to impress. Speaking of impressive…. “If you think I’m gonna be intimidated by the anaconda you’re rubbin’ against my backside, Church Boy, you got another thing coming.” He sucked in a breath. “Gotta tell you though. If fucking in the parking lot is your thing, you really gotta give a guy some advance warning. I would’ve parked in an unlit area.”

Ricky’s most-likely unexpected response must’ve startled Dave into loosening his hands. Ricky twisted Dave’s arm and turned them both, pushing Dave’s back into the truck and Ricky’s fists into Dave’s chest. “See, that’s what I figured,” Ricky murmured with his lips a hair from one mother of a betrayed sneer. “Damn shame, too.”

Dave narrowed his eyes. “What’s a shame?”

Ricky smiled slightly, shaking his head. “You’re all bark, Church Boy.”

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The Muse Synopsis:
Release: Summer 2014

What if the truth about a famous painting was not what it’s been told to be? What if it was not even the original work and a different painting had inspired its creation? The story of a painting… The motivation behind the work, Flaming June—Romanticist painter, Lord Frederic Leighton’s magnum opus—a woman sleeping in a chair. Hauntingly beautiful, but with its inspiration locked away in the mystery of times past.

1811…
Burdened with family skeletons and agonizing guilt, an unwilling Lord Rothvale, one Graham Everley, returns from a long sojourn in Ireland to attend to the obligations awaiting him in England. The last thing he imagines to find is his destiny, but find her he does. Imogene Byron-Cole, a girl as lovely as her past is tragic. Graham can’t walk away from her, and so he marries her instead, in spite of an increasingly tangled web of troubles that threaten to destroy the very foundation of his entire existence.

As Graham and Imogene start out on their journey together, they express their love through a series of portraits. The art ensnares them completely, and in the end, becomes their salvation, bearing them through their deepest pain of loss, and inspiring a masterwork.

[This will be book one of a three part saga in the Rothvale Legacy Historical Prequel series.]

Goodreads

‘Playing In the Rain’
By Jane Harvey-Berrick

Synopsis:

Ava Lawton can’t believe her run of bad luck. It’s supposed to be an exciting time in her life: fresh out of college, living in a new state, with a new job, and away from her family at last.

But when she’s forced to quit her job, everything falls apart quickly. Suddenly, she’s alone in a crowd, with no one to turn to.

At her lowest point, a stranger gives her a message that brings her hope.

Now is the time to live life her own way.

Now is the time to choose to be happy.

And maybe it’s time to let a beautiful stranger be part of her life.

“Can summer love last a lifetime?”

Excerpt:

I’d never felt so miserable. And it was still raining.
That’s when I saw him.
A blur of movement caught my eye as the rain on my windshield gave the illusion that I was underwater. He was running, which I suppose is what people do when they’re caught in the rain. A huge furry dog was running next to him, matching his long, even strides, both of them drenched and dripping, their feet splashing through puddles, raindrops running off their faces.
His white t-shirt had become transparent and clung to his muscled chest, and I could see the rapid rise and fall of every breath. He raised his hand, the tendons flexing in his forearm as he pushed his dripping black hair out of his eyes. And then he’d passed me, leaving a glimpse of his tight butt in a pair of running shorts, and long muscled legs striding out. All of those things caught my attention, but what totally captured and held it so I couldn’t look away was the huge smile of pleasure on his face.
He was soaked to the skin and smiling so wide I could see his even white teeth, grinning like a loon, like he was enjoying the rain.

TO BE RELEASED: JULY 14th

Celebrity fashion designer, Harper Jennings is only months away from turning thirty, and her dream of living a happily ever after has yet to come true.

You can pre-order the book at iBooks

Then go ahead and add to your Goodreads list as well.

Steph Nuss was born and raised in rural Kansas, where she currently resides with her black Labrador son named Gunner. She grew up with a passion for reading and writing. When she’s not immersed into the land of fiction, she enjoys listening to music that came before her time, watching movies and reruns of her favorite shows, and hanging out with her family and friends. She also has a bachelor’s degree in psychology that she’ll never use…unless she’s profiling her characters of course.

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Release Date

June 29th

 Genre

Contemporary Fighter Romance

 Goodreads Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22306838-grace-for-drowning

Blurb

Hope is a dangerous thing. I know that more than most. Everything good I’ve ever had has been stolen from me — my friends, my fiance, my innocence, some would say even my sanity. All I have left is the cage. Fighting is the only thing that eases the ache inside me even a little. It’s the only thing that keeps the bottle at bay.

I was content to ride out my life alone. I was done dreaming that things could be better. But then I met Grace, and suddenly, all I could do was dream.

She’s battling those same demons, only she’s losing. I don’t want to care, but something about her calls to me. That pain in her eyes is so sharp, so familiar. I know it’s only a matter of time before it pulls her below the surface.

I can help her, and maybe, just maybe, she can help me too. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’ve got hope, and that scares the hell out of me.

This is a full length novel with no cliffhanger. There will be a sequel, but this book resolves all the story elements by the end. It is written with dual perspectives, so both Logan and Grace get their say.

Excerpt (Grace POV):

There were fresh tears rising behind my eyes now, and this time they weren’t for me. I felt like the world’s biggest bitch. “I…I’m sorry, Logan. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, seemingly not trusting himself to speak. I couldn’t blame him. That scene was more horrific than anything I’d experienced in my life. I was struck by an immense sense of shame. How much death had Logan seen? How many friends had been ripped away from him before his eyes? It didn’t bear thinking about. And here I was crying over one lost life. I probably looked so childish. If Logan could find a way to overcome his pain, then so could I.

“How do you stop it destroying you?” I asked.

“By acknowledging you don’t control the world. We all makes choices. Some of them are good, others are a fucking disaster, but very few things are the result of a single action. What if our CO had sent us to another village that day? Or the insurgent leader was slow with his dinner and the attack came five minutes later? What if Ace never enlisted at all? There are a million variables to everything. Blame isn’t black and white. I know I contributed to his death in some small way, but I also know I’m not responsible. You need to realise that too.” He stepped closer and reached out to brush my face where a single tear had leaked down. “There’s a girl in here somewhere who deserves a second chance, and you owe it to her to make that happen.”

The tenderness in his voice filled me with warmth. I stared up at him, everything inside me in tatters. I hurt for me and for him, for Tom and for Ace. There was so much pain, and right then it felt like we were both ready to drown in it. I desperately wanted something to cut through all that, if only for a moment.

There was barely a foot between our faces now, and slowly but surely, that space was shrinking further still. His hand lingered on my cheek, his eyes locked to mine. I could feel the heat of him enveloping my skin like steam, his scent swelling in my nostrils. There was something stirring in my stomach, something hungry and desperate and lonely. I knew I needed to look away, to break the spell of that moment, but his sheer presence held me in a trance.

He stood poised over me for what felt like a lifetime, gaze hungry, breath trembling, fingers dancing tiny circles across my skin, then with a low growl he pulled back.

Author Bio

Maya Cross is a writer who enjoys making people blush. Growing up with a mother who worked in a book store, she read a lot from a very young age, and soon enough picked up a pen of her own. She’s tried her hands at a whole variety of genres including horror, science fiction, and fantasy, but funnily enough, it was the sexy stuff that stuck. She has now started this pen name as an outlet for her spicier thoughts (they were starting to overflow). She likes her heroes strong but mysterious, her encounters sizzling, and her characters true to life

She believes in writing familiar narratives told with a twist, so most of her stories will feel comfortable, but hopefully a little unique. Whatever genre she’s writing, finding a fascinating concept is the first, and most important step.

The Alpha Group is her first attempt at erotic romance.

When she’s not writing, she’s playing tennis, trawling her home town of Sydney for new inspiration, and drinking too much coffee.

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Boring Beth Lynn has always lived up to her nickname… until she wakes up in a hotel bed next to a sexy as sin state senator she re-connected with at a wedding the previous night.

The biggest problem? She can’t seem to remember anything about the night before except for crying into a box of cookies, and she’s pretty sure Grandma Nadine slipped something in her drink. And what should have been a one night stand turns into a six day adventure when Grandma whisks them off to Hawaii to save them from the ensuing media firestorm.

Jace isn’t looking for commitment — he believes he made that clear when he left the wedding with Beth. Then again, he can’t remember much of anything other than the way her skin felt beneath his hands. Now he’s stuck with her at some lame couple’s retreat and trying his hardest to fight the attraction only a woman like Beth could invoke.

He doesn’t think it can get any worse.

But one spider attack… A donkey ride from hell… And an unfortunate episode with Viagra tea — and there’s one thing Jace knows for sure: He should never have agreed to Grandma Nadine’s suggestion in the first place.
Because if this isn’t paradise, and it isn’t a vacation — that only leaves one option.

Survival.

But to make it through alive… they might lose their hearts in the process.

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!

You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com

EMAIL ME: rachelvandykenauthor@gmail.com

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The #1 New York Times bestseller…

♥Thin Love – Excerpt♥

She doesn’t stop him when he kisses her. She lets herself take in the heat of his massive body, lets it work over her skin. She inhales him—his scent, the hot rub of his tongue against hers, along her bottom lip. At first, she thinks she won’t react; that she’ll push back the sensation, ignore how sweet he tastes, how hard he feels against her. But then he holds her arms, leans into her until her back rests against the brick wall behind her and Keira is lost.

Kona still makes low groans in his throat when he kisses her; still has the softest lips, the most demanding, wide tongue.

She can’t help herself. He’s an addiction, her favorite drug. She wants a hit. She wants a million hits of him.

Her hands work up his arms, his immense shoulders and his groaning deepens, becomes a growl of pleasure when she returns his attentions. Their mouths aren’t frantic, but they do match each other. He pushes, she pulls, like always, like habit, and it is a delicious drugging dance; one she didn’t know she’d missed.

She feels the swift lick of disappointment when Kona pulls back, but it disappears with his fingers holding her face and the tips smoothing just over her cheekbones.

“My dirty little rascal,” he says, but he doesn’t return her smile, seems struck by how close they are standing, how easy this has been, to fall back into old habits. It was returning…their reactions to one another were primal, instinctual. Un-fucking-avoidable.

The song ends, but Kona hasn’t stopped examining her face. His breath is still hot and panting over her cheeks. It would be easy, so fucking easy, to let him consume her. Every touch is a recall of all the dangerous, desperate emotions Kona sparked in her. Every look dulls her memory, makes her forget how he hurt her, how he broke the promises he swore he’d always keep.

Kona leans in again, somehow moving closer, another hit that will edge her toward overdose and she stops him. The rational part of Keira’s mind pushes back the sensation of his touch and the embers are extinguished.

“Wait.”

He pauses, but doesn’t move away from her, doesn’t move his fingers from her skin.

“Wildcat, come on.”

“What are we doing?” Keira knows that expression. It hasn’t changed in sixteen years. Kona’s face is calm, but he frowns, forehead wrinkling in his agitation and Keira stops another attempt of his lips against her mouth. She pushes him back, palm flat against that tempting chest. “How’d this happen?”

Kona’s shoulders sag and finally, her skin is free of his touch.

“Memory lane,” he says.

“That’s a dangerous place.”

“If you say so.”

“I can’t do this with you.” She takes a breath. “I can’t ever do this with you again.”

His anger isn’t quick, not the instant snap of frustration she’d always known from him, but there is no humor on his face and despite her small rejection, he hasn’t moved his arms from the brick behind her. “Why the hell not?”

“I told you. We were not good together. I can’t…” Another slow breath and Keira tries to calm, to ignore the sweet scent of his skin. “I won’t be like that again.”

Too easy, she thinks, reminding herself how effortlessly Kona consumes her. Moth to flame, eager to die in the fire. She hated who she was with him, most days. She hated that she forgot good sense, any smidgeon of reason when he was around her. She didn’t like who she’d been at eighteen and it was that girl, that unbalanced, obsessed girl, that Keira had been running from all these years. She wouldn’t let that girl return, not now, not even for Kona.

When she slips out of the cage of his impossibly large arms, Kona reacts, old habits flirting to the surface. He grabs her arm and for a quick second, Keira feels her teenage self return. His fingers are hot on her bicep, licking heat, anger, passion, through her limbs and Keira fears the sensation, hates that she loves it so much, that she’d missed it more than she wants to admit.

Just like that, she’s ready to react, to fight and it takes all Keira’s strength to repress that inclination. “Don’t…”And at her small warning, Kona jerks back, hands up as though she burned him. “You see what I mean? Three weeks and it’s starting already.”

“I’m sorry.” Keira thinks that he might be telling the truth. He fans his fingers through his hair, eyes rounded as though he can’t believe how he’d reacted. “Please,” Kona says, taking a tentative step forward, voice easy, calm. “Don’t leave.”

She doesn’t want to see that expression on his face; the one that tells her he’s different, that his overwhelming presence is no longer dangerous. He’d fooled her once. He won’t get a second chance. A quick shake of her head and Keira turns away from him, tries to focuses on a plane above shooting away from the city, wishing she was on it. Kona’s breath warms her neck and Keira cringes at how much she’d missed this—him, her, the heat, the passion and it is like refusing the best high she’s ever had. She wants it so desperately, wants to forget all his sins just for a moment, just for one small taste of how good he made her body feel. “If I don’t walk away right now, I’m going to kiss you again.”

Kona’s low voice is heady, firm and Keira has to tighten her eyes closed when his fingertip slides down her spine. “I want you to.”

“I can’t. We…no, we can’t.”

“You’re scared,” he says, mouth hot against her neck.

“I’m petrified.” Despite herself, Keira leans back, lets Kona wrap his hands around her waist.

“I would never hurt you. You know I’d never touch you, not like that.”

No, he never had. Not once. She’d slapped him and punched him because she was angry, because they were twisted, because they both got off on it. But Kona had never returned the favor. His wounds cut deeeper.

“You’re no good for me. You were never good for me.” Keira turns, takes a step back so she can look at his face, so she can see how determined he is to change her mind. “I was a crazy person with you. Obsessed. I can’t relive the past.”

“I’m not the same person.” Kona pulls her forward, gripping her waist in his too large hands until their bodies are flush, until Keira can feel the hard, delicious planes of his chest and the corded muscles of his thighs. She knows he won’t hurt her. She knows he won’t let her go. Kona takes her face again, moving her chin so she’s forced to look at him. “You’re not the same, Wildcat and that was a long time ago.”

And then Keira lets that girl sneak to the surface. She lets her take Kona’s mouth, pull his shirt so that her tongue licks against a wide expanse of tempting, copper skin. She lets that girl enjoy Kona’s mouth, his hands, the way he feels hard, demanding against her, until the night darkens, deepens and her rejection, though halfhearted, comes again.

Kona stops pushing, stops demanding and before he leaves Keira out on that balcony, he reminds her why she’d loved him in the first place. He reminds her why she should love him again.

“I only know one thing—no one sets my skin on fire like you do. No one. Not one person has ever made me feel like I’m alive like you. That hasn’t changed, not in sixteen years.
Don’t try to pretend it isn’t the same for you.”

©Copyright Eden Butler 2014

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• Title: 2B Or Not 2B?

• Series: Roomies #1

• Author: Stephanie Witter

• Category: New Adult

• Genre: Contemporary Romance

• Publisher: AG Publishing

• Cover Artist: Cover it Designs

• Full length novel.

• Add it to goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22107209-2b-or-not-2b

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