Category: Excerpt

Excerpt Reveal…Perversion by T.M. Frazier

PERVERSION EXCEPRT REVEAL.jpg

USA Today bestselling author of the King Series, T.M. Frazier, brings you an all new trilogy with an anti-hero you’re going to love to hate and a ballsy heroine with tricks up her sleeve.

PERVERSION, book one in the all-new Perversion Trilogy is coming September 25th and we have the first sneak peek for you!

PERVERSION FULL REVEAL DAY

Synopsis

Love is supposed to be magical.

Ours is suicidal.

The first time I met Emma Jean Parish,

she conned me into taking her p*ssy.

Her cat.

When she was sixteen,

she manipulated me into giving her

her very first kiss.

At eighteen she gave me everything.

She’s a con artist.

I’m a criminal.

I use her.

She manipulates me.

The attraction between us is explosive.

When it detonates

we could both wind up dead.

PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY

BOOK TWO: POSSESSION

BOOK THREE: PERMISSION

PERVERSION_PRE_ORDER

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Excerpt:

Emma Jean

When I was younger, I fell in love with magic. I learned every card trick there was from library books and unmasking magic TV specials. I used to put on shows for Gabby that included escaping from complicated knots and trick handcuffs. But what’s magic besides a sleight of hand?

It’s a lie.

And lying is what I’m damn good at.

My ability to spin a tall tale or two lead to stealing wallets and conning people into taking stray pets for the thrill of it. Now, I’m using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but it’s muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats.

The inside of the casino smells like stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. We’re not supposed to be in here. It’s Bedlam territory. But that’s also why it’s perfect.

It isn’t like anyone would recognize us here.

We’ve made friends with a few of the cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they don’t ask questions or ring any alarms when they see us working. I’ve also been straightening my hair over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a dark highway. I’ve dyed it a few shades darker than my normal honey blonde to help blend in.

Tonight is starting off well. Gabby and I are working a con we’ve run a few times before.

Gabby walks away, her long dark hair swooshing behind her. She gives me a nod as she passes me by on the slot machine I’m pretending to play. She’s just faked losing an expensive engagement ring at another slot machine. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she frantically looked around for it, then loudly announced a thousand-dollar reward would be waiting at the casino cage for whoever returned it.

She is flawless. She should be an actress. And in another life, she would be.

But we don’t live in another life.

We live in Lacking and belong to Los Muertos.

Our lives are not our own.

A few people casually look around the area, then return to their machines when they don’t find the ring Gabby was ranting about. They won’t either. Because it’s not there.

Yet.

It’s go time.

I strut over to the area Gabby just left and put a dollar in the machine. While the wheels spin, I pretend to pick up the dime store ring I already have in my hand. By the time the machine dings to tell me I’ve lost my dollar, I’m turning the ring over, inspecting it like I don’t have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment.

“Would you look at that?” I mutter to myself loud enough so others around me can hear.

A man in an Adidas jumpsuit with a potbelly taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll take that. I saw the woman who dropped it. I’ll go return it to her.”

Liar. You just want the reward.

“That’s so nice of you,” I say. I hold it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. “I bet there’s a reward for something this valuable.” I start to walk around the man. “I’ll take it up to management. Maybe, they know…”

“Here,” the man says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. I’ll take it to her. I just…you know, as I said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.”

You’re not even a good liar.

Sometimes, it’s just too freaking easy. And this scam wasn’t even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesn’t anyone else watch movies?

I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. “Thanks,” I say before quickly making my way toward the large glass front doors. It’s Thursday. Marco’s money is due in two days, and we’re short this week.

Really short.

I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the valets with a smile on my face. “Any luck, tonight?” One asks me.

“I think so,” I answer with a smile. Once I’m down the sidewalk and out of view, I scramble to the side of the casino where I kick off my heels and change from the sequined dress I’d stolen from a dry-cleaner into a pair of cut-off shorts and my yellow Keds.

Now, all I have to do is wait for Gabby.

I don’t have to wait long.

“Run!” Gabby yells, darting from the doors of the casino with two large men wearing tight black security t-shirts close behind. Running from security is terrifying enough, knowing that we’re running from members of the Bedlam Brotherhood kicks it up a notch.

I grab my backpack and sling it across my shoulders. I move as fast as I can until I’m running right alongside her. We race through the gates, cross the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two cars. We duck into a hole in a fence and run through one backyard after the other.

“One of those cunt waitresses must have tipped them off!” Gabby says, through shallow breaths. She’s barefoot in a black mini-dress hiked up to her ass to give her long legs room to run. Her long thick hair is wrapped around her face, sticking to her mouth.

We hit the sixth backyard. Without another word, we separate behind a clothesline. We’ve mapped out this escape plan a thousand times, but this is the first time we’ve ever had to use it.

When I make it into the central part of town, to the Los Muertos/Bedlam border, I can no longer hear the shouts of the security guards. I lost them.

Hopefully, Gabby did, too.

I use a tower of stacked-up wooden pallets on the sidewalk like a ladder to scale a concrete wall, then drop down into the alley.

I grow more panic-stricken the longer I wait for Gabby. I bite the inside of my lip, pacing back and forth along the high wall. The Bedlam Brotherhood runs the security at the casino. If they catch her and find out who she is? Or worse? Who her brother is? They’ll… I shake the thought from my mind. She’ll be fine.

She HAS to be fine.

Please be okay, Gabby. Please.

I’m trying to catch my breath and pull myself together when I hear a clink echo through the alley as if someone dropped some spare change, followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to the asphalt.

“Gabby?” I ask into the darkness. Thinking it’s her, relief washes over me like rain on a barren desert.

My only answer is the flickering of a fluorescent light mounted high on the roof’s edge of the adjoining building. And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster.

I walk over and peer around it. “Gabby? Are you hurt? Say something!” I whisper-shout.

Someone moves from within the shadow. “Get out here, Gabby. We’ve got to go before Mar…”

The light flickers again, for just a second. That second is all I need to see that the someone slowly stalking toward me is not Gabby.

It’s a man…twice my size.

“Who are you?” I ask, shuffling backward as the man cloaked in a black leather hood emerges from the shadows. The front of his jacket is open. Underneath, he’s shirtless, covered in a sheen of sweat, and more tattoos than visible skin all the way up the front of his throat. His muscled chest and abs flex with each step he takes. The hood shadows most of his face, but when the lights flicker again, yellow eyes glow from within.

And they’re locked on me.

My ‘save your ass’ mode kicks in.

The man is blocking the only exit. My only other chance of escape is to scale the same wall I used to drop into the alley.

I keep moving backward as he approaches until my back hits the wall. I look left and right for something to use to climb on.

There’s nothing but emptiness.

My stomach sinks, but surrender is not an option.

I swallow hard as the alarm bells scream in my head for me to run. Somewhere. Anywhere.

There’s nowhere to go!

My legs tremble. Fear crawls like a million spiders along the backs of my legs. I push myself further against the wall as if I can squish the feeling away, but it’s useless.

Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole.

He continues toward me. As he gets closer, I realize it’s not just sweat glistening on his skin. There’s something else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw.

It almost looks like wet paint.

My breathing stops when he’s close enough that I can make out the tattoo on the front of his throat.

A bleeding black rose.

The symbol of the Bedlam Brotherhood.

I’ve heard stories about Grim. The man in the hood. The executioner for Bedlam. They were all terrifying, but not nearly as terrifying as the reality of coming face to face with the man himself.

“We didn’t do anything,” I blurt. “I mean, we did, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll…I’ll give the money back. Just tell your men not to hurt my friend. It was all my idea. Let her go, and you can take me.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His voice is so thick and deep I feel it more than hear it. Shivers erupt all over my body.

He raises his arm, revealing a long curved blade.

For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to be able to hide my fear with my wit or sarcasm. My throat tightens. I can’t swallow, never mind speak. I’ve lost my words completely, along with my nerve.

The man’s blade drips red onto the pavement from the serrated tip.

Every fear response I didn’t even know I had runs rampant. I’m holding my breath. My muscles tense as if running was still an option. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle my skin as they stand on end. I raise up to my tip-toes and push back, trying to make myself disappear into the wall.

I glance from the knife back to his chest, then back again. The splatters across his skin?

It’s not fucking paint.

Before I can process what the hell is happening, he switches from slow-stalking mode into hyper-speed, pinning my wrists above my head. His hard, bloodied chest pushes against me, smearing blood across my white tank top, forcing the back of my head to connect roughly with the wall.

“I’ll only ask you this one more time. Who the fuck are you?” His low guttural growl rattles my bones.

His unblinking, angry, golden eyes lock onto mine. Without the fluorescent light, they’re more golden brown than a glowing yellow. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. He could be the last person I ever see.

The thought is just the spike of adrenaline I need.

“Let me go,” I say, finally finding my words. I try and jerk my wrists from his grip with no luck. I’m trapped. My fear and anger rise to the surface, but I shove it back down. Fear won’t get me out of this situation, so it will have to wait for its damned turn.

He digs his rough fingers into my skin. “Answer me. Who the fuck are you?”

The bite of pain only makes me angrier. I throw his question back at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

He glances down at my rapidly rising and falling chest before pinning me with his stare. The corner of his mouth tugs up in a half-smirk.

“So much confidence for someone who’s trembling,” he says with an amused glint shining in his demonic eyes.

I shrug. “Maybe, I’m just not a fan of enclosed spaces,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says.

“Why do you have blood all over you?” I answer him with yet another question. “You know, if you were committing some kind of crime back there, you should be more careful. I recommend a bleach bath and death by fire for your clothes the first chance you get. If it’s self-harm, I’m sure there’s a helpline you can call.”

He cocks his head to the side. His nostrils flare. His face is only inches away. I can feel the heat from his body against mine. His cool breath flutters against my neck.

I’ve never been this close to a man before. My trembling grows. My inner thighs shake sending a rippling wave of something very unfamiliar coursing through the center my body. I try and press my legs together to stop it from happening again, but when he uses his knee to wedge my legs apart, caging me in even further, it only grows, uncoiling from within like a slinky being pulled apart at the ends.

I swallow hard as the stubble of his jaw presses against my neck.

“Name,” he demands, his voice raspier than before.

I shut my eyes tight for a beat, trying to gain composure, control, something that will help me as I try and reason my way out of this. “Listen, I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “That is if you did anything. I’m not going to call the police if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t anyway, even if I saw something, which I didn’t.”

His brows knit together in a harsh line. “Why?”

His question confuses me.

“Why what?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell the police?”

Because Marco owns them.

“Let’s just say that I haven’t exactly been a model citizen myself tonight. Let’s face it. If the police around here weren’t being paid not to do their jobs, half this town would be locked up.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “Especially people like us.”

He stills. There’s no more talking. Only heavy breathing and a battle of wills. He releases one of my hands. I think he’s reaching for his knife. My blood turns cold. I can feel my face pale as my heart starts beating as faster and faster as if it wants to get in as many as possible before the end.

I’m surprised when he doesn’t go for his knife. Instead, his hand travels slowly down my chest into my cleavage.

“No, don’t!” I say, but it’s too late, he’s already yanked on my locket.

“Please just give it back, and let me go,” I plead. Feeling like it’s my real heart he’s torn from my chest. “It’s the only thing in this world that means anything to me. Besides my best friend, it’s all I have.”

I hate the desperation in my voice, but it’s the truth.

He’s silent for a moment. He raises his arms. I flinch, raising my arms over my face defensively. But when nothing happens, I lower them, just in time to see him push back his hood, revealing his face.

“Why?” I ask, closing my eyes knowing full well that the only time a criminal reveals himself to a witness is right before they take them out.

“Look at me,” he demands, holding my face in his hand.

“No!” I say, shutting my eyes tighter.

“Look at me!” he bellows. He’s on me again. This time, he holds my head in his large rough hands. “Open your fucking eyes so you can see me.”

With no other choice than to get my head squished like a turtle under a car tire, I do as he demands. Opening my eyes, I blink through the haze, and when it clears, I’m met with tousled, medium-length, light brown hair, slicked back on the top, shorn close to head on the sides. His nose is slightly crooked like it’s been broken a few times before. The stubble on his square, defined jaw is a few days over needing a shave. A jagged scar runs through his chin like an angry white lightning bolt.

He’s the most fucking beautifully terrifying man I’ve ever seen.

He’s searching my eyes for something, but I don’t know what.

“Why?” I ask in a whisper.

His hands release mine, but he doesn’t step back. He leans in closer, speaking against my cheek in a rumble of a whisper. The strange feeling from earlier comes back as a zap of electricity bouncing around my insides looking for somewhere to ground.

I’m breathing heavy. Our lips are so close, almost touching. He slides one hand off my face, snaking it around my neck, pulling me closer. He starts to answer in a rumble of a whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on my already prickled skin. “Because I want you to see the face of the man who’s just—”

“Where the fuck are you?” calls Gabby from the other side of the wall. “I lost them!”

The moment, whatever it is, is now broken. The man releases me so suddenly I brace myself against the wall to keep from falling. I turn my head toward her voice.

“Gabby!” I shout back.

My heart is beating out of control. Out of habit, I raise my hand to my chest, seeking familiar comfort.

I look up. The man in the hood is gone.

And so is my locket.

About the Author

T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier never dreamed that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she is a five-time USA Today bestselling author and her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world.

T.M. enjoys writing what she calls sexy‘wrongside of the tracks romance’ with morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines.

Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay.

She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she’s not ready to wake up from this amazing dream.

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Riding the Edge by Janine Infante Bosco…Review with Excerpt

RIDING THE EDGE

by Janine Infante Bosco
A Satan’s Knights Novel
Publication Date: August 21, 2018
Cover Designer: JB’s Cover Obsession Design
Models: Darrin James Dedmon and Michelle Lynn McLeod
Photographer: JW Photography
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense, Standalone

AVAILABLE NOW!

(#Free with #KindleUnlimited)

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SYNOPSIS

Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, something extraordinary comes along that knocks you on your ass…

“Wolf”
I’m a simple man with simple values. You either love me or you hate me, but the ones who need me, always got me. I’m the self-proclaimed Wolf of the Satan’s Knights MC, the beast who will fight his way out of any dark alley to defend your honor. The brother you call upon when you’ve lost your faith in humanity.
However, secrets and lies are the cancer of a man’s soul. Exposed, they will eat away all that is good and leave nothing but destruction in their wake. They’ll prove the best intentions sometimes fail and leave you questioning your life’s choices.
Now, searching for a purpose, I find myself facing the ride of my existence with a woman just as jaded as me. As she fights the biggest battle of her life, I want to be the man who stands by her side. The man who ain’t afraid to ride the edge of misery because he knows there is something beautiful on the other side…

“Maria”
I’ve prevailed against the mob, a deadbeat ex-husband and the woes of being a single mother. While someone else may have wished for a different life, I believe I’m stronger for everything I’ve endured. I’m someone who speaks her mind and fights for what is right. A woman who will smack you upside the head with a frying pan and ask questions later.
Terrified of love, I’m an otherwise fearless woman.
Until a doctor solemnly diagnoses me and my strength falters.
Now as fear engulfs me, an unexpected man dressed in leather, holds out his hand.
As a woman who never needed anyone, I suddenly need him.
His assurance.
His strength.
His love.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***

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Excerpt

Every sinner has their day of judgment and apparently, today was my day in the Lord’s court.

Running my hand down Maria’s arm, I glance down at her, memorizing her soft features. Thankfully, she stopped crying a little while ago. There are few things in this world that I can’t bear to stand, and a woman’s tears isone of them. I used to think God had kept that in mind when he gave me three sons instead of a daughter. I was no match for a crying woman yet, Maria’s tears didn’t scare me. If anything, they compelled me to do right by her, to give what I knew very few had given her. I held her and let her be. I took her tears and gave her my shoulder while silently vowing to give her my ear when and if she felt like sharing.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, lifting her head from my chest.

“Got nothing to be sorry for, Lady,” I reply, brushing my knuckles over her cheek. Lifting a hand, her fingers close around my wrist and for the briefest moment,she closes her eyes. I try not to read too much into it or allow myself to wonder falsely if I can help her through this. Going by experience, I’m the last man any woman wants in her life during the trying times.

“It’s just a lot, you know?”

Dropping her hand, she pulls away and turns her head. Keeping her eyes pinned to the cross, she draws in a deep breath. “I’m not telling anyone so if you could keep this between us, I’d appreciate that.”

Stretching my arms over the back of the pew, I stare at her in bewilderment.

“Your kids don’t know you had a biopsy?”

“No, they don’t.”

Snapping her gaze back to me, she gives me the same look she did when she told me to take off my boots, making it clear there is no room for argument.

“There is no sense in worrying them when it might be nothing,” she continues. “The earliest the pathology report will be available is Monday. After that, I’ll decide whether I need to tell them or not.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I ignore the objection resting on my tongue and weigh my options. I’m not an expert on parenthood, far from it, but, knowing Lauren and Anthony, I think they would want to be made aware of the situation. Yeah, they’ll be devastated by the possibility but after the shock subsides, I think they’d want to be there for their mother.

On the other hand, Maria is going to do what Maria wants and damn anyone who stands in her way. If I took anything from the conversation we shared last night, it’s that she isn’t a woman who leans on others. She stands alone in a storm and if I hadn’t walked into this chapel, I would be in the dark just like her children.

My eyes dart to the cross and I can’t help but wonder if finding her in here was more than a simple coincidence. Maybe he does exist. Maybe he speaks to us in ways we don’t understand.

Turning my attention back to her, I watch her rise toher feet.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve taken up enough of your time and I should be getting home. The local anesthesia is starting to wear off and I should be taking it easy.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“No, I have my car here.”

“Lady, I wasn’t asking,” I say, pushing myself off the pew. Standing before her, I watch her lift her chin and stare up at me. The vast change in our height leaves me confused and I divert my eyes to the sensible flats covering her feet, needing validation as to why she suddenly seems fragile in my eyes.

“I appreciate that—”

“I’m taking you home, Maria and I’ll come back later for your car.”

“I swear I’m fine,” she starts to argue.

Placing a finger to her lips, I silence her.

“I know you’re fine,” I tell her. “But you can’t give me what you gave me and expect me to turn my cheek, Lady. I’m not wired like that just like you’re not wired to depend on anyone. Now, I know you’re used to doing things on your own and I respect that but, I’m here. Here, to hold you when you’re crying in a chapel. Here, to listen if you want to talk and here, whether you like it or not, I’m here to drive you home. There ain’t much I’m good at, but the ones who need me, always got me and you, Lady, you got me for as long as you need me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“You…” she whispers, swallowing. “Why now?”

Understanding the question, I bend my head and brush my lips gently over hers.

“Now seems like just as good of a time as any,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine.

Interlocking our fingers, I lead her out of the pew. Freezing in her tracks, she gives my hand a squeeze and causes me to turn my head. Releasing her hold on me, she walks towards the row of candles in front of the chapel. I lean against the door and watch as she makes the sign of the cross and lights a candle. Sending a prayer to God, she bows her head and my eyes sweep back to the cross.

Make me a believer again.

Once she’s finished, she joins me at the back of the chapel and reaches for my hand. There are no words spoken between us as we leave the hospital and make our way to the Charger. I watch her wince as she draws the seatbelt against her chest and leansin to adjust the strap. She thanks me with her eyes and I move behind the wheel. The drive back to her house is just as quiet and when we reach her door, she breaks the silence.

“Thank you,” she says, leaning against the door. “I—what’re you doing?” she questions, diverting her eyes to my feet.

Bending my knees, I pull the laces on my boots.

“Open the door, Lady.”

It takes a moment for her to get her ass in gear but eventually she does as she’s told and opens the door. Stepping inside, she turns and watches as I follow her into the house. Closing the door behind me, I remove my boots and neatly set them on the mat before taking her hand.

“What are you doing, Al?”

What feels right.

Pulling her away from the door, I lead her through the house and towards her bedroom. Standing at the foot of the bed, I grunt as I take in the mountain of fancy pillows.

“Jesus Christ, Lady, you sure like your pillows,” I mutter, plucking them from the mattress.

“Al—”

“Is there a ritual or something you do with these things?”

“They’re pretty,” she answers.

“Yeah, they’re fucking stunning,” I grunt, piling them on the chair in the corner of the room. Done with that task, I turn down the comforter and lift my gaze to hers. “You got a nightgown or something you want to change into?”

“Al, I appreciate the ride—”

“I bet,” I tease.

“Funny,” she fires back.

“I thought so. Now, which drawer do you keep your nightgowns in?”

Sighing, she cocks her head to the side, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’re not going to quit, are you?”

“No.”

“Will you leave after you tuck me in?”

“No.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of walking intothe house. I thought I’d drive her home, get rid of the rental and go back to the hospital to get her car. Maybe I’d check on her but that was it. It wasn’t until she was standing at the door, ready to dismiss me that I realized I couldn’t leave, that I didn’t want to.

Accepting my answer, she steps around me and opens the top drawer of her dresser. I watch her pull out a silk nightgown and step out of her shoes.

“Can you give me a minute?” she questions, twisting the silk between her fingers.

“Yeah,” I nod.

Swiping a hand over my face, I respect her need for privacy and start for the door. As I’m about to step into the hallway,a thought hits me and forces me to turn back to her.

“I don’t care.”

“Excuse me?”

“Had you under me, Lady, and I saw every inch of you,” I explain, standing in the doorway. “You don’t gotto hide from me. If you want your privacy, I’ll give that to you but don’t send me out of the room because you think I’m going to look at you any differently than I did last night. Trust when I say I’m itching to throw you up against that wall and fuck your brains out.”

In all my years, no truer words have left my lips.

I don’t know what this thing is between usif we’re just two lonely people finding comfort in one another or if it’s more. What I do know is that I’m not willing to forget last night happened. As far as I’m concerned, it was a prelude and there is more of that to be found—plenty more.  Am I the right guy for Maria—probably not, but I don’t want to walk out this door with just another notch in my belt.

 

 

I have a lot of adjectives I could use for this book but the one that come back to me time and time again was refreshing. Refreshing because not only does Ms. Bosco give you a love story but also a story full of suspense and hot, hot, hot love.

A couple of things that stand out for me the most in this book. First, the characters are in their forties, which I find amazing. This allows for them to know exactly what they want from life and it really pulls away from the nonsense that is found in some romantic books. Second, Wolf and Maria truly have “real life” problems that are sad and ugly but it is amazing how they deal with them. Which brings me to the third thing, not only do you get an Alpha male but Maria is strong and not at all backing down from any fight.

Janine Infante Bosco has this great ability to write a romance with suspense. It is not just about the sex scenes and the quick falling in love. I feel sometimes some authors throw in suspense or a mystery to add more to a book, which makes it seem like it was a second thought. Not with Janine’s stories. The romance and suspense go together like peanut butter and jelly. It flows.

She also writes the “ugly” side of a character in a beautiful way. They are flawed and you’ll love them for being flawed. You will love it more when the two come together.

I think this is such a great series that truly makes you feel invested in each character. Wolf and Maria are an amazing story.

#RidingtheEdge

MEET AND GREET!

Come meet Author, Janine Infante Bosco and models, Darrin James Dedmon (“Wolf”) and Michelle Lynn McLeod (“Maria”) “Tempted & Tantalizing Author Event” in Staten Island, New York this October!

Click the red button for more information!

Click the blue button below to purchase the exclusive Ride Or Die: A #TNTNYC18 Collaboration!

#WeGetOneLife

DON’T MISS THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE #SATANSKNIGHTSMC SERIES!

FROM THE RUINS

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THE DEVIL DON’T SLEEP

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#FightingStrong

ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

Website • Facebook • Facebook Group • Twitter • Pinterest • Goodreads • Newsletter • Janine’s Facebook Group • Amazon • Bookbub

The Cowboy’s Last Rodeo by Jeannie Watt…Release Blitz

 

 

Title: The Cowboy’s Last Rodeo
Series: The 79th Cooper Mountain Rodeo #4
Author: Jeannie Watt
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 11, 2018
Blurb
Shane Marvell‘s
career as a rodeo rider is ending far too soon. He doesn’t have a plan B, so
during his last season, he’s all in, determined to win as much prize money as
possible–even if it means riding injured and taking more risks than he should.
Ella Etxeberri has
always played it safe, so when her life still takes a bad turn despite her
caution, she wonders if if isn’t time to see what she’s been missing. While
researching risk behaviors in rodeo riders, she meets Shane Marvell, a cowboy
who merits additional study of the personal variety.
Just as Ella is
hitting the point to embrace risk, Shane is pulling back. He knows Ella’s
all-in approach is born of curiosity and whim. He’s not what she wants forever,
and perhaps Ella is one risk he can’t allow himself to take.

 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS
GOOGLE PLAY
Excerpt
They stopped at
the door of his trailer, then Shane took the big leap and said, “Do you want to
come inside?”
He saw Ella’s
throat move as she swallowed. “Yes. I would.”
He stepped back
to allow her to enter first, then followed her in, grimacing as his knee did
its best not to cooperate. He set his rigging and his chaps on top of his gear
bag next to the small kitchenette unit, then reached behind him for the door
handle.
“I…um…” Ella
smiled nervously. “What’s the deal with your shoulder?”
Not what Shane
had been expecting. “Partial tear of the labrum.”
“Do you tape
yourself?”
“When I have to.
It’s awkward, but the sports guys aren’t at some of the smaller rodeo.” Shane’s
heart beat a little faster as he said, “Want to see?”
Ella sat down on
the bench she’d slept on less than a week ago. “Yes.”
Shane shrugged
out of his protective vest, tossed it on top of the rest of his gear and
unsnapped his shirt. Ella swallowed again, making him wonder if she’d spent
much time with guys in intimate situations.
Or if it was a
matter of her being nervous around him.
He shrugged out of his shirt and stepped closer so she could see the wrap
job he’d done. She got to her feet and inspected the front, then put a light
hand on his shoulder to turn him, so she could see the back, too. “How many
rolls of tape on your elbow?”
“More than one. I
don’t want to hyperextend.”
She ran an exploratory
hand over the thick layers of white athletic tape covering the area from his
bicep to the middle of his forearm. Then she made the mistake of glancing up.
Their gazes locked and it was suddenly very clear to him what needed to be
done. Ella was of the same mind. They leaned closer at the same moment, their
lips meeting. Her hand tightened on his taped forearm as she welcomed his
tongue into her mouth, teased it with her own.
 Ella dropped her hand away from his
arm and smoothed the hair from her forehead as she pulled back. “Just so you
know, I didn’t ask to see the tape job as an excuse to have my way with you.”
 “You can’t imagine how disappointed I am.”

 

Author Bio
Jeannie
Watt is the author of over 20 contemporary romances and the recipient of the
Holt Medallion Award of Merit. She lives in a small ranching community—a place
where kids really do grow up to be cowboys—with her husband, dog, cat, horses
and ponies. When she’s not writing, Jeannie enjoys sewing retro fashions,
running, and buying lots and lots of hay.
If you’d
like to know more about Jeannie, check out her website JeannieWatt.com or visit
her Facebook page www.facebook.com/jeannie.watt.1.

 

Author Links

Cover Re-Reveal….On Dublin Street by Samantha Young

On Dublin Street by Samantha Young

 

A women hiding from her past has all of her secrets laid bare in this New York Times and USA Today bestselling sensation that enraptured readers everywhere…

Braden Carmichael is used to getting what he wants, and he’s determined to get Jocelyn into his bed. He knows she has a past, one that has made her skittish about getting into a relationship, so he proposes an arrangement that will satisfy their intense attraction without any strings attached.

But after an intrigued Jocelyn accepts, Braden decides he won’t be satisfied with just mind-blowing passion. The stubborn Scotsman is intent on truly knowing her…down to the very soul.

 

Buy links:

 Kindle, Nook, iBooks, Kobo, Google Play

Chapter 1 – from Braden’s POV

Sighing, Braden shrugged his shoulders back and looked up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight. Decked out in a three-piece suit on a hot day like this didn’t ease his growing frustration with his plan to sell La Cour. No one knew he was thinking of selling La Cour except Thomas Prendergast, a fellow restaurateur. A successful one. If any of his business associates knew Braden was selling La Cour they’d think he was nuts. The restaurant had a world-class chef and a stellar reputation. And it made money.
In truth, Braden was just stretched too thin and not interested in La Cour. All his concentration and focus was going into making his nightclub Fire a success, developing properties that turned profits, and of course he still had his father’s estate agency to keep up with, as well as a successful Scottish seasonal restaurant he co-owned with the chef, Frazier Allie, down on the Shore.
La Cour as it stood was a nuisance, a nuisance Braden felt obligated to attend to since his father worked so hard to make it the success it was. But his father had always told him that when business became a nuisance rather than a challenge, and was no longer satisfying, it was time to move on to greener pastures.
Thomas was dragging his feet with an answer.
He glanced back at the restaurant. Come on, Thomas, make up your mind, man.
Braden’s phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the digital reminder informing him he had a meeting in twenty minutes with one of his managers at Douglas Carmichael & Co, the estate agency his grandfather built up from the ground up to become one of the primary agencies in the Lothians.
Shit. He’d spent longer with Thomas Prendergast than he’d meant to. Scowling, Braden walked toward Bruntsfield Church, his pale blue eyes trained on the road ahead, willing a cab to make an appearance. Only seconds later one turned around the corner and he stepped out onto the curb with his arm raised. To his relief the taxi pulled up to him. He’d make his meeting.
Reaching for the handle on the passenger side, a clean, fruity smell drifted towards him seconds before a warm, small and very feminine hand collided with his.
Braden dipped his head and looked down into the face of a woman, her skin bright from the sunlight, her eyes narrowed to slits as she squinted against the sun behind his head. There was a surprised disgruntlement in her expression. Clearly she assumed this was her black cab. Braden prepared to disabuse her of the notion but stopped. His father taught him that reading people, and by that he meant all the things they didn’t say with their mouths but did with their bodies and eyes, was the key to success in business. Braden read stubbornness in her features he could make out and in the obstinate tension she held in her shoulders. He was in no mood for stubbornness or fighting over a bloody cab after his meeting with Thomas had come to no satisfactory conclusion.
For the sake of expedience Braden asked, “Which way are you headed?”
He heard the words ‘Dublin Street’ and did what he always did: maneuvered things to his liking. “Good.” He pulled the cab door open. “I’m heading in that direction, and since I’m already running late, might I suggest we share the taxi instead of wasting ten minutes deciding who needs it more.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and nudged her into the cab.
Relieved she didn’t stall them, Braden got in after her and immediately gave the cab driver their first destination. His sister, Ellie, lived on Dublin Street in a flat he’d renovated and then gifted to her. Ellie was his half-sister—they shared the same father. She’d never had it particularly easy from their dad. That was putting it politely. Douglas Carmichael was a negligent bastard and despite the fact that he and Braden had finally become friends of a sort before he died, Braden had never forgiven him for his treatment of Ellie. The guilt Douglas should have felt transferred to Braden, and he’d done everything he could to make sure her life was easier, and that she knew he cared. Giving her the flat meant she could concentrate on that PhD she was studying for. Braden might think the PhD impractical, but it made her happy, and in the end that was all that mattered. He also liked having her close to the estate agency which was on Dundas Street. Anytime he was in the area, which was more often than not, he could drop by to see Els. Braden was lucky to call Ellie not only his sister, but one of his closest friends, and it was nice to escape the stress of his business life at least for ten minutes when he stopped by for a coffee with her.
Braden decided he’d get the cab driver to stop at the top of Dublin Street, burl around and come back toward Dundas Street. It would be easier to drop him off first but it was ingrained in him to never let a woman pay for anything, so he’d drop off the unexpected passenger so he could pay the fare.
“Thanks I guess,” the woman answered from his left, the words sardonic. It wasn’t the tone that drew his attention. It was the husky, sexy voice and the American accent.
Glancing in interest at her, Braden almost did a double take. She was attractive. Very. So busy checking her out he asked somewhat stupidly, “You’re an American?”
She turned to him and as soon as their eyes met Braden felt his blood heat with the impact. Jesus fucking Christ. Intelligent, exotic, feline gray eyes appraised him as she tucked a loose strand of dark-blonde hair behind her ear. Her hair was long and pulled back in a pony-tail, giving him an unhindered view of a graceful neck and an arresting face. For some reason he couldn’t look away.
Watching her eyes drop to his body, drinking him in, Braden was intrigued. He was used to women looking at him. He was a big guy and he worked out and he’d had no complaints from women. He wasn’t, however, used to a woman appearing so consternated by the fact that she was checking him out. He raised an eyebrow, curious about her.
“Yeah, I’m American.”
That voice. He shifted in his seat. She really did have the sexiest voice he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again. “Just visiting?” Braden murmured.
“Nope.”
“Then you’re a student?”
Whatever she heard in his tone it made her tense. Braden envied her casual, light clothing in this heat and thanked God for throwing her in his path on a day so hot in Scotland it had caused the American to wear those tiny shorts.
True, she wasn’t his usual type. Most of his girlfriends, including his current girlfriend Holly, and his ex-wife Analise, were tall, slender platinum blondes. The American was the opposite of every woman he’d ever dated.
And yet… she was beyond appealing.
She had surprisingly large breasts for such a delicately built woman—big boobs, wee waist, and another surprise were those gorgeous legs of hers. They were shapely and long despite her small stature. Hot blood rushed southwards.
Bloody Nora.
When Braden finally dragged his eyes up to her expressive face he noted the raised eyebrow. He’d been caught eating her up and she did not look impressed. Amused, he grinned at her. Usually this would incur a responding grin. Instead the brat rolled her eyes at him.
“I was a student,” she answered, and Braden’s ears warmed to the purr of her dulcet voice. “I live here. Dual citizenship.”
“You’re part Scottish?”
She gave him a barely-there nod and seemed intent to not look at him. He smiled inwardly, feeling anticipation he hadn’t felt in a while, and definitely not over a woman. It was the anticipation of a challenge. Women came quite easily to him and it certainly made life less difficult. Life was stressful enough in business. But he couldn’t argue with what this strange, inexplicable feeling toward the American.
He’d never felt instant attraction like it.
Braden eyed her and grew even more dangerously hot at the idea of turning that willful glint in her stunning eyes soft with need as he explored every inch of her.
He shifted in his seat again, disappointment settling over him when he belatedly remembered he was seeing someone else. Since he wasn’t the kind of man to ask for another woman’s number while he was in a relationship that meant he’d have to ignore whatever was between him and the American.
Bugger.
The timing was fucked.
He couldn’t have her. Eyeing her mouth, despite knowing that conversation—or anything—was pointless, he found himself asking, “What do you do now that you’ve graduated?”
She shot him a look out of the corner of her eyes and it seemed to hold more than a hint of disdain. “What do you do? I mean, when you’re not manhandling women into cabs?”
It occurred to Braden that a man knew he was really bored with life when he got a kick out of a woman’s condescension. “What do you think I do?”
“I’m thinking lawyer. Answering questions with questions, manhandling…”
“I’m not a lawyer. But you could be. I seemed to recall a question answered with a question. And that,” he gestured to her full mouth, wondering how she’d taste, “That’s a definite smirk.” His voice was thick with want and he knew she heard it in the way her eyes flared as their gazes met.
Yeah, she felt the heat too.
The air in the cab was suddenly heavy with sexual tension. An undeniable, incredible electricity that Braden really fucking wanted to explore.
As awful as it was, he was cursing the existence of Holly, his current girlfriend, to hell in that moment. What he had with Holly wasn’t special. It was just fun. But it was exclusive.
Shit.
The American not only looked away but seemed to deliberately lean her whole body away from him as she stared out at the passing traffic. As he watched her attempt to create a distance between them with silence, his eyes caressed the sharp sweep of her jawline and the smoothness of her olive skin. She had great skin. Skin that told of her age, and it suddenly occurred to him that the American was quite young, probably ages with Ellie. He hadn’t realized at first because she had seemed attractively self-possessed.
Now she seemed uncomfortable… perhaps inexperienced?
It should have put him off.
It didn’t.
Whoever she was, however she was, Braden was intrigued.
He wanted to work her out.
“Are you shy?” He asked trying not to sound like a condescending prick.
She turned to him with a bemused smile. “Excuse me?”
Not shy then. He eyed her carefully. She wasn’t as easy to read as he’d first thought. He liked that. “Are you shy?” he repeated to be polite, already knowing the answer to that question was no. She was something, but it wasn’t shy.
“Why would you think that?”
He decided to see just how self-possessed she really was. “Most women would be taking advantage of my imprisonment in the taxi with them—chew my ear off, shove their phone number in my face…as well as other things.” His eyes instantly lowered to her lush breasts, letting her know he thought they were well worthy of the attention.
Anticipating either a blush or a scowl when he drew his eyes back to her face, Braden was taken aback to find her grinning at him. Fuck. Her smile hit him with more of an impact than her sexy body. She had one helluva sweet smile. “Wow, you really think a lot of yourself.”
He grinned back. “I’m just speaking from experience.”
“Well, I’m not the kind of girl who hands out her number to a guy she just met.”
Even though he couldn’t ask for her number he was immediately disappointed by her answer. He’d begun building an idea of who she was in his head and prudish girl next door was definitely not it. “Ahh,” he looked away. “You’re a no-sex-until-the-third-date, marriage-and-babies kind of woman.” Not exactly his type.
“No, no, and no,” she answered, seeming affronted by the idea. So affronted in fact that he suddenly wondered if the opposite was true. Was he in the presence of that rare creature? A woman afraid of commitment?
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“I’m not giving you my number.”
Unfortunately Braden couldn’t seduce her number out of her. “I didn’t ask for it. And even if I wanted it, I wouldn’t ask for it.” Fucking lie. “I have a girlfriend.” Unfortunately, true. Braden mentally slapped himself across the head for that ungentlemanly thought. Holly was a good girl and deserved better than that.
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
“I have a girlfriend, but I’m not blind. Just because I can’t do anything doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to look.” A crying shame if you asked him. He wanted to look. He wanted to look past the cynical eyes and through the sweet smile and find out which one of them was her. Maybe she was both. Maybe she was neither. He didn’t know. At all. And he wanted to. Jesus—
“Here’s good, thanks.”
What? His fascination with her mystery was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt by her direction to the driver. They weren’t at Dublin Street yet. They still had… Braden looked outside. They were at Queen Street Gardens, only seconds from her destination. And why was he panicking? She was off limits.
The driver pulled up to the curb and she handed him fare and reached for the door.
“Wait,” Braden found himself saying.
She turned to him, her expression impatient. “What?”
Braden sensed he had seconds here. He could either tell her to take her money back and offer to pay for the entire cab fare as he intended. Or he could ask her the one thing that had been itching at him since they met.
“Do you have a name?”
She smiled and Braden automatically found himself smiling with her. “Actually, I have two.”
What?
She jumped out of the cab and despite the loss of her he found myself chuckling at her cool reply.
It was his own fault. He’d asked a smart woman the wrong question.
Just as abruptly as she’d left him, Braden’s amusement fled. He realized he’d probably never see her again. Now that really was a crying shame. His father was right. His intuition was what made him a successful businessman, and his intuition was telling him he’d just let a great opportunity pass him by.
Swallowing his disappointment, Braden directed the cabbie to turnabout and head toward his meeting… in an even worse fucking mood than he’d started out in.

 

Pre-order Fight or Flight links: 

Amazon, Kindle,Barnes & Noble, Nook, Indiebound, Books a Million, iBooks, Kobo, Google Play

A series of chance encounters leads to a sizzling new romance from the New York Timesbestselling author of the On Dublin Street series. 

The universe is conspiring against Ava Breevort. As if flying back to Phoenix to bury a childhood friend wasn’t hell enough, a cloud of volcanic ash traveling from overseas delayed her flight back home to Boston. Her last ditch attempt to salvage the trip was thwarted by an arrogant Scotsman, Caleb Scott, who steals a first class seat out from under her. Then over the course of their journey home, their antagonism somehow lands them in bed for the steamiest layover Ava’s ever had. And that’s all it was–until Caleb shows up on her doorstep.

When pure chance pulls Ava back into Caleb’s orbit, he proposes they enjoy their physical connection while he’s stranded in Boston. Ava agrees, knowing her heart’s in no danger since a) she barely likes Caleb and b) his existence in her life is temporary. Not long thereafter Ava realizes she’s made a terrible error because as it turns out Caleb Scott isn’t quite so unlikeable after all. When his stay in Boston becomes permanent, Ava must decide whether to fight her feelings for him or give into them. But even if she does decide to risk her heart on Caleb, there is no guarantee her stubborn Scot will want to risk his heart on her….

Review

Praise for Fight or Flight

“A delightfully flirty read full of banter and heat, Fight or Flight also captivated me with the depth of its emotional intuition. Ava and Caleb positively explode from the pages, and I was left at the end hugging my copy, both satisfied with the fantastic read and bereft that it was over.”—Christina Lauren, New York Times, USA Today, and #1 International Bestselling Author

“[Young’s] books have it all—gorgeous writing, sexy characters, heartbreak—I’m addicted.”—#1 New York Times bestselling author Vi Keeland  

“Funny, witty, sexy, and a little heartbreaking, [Young’s] outdone herself with Fight or Flight, and that’s saying a lot.”—USA Today bestselling author Penny Reid

“Utterly delicious and addictive, Fight or Flight is Samantha Young at her best. I could not put it down.”—New York Times bestselling author Kristen Callihan

“This romance is a knockout…Living an unexpected life is sometimes more rewarding than planning every last detail, and this book is a testament to the power claimed in vulnerability and how taking chances can lead to the best moments. Passionate, pure, and a perfect addition to the genre; a romance with real heart.”—Kirkus

 

About the Author

Samantha Young is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the On Dublin Street series, including Moonlight on Nightingale Way, Echoes of Scotland Street, and Fall from India Place, and the Hart’s Boardwalk series, includingEvery Little Thing and The One Real Thing, as well as the standalone novel Hero.

 

Author social media:

Twitter, Instagram,Facebook

Keeper of the Bees by Meg Kassel…Blog Tour & Review

Keeper of the Bees
by Meg Kassel
Genre: YA Paranormal
Release Date: September 4th 2018
Entangled Teen

 

Summary:

“Beauty and the beast like you’ve never imagined!” —New York Times bestselling author Pintip Dunn

KEEPER OF THE BEES is a tale of two teens who are both beautiful and beastly, and whose pasts are entangled in surprising and heartbreaking ways.
Dresden is cursed. His chest houses a hive of bees that he can’t stop from stinging people with psychosis-inducing venom. His face is a shifting montage of all the people who have died because of those stings. And he has been this way for centuries—since he was eighteen and magic flowed through his homeland, corrupting its people.

He follows harbingers of death, so at least his curse only affects those about to die anyway. But when he arrives in a Midwest town marked for death, he encounters Essie, a seventeen-year-old girl who suffers from debilitating delusions and hallucinations. His bees want to sting her on sight. But Essie doesn’t see a monster when she looks at Dresden.

Essie is fascinated and delighted by his changing features. Risking his own life, he holds back his bees and spares her. What starts out as a simple act of mercy ends up unraveling Dresden’s solitary life and Essie’s tormented one. Their impossible romance might even be powerful enough to unravel a centuries-old curse.

Add to Goodreads

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37638219-keeper-of-the-bees

Purchase Links: https://entangledpublishing.com/keeper-of-the-bees.html

 

 

She closes her eyes. Her breath hitches. Then, she does the improbable and throws herself against me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
I am paralyzed. Motionless, breathless in my first embrace in a millennium. To be touched… My eyes close as I tremble from head to toe. The pain is glorious, excruciating.
“Thank you,” she breathes against my chest. “You calm my mind. Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” Speech takes an unbearable effort. I’m overwhelmed in every single possible way—destroyed on a level she can’t begin to comprehend. My arms hover, uncertain how to return her embrace and unsure if I should. Unable to push her away. I feel as though I will shatter if I move, but my arms slowly close around her. One of my hands falls on her hair, where her elastic has loosened. The thin band slips from her hair and falls into my hand. My fingers close around it.

 

Meg Kassel has another smashing hit on her hands!!

This is a companion novel to Black Bird of the Gallows. They can be read separately and not in order and I loved each of these book equally as they very unique in their stories.

Keeper of the Bees is a YA fantasy novel about Dresden who is cursed as a beekeeper and Essie who is bound with her own curse.

As a beekeeper, his life curse is too infect those who have been marked with a bee sting and then once they pass, he takes on their face – sounds creepy but it is quite interesting.

Essie’s curse is one that has been passed down through he family for generations. And it’s only considered a curse because it a condition only affects select members within her family.

I love the whole vibe of this book – fantasy and mystery with a bit of romance tied in. The whole aspect of how Essie’s family curse began and what has happened over the decades with them is very interesting and how Dresden plays into it all makes for quite the entertaining read.

The characters, the writing and the the mystery of what is going on in the town; how the Harbingers, Strawman and Beekeepers play into everything – it’s ever element playing their intricate part to make up a this amazing fairy tale. I couldn’t stop reading this book.

Meg has definitely made a name for herself in the YA fantasy genre an I cannot wait to see what she brings us next!

About the Author

 


Meg Kassel is an author of fantasy and speculative books for young adults. A graduate of Parson’s School of Design, she’s been creating stories, whether with visuals or words, since childhood. Meg is a New Jersey native who lives in a log house in the Maine woods with her husband and daughter. As a fan of ’80s cartoons, Netflix series, and ancient mythology, she has always been fascinated and inspired by the fantastic, the creepy, and the futuristic. She is the 2016 RWA Golden Heart® winner in YA and a double 2018 RITA® finalist for her debut novel, Black Bird of the Gallows.

Website: http://megkassel.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/megkassel
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/seemegwrite/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/megkasselauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8353652.Meg_Kassel
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Meg-Kassel/e/B0756Q8N2L/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1524085261&sr=1-1

GIVEAWAY:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Excerpt Reveal….Whiskey Sour by Nazarea Andrews

Today we are celebrating an excerpt for WHISKEY SOUR by Nazarea Andrews. Whiskey Sour is an adult contemporary romance, standalone novel, and it is the fourth book in the River Street Bar series. Pre-order your copy now. It releases on September 27th!

PRE-ORDER NOW

Amazon

You can sign up for Nazarea’s newsletter for exclusive details.

WHISKEY SOUR by Nazarea Andrews

A Standalone Contemporary Romance – Coming September 27!

(River Street Bar series, #4)

Blurb:

Calvin Landers is a mess.
He has a great job and a steady string of men and women in his bed, and has been in love with the same couple for so long he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t. Coming off fresh heartbreak, he’s ready to move on, to give up on romance and sex altogether and moves in with his best friend, Davis, while he looks for something more permanent and tries to figure out what the hell he’s doing with his life.
Ava Liu isn’t looking for anything more than something to distract her from the book she’s supposed to be translating. Something to distract her from why the hell she’s in River City in the first place. But the boys who share a fence are more than a little distracting and pushy, when they realize just how much Ava needs someone–and how much they all need each other.
Sometimes life happens just when you stop looking.

PRE-ORDER NOW

Amazon

Add the Book to Goodreads

EXCERPT:

There’s a man there, in faded jeans and a green henley and a big grin—although, that grin kind of stutters, dips into confused and speculative as he stares at me.

“Uh. This is—I’m looking for 9800 Blackmore Lane?”

I point to the side, where the old Miller house is sitting in all its innocent glory. “I’m 8900. Go bang on the right door.”

He gives me an apologetic smile and wags a coffee at me.

It’s a coffee from Cool Beans Cafe, something I only get when I can talk Kip into grabbing it before she drops in. And that’s rare enough—she has opinions about how much coffee I drink.

“Peace offering?” he says, with a hopeful little smile that shouldn’t be as charming as it is.

I huff and snatch it from him, inhaling the scent. I give a tiny noise, soft and satisfied. Then I blink, because a stranger is still standing on my porch staring at me, bemused.

“Sorry for snapping,” I mumble.

He laughs. “Sorry for being the unobservant dick who woke you up so early.” I smile at that, pleased, and he extends a hand. “Davis Emmerson. I’m moving into 9800.”

“And you don’t know what it looks like?” I say skeptically.

He laughs and blushes, rubbing the back of his neck in the most adorable display of self-conscious embarrassment I’ve ever seen. “Yeah, no. My best friend is moving in first—he came yesterday. He picked the place. I’m just here for the excellent wifi.”

Oh. Interesting.

“Well, I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll let you get back to your morning.”

“Ava,” I offer shyly and he glances back at me. “My name. It’s Ava.”

A smile slips over his face and he nods. “You should come by tomorrow. I’m making cookies.”

Surprise flickers in his gaze, but he grins as he backs down the stairs. “I will. See you soon, Miss Ava.”

I breathe through the flush on my skin and shut the door as he hits the sidewalk. Then I sit in my favorite chair and slowly savor my coffee, letting my mind drift aimlessly while I do.

It’s only when the coffee is gone and I’ve dressed and done my makeup for the day—it’s only then that I panic.

I have no fucking clue how to make cookies.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories.

When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binge watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids.

N is a self-professed geek and enjoys spending her spare time lost in her favorite fandoms and can often be found babbling about them on social media.

She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

 

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Cover & Excerpt Reveal….Dating The Enemy by Nicole Williams

 

 

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Ms. Romance, Hannah Arden, writes one of the top read relationship advice columns in the nation. Mr. Reality, Brooks North, writes the top read relationship advice column.Ms. Romance believes in true love and soul mates. Mr. Reality believes love is a term humanity has assigned to the primal instinct to procreate. She believes in fate—he in chance. She knows there’s one right person for everyone—he knows there are multiple ones. The two writers couldn’t be more polarized on relationships. They’re professional rivals, and philosophical antagonists.

For eight years, their battles have been fought with words and ink. That changes when they apply for the same position at the World Times and find themselves face-to-face for the first time. Brooks isn’t the sour-faced, antiquity of a man Hannah pictured. And Hannah isn’t exactly the middle-aged shrew with cat hair on her housedress that Brooks imagined either.

In lieu of competing for the promotion traditional ways, the two writers are presented with playing the leading roles in a social experiment unlike any before. Can a person be tricked into falling in love? Can a relationship be crafted under the right string of circumstances? Hannah knows the answer. So does Brooks.

Agreeing to the terms, the two set out on a three-month dating experiment, live-streamed for the world to watch. All Hannah has to do to win is not fall in love with the narcissistic brute. All Brooks has to do is get the starry-eyed dreamer to fall in love with him. Both are so confident in their philosophies, they expect the challenge to be easy.

With the world watching, Brooks and Hannah will be forced to confront their beliefs and conclude, once and for all, who’s right. The answer is one neither of them saw coming.

 

 

“So?” His head lowered toward mine. “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”
A single-noted laugh escaped from me. “No. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“You know it’s only a matter of time.”
“Before our three months are up and, lo and behold, I haven’t fallen madly in love with you?” I said. “Yeah, I know that.”
He held out my glass of cider, scooting closer. “Am I really that offensive?”
“Taken as a whole, no, you’re not. But taking this whole set-up into account, along with your beliefs that love is for weak-minded ninnies, then yes. You really are so offensive.”
A half smile emerged. “What do your readers think about this whole thing?”
“My readers definitely don’t want me falling for you,” I answered.
“But your readers love romance, and some handsome, roguish fellow taking your hand in a park while you’re dressed in a white dress is the definition of romance.” Right then, Brooks’s hand covered mine where it was resting on the blanket.
Instead of stiffening or whipping away, I found myself relaxing under his touch. The camera’s presence screamed at me from the corner of my eye.
“My readers believe in finding the one.” My hand slipped from beneath his. “Not the one who takes your hand and pretends to like you so he gets the promotion.”
“Who says I couldn’t be your one?”
I laughed. “Even I don’t need to run the numbers to know that has about a one-in-an-impossible chance of happening.”
Brooks slid his glasses onto his head, his eyes unapologetic in their stare. “You and me? You couldn’t see it?”
“Not even a little.” I had to look away. “When it’s right, you know it. You feel it.”
Brooks’s head shook before he took a drink of his cider. “I admit, it’s a nice idea. But don’t you feel it inside? The realization that it’s just not true?” He stared out at the park and the people in it.
I gazed with him, trying to ignore that pit opening up in my stomach. “I’d rather spend my life chasing a dream than swallowing a cruel reality.”
“You’d rather spend your life lying to yourself than being honest?” Brooks asked.
“I don’t think any of what I believe is a lie. Soul mates, unconditional love, happy endings—it’s all real.”
“Fairy tales,” he muttered under his breath. “So explain why a marriage dissolves after twenty years because of fifteen minutes of indiscretion.”
Reaching for my glass, I answered, “It wouldn’t have if he kept it in his pants.”
He blew out a sharp breath. “No, that’s like saying twenty years, our kids, our house, our finances, everything is worth less than that fifteen minutes of fucking.” His arms threw out, his tone rather impassioned. “That’s not unconditional love. That’s the very conditional kind.”
“You’re right. It is the conditional kind. On the part of the one who engaged in the fifteen minutes of extra marital . . .” I just caught the cameraman’s hands flailing before I said, “Screwing. That was one-sided unconditional love, and that never works in a relationship.”
One of his brows rose. “That’s a convenient explanation. But I’ll stick to my beliefs that all of that unconditional love junk is worth its weight in bullshit.”
I shot the cameraman an apologetic look—so much for keeping this date in the PG realm. “Then how do you explain the couples it has worked for? The ones who live a long, happy, committed relationship together.”
“I call it a case of two determined people willing to overlook each other’s weaknesses and not be hell-bent on changing or fixing the other, who’ve figured out a way to laugh at themselves, forgive easily—not to mention often—perfect the fine balance of selflessness and selfish, and on top of that, won the relationship lottery.” Brooks clinked his glass against mine before finishing what was left of his cider. “That’s how I explain that.”
I blinked at him. “Wow. Don’t hold back or anything.”
“That’s just half of it.”


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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

 

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Dare You To Lie by Amber Lynn Natusch

BOOK SYNOPSIS

The first installment in the Hometown Antihero series by Amber Lynn Natusch.

When her FBI agent father is framed for murder, Kylene is forced to move in with her grandfather, back to the small town that turned its back on her, and the boy who betrayed her.

All Ky cares about is clearing her father’s name, but someone won’t let her forget the photo scandal that drove her away two years ago. As the threats gain momentum, Ky finds an unlikely ally in the annoyingly attractive rookie FBI agent sent to keep an eye on her.

Determined to expose the town’s hidden skeletons, Ky unwittingly thrusts herself into a much bigger plot. They thought she’d forgive and forget. They’re about to learn they messed with the wrong girl.

DARE YOU TO LIE, a young adult mystery read perfect for fans of Veronica Mars, Pretty Little Liars, or Riverdale.

 

BOOK INFO

Dare You To Lie by Amber Lynn Natusch

Series Hometown Antihero Book One

Genre Young Adult Mystery / Suspense

Publisher Tor Teen

Publication Date September 4, 2018
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TOUR WIDE GIVEAWAY

To celebrate the release of DARE YOU TO LIE by Amber Lynn Natusch, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner!  

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GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Amber Lynn Natusch.  Giveaway ends 9/18/2018 @ 11:59pm EST. Limit one entry per reader. Duplicates will be deleted.

I raced through town and into Gramps’s neighborhood. When I got to the house, there was a generic-looking sedan, not unlike the one my father used to drive, parked outside. I hadn’t even pulled all the way into the driveway before Agent Douchecanoe was out of his vehicle and headed my way, file in hand.

“So you’re the errand boy,” I said to him as he scowled at me.

“You know you can hear that environmental hazard coming from a mile away, right?”

“Weird . . . kinda like your hostility and hubris.”

His frown deepened as he extended the file in his hand toward me. I reached for it, but he pulled it back at the last second.

“Striker said to make sure you got this.”

“Hence the errandboy comment—”

“Do you know what’s in here?”

“Do you know what’s in there?” I countered, knowing damn well he would have looked. The suspense would have killed him.

“They’re copies of evidence from you father’s trial.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” I exclaimed, snatching the file from his hand. “Consider your errand complete. I’d tip you, but . . . I don’t get paid until next week.”

“Why did Striker want you to have those?” he asked, totally unfazed by my jab.

“Because I asked for them.”

He shook his head.

“That’s adorable. You think you can find something that a defense lawyer and a team of FBI agents couldn’t find.”

“They weren’t really looking, though, were they? They approached his investigation as if he was already guilty. Hard to be objective when your singular focus is to bring down the fall guy.”

“Says the girl with the singular focus of freeing her daddy,” he replied. “What a sad day it’s going to be for you when all you find in those files is the truth of your father’s guilt.”

“We’ll see about that.”

 

 

I had the opportunity to read this book as a beta reader and see the transformation of this book go from “I am loving the whole idea of this book” to “holy shit, you really nailed YA Mystery with the whole Veronica Mars vibe.” I did read the final version of this book and even book a physical copy because I love it so much.

The only way to describe this book and not give anything away is saying it is a great blend of Veronica Mars and Riverdale . If you are a huge fan of Veronica Mars, then you will love this book. It has all the mystery and suspense along with the “take no shit” attitude and some very hilarious moments with other characters and you get one hell of an amazing story.

Kylene is kick-ass heroine who decides she is not going to sit back and just take her father’s guilty sentence lightly. She knows that truth but needs to somehow prove it. But she has her own hands full starting back at the school she left because of her own problems there.

This book moves at a fast pace with a lot of moving parts and I love it. There is no slow down and you find yourself getting caught up in the witty and snarky comments from Kylene as well as her friends. I loved every single bit of this book and can’t wait for the next book to release.

This is Amber’s first dive into an genre outside of her normal writing and she delivers a page turner. If you love YA, mystery or just a great book that will keep you glued to the pages, this book is for you.

 

 

 

ABOUT AMBER LYNN NATUSCH

AMBER LYNN NATUSCH is the author of the bestselling Caged series for adults. She was born and raised in Winnipeg, and is still deeply attached to her Canadian roots. She loves to dance and practice Muay Thai―but spends most of her time running a chiropractic practice with her husband, raising two young children, and attempting to write when she can lock herself in the bathroom for ten minutes of peace. Dare You to Lie is her debut YA novel with Tor Teen.

AUTHOR LINKS

Website https://amberlynnnatusch.com/
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AmberLynnNatusch
Twitter https://twitter.com/AmberLNatusch
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Re-Release Day Blitz….Siren In Waiting by Lexi Blake

 

 

Re-released in a second edition with new content.

Bethany “Mouse” Hobbes spent her entire life waiting, especially for the love of Bo O’Malley. But for the first time in her life, she is ready to start living, with or without him. She has found her dream, restoring a rustic farmhouse on the outskirts of town.

Trev McNamara left Deer Run a high school hero and has returned, his football career in ruins. When Trev meets Mouse, he discovers a passion strong enough to overcome his past. But can she accept his need for control?

Bo O’Malley has lived his whole life in the shadow of his brother, never committing to anything or anyone. When the woman he secretly loved all his life begins an affair with the man who betrayed his trust, Bo will do anything to claim her as his own.

Transformed by their love, will Mouse be enough woman for both of them?

 

AVAILABLE NOW

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Bo walked up, his boots resounding against the pavement. His dark-blond hair was curling over his shirt collar. He was so beautiful, but in a different way than Trev. His hand came out to touch her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

And he’d always been able to read her when he bothered to try. “I didn’t get the loan.”

She tensed a bit. Bo hadn’t wanted her to buy the house in the first place. He would probably tell her it was for the best and now she could sell the land to a developer and move someplace safer and way more boring.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” Bo pulled her against his chest right there in the middle of Main Street. He wrapped his arms around her. “I know what that meant to you.”

She froze for a moment. He usually kept his affectionate nature private. It was sweet to be held by him, something she’d dreamed of a thousand times. He still smelled like the soap from the shower he’d insisted on taking before they left for town. His well-worn cotton shirt was soft against her cheek, but his chest was all muscle. After a moment, she let herself sink into him. The tears were back. She couldn’t hold them off when he was giving her a place to cry.

“I don’t know what to do. They said I don’t qualify. I have to have that money. I can’t fix up the house without it.”

His hand found her hair. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find another bank. Hell, Aidan knows lots of people with money. You’ll see. It’s going to be okay. Now, come on, dry those tears and let’s go get some pie. I was talking to Jerry at the feed store, and he said Patty had pecan today.”

She loved pecan pie.

Relief washed over her as Bo began to lead her toward the diner. She’d been terrified that Bo would be angry that she was seeing Trev. She’d played it off as nothing, but she’d been scared he would turn away.

Instead, he opened the door for her and started to ask her about her plans. He seemed interested for the first time. Bo ordered for them both and then gave her his full attention. He was quieter than she’d ever seen him before. Well, except for that night when she’d had to find her way to Austin to get him. He’d been quieter then. He hadn’t talked for days. She didn’t like to think about that night.

“Hey,” Bo said, leaning over and putting a hand over hers. “It’s going to be okay, you know. We’ll find a way to get your house fixed up. Tell me something, is that boyfriend of yours going to be worth anything beyond hauling you into bathrooms in the middle of the day? Does he know anything about home repair?”

She flushed, but Bo had said the words with no accusation in his tone, just a sad smile on his face. She shook her head. “He told me to buy a book.”

Bo sighed. “We’re in trouble. Well, show me your plans. Let’s see how screwed we are.”

He gave her that smile that lit up her world and reminded her of all the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. He was a sunny presence. He always made her laugh, and deep down, he understood her.

Trev was her lover, but she would miss Bo. She would miss him so much.

She showed him her list, and by the time they were done, she felt better.

She would find a way. She would fix her house, and she would keep Trev and Bo in her life. She needed them.

 

 

 

 

 

NY Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance and urban fantasy that she found the stories of her heart. She likes to find humor in the strangest places and believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome, or foursome may seem.

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Release Day Blitz…Timid by Devney Perry

 

Willa Doon has always been shy. Her quiet demeanor was something she’s always embraced. That is, until Jackson Page moves to town. The one man she desperately wants to take notice struggles to remember her name.

Year after year, Willa stands by, watching as the bartender slash playboy drowns his demons in beer and sex. Then one night, he shows up at her door, suddenly aware that the girl he’s seen around Lark Cove is now a beautiful woman.

Except what he doesn’t remember is that this visit isn’t his first. They spent a night together once before. A night he’s forgotten, thanks to a bottle of tequila.

A night that crushed a timid girl’s heart, and set a broken man on the path to heal them both.

 

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“Oh.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What, um . . .” Her fingers fiddled with the clip on the board. “What’s up?”

“You read my note?”

She nodded. “I did.”

“Good.” That meant we could move on from the whole me-calling-her-by-the-wrong-name thing and get to the days where she wasn’t slamming doors in my face. “Come to the bar and have dinner with me tonight.”

“Was that an invitation or a command?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

She frowned and I knew immediately that wasn’t the right thing to say. Without a word, she marched toward the building between the bunkhouses marked SHOWERS.

“Hey, wait!” I ran after her, but she was walking fast. “What about dinner?”

She didn’t answer. She just kept on marching all the way to the women’s side, disappearing inside without hesitation.

Well, fuck.

I guess my note hadn’t worked after all.

I debated going inside the showers but didn’t want to terrify a young girl if Willa wasn’t alone. So with a grumble and a kick at the dirt, I went back toward the parking lot.

I didn’t miss Hazel watching from a window in the lodge, laughing her ass off. At least I was entertaining her.

She’d be in for another show soon, because I’d be back again tomorrow.

 

 

Devney is the USA Today bestselling author of the Jamison Valley series. She lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories. Devney loves hearing from readers! Connect with her on social media.

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Unexpected by Aleatha Romig…Blog Tour & Review

 

 

 

 

*Paul*

What will happen… when Jenn learns the truth that has been brewing deep inside me?
…when she learns my desires have been restrained?
…when containing them is no longer possible?
Will she flee when there’s no place to run?

Traveling to the isolation of a tropical island, we agree to lay our marriage and our future on the line. It’s the only way to face the demons—my demons—that threaten our life together.
For us to make our marriage work, we must break down barriers, reveal the hidden places, and shine light where darkness has taken root.
This reprieve from life is meant to be about us, our marriage, and our future.
It is…until the unexpected happens…

Will our marriage survive? Will we?

This suspenseful, steamy stand-alone novella follows Paul and Jenn Masters, characters previously introduced in the novella UNCONVENTIONAL. This quick, spicy story may be read completely on its own or even before UNCONVENTIONAL.
If you enjoy a fast and furious, heart-thundering ride that leaves you breathless and perhaps a bit hot and bothered, check out New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig’s THE VAULT novellas: UNCONVENTIONAL and UNEXPECTED.

Have you been Aleatha’d?

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I close my eyes and allow my body to simply react.

It’s been too long.

It seems as if recently I’ve overthought everything—every action…word…everything—between Paul and me. The process is exhausting, and I’m too tired to continue. I don’t know what will happen over the next ten days. All I know is that I want what’s in front of me.

Forget that.

I want what’s intoxicating me—my husband’s embrace, the spicy scent of his skin, the way his erection probes my tummy through our clothes, and the sweet sensation of his kiss.

Sex may not save our marriage, but damn, right now as our kiss deepens, I’m on fire. Like a field of grass that’s withstood a drought, the flames grow. Small explosions detonate throughout my body—tiny flares roaring to a blaze and blasting our world. Each is a reminder that there’s been only one man who has ever made me feel completely and utterly loved, worshipped, and satisfied.

The one man who is with me now.

A moan escapes my lips as Paul reaches for the hem of my sundress and lifts it over my head. Just as quickly, he tugs off his own shirt, and I’m surrounded by his strong arms. His wide chest smashes against my breasts, and our hearts work together, the presence of the other increasing their rhythm. The faint taste of the salt air lingers on my lips as I kiss his neck, chest, and torso.

 

 

Unexpected is exactly what you get with this novella. It is short, hot with an unexpected twist.

It is a standalone and a great insight into what Aleatha’s “darker side” of her writing entails. If you have never read anything by her, this would be the perfect opportunity to see what all the excitement is about with her books. And for those of you who already read her books, this is quick and sexy read to hold you over til her next novel releases.

I won’t give you any more information than what the blurb tells you because this is such a short novella. I will tell you that I love how they are trying to save their marriage and in doing so, are willing to air out all their secrets.

It may be a quick read, but it is packed with some hot and steamy scenes along with a twist to keep your held in suspense til the end.

This is how novellas should be written!!

 

 

Aleatha Romig is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana, USA. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Aleatha has raised three children with her high school sweetheart and husband of over thirty years. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns, she likes to spend her time a with her family and friends. Her other pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams and bring your imagination to life!

Aleatha released her first novel, CONSEQUENCES, in August of 2011. CONSEQUENCES became a bestselling series with five novels and two companions released from 2011 through 2015. The compelling and epic story of Anthony and Claire Rawlings has graced more than half a million e-readers. Aleatha released the first of her series TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE, INSIDIOUS, in the fall of 2014. These stand alone thrillers continue Aleatha’s twisted style with an increase in heat.

In the fall of 2015, Aleatha moved head first into the world of dark romantic suspense with the release of BETRAYAL, the first of her five novel INFIDELITY series that has taken the reading world by storm. She also began her traditional publishing career with Thomas and Mercer. Her books INTO THE LIGHT and AWAY FROM THE DARK were published through this mystery/thriller publisher in 2016.

In the spring of 2017, Aleatha released her first stand-alone, fun, and sexy romantic comedy with PLUS ONE, followed by the sweet stand-alone, ONE NIGHT.

Aleatha is a “Published Author’s Network” member of the Romance Writers of America and PEN America. She is represented by Kevan Lyon of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

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