A Gentleman Never Tells By Eloisa James…Excerpt & Giveaway

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A Gentleman Never Tells

By Eloisa James

Avon Impulse

June 28, 2016

E-ISBN 9780062573063 * $.99

 

 

Purchase Link:

https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062573063/a-gentleman-never-tells

 

 

About the Book

A witty, sexy novella about a virgin widow and a rake with something to prove.

Eighteen months ago, Lizzie Troutt’s husband died in his mistress’s bed, leaving her determined to never marry again….and unfortunately virginal.

Eighteen years ago (give or take a few) the Honorable Oliver Berwick blackened his own soul, leaving him hardened and resolutely single.

When the chance for redemption in the form of a country house party invitation comes his way, Oliver is determined to prove himself a gentleman.

Until he breaks all the codes of gentlemanly behavior…once again.

 

Excerpt from A GENTLEMAN NEVER TELLS:

August 13, 1826
Telford Manor
Fontwell, Sussex

 

“I would prefer to take supper on a tray.” Lizzie didn’t look up from her book, because meeting her sister’s eyes would only encourage her.

She should have known Catrina wouldn’t back down. “Lizzie Troutt, your husband died over a year ago.”

“Really?” Lizzie murmured, turning a page. “How time flies.” In fact, Adrian had died eighteen months, two weeks, and four days ago.

In his mistress’s bed.

Lizzie,” Cat said ominously, sounding more like an older sister—which she was—with every word, “if you don’t get out of that bed, I shall drag you out. By your hair!”

Lizzie felt a spark of real annoyance. “You already dragged me to your house for this visit. The least you could do is to allow me to read my book in peace.”

“Ever since you arrived yesterday, all you’ve done is read!” Cat retorted.

“I like reading. And forgive me if I point out that Tolbert is not precisely a hotbed of social activity.” Cat and her husband, Lord Windingham, lived deep in Suffolk, in a dilapidated manor house surrounded by fields of sheep.

“That is precisely why we gather friends for dinner. Lord Dunford-Dale is coming tonight, and I need you to even the numbers. That means getting up, Lizzie. Bathing. Doing your hair. Putting on a gown that hasn’t been dyed black would help, too. You look like a dispirited crow, if you want the truth.”

Lizzie didn’t want the truth. In fact, she felt such a stab of anger that she had to fold her lips tightly together or she would scream at Cat.

It wasn’t her sister’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except her late husband’s, and he was definitely late—i.e., dead.

“I know you feel ashamed to be in company,” her sister continued, energetically digging her own grave, as far as Lizzie was concerned. “Unfortunately, most people are aware the circumstances of your marriage, not to mention the fact that Adrian was so imprudent as to die away from home.”

That was one way of putting it.

Imprudent.

“You make it sound as if he dropped a teacup,” Lizzie observed, unable to stop herself. “I would call the fact that Adrian died in the act of tupping Sadie Sprinkle inconsiderate in the extreme.”

“I refuse to allow you to wither away in bed simply because your husband was infatuated with Shady Sadie,” Cat said, using the term by which the gossip rags had referred to Adrian’s mistress. “You must put all that behind you. Sadie has another protector, and you are out of mourning. It’s time to stop hiding.”

“I am not hiding,” Lizzie said, stung. “I take fresh air and moderate exercise every day. I simply like reading in bed. Or in a chair.”

Or anywhere else, to tell the truth. Reading in a peaceful garden was an excellent way to take fresh air.

“Moderate exercise,” her sister said with palpable loathing. “You used to ride every day, for pleasure. We would practice archery on a fine day like this, or roam about the countryside, not sit inside reading.”

“Adrian’s stables were part of the entail, and went to his cousin,” Lizzie said, turning the page. She hadn’t read a word, but she was hoping that a show of indifference would drive her sister from the room.

“Not the mare that Papa gave you when you turned fourteen!” her sister gasped.

Showing masterly control, Lizzie didn’t roll her eyes. “A wife has no true possessions,” she said flatly. “Under the law, they belong to her husband, and Perdita was, therefore, transferred to the heir.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” Cat said, her voice woeful.

“It wasn’t so terrible,” Lizzie said, meaning it. “I went to the auction, and Perdita went to a family with a young girl. I’m certain that she is well cared for and happy.”

“Do you realize that by staying home and wearing black, you give the illusion that you are grieving for your husband?”

Lizzie’s hands tightened around her book. “Do you know what being a widow entails, Cat?”

“Wearing ugly black dresses for the rest of your natural life?”

“It means that I never again need put myself under the control of a man—any man. So, no, I have no interest in joining you at dinner. I know perfectly well that Lord Dimble-Dumble has been summoned to audition as my next husband. I don’t want him. I’d be more likely to come to dinner if you had invited the butcher.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Cat said, in a sudden digression. “Mr. Lyddle has developed a most unfortunate addiction to strong ale, and he’s regularly found lying about in the gutter singing, rather than butchering meat.”

“Who does the butchering now?” Lizzie asked, deciding to take a walk to the village and see this interesting musical event herself.

“His wife. My housekeeper says that she can get better cuts at a lower price these days. You’re trying to distract me with talk of singing drunkards,” Cat said, unfairly. “Let’s discuss your future.”

“Let’s not.”

“We might begin with the fact that you were never in love with Adrian.” Cat began walking around the bedchamber, waving her hands as she waxed eloquent about her late brother-in-law’s flaws.

She was preaching to the choir, so Lizzie stopped listening and just watched Cat pacing back and forth. How could it be that her older sister was positively frothing with life and energy and passion, while Lizzie felt like a tired, pale shadow?

Her hand crept toward her book. It wasn’t the most interesting novel in the world, but it had the inexpressible charm of being new.

Over the last eighteen months, Lizzie had read every novel she owned three times over. She would be quickly bankrupted if she bought more than two books a week, so one of the best things about visiting Telford Manor was access to her sister’s library.

Cat appeared to be hopeless at arranging a refurbishment of the manor—which desperately needed it—but she was very good at ordering novels. And clothing. If Lizzie looked like a black crow, Cat was a chic French peacock.

Lizzie raised her knees, surreptitiously propped her book against them, and slipped back in the story of Eveline, a sixteen-year-old girl being forced to marry an old man. She herself had been twenty when she walked down the aisle.

On the shelf.

Beggars can’t be choosers, her father had told her.

Her book suddenly vanished. “No reading!”

Cat was holding the novel above her head, for all the world as if they were children again. Lizzie used to hope that someday she’d grow up to be as commanding as her sister, but she had given up that idea long ago.

It wasn’t just a question of height. Her sister was the type of person who gathered everyone in a room around her, and Lizzie was the type of person whom they walked over on their way to be with Cat.

That sounded resentful, but Lizzie didn’t actually feel bitter. She would hate to be the center of attention. She wound her arms around her knees and propped her chin on them. “Cat, may I have my book back, please? It was a hard journey, and I’m tired.”

“What do you mean, a hard journey? It can’t have been more than a day and a half!”

“My coach is over twenty years old and the springs are worn out. It bounced so hard on the post road that I couldn’t keep my eyes on the page, and my tailbone still hurts.”

“If your jointure won’t extend to a new vehicle, Joshua or Papa would be happy to buy you a coach.”

Lizzie turned her head, putting her right cheek on her knees, and closed her eyes. “No.”

She heard her sister drop into the chair by the side of the bed. Then she heard a sigh. “Papa is getting old, Lizzie. He made a terrible mistake, and he knows it. He misses you. If you would just pay him a visit . . .”

“No.”

Why would she visit the father who had turned her away when she ran to him in desperation? The father who had known precisely what a disaster her marriage would be, but didn’t bother to warn her?

An hour or so after their wedding ceremony, Adrian had brought Lizzie, still wrapped in her bridal veil, to his mother’s faded, musty house, and informed her that he had no intention of living with her.

Not only that, but he was late to meet his lover for tea.

It had happened almost six years ago, but she could still remember her stupefaction. She’d been such a silly goose.

“But where do you live?” she had stammered.

“I bought Sadie a house, and we live there,” Adrian had said casually. When she frowned in confusion, he had added impatiently, “Sadie. Didn’t your father tell you her name?”

“Sadie? ”

For the first time—and in her experience, the last time—her husband had been a little defensive, even a trifle ashamed. “I never lied. He knows perfectly well that we will lead separate lives.”

“Perhaps you should explain to me,” Lizzie had said, “because my father unaccountably forgot to mention it. As did you, I might add.”

Adrian had unemotionally laid out the terms of her marriage. It seemed her father had paid a great deal of money to buy his daughter the title of Lady Troutt. For his part, Adrian had wed her for her dowry, and because he needed someone to care for his mother.

“The estate is entailed,” he had told her, glancing around the musty sitting room. “It goes to some distant cousin, along with the title, of course. I told your father that I wouldn’t be averse to trying for a child, once we’ve had time to get used to each other.”

Lizzie had just gaped at him.

“But we can’t bother with that now,” Adrian had told her briskly. “Sadie is upset about this mess, naturally enough. I promised her I’d be home by four. My mother takes her luncheon on a tray. There are a couple of maids, but it would be good if you could bring it in yourself. She complains of being lonely.”

After that, he left.

A few minutes later, Lizzie left as well. She went home.

Only to be sent back to her husband’s house.

There was no point in revisiting her father’s line of reasoning. Suffice it to say that no woman—even one who had abundant sensuality and beauty, which Lizzie did not— was capable of seducing a man who didn’t return to the house for a fortnight.

A man who doesn’t bother to consummate his marriage until he’s suffered a heart seizure and has, as the vulgar might put it, been given notice to quit.

A man who despises his lower-class wife, and never bothers to hide it.

 

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ejAbout the Author

ELOISA JAMES is a New York Times best-selling author and professor of English literature who lives with her family in New York, but can sometimes be found in Paris or Italy. She is the mother of two and, in a particularly delicious irony for a romance writer, is married to a genuine Italian knight. Visit her at www.eloisajames.com

 

Connect with Eloisa James

Website – http://www.eloisajames.com/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/eloisajames

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/eloisajames


Hard To Serve by Laura Kaye…Blog Tour Stop & Excerpt

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We hope you’re ready to heat things up with Laura Kaye’s HARD TO SERVE. Brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights, HARD TO SERVE is a standalone novella in her Hard Ink Series that also introduces her upcoming Blasphemy Series. Grab your copy of this steamy novella today!

 

 

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Laura Kaye’s HARD TO SERVE – Review & Excerpt Tour Schedule:

June 29th

Bookaliciousbabes – Review & Excerpt

Cocktails and Books – Review

MrsLeif’s Two Fangs About It – Excerpt

I Smell Sheep – Review

She Hearts Books – Review

Kelsey’s Corner Time – Review & Excerpt

Melena’s Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Coffee-Books-Life Blog – Review & Excerpt

The Book Hammock – Review & Excerpt

Young at Heart Reviews – Review & Excerpt

I Love Romance – Review

Straight Shootin’ Book Reviews – Review

June 30th

The Flare Up – Excerpt

Hea Romances With A Little Kick – Review & Excerpt

The Book Boyfriend Addict – Review & Excerpt

My Book Snack – Review & Excerpt

Toni Decker Books – Review & Excerpt

Books, Baking and Other Objects of Beauty – Review

Fangs, Wands and Fairy Dust – Review

Read-Love-Blog – Excerpt

GraveTells – Excerpt

Hot Guys in Books – Review & Excerpt

My Girlfriends Couch – Review & Excerpt

Krista’s Dust Jacket – Review & Excerpt

Lynn’s Romance Enthusiasm – Review & Excerpt

Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews – Review & Excerpt

July 1st

The Book Bellas – Excerpt

mignonmykel : reviews – Review & Excerpt

Love Affair With Fiction – Excerpt

Obsessive Reading Disorder – Review & Excerpt

Write for Your Life – Review & Excerpt

Books Need TLC – Review

Relentless Romance – Review & Excerpt

The book obsessed momma – Review

Red Hot + Blue Reads – Review & Excerpt

JordansBookReviews – Excerpt

Ripe For Reader – Review & Excerpt

Book Reader Chronicles – Review & Excerpt

July 2nd

Sister Spot Book Blog – Review & Excerpt

Vagabonda Reads – Review & Excerpt

NightWolf Book Blog – Review

Wicked Babes Blog Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Friends Till The End Book Blog – Excerpt

Books According to Abby – Review

JJ’s kinky books – Review & Excerpt

Bookaholics Not-So-Anonymous – Review & Excerpt

we stole your book boyfriend – Review & Excerpt

Nose Stuck in a Book – Excerpt

Little Read Riding Hood – Review & Excerpt

The bookworms obsession blog – Review

July 3rd

Those Crazy Book Chicks – Review & Excerpt

Feeling Fictional – Review

Ever After Book Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Brittany’s Book Blog – Excerpt

The Reading Cafe – Review

Sweet Reads: You’re In For A Treat – Review & Excerpt

Deluged with Books Cafe – Excerpt

The Recipe Fairy – Review & Excerpt

Books, Books The Magical Fruit – Excerpt

Reese’s Reviews – Excerpt

Sofia Loves Books – Review

July 4th

Alphas Do It Better Book Blog – Review

Wicked Reads – Review & Excerpt

Southern Vixens Book Obsessions – Excerpt

Embrace Your Book Addiction – Review & Excerpt

A Little Fiction of Every Flavour – Review

Becky on Books – Review

Nice Ladies, Naughty Books – Review

Romancing the Readers – Review

Wickedcoolflight – Review & Excerpt

Indy Book Fairy – Excerpt

Literary Dust – Review

July 5th

Socially Awkward Book Nerd – Excerpt

East Coast Book Chicks – Review & Excerpt

Carol Kittie Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Booklover Sue – Excerpt

Always YA at Heart – Review & Excerpt

Novel Addiction – Review & Excerpt

AC BOOK BLOG – Review & Excerpt

V’s Reads – Review

Cara’s Book Boudoir – Review & Excerpt

JB’s Book Obsession – Review & Excerpt

Reads All the Books – Review & Excerpt

Reviews from the Heart – Review & Excerpt

July 6th

Bloggin’ With M.Brennan – Review

A Tasty Read Book Reviews – Review

Somewhere Lost in Books – Review & Excerpt

The Book Junkie – Review & Excerpt

Nerdy Dirty & Flirty – Review

The Romance Reviews – Review

Books 2 Blog – Review & Excerpt

The Book Reading Gals – Review & Excerpt

The BookWhisperer – Review

What I’m Reading – Review & Excerpt

Four Chicks Flipping Pages – Review

Renee Entress’s Blog – Review & Excerpt

July 7th

BooksandMe – Review & Excerpt

Dark Faerie Tales – Review & Excerpt

Stephanie’s Book Reports – Review

Abibliophobia Anonymous Book Reviews – Review

Cafinated Reads – Review & Excerpt

Lucky 13 Book Reviews and News – Review & Excerpt

Two Girls with Books –Review & Excerpt

Talking Books Blog – Excerpt

July 8th

FMR Book Grind – Review

Ramblings From This Chick – Excerpt

G & T’s Indie Café – Excerpt

Love Drug Book Blog – Review

Only One More Page – Review & Excerpt

HeadTripping Books – Review & Excerpt

Book Lovers 4Ever – Review & Excerpt

 

 

 

 

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About HARD TO SERVE:

To protect and serve is all Detective Kyler Vance ever wanted to do, so when Internal Affairs investigates him as part of the new police commissioner’s bid to oust corruption, everything is on the line. Which makes meeting a smart, gorgeous submissive at an exclusive play club the perfect distraction…

The director of the city’s hottest art gallery, Mia Breslin’s career is golden. Now if only she could find a man to dominate her nights and set her body—and her heart—on fire. When a scorching scene with a hard-bodied, brooding Dom at Blasphemy promises just that, Mia is lured to serve Kyler again and again.

As their relationship burns hotter, Kyler runs into Mia at work and learns that he’s been dominating the daughter of the hard-ass boss who has it in for him. Now Kyler must choose between life-long duty and forbidden desire before Mia finds another who’s not so hard to serve.

 

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Announcing a New Erotic Romance Series from Laura Kaye…

BLASPHEMY – the club first introduced in Hard to Serve

From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

Bound to Submit is coming September 13, 2016

PRE-ORDER BOUND TO SUBMIT:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble (Coming Soon) | iBooks  | Kobo 

 

 

Laura Kaye - author picAbout Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

 

 

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His Assurance by Thia Finn…Release Day Event

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Title: His Assurance

Series: Assured Distraction, #3

Author: Thia Finn

Genre: Contemporary Rockstar Romance

Release Date: June 30th

 

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 Blurb

One hot sizzling night with a beautiful woman in Paris! That’s what Gunner Wallace, Assured Distractions’ drummer, wants to recreate when he finally sees her again in Austin, TX. He plans to pick up exactly where they left off since he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that night.

Take your sister and friends to Austin to a music festival! That’s Lola’s mother’s idea for celebrating Journey’s twenty-first birthday. Now Lola’s stuck babysitting five wild college girls for a week in Austin. The only perk, the hot drummer Gunner Wallace. Lola never forgot the night they spent together while he was on tour. Now what did she tell him while they were together? If only she could remember.

Join Assured Distraction on their third adventure of Rock and Roll and Love!

 

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 Excerpt

Excerpt from His Assurance (Assured Distraction #3)
© Thia Finn 2016

I wrapped around her allowing the perfect tits to scrape lightly up and down my pecs. The warm water added another layer of sensation as the pink tips pebbled. Under the moonlight, they looked like heaven slightly bobbing in the water against my chest. I backed off enough to take one of the stiff peaks in my mouth tonguing and sucking it until I felt her move against my waist, trying to cause more friction where she needed it.

“We need to move this party of two so I can touch bottom. I want to be able to get to all of you.” I maneuvered our warm, wet bodies up the slope.She still had to bounce a little on her tiptoes, keeping her a little off-balance. I liked it because it gave me more control. I put her hands beside her head on the coping, so she held herself above the water.

“Hold on, MaCheri.”

I went under water and found the low riding shorts that had been driving me crazy all day. When she moved the right way, a little strip of tanned skin peeked out to tease me. I couldn’t resist nipping around her navel ring that slightly dangled as I unbuttoned the offenders and slid those tiny panties off at the same time. Lightly sliding my index finger over her bare lips without breaking the seam, I heard her give a little gasp at the tender touch. Between the friction from before and those sexy noises she made, my dick was standing at full attention, waiting his turn.

I replaced my finger with my tongueand broke the surface of the water as I ran my tongue up her midline from pussy to chin. The scorching look she gifted me with made him harden even more. Damn, I needed this girl and her sweet pussy.

I stood and looked down at her. “Damn Lola, you are so beautiful.”

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Assure Her (Assured Distraction #1)

Assure Her

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Chandler Chatam, fresh out of Juilliard, finds herself temporarily playing with four hot rockers of Assured Distraction, an up-and-coming band, out on their first big tour. She’s lead a sheltered life of luxury and is determined to make the most of this tour as part of the band until her world is suddenly turned upside down. Then more life-shattering news alters the course she’s set for herself.

Meeting Chandler at her audition for a temporary spot in Assured Distraction, lead singer Keeton MacDonald flashes a panty-dropping smile knowing that a woman is sure to wreak havoc on the bus for this bunch of guys looking to enjoy the perks of life on the road as the rock stars they are.
Assured Distraction’s tour is the beginning of a raucous journey for them all that leads to fun days, exciting concerts, and hot nights.

Not just a life on the bus story, but a story about living messy lives in the real world.

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His Distraction (Assured Distraction #2)

His Distraction

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Assured Distraction is headed to Europe as the opening band for Ryder Steel and it’s going to be epic!

Being on tour is amazing for this hot new alternative band, but it’s not so great for relationships as Ryan lead guitarist for the band soon finds out.

Ryan has been working hard to make it big but his girlfriend wants 2.5 kids.

He wants his band to be on top.

Peri has finally landed her dream job as tour manager of Assured Distraction, life has never been better.
When she heads out on tour with the band she isn’t looking for love, but when love literally falls into her hotel room she embraces it.

With love though comes complications that she must weave her way around or give it up.

But Peri has never been a quitter, and this time is no exception.

Follow Assured Distraction’s European tour that promises adrenaline pumping concerts and hot sexy nights.

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 10 Things...

Ten Things My Readers Might Not Know

 

1.  I spend my free time riding ATVs in mud, sand, beach, trails, and rocks.

2.  I have my license to drive a motorcycle.

3.  I vacation at least once every year at an island in the Caribbean.

4.  I wrote my first book at seventeen but didn’t publish a book until I was fifty something.

5.  I have only lived in two homes in my forty years of marriage.

6.  I taught sixth through eighth grade for 34 years.

7.  I think some of my family (and maybe a few friends) have disowned me for the books I’ve written.

8.  I’ve captain and crewed a Hobie catamaran in the lakes, rivers, Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean.

9.  I got married at eighteen, then got a BA and MA and had children.

10. I’ve had the same best friend since I was eight.

 

About the Author

Thia

Growing up in small town Texas, Thia Finn discovered life outside of it by attending The University of Texas, only to return home and marry her high school sweetheart. They raised two successful and beautiful daughters while she taught middle school Language Arts and eventually became a middle school librarian. After thirty-four years, she retired to do her favorite things, like travel, spend time off-roading with family and friends, hanging out at the Frio River, reading, and writing.

She currently lives in the same small town where she grew up, with her husband and the boss, Titan, the Chihuahua. She can often be found stalking on social media, watching Outlanders, Vikings or Game of Thrones to name a few on Netflix.

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Drifter by Kathy Coopsman…Excerpt Reveal

the drifter excerpt reveal [22233]

Excerpt

I’m a lonely man. I choose to be this way. I had true love with her. It didn’t matter how old we were, or how young; once you have it, you never let it go. You spend a lifetime together. And I pissed it away. Underlining painful memories have inflicted punishment on my tattered soul for years. Besides Rori and Muriel, those two things are the only constant impressions that have kept me going. If I didn’t feel the need to live with a constant dagger shoved through my heart, I would have let myself whittle away years ago. It’s distressing, to say the least, that the pain I’ve caused is the only thing I’ve let rule my life. I’m living in hell every day, repeatedly burning from the inside out since day one. I will never forget the first time I was rejected in New York, how badly I wanted to call her and beg her to forgive me. I couldn’t do it, and I knew it. I jumped in the shower instead, rinsed off the dirt and grime, then pressed my forehead to the yellow tiles. Hot water beat down my back. I vowed not to cry, even though my heart ached and my lungs felt like they were working overtime to help me breathe. I caved and fell to the shower floor, my fist pounding and beating the wall in front of me until I became numb to the shooting pain filtering from my hands all the way to my shoulders, twining up around my neck until I choked from the lump lodged in my throat. Nausea bubbled up, and I vomited the contents from earlier in the day. The rancid smell left me dry heaving and an oversized human slumped over in the small confinement that the pain from missing her had left me in. When the water ran cold, I lay there shivering, wishing for nothing but her. Once I composed myself, I crawled back up and cleaned and towel-dried off, only to climb into an empty, cold bed, tired and defeated, scared to close my eyes, because when I did, all I saw was her. Several nights I repeated the same thing until the real life nightmares struck me hard, leaving me in this worst shape of my life. For years, I’ve been honest with myself over and over again, saying I deserve every chip and break my heart feels when her birthday or Christmas come around. It’s like this infinite cloud that hangs dormant over my head: dark and gloomy, cold and wet. It will never go away. Now that I’ve seen her, and even though I’m walking back down The Strip with no idea where I’m going, the memories that were once happy become so unpleasant I could easily bleed my life dry. Desperation pools around me. Panic sets in. What if she’s gone and I never see her again?

Photo of the woman covering breast on black background

 

The Drifter by Kathy Coopmans is a heartfelt romance you are going to want to one-click!

the drifter coming soon [22232]

Releasing July 11th.

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1RWK7BH

the drifter cover reveal [22231]

Blurb

To the outside world, Kray Brooks had it all growing up.

Wealth. The devoting parents.

The beautiful girlfriend.

Good grades.

All of it a lie, except her. The woman he left behind thirteen years ago to try and achieve his real dream… to become a musician.

Life doesn’t always go according to the plan you set out for yourself.

Sometimes, you drift. Become lost, lose hope and crash.

For thirteen years he’s been drifting wherever his guitar takes him, avoiding his past. Never thinking of his future.

Not once did he think it would all catch up to him. Until it did.

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

About the Author:

Kathy Coopmans

kathy coopmans [22236]

USA Today Best-Selling Author Kathy Coopmans, lives in Michigan with her husband Tony where they have two grown sons.

After raising her children she decided to publish her first book and retiring from being a hairstylist.

She now writes full time.

She’s a huge sports fan with her favorite being Football and Tennis.

She’s a giver and will do anything she can to help another person succeed!

Use whichever one of these you would like babe.

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A Fine Mess by Kelly Siskind….Excerpt Reveal

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Title: A Fine Mess

Author: Kelly Siskind

Series: Over The Top, #2

On Sale: August 2, 2016

Publisher: Forever

Format: eBook

Price: $3.99 USD

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BLURB

Some guys should come with a warning label…

Sawyer West is Mr. One-Night Stand. He doesn’t do relationships or promises or feelings. He’s never cared enough to get involved. Until Lily Roberts. She’s sweet and shy and sexy as sin, and resisting her is testing his self-control. She believes Sawyer can be a better man, and for the first time in his life, he wants to be. But change isn’t easy, and Sawyer would do anything to protect Lily from his past self. Even break his own heart…

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 EXCERPT

Sawyer steps close and waits for me to make eye contact. Slowly, I lift my gaze to his gold-flecked brown eyes, but I can’t find my voice. It’s like I don’t know how to talk to him anymore.

He grins. “Hi.”

From my angle it’s easy to see the scar running down his neck, the remnant of a fall he took through a coffee table while wrestling with his brother. I’ve always wanted to touch it, feel the puckered skin under my fingers. I drop my gaze, but it doesn’t help. The cuffs of his gray button-down are rolled to his elbows, roped muscle exposed below. Something else I’d like to touch.

I blink hard. “Hi,” I say to my feet.

“Look at me, Lil.” I rock on my heels, then do as asked. He raises an eyebrow. “How fucking weird is this?”

My giggle surprises me, and I loosen my grip on my wineglass. “Totally weird.”

Thank God for Sawyer’s candid nature.

He sips his drink, probably Scotch, and a sheen of liquid clings to his bottom lip.

Touch that arm. Kiss that scar. Taste those lips. None of these urges are new, but they’re heightened. Magnified. He watches me watching him, his gaze as probing as mine. What is he thinking?

Then the music changes.

A remix of Madonna’s “Holiday” plays, and Sawyer does Sawyer. He tips his head to the right, his shoulders following, then he pushes out his hip and rolls his torso through. The guy does body waves, alternating from side to side, like he’s in an eighties music video.

People stop. People look. People laugh.

I snort, an unattractive sound I make when my laughter takes over. Sawyer says it sounds like a hyena with sleep apnea. When I snort a second time, he dances harder, and I crack up. My belly aches as he gets into it, the entire room watching now.

I suck in a breath, place my empty glass on the table behind me, then clasp his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

He stops dancing. “Making things less weird.”

“Less? What about you channeling Paula Abdul is less weird?”

“Did you laugh?”

I grin.

Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

The music vibrates in my chest, or maybe it’s his proximity. “Sorry about what?”

“Last week, when you called, I was a dick. You caught me by surprise, and I didn’t handle it well. So, I’m sorry.”

His admission pumps through my core like helium, my body nearly weightless. The confession shouldn’t be surprising, not with how he speaks his mind, but it’s been a week of silence. I was losing hope things could return to the way they were, or progress past it. I step closer, so he can hear me over the noise. “Apology accepted, but do I get an explanation?”

He drags his gaze down my body. It’s a thorough perusal—intimate, penetrating—flames sparking along my skin. His eyes linger on me, but he doesn’t speak. He rolls the pinky ring on his left hand the way he does when he’s puzzling something out. An ache travels up my thighs, heat expanding below my ribs. The longer he stays quiet, the more my skin tingles.

Finally, he releases his ring and slides his hand over my lower back. He leans forward and whispers, “I’ve wanted to do very dirty things to you and with you since Aspen, but I care about you too much to act on it. Hence my dickishness and the weirdness.”

 

THE OVER THE TOP SERIES

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My Perfect Mistake, #1

A Fine Mess, #2

Series page on Goodreads

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.

She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings-Gummy Bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.

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Into The Nothing by B.T. Urruela…Blog Tour Stop & Excerpt

Title: Into the Nothing
Series: Broken Outlaw #1
Author: BT Urruela
Release Date: June 21, 2016
Xander Evans has been on the road for many years. Never settling. Always moving from one place to another, unable to let go of his past. He lived a tragic childhood, spending most of those years in foster care. He’s never felt like he’s had a home. That is until he stops in the small town of Truman Valley, Missouri, where he meets a woman who will change everything he’s ever known.
Paige Watson has it all. A loving family, beautiful home, and a great career. The only thing she’s missing….is love. After escaping an abusive relationship, she opens her heart up to a stranger. He is unlike any man she’s ever met. He came into her life and turned it completely upside down. Everything is perfect. That is, until one fateful night. 
A night that would tear the Watson family apart, never to be put back together again. 
A night that would send Xander away to prison for life.
“How about twenty questions?” I ask.
“I hate twenty questions.”
“How about five questions, then?”
He cracks a smile and lifts an eyebrow. “How about three?”
“Deal!”
“So, have I mentioned how much I fucking hate Tuesdays?” Brandi’s voice cuts right between us. Xander looks relieved.
Me? Not so much. “Damn it, Brandi!”
“What?”
“Oh nothing. Can you grab me Fireball though? Pretty please. Two of them.” I look at Xander. “You’re taking one.”
“Three. I am too, bitch! Fuck Tuesdays!” Brandi calls out from across the bar as she begins filling the shot glasses from the Fireball chiller.
“Question one. You said you’ve been traveling for a while now, right? Do you ever get tired of it? Ever feel like settling?”
“Damn. Starting out with the heavy hitters, huh?” He eyes the shot glasses as if hoping it will somehow make them fill faster.
“Need me to go easier on you? Maybe a finger or two first before I go in with the whole fist?”
He looks at me in disbelief. “Did you really just say that?”
“Just answer the question, two fingers or three?”
BT Urruela was an infantryman in the US Army from August 2004 until February 2011. At the end of a year long tour to Baghdad, Iraq, his vehicle was hit by two roadside bombs, which took his right leg below the knee and the life of his commander. He was awarded a Purple Heart for his wounds, an Army Commendation Medal, and Combat Infantryman’s Badge. He medically retired from the Army in 2011 and moved to Tampa, FL where he currently works as a Director and Brand Ambassador for VETSports, a veteran community sports nonprofit he co-founded in 2012. He also conducts motivational speeches, works as a cover and fitness model and he’s a personal performance trainer. He co-wrote the military romance novel A Lover’s Lament and will be releasing his debut solo novel, Into the Nothing, on June 21st, 2016.

 

The Matchmaker’s Replacement by Rachel Van Dyken….Excerpt Reveal

 

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VanDyken-TheMatchmakersReplacement-CV-FL-vC6-RGBWingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them.

Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her.

But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away.

Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

 

 

I hated him.

HATED him.

Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass.

I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire.

Seriously.

The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic.

I shuddered.

I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes.

The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper.

Box number two?

Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination.

On the outside? The perfect man.

With a brooding and sultry smile.

Biceps the size of my head.

Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me.

Whatever. I was over it. So over it.

A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right?

Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots.

Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size.

He’d smiled.

His dimples had deepened.

He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back.

Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face.

My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil.

I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own.

Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal.

“Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest.

“Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.”

“Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs.

I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung.

“Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell.

He was a freak like that.

For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine.

Even his breath.

Damn him.

He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath.

It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close!

Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites.

A pencil flew by my head.

“Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.”

I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness.

“Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—”

I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’”

He snorted. “You wish.”

“Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?”

My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.”

Lex sighed and held out his hand.

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.”

Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?”

“Lex—”

“If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.”

“Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?”

“Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .”

Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.”

“What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.”

And another insult.

“Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.”

“Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.”

“That easy?”

“Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.”

“Suck?”

“At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned.

“Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.”

“If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.”

His lips descended.

They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.”

“What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.”

“What!” I roared.

“So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I do!”

“Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!”

“Weird, because it so often is.”

“I hate today.”

“Is it the rain?” He frowned.

“It’s not—”

“It is.”

“Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.”

“Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words.

“Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took.

“Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.”

“What about a passionate kiss?”

“A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?”

Heat swamped my cheeks.

“How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?”

“Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five.

“You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.”

Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across.

He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.”

I kept my eyes open.

So did he.

I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” That stupid smirk was back.

“Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to.

“You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it.

With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back.

I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink.

And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip.

That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone.

It did nothing of the sort.

Nothing of the sort at] all.

With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul.

 

 

 

 

rachelborderRachel 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, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

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Stealing Home by Nicole Williams….Excerpt Reveal


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Coming July 10th

 

Pre-order exclusively on iBooks HERE

 

Add to your Goodreads shelf now.

 

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Being the only woman working for a professional baseball team isn’t easy. As the San Diego Shock’s newest athletic trainer, Allie knows all about long hours, endless travel, and warding off players’ advances. Given she’s already the subject of a handful of rumors about how “lucky” she was to have earned such a coveted position, she can’t so much as flutter an eyelash a player’s way if she wants to be taken seriously.

 

But number eleven is doing more than fluttering eyelashes Allie’s way. Far more. Luke Archer is at the top of his game and doesn’t let the fear of striking out keep him from swinging. This is a motto he applies both on and off the field, but Allie appears immune, seeming to view Luke as nothing more than caution tape on legs.

 

He’s a player, and in Allie’s experience, they’re all the same. She won’t risk her job or her heart to another one, no matter how different this one claims to be. But as Allie gets to know him, she discovers the number eleven the public thinks they know is very different from the real Luke Archer. He seems too good to be true.

 

And maybe he is.

 

Allie will have to confront the stories attached to a player of Luke Archer’s stature and decide who she’ll put her faith in—The man she’s falling for? Or the rumors?

 

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CHAPTER ONE

Working for a professional baseball team was going to be the end of my love life. The past two years confirmed that theory, as had the last text I’d received from my latest ex-boyfriend.

           Half of the year on the road added to another half of the year working grueling hours that rivaled a doctor’s first year of residency equaled a whole lot of no free time to fill with a social agenda. Since being hired on by the San Diego Shock this season and the San Francisco Kings the year before that, the longest relationship I’d maintained spanned eight weeks.

           This last one had barely cleared the four-week mark.

My lifestyle was costly, but it was worth it. Baseball was in my blood, and sports medicine was in my heart.

           I’d grown up in a small Midwest town where people still got together for potlucks and everyone from the town hermit to the mayor attended a funeral. Where the only place you were expected to be after church on a Sunday was stretched out on the bleachers around the baseball field. It didn’t matter if it was a T-ball game or the high school championships—the bleachers were always packed.

Baseball was a religion where I grew up—it was stitched into the fibers of my life—so it was no surprise when I ended up with a baseball player. No, the surprise came after I’d followed him to college and found him in bed with someone else.

           It had taken the wind right out of me, along with my tendency to trust first and doubt after. Ben had been sleeping around for a while by the time I found out—friends had known and said nothing—and that was the day I made a promise to myself to never let another guy hurt me as he had, to never be made a fool of like that.

After changing schools mid-year, I started studying sports medicine and never looked back. Or at least not often. I only looked back when I found myself feeling something similar to what I’d felt for Ben. The relationship never lasted long after that.

           As evidenced by my newest failed relationship.

           “Whose ass do I need to kick, Doc?”

           Dropping my phone into my lap, I looked across the aisle to see who was sliding into the row across from me.

Luke Archer.

Known to fans as the best hitter on the Shock, if not in all of pro baseball. Known to women for his good looks and up-to-no-good smile. Known to Cosmo magazine as being voted the Finest Ass in professional baseball. And known by the athletic training staff as a well-rounded pain in our asses.

           Not because he thought he knew better or was yet another prima donna—which the sport had no shortage of—but because he held to the old-school code of taking care of an injury by “walking it off.” If that didn’t work, then we could usually convince him to pop one or two pain relievers after the game, and sometimes, if he was feeling especially accommodating, he’d accept a bag of ice.

           Luke Archer was the real man of steel, and no one to date had managed to convince him he was also made of those injury-prone materials known as flesh and blood.

           “Doc?” Archer’s voice broke through my haze of thoughts. “Just give me his name and I’ll take care of it.”

The rest of the team and staff were shuffling down the aisle between us to find their seats on the team jet, but his stare aimed my way felt unyielding.

           “What makes you think anyone’s ass deserves a kicking?” I asked.

I returned a high-five as Reynolds passed by. He’d twisted his ankle in the game earlier today, and I’d been the first on the field to get him taken care of. I’d been the last one out of the locker room to finish getting him taken care of too. As a noob, I had to work twice as hard. As a woman, I had to work ten times as hard.

           “I have three younger sisters. I have more experience than most with guys deserving ass kickings.”

           The last of the guys wandered by us. Without the break of their bodies coming between us, Archer’s stare became too intense. His eyes seemed capable of pinning me to the back of the seat.

           The head athletic trainer, Dax Shepherd, attended to the “money” players—the ones like Archer, who brought fans to the stadium and were a large part of the Shock’s impressive win-to-loss ratio. Up until this very moment, I didn’t know Luke Archer was aware of my existence on this team or the planet.

           “You really have three younger sisters?” I asked.

Unlike most of the female populace, I didn’t know every last fact about Luke Archer. The news about his parents had made headlines a few years back, and that was all I knew about his personal life.

           “I really do. And I talk to or text all of them every day.”

           “Plus you kick asses for them.”

           Archer’s hazel eyes lightened. “Plus that.” He twisted in his seat so he was almost facing me, his eyes dropping to the phone in my lap. “So? No one messes with my sisters. And no one messes with my team.”

           My forehead creased. “I’m not one of your teammates.”

           “You’re a part of my team. Just because you don’t play the field or swing a bat doesn’t mean you’re not. You keep us healthy and strong out there.” When I cocked an eyebrow, he added, “And when we get injured, you make sure we get fixed up quickly so we can get back to doing what we love. You’re every bit as vital to this team as . . .” He glanced up and down the aisle like he was looking for someone to fill in the blank with.

           “As Luke Archer?” I completed for him.

           His answer to that was a lifting of his eyes. “I’m one man who can swing one bat.”

           “One bat really, really hard. And very, very exactly,” I interjected.

           He continued, “You make sure twenty-five men can keep swinging their own bats.”

           “Well, there’s me, the two other athletic trainers, the physical therapist, the personal trainers, and the actual doctor who help out with that too. I can’t take all of the credit.”

           “Come on. You work twice as hard as any of them, so you should at least take most of the credit.” When his phone started chiming in his slacks’ pocket, he pulled it out, turned it off, and hid it back in his pocket.

           “And since the closest Shepherd and Coach Beckett have let me get to you is handing out a water bottle, how would you know that?”

           He pointed at his eyes. “I’ve got two of these and use them for observation on occasion.”

           “When they’re not searching for your next conquest?” I gave an internal groan the moment after I’d voiced something that should have stayed unsaid.

           My relationships with the players had always been professional and rarely, if ever, delved into the realm of personal information. If it didn’t have to do with preventing or tending to injuries, I didn’t bring it up.

           Until now. When I’d just suggested that Luke Archer had a reputation in every city the Shock had visited, every hotel they’d stayed in. Perfect way for my first real conversation with the star player of the team, and the whole of professional baseball, to go.

           Archer stayed quiet, studying me with that tipped smile he was famous for.

           “You know my opinion on rumors?” he said a minute later.

           I was capable of nothing more than shaking my head.

           “That they’re started by haters. Spread by fools. And accepted by idiots.”

           My head tipped. “Are you calling me an idiot?”

           His eyes flashed. “Are you calling me a manwhore?”

           I studied him lounging in his seat with his legs kicked out in front of him, his wide chest stretching beneath his suit jacket, his long arms resting on the armrests.. His body was enough to weaken the resolve of someone as jaded to player players as I was, but his face didn’t play second-string.

           Brown hair lightened by the sun, smooth skin darkened by it, a strong jaw, and hazel eyes that trended more toward the green end of the spectrum; Luke Archer was quite possibly the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. According to Sports Anonymous’s random poll of five thousand women, he was the best-looking guy in professional sports today. The other few billion women on the planet would have agreed with that title, I assumed.

           “Do you always take so long to answer a question?” Archer motioned at me, waiting.

           “No,” I said, recalling the last question he’d asked me. Snap out of it. “I don’t think that you’re a  . . . manwhore,” I whispered the last part.

I’d had enough experience with the rumor mill to be a sympathetic party to the target of so many. Being one of the first and only female athletic trainers in professional sports had opened me up to a hundred rumors when I’d been hired. All versions of them had to do with me fucking my way into the position.

           “Good.” Archer nodded, seeming satisfied. “Because you certainly don’t seem like an idiot.”

           “Thanks?”

           He nodded again. “Welcome.”

           That was when the pilot’s voice echoed through the team jet, running through his usual spiel. We were leaving Tampa and heading up to Chicago. Now that the season was in full swing, I lost track of the cities we were leaving and the ones we were heading toward. All of my attention was focused on the players and getting them through the season as injury-free as possible.

           “I’m still waiting for that name, Doc.” Archer clicked his seat belt into place when one of the attendants stopped beside him, looking ready to strap it into place for him.

           When she saw mine unfastened, all I got was a lifted brow and a pointed finger before she moved on to the next aisle.

           “Oh, it’s okay. He’s not worth it.” I lifted my phone toward him before dropping it in the duffel bag I kept on hand at all times. Bandages, tape, painkillers, and a small cooler of ice packs were always at the ready whenever I was with the team. “Any guy who breaks up with someone via text message isn’t worth much.”

           “Really? Over text?” Archer’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the reason the ass-kicking was invented. For those types of guys.”

           I shrugged as the plane started to taxi down the runway, the interior lights dimming. “We haven’t even been together a month. Truthfully, it lasted longer than I thought it would. This kind of lifestyle”—I twirled my finger around the airplane—“makes it difficult to sustain a long-term relationship.”

           “That’s why I’m not a fan of them.”

           “Long-term relationships?”

           Any kind of relationship,” he said.

           I nodded my understanding. The players had it worse than the team staff. At least in terms of having to question if a person was into them for who they were or because of their job, and the fame and money that came with it.

           “I’m either practicing for a game, playing a game, recovering from a game, or fueling up and resting for a game. There’s not time for much else,” he said.

           Leaning into my armrest, I realized how strange it was to be having such an easy conversation with Luke Archer. It felt natural, not forced. Most of the players would take a moment to chat with me about something game-related, but I was still the new kid on the block. I felt like I had to pass some test before they’d accept me as a member of the team.

           Archer didn’t seem to be of the same mind though.

           “Yeah, I know. It’s like you need to find someone who can just travel with you wherever you go, right?” I said, thinking how much easier it would to be in a relationship with someone I got to see on a daily basis without two computer screens.

           “Exactly. Someone who understands the lifestyle. Appreciates the sacrifices you have to make.”

My head fell back into the headrest from the inertia of takeoff, but I could still feel Archer’s eyes on me. “Someone who understands that the job comes first. Someone who doesn’t get insecure or jealous or bent out of shape that they get the few precious minutes in between the job.”

           When my head turned toward him again, I found Luke Archer staring at me with a kind of intensity I hadn’t seen aimed my way in a long time. My breath caught, and even though the strength of his stare threatened to overwhelm me, I held his gaze.

           “Someone who understands the game. The commitment. The time. The sacrifice. Someone who’s as committed to it as you are.” One corner of his mouth twitched, carving a dimple into his cheek. “It’s not like you could ever expect to find a person like that sitting in the row across the aisle from you, right?”

 

 

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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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The Briarwood Academy by Ilsa Madden Mills…New Covers!

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Re-Reveal! New Name! New covers!

Welcome to Briarwood Academy where love can be a little bad, a lot wicked, and sometimes twisted.

FOUR RED-HOT BOOKS about the BAD, WICKED and TWISTED characters of Briarwood Academy, featuring a dirty-talking gym owner, a football player, a sexy rock star, and a British bad boy.

ALL BOOKS ARE ON SALE and FREE ON Kindle Unlimited!

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Very Bad Things (Book One)

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ONLY $0.99 (Standalone)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/28XHrd6

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2928nc2

Blurb

Leaving behind her mansion and Jimmy Choos, Nora Blakely becomes a girl hell-bent on pushing the limits with alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex.

Then she meets her soulmate, but he doesn’t want her.

Sexy gym owner Leo Tate has one rule: never fall in love…until Nora shows up with her list of bad things. He resists the pull of their sizzling connection, hung up on their age difference.

 

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Very Wicked Beginnings

(Dovey and Cuba–prequel novella)

ONLY $0.99

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/298pLcW

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/28VL91T

Blurb

When wicked ballerina Dovey Beckham meets football star Cuba Hudson, she didn’t plan on having her heart shattered into a million pieces. He’s the bad boy with a dark past, and when he falls for Dovey, he knows she can’t be part of his future.

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Very Wicked Things

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Blurb

Dovey Beckham is a ballerina from the wrong side of the tracks. Cuba “Hollywood” Hudson is a wealthy football player with fast cars and even faster girlfriends.

 

Their passion is electric, their connection deep, but once in a lifetime kind of love doesn’t come easy, especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling.

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Very Twisted Things

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(Standalone- Violet and Sebastian)

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Blurb

Violet St. Johns is a talented violinist hiding out in a Hollywood mansion, struggling to forget the devastation of her parent’s sudden death.

Vital Rejects front man Sebastian Tate sees the elusive girl in the mansion next door playing her violin nude, and they begin an erotic game of spying.

When they finally come face-to-face, sparks fly and clothes comes off. But giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.

 

 

ilsa madden bioAbout the Author

Wall Street Journal best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, and Instagram.

She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.

When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

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Amazon Page: http://amzn.to/28YqMm8

 

VERY BAD THINGS

Designer: Luminos Graphic House

Photography:Michael Stokes

Model: Leon Scott

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VERY WICKED THINGS

Designer: Luminos Graphic House

Photography: Michael Stokes

Model: Attila Toth

VERY TWISTED THINGS

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Photography: Michael Stokes

Model: Mike Thurstson

The British are HERE!  

DIRTY ENGLISH

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1VMSen6

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Are you ready for Filthy English?

Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk

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$25 Amazon Gift Card

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Hard to Serve by Laura Kaye…Release Day Event

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Domineering lover kisses his sexy submissive in loft interior

 

We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the Release Day Launch for Laura Kaye’s HARD TO SERVE! Brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights, HARD TO SERVE is a standalone novella in her Hard Ink Series that also introduces her upcoming Blasphemy Series. Check out the note and excerpt from Laura below and grab your copy of this steamy novella today!

So many readers asked for more stories in my bestselling Hard Ink series, and I’m so excited to be able to give you just that in my new, super sexy HARD TO SERVE! HARD TO SERVE is an edgy stand-alone love story about a Baltimore police detective whose red-hot BDSM relationship with a new submissive seems like the perfect distraction from a trumped-up investigation against him until he learns that the woman is his boss’s daughter. Talk about sparks flying! I had so much fun writing this book, and I can’t wait for everyone to read it! And if you enjoy it, you might like to check out the whole Hard Ink series, now complete! Happy reading!

 

Excerpt:

Mia found herself alone with a kinda pissed-off looking Master Kyler. He wore angry well. As in, the harshness of the set of his jaw and the tight press of his lips and the narrow cut of his eyes—they were all hot, especially coming from a Dom. But she didn’t understand it.

“Um. Hello, Sir,” she finally said when he didn’t say anything.

“Mia,” he said, his gaze raking over her. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.” His voice was like gravel, rough and strained.

“Thank you. Are you okay, Sir?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Do you want to sit and talk?” Mia asked, concern for him flooding her.

Suddenly, Kyler pinned her to the cool wall. He braced his hands on either side of her head, and he was erect against her belly. She wanted to drop into a crouch and take him into her mouth. “Do you want vulgar honesty or watered-down politeness?” he asked.

The promise of those words made her core clench with need. “Vulgar honesty.”

He nailed her with a blue-eyed stare. “I don’t want to sit and talk. I want to fuck. Hard. I want to be aggressive. Maybe I even want to be a little mean.”

Mia’s heart was suddenly a runaway train in her chest. Because, sign her up! She let out a shaky breath. “That sounds…like someone’s going to have a good night,” she managed.

Kyler dropped his head to her shoulder on a groan. He knocked his forehead against the bone there once, twice.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” she asked. Because he was totally confusing her.

“That’s the thing, Mia. I don’t know.” He lifted his gaze to hers again.

“How can I help?” she asked.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and when he opened them, it was like he’d centered himself and made some kind of resolution. “Are you game for what I just described?” He fingered the chunky silver-and-gold choker she wore around her neck.

Heat swept over her, her body already answering, already preparing. “Yes, Sir. I am.”

He gave a tight nod and backed up a step. “Let me show you the room I have in mind.” Taking her hand, he led her down the long hallway that shot off the side of the nave. She wasn’t sure if this was still part of the church building or something else, but she didn’t have long to wonder before Kyler stopped at a door and keyed in a code.

Lights came on as the door opened, and Kyler guided her inside with his hand at the small of her back.

Just the room’s theme turned Mia on. Concrete floor. Cinder-block walls with peeling paint. Light thrown from bare light bulbs surrounded by little cages. An iron cot bed with only a white fitted sheet. Rusted metal cabinet at the side that undoubtedly held a variety of toys and supplies. It looked like a basement or a warehouse—a place where a woman in a beautiful cocktail dress had no business being. A role started taking shape in her mind.

“Do you see where my head is tonight, Mia?” Master Kyler asked, his body almost rigid with tension.

God, she was going to enjoy helping him work out whatever had him so wound up. “Yes, Sir.”

 

 

 

 

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About HARD TO SERVE:

To protect and serve is all Detective Kyler Vance ever wanted to do, so when Internal Affairs investigates him as part of the new police commissioner’s bid to oust corruption, everything is on the line. Which makes meeting a smart, gorgeous submissive at an exclusive play club the perfect distraction…

The director of the city’s hottest art gallery, Mia Breslin’s career is golden. Now if only she could find a man to dominate her nights and set her body—and her heart—on fire. When a scorching scene with a hard-bodied, brooding Dom at Blasphemy promises just that, Mia is lured to serve Kyler again and again.

As their relationship burns hotter, Kyler runs into Mia at work and learns that he’s been dominating the daughter of the hard-ass boss who has it in for him. Now Kyler must choose between life-long duty and forbidden desire before Mia finds another who’s not so hard to serve.

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Announcing a New Erotic Romance Series from Laura Kaye…

BLASPHEMY – the club first introduced in Hard to Serve

From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

Bound to Submit is coming September 13, 2016

 

PRE-ORDER BOUND TO SUBMIT

Amazon | Barnes & Noble (Coming Soon) | iBooks  | Kobo 

 

 

Laura Kaye - author picAbout Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

 

 

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Dark Mafia Prince by Annika Martin…Release Day Blitz

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Dark Mafia Prince by New York Times bestselling author, Annika Martin is LIVE!

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Blurb:

Aleksio
Don’t look at me like that. So trusting.
Like you think I’m not a monster.
Like I won’t wrap your hair in my fist and bend you to my will.
Like I won’t sacrifice you, piece by piece, to save my brother.
I’m the most dangerous enemy you’ll ever have because every time you look at me, you see somebody good. That friend who died.
And when you look at me like that, I die again.

Mira
I spent years making myself invisible.
A good girl, apart from the noise.
Then you came back, beautiful and deadly in your Armani suit.
Don’t look at me like you still know me, you say.
But I remember your smile and those sunny days.
Before they lowered your small casket into the ground.
Before they told us the prince was dead.

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Google: http://bit.ly/2962PLk
Kobo: http://annikamartinbooks.com/dark-mafia-prince/
Nook: http://annikamartinbooks.com/dark-mafia-prince/

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About the Author:

Annika Martin is a NYT bestselling author who enjoys writing dirty stories about dangerous criminals! She loves helping animals and kicking snow clumps off the bottom of cars around the streets of Minneapolis, and in her spare time she writes as the RITA award-winning author Carolyn Crane.

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