Release Day Blitz…The Fragile Ordinary by Samantha Young

 

 

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Impossible Vastness of Us and the On Dublin Street series comes a heartfelt and beautiful new young adult novel, set in Scotland, about daring to dream and embracing who you are. THE FRAGILE ORDINARY is now available where all fine books are sold. Order your copy of THE FRAGILE ORDINARY today!

 

 

About THE FRAGILE ORDINARY:

I am Comet Caldwell.

And I sort of, kind of, absolutely hate my name.

People expect extraordinary things from a girl named Comet. That she’ll be effortlessly cool and light up a room the way a comet blazes across the sky.

But from the shyness that makes her book-character friends more appealing than real people to the parents whose indifference hurts more than an open wound, Comet has never wanted to be the center of attention. She can’t wait to graduate from her high school in Edinburgh, Scotland, where the only place she ever feels truly herself is on her anonymous poetry blog. But surely that will change once she leaves to attend university somewhere far, far away.

When new student Tobias King blazes in from America and shakes up the school, Comet thinks she’s got the bad boy figured out. Until they’re thrown together for a class assignment and begin to form an unlikely connection. Everything shifts in Comet’s ordinary world. Tobias has a dark past and runs with a tough crowd—and none of them are happy about his interest in Comet. Targeted by bullies and thrown into the spotlight, Comet and Tobias can go their separate ways…or take a risk on something extraordinary.

 

 

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“Endearing and relatable, Comet-the girl who is searching for her place in this world-will shoot through the sky and into your heart.”

— #1 New York Times bestselling author Erin Watt


 

 

 

EXCERPT:

By the time we got to the house and I let us into my bedroom, I was a jittering wreck. Massive waves of nervous energy were emanating from Tobias, making me worse. He was rarely nervous about anything. Once inside my room, I waited impatiently as Tobias slumped down on my bed, elbows on knees, head in hands.

I shrugged out of my jacket and unwound my scarf. Still waiting.

“Comet,” he huffed, not looking up. “Sit down, okay, you’re making me nervous.”

“You’re making me nervous.” I sat on the armchair across from him. “You and Stevie didn’t kill someone, did you? Did Dean dispose of the body for you and now he’s blackmailing you?”

Tobias’s broad shoulders shook and he lifted his head to stare at me with amusement tinged with sadness. “You’ve got to stop reading so many books.”

“Never.”

He smiled at me, his look so tender that I squirmed with the need to shoot across the room and throw my arms around him. Instead I met his gaze and asked directly, “What happened back there?”

“I just chose you over Stevie,” he said.

I swear my eyebrows must have hit my hairline at this pronouncement. “What?”

“Stevie and some of the guys have been hanging around Dean more and more. Dean is a dealer. And he’s part of something bigger—we’re talking an adult-sized, criminal gang who deal drugs and steal cars for a living. Dean deals cocaine to kids. Blair Lochrie High School is one of his grounds. He sells to quite a few kids there.”

At our high school?

Class A drugs at our high school?

“Bloody hell,” I whispered, “Where have I been?”

“Where I prefer you—safe with your nose stuck in a book.”

“Tobias…Stevie?”

Hearing the worry in my voice, he winced. “I tried, Com. I tried to keep him out of it, but he’s so messed up and I couldn’t stop him. I hung around to make sure he was okay.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” God, please let that be why he was avoiding me.

“Yes.” A million apologies swirled in his gorgeous eyes. “I didn’t mean for Stevie to find out about you, because I didn’t want you anywhere near the stuff he was getting involved in. But then you two got along, so well I thought you might…have feelings for each other, so I told him that he either stopped hanging around Dean or he stopped hanging around you. He agreed keeping you out of that stuff, away from the boys, was better for you. So we stopped coming around as much and then stopped coming around at all. Tonight was his initiation into Dean’s crew. It was supposed to be both our initiations, I guess, because Dean was sending Stevie to some other party with drugs, and I was following Stevie as backup. Now I’m not.”

There was so much to process in what he’d just said.

My brain blurted out the first thing it wanted to deal with. “Stevie and I don’t have feelings for each other. I don’t like Stevie, Tobias.”

His eyes widened as my tone implied that I liked someone else. “No?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I just left him to that hell.” He stood up and started pacing back and forth. “I tried to help him even if it meant hurting you, and he just let himself get pulled further down into that crap.”

I stood up, reached out to touch him, to slow him down. He stilled, looking at my hand on his arm. “What did you mean? You chose me over Stevie?”

“Comet, Dean made it clear that if I left with you, I couldn’t go around there or anywhere near him again. So I either had to stay and go with Stevie as his backup on a drug deal and leave you to handle Dean on your own, or I could walk out of there with you and leave Stevie to do it alone. For good.” His gaze moved over my face, as if he were committing each feature to memory.

My heart started thudding so hard the blood rushed through my ears. “So you chose me.”

“Of course,” he choked out. “I’d never let anything happen to you. And seeing you there…I never want to see that crap touch you again. It was a wake-up call for me. I don’t want to be a part of that shit either. That’s not me.”

Seeing something in his expression made me brave in a way I never thought I could be. Knees trembling, I stepped up to him and placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. His chest was strong and hard beneath my hand, his body heat surrounding me and that woodsy, spicy, citrusy scent he wore teasing my senses. I wanted to sway into him, hold him tight, and never let go, but I had something important to say first now that I had his absolute attention. “Being a good student, working for something, achieving something, playing hard at football…it wasn’t all for your dad, Tobias. There is no maybe about it. Deep down you want those things for yourself, too. You’re smart and good and such a special person.” I gave him a tremulous smile, wondering if how I felt for him was as obvious to him as it was to apparently everyone else. “You deserve the life you really want.”

His chest rose and fell faster beneath my hand as we stared into one another’s eyes. Tobias licked his lips, as if he was nervous. “What if I want to get my grades back up?”

“Then I’ll help.”

“And join the rugby team?”

“Then you’ll try out.”

He nodded and slowly lifted his hand to cover mine. He took a step closer to me, his breathing sounding a little shaky. The thud of his heart racing beneath my palm made mine accelerate. My legs shook and my fingers curled into Tobias’s shirt. “And…what if what I really want…is you?”

Joy flooded me. I can’t truly describe the feeling. The euphoria. The excitement and thrill and fear and worry that cascaded through me at the thought of being with Tobias King.

No matter the plethora of emotions that came with his question, my answer was instant and absolute. “Then you have me.”

 

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About Samantha Young:

Samantha Young is the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of adult contemporary romances, including the On Dublin Street series and Hero, as well as the New Adult duology Into the Deep and Out of the Shallows. Every Little Thing, the second book in her new Hart’s Boardwalk series, will be published by Berkley in March 2017. Before turning to contemporary fiction, she wrote several young adult paranormal and fantasy series, including the amazon bestselling Tale of Lunarmorte trilogy. Samantha’s debut YA contemporary novel The Impossible Vastness of Us will be published by Harlequin TEEN in ebook & hardback June 2017

Samantha has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award 2012 for Best Author and Best Romance for On Dublin Street, Best Romance 2014 for Before Jamaica Lane, and Best Romance 2015 for Hero. On Dublin Street, a #1 bestseller in Germany, was the Bronze Award Winner in the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2013, Before Jamaica Lane the Gold Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2014 and Echoes of Scotland Street the Bronze Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2015.

Samantha is currently published in 30 countries and is a #1 international bestselling author.

 

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Release Day Blitz….Blood Match by K.A. Linde

 

 

As the provocative, sensual Blood Type series continues, the rare bond between Reyna and Beckham is threatened by betrayal, greed, and twisted secrets.

A desperate human. A powerful vampire. A world divided.

Reyna Carpenter was promised paradise. She was delivered into hell.

Giving up her body for money was supposed to be the hardest part of becoming a blood escort. She never expected to lose her heart to her dark, enigmatic boss, Beckham Anderson. After being taken by a depraved captor who plans to rule the world, Reyna will do anything to return to Beckham.

She just has to find the will to survive this game.

From the pawn, rises a queen.

Note: Reyna and Beckham’s story begins in Blood Type and continues in Blood Cure.

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A startling new vision of paranormal romance: When a human ventures into the world of vampires—a decadent milieu of blood-bonds and betrayal—she discovers that not all is what it seems.

For Reyna Carpenter, giving up her body isn’t a choice. It’s survival.

In a civilization laid waste by poverty and desperation, Reyna accepts a high-paying position with the wealthy and hungry vampire elite. Her new job is as the live-in blood escort for the intimidating, demanding, and devilishly handsome Beckham Anderson. He’s everything she expected from a vampire, except for one thing—he won’t feed off her.

Reyna soon discovers that behind Beckham’s brooding, wicked façade lies a unique and complex man. And that, in a dark and divided world, she is more valuable than she ever would have believed.

For with each passing night, Reyna can’t shake the sensation that it’s Beckham who’s afraid of her.

Note: Reyna and Beckham’s story continues in Blood Match.

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The stunning conclusion to the Blood Type series finds the world in chaos and turmoil with one final battle left to determine who will survive—humans or vampires.

She had the world on her shoulders. Now she has nothing.

Reyna Carpenter was twenty-one when she became a live-in blood escort for the ruthless and darkly handsome vampire Beckham Anderson. She thought this was just a small price to pay for feeding her brothers back home.

But nothing went as planned. Not even her tumultuous relationship with Beckham. And now she wonders if anything will ever be the same again.

As she finds herself in the midst of a losing rebellion, she and her trusted friends must flee from a city conquered by the vampire elite. With their plans blown to pieces and everything they knew and loved gone, their future hangs in the balance.

Despite all she has lost, Reyna must rise from the ashes, reclaim the life that was stolen—and complete her mission, once and for all.

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KylaK.A. Linde is the USA Today bestselling author of more than fifteen novels including the Avoiding series and the Record series. She has a Masters degree in political science from the University of Georgia, was the head campaign worker for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and served as the head coach of the Duke University dance team. She loves reading fantasy novels, geeking out over Star Wars, binge-watching Supernatural, and dancing in her spare time.

She currently lives in Lubbock, Texas, with her husband and two super adorable puppies.

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The Darkest Warrior by Gena Showalter….Release Day Event

 

The Queen of Paranormal Romance, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Gena Showalter, returns with THE DARKEST WARRIOR, a searing Lords of the Underworld tale featuring a beastly prince and the wife he will wage war to keep. THE DARKEST WARRIOR is now available where all fine books are sold. Grab your copy today!

 

THE DARKEST WARRIOR Synopsis:

He is ice…

Puck the Undefeated, host of the demon of Indifference, cannot experience emotion without punishment, so he allows himself to feel nothing. Until her. According to ancient prophecy, she is the key to avenging his past, saving his realm and ruling as king. All he must do? Steal her from the man she loves—and marry her.

She is fire…

Gillian Shaw has suffered many tragedies in her too-short life, but nothing could have prepared the fragile human for her transition into immortality. To survive, she must wed a horned monster who both intrigues and frightens her…and become the warrior queen she was born to be.

Together they burn.

As a rising sense of possession and obsession overtake Puck, so does insatiable lust. The more he learns about his clever, resourceful wife, the more he craves her. And the more time Gillian spends with her protective husband, the more she aches for him. But the prophecy also predicts an unhappily-ever-after. Can Puck defeat fate itself to keep the woman who brought his deadened heart back to life? Or will they succumb to destiny, losing each other…and everything they’ve been fighting for?

 

 

Grab your copy of THE DARKEST WARRIOR here!

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EXCERPT:

So. This is the girl William will live or die for.

Puck crouched on the railing of an eighteenth-story balcony, gargoyle-style, and peered into a spacious apartment with only two occupants. William of the Dark and Gillian Shaw.

Soon she would be Gillian Connacht.

Find William. Wed his girl. War with brother.

Now that Puck had found the warrior, his tasks shifted: wed the girl, cart her to Amaranthia, return for the male. Wed. Cart. Return.

Perhaps he should stop staring at the female first? Impossible.

 

While the demon of Indifference growled with displeasure, Puck drank in Gillian’s dark fall of silken waves and eyes the color of whiskey. Seductive eyes filled with kindling. One day, a male would light her match, and she would burn for him, and him alone.

Flawless golden skin and blood-red lips only added to her appeal, making her the embodiment of a fairy-tale princess.

My princess.

Puck bit his tongue—he should have tasted blood, but because of Indifference, he tasted nothing. There was no denying the truth. Being near the female he planned to wed came with an unexpected complication. Indifferent? Hardly. She roused his most possessive instincts.

Soon she would belong to him. She would be his first and only “mine,” without actually being his.

Must police my thoughts about her, or I’ll ruin everything.

He felt as if he’d been watching Gillian for days, even weeks, as if he knew her, and yet he marveled over every new detail he learned. She was shockingly human, with a gentle spirit and an aura of kindness. Her beguiling smile was infectious, the rare times she revealed it.

Mostly she studied the people and world around her, somehow both present and detached, all while radiating bone-deep sadness.

Too many centuries had passed since Puck had experienced such heartfelt emotion. Before his possession, he might have sympathized with her—whatever her troubles happened to be—and sought to make things better. Now? He would use her without hesitation. He must.

War before a woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere,” William said, and kissed her cheek.

Puck scrutinized his competition for the female’s affections: six-five, solidly built, black hair, blue eyes, handsome if you liked perfection, and soon to be sporting a broken nose if he kissed Puck’s future bride again.

Inner slap. To achieve his goals, Puck needed both Gillian and William to cooperate.

“Hades requires my expertise to obliterate Lucifer’s newest palace,” William continued.

Lucifer. The male’s older brother.

Gillian scowled. Soon she would smile. Around William, her moods tended to change lightning fast, as if she wanted to feel one way, but he made her feel another.

“No, you’re staying here.” Her voice, even laced with a thread of anger, had the power to seduce.

No wonder William had fallen hard for her, and no other.

Puck had actually found the male hundreds of years ago, not long after the Oracles spoke their prophecy. Back then, William had loved no one but himself, forcing Puck to turn his efforts to obtaining the shears of Ananke.

She was the goddess of Bonds, and rumors claimed her shears could sever any spiritual, emotional or physical tie without con- sequence. Of course, rumors also claimed the artifact severed more than the user bargained for.

What was truth? What was lie?

At first, Puck had contemplated using the shears to sever his bond with the demon. The creature had become a part of him, another heartbeat he needed to survive. Ditching him without penalty…could anything be better?

Why else would the Oracles instruct him to find the shears?

But, if using the shears on Indifference had been the answer to Puck’s dilemma, why instruct him to marry Gillian, and recruit William?

What if the shears severed Puck’s connection to Indifference, but also his emotions? He would be in worse shape than before. What if he used the shears and died? The artifact might consider death a blessing rather than a consequence.

Too many risks.

In the end, Puck had opted to stick with his original plan, and work with William.

Help me defeat my brother. In return, I’ll divorce your female and give her back to you.

Puck returned his gaze to the dark-haired Gillian. She had such lush breasts. A flat stomach, and rounded hips. Long legs meant to wrap around a man’s waist—my waist.

His heart beat with renewed determination, as if the organ had come back to life, even though it had never died. As if it said, I’ve been waiting for her.

 

 

About Gena Showalter:

Gena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of the spellbinding Lords of the Underworld and Angels of the Dark series, two young adult series–Everlife and the White Rabbit Chronicles–and the highly addictive Original Heartbreakers series. In addition to being a National Reader’s Choice and two time RITA nominee, her romance novels have appeared in Cosmopolitan (Red Hot Read) and Seventeen magazine, she’s appeared on Nightline and been mentioned in Orange is the New Black–if you ask her about it, she’ll talk for hours…hours! Her books have been translated in multiple languages.

She’s hard at work on her next novel, a tale featuring an alpha male with a dark side and the strong woman who brings him to his knees. You can learn more about Gena, her menagerie of rescue dogs, and all her upcoming books at genashowalter.com or Facebook.com/genashowalterfans

 

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Moonlight Seduction by Jennifer L. Armentrout…Release Day Event

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Moonlight Seduction: A de Vincent Novel, from New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout is LIVE!

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The de Vincent brothers are back—and so is the intrigue that surrounds them—in New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout’s sizzling new novel . . .

Nicolette Bresson never thought she’d return to the de Vincents’ bayou compound. It’s where her parents work, where Nikki grew up . . . and where she got her heart broken by Gabriel de Vincent himself. Yet here she is, filling in for her sick mother. Avoiding Gabe should be easy, especially when so much of Nikki’s time is spent trying not to be stabbed in the back by the malicious hangers-on who frequent the mansion. But escaping memories of Gabe, much less his smoking-hot presence, is harder than expected—especially since he seems determined to be in Nikki’s space as much as possible.

Gabriel spent years beating himself up over his last encounter with Nikki. He’d wanted her then, but for reasons that were bad for both of them. Things have now changed. Gabe sees more than a girl he’s known forever; he sees a smart, talented, and heartbreakingly beautiful woman . . . one who’s being stalked from the shadows.

Now, Gabe will do anything to keep Nikki safe—and to stop the de Vincent curse from striking again.

Watch the Trailer:

https://video214.com/play/68tr6CJfhPy1JH2zkvX2HQ/s/dark
Trailer by: Jillian Stein

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Available Now!
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Moonlight Sins (de Vincent series, book 1)
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Audible: http://amzn.to/2DJB1JZ

 

 

About Jennifer L. Armentrout

JLA- Credit Franggy Yanez Photography

# 1 New York Times and # 1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Charles Town, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about h

er state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki. In early 2015, Jennifer was diagnosed with retini

tis pigmentosa, a group of rare genetic disorders that involve a breakdown and death of cells in the retina, eventually resulting

in loss of vision, among other complications. Due to this diagnosis, educating people on the varying degrees of blindness has become a passion of hers, right alongside writing, which she plans to do as long as she can.

Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in

math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Tor, HarperCollins Avon and William Morrow, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her Wicked Series has been optioned by PassionFlix. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. Her adult romantic suspense novel TILL DEATH was an Amazon Editor’s Pick and iBook Book of the Month. Her young adult contemporary THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER is a 2017 RITA Award Winner in Young Adult Fiction. She also writes Adult

and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

She is the owner of ApollyCon and The Origin Event, the successful annual events that feature over hundred bestselling authors in Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult Fiction, panels, parties, and more. She is also the creator and sole financier of the annual Write Your Way To RT Book Convention, a contest that gives aspiring authors a chance to win a fully paid trip to RT Book Reviews.

Connect with Jennifer L. Armentrout:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JenniferLArmentrout
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JLArmentrout
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jennifer_l_armentrout/
GoodReads: http://bit.ly/1DiIjR

Stay up to date with Jennifer by joining her mailing list today: https://bit.ly/2qBce5m

https://jenniferlarmentrout.com

Inked Nights by Carrie Ann Ryan… Release Day Event

INKED NIGHTS by Carrie Ann Ryan is available today! Get your hands on this sexy new Montgomery Ink story now!

 

About INKED NIGHTS

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Carrie Ann Ryan comes a new story in her Montgomery Ink series…

Tattoo artist, Derek Hawkins knows the rules:
One night a month.
No last names.
No promises.

Olivia Madison has her own rules:
Don’t fall in love.
No commitment.
Never tell Derek the truth.

When their worlds crash into each other however, Derek and Olivia will have to face what they fought to ignore as well as the connection they tried to forget.

**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

 

Get your hands on INKED NIGHTS now! http://amzn.to/2y3i8hu

 

See the INKED NIGHTS trailer:

 

 

Read an excerpt from INKED NIGHTS

So I was at the bar, and a man in dark jeans, a blue Henley, and a sexy beard comes up to me, taking the last seat at the bar. He was broad-shouldered, sexy as hell, and had a deep voice that went straight to the right places.”

Alice gave a smoky laugh, and Olivia realized exactly how detailed she’d been just then. Apparently, Derek brought that out in her even when he wasn’t near.

“We didn’t speak for a few moments until he finally turned and smiled.” She paused, remembering even as her heart ached. She loved that smile. Loved him if she were being honest. And she could never see him again. “I don’t remember exactly what we said that first time. But we talked for over an hour and had more than a few drinks. He said he was visiting, though I didn’t ask from where.” She figured now that he’d most likely been at the hotel traveling for his job, but she really didn’t know. She hadn’t asked and was afraid she never would. Though now that she thought about it, there had been a tattoo convention near, so maybe he’d been staying for that and not just the shop?

“Somehow, we ended up in his hotel room.”

“Damn, girl.”

“I know. It was so unlike me. It’s still so unlike me. And when we were through with each other, he said he wanted to see me again but couldn’t until he came back to town. So we promised to meet again the next month. Same time. Same place. We made our promises to ourselves, no names, just sex, just time. And we kept with it for four years without missing a month. I can’t believe we made it last as long as we did without finding out more about each other, but we did. And now…and now it’s crazy.”

“You called him Derek. So you must know his name now.”

“He asked me to call him by his name this last time.” She paused. “And that’s how I realized I knew him.”

Alice paused. “You know him? Of course you do. You’ve been sleeping with him for four years. I’m not judging. You know I wouldn’t because what you’re doing is damn hot and I know you’re being careful because you wouldn’t be Olivia if you weren’t, so there must be something to it.”

“I know him from when I was younger. Much younger. I didn’t realize it was him because of the beard and, honestly, I never thought I’d see the Derek I knew again. He doesn’t recognize me, though. I don’t know why he would. It’s been so long.”

“And that means you can’t see him again? Because, from the way you’re sounding, I have a feeling you want to run away from him and what you could have.”

Alice knew her far too well. “There are things…there are things I need to tell him before I tell anyone else. Reasons why I never should have been with him. Why I can’t be with him again. I’ll tell him. I have to. But I just don’t know how.”

Then she told Alice about the fact that Derek knew her neighbor and how he’d come over and that everything seemed to be falling apart around her. She was her own undoing, and she had to figure out the next step.

 

 

About Carrie Ann Ryan

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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The Upside of Falling (The Blue Line Duet) by Meghan Quinn…Blog Tour & Review

 

 

 

Tucked away at the base of the Rocky Mountains lived a little boy with one singular dream: leave this broken and battered home and become someone.

Be somebody’s hero.

That boy was me—Colby Brooks. Except I’m not that same little boy anymore.

My dreams might still be the same, but my reality isn’t.

I’m smarter. Stronger. A man.

And I learned a long damn time ago, the only way to achieve my dreams was to avoid distractions—at any cost.

Focus. Resolve. Determination.

But all it took was one single night. One night and my entire life…changed.

One night had me colliding head first with the biggest distraction of my life; Rory Oaks.

Smart. Charming. Beautiful.

Rory changed everything.

Quickly, my one-track mind started to bend.

Each kiss faded decade-long dreams.

And with one single incident, I fly off course.

 

 

 

 

Head turned down, pushing the sleeves of his white Henley up his arms, he swaggers toward me. His jeans hang low on his hips, held up by the same brown belt he wore the other night. His narrow waist directs my eyes to the center of his jeans, and I can’t help wonder what might be behind the crotch of his pants.

And then there is his chest. Barrel like, broad and prominent. His thick biceps showcase his strength, and the fabric of his shirt stretches over his shoulders and forearms. Having spent a lot of time at the gym, I’ve seen every body type, but Colby’s is different. He’s strong, built, but not like a body builder. His body seems to suggest the only kind of weight he’s been lifting is his own body, pushup after pushup. I can’t imagine there being barbells in his workouts, but I can imagine logs, cadets, and heavy machinery. He has working muscles, the kind you earn from hard, dedicated work on the field. In a word? Impressive.

Walking up to Stryder, he grips his friend’s shoulder and says something into his ear. A smirk crosses Stryder’s face before he moves over to our side of the bowling alley and takes Colby’s place.

Is he leaving? Already?

Might as well at this point. It’s not like he’s going to talk to me, not after my pathetic attempt at a bet. I should have known I was going to hang out in the gutter all night. It’s where I usually am when I’m bowling. I blame the ball. The thing has a vendetta against me.

Sighing, I prop my chin in my hand and watch Stryder expertly toss his ball down the lane, getting a strike . . . once again. And just like every other strike, he pumps his arm up in the air and celebrates. We get it, you’re good, no need to—

“Hey.”

That voice . . .

Stunned, eyes wide, not able to move, not wanting to scare him away, I keep my eyes trained forward, soaking in that beautifully deep voice of his for a brief moment before saying, “Hey.”

“Can I sit here?”

Still keeping my eyes trained forward, I say, “Sure.”

My body tingles with awareness of how close he is to me, that fresh laundry scent invading my senses, prickling the little hairs on my arm. My body leans toward his, wanting a little more, searching for anything else he might give me. I don’t know why he’s choosing to engage me in conversation, but I’m sure as hell not moving while he does.

“Sorry about tonight,” he says and he actually sounds sincere.

“Why are you sorry?” I mumble.

Reaching around, he takes my cheek in his hand. The callouses on his palm rubbing against my skin is a welcome sensation. As I’m turned toward him, I steady my breathing. I’m having a hard time slowing my heart rate because of his close proximity, and the unexpected touch shooting a wave of heat through my veins.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to ask me any questions. I didn’t think you were going to suck that bad.” A playful smile tugs at his lips, and my heart sinks to the floor. Oh God, he’s so gorgeous, especially when he smiles.

Matching his smirk, I say, “I didn’t think I was going to suck that bad either.”

“I feel bad.”

“You should.” That garners a laugh, deep and throaty, the sound cloaking me like a shield, protecting me from the outside world, bringing me into a little bubble where we are the only two that exist.

“Ask me a question.”

Shocked, I swallow hard and say, “Really?”

He nods and holds up his fingers. “You get three.”

“Oh, three? Wow, I feel like you just gave me the key to your soul.”

Rolling his eyes, he adjusts his stance on the barstool and leans back, giving us some space, our knees still knocking into each other. “Easy killer; it’s just three questions.”

“Yeah, three questions I didn’t have before.” Tapping my chin, I try to think of good questions, but now that I have him willing and waiting, nothing comes to mind. I wasn’t prepared for this, he caught me off-guard, and now I feel I can’t be strategic about my probing. “Hmm . . . what do you like to do on the weekends?”

“Jump,” he answers.

Searching his eyes, lips quirked, I say, “Uh, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. What kind of jumping are we talking here? Like jump roping? Because that seems kind of weird to do on the weekends, and if you tell me you’re in some kind of jump-roping club at the academy, I’m not going to believe you.”

His lips curve up as he scratches the side of his jaw. “Jump out of airplanes.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s . . .

Uh, that’s really hot.

“So you just casually jump out of airplanes?”

“I’m part of the Wings of Blue, the academy’s parachute team. We jump every day, at least two to three times a day after class and before dinner, depending on wind and ceiling limits. On the weekends, some of the guys, including Stryder and me, go to Springs East Airport and do civilian jumps. The more jumps we get in, the higher the chance we’ll be considered for big demonstrations, like parachuting into football games and major sporting events for the Rockies and Broncos.” Ummmm. Did anyone else just hear how many words he gifted me? And seriously? Does the man have no clue how incredibly sexy he is when he talks about something he loves? The expression on his face . . .

“Wow, that’s . . . that’s really hot.” I chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t mean to fangirl over your parachuting, but I guess I wasn’t expecting that answer. You just jump out of planes?”

He slowly nods. “Every day.”

“Anything to get you up in the clouds, huh?”

“Yeah,” he answers shyly, rubbing his jaw. “Okay, next question.”

 

 

 

 

If I could, I would give this book 5+++++++ stars.

Meghan Quinn quickly became one of my go-to authors after I read her Bourbon (original) series and fell in love with her writing style. I have read every book by her since then and she has never let me down once.

The Upside of Falling proves why Meghan is one author who’s books I will forever read, no matter the genre. If you are first-time newbie of reading anything by Meghan, let it be this duet. She will forever become one your favorite authors.

Now onto the book! The Upside of Falling is just that; Meghan gives us the story of a sweet and endearing couple who fall in love with each other so beautifully. I have goosebumps and tears in my eyes as I am writing this just thinking back on this book and what I read.

It is so heartfelt and loving and makes you fall in love with their story. I won’t give you any details because it is best to read this story and feel the emotions as you read without having any preconceived notions on what is going to happen.

While I did have a feeling certain things were going to happen, it was the way Meghan told this story and how things came to be that made this story perfect. I don’t care that I was right, what I loved was the journey.

Meghan delivers a beautiful story that you know will deliver everything you want and more. I am forever grateful that we don’t have to wait long for the conclusion to this story. I am not sure that my heart could wait any longer to see where this story goes and how it all ends.

Bravo Meghan – you have done it again. <3

 

 

 

 

THE DOWNSIDE OF LOVE – July 5th

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub

 

 

Almost Impossible by Nicole Williams….Blog Tour & Review

 

 

 

 

 

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Fans of Sarah Dessen, Stephanie Perkins, and Jenny Han will delight as the fireworks spark and the secrets fly in this delicious summer romance from a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author.

When Jade decided to spend the summer with her aunt in California, she thought she knew what she was getting into. But nothing could have prepared her for Quentin. Jade hasn’t been in suburbia long and even she knows her annoying (and annoyingly cute) next-door neighbor spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

And when Quentin learns Jade plans to spend her first American summer hiding out reading books, he refuses to be ignored. Sneaking out, staying up, and even a midnight swim, Quentin is determined to give Jade days–and nights–worth remembering.

But despite their storybook-perfect romance, every time Jade moves closer, Quentin pulls away. And when rumors of a jilted ex-girlfriend come to light, Jade knows Quentin is hiding a secret–and she’s determined to find out what it is.

 

Let me start off by first saying that in my personal opinion, a 3 star book is a good book and one that I would recommend to people. I find that people cringe when they see 3 star and think the book isn’t that great. It’s not that, it’s more along the lines of the book was a good read, but not one that will stick with me forever.

Almost Impossible is a sweet and easy read for just about anyone. There isn’t any over the top drama and nothing too hot and heavy for a YA read.

Jade was my favorite part of this book. She has grown up in a world most of us would find fascinating and amazing. She is bit more mature than most at her age, but at the same time, she is slightly naïve on certain things because of her upbringing. You’d think she’d be more of a rebellious kid or something along those lines, but she appreciates everything she’s been given and has a great head on her shoulders.

Quentin was an interesting character to me. He’s got younger siblings at home that he helps take care of and also works full time during the summer. From everything we learn about him, he seems like a pretty decent kid who keeps to himself and doesn’t get into too much trouble.

I enjoyed the buildup between Jade and Quentin – it was the typical summer romance between two teens – nothing is too fast and flows well between them. They take jabs at one another and even try to move things in a certain direction, even while life tries to stop it.

While I did enjoy reading this one, it’s a not a story that left me reeling, and that is ok. Not all books need to leave with me that feeling way. This was a very light and sweet story overall. However, based on the blurb I was expecting more of bad boy with Quentin than we got and I was expecting a more dramatic story line where the ex-girlfriend came into play.

Even though I had expected more, with this being a YA read, it is a fine line for an author to give a story that edge of naughty teenage boy and a secret about his past and still make it relatable to the YA reader. With that being said, I personally feel that Nicole did her best in portraying Jade, Quentin and his ex-girlfriend without making it too heavy of a story for characters that were heading into their senior year of high school.

Overall, Almost Impossible is definitely a story I would think any teenager would enjoy along with fellow YA lovers who are looking for a non-angsty and dramatic story. This one hit right down the middle for me, which in my opinion, makes is a good read.

 

 

Anything was possible. At least that’s what it felt like.
Summer seventeen was going to be one for the record books. I already knew it. I could feel it—from the nervous-excited swirl in my stomach to the buzz in the air around me. This was going to be the summer—my summer.
“Last chance to cry uncle or forever hold your peace,” Mom sang beside me in the backseat of the cab we’d caught at the airport. Her hand managed to tighten around mine even more, cutting off the last bit of my circulation. If there
was any left.
I tried to look the precise amount of unsure before answering. “So long, last chance,” I said, waving out the window.
Mom sighed, squeezing my hand harder still. It was starting to go numb now. Summer seventeen might find me one hand short if Mom didn’t ease up on the death grip.
She and her band, the Shrinking Violets, were going to be touring internationally after finally hitting it big, but she was moping because this was the first summer we wouldn’t be together. Actually, it would be the first time we’d been apart ever.
I’d sold her on the idea of me staying in the States with her sister and family by going on about how badly I wanted to experience one summer as a normal, everyday American teenager before graduating from high school. One chance to
see what it was like to stay in the same place, with the same people, before I left for college. One last chance to see what life as an American teen was really like.
She bought it . . . eventually.
She’d have her bandmates and tens of thousands of adoring fans to keep her company—she could do without me for a couple of months. I hoped.
It had always been just Mom and me from day one. She had me when she was young—like young young—and even though her boyfriend pretty much bailed before the line turned pink, she’d done just fine on her own.
We’d both kind of grown up together, and I knew she’d missed out on a lot by raising me. I wanted this to be a summer for the record books for her, too. One she could really live up, not having to worry about taking care of her teenage
daughter. Plus, I wanted to give her a chance to experience what life without me would be like. Soon I’d be off to college somewhere, and I figured easing her into the empty-nester phase was a better approach than going cold turkey.
“You packed sunscreen, right?” Mom’s bracelets jingled as she leaned to look out her window, staring at the bright blue sky like it was suspect.
“SPF seventy for hot days, fifty for warm days, and thirty for overcast ones.” I toed the trusty duffel resting at my feet.It had traveled the globe with me for the past decade and had the wear to prove it.
“That’s my fair-skinned girl.” When Mom looked over at me, the crease between her eyebrows carved deeper with worry.
“You might want to check into SPF yourself. You’re not going to be in your mid thirties forever, you know?”
Mom groaned. “Don’t remind me. But I’m already beyond SPF’s help at this point. Unless it can help fix a saggy butt and crow’s-feet.” She pinched invisible wrinkles and wiggled her butt against the seat.
It was my turn to groan. It was annoying enough that people mistook us for sisters all the time, but it was worse that she could (and did) wear the same jeans as me. There should be some rule that moms aren’t allowed to takes clothes from the closets of their teenage daughters.
When the cab turned down Providence Avenue, I felt a sudden streak of panic. Not for myself, but for my mom.
Could she survive a summer when I wasn’t at her side, reminding her when the cell phone bill was due or updating her calendar so she knew where to be and when to be there? Would she be okay without me reminding her that fruits and vegetables were part of the food pyramid for a reason and
making sure everything was all set backstage?
“Hey.” Mom gave me a look, her eyes suggesting she could read my thoughts. “I’ll be okay. I’m a strong, empowered thirty-four-year-old woman.”
“Cell phone charger.” I yanked the one dangling from her oversized, metal-studded purse, which I’d wrapped in hot pink tape so it stood out. “I’ve packed you two extras to get you through the summer. When you get down to your last
one, make sure to pick up two more so you’re covered—”
“Jade, please,” she interrupted. “I’ve only lost a few. It’s not like I’ve misplaced . . .”
“Thirty-two phone chargers in the past five years?” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “I’ve got the receipts to prove it, too.”
Her mouth clamped closed as the cab rolled up to my aunt’s house.
“What am I going to do without you?” Mom swallowed, dropping her big black retro sunglasses over her eyes to hide the tears starting to form, to my surprise.
I was better at keeping my emotions hidden, so I didn’t dig around in my purse for sunglasses. “Um, I don’t know? Maybe rock a sold-out international tour? Six continents in three months? Fifty concerts in ninety days? That kind of
thing?”
Mom started to smile. She loved music—writing it, listening to it, playing it—and was a true musician. She hadn’t gotten into it to become famous or make the Top 40 or anything like that; she’d done it because it was who she was. She was the same person playing to a dozen people in a crowded café as she was now, the lead singer of one of the biggest bands in the world playing to an arena of thousands.
“Sounds pretty killer. All of those countries. All of that adventure.” Mom’s hand was on the door handle, but it looked more like she was trying to keep the taxi door closed than to open it. “Sure you don’t want to be a part of it?”
I smiled thinly back at my mom, her wild brown hair spilling over giant glasses. She had this boundless sense of adventure—always had and always would—so it was hard for her to comprehend how her own offspring could feel any different.
“Promise to call me every day and send me pictures?” I said, feeling the driver lingering outside my door with luggage in hand. This was it. Mom exhaled, lifting her pinkie toward me. “Promise.”
I curled my pinkie around hers and forced a smile. “Love
you, Mom.”
Her finger wound around mine as tightly as she had clenched my other hand on the ride here. “Love you no matter what.” Then she shoved her door open and crawled out, but not before I noticed one tiny tear escape her sunglasses.
By the time I’d stepped out of the cab, all signs of that tear or any others were gone. Mom did tears as often as she wrote moving love songs. In other words, never.
As she dug around in her purse for her wallet to pay the driver, I took a minute to inspect the house in front of me.
The last time we’d been here was for Thanksgiving three years ago. Or was it four? I couldn’t remember, but it was long enough to have forgotten how bright white my aunt and uncle’s house was, how the windows glowed from being so
clean and the landscaping looked almost fake it was so well kept.
It was pretty much the total opposite of the tour buses and extended-stay hotels I’d spent most of my life in. My mother, Meg Abbott, did not do tidy.
“Back zipper pocket,” I said as she struggled to find the money in her wallet.
“Aha,” she announced, freeing a few bills to hand to the driver, whose patience was wilting. After taking her luggage, she shouldered up beside me.
“So the neat-freak thing gets worse with time.” Mom gaped at the walkway leading up to the cobalt-blue front door, where a Davenport nameplate sparkled in the sunlight.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say most of the surfaces I’d eaten off of weren’t as clean as the stretch of concrete in front of me.
“Mom . . . ,” I warned, when she shuddered after she roamed to inspect the window boxes bursting with scarlet geraniums.
“I’m not being mean,” she replied as we started down the walkway. “I’m appreciating my sister’s and my differences.
That’s all.”
Right then, the front door whisked open and my aunt seemed to float from it, a measured smile in place, not a single hair out of place.
“Appreciating our differences,” Mom muttered under her breath as we moved closer.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the two sisters embraced.
Mom had long dark hair and fell just under the average-height bar like me. Aunt Julie, conversely, had light hair she kept swishing above her shoulders, and she was tall and thin. Her eyes were almost as light blue as mine, compared to Mom’s, which were almost as dark as her hair. It wasn’t only their physical differences that set them apart; it was everything. From the way they dressed Mom in some shade of dark, whereas the darkest color I’d ever seen Aunt Julie wear was periwinkle—to their taste in food, Mom was on the spicy end of the spectrum and Aunt Julie was on the mild.
Mom stared at Aunt Julie.
Aunt Julie stared back at Mom.
This went on for twenty-one seconds. I counted. The last stare-down four years ago had gone forty-nine. So this was progress.
Finally, Aunt Julie folded her hands together, her rounded nails shining from a fresh manicure. “Hello, Jade. Hello, Megan.”
Mom’s back went ramrod straight when Aunt Julie referred to her by her given name. Aunt Julie was eight years older but acted more like her mother than her sister.
“How’s it hangin’, Jules?”
Aunt Julie’s lips pursed hearing her little sister’s nickname for her. Then she stepped back and motioned inside. “Well?”
That was my cue to pick up my luggage and follow after Mom, who was tromping up the front steps. “Are we done already? Really?” she asked, nudging Aunt Julie as she passed.
“I’m taking the higher road,” Aunt Julie replied.
“What you call taking the higher road I call getting soft in your old age.” Mom hustled through the door after that, like she was afraid Aunt Julie would kick her butt or something.
The image of Aunt Julie kicking anything made me giggle to myself.
“Jade.” Aunt Julie’s smile was of the real variety this time as she took my duffel from me. “You were a girl the last time we saw you, and look at you now. All grown up.”
“Hey, Aunt Julie. Thanks again for letting me spend the summer with you guys,” I said, pausing beside her, not sure whether to hug her or keep moving. A moment of awkwardness passed before she made the decision for me by reaching out and patting my back. I continued on after that.
Aunt Julie wasn’t cold or removed; she just showed her affection differently. But I knew she cared about me and my mom. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t pick up the phone on the first ring whenever we did call every few months. She also wouldn’t have immediately said yes when Mom asked her a few months ago if I could spend the summer here.
“Let me show you to your room.” She pulled the door shut behind her and led us through the living room. “Paul and I had the guest room redone to make it more fitting for a teenage girl.”
“Instead of an eighty-year-old nun who had a thing for quilts and angel figurines?” Mom said, biting at her chipped black nail polish.
“I wouldn’t expect someone whose idea of a feng shui living space is kicking the dirty clothes under their bed to appreciate my sense of style,” Aunt Julie fired back, like she’d been anticipating Mom’s dig.
I cut in before they could get into it. “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt Julie. The guest room exactly the way it was would have been great.”
“Speaking of the saint also known as my brother-in-law, where is Paul?” Mom spun around, moving down the hall backward.
“At work.” Aunt Julie stopped outside of a room. “He wanted to be here, but his job’s been crazy lately.”
Aunt Julie snatched the porcelain angel Mom had picked up from the hall table. She carefully returned it to the exact same spot, adjusting it a hair after a moment’s consideration.
“Where are the twins?” I asked, scanning the hallway for Hannah and Hailey. The last time I’d seen them, they were in preschool but acted like they were in grad school or something. They were nice kids, just kind of freakishly well
behaved and brainy.
“At Chinese camp,” Aunt Julie answered.
“Getting to eat dim sum and make paper dragons?” Mom asked, sounding almost surprised.
Aunt Julie sighed. “Learning the Chinese language.” Aunt Julie opened a door and motioned me inside. I’d barely set one foot into the room before my eyes almost crossed from what I found.
Holy pink.
Hot pink, light pink, glittery pink, Pepto-Bismol pink—every shade, texture, and variety of pink seemed to be represented inside this square of space.
“What do you think?” Aunt Julie gushed, moving up
beside me with a giant smile.
“I love it,” I said, working up a smile. “It’s great. So great.
And so . . . pink.”
“I know, right?” Aunt Julie practically squealed. I didn’t know she was capable of anything close to that high-pitched.
“We hired a designer and everything. I told her you were a girly seventeen-year-old and let her do the rest.”
Glancing over at the full-length mirror framed in, you bet, fuchsia rhinestones, I wondered what about me led my aunt to classify me as “girly.” I shopped at vintage thrift stores, lived in faded denim and colors found in nature, not ones manufactured in the land of Oz. I was wearing sneakers, cut-offs, and a flowy olive-colored blouse, pretty much the other end of the spectrum. The last girly thing I’d done was wear makeup on Halloween. I was a zombie.
Beside me, Mom was gaping at the room like she’d walked in on a crime scene. A gruesome crime scene.
“What the . . . pink?” she edited after I dug an elbow into her.
“You shouldn’t have.” I smiled at Aunt Julie when she turned toward me, still beaming.
“Yeah, Jules. You really shouldn’t have.” Mom shook her head, flinching when she noticed the furry pink stool tucked beneath the vanity that was resting beneath a huge cotton-candy-pink chandelier.
“It’s the first real bedroom this girl’s ever had. Of course I should have. I couldn’t not.” Aunt Julie moved toward the bed, fixing the smallest fold in the comforter.
“Jade’s had plenty of bedrooms.” Mom nudged me, glancing at the window. She was giving me an out. She had no idea how much more it would take than a horrendously pink room for me to want to take it.
“Oh, please. Harry Potter had a more suitable bedroom in that closet under the stairs than Jade’s ever had. You can’t consider something that either rolls down a highway or is bolted to a hotel floor an appropriate room for a young woman.” Aunt Julie wasn’t in dig mode; she was in honest mode.
That put Mom in unleash-the-beast mode.
Her face flashed red, but before she could spew whatever
comeback she had stewing inside, I cut in front of her. “Aunt Julie, would you mind if Mom and I had a few minutes alone?
You know, to say good-bye and everything?”
As infrequently as we visited the house on Providence Avenue, I fell into my role of referee like it was second nature.
“Of course not. We’ll have lots of time to catch up.” Aunt Julie gave me another pat on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “We’ll have all summer.” She’d just disappeared when her head popped back in the doorway. “Meg, can I get you anything to drink before you have to dash?”
“Whiskey,” Mom answered intently.
Aunt Julie chuckled like she’d made a joke, continuing down the hall.
I dropped my duffel on the pink zebra-striped throw rug.
“Mom—”
“You grew up seeing the world. Experiencing things most people will never get to in their whole lives.” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “You’ve got a million times the perspective of kids your age. A billion times more compassion and an understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Who is she to make me out to be some inadequate parent when all she cares about is raising obedient, genius robots? She doesn’t know what it was like for me. How hard it was.”
“Mom,” I repeated, dropping my hands onto her shoulders as I looked her in the eye. “You did great.”
It took a minute for the red to fade from her face, then another for her posture to relax. “You’re great. I just tried not to get in the way too much and screw all that greatness up.”
“And if you must know, I’d take any of the hundreds of rooms we’ve shared over this pinktastrophe.” So it was kind of a lie, the littlest of ones. Sure, pink was on my offensive list, but the room was clean and had a door, and I would get to stay in the same place at least for the next few months. After living out of suitcases and overnight bags for most of my life, I was looking forward to discovering what drawer-and-closet living was like.
Mom threw her arms around me, pulling me in for one of those final-feeling hugs. Except this time, it kind of wasa final one. Realizing that made me feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball down my throat.
“I love you no matter what,” she whispered into my ear again, the same words she’d sang, said, or on occasion shouted at me. Mom never just said I love you. She had something against those three words on their own. They were too open, too loosely defined, too easy to take back when something went wrong.
I love you no matter what had always been her way of telling me she loved me forever and for always. Unconditionally. She said that, before me, she’d never felt that type of love for anyone. What I’d picked up along the way on my own was that I was the only one she felt loved her back in the same way.
Squeezing my arms around my mom a little harder, I returned her final kind of hug. “I love you no matter what, too.”

 

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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USA TODAY 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 Way We Burn by Michelle Leighton….Release Day Blitz & Review

Blurb:

THE WAY WE BURN
M. Leighton

Irresistible attraction. Unimaginable danger.

I knew from the moment Noah Williamson walked into the diner that he was haunted—deeply haunted—but I couldn’t resist the lure of him. He was gorgeous and fascinating and mysterious, and like a delicate moth to a brilliant blue flame, I was drawn to him. Drawn to his fire.
But if I’d known about his job, about what happened to his wife, I’d have run the other way. Before I got caught up in the red-hot blaze of his life. Before everything in my world got burned to the ground.
It’s too late to run now. I hesitated and that was it. I fell. I fell for him before I knew there was danger in loving him.
Noah once told me that this is the way we burn—together or not at all. At the time, I didn’t know what that meant.

Now I do.

 

The Way We Burn is a love story…with a kicker! Suspense, chemistry, and twists galore, I can’t wait for you to jump in! But don’t be afraid. This is a stand alone VERY romantic story with a VERY satisfying ending. I promise:) xoxo M

LINKS:
Amazon US

ibooks

Nook

Kobo

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE
NOAH

Maryland, eighteen months ago

“Mind going over the story with me one more time?”
I stare at the detective. I see the disdain in his eyes. I see the disbelief. He came here with his mind made up. I’m suspect number one and we both know it. What we both don’t know is that I did nothing to my wife. I would never hurt her. I don’t think I could even if I had to, even if she was trying to hurt me. She is the only woman I’ve ever loved, the only person whose happiness means more to me than my own.
Except for our daughter.
Her happiness would’ve meant more to me than my own, too.
Would’ve.
Past tense.
Grief slices through my chest like a scalpel. Clean. Neat. Surgical. Like someone is cutting out my heart.
Five months ago, we lost our daughter. And now I’ve lost Carly. How the hell is a man supposed to live through something like this? A child. Then a spouse. This is the shit nightmares are made of.
And I would know. I’ve seen nightmares. Up close. Personal. The kind that sink their teeth in and leave marks. Wounds. Scars.
Sweat beads on my upper lip. I’ve never felt such an intense sense of loss, so much pain. So much helpless, hopeless agony.
A few months ago, I’d have said a person couldn’t bear hurt like this. I’d have said the human body couldn’t take it.
But I’d have been wrong.
It can.
I’m proof. I’m still alive, still standing. Damned if I know how, but I am. Even when I’d rather not be, I am. And now, on top of everything else, I’m being questioned like a felon. I’m the primary suspect in my wife’s disappearance, and every second they spend focusing on me is another second she’s further from being found.
But there’s nothing I can do to change that. It’s Basic Detecting 101. The husband is suspect numero uno. Why? Because it usually is the husband. I know that. I also know there will be no convincing them otherwise.
Maybe if I could split my chest wide open, they’d believe me. Maybe if they could see what I’m feeling, see the bruised and bleeding thing that used to be my heart, they’d understand. Maybe if they could physically see what this is doing to me, they’d look beyond the obvious. But outside of that, there’s nothing I can say to make them understand. That’s why there’s an edge to my voice when I answer this asshole’s questions. I may not be able to change it, but I sure as hell don’t have to like it.
“It’s not a ‘story’, Detective. It’s the truth. Carly left for work Tuesday morning at seven. She said she had an early meeting. I texted her at lunch to see if she needed me to bring anything from the store. She didn’t answer. I haven’t seen or heard from her since that morning. And that was almost sixty hours ago.”
Sixty hours. That’s twelve hours after “we’ve got a good chance of finding her”, and twelve hours before “hope for the best, but expect the worst.” The window is closing.
“Had you two fought before she left?”
There’s a dull throb just above the bridge of my nose. I pinch it between my index finger and thumb. “No, we hadn’t fought. We don’t fight anymore. At all. I told you we’ve both been recovering from…from…”
I can’t make the words come out. They’re stuck in my throat like tar—black and sticky and foreign. Bitter.
“The death of your daughter. Right, right. I feel you,” he placates, making more notes on his pad. “But they never recovered her body, isn’t that right, Mr. Williamson?”
My eyes snap up to his. Surely to God he’s not insinuating…
Zero to sixty in one second. In one sentence. That’s how long it takes my blood to come to a hard boil. Like lava down a mountainside, it rushes through my veins in a thick, hot river, destroying trees and grass and flowers and life as it goes. Killing off a little more of what was left of me.
I take a deep breath, striving for cool. Or even tepid. Anything but the blazing rage that’s pumping through me.
“Detective, I’m a patient man. I work for the FBI, so I understand how this process works. I also understand that I’m at the top of your list of suspects, so I get it. I get it. But let me make one thing crystal clear.” I take a step forward. “My daughter was killed. My child is dead. So while I have agreed to jump through all your hoops, make no mistake. My tolerance has its limits and you are dangerously close to finding out what happens when my patience runs out. I’ve got nothing left to lose. Not one thing, so wiping the floor with your smug ass might actually improve my situation. You feel that?” The last is hissed through teeth clenched so tight my jaws ache. I’m practically spitting down into his face, my chest close enough to bump his if I take a deep enough breath.
I can tell by the set of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes that I’ve pissed him off. But I can also tell that he’s not fool enough to press me one more inch right now. Not one more. It’s there in the way his pupils swell. It’s there in the way his nostrils flare. He won’t push me. He’s smarter than that.
My daughter is dead.
My wife is missing.
There’s nothing left. Nothing that matters. There’s nothing they can take from me or threaten me with. Surely this pathetic lackey knows what I know from years and years of experience—men like me are unpredictable.
Unpredictable and dangerous.

 

 

First off, I want to thank Michelle for reaching out and asking me to read this book before she even sent it out to bloggers to review. I am humbled that she would trust me and my opinion enough to ask this of me.

The Way We Burn is a book unlike any of Michelle’s previous work and I know that she took a risk not only writing this but choosing to release it. I am beyond thrilled that she took this leap and wrote a truly amazing story that will leave you gasping.

This review will be extremely vague because this is another book that you need to go into it blind; no preconceived ideas, notions or expectations. Without the risk of sound too cheesy, this book will burn you from inside out (ok, so it was cheesy but it is so true!!)

“When we jump, we risk falling. But we also risk flying.” Continue reading The Way We Burn by Michelle Leighton….Release Day Blitz & Review

Save the Date by Carrie Aarons…Release Day Blitz & Review

 

Title: Save the Date
Author: Carrie Aarons
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 24, 2018
Blurb
You know that pact you make with your childhood best
friend of the opposite sex? The one where, if you’re both still single, lonely
and hopeless at thirty, you’ll marry each other?
This is the story about what happens when you hit the big three-oh and have to
make good on that pinky promise.Personally, I think love, romance and all of that nonsense is a crock of, well,
you know. And Reese Collins, the boy who used to put worms in my hair at
backyard barbecues, knows that better than anyone.

But when he moves to the same city I’ve happily, and singly, inhabited for
years, memories of oaths past resurface. Reese is like a dog with a bone; a
really hot dog and that bone just happens to be me.

He won’t stop hounding me, and the crazy thing is, my frigid, traitorous heart
is starting to cave. For my best friend.

It seems so far off, when you’re a kid playing Monopoly in your treehouse. But
when that clock strikes midnight on your thirtieth birthday, and you’re
standing alone in front of a grocery store-bought cupcake, a childhood deal to
walk down the aisle doesn’t seem so silly anymore.

 

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links
99c for release day ONLY!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited

Save the Date is what I would call a perfect summer beach read. It is light, funny and all-around enjoyable.

Erin and Reese have been best friends since grade school. They are the yin and yang. Reese is outgoing and loves being around others and has this amazing outlook on love. Erin did until not too long when her parents’ divorced, leaving her with a bitter taste in her mouth. To say that Erin is a cynic of falling in love, would be putting it mildly.

They made a pact when they were young that if neither were married by 30, they would marry one another. Well, that day is fast approaching and where one is quite excited about the prospect of marrying one’s best friend, the other is throwing up every wall possibly. Until Reese is able to defrost Erin’s cold exterior and show her what she’s missing out on. And let’s just say that she is kicking her own ass!!

Carrie did a great job of writing this sweet and loveable story from both POVs. I loved seeing how things panned out from both sides and that made the story all the more enjoyable and sweet. Erin’s not too annoying with her cynical way of thinking and Reese isn’t too over the top with his romantic actions – they even one another out.

If you are ever looking for a book that gives you those feel good vibes and that permanent smile while you read, this is the book you want. Carrie delivers another amazing contemporary romance.

Author Bio

 

Author of romance
novels such as Red Card and Privileged, Carrie Aarons writes sexy, swoony and
sarcastic characters who won’t get out of her head until she puts them down on
a page.
 
Carrie has wanted to be an author since the first time she opened a book, and
still can’t fathom that she gets to live her dream each and every day.
 
When she isn’t in a writing coma, Carrie spends time Netflix-binging with her
husband, snuggling her infant daughter, and chasing her black Lab through the
dog parks of New Jersey.

 

Author Links

 

I Am Justice by Diana Munoz Stewart…Blog Tor Stop

About I Am Justice

Series: Band of Sisters (Book 1)

Mass Market Paperback: 384 pages

Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca (May 1, 2018)

“Fast-paced and edgy, high-octane and sexy, I Am Justice is a must-read!”–JULIE ANN WALKERNew York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Black Knights Inc. series

This bad-ass band of sisters plays for keeps.

She’s ready to start a war
Justice Parish takes down bad guys. Rescued from the streets by the world renowned Parish family, she joined their covert sisterhood of vigilante assassins. Her next target: a sex-trafficking ring in the war-torn Middle East. She just needs to get close enough to take them down…

He just wants peace
Sandesh Ross left Special Forces to found a humanitarian group to aid war-torn countries. But saving the world isn’t cheap. Enter Parish Industriesand limitless funding, with one catch–their hot, prickly ‘PR specialist’, Justice Parish.

Their chemistry is instant and off-the-charts. But when Justice is injured and her cover blown, Sandesh has to figure out if he can reconcile their missions. With danger dogging their every move, their white-hot passion can change the world–if it doesn’t destroy them first.

“Diana Muñoz Stewart explodes onto the scene with I Am Justice. It’s witty, dangerous, fun, and smoking hot–the perfect can’t-put-it-down read if you love badass women, honorable men, scary bad guys, non-stop action and steam heat.”–CINDY DEES, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

“Revenge is best served cold, but Justice serves it scorching hot. Spellbinding, sizzling. Takes your breath away. Unsurpassed romantic suspense.”–PATRICIA GUSSIN, New York Times bestselling author of Come Home

“A tense, fiery writing style that drags you in and won’t let go.” –PAIGE TYLER, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the SWAT series

Purchase Links

Amazon | Books-A-Million | Barnes & Noble

 

About Diana Munoz Stewart

Diana Munoz Stewart is the award-winning, romantic suspense author of the Band of Sisters series, which includes I Am Justice, I Am Grace, and I Am Honor. Visit her at dianamunozstewart.com.

Connect with Diana

Website | Facebook | Twitter

 

 

Diana Munoz Stewart’s TLC Book Tours TOUR STOPS:

Monday, May 21st: The Book Diva’s Reads – spotlight

Tuesday, May 22nd: From the TBR Pile

Wednesday, May 23rd: A Chick Who Reads

Friday, May 25th: Bewitched Bookworms

Monday, May 28th: Books & Spoons

Tuesday, May 29th: Reading Reality

Wednesday, May 30th: The Book Disciple and @thebookdisciple

Thursday, May 31st: What is That Book About – spotlight

Friday, June 1st: Moonlight Rendezvous

Friday, June 1st: @booknerdingout

Tuesday, June 5th: Stranded in Chaos

Tuesday, June 5th: @novelgrounds

Saturday, June 9th: @jesssiereads 

Monday, June 11th: @girlandherbooks

Tuesday, June 12th: Mystery Suspense Reviews

Wednesday, June 13th: @_literary_dreamer_ 

Friday, June 14th: Why Girls Are Weird

Wednesday, June 20th: Evermore Books

Friday, June 22nd: Read Love Blog – spotlight

Cover Reveal…Mixed Up Love by Natasha Madison

WE ARE SO THRILLED TO BRING YOU THE COVER FOR THE NEXT STANDALONE FROM NATASHA MADISON!

MIXED UP LOVE RELEASES ON AUGUST 7TH!

 

 

 

 

Hunter

When my business partner asked me to do him a favor, I had no idea he was sending me on a blind date his mother arranged for him. I walked in the bar, saw the woman drinking her third martini, and knew I was in for an eventful night.

After the unexpected second date, she didn’t know my real name or who I really was. By that time, the lie was too far gone, and I wanted her too much to admit the truth.

Laney

It’s not every day you find out your ex-boyfriend is engaged.

I shouldn’t have agreed to the blind date. My mother insisted, and I wasn’t in any position to turn down a night out.

I will admit, I definitely shouldn’t have ordered that fourth martini before said blind date even arrived.

The man turned out to be swoon worthy, handsome, condescending—a perfect distraction. Then I found out he was a liar.

I’ve never been in over my head to this degree.

Then again, I’ve never been in love.

 

 

PRE-ORDER NOW

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When her nose isn’t buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she’s in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It’s a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn’t listen to her…
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