Excerpt Reveal…The Plan by Ella James

 

The Plan by Ella James is coming

November 13th!

 

ADD to Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36046927-the-plan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Synopsis:

You’ve heard this story before. Woman feels her biological clock ticking and gets someone to knock her up.

Not for love, for baby.

Crazy, right?

That’s what I thought.

Then I found out my fiancé had a vasectomy. The life I thought I had? Nope. Suddenly I’m 33, and I don’t even have a kissing buddy.

When my mom’s health takes a turn and I wind up back in my hometown of Fate, Alabama, I tell myself to leave things up to…well, you know.

Then I see Gabriel McKellan. He’s Fate’s most famous son, a bestselling author who is beautiful, complicated, and living just below me. In addition to his plus-sized brain, Gabe’s well-endowed in other ways, and great in bed to boot. I would know. He’s my ex husband.

When I suggest The Plan, I don’t imagine that he’ll take the bait. It’s been ten years, and we don’t work. But Fate has other plans for both of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

EXCERPT

I climb inside the U-Haul and grab two small things first: my favorite Elvis lamp and a box of yarn and clay, easy pickings for my first trip up the stairs to my rented digs. Then I grab my purse off the truck’s rear ledge, step down, and—

“Oofh!”

I blink at the wall I’ve just slammed into, and there he is. At first, I think I’m seeing things. I blink a few times, fast, to try to magic him away. Hallucination. But…he’s not.

His curly hair is wild and dark, just like it always was. His blue-gray eyes—more blue, although he claims they’re gray—are just as sharp as I recall. His face is still so striking: dark brows over a stern, strong nose, and high cheekbones. My gaze skates over his rich mouth, and I realize I’d forgotten how handsome he is.

Gabriel McKellan is famous at least in part because he looks like such a god. The familiarity of him hits me like a ball of ice right to the gut, but where he’s different makes me warm. That stubble-beard, the way his jaw is sharper, shoulders thicker. My gaze skates down his white t-shirt, pasted over rigid abs. I note his forearms—thicker, tanned—before appraising jeans-clad thighs.

One flexes.

Shit.

My errant gaze jerks back up, where I find his features twisted in a scowl.

“What are you doing?” he asks roughly.

I blink. “What?”

Gabe’s brows pinch together, and he glares behind me, at the truck. “What are you doing here, Marley?”

I look around the quiet, leaf-strewn street, trying to explain not what I’m doing, but why I’m seeing him here. Nothing looks amiss, though. Nothing to suggest I’ve had a mental break.

“I’m moving back to Fate. Today,” I add, my voice a squeak above its normal octave.

Gabe’s foot taps the curb between us. Even barefoot, he’s a domineering prick. I inhale slowly, bringing my heart-rate down a notch, so I seem more gathered when I ask, “Where are your shoes?”

“Why did you park here,” he demands again.

“Because I’m moving in?” It’s not a question, but it sounds like one. I bug my eyes out in response to his mean stare. “What are you doing here—and where are your shoes?”

“My shoes are inside.”

I blink at the porch behind him. “Inside where?”

“Inside the house behind me.”

“What?”

Gabe’s head is still shaking, his jaw locked like an angry sentry.

“What the hell is this about?” My heart begins to pound. “Are you my greeting party?”

“I’m your warning party,” he says quietly.

“Warning me from what?”

“I live here, Marley. On the bottom floor.”

“But…you’re—”

“I’m living here.” His face hardens. “I think that means you need to close your truck and go.”

Is he insane? My head spins. Gabe can’t be… “You can’t live here,” I sputter. “You live in New York!”

For an instant, I feel sure this is a joke: a TV joke. Famous author/director shocks unknown ex-wife by popping up at her new place.

“Is there a hidden camera?” I ask lamely.

“No, Marley. There’s not. There’s just a house—with room for one.”

“Yeah…me.”

His lush mouth tightens. “I don’t think so.”

I laugh. “Oh—you watch.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ella James is the USA Today and Amazon Top 10 bestselling author of more than twenty love stories. She’s an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.

Ella is an Alabama native who makes her home in Colorado with her husband, three young children, and hyperactive dog. When she’s not writing, she can be found hiking the foothills, taking nature photos for her Instagram account, or swilling vanilla cream soda.

 

 

 

CONNECT WITH ELLA

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ellajamesauthorpage/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1530940.Ella_James

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xJeJYt

Website: https://www.ellajamesbooks.com

Subscribe to Ella’s newsletter: https://www.ellajamesbooks.com/newsletter/

 

Cover Reveal…On The Way To You by Kandi Steiner

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On the Way to You, an emotional new standalone from Kandi Steiner is coming November 16th!

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On the Way to You by Kandi Steiner

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publishing Date: November 16th, 2017

Photographer: Lauren Watson Perry with Perrywinkle Photography

What makes you happy?

That was the question Emery Reed asked me the day we met, and I couldn’t give him a single answer. I could have said my dog, or my books, or yoga — but I just stared.

And then, I got in his car.

It was crazy to take a road trip with a stranger, but after years of standing still, he was my one-way ticket to a new life, and I wasn’t going to miss it.

We shared the same space, the same car, the same hotel room — and still, we were strangers.

One day we’d be laughing, the next, we wouldn’t speak. Emery was surrounded by impenetrable walls, but I wanted in.

Discovering his journal changed everything.

I read his thoughts, words not meant for anyone’s eyes, and the more I learned about him, the harder I fell. It turned out nothing made Emery Reed happy, and I wanted to change that.

I earned his trust by violating his privacy, and as wrong as it was, it worked — until one entry revealed a darkness I never knew existed, a timer I never knew was ticking.

Suddenly, what made me happy was saving Emery from himself. I just didn’t know if I could.

Add to GoodReads: bit.ly/OtWtYGR

About the Author:

Kandi Steiner is a Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University of Central Florida living in Tampa. Kandi works full time as a social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor and blackjack dealer.

Kandi started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).

When Kandi isn’t working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not necessarily in that order.

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Connect with the Author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KandiSteiner/

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fV1FZW

Twitter: @KandiSteiner

Sign up for Kandi’s Newsletter here: https://goo.gl/TLsut8

Website: http://kandisteiner.com

Excerpt Reveal…The Other Reveal by Meghan Quinn

 

I got the call. The dreaded call every child fears. My dad wasn’t well, and the man who had always been my everything needed me.

There was only one thing to do; pack up and head back to my hometown. I had finally made my dream life in the city with the great job and loving boyfriend. But was there really a choice not to go?

I found a wonderful job, a quaint house to rent, my boyfriend was working on joining me in Binghamton, and my favorite pizza place was only miles away. Life was good.

Until I met my neighbor.

It’s been three years since I’d seen Aaron Walters, and my God is he all kinds of sexy gorgeous. Figures. He was supposed to be my forever, the man I grew old with, but he had different plans. How can a man who ripped my heart apart still trip me up? How can he make me still want him now more than ever?

I’m tempted, I’m drawn toward him, I’m completely and utterly unaware that I’m dating his biological brother.

Now two men own my heart. The question is, which brother will I choose?

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ENJOY THIS EXCERPT FROM THE OTHER BROTHER

 

 

Right on time, I’m impressed.

She doesn’t get out of her car right away, so I give her a second but then realize maybe she’s not exiting the vehicle because I have the key to the house and she has nowhere to go.

Wanting to make a good impression and seem approachable since I’m the property manager, I run my hand through my hair and adjust my jeans. I’m not wearing any fancy shit, but at least I don’t have holes in or paint stains on my clothes. I hop off my front porch and make my way toward her car, slowly, not wanting to scare her.

There is muffling coming from her car, voices I can’t quite hear, but I get the idea she’s finishing up a conversation, so I slow my pace drastically. That’s when I see her tilt her head down and look at me. From the reflection of the light off her windows, I can’t make out her features. I can only see a silhouette.

I lift a friendly hand in her direction to let her know I come in peace and make my way to her driveway. There is no wave back, but I do hear the telltale sound of her opening her car door. She steps out and when I round the vehicle, I catch the sun off her driver’s side window, temporarily blinding me.

Blinking my eyes a few times to calm my retinas, I bring her into focus.

“Aaron . . .”

Every hair on my body sticks straight up and my body goes still from that voice, that unmistakably sultry voice.

When she finally comes into view, I am met with a pair of hazel eyes I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the day she left town for bigger and better things.

“Amelia.” I clear my throat and take a step forward. “Wow, I uh . . .” Tongue-tied, that’s exactly what I am right now. “Didn’t expect to see you get out of that car.” I laugh nervously while I pull on the back of my neck, trying to comprehend what’s going on. I point with my thumb toward the house and ask, “You’re the new tenant?”

She nods and looks me over, taking her time with her perusal, her eyes burning a hole right through my clothes like they used to. When her eyes meet mine again, she asks, “You’re the property manager?”

I nod and swallow hard. “And neighbor.”

She presses her lips together, thinning them out. “What are the chances?” She laughs nervously.

“Yeah, especially since I thought your life was in the city.” I didn’t mean for that to come out rude, but it did. Gentling my voice, I ask, “What brings you back home?”

Staring at the ground, clutching her purse to her side, she says, “My dad. He’s, uh, not doing well.” Duh, Mrs. Ferguson mentioned something like that. I’m so damn overwhelmed and shocked right now though, that entire conversation I had with Mrs. Ferguson is not registering in my mind.

“Oh no.” My brow pinches together in concern. “What happened?”

She waves me off. “Nothing you need to worry about.” And just like that she shuts me down. Honestly, I’m surprised she said that much to me after how we ended things between us.

Yes, there was an us, a perfectly beautiful, love-filled us. Amelia Santos was the best thing to ever happen to me, and yet, she was also the worst. During a time where my heart broke from every uncaring glance from my mom, Amelia resurrected me from the ashes I would have otherwise drowned in. She was my rock, the one solid feature in my life.

She was also my downfall.

She was going places, and I wasn’t. She had opportunity, and I had none. She wanted me to move with her, and I couldn’t, but no way in hell would I hold her back. I barely made it out of my mom’s house. There were many days when I tried hard to earn a buck so I could find a place to live other than the homeless shelter where I spent many lonely nights. Amelia deserved better than that, so I pushed her away to achieve her dreams. Little did I know, breaking up with her would send me in the biggest downward spiral of my life. The only reason I’m the man I am today is because after hitting rock bottom, I knew things needed to change, and it was up to me to make something of myself. So I worked my ass off. And now at thirty, I can say proudly that I’m a co-owner of an up-and-coming construction company as well as the proud owner of a house in the heart of Hillcrest, a beautiful two-story house. I’m doing well for myself . . . at least that’s what I thought until Amelia stepped out of her car.

Now I’m questioning every little thing about my life leading to this point.

 

 

 

 

 

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!

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Cover Reveal….Inseperable by Siobhan Davis

Today is the cover reveal for Inseparable by Siobhan Davis. This cover reveal is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours.

InseparableInseparable
By Siobhan Davis
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Age category: New Adult
Release Date: 9 January, 2018

Blurb:
A gritty, angsty, friends-to-lovers standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author Siobhan Davis.

A childhood promise. An unbreakable bond. One tragic event that shatters everything.

It all started with the boys next door…

Devin and Ayden were my best friends. We were practically joined at the hip since age two. When we were kids, we thought we were invincible, inseparable, that nothing or no one could come between us.

But we were naive.

Everything turned to crap our senior year of high school.

Devin was turning into a clone of his deadbeat lowlife father—fighting, getting wasted, and screwing his way through every girl in town. I’d been hiding a secret crush on him for years. Afraid to tell him how I felt in case I ruined everything. So, I kept quiet and slowly watched him self-destruct with a constant ache in my heart.

Where Devin was all brooding darkness, Ayden was the shining light. Our star quarterback with the bright future whom everyone loved. But something wasn’t right. He was so guarded, and he wouldn’t let me in.

When Devin publicly shamed me, Ayden took my side, and our awesome-threesome bond was severed. The split was devastating. The heartbreak inevitable.

Gradually, Ayden and I grew closer. We graduated and moved on with our lives, but the pain never lessened, and Devin was never far from our thoughts.

Until it all came to a head in college, and one eventful night changed everything.

Now, I’ve lost the two people who matter more to me than life itself. Nothing will ever be the same again.

Want to be notified when Inseparable goes on pre-order and when it releases? Fill out this form.

Inseparable Excerpt:

Prologue

Present Day – Angelina

Life is just a flow of interconnecting moments in time. A combination of well-thought-out actions and spontaneous reactions. A sequence of events and people moving in and out of your personal stratosphere.
At least, that’s how I’ve always viewed it.
Like a squiggly line veering up and down with no apparent pattern. Plotting the highs; pinpointing the lows. Showcasing the happy times. Highlighting the mistakes and the resulting consequences. Calling into focus all the myriad of things I should’ve done differently if I had known.
When I was a kid, I was obsessed with the notion of time—making a beeline for the fortune tellers every year when the carnival descended on the wide, open grassy field just outside town. I saved my pocket money all year round so I could have my fortune told. The idea that you could see into the future, to know what was around the corner, held an enormous fascination for me.
I wanted to make something of my life.
To dedicate myself to a profession that helped others.
To know happiness awaited me.
To receive confirmation that the two most important people in my life would always be in it. Because even the thought I could lose Ayden or Devin always sent horrific tremors of fear rushing through me.
For as long as I can remember, it had always been the three of us. Best friends to the end. The awesome-threesome. Forever infinity. It was a friendship more akin to family. A meeting of minds and hearts and promises. A connection so deep that we swore nothing or no one would ever come between us. We committed ourselves in a secret bond when we were twelve, and the commitment was imprinted on my heart in the same way it was inked on my skin.
I could never have predicted what was to come.
That I’d be the one to destroy everything.
No fortune teller ever told me that.
For years, I’ve thought of nothing but the what-ifs, and obsessed over so many questions.
What if a fortune teller had told me what would come to pass?
Would things have been different?
What would I change?
Would I have had the strength to stay away from my two best friends? To forge a completely different path in life? To deny something that was intrinsically a part of myself? Could I slice my heart apart knowing it was the right thing to do?
For years these questions have plagued me.
But I’m too afraid to confront the truth even though it’s front and center. Even though I carry it with me like a thundercloud, hovering and threatening but never opening up, never letting the storm loose.
Some truths are far too painful to acknowledge out loud.
As if to speak the words would confirm what I already know about myself.
That I’m weak, selfish, and not at all the person I thought I was.
Perhaps that’s why we don’t have that cognitive ability—to see the future, to know what lies ahead. I’ve thought of it often. If it’s evolution. If at some time in the future humans will be able to sense the path of their destiny. To alter their fate. To assume full control over every aspect of their life with conscious decision.
For now, all I’ve got is that squiggly line and a huge helping of regret.
What good comes from continually looking back? From locking myself in the haunted mansion of my past? Meandering with the ghosts of guilt and shame? For a girl who spent her happy youth so focused on the future, it’s a very sorry state of affairs. But I’m stuck in this washing machine that is my so-called life. The faster it churns, the more I lose myself. So, I try to stop time. To stand still. To numb myself to my reality. To blank out feeling and emotion. To close myself off. To never allow another human to imprint on my heart or to see into the black, murky depths of my soul.
The honest truth is, if I’d had a crystal ball—if I’d known what was going to happen—I still wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Because I would’ve missed those high points. Those happy memories that are the only thing keeping me alive right now.
If that’s what you can call my current existence.
And that makes me the most selfish, conceited liar on the planet.
***
Copyright © Siobhan Davis 2017

Sign up here to be notified when this book goes on pre-order in December 2017. You will also receive an email when it’s released in January.

SiobhanAbout the Author:
USA Today bestselling author Siobhan Davis writes emotionally intense young adult and new adult fiction with swoon-worthy romance, complex characters, and tons of unexpected plot twists and turns that will have you flipping the pages beyond bedtime! She is the author of the international bestselling True Calling, Saven, and Kennedy Boys series.

Siobhan’s family will tell you she’s a little bit obsessive when it comes to reading and writing, and they aren’t wrong. She can rarely be found without her trusty Kindle, a paperback book, or her laptop somewhere close at hand.

Prior to becoming a full-time writer, Siobhan forged a successful corporate career in human resource management.

She resides in the Garden County of Ireland with her husband and two sons.

You can find and contact Siobhan here:
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Fault Lines by Rebecca Shea….Release Day Blitz & Review

 

 

From USA Today bestselling author, Rebecca Shea, comes a new, heartbreakingly beautiful standalone romance, FAULT LINES. Don’t miss the stunning and captivating new release, and grab your copy today!

 

About FAULT LINES:

At eleven he was my first crush. At sixteen he became mine. At nineteen he broke my heart and destroyed me. That was ten years ago and the last time I saw Cole Ryan.

They say you never get over your first love…I beg to differ. I left my shattered heart buried in a town I never expected to return to. I erased every thought of him and buried the memories never to be found.

I moved on…now ten years later I have the perfect life, the perfect fiancé, the perfect career. Everything I ever wanted until I’m forced to go back and face my past and the man that destroyed me.

He won’t stop until I know the truth no matter how hard I fight it. In the end, lies will be uncovered, hearts will be broken, and my life as I’ve come to know it destroyed.

 

 

FAULT LINES is now available! Grab your copy today!

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play

Add to your Goodreads

 

 

 

 

Once again – another book that I enjoyed while reading, but it’s one that I don’t find myself remembering in a short time or wanting to go back and re-read because it was that damn good. And it’s these reviews that I hate the most writing.

I love Rebecca and her books – she writes beautiful stories. And while I am reading, I am so into the story and the characters and how everything pans out. But once it’s over, I move on and forget about it in a few weeks. :/ UGH

Rebecca gives us a story on second chances. Frankie moved out of town after her freshman year of college and hasn’t looked back since. She’s forced to return back 10 years later when her mom’s health is failing. And she hopes that while she is back in town she doesn’t run into the one person who made her flee all those years ago.

Cole made the hardest decision when he had Frankie believe a lie that forced her to leave their hometown. He has not been the same man since but has chosen to try and forget Frankie in booze and women. But he’s also tried to become a better man by rebuilding his small hometown in the process along with expanding his father’s business.

Cole knows that Frankie is returning home but doesn’t expect to be able to make any amends for their past. But they both are holding and hiding so much back from one another that tension between them is bound to snap. And snap it does.

As I said, I really enjoyed this story as I read it. The story line is sort of played out but Rebecca brings it some fresh air but adding in her own style and letting things play out naturally. Cole and Frankie were inseparable growing up and you can tell that time hasn’t changed that connection. I truly loved that it wasn’t these two apart for like 90% of the book and then poof, HEA. No, Rebecca has them easing into the start of something new about 60% and building that strong foundation they once had. Yes, there are still some road blocks thrown up I loved that we got to see them slowly achieve that HEA, like life normally is.

As I said before, I liked the book. There wasn’t anything that wow’d me but it wasn’t a bad book either. It was just a really nice and enjoyable read. There were some small angsty parts but nothing overly dramatic and it all worked out in the end.

 

 

 

 

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DIRECT LINK: https://youtu.be/2K729a6hyig

 

 

About Rebecca Shea:

Rebecca Shea is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Unbreakable series (Unbreakable, Undone, and Unforgiven) and the Bound and Broken series (Broken by Lies and Bound by Lies). She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters. When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her sons’ football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever afters.

 

 

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The Fortunate Ones by R.S. Grey….PreOrder

THE FORTUNATE ONES by R.S. Grey releases November 1st and you can now preorder your copy for just .99c before the price goes up on release day! Find out more about THE FORTUNATE ONES below and preorder your copy today!

 

About THE FORTUNATE ONES

At Twin Oaks Country Club, there are the fortunate ones, and then there are the rest of us: the waiters, the caddies, the valets, and in my case, the cabana girls. Most days, I’m poolside in a pleated skirt, dishing out margaritas to tycoons and titans. It’s not exactly my dream job, but it does come with one perk…

James Ashwood.

He’s my silver lining in a custom black suit.

Besides being a legacy member at the club, he’s a tech mogul and Austin’s most eligible bachelor. Oh, and those dimples? Yeah, they make my stomach dip too.

On good days, I catch his sleek Porsche winding down the tree-lined drive. On better days, I steal a glimpse of his handsome profile as we pass in the hall. And on the absolute best day, I find him alone at the bar, looking for company.

“Come have a seat.”

Those four little words set me down a path I never could have imagined. Private planes, penthouse suites, and temptations around every corner make it impossible to keep my distance. His world feels decadent and wild—but overindulgence comes with a cost. Every kiss comes with strings. Every erotic encounter is a promise I’m not ready to keep.

When I pump the brakes, he hits the gas. James doesn’t want to go slow—he wants a commitment.

And the thing about the fortunate ones?

They’re used to getting what they want.

Add THE FORTUNATE ONES to your Goodreads list here!

Preorder your copy of THE FORTUNATE ONES for 99c now!

About R.S. Grey

R.S. Grey is the USA Today bestselling author of thirteen novels, including THE FOXE & THE HOUND. She lives in Texas with her husband and two dogs, and can be found reading, binge-watching reality TV, or practicing yoga! Visit her at rsgrey.com

Website | Twitter | Facebook | R.S. Grey’s Little Reds Facebook Group | Newsletter | Instagram

Always Red by Isabelle Ronin…Spotlight

The highly anticipated and epic conclusion to the Chasing Red duology

“Red,” Caleb whispered. “Do you know how I felt when you left me?”

 

I looked into his eyes. The emotion I saw in them, the intensity, and the tenderness filled up my throat.

 

“I felt ruined. Because, Red, every time you break me apart, you put me back together. And I always come out better than before.”

 

“So,” he cupped my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Ruin me.”

 

Chasing Red Duology:

Chasing Red (Book 1)

Always Red (Book 2)

http://books.sourcebooks.com/chasing-red/

EXCERPT

We were back at the beach. It was past midnight, and the place was deserted, as if it had been waiting for us all day.
As if it had been waiting for this moment.
We lay on the sand, on the same blanket he’d brought when he took us here the very first time. It seemed like a long time ago. Before, he would have reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.
Not this time.
I turned onto my side so I could look at Caleb. His eyes were closed. The breeze blew a lock of his bronze hair against his forehead, and I wanted to brush it back so badly.
“I miss you, Caleb.”
He didn’t respond. His eyes remained closed, but I knew he heard me because I saw his breath catch in his chest.
I had hurt him badly, and he was probably still angry at me. He must hate me, but I would rather have that than a cold shoulder.
I needed to explain. I needed to tell him what I really felt.
I took a deep breath, gathering courage. “All my life I had to work hard to get the things I wanted. To reach the places I needed to be. I had to be strong—stronger than most people. Because I had to be. I shut out everyone. And why not?”
I rolled onto my back and looked up to the dark velvet sky, at the bright half-moon and the stars glittering like diamonds. It was so beautiful, so peaceful with the sound of the lapping waves. But a storm was brewing inside me.
“People are selfish,” I continued. “They always want something from you, and when they get it, they leave. So I never let anyone in. But then…I met you. You made me feel. You made me want things that I never allowed myself to want before. And it scared me. It scared me so much. So I didn’t trust you. I didn’t allow myself to. Every time I felt myself getting close to you, I pulled away.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “Because…because it hurts to hope for the impossible. How can someone like you want to know someone like me? All I have is a suitcase of sad stories and a broken heart. My walls are high and impossible to break down, and I won’t let anyone in. But I felt your warmth…seeping through the cracks. How did you know where to find me?” My voice broke. “No one else ever worked to find me, Caleb. No one else stayed long enough to even try”—I felt a tear slide down my cheek— “until you.”
I sat up, pulling my legs close to my chest and burying my face in my arms. I felt him sit up and move closer to me.
“I didn’t trust what you felt for me,” I admitted. “I was scared. I kept waiting for you to disappoint me. Everyone else did. And I think that…that…somehow there’s something wrong with me. Something missing. That I’m not enough to make you stay, that somehow, someday you’re going to get bored with me and leave.” I sobbed. “All my life, my dad told me it was my fault. That I was the reason for all the bad things…” I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about him. I didn’t even know why I’d mentioned him.
“I wish he was in front of me so I could hurt him,” Caleb said. “More than he hurt you.”
I heard the anger in his voice. He paused for a moment, and I could hear him breathing slowly, trying to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice had softened.
“Red,” he whispered. “Do you know how I felt when you left me?”
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. The emotion I saw in them—the intensity and the tenderness—filled my throat.
“I felt ruined. You ruined me. There is anger, but every time I see you, my anger fades away. And there is pain, but what is love without pain? Because, Red, every time you break me apart, you put me back together. And I always come out better than before. So.” He cupped my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Ruin me.”

 

Written In Flames by Eva Logan & Ashleigh Giannoccaro…Release Blitz

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WRITTEN IN FLAMES, a Romantic Suspense by Eva Logan & Ashleigh Giannoccaro is LIVE!

Written-in-Flames-Ebook

Now I lay me down to sleep

I dream of flames that are soul deep

But if they should come

Before the night is done

I pray the lord my heart to save

If the fire my flesh should crave.

Nolan Leith: pyromaniac, recluse, and predator perched above the world.

Delilah Carmine: heir to a failing business, ballerina, and obsessive compulsive.

The pull of the fire was never something he could ignore. Even now, he barely controls the need to set the entire world alight. His one lover is a flaming seductress that taunts him with her beauty and danger. He couldn’t resist if he tried. Will they all get burned, or will they rise from their ashes?

Delilah brings with her an intruder to his sacred zone. Curiosity has her trespassing upstairs. Her nocturnal neighbor fascinates her, the brooding tenant above her has her enthralled and captivated. She needs to be the one to extinguish his burning needs, but will he have tolerance for her compulsive habits or will he see Red?

Passion is a wildfire which devours everything in its path.

Broken people shouldn’t play with matches.

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AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU

WATCH THE BOOK TRAILER: HERE

 

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Hallow Be The Haunt by Heather Graham…Excerpt Tour Stop

From New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham, comes the sexy and suspenseful title…HALLOW BE THE HAUNT, a new novella in the A Krewe of Hunters series brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights! Grab your copy of this amazing novella today!

 

About HALLOW BE THE HAUNT (A Krewe of Hunters Novella):

Years ago, Jake Mallory fell in love all over again with Ashley Donegal–while he and the Krewe were investigating a murder that replicated a horrible Civil War death at her family’s Donegal Plantation.

Now, Ashley and Jake are back–planning for their wedding, which will take place the following month at Donegal Plantation, her beautiful old antebellum home.

But Halloween is approaching. And Ashley is haunted by a ghost warning her of deaths about to
come in the city of New Orleans, deaths caused by the same murderer who stole the life of the beautiful ghost haunting
her dreams, night after night.

At first, Jake is afraid that returning home has simply awakened some of the fear of the past . . . .

But as Ashley’s nightmares continue, a body count begins to accrue in the city . . . .

And it’s suddenly a race to stop a killer before Hallow’s Eve comes to a crashing end, with dozens more life at stake, not
to mention heart, soul, and life for Jake and Ashley themselves.

 

 

Grab your copy of HALLOW BE THE HAUNT today!

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada | Amazon AU

 

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Excerpt:

“This seat taken?”

She turned and smiled. Jake was there, looking exceptionally handsome in a casual jacket and trousers. No tie, shirt slightly open. He was very tall—six-four—and his shoulders were nicely broad, but he could appear almost lean. His hair was at a rakish angle over his forehead.

“I’ll make room for you, sir,” she said.

“Soda?”

“Yes. With lime. Makes it fancy.”

He ordered for them both and took her hand, twining their fingers. “Should be champagne.”

“Not tonight.”

“No, not tonight,” he agreed. “But, I promise…”

She heard the guilt in his voice and tightened her grip, willing him to understand. “Jake, it’s all right. I promise. This isn’t just what you do—it’s who you are. And, I’m proud of that.”

“You’re doing okay, right?”

“Of course. Oh, because I was dreaming.”

“I really don’t like what’s going on.”

“With me—or the murdered girl and the slashed hood?”

“All of the above,” he sighed. “But for now, let’s focus on dinner.”

“What did you do? You think these are associated? Tell me—”

“After.” He brushed her lips with his. “Let’s have an almost romantic dinner first.”

The maître’d showed them to their table. Ashley loved the sense of history at Antoine’s. And the food was amazing too.

Once they were seated and had ordered, Jake smiled. “Wedding plans. How are they going?”

“The space is all cleared out for the wedding. We have plenty of room—luckily, a lot of our friends come as couples, so doubling them up won’t be a problem. No rooms are rented out for the weeks before and after. Oh, and you know how the main hall has the winding staircases on either side? I’ll come down the left with Frazier. He’s so excited. We’ll be married at the base of the stairs, and then take the reception out to the grounds. It really should be beautiful. Actually, whatever we do will be beautiful. You know, I’d be fine with a justice of the peace.”

“I would never do that to your grandfather,” he chuckled.

“No, I guess not.” She grinned.

He leaned toward her, twirling soda in his glass. “So, do you have plans for later?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heather Graham’s HALLOW BE THE HAUNT – Review & Excerpt Tour Schedule:

October 25th

Between The Bookends – Review

Panty dropping Book Blog – Review

October 26th

Friends Till The End Book Blog – Excerpt

Read-Love-Blog – Excerpt

Sascha Darlington’s Microcosm Explored – Review & Excerpt

October 27th

eRomance News – Excerpt

Reading Escape Reviews – Excerpt

Vagabonda Reads – Review & Excerpt

October 28th

KDRBCK – Review

Reading Between the Wines Book Club – Excerpt

October 29th

Brittany’s Book Blog – Excerpt

Lisa Loves Literature – Excerpt

October 30th

A Brit and a Yank – Excerpt

BTH Reviews – Review & Excerpt

I Can’t Help Where My Mind Goes – Review & Excerpt

October 31st

Naughty Book Eden – Excerpt

Pardon My Blurb – Excerpt

Reese’s Reviews – Review & Excerpt

November 1st

Amazeballs Book Addicts – Review & Excerpt

Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog – Excerpt

The Romance Reviews – Review

November 2nd

All Things Dark & Dirty – Excerpt

I love My bookgasms blog – Review & Excerpt

JOJO THE BOOKAHOLIC – Review & Excerpt

November 3rd

Bobo’s Book Bank – Excerpt

Sofia Loves Books – Review & Excerpt

 

 

 

 

About Heather Graham:

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Heather Graham has always been an avid reader, from classics to sci-fi, mystery, horror, thriller, romance, and all kinds of non-fiction. She’s fairly certain that her mom’s deliciously crazy family–arriving in the US a bit before her birth from Ireland–gave her the love of storytelling. She started out in theater and commercials, but once her children began to arrive, she stayed home and gave writing a try. She’s incredibly grateful to be doing what she’s doing for a living. Heather belongs to MWA, RWA, Sisters in Crime, HWA, and ITW, and has the recipient of the RWA Lifetime Achievement Award, a Silver Bullet for charitable works, and this year, she will receive the Thriller Master title from ITW. She has over 200 novels in print, and has been published in 22 languages.

 

 

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

 

 

 

Release Day Blitz….Exp1re by Erin Noelle

 

 

 

 

 

Numbers.
They haunt me.
I can’t look into a person’s eyes without seeing the six-digit date of their death.
I’m helpless to change it, no matter how hard I try.
I’ve trained myself to look down. Away. Anywhere but at their eyes.
My camera is my escape. My salvation. Through its lens, I see only beauty and life—not death and despair.
Disconnected from all those around me, I’m content being alone, simply existing.
Until I meet him.
Tavian.
The man beyond the numbers.
How can I stay away, when everything about him draws me in?
But how can I fall in love, knowing exactly when it will expire?

 

 

 

PROLOGUE
Lyra

10.18.02
The intercom crackles loudly throughout the classroom, interrupting Ms. Sherman’s rather uninspiring Friday afternoon lesson on the life cycle of a star. Even though most of the students around me are furiously jotting down notes about nebulas, red giants, and supernovas, I’m half listening while I doodle caricatures of me and my friends in the margin of my notebook. It’s not that I’m not interested in the material she’s talking about. No, that’s not the case at all. It’s quite the opposite actually; science is my favorite subject, especially anything that deals with astronomy and the unknowns in our universe.
But with a dad who is a super-smart astronomer at Johnson Space Center—or NASA, as most people here in Houston call it—I learned about this stuff she’s teaching before I ever started kindergarten. Heck, just this past summer before fifth grade, Mama and I went to visit him at a planetarium in Hawaii, where he was part of a team that discovered eleven new moons orbiting Jupiter! If I don’t ace this test next week, I better not even go home. I definitely wouldn’t be able to be an astronaut then.  
“Ms. Sherman, can you please have Lyra Jennings gather her things and come down to the office? She’s leaving for the day,” the office lady who reminds me of Paula Deen—Mama’s favorite chef—announces through the ancient intercom system.
At the sound of my name, my chin jerks upward from my pencil sketches to the standard black-and-white classroom clock mounted above the projection screen. The hands read 12:45 p.m., nearly three hours before the end of the school day, when my parents are supposed to pick me up as we head out to Dallas for the weekend to celebrate my eleventh birthday. Ooh, maybe getting out of school early was my surprise they mentioned!
I’ve been looking forward to this day since we came home from this same trip last year, and I know my parents planned something special for this year. Every birthday, instead of having one of those silly kids’ parties with pointy hats and piñatas, they take me to the Texas State Fair. There, we spend the weekend riding as many rides as possible, stuffing our mouths with sausage-on-a-stick and fried Twinkies, playing games until we win the biggest of the stuffed animals, and laughing until our faces hurt and happy tears stream down our cheeks. Hands down, it’s my favorite three days of the year, even better than Christmas. And I really, really like Christmas.
Excitement jets through me as I stand up from my desk and hurriedly cram my spiral notebook and textbook into my purple paisley backpack. If we make it there early, I’ll be able to go swimming at the fancy hotel’s indoor pool before dinner.
“Sure thing,” my teacher calls out in response. “She’ll be right down.”
Hoisting the strap of the bag up on my shoulder, I turn to leave the room and my gaze meets Ms. Sherman’s. Her warmth shines in her bright amber-colored eyes, highlighting the numbers 051123 that I see imprinted in her pupils. The same six white numbers I see every time we make eye contact. The numbers I’m not allowed to talk about. The ones everyone thinks are all a part of my healthy imagination.
But they’re wrong. They’re all wrong.
The numbers are real, and they never change or go away. I only wish I knew what they meant. Mama and Daddy—who, by the way, are the only two people I know that have the same numbers—call it my special superpower, but I know they just pretend to believe me. I see the looks they share when they think I’m not watching. They don’t want me to think about all those things the doctors say about me. I may only be ten years old, but I’m 100% sure I’m not crazy, nor do I lie for attention. I’m an only child, for Pete’s sake; my parents are overly interested in my life. Though I do appreciate their support, even if they don’t understand.
“Have a nice weekend, Lyra. Don’t forget we have a test over CHAPTERs six through eight on Monday. Make sure you’ve read all the material,” she reminds me.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be ready,” I reply modestly, not sharing with her or the rest of the class I’ve already read through CHAPTER thirteen in the text, including answering the study guide questions at the end of each section. I may be an overachiever, but I’m not a brown-noser.
Luckily, school just comes easy for me, and my parents get over-Jupiter’s-moons proud when I bring home straight A’s on my report card. It reassures them that I’m normal and well adjusted. At least that’s what I heard Mama whispering to Daddy on the phone one night when she thought I wasn’t listening.
I mouth a quick goodbye to my best friend, Beth, who I pass by as I scuttle toward the exit. With her last name being Blackmon and mine being Jennings, we rarely get to sit near each other, as most of our teachers put us in alphabetical order. Beth’s numbers are 022754, and like Ms. Sherman’s, they light up vibrantly when she looks up at me and mouths the words Have fun before I slip out the door.
I never want to break the rules or get in trouble, so I somehow fight the urge to sprint down the deserted hallway and force myself to walk as fast as my long, skinny legs will let me. The swishing sound from my denim shorts rubbing together fills my ears, creating a soundtrack for my excitement. My cheeks ache from smiling so big while I drop off my folders and books in my locker then make a beeline to the front of the school, where my parents are waiting for me. This is going to be the best of the best weekends ever, one that none of us will ever forget. I just know it.
Only, when I swing open the glass door to the main office, expecting to see my favorite two people in the world, I’m surprised to find my Aunt Kathy standing there, her face puffy and pink, the corners of her mouth pointing due south. Our eyes meet, and I can barely see her numbers—123148—because of how swollen the lids are around them.
The fluffy white cloud of elation I floated in on disappears instantly as a dark fog of dread takes its place. Engulfing me. Swallowing me whole. She doesn’t have to say a word—I already know. Not how or when or where it happened, but deep in my bones, I know.
I was right. This will definitely be a weekend I’ll never forget, only it will be for reasons I’ll never want to remember.
“I’m so sorry, Lyra baby girl,” she cries. “I’m so sorry. They’re… they’re gone.”
gone.
        Gone.
                   GONE.
The word bounces around between my ears, getting louder each time it echoes. The first time, it freezes my movements. The second steals all the air from my lungs. By the third time, I’m pretty sure I have no pulse. I want to go, too.
Go.
       Going.
                     GONE.
With my feet stuck to the floor and my body stiff as a statue, Aunt Kathy rushes over to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Pulling me up against her chest as uncontainable sobs shake her body, she breaks down in front of the receptionist and attendance clerk, neither of who bother to hide their open staring. Numb, I stand completely still while she wails for several minutes, and I never once make a single sound or try to break free from the death grip she has on me. My thoughts race so fast they’re standing still.
I’m just… here. And my parents just… aren’t. And they won’t ever be again.
They’re… gone.
Climbing into the passenger seat of Aunt Kathy’s fancy sports car—a car I usually beg to ride in because there’s no backseat—I fasten my safety belt and then close my eyes as I lean my head back on the black leather, warm from the hot southern Texas sun. Even though it’s mid-October, I’m still wearing shorts and sandals, and just last weekend I went swimming at Beth’s house. But as I sit here and wait for my aunt to start the car, my teeth chatter loudly and my entire body trembles uncontrollably. My heart is frozen solid, but I’ve yet to shed a tear.
The phone rings and I jump, automatically looking at the caller ID on the screen, thinking… hoping… praying it’s someone calling to let us know this has all been a big mistake, that my parents are really okay.
“Hey, Mom,” Aunt Kathy answers after just one ring. We still haven’t pulled out of the parking space. “Yeah, I have her now. She’s safe and sound.”
My heart plummets even lower into my stomach than it was before as she pauses to listen to Granny Gina on the other end. Granny Gina is my dad and Kathy’s mom who lives in New Orleans, where she moved about five years ago after my grandpa passed away from lung cancer. Since my mom’s parents both died before I was born, she’s the only living grandparent I have, and luckily for me, she’s a pretty awesome one. But today, nothing is awesome. Not even close.
“I don’t know. She hasn’t said a word. I’m sure she’s in shock.” My aunt talks about me like I’m not sitting right here, as I finally feel the car jerk back in reverse.
Another pause. The car lurches forward into drive then we bounce hard as Aunt Kathy flies over a speed bump. I think I’m going to throw up.
“Okay, I’ll take her home so she can pack a suitcase of whatever she wants to bring, and then we’ll go to my place until you get here. You should be in about 5:00?”
Pack a suitcase of what I want to bring where? Where am I going? Why is this happening to me? I’m a good kid. I make good grades and I’m nice to people, even those people who everyone else makes fun of, and I listen to my parents and my teachers. What did I do to deserve this? Why me?
“Yeah, Mom, I know,” Aunt Kathy hiccups. She’s crying hard again. “I’ll take good care of her, and we’ll see you later. I love you.”
I keep my eyes screwed shut as she disconnects the call, scared she’ll want to talk if I open them. I don’t want to talk to her or Granny Gina or anyone but my parents. I want my mom and dad!
Thankfully, Aunt Kathy doesn’t try to talk to me as we drive, but when I feel the car come to a stop and hear the engine turn off, she gently taps my arm. “Lyra, sweetheart, we’re at your house. We’re going to go inside, and I need you to pack up a suitcase or two of the clothes and things you want to take to New Orleans. Whatever you need.”
“New Orleans?” My lids snap open and I whip my chin in her direction. I don’t even recognize my harsh, scratchy voice. “I’m going to New Orleans?”
“Yeah”—she nods sadly as she swipes at the black mascara streaks on her face with her thumbs—“with Granny Gina. After we take care of, uh, of everything here, you’ll go live with her there.”
Scowling, I cross my arms over my chest and grunt. “I don’t want to leave Houston, or my friends, or my school. Why can’t I stay here with you?”
“You know I travel with my job, Lyra. Sometimes I’m gone a week or two at a time, and there won’t be anybody here to stay with you. Granny Gina’s house has an extra bedroom, and since she doesn’t work, she’ll be able to better give you everything you need.”
What I need and will be better for me is my mom and dad. And my perfect birthday weekend at the fair.
She reaches out to attempt to soothe me with her touch, but I wrench away, banging my elbow on the car door in the process. The whack is loud, and the place I hit immediately turns red, but my brain doesn’t register the pain. I feel nothing. I’m broken.
I glance over at my aunt, and the tears spilling down her cheeks make me feel bad for acting the way I just did to her. What happened to my parents isn’t her fault, but I’m angry and this is all moving too fast. How am I supposed to pack up what I need in a couple of bags? I want to stay in my room, in my house, living with my parents.
“I know this is all unfair, baby,” she says through her sniffles, “and I can’t even to begin to understand what you’re thinking or feeling. I mean, I’m freaking the hell out and I’m a grownup who’s supposed to know how to handle these kinds of situations. All we can do is cling to each other as family and try to get through this together. Between me and Granny, we’ll do the best we can for you, and right now, we think the best thing is if you get your things and go stay with her.”
“How did they die?” I blurt out, completely off topic from what she’s talking about. My mind can’t stay focused on any one thing, but this is the question that keeps popping up. “I need to know how it happened.”
Swallowing hard, Aunt Kathy inhales a shaky breath through her nose and blows it out through her mouth, visibly trying to collect herself before she answers me. “It was a car accident,” she whispers after forever, barely loud enough for me to hear. “I don’t know why they were together in your mom’s car this morning or where they were going, but an eighteen-wheeler lost control and hit them. They were already gone by the time the first responders arrived.”
I nod, still unable to cry. I hear the words she’s saying, but they aren’t really registering. They make sense, but I don’t understand. It’s as if I’ve been swallowed up by one of the black holes Daddy taught me about and the darkness is sucking away my ability to think, to feel. All I hear is the word “gone” still replaying over and over and over.
“Okay. I’ll get my stuff,” I say flatly, finally opening the door and stepping out of the car.
My movements are robotic, and I can barely even feel the key in my hand as I unlock the front door to my house. Stepping inside, I’m overwhelmed by a combination of the sweet smell of my mom’s favorite vanilla cookie candle and the sight of my dad’s fuzzy slippers waiting by the coatrack—the slippers he puts on the minute he walks in the door from work every night. When I realize he’ll never wear those slippers again, nor will my mom ever be able to forget if she blew out the candle when we’re about to pull out of the driveway, an acute pain shoots through my chest and I stumble over to the staircase, grabbing the banister to keep my balance.
“I’m right here, Lyra,” Aunt Kathy murmurs from behind me as she slips her arm around my waist. “Let’s just get your things and head over to my place. Later, once we’ve had some time to deal with everything, we can come back to go through the house and all the stuff… if you want.”
Another nod and I let her guide me up the stairs to my room. I want to scream at her that there will never be enough time to deal with losing my parents, that I’ll never be able to go through their things, but I keep my lips pressed together and do as I’m told.
“Where do you guys keep your suitcases?” she asks, glancing around my room as if she’s doing an inventory of what I have. “I’ll go grab a couple while you start pulling out what you want to take. If you forget something, it’s no big deal, because you and Granny are going to be staying at my place for the next few days. I can just bring you back to get it, or I can even ship it to Louisiana if you remember once you’re there.”
“They’re in the storage cabinets in the garage,” I answer while walking over to my desk, my eyes locked in on a framed photo of me and my parents that sits next to my laptop.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
The thud of her heels on the hardwood floor grows quiet as she makes her way back down to the first floor, and just as I grab the picture and plop down on the chair, I hear her open the door to the garage. A few much-needed minutes by myself.
I gaze down at the photograph of the three of us from a day at the beach, me sandwiched between their cheerful, carefree expressions, and the first tear finally escapes. Once the dam breaks, I can’t stop the flow, and as I trace my finger over the outline of each of my parents’ faces, I cry for everything I’ll never have again. A supernova of tears.
Faces I’ll never see smile again.
Voices I’ll never hear say my name again.
Arms I’ll never be hugged by again.
A never-ending galaxy of love that I’ll never feel again.
It’s all just… gone.
After several minutes of vision-blurring bawling, I set the picture frame back upright on my desk. A hot pink heart drawn on my calendar with the words Birthday Weekend Begins written over today’s box catches my attention. I then notice the printed numbers next to my bubbly handwriting that read 10-18-02.
Snatching the picture up again, I stare directly into first my dad’s eyes, and then my mom’s. The numbers I see when I look people directly in the eyes only happens when I’m face-to-face with someone, never in photographs or through a screen or mirror. But even though I can’t actually see the numbers right now in the picture of my parents’ pupils, their numbers are forever etched in my brain from looking at them every day of my life. I used to think the reason they had the same numbers meant they were true soul mates, like God made them to match perfectly together, but now….
My gaze flicks over to today’s date of 10-18-02, then back to my parents’ faces, where I envision their numbers—101802.
My plummeting heart collides with my lurching stomach in an explosion of realization.
It’s my Big Bang Moment.

 


About Erin Noelle USA Today Bestselling Author

 

Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two
young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading  that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current,Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.

Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.

 

 

Nailed It by Cindi Madsen…..Blog Tour Stop

Meet the Author:

Cindi Madsen is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.
Connect: Site | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

About the Book:

 

I’m Ivy Clarke. Bartender, best friend, and disbeliever in love.
And now I’m in over my head, trying to flip a house all by myself.
Thanks, HGTV.
I’m not too proud to admit I need some help. Too bad the only one who can help me is the same man I want to throw out this house’s second-story window.
Jackson Gamble and I can’t be in the same room together for more than a minute without devolving into a sparring match.
Except for that one time…
But enough about that. Jackson’s looking for forever, and I don’t believe in love, remember?
Get in. Renovate. Get out. Keep my heart firmly in tact.
Because it’s much easier to fix up a house than a broken heart.

Full of humor and dripping with delicious tension, Nailed It proves that every heart can be ready for a little rehabilitation, if only you’re willing to open it up.

Add to Goodreads

 

Excerpt:

Jackson sighed and rubbed a hand along his jaw as he took another glance at the mess that was the kitchen. Then he turned back to me. “There’s no reason for you to use up every penny you have, and you definitely have enough stubbornness to spare, but maybe hold it back for one little minute while I suggest something…”

I opened my mouth, and he arched an eyebrow, like he was challenging me to make it that one little minute. “Fine. You’ve got one minute.”

“I’m actually finishing up a project, and my crew can handle most of it. I don’t have another big one scheduled for a little over a month, and I was wondering what I was going to do with all my spare time. If you’re open to an arrangement, I could…help you out.”

Taking him up on the offer called to me, despite his obvious hesitance, but I was worried about attached-strings and crossed-lines. Then again, I was also worried about failing and messing up badly enough it ended up costing Dixie and me our life savings, which made me circle back around to wanting to say yes. “I’m not looking for a handout.”

“And I’m sure as hell not offering one. I’d expect to be paid for my time and services, but I’ll give you the family discount. I can promise you that I’ll do it for less than any other contractor in the area, just like I can assure you that you need one. Ivy, this is a huge job. This isn’t like those TV shows where they show you the before image, fail to show you how many people it takes to do the work, and then reveal the final shiny project. This house needs a lot of work.”

My cheeks flushed at the mention of the TV shows that’d instilled me with too much false confidence in my abilities. Add that to their sins of lying and brainwashing. I needed the team of people, and Jackson practically counted as a team himself. “I’ll admit it sounds like a good deal…”

“But?”

But you and me working together? Wouldn’t your family miss you if I killed you?”

“You’re forgetting something…” He took a few long strides toward me, and I nearly backed up like a frightened little rabbit. Probably because there was a gleam in his eye that did seem almost predatory.

Or maybe those fumes were getting to me again. I lifted my chin, working to find the feisty attitude that usually kept me safe. “What’s that?”

He braced a hand on the wall by the side of my head and leaned in, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Aunt Velma would avenge me.”

A laugh slipped out, and then I mocked fear. I even grabbed hold of his shirt. “Please, Jackson. Please don’t tell her I said that. I’ll do anything! Even…” I made a big show of gulping. “Work with you.”

“Without killing me?”

I acted like it was the hardest decision I’d ever made and let out a huge exhale. “Jeez, that’s asking a whole lot. I’m going to have to think about it.” I bit my lip. “And let’s say I was thinking about it. What kind of terms are we talking?”

Jackson glanced around, his gaze back to assessing. “I need to take a look at the rest of the house, and then we’ll discuss the nitty gritty details over dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, you know. Food that’s typically eaten around this time of day. Especially if someone worked a long, physically grueling day only to give in to his sister’s beck and call and come see what kind of mess her best friend had gotten herself into. You’re probably already full from all the guys’ souls you’ve been devouring, but I need to eat actual food.”

I rolled my eyes at the succubus slam and slipped out of the cozy little pocket his body had formed. I needed as much air as I could get, especially if I was going to suppress the temptation to strangle him. “Well, I certainly can’t subsist on the kind of vapid girls you go for—I’d starve.”

“Ooh, that was a pretty good insult before you were one of them, but now it’s a little self-deprecating for my taste. Sorta takes the fun out of my job.”

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought I’d crack a molar. Clearly our temporary truce had expired, our war back on. But he could go ahead and bring it, because it’d take a lot more than a few jabs to make me wave the white flag. “Fine. Let’s order dinner. Your treat since you’re applying for the job.”

“You’re shit at saying thank you, Ivy Clarke.”

Oh, I knew. I also knew us working together had disaster written all over it.

Watching him get hot and sweaty as he did all that manual labor? Fighting off sexual frustration as my ovaries did their best not to implode?

Arguments around every corner, ones we’d have while armed with tools like hammers and crowbars…?

Yep, it was going to be a disaster.

But I was smart enough to realize that at this point, it was also my only choice if I wanted to fulfill my promise to Dixie and to actually make a profit for my efforts. In a way, not letting Jackson help would be another way of letting my feelings about a guy get in the way of my dreams.

So disaster or not, here I come.

Giveaway:

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