CHAPTER REVEAL – HANDLE WITH CARE by Helena Hunting

Handle With Care, an all-new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming August 27th, and we have a sneak peek!

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HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.

Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman

SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.

Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.

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Excerpt from Chapter One

Chapter One

What Have I Gotten Myself into?

Wren

I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze himself into a suit two sizes too small. He’s intimidatingly broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazard man bun thing. His beard is a hipster’s wet dream. His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine. And yet, here I am, sidling up next to him.

He glances at me, eyes bleary and not really tracking. He quickly focuses on his half-empty glass again. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward his mouth, I’m guessing he’s pretty hammered. I order a sparkling water with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime.

What I could really use is a cup of lavender-mint tea and my bed, but instead, I’m sitting next to a drunk man in his thirties. My life is extra glamorous, obviously. And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope.

“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’s missing more than half its contents. It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago. Yes, I’ve been watching him the entire time, waiting for an opportunity to make my move. While he’s been sitting here, he’s turned down two women, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel.

“You could say that,” he slurs. He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits. I can still make out the vibrant blue hue despite them being nearly closed. They move over me, assessing. I’m wearing a conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees. Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady.

“That solving your problems?” I give him a wry grin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie.

His gaze swings slowly to the bottle. It gives me a chance to really look at him. Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway.

“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here.” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died.”

I put a hand on his forearm. It feels awkward, and creepy on my part since its half-genuine, half-contrived comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink. “I should be sorry too, but I think he was mostly an asshole, so the world might be better off without him.” He attempts to fill his glass again, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead. I rush to lift my purse and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess.

“I’m drunk,” he mumbles.

“Well, I’m thinking that might’ve been the plan, considering the way you’re sucking that bottle back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t ask for a straw in the first place. Might be a good idea to throw a spacer [CD3] in there if you want tomorrow morning to suck less.” I push my drink toward him, hoping he doesn’t send me packing like he did the other women who approached him earlier.

He narrows his eyes at my glass, suspicious, maybe. “What is that?”

“Cranberry and soda.”

“No booze?”

“No booze. Go ahead. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He picks up the glass and pauses when it’s an inch from his mouth. His eyes crinkle, telling me he’s smiling under that beard. “Does that mean Imma wake up with you beside me?”

I cock a brow. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Shit, sorry.” He chugs the contents of my glass. “I was joking. Besides, I’m so wasted, I can barely remember my name. Pretty sure I’d be useless in bed tonight. I should stop talkin’.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then motions to me. “I wouldn’t proposition you.”

I’m not sure how to respond. I go with semi-affronted, since it seems like somewhat of an insult. “Good to know.”

“Dammit. I mean, I think you might be hot. You look hot. I mean attractive. I think you’re pretty.” He tips his head to the side and blinks a few times. “You have nice eyes, all four of them are lovely.”

This time I laugh—for real—and point to the bottle. “I think you might want to tell your date you’re done for the night.”

He blows out a breath and nods. “You might be right.” He makes an attempt to stand, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, he stumbles into me and grabs my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa. Sorry. Yup, I’m definitely drunk.” His face is inches from mine, breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Beyond that, I get a whiff of fresh soap and a hint of aftershave. He lets go of my shoulders and takes an unsteady step back. “I don’t usually do this.” He motions sloppily to the bottle. “Mostly I’m a three drink max guy.”

“I think losing your father makes this condonable.” I slide off my stool. Despite being tall for a woman, and wearing heels, he still manages to be close to a head taller than me.

“Yeah, maybe, but I still think I might regret it tomorrow.” He’s incredibly unsteady, swaying while standing in place. I take the opportunity for what it is and thread my arm through his, leading him away from the bar. “Come on, let’s get you to the elevator before you pass out right here.”

He nods, then wobbles a bit, like moving his head has set him off balance. “That’s probably a good idea.”

He leans into me as we weave through the bar and stumbles on the two stairs leading to the foyer. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop him if he goes down, but I drape one of his huge arms over my shoulder anyway, and slip my own around his waist, guiding him in a mostly straight line to the elevators.

“Which floor are you on?” I ask.

“Penthouse.” He drops his arm from my shoulder and flings it out, pointing to the black doors at the end of the hall. “Jesus, I feel like I’m on a boat.”

“It’s probably all the alcohol sloshing around in your brain.” I take his elbow again, helping him stagger the last twenty feet to the dedicated penthouse elevator.

He stares at the keypad for a few seconds, brow pulling into a furrow. “I can’t remember the code. It’s thumbprint activated though too.” He stumbles forward and presses his forehead against the wall, then tries to line up his thumb with the sensor, but his aim is horrendous and he keeps missing.

I settle a hand on his very firm forearm. This man is built like a tank. Or a superhero. For a moment, I reconsider what I’m about to do, but he seems pretty harmless and ridiculously hammered, so he shouldn’t pose a threat. I’m also trained in self-defense, which would fall under the by any means necessary umbrella. “Can I help?”

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2ZBt0RL

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

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LIVE – THE LOCKER ROOM by Meghan Quinn

 

THE LOCKER ROOM (Getting Lucky #1) by Meghan Quinn
Release Date: June 20th
Genre: Contemporary Romance

 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44010609-the-locker-room

 

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AVAILABLE NOW!!!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Blurb:
Have you heard the rumor around campus about the locker room?

If you haven’t, let me enlighten you: Legend has it if you bring a girl into the sacred after-game domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. One rowdy and naked encounter against the lockers with the girl of your dreams will make her your wife.

Translation: baseball players are stupidly superstitious and believe the locker room has magical powers.

But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included.

So when the girl I’ve fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe it’s time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room.

The only question is, will she accept?

 

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Excerpt:
This map is useless.

Easy to read, my ass. I need a magnifying glass to make out any of the color-coded buildings on this thing and unfortunately, I left my magnifying glass in my other skirt. That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it.

Standing next to a wonky-looking tree, I try to act as casual as possible—hip popped out, interested glances, the usual—as I hide a school map beneath the pages of Pride and Prejudice , while off-handedly looking for the MacMillan building. But the wind—though subtle—isn’t making things easy.

Recently transferred from Cal State, Fullerton, I’m attempting to avoid making a fool of myself on the first day of fall classes at my new school, Brentwood University.

Unfortunately, I’m way out of my element.

For one, I know nothing about this school other than they have the best library sciences program in the country. Making the transfer a no-brainer for me the minute I realized I wanted to be a librarian. I dabbled in business at Cal State, but who was I kidding? I had no right trying to figure out micro-and macroeconomics.

A California girl through and through, Illinois is nothing like the palm trees and beaches I’ve grown up with. Don’t get me wrong, there are trees here, huge, plush, green trees everywhere, the kind of trees Bob Ross made dance on his canvas. But the smog . . . I have no idea where that is. Breathing fresh air almost feels wrong. And apparently pizza is a big deal here. I’ve heard at least three separate arguments since I’ve moved about which pizza in town is best. Let’s all be friends and be grateful there is good pizza here.

And even though this is a “small” school town outside Chicago, it’s larger than life with boisterous personalities and ivy-covered buildings that cause me to believe I’m walking on the hallowed grounds where the prosperous were educated.

Plus, I had to buy leggings for all my skirts, because the temperature doesn’t call for bare legs out here.

The wind picks up again, lifting my skirt and map at the same time. Not wanting to be known as the resident flasher on campus, I save the skirt—because even though I have leggings, I chose not to wear them today—and tamp it back down on my legs as the map lifts from my book, floats into the air, twirling and swirling only to smack a passing guy right in the face.

Whap .

“What the—?” He startles and I jump into action.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, scrambling to hold my skirt down while clutching my parted book at my chest.

The map is slowly peeled away and a pair of beautiful light blue eyes peek past the paper first, followed by the sharpest jawline I’ve ever seen, defined and tense. Light scruff matches his dirty-blond hair that is swept to the left and cut short on the sides. Dressed in a green Brentwood baseball sweatshirt and wearing a jaw-dropping smile, he chuckles and hands me the map while eyeing me up and down.

Why is he so familiar?

Those eyes.

“Not a problem, but you could have asked for help if you were lost. Slapping me with a map is an aggressive tactic, effective, but aggressive.”

That voice, that smirk. I know it from somewhere.

Feeling a light blush creep up my cheeks, I say, “Not used to the wind.”

He nods and thumbs behind him. “Lake Michigan. It’s a bitch in the winter.” He studies me for a second and then nods at my map. “Where you headed? I can help.” There is the smallest southern drawl in his voice, nothing strong, but enough to tell me he’s not from Illinois.

I know that voice. I remember specifically thinking it was hot.

Tamping down my map and folding it in my book that I snap shut quickly, I say, “I promised I’d figure this all out on my own, but looks like I might need a little help after all.”

“Don’t blame yourself; this campus is a maze with no rhyme or reason. I was lost my entire first semester. Can’t tell you how many times I was late to class.”

“That’s reassuring.”

He tilts his head to the side and gives me a small once-over. “I know you.” I don’t say anything and just as his eyes land on my chest, a smile creeps over his face, a light bulb lighting in his head. “You’re the girl who helped me find my room on Saturday.”

Oh.

Shit.

It’s the yellow-door baseball guy.

He leans forward, hands stuffed in his pockets and says, “I never forget a good pair of tits.”

As if I wasn’t blushing enough already.

 

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About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

 

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Connect with Meghan:
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BLOG TOUR – JERSEY SIX by Jewel E. Ann

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“Jewel E. Ann has once again crafted a flawless story that is utterly unique and unforgettable. Hands down my favorite book of 2019!”

— Aly Martinez, USA Today bestselling author

Jersey Six, an all-new “intriguing, gut wrenching and raw” romantic suspense from Jewel E. Ann, is available now!

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How far would you go for revenge?

A hit-and-run accident leaves Jersey Six orphaned and homeless on the streets of Newark, shattering her dreams of school dances, pink nail polish, and a diploma.

Eight years later, a burn victim with amnesia wanders into Jersey’s barely-existent life. She resists his efforts to form a friendship until he reveals knowledge of the person responsible for derailing her future. Through their unusual friendship, she discovers a way to avenge the deaths of her foster parents.

All she has to do is destroy the world’s biggest rock star.

In the ultimate game of sex, lies, and manipulation, can Jersey discover the truth? Or will she be blinded by attraction, deceived by love, and destroyed by her past?

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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WRAPPED UP IN READING’s REVIEW OF JERSEY SIX

Excerpt:

“We ate at the hotel.” Her lips twisted to the side. “Mind if I stick some stuff in my bag for later?”

A tiny wrinkle formed between Ian’s eyes, just below the long sweep of his black bangs. “There will be lots of food available later too. But…” he shrugged, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees “…take whatever you want.”

Jersey glanced over her shoulder at the food and the three other men in the room. She decided to wait a little while before shoving as much as possible into her bag like a free-for-all. “Thanks.” Jersey returned her attention to Ian. “So … you’re a singer. Like … are you a big deal?”

Every word she spoke seemed to feed his level of happiness. “Well …” He rubbed his chin, twisting his lips. “We play music. People like to listen to our music. But no … it’s not a big deal. We’re not saving lives or anything like that.”

She eyed him with suspicion for a few seconds. That smile of his didn’t feel worthy of complete trust. “Um … what exactly do you need me to do? What’s my job? They already took Chris. Will that big, bearded guy come for me too?” Jersey couldn’t remember his name.

“No.” Ian stood, pushing his elbows out from his shoulders, twisting side to side. “Tonight you are just going to watch the concert from backstage. Tomorrow night you’ll sell merchandise.”

“Drugs. You mean drugs, don’t you?”

Ian paused his stretching, letting his arms fall limp to his sides. “Merchandise—T-shirts, posters, keychains, phone cases, hats, guitar pics …”

“To who?”

“Fans.” Ian grinned. “Okay. I might have understated all of this to you … can you name a famous singer? Old or new. Doesn’t matter. Just a famous singer.”

“I had a foster parent who used to listen to Josh Groban.” Jersey gnashed her teeth, still feeling so much anger. Dena wasn’t just a foster parent; she was Jersey’s friend.

“Okay. Well, Josh has sold millions of records, and he’s a huge star in his genre of music. Thousands of people pack venues all over the world to see him sing live in concert. And they sell merchandise of his at those concerts.”

Jersey gazed unblinkingly at Ian as he scratched his jaw.

“Well, I sing a different genre of music, but I, too, travel the world, singing to sold-out concert venues, andI have people who sell my merchandise at these concerts.”

Jersey dropped her bag to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. “Listen, Coop. Stop talking down to me. I’m not an idiot. I know what a concert is. But earlier today you didn’t say what you did or what the job was you were offering. You bought a homeless person a hot dog and offered her a job. Of course, I’m going to think something sketchy might be involved.”

Tipping her chin up, she held her breath to puff out her chest, pretending the recent revelation of Ian Cooper being a famous singer didn’t faze her one bit. Inside, Jersey’s heart hammered into her ribcage, and her mind reeled trying to figure out the day’s events.

“Coop?” His lips twitched into a tiny grin.

“It’s short for Cooper.”

“Clearly.” Ian chuckled. “But my name is Ian. Everyone calls me Ian.”

“I busted the nose and jaw of a kid named Ian. He tried to stick his cock in my ass. I’ll call you Tom, Dick, or Harry, but I’m not calling you Ian because that makes me want to physically harm you.”

Ian’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as his head whipped back a few inches. “Coop it is.”

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Enter Jewel’s giveaway for a signed paperback and swag!

https://www.jeweleann.com/jersey-six-giveaway

About Jewel

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

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BLOG TOUR – WRITTEN WITH YOU (The Regret Duet, #2) by Aly Martinez

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“Aly Martinez is one of the best in the business. You have to read her books.” –Meghan March, New York Times Bestselling Author

Written With You, the emotional and highly anticipated conclusion to The Regret Duet from USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez, is available now!

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When I was fifteen, a single bullet changed my life. I spent the next decade trying to outrun the devastation of my past, building an empire that would shield me from whatever life could throw at me.

But all the money in the world couldn’t help me when I found a screaming newborn abandoned on my doorstep.

I’d never wanted to be a father. Passing the sludge that ran through my veins down to an innocent child seemed like a tragedy. But there she was—pink cheeks, red hair, and mine.

Somehow, against all logic, that little girl became the best thing that ever happened to me. It was impossible to stay lost in the past when I was the only one who could protect her future.

Which is exactly why, when her mother came back four years later, I was ready for battle.

If only I could stop myself from falling in love with her during the war.

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Start the duet today with Written With Regret

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WRAPPED UP IN READING’s REVIEW OF WRITTEN WITH YOU

Every little girl dreams of the fairytale. The one where the white knight rushes in to save her from the clutches of evil. They fall in love, have babies, and live happily ever after.

By that definition, my life should have been a fairytale too.

When I was eight years old, Caven Hunt saved me from the worst kind of evil to walk the Earth. It didn’t matter that I was a kid. I fell in love with him all the same.

But that was where my fairytale ended.

Years later, a one-night stand during the darkest time imaginable gave us a little girl. It was nothing compared to the pitch black that consumed me when I was forced to leave her with Caven for good.

At the end of every fairytale, the happily-ever-after is the one thing that remains consistent. It wasn’t going to be mine, but there hadn’t been a night that passed where I hadn’t prayed that it would be hers.

I owed Caven my life.

However, I owed that innocent child more.

And that included ripping the heart from my chest and facing her father again.

About Aly

Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her husband and four young children.

Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and olives. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.

She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.

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Connect with Aly

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

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LIVE – RAPHAEL (Deadly Virtues, #1) by Tillie Cole

 

 

 

 

They are the Fallen. A brotherhood of murderers whose nature compels them to kill. But guided by their leader, Gabriel, the Fallen have learned to use their urges to rid the world of those it is better off without.

For Raphael, sex and death are intertwined. Where there is one, there must be the other. He is a lust killer, luring his victims with the face of an angel and a body built for sin.

And Raphael lives to sin.

His newest mission takes him into the sadistic underworld of Boston’s secret sex clubs, and puts him face to face with his greatest fantasy made flesh.

Maria is everything he’s ever dreamed of, the kill he’s always longed for. She’s not his target. And he knows he must resist. But the temptation is too strong…

Yet Raphael is not the only one with a mission. Maria is not quite what she seems. And as her secrets and Raphael’s unravel, Maria begins to question everything she thought she knew—about evil, about the place she calls home, and about the beautiful sinner she was sent to destroy.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains sexual situations, violence, sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and topics some may find triggering. Recommended for age 18 years and up.

 

 


The Fallen: Genesis a prequel novella in The Deadly Virtues Series and MUST be read before RAPHAEL (DV: book one).

 

 

 

 

“Are you ready, child?”

Maria nodded at Father Quinn, trying not to fall into the black well of despair. She had crawled out of the abyss once. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to do so again.

He checked his watch. “It’s past midnight. The club will be brimming with carnal sinners. Do you have your cards?” Maria checked in her purse for the ID card the priests had supplied her with and the card that allowed her into the club. Father Murray told her no questions would be asked of her—it was club policy. “Keep that purse with you at all times. And press that button when you see him, or if you feel you are in danger.” Maria nodded again. Her voice was silent as she mentally prepared for what was about to happen.

Maria made for the door, but Father Quinn stopped her with his hand on her arm. She spun around, and Father Quinn pushed a rosary into her hand. Maria had left hers at the convent for safekeeping. She missed the beads as they slipped through her hands in prayer. “Keep this with you, Maria. Do not wear it around your neck or have it where anyone will see. But keep it with you for courage. To know the Lord and Mother Mary are with you.” As soon as the rosary was dropped into her palm, peace filled her. She looked at the new rosary in her hand and studied the red beads and ornate silver cross, Jesus hanging on the crucifix, redeeming mankind’s sins. On closer inspection, Maria noticed a miniscule “B” carved into Jesus’s chest. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “But what does the ‘B’ stand for?”

Father Quinn’s eyes flashed with something she couldn’t understand. But he quickly recovered enough to say, “I was told it was originally to represent the Boston archdiocese.” Maria nodded, although she was surprised she had never seen such a design before. Father Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder. Maria froze. She wasn’t comfortable being touched. Especially by a man. Father Quinn leaned in close. “But I like to think it stands for ‘Baptist.’ As in John the Baptist. The man whose sacrifice paved the way for Jesus to save all mankind.”

Maria let those words wash over her. “I like that too,” she replied and kept the rosary in her hand. She turned to the door and, without looking back, stepped out into the hallway and began her mission.

In the privacy of the elevator that would take her to the hotel’s foyer, Maria tucked the rosary into her left bra strap. If she couldn’t wear it publicly, she would wear it as close to her heart as she could manage.

Her legs were jelly as she crossed the marble floor of the lobby and walked on unsteady feet out into the frigid Boston winter. The club was only a few yards away. Keeping her head held high, she played her part as best she could. Feigning confidence had been the greatest challenge so far. Maria was used to keeping her eyes to the ground, hands clasped in constant prayer. Her hands were not linked, but she could still find peace in her faith. Hail Mary, full of grace, Maria prayed silently in her mind as she approached the liquor store. She walked through the automatic doors and headed to the back room, praying she had the entrance right. A steep staircase awaited her on the other side. A large man stood at the bottom of it. Maria handed him her cards as he looked her up and down with a salacious smirk on his face. Handing back the cards, he opened the gate that allowed her to pass upstairs.

Maria heard the music from inside pulsing against the walls. She clutched her purse tightly. Maria had never been to a club before. Before she was taken by William Bridge she had been too young. When she was freed, she pledged herself to the church. Maria was sheltered in a way most twenty-one-year-olds were not. Normally, she was thankful. Right now, she wished she had some prior knowledge of what she was walking into.

Ignoring her shaking hand, Maria opened the door to the club and almost stumbled at the sight that greeted her. She froze on seeing a woman tied to a wooden stake in the center of the room, bound by leather straps and metal chains. She was naked but for a strip of black material in her mouth . . . and there was a man, dressed in a three-piece suit, flogging her with a thin leather strap. Even over the blasting music, Maria heard the strap lashing, marring the woman’s skin. There was even blood. But what disturbed Maria more was the look of ecstasy on her face.

Maria could barely breathe. There wasn’t a part of her that was functioning as it should. Her breathing and heartbeat were too quick. Her eyes were too wide and her mouth was dry in shock.

What was this place? Maria wanted to run.

 

 

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

 

Author Links

 

 

 

REVIEW BLAST – LETTERS TO MOLLY (Maysen Jar Book 2) by Devney Perry

Molly Alcott didn’t expect
to open her mailbox one summer morning and find an old letter stuffed between
bills and a supermarket flyer. Penned in familiar handwriting, dated over
fifteen years ago, the letter was written to Molly after her first date with the
man she’ll never forget.


Week after week, new letters appear. Each marks an event in
the history of their epic love affair. Each heals a wound. Each holds the
confession of the man who still owns Molly’s heart.


The letters are full of promise, hope and love, but truth be
told, Molly wishes she could unread them all.


Because the man who wrote these letters is not the one
sending them.
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

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

LIVE – LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON by Karen Hawkins

 

Book details

LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON

A Dove Pond eNovella

By Karen Hawkins

On sale June 17, 2019

eBook – Price: $1.99 – ISBN: 9781982105587

Book description

Young widow Sofia Rodriquez has just accepted the position of greenhouse manager for Ava Dove’s booming herbal tea business. Sofia is delighted to have found a job that will make use of her gardening skills and allow her to spend time with her son, Noah, who has been diagnosed with Asperger’s. Adding to her joy is the charming farmhouse she’s renting on the edge of Dove Pond.

The only cloud on Sofia’s horizon is her next door neighbor, Jake, whose yard is a thorny jungle worthy of Sleeping Beauty. Soon enough, Sofia discovers that Jake himself is just as thorny and unpleasant as his yard.

After his fiancé left him, work-from-home IT whiz and game developer Jake Klaine has gone from Prince Charming to complete hermit. But Jake isn’t really alone; he’s living with a ghost: a (formerly) hairy man named Doyle who’s a fan of bad puns and who refuses to leave Jake’s bathtub. This is nothing new for Jake, as he’s been talking to ghosts since he was a boy. He finds real people harder to deal with, like the kid next door who won’t stop bugging him about the new game he’s developing.

Sofia and Jake know all too well that life isn’t a game. They’ve both lost the person they loved most. But under the watchful eye of the ghostly Doyle and Sofia’s new friend Ava, who has abilities of her own, Jake and Sofia decide to take a chance and let in an outsider. Soon they discover that, with a little magic, even the thorniest walls are no match for the innocent trust of a lonely child and the fierce determination of a woman wielding a razor-sharp pruner and a heart big enough to make even the most stubborn flower bloom.

 

 

EXCERPT

 

Sofia had never met anyone like her new boss, Ava Dove. Ava’s herbal tea business might be growing at an astounding rate but it was Ava’s knowledge of plants that intrigued Sofia. Ava spoke of the plants as if they were people, saying things like “Mint loves sunshine and Bach.” And “Rosemary may seem like a stiff, unyielding sort of plant, but she has a big heart.” If someone had heard Sofia saying anything like that, they would have called her crazy, but for some reason, when Ava said it, it made perfect sense.

And no one could say Ava didn’t know her plants. The greenhouses were filled with fat, happy, leafy plants. And when she walked down the aisles, it seemed as if the plants reached for her, wanting her attention.

It was weird, and yet so satisfyingly wonderful that Sofia found herself just accepting the fact that Ava loved her plants and they loved her back. If only all facets of life were that perfect and simple. In the meantime, Sofia was happy to learn what she could from her new boss and her wonderful greenhouses. The fresh scents made Sofia want to fill her lungs over and over, and the calmness of the space gave her the peace she’d been searching for since The Very Bad Day, while the flexible hours let her spend time with her son, Noah, whenever she wanted. This really is the perfect job.

When her cousin Juana had first suggested Sofia and Noah move from hot and crowded Orlando to quiet and peaceful Dove Pond, Sofia had been hesitant. At the time, she’d been in the middle of a messy, unresolved, painful divorce, and moving would have only complicated things. But Juana had persisted, which wasn’t surprising. Juana’s husband, Tony, said she didn’t know the word no, didn’t want to, and refused to hear it. So when Juana had repeatedly explained why Dove Pond was so perfect for Sofia, how the special education program at the elementary school Noah would be attending was amazing, the community welcoming and friendly, and the town itself “magical,” Sofia had found herself listening. And when the time had come, Sofia hadn’t thought twice—she’d packed up her and Noah’s things and moved here.

Of course she didn’t believe in magic, but she had to admit that so far, despite its slightly worn-out air, Dove Pond was casting a spell over her. She’d desperately needed peace and a place to get away, where she and Noah could heal and start fresh, and Dove Pond had delivered that and more. In fact, the second she’d put her foot outside her car and onto the pavement of Dove Pond’s historic downtown area, she’d felt as if she’d come home.

At first glance, the little town had seemed like every other small town in North Carolina, with two-story redbrick buildings lining an awning-festooned main street, charming tree-lined avenues with an impressive collection of large Queen Anne–style houses, and people more interested in the corn crop than in the sorry state of affairs in DC. But Dove Pond held surprises around every corner—treasures, really—each one a blessing for Sofia and Noah. And the first treasure had been Ava.

About the author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Karen Hawkins writes novels that have been praised as touching, witty, charming, and heartwarming. A native Southerner who grew up in the mountains of East Tennessee where storytelling is a way of life, Karen recently moved to frosty New England with her beloved husband and multiple foster dogs. The Dove Pond series is a nod to the thousands of books that opened doors for her to more adventures, places, and discoveries than she ever imagined possible. To find out more about Karen, check in with her at Facebook.com/KarenHawkinsWriter, @KarenHawkinsAuthor on Instagram, and at her website, KarenHawkins.com.

BLOG TOUR – THE REVENGE PLAN by Linda Kage

Title: The Revenge Plan
Author: Linda Kage
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance
Release Date: April 29, 2019
After I caught my boyfriend cheating, I tried to be mature about it with an amicable split. But he took his retaliation too far, and I have officially had enough. No more Miss Nice Haven.
No one is allowed to lie to me, betray, embarrass, and devastate me, fill me with self-doubt, or put my future at risk, and expect to get away with it. He is going to feel my wrath.
Enter Wick Webster, his archenemy.
Nothing would provoke my ex more than to see me moving on with the one guy he hates most, so that’s exactly what I plan to do.
The only hitch in my brilliant scheme is Wick himself. He’s just gotta be all love-not-war and peace-is-the-only-way. He’s more concerned about helping me heal than seeking my sweet revenge.
And what the hell is it about his soothihg presence and yummy looks that calls to me until I forget how much pain I’m in? He’s making it awfully hard to use and abuse him for my malicious means. The damn guy is making me fall for him.
“You guys are totally off your rockers. I am not having sex with anyone just to get back at Topher. To me, that’d be like drinking poison and expecting him to die from it.”
Bentley gasped, affronted, and pressed a hand to her chest. “Sex isn’t poison.”
I rolled my eyes because SHE hadn’t been cheated on recently.
“Seriously,” Teagan went on. “Sex can be good for you. It’s actually the number one reliever in vaginal atrophy.”
I blinked. “In…what?”
“Inflammation, dryness, and thinning of the vaginal walls.”
“Huh?” I furrowed my brow, wondering how I’d landed myself in a sex-education class.
“You must massage the tissue down there, exercise it regularly and get the blood flowing so it remains healthy and elastic. Otherwise, it’s going to dry out like an unused rubber band and crumble apart.” She balled her hand into a fist as if wadding up something. “Just a brittle piece of hopelessness.”
Ouch.
Why did I suddenly want to wince and protectively cover my hoo-ha with both of my hands? Seriously, I’d just found an old rubber band last week. It had dried up and fallen to pieces as soon as I had picked it up.
Lord, I didn’t want my vagina to crumble apart like that.
But then Bella—bless her soul—rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh, whatever. She doesn’t need a man to get the blood flowing down there. My faithful BOB has kept me more satisfied and elasticized than any human douche ever could.”
Teagan merely shrugged. “It’s more fun with a real penis though. Just saying.”
“Wow,” Lucy murmured, shaking her head. “JB must have some kind of magical cock to make you talk this way because, before him, you were all like, eww, men are so overrated. Sex is gross. Keep it away from me.”
Lifting her chin, Teagan sniffed proudly and rubbed her swollen belly. “He does. It even sparkles in the sunlight.”
“Ack,” I cried, covering my ears with my hands. “It is so impossible to think of JB that way. He’s like a cousin to me, T.”
“You know, you don’t actually have to have sex with anyone,” Bentley spoke up, making me glance at her in confusion. “You just have to make Topher believe you did.”

 

“Or…” Bella countered. “As much of a showboat as Topher is, the best way to get back at him would be to just move on and be happy. I have a feeling him seeing you moving on without him might drive him crazier than anything.”
Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.
 
Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children’s literature from The Institute of Children’s Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.
 
Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.
 
Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor…or Hulk (can’t decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny.
Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.

HOSTED BY:

CHAPTER REVEAL – MAKING UP (Shacking Up, #4) by Helena Hunting

Making Up, an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy standalone from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming July 16th and we have a sneak peek!

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Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

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Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GEt63s

AppleBooks: Coming Soon!

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/MakingUp

Nook: http://bit.ly/2IPLTvV

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2ZIrFcH

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2GFTD0b

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/MakingUpHH

Excerpt from Chapter One

Sexy Suit

Cosy

Working in an adult toy store is the opposite of glamorous. Sure, I get a fifty-percent discount, which is a real perk, but it doesn’t offset some of the weirdness I have to deal with. Such as Eugene, one of the locals who frequents the shop on a regular basis. He came in this morning and handled all the display toys. He’s mostly harmless, but the silicone fondling is pretty high on the creepy factor. Eventually I told him I had to close up for a few minutes so I could grab lunch. The deli across the street has the best daily specials.

While I wait for my chicken shawarma, I make a mental list of all the things I need to do this afternoon: check the magazines to make sure the pages aren’t stuck together, restock the flavored lube, and wipe down everything Eugene molested with toy cleaner. Once I’ve tackled those less-than-fun chores, I can work on my assignment for my hospitality class, provided I don’t have real customers.

I glance out the window, checking to make sure Eugene isn’t loitering around in front of the store, waiting to be let back in. Sometimes he’ll stop by more than once during my shift. He’s not there—thank God—but there’s a black sports car parked in the lot. It looks nice and possibly expensive, which might mean an actual customer who will spend money.

Loki, the cashier at the deli, hands me my drinks and shawarma.

“Thanks! Have a great day!”

“You too,” Loki says to my chest.

As I leave the store, I see a man in a suit reading the sign I taped to the door. I don’t want to miss a potential customer, so I take a deep breath and mentally shift gears, putting on my best sales-person mask. I have to pretend to be a completely different person when I deal with customers, so I can get through what would otherwise be a fairly embarrassing event. Discussing the ins and outs of sex toys with strangers is not something I particularly enjoy, but it’s a paycheck, so I’ve learned to roll with it.

My root beer foams and drips down the straw while my coffee sloshes onto my hand—the lids never fit right—and my chicken shawarma dangles perilously between my pinkie and ring finger as I cross the street.

The suit doesn’t look creepy like Eugene, but then, suits can be deceiving. Half the time they think they can proposition me like a sex worker. Or they pretend the weird stuff they’re buying is a gift and not for them. Pfft. I know better.

Suit turns and heads for his car, so I call out, “Hey! You in the suit, hold on!”

His shoulders hunch, as if he’s trying to be smaller, which is physically impossible. Based on the size of him, he probably played college football. Or he has Marvel comic hero blood relatives. Either way, he’s a big dude.

He stops walking, though, which is good. I could use some sales today. The commission boost is always a plus to the shitty minimum wage. Rent is due next week, and judging by his car, he has money to burn.

My heels are skyscrapers, and everything I’m wearing is either too short or too tight to facilitate running—the Sex Toy Warehouse uniform is supposed to be sexy, aka revealing—so I awkwardly jog the rest of the way while trying to get the key to the shop out of my pocket and not drop my shawarma. The manager gave me my own set since I frequently open the store.

“Sorry to keep you waiting; plastic dicks don’t quite cut it for lunch.” Inwardly I cringe, because seriously, why did I say that?

“I would imagine they’re not all that satisfying,” he replies in a deep voice that would probably sound good whispering naughty things in my ear.

I’m not sure if he meant that suggestively or not. Regardless, I walked right into that one.

I finally look up. Dear sweet Jesus on a cloud of marshmallows, this is my lucky day. The suit is gorgeous. Like the kind of hotness that sucks the breath right out of your lungs and sends all the blood in your body rushing between your legs. It’s a good thing clits don’t react like penises, otherwise mine would be hanging out of the bottom of my shorts with excitement. I’m thankful my physical reaction is limited to damp underwear and tingles.

His dark hair is straight and cut short, parted at the side and neatly styled. He’s a cross between a mobster, and a fifties movie star. Capone and Ward Cleaver rolled together and dipped in lust. His nose is straight, lips are full, and he’s got a chin that looks like it could cut glass. His features are strong, but he somehow manages to be boyish even though everything about him screams pure, undiluted masculinity.

His tongue drags across his pillowy bottom lip and his throat bobs. I lift my gaze and meet his eyes. They’re a strange color. Not brown, not green, but some kind of honey-lemon color, ringed in emerald. Like a cat maybe.

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2KO3Mf6

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5
Facebook Fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/385795934890523/
Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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LIVE – JERSEY SIX by Jewel E. Ann

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“Jewel E. Ann has once again crafted a flawless story that is utterly unique and unforgettable. Hands down my favorite book of 2019!”

— Aly Martinez, USA Today bestselling author

Jersey Six, an all-new “intriguing, gut wrenching and raw” romantic suspense from Jewel E. Ann, is available now!

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How far would you go for revenge?

A hit-and-run accident leaves Jersey Six orphaned and homeless on the streets of Newark, shattering her dreams of school dances, pink nail polish, and a diploma.

Eight years later, a burn victim with amnesia wanders into Jersey’s barely-existent life. She resists his efforts to form a friendship until he reveals knowledge of the person responsible for derailing her future. Through their unusual friendship, she discovers a way to avenge the deaths of her foster parents.

All she has to do is destroy the world’s biggest rock star.

In the ultimate game of sex, lies, and manipulation, can Jersey discover the truth? Or will she be blinded by attraction, deceived by love, and destroyed by her past?

Jersey Six - AN.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2EXNz3c

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/JerseySix

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2UTqCIj

 

WRAPPED UP IN READING’s REVIEW OF JERSEY SIX

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Enter Jewel’s giveaway for a signed paperback and swag!

https://www.jeweleann.com/jersey-six-giveaway

About Jewel

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

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Connect with Jewel

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JewelE_Ann

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjeweleann/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jewel-e-ann

Stay up to date with Jewel by joining her mailing list:

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http://www.jeweleann.com