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The Locker Room by Meghan Quinn

Release Date: June 20th

Genre: Contemporary Romance

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

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?

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2WNi2H5

My Review

I have to be honest…the idea that a baseball locker room is the ‘holy grail’ and the ‘mecca of all orgasms’ actually makes me cringe, given the amount of sweat, testosterone, and body odor that infiltrates that space on a daily basis, especially given the interesting and sometimes repulsive superstitions that athletes have, but I say that I like the legend behind it when it comes to couples lasting and the idea that a baseball player doesn’t give  just any cleat chaser or girlfriend the golden ticket to forever; it’s something that’s earned and it’s something that each player thinks through before he takes that step with the girl he’s with, which is  definitely something I can get behind.

Knox Gentry is quite the contradictory hero; he definitely has the cocky jock persona, but that’s only at surface-level, and because Emory challenges him to be more than a player – in ever sense of the word – readers are able to see exactly who Knox is behind the arrogant ass he seems to be. His friendship/relationship with Emory is important to him; she makes him feel things he’s never felt before and he wants to make her a priority in his life, even if his focus should be on baseball and getting drafted to the big leagues.

Emory Ealson already lost herself in one guy who ended up breaking her heart, so I can’t say that I blame her for not wanting to give into her lust for Knox and immediately start a relationship with him. It’s clear that what her ex put her through broke her in ways she can’t even fully articulate, but while she’s hesitant when it comes to her feelings for Knox, she also wears her heart on her sleeve, which makes her irrational at times despite how intelligent and driven she is.

Knox and Emory’s physical relationship may be a slow burn, but it’s clear that their connection matters to them, even if it’s simply as friends. As much as Emory believes she’s a challenge for Knox and nothing more, he proves that despite his need to focus on his obtaining his dream of the pros, they become priorities in each other’s lives, a necessity to their happiness, until everything becomes too overwhelming and difficult.

Even days after I finished Knox & Emory’s story, I’m still not sure how I feel about it, and it’s not because I didn’t like it; in fact, I loved being witness to just how easily Knox and Emory clicked from the beginning, and the fact that they gave each other shit and had such great banter and snarky remarks to one another illustrated that these two had something special from the start. What I struggled with was the decision that Emory made, on her own, and the fact that she refused to see things from Knox’s perspective, which categorically redefined their relationship and their lives for almost a decade.

4 Poison Apples

 

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.

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.

Connect with Meghan

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7360513.Meghan_Quinn

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

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Website: http://authormeghanquinn.com

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/meghan-quinn

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2LitE4x

New York Times bestselling author Samantha Towle’s newest book in the hugely popular STORM SERIES is coming September 6^th, 2019!

Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs

Photograph: Wander Aguiar Photography

Model: Colton B.

Blurb 

The son of an icon.

He was a legend. Rock royalty.

A man I never met.

But I’m measured against him in every aspect of my life.

The only time I feel like me … the real me … is when I’m onstage with my band. But the more we grow in popularity, the more people compare me to him.

I’m not him. And I never will be. If only everyone could figure that out for themselves.

I need a break from it all.

Then, a confrontation has me jumping in my car, putting LA in my rearview mirror. And a stupid mistake ends up with my car on the side of the road. And straight into the path of a girl who is the exact opposite of everyone else in my life.

She’s like everything I used to know.

And she has no clue who I am.

Even if she did, I don’t think she’d care.

She thinks I’m cavalier.

I think she’s intriguing. And hot. Let’s not forget hot.

I’m stuck in this town overnight while my car is being fixed. But I’m thinking I’m gonna stick around a bit longer.

I’m Storm Slater, lead guitarist in Slater Raze and the only child of the late, great Jonny Creed. But, here, right now … I’m nobody. Just a regular guy.

I’m liking it a whole lot.

And I’m liking her even more.

There will be no pre-order, but sign up to receive an alert on release day: https://bit.ly/2WTt1nc

Add to your Goodreads TBR: https://bit.ly/2XU12Aw

About the Author

SAMANTHA TOWLE is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She began her first novel in 2008 while on maternity leave. She completed the manuscript five months later and hasn’t stopped writing since.

She is the author of contemporary romances, The Storm Series and The Revved Series, and stand-alones, Trouble, When I Was Yours, The Ending I Want, Unsuitable, Wardrobe Malfunction, Breaking Hollywood, Under Her, Ruin and Sacking the Quarterback, which was written with James Patterson. She has also written paranormal romances, The Bringer and The Alexandra Jones Series. All of her books are penned to the tunes of The Killers, Kings of Leon, Adele, The Doors, Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, Lana Del Rey, and more of her favorite musicians.

A native of Hull and a graduate of Salford University, she lives with her husband, Craig, in East Yorkshire with their son and daughter.

Excerpt

Meet the Author

Kelly Elliott is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling contemporary romance author. Since finishing her bestselling Wanted series, Kelly continues to spread her wings while remaining true to her roots and giving readers stories rich with hot protective men, strong women and beautiful surroundings.

Her bestselling works include, Wanted, Broken, The Playbook, and Lost Love, to name a few.

Kelly lives in central Texas with her husband, daughter, two pups, four cats, and endless wildlife creatures. When she’s not writing, Kelly enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

To find out more about Kelly and her books, you can find her through her website.

http://www.kellyelliottauthor.com

Social Media Links 

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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!

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.

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2VGJ83p

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2VXTyvK

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

Nook: http://bit.ly/2FmIv9x

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2M09aKC

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2RRkyh8

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

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.

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting

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Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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SIN SHOT (Vegas Crush #2) by Raine Miller Writing As Brit DeMille

Release Date: June 13th

Cover Designer: Designs by Dana

Cover Image: Lindee Robinson Photography

Blurb

“There’s a lot more to me than what I’ve let on in the public eye.”
—Georg Kolochev, VEGAS CRUSH

No, I don’t drink vodka straight from the bottle. I don’t pour it over my breakfast cereal either. I am not in need of an intervention…unless it involves me and a certain blonde bombshell alone in a room with a locking door.

I’ve done my fair share of partying, I’ll admit. And yes. I’ve built up something of a reputation with the ladies when not on the ice. That’s on me for being careless with my posts on social. And I do know what’s most important in my life.

Two things.

Hockey and Pamela Jenson. My favorite physical therapist needs me so much more than she knows.

Because I am the guy delivering her SIN SHOT. Yeah, you heard me, I’m her first.

Sinning with Pam has never felt so good…

*SIN SHOT is book two in the VEGAS CRUSH hockey series. Standalone, sports romance.

AVAILABLE NOW!!
Free in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2WGo50l
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2F4jRcz
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2KLFYs9
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/SinShotAUS

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46090991-sin-shot

My Review

Sports romances are one of my go-to romance categories, and it doesn’t really matter what sport is played in the story as long as it balances the time spent in the chosen sport and the developing feelings of the hero and heroine. Hockey romances, though, seem to be the type I find myself reading more often than not, which is why Brit DeMille’s Vegas Crush series was on my radar when I started sifting through my blog tour sign-ups. And even though I didn’t have a chance to read book one, Crushed, because each book focuses on a different couple, I was able to dive into Georg and Pam’s story without difficulty.

Despite the chemistry between Pam and Georg that resonates from the pages of Sin Shot, these two have quite a few obstacles to tackle, both personally and professionally, and they require both of them to figure out exactly what they want from each other and then determine how far they’re willing to go to make things work between them. One of their biggest roadblocks, besides the baggage they both carry, is the Crush organization’s no-fraternization policy because with Pam’s physiotherapist position with the team, nothing is supposed to happen between them, but tell that to their bodies and potentially their hearts. 

I have to admit…I wasn’t all that impressed with Georg when I started Sin Shot; he seemed to be just another partying playboy – one who definitely took advantage of the perks of being a professional athlete. And, as much as I tried to reserve judgment on him until his character was fully developed, I struggled to see past his initial antics. But once he met Pam, he did start to change and the person who he becomes seems to prove the theory that the right woman has the potential to tame even the wildest of men.

Even though it took me a bit to warm up to Georg, I liked Pam as soon as she was introduced. She’s an intelligence, sassy, and strong heroine who has had to endure way more than anyone would think just by interacting with her. And it’s her past that makes her hesitate getting close to anyone or taking a chance on someone when that person could break her even more. But Georg seems to be just as much a game changer for Pam as she is for him, so the more time they spend together and start to develop feelings that are more than just physical desire, readers see that these two just might be perfect for each other and as long as they can work through their issues and figure out what to do about the Crush’s strict policy when it comes to dating, they’ll take their shot at something more permanent.

Sin Shot is a fast-paced and steamy read that illustrates the importance of not allowing anyone or anything to prevent them from taking their shot at happiness. And while it’s a quick read, the story line doesn’t feel light on any of the components that make for an enjoyable reading experience, which is exactly what I want in any story that I read.

Bring on the next Crush hockey stud’s story!

4 Poison Apples

Excerpt

I bring up Georg’s number and before I can talk myself out of it, I press the green call button.

“Hello, Pamela,” he answers on the second ring in that sexy Russian-accented voice of his.

“Hi…I wanted to call and check in after the game. You played super hard, and I thought I’d ask if you wanted to do some therapeutic stretching tomorrow.”

His lengthy pause reminds me why I was an impulsive idiot for calling him.

“You called me at midnight to ask me if I want to do some therapeutic stretching tomorrow?” I can hear the amusement in his tone.

“Well, I…” I’m at a loss for words. A rarity, I know. He chuckles softly into my ear.

“I’m so sorry. God, I didn’t realize how late it was. I’ll catch you at the arena, whenever you want to stop in.”

I hear music in the background. Georg says something but it’s muffled. I realize he must be out partying. Maybe Kacey King is out with him.

“I’ll let you go,” I say, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No, no.” His voice is insistent. “It’s good hearing your voice.”

It is? “Yeah, you too,” I answer after a second. I feel so pathetically stupid. Why on earth did I call him?

“I’ll come see you sometime tomorrow. We don’t practice, so it will probably be after lunch. Will you be there?”

“Yes, I’ll be working tomorrow,” I answer quickly, my heartbeat speeding up at the thought of seeing him so soon.

“Good. Good. Then I guess I should take you up on your offer for some therapeutic stretching, Pamela.”

Oh—my—God. He sees right through me. I realize I need to get off the phone before I say or offer him anything worse. And it will happen…because I turn utterly stupid when I’m around him.

“Night-night, Georg.”

I hope I sound like my confident self, but I can’t tell anymore with him. Georg affects me differently than all other guys before him.

There’s a long pause. So long that I almost think he’s hung up. But then he murmurs, “I love hearing my name on your lips.”

“I…” At a loss, I have no idea what to say to that comment. He has to be drunk, right?

“Good night, Pamela.”

And then he hangs up.

About the Author

Brit DeMille is Raine’s alter-ego in case you didn’t know.

And she is having an absolute blast writing books that are a little bit different from what Raine usually writes. Brit loves stories about sexy billionaires [millionaires make the cut too] who fall in instalove with young women who may or may not be virgins, and then go on to make adorable babies together. In addition to the billionaires, hot hockey players are at the top of her list of favorite heroes, along with royals and ex-military bodyguards.

The most important thing to Brit when she writes a story is a happily ever after. But during the actual writing of the story, the most important thing to Brit is a cup of hot tea with a splash of milk, and a stash of cherry Jolly Ranchers. A dog or two will likely be in between Brit and the chair at any given moment, which is very handy, because they are the ones who approve everything she writes.

Connect with Raine/Brit

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rainemillerromance/
Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/rainemillerreadalong/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Raine_Miller
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/raine.miller2/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/raine-miller
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4930653.Raine_Miller
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2WotVrU

 

Title: Love in an Undead Age

Author: A.M. Geever

Genre: Science Fiction – Post-apocalyptic – Romance

Release Day: August 1, 2019

Cover Designer: Doug Dean, Wall-to-Wall Studios

♦ ♦ ♦

Surviving the zombie apocalypse was hard but saving the human race might be fatal.

Ten years after the zombie apocalypse a good man is still hard to find… just ask Miranda Tucci. Most are ill-equipped to breach Miranda’s emotional defenses, and even in San Jose, California, the most technologically advanced outpost of civilization left on the planet, there’s no app for mending a broken heart. But when Connor MacGuire turns up at nearby Santa Clara University, even Miranda begins to wonder if she has finally found someone she can trust.

The Jesuit priests who lead the community at Santa Clara University are the only counter-balance to the ruthless City Council that rules Silicon Valley. They have hatched a scheme to break the monopoly on a vaccine for the zombie virus that the Council and its powerful ally, Mario Santorello, control.

As the Jesuits’ plan approaches a critical stage and Miranda is recruited to join their mission, the ghosts of her past collide with the present, plunging her into territory both strange and familiar. Will corruption continue to spread and the vaccine be used for political advantage, or can Miranda survive long enough to usher in a new age of civilization? It’s only the fate of humanity that’s suddenly resting on her shoulders. If she can bring her love life back from the dead, how tough can saving the world be?

Love in an Undead Age is a post-apocalyptic romance wrapped inside an adventure that explores universal themes: love and loss, betrayal and redemption. What choices do we make in order to survive, what do they cost us, and are they worth it in the end? Are some breaches of trust too damaging to forgive, or can the healing power of love truly conquer all?

♦ ♦ ♦

Enter to win the Cover Reveal Giveaway HERE!

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I enjoy stories of survival in extraordinary circumstances. It’s not the incident itself that I find interesting but how people react to it. Why brings out the best and the worst of human nature? Do people always break one way or the other, or is it a bit of both? Since zombies can be anything – metaphors, monsters, even jokes – the possibilities for exploring these questions are endless.

As a native Pittsburgher and fan of George Romero films, perhaps it was inevitable that the hours-long NIGHT OF THE LIVING/DAWN OF THE DEAD postmortems that my brothers and I conducted led to this novel. Despite all this my husband and our menagerie of furry critters are woefully unprepared for the zombie apocalypse. The idea of becoming a zombie because my car runs out of gas has gotten me to the gas station on more than one occasion.

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True love never fades…

Broken With You, the next suspenseful tale in the all-new Stark Security series of standalones, from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner, is available now!

After surviving a troubled childhood, Denise can’t believe that she’s blissfully married to her partner and soulmate. She’s confident that not even Mason’s long-term, deep-cover assignment will shake their bond. And she certainly doesn’t anticipate that when he finally walks back through her door that he’ll have no memory of her, himself, or their time together…

When Mason is pulled out of an operation gone bad, all he knows is what he’s told — that he was a covert agent, that he has information vital to national security somewhere in his head, and that they can tell him no more for fear of burying those hard-fought secrets even further. They tell him nothing else; not even that the beautiful woman who makes his heart beat faster is not just his partner, but also his wife.

The secret she must keep wrecks Denise, who wants only to return to Mason’s arms. But despite the desire that still burns hot between them, she can’t tell him who she is—or that she’s carrying his child.

But when dark forces threaten both their lives in order to retrieve the information trapped in Mason’s mind, it’s not their past that will be tested, but the tenuous new love now burning hot between them.

You don’t want to miss this sexy, suspenseful amnesia romance!

My Review

After being introduced to Denise ‘Denny’ Walker in Quincy and Eliza’s book, I was so ready for her story; I loved her grit, her snark, and her ability to get the job done by any means necessary. But all of her training and intelligence couldn’t prepare her for her next mission because, this time, it’s personal and her future as well as the future of her marriage depend on her ability to hide her overwhelming emotions and help Mason remember the information that’s locked in his head that he spent the last two years of his life retrieving, and until the objective is achieved, Denny’s left in limbo, hoping that her husband remembers her and that those who do not want the details unlocked from Mason’s head don’t get their revenge before his memory returns.

Because J. Kenner provides readers with both Denny and Mason’s perspectives, we’re able to see firsthand how they’re dealing with the complications of Mason’s amnesia, and Denny’s fears as well as the pain and frustration that they both feel as Denny works with Mason to figure out who he is and what he knows while also being forced to not reveal what they mean to each other, and with so much at stake, both personally and professionally, it’s quite a taxing journey for the characters as well as the story’s readers because the fallout could keep Denny and Mason broken and apart while still dealing with the threat to Mason’s life due to what he can’t seem to remember.

The way that Kenner crafts and builds Denny and Mason’s story allows readers to become emotionally invested in the characters’ lives, feeling every single emotion as they feel them and questioning whether these two will be able to move forward together or dwell too much on the parts of their lives Mason can’t remember. Denny definitely shows just how mentally strong she is as she watches her husband struggle to find the missing/broken details of his life while also working to uncover the pertinent information that could quite possibly get both of them killed.

It doesn’t matter where J. Kenner takes me in her Stark World; I will gladly follow her and her characters anywhere. And I am loving her Stark Security series. I love romantic suspense and Kenner definitely knows how to utilize all of the genre’s components in a way that heightens the tension, maximizes the uneasiness, and unravels the various plot lines of the conflict in a way that keeps readers guessing on what will happen up until the moment when everything reaches its climax and the fallout must be dealt with in a way that puts all the broken pieces back together, even if they’re a bit bent and/or incomplete.

4.5 Poison Apples Review

Excerpt

The sidewalk was clear on both sides, and only a few empty cars dotted the parking area as heat shimmers rose off the asphalt. The world was a fucking inferno, but all things considered, that seemed apropos. Hadn’t he been tossed right out of the frying pan and into the fire?

A sign that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the fifties sat perched atop vertical steel poles and identified the rundown little motel as the Stay-A-While Motor Inn. Hopefully that was only a suggestion, because he wanted to get out of there sooner rather than later.

He walked down the sidewalk toward the sign, passing the pasted colored doors along the way. Green, room 106. Blue, room 105. Yellow, room 2014.

This path was familiar, and there was some comfort in that.

At the same time, having the full extent of his remembered life marked by the Easter egg colors of a half dozen doors weren’t exactly enough to have him jumping for joy.

The same woman was in the office. About sixty with Lucille Ball hair-he remembered I Love Lucy!

She smiled at him from behind a counter. “Well, you’re looking much better today. Got yourself some sleep, I guess?”

“I did,” he said, then cleared his throat as he glanced around the room. “You got a bus schedule?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Where you heading?”

“Just meandering,” he said, as if he was Jack Reacher, and it was perfectly normal to wander aimlessly around the country.

“Well, let me see if I can find a schedule online for you.” She inched toward a computer that looked to be older than he was, but stopped midway down the counter to answer the phone as she rummaged through a drawer.

He cocked his head, his hand sliding into his pocket as his senses went on high alert.

The phone.

He relaxed.

Of course, He should have realized immediately. The numbers. They were a phone number. 323-555-0717.

“Oh, good, I found it,” she said after ending the call. She pulled a crumpled brochure from a drawer. “So the Greyhound station’s not too far away. That what you’re looking for? Or did you want local routes?”

“Greyhound,” he said, thinking of the 323 area code. “I need to make a phone call. And then I think I’ll head to Los Angeles.”

“Friends there?”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

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About J. Kenner

Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over one hundred novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.

Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.

JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A six time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy) and in 2017 for Wicked Dirty in the same category. Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development as a television show.

Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.

In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.

Connect with J. Kenner

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

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Website: www.jkenner.com

The Locker Room by Meghan Quinn

Release Date: June 20th

Genre: Contemporary Romance

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

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?

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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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.

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.

Connect with Meghan

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

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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!

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?

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Review

‘Be brave and run fast’

The above piece of advice and her need for revenge are the two driving forces of Jersey Six’s life ever since she made the decision to live on the streets rather than be placed in another deplorable foster care situation like the ones that have already scarred her in irreparable ways. And while things haven’t been easy for her, she’s learned to fend for herself, taking desperate measures to accomplish small feats when necessary and doing everything she can not to give up on herself or become just another homeless orphan who got lost in the system, never seeming to have her best interests at heart, and lost in an environment that seemed to continually destroy her hopes and dreams, easily bringing her to her knees without any assistance to help her get back up.

Jersey is definitely a flawed character – one who is a product of her dark, dangerous, and devastating environment. But Jersey refuses to be a victim of her circumstances, which means that she uses her experiences, her flaws, her snark, and her scars as armor, protecting her from those who would use her or hurt her without a second thought. That’s not to say that she hasn’t taken some missteps and found herself in situations where she’s lost bits and pieces of herself and her soul, but Jersey won’t go down without a fight nor will she give up her quest for revenge because it’s what defines her and keeps her moving when it seems easier to just give up.

This story is as unpredictable and complex as its heroine, which makes it necessary for readers to always keep in mind what Jersey is willing to do to achieve her end goal, even if it means putting herself on a path that there may not be any coming back from, but while her decisions and actions are highly questionable, in some ways, because of how Jersey grew up and what she was involuntarily put through, she doesn’t see things in black and white; in fact, she lives squarely in the grey area, which some people would never understand.   

I do have to admit…it took me a bit to get into the story, and then, once I did, I needed to sift through and understand a large amount of information – details that were not delivered in a straightforward way, which meant that all of the unexpected twists and turns that occurred had to be sorted and manipulated in ways that made sense, and that took some time and quite a bit of concentration. But in the end, it was clear that the non-sequential plot line fed into the complete dysfunction of Jersey and of her plan, which, after the fact, became so much clearer.

Jersey Six was my first read by Jewel E. Ann, and it most definitely won’t be my last because she’s a unique storyteller who takes risks that I can appreciate when it comes to non-linear plot lines and drastically flawed characters, and anytime I can read books that go against the grain, even if only slightly, those are exactly the kind of books I’d choose.

4 Poison Apples Review

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.”

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.

Connect with Jewel

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