RELEASE BLITZ: REVIEW AND EXCERPT: AWAY FROM ME by Lexi Blake

Re-released in a second edition with updates.

Shattered by the loss of his wife, Callum Reed is a man surrounded by rules designed to protect him. He rebuilds his life with careful discipline, but can’t deny what he feels when he meets the lovely Gabrielle Sullivan. She’s everything he wants in a woman, but he views all relationships as contractual. Despite her misgivings, Gaby signs his contract and becomes his perfect partner. Until the night she breaks his cardinal rule.

After three years of perfect obedience, Gaby declares she wants love and she isn’t settling for less. Love isn’t in their contract, so Cal lets her go. But Gaby has a secret reason for leaving. When Cal discovers the truth, nothing will stop him from following her.

On a secluded island paradise, Callum will do anything to prove he’s the perfect husband for his defiant love.

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Review

Callum and Gabrielle’s story packs a wallop of an emotional punch inside the pages of their novella, and because it’s told through both of their perspectives, readers witness their contracted relationship of three years quickly end due to their differing needs and wants when it comes to a partner in their bed and in their life.

I can’t say that I blame Gaby for her actions, both before and after the dissolution of their D/s relationship. Gaby didn’t want to simply be Callum’s plaything; she wanted to matter to him as a woman…as a lover…as an equal, and it was clear that wasn’t what Callum wanted, so she fled before her heart could be damaged any further.

Gaby’s ultimate reasons for leaving definitely center around her love for Callum, but it’s also an extremely personal journey she must take. Through the months that she’s away, she finds a strength within that she lost when she was with Callum, so even when Callum learns the truth behind her abrupt exit of their contract, Gaby refuses to reunite with Callum. She’s changed and she knows that he refuses to change the boundaries of his sexual relationships.

It’s definitely a battle of wills when Callum arrives on Gaby’s island and the fact that her very private business plays out in front of her guests and employees only enrages her more; so much so, though, that she can’t see the desperate man in front of her, which makes sense because he’s been quite the jackhole since Gaby blindsided him with what he sees as her new ‘agenda’ to top from the bottom.

I really enjoyed Away From Me; I have to admit that I was extremely pissed off by Callum’s mistreatment of Gaby and the fact that it was a matter of principal and stubbornness that he refused to truly see what he had with her. Lexi Blake does a great of job of illustrating Gaby’s transformation after she leaves Callum’s bed and works through her own issues and self-discovering. She becomes a strong and independent woman, and while she’s still weak when it comes to the man who owns her heart, she refuses to kneel before him until he gets his head out of his ass and treats her like she should be treated.

I hope Blake provides more insight into this intriguing couple because I would love to see how Callum and Gaby are doing and if there’s still a power play between them or an equal exchange.

4 Poison Apples

Excerpt

“Hello, Cal,” she said evenly. “How are you?”

He looked her up and down, his dark blue eyes showing absolutely no expression. Those eyes assessed her, roaming every inch of her body in a decidedly clinical fashion. “I’ve been perfectly fine, Gabrielle. How have you been?”

His hand was suddenly on her elbow. Her skin tingled where he touched her. He didn’t pull at her, merely squeezed gently, and she let him lead her. Yes, that was a force of habit, too, but perhaps her Irish friend was right. If they had any hopes of being comfortable around each other, they had to talk. They began walking slowly away from the pool.

“I’m well.” That could have come out a little stronger. She sounded like a scared rabbit and that wasn’t at all the impression she wanted to make on Cal.

“That’s nice.” Naturally, his voice sounded perfectly even. He could be negotiating a deal rather than talking to an old lover. “From the evil glances I’m getting from some very old friends, I would think I had tried to kill you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” This wasn’t the way she’d expected their first meeting to go. She’d kind of avoided thinking about it.

His jaw went tight. “I’m talking about all my friends looking at me like I’m some kind of criminal. I’ll admit I haven’t exactly been social lately, but I didn’t expect to walk into a party and find myself completely unwelcome. The only thing that’s changed is the status of our relationship, so I’m wondering what’s been said about me.”

Damn Heather and her big mouth. It was supposed to be a secret. She smiled brightly and slipped her arm through Cal’s. Yes, she needed to handle this. She’d never intended to make anyone hate Cal. He simply hadn’t been able to love her.

She had no interest in the two of them becoming a focus of gossip. If she seemed comfortable with her ex-lover, perhaps the other guests wouldn’t talk about them. She tried to look nonchalant. “I have no idea why. I haven’t seen any of these people since I left town ten months ago. Maybe it’s me they’re wary of.”

“I doubt that, pet,” Cal said, all silky and smooth. His voice had a direct line to her soft parts. “Even my oldest friend seems to have turned on me. Greg barely spoke to me this evening. His friendliest words were to tell me to leave you alone. I swear, Gabrielle, if he didn’t need me to broker his deals, he might not talk to me at all. Now I wonder why that is.”

Gaby flushed, guilt flooding her system. She truly hadn’t meant to hurt him, but she didn’t want to rehash the end of their relationship. She’d kept the secret this long. There was no reason he should know about it now. “I don’t know. I have never spoken to Greg about us.”

“I’m sure Heather talks enough.”

Gaby felt her heels sink into the grass as they left the deck. The evening grew darker as the lights from the torches got further away. The gazebo in the distance seemed to be Cal’s destination. She followed willingly. If they were going to talk, it was best to do it in private.

“I can’t control Heather’s mouth. That’s supposed to be Greg’s job. He’s her husband, after all.”

Cal helped her up the gazebo’s steps. He was always solicitous. It was one of the first things to attract her. He was a Dom of the first order. Gaby had been looking for someone like Callum since the day she realized there was a whole world out there for people like her. She’d gone through a couple of men who claimed to be Doms but really just used it as an excuse to be selfish. A real Dominant was someone like Cal, who always took care of her, even if he didn’t love her.

“Well, as it was pointed out to me recently, a Dom only has as much control as his sub allows him.” His deep blue eyes were almost black in the moonlight and there were lines around them that hadn’t been there before. There was a weariness to his frame that called to her. She fought the urge to smooth down his tie and snuggle in his arms. He wasn’t hers to take care of anymore. He turned to her. “So what have you been up to since you left?”

Her hand unconsciously went to her breast, thinking of the pain that centered there. “This and that.”

He leaned back, staring at her as though trying to decide something. “I never could figure you out, Gabrielle. I didn’t know if you were simply content to be kept or if there was some ambition lurking under the placid surface.”

The darkness was a welcome ally as she felt herself flush. If they’d been under even the soft lights of the party, he would have known how much that hurt. “Well, you weren’t interested in my ambitions.”

He shrugged. “I just wondered what you did all day.”

Her laugh was bitter and without an ounce of humor. “I ate bonbons and watched soaps. I counted the hours until you got home.” She turned away from him and looked out over the yard. In the distance, her friends mingled and laughed. She still seemed so far away from them. Maybe she would always seem far away now.

Distance had given her some perspective, especially when it came to her old Dom. “You weren’t interested in who I was as a person, Callum. You were interested in who I was as a sub. My submissive self was docile and sweet. That was what mattered to you. I didn’t ask questions or make demands. It was a D/s relationship. It wasn’t a love affair.”

She knew the difference now.

His fingers ran across the exposed skin of her shoulders and she held on to the railing of the gazebo. The spaghetti straps that held her dress up offered little protection against his gentle assault. She shivered at the touch.

“And you don’t want that anymore, do you? You don’t want a man to dominate you? You don’t want a man to take charge?”

Oh, there were certainly parts of her that did. His hands ran down to her waist, settling on her hips. Push him away. Do it now or this is going to go poorly. You are not capable of handling this.

But she’d waited too long. When he pressed his groin against her backside, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection, and she knew she wasn’t going to walk away.

It was only sex. Sex with Callum had been mind-blowingly good. There wasn’t any reason she couldn’t enjoy it again as long as she held herself apart. It had been so long. And tomorrow morning, she would be on a flight back to her island, where she was surrounded by gorgeous men she couldn’t fuck because they were either an employee or a guest. She was starting over. Shouldn’t she honor her past with one last nice night?

Yeah, her girl parts were super stupid and they were firmly in control.

Cal pressed his hard dick against her and her brain no longer mattered. That dick had been the best she’d ever had and her whole body reacted. It was like her body knew what it had been through in the last ten months and was demanding payment. That big, hard dick was payment for all the pain.

She could handle it. Hell, after what she’d been through, she could handle anything.

NY Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance and urban fantasy that she found the stories of her heart. She likes to find humor in the strangest places and believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome, or foursome may seem.

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

 

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RELEASE DAY BLAST AND EXCERPT: How The Light Gets In by LH Cosway

How The Light Gets In Goodreads

How the Light Gets in

He came back to me 16 minutes and 59 seconds into Beethoven’s Symphony no. 7.

We parted amid tragedy, so it seemed poetic. Dylan O’Dea, my childhood sweetheart, had once meant everything to me. Now we were strangers, and honestly, after eleven years I never thought I’d see him again.

I lived in the world of the average, of getting paid by the hour and budgeting to make ends meet. But Dylan, he lived in the world of wealth and success. He’d achieved the great things I always suspected he would. The dissatisfaction he’d felt as a teenager had obviously been an excellent motivator.

He started a business from scratch, pioneered a brand, and created perfumes adored by women across the globe. I was just one of the people who’d been there before. Now he was living his best life in the after.

And me, well, I’d been in a dark place for a while. Slowly but surely, I was letting the light back in, but there was something missing. I was an unfinished sentence with an ellipsis at the end. And maybe, if I was brave enough to take the chance, Dylan could be my happy ending.

How the Light Gets In is Book #2 and the concluding installment in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.

One

Inner City Dublin, Ireland. 2006. 

Waiting for a flower bud to open was one of my favourite things.

It started out like a closed little pistachio. The next day its petals moved. The following day they spread. The day after that they spread a little bit more, and then finally the flower blossomed to its full potential.

I was waiting for the buds on my pink hibiscus to open, but they still had a few days to go yet. I poured a little water into the pot with a plastic bottle then screwed the cap back on. I was just about to place it on the shelf when someone hammered on my door.

It was a panicked knock, one that demanded attention. In this neighbourhood, it didn’t always bode well to open the door to knocking like this. I squinted through the peephole and recognised a boy I went to school with. His name was Dylan O’Dea, or was it O’Toole? Anyway, I was pretty sure he lived one or two floors below me here at St Mary’s Villas.

Don’t let the ‘Villas’ part fool you. There was nothing villa-like about this place. St Mary’s War Bunker would’ve been a more appropriate title. Everything was grey. The windows gave the barest minimum of light and every single flat smelled vaguely of mildew, no matter how much you cleaned or aired the place.

Dylan looked sweaty and desperate, and there was something about his panicked gaze that had me unlocking my door for him. Before I even had the chance to say a word, he barrelled in and slammed the door shut behind him.

“What the hell!” I exclaimed, at once regretting my decision. I lived with my aunt Yvonne, but she was at work and wouldn’t be home for hours.

Dylan stared me dead in the eye, his chest heaving, and raised a finger to his mouth in the universal gesture of ‘be quiet.’ I closed my mouth and a second later noise sounded from outside. People banged on doors the same way Dylan had been banging on mine. Our eyes met again, and he must’ve sensed I was going to say something because he came at me. He backed me up against the wall until his frame surrounded mine and his hand went to my mouth. I instantly struggled but then he whispered in my ear.

“Please, don’t make any noise. Some people are after me. I just need to hide here for a few minutes and then I’ll leave. I promise.”

I glared at him and lifted my foot to stomp on his ankle. He swore under his breath but didn’t loosen his hold.

“Fuck you,” I mumbled past his fingers. “Get out!” It sounded more like, “Fup Ooo. Et oot.”

“Please, Evelyn. I need your help.”

My heart hammered. He knew my name. Although it wasn’t so strange since most people knew each other’s names around here. It just felt odd for him to address me so familiarly, because we’d never spoken.

The sincerity in his dark blue eyes made me pause in my struggle. We stared at each other for another long moment, and goosebumps claimed my skin. His chest was wide and solid, and he smelled like cloves.

“If I lower my hand, do you promise not to scream?” he asked very quietly.

I nodded slowly, and his hand left my mouth. “Who’s after you?” I whispered, worried he’d brought trouble to my door.

“A few lads from the McCarthy gang. They’ve been trying to recruit me. I told Tommy McCarthy to go fuck off and now they want to give me a hiding.”

“Shite,” I breathed.

The knocking came closer. Whoever it was reached the flat next to mine and hammered on the door. I held still, barely breathing. My eyes traced Dylan’s face, his dark blue eyes, masculine jaw, and gruff expression. He wore grey jeans, black boots and a navy padded jacket. His sandy hair was somewhere in between blond and brown, and it had a slight curl to it. It was clipped short, so the curl didn’t have much room to . . . be curly.

He was very attractive, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d basically broken into my home. When my neighbour came out and started talking to the lads who were looking for Dylan, I whispered, “Why did you come here to hide?”

He made a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowing in a way that made him look like a grumpy bear. “What?”

“You could’ve gone into any flat, why this one?”

There was a beat of silece, then finally he whispered back, “Because you’re the only person on this row who wouldn’t feed me to the wolves.”

I arched a brow. “You don’t know that.”

You don’t know me.

Before he had a chance to reply, the banging started on my door. My chest seized, clutched by fear, because I knew the type of blokes who were out there.

Poor. Hard. Brutal.

Suddenly, Dylan was on me again, his hand on my mouth, his body holding mine in place. This time I didn’t struggle, instead I held still and stayed quiet. A shiver trickled down my spine at his closeness. I wasn’t often this close to people I hardly knew.

“Answer the bleedin’ door,” a male voice shouted. “Or I’ll knock it the fuck down.”

“Maybe I should answer and tell them you’re not here,” I whispered against his fingers.

He glanced down at me, probably because my lips were on his skin. He tilted his head, like he found it in some way interesting, then said, “No, they’ll come in and ransack the place.”

I let out an anxious breath. He was right. And I couldn’t do that to Yvonne. I couldn’t have her come home from her shift at the bar to a wrecked flat.

More banging ensued. I startled when a head appeared at the window, though thankfully Yvonne’s net curtains shielded us from view.

“He’s not in there,” someone said. “He probably ran down to the Willows.”

The Willows was a dilapidated block of flats about five minutes away. It was where people went to drink and do drugs. If you were homeless, it was where you went to sleep.

“Come on,” the same person said and the guy peering in the window disappeared. Dylan let go of me, took three strides across the room and looked out through the curtains.

“They’re gone,” he said and exhaled, his shoulders slumping in relief.

“Yes, now you should go, too,” I said, on guard again. I felt on edge having a strange boy in my flat who I’d never even spoken to before. Though ‘boy’ wasn’t exactly the right term. Dylan was probably about a year older than me, eighteen maybe, but he was built like a man. Soon his shoulders would get even broader, his features more defined. He’d be a sight to be reckoned with then, I was sure.

He turned back to look at me, one eyebrow arching as he stared me down. He didn’t do anything for a long moment and then his attention moved about the living room. His tension faded, and something like fondness, or maybe amusement, took its place.

“Big fan of New York?” he asked wryly, taking in all the posters and memorabilia.

I cleared my throat. “No, my aunt Yvonne is. She saw When Harry Met Sally and became obsessed. She’s saving up to move there in a couple years.”

Dylan’s mouth formed an attractive, thoughtful line. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you go with her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so. Probably not. My grandma lives in the retirement home in Broadstone. We’re all she has. I couldn’t leave her.”

Dylan took this in, his dark eyes softening, then stepped to the front door. “Thanks for letting me hide here. I owe you one,” he said, ducking his head to make sure the coast was clear.

“Sure,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

He looked back at me one last time. “See ya, Evelyn.” And then he was gone.

***

“I’m sorry, but I’d sell my own mother for a night with Jared Leto, no question,” said Sam as we walked to English on Monday.

“Are we talking 30 Seconds to Mars Jared Leto or Jordan Catalano Jared?” I asked. “Because those are two entirely different kettles of fish.”

30 Seconds, of course. You know I can’t resist a man in eyeliner,” he said then winked. We reached our lockers when a familiar head of sandy brown hair emerged from the crowd.

Dylan.

He must’ve sensed my attention, because his eyes flashed to mine. I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of him. He had a purple bruise beneath one eye, and there were various other cuts and grazes all over his face. Jesus.

Sam followed where I was looking and made a crass comment. “Looks like Dylan O’Dea likes it rough.”

So it was O’Dea.

“I think he got that beating on the streets, not in the sheets,” I said, chewing worriedly on my lip. Those McCarthy fellas must’ve caught up to him yesterday.

“Good one.” Sam chuckled, but I didn’t share his humour.

A pang of concern hit me square in the chest and I moved toward him automatically, leaving Sam by his locker. Dylan saw me approach and stopped in place, his attention skittering over me. He hitched his bag up on his shoulder and let out a gruff breath. “What?” he asked.

“They got you, didn’t they?”

He shifted from foot to foot, seeming uncomfortable with my concern. “Nah, walked into a wall.”

“Don’t be cute.”

Another sigh. “Yeah. They got me, blondie. Probably better to get it over with anyway. Now maybe they’ll leave me alone.”

I nodded slowly, not sure how to react to his endearment. It wasn’t very original, but it still made my breastplate tingle. “You think?”

“I hope, but who knows.”

“Have any teachers asked about your bruises?”

He gave me an incredulous look. “Where do you think we are? Nobody gives a shit here.”

I hated that he was right. The teachers at this school were either too mean or too downtrodden to care about students’ home lives. In a way, I didn’t blame them. Even the nice teachers eventually got so sick of being bullied and verbally abused that they shut off all their emotions. This wasn’t a soft place to grow up, but I liked to think I still had a heart.

I didn’t think before I said my next words. “Well, I give a shit.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”

“Because I’m not an unfeeling rock, that’s why.”

Dylan stared off over my head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You probably should be,” he said, then walked by me and disappeared back into the crowd.

Huh.

“Oh blondie, get your bum over here,” Sam crooned, and I turned back to my friend.

“What?” I asked.

“I didn’t know you and Dylan O’Dea were acquainted.”

I frowned. “We’re not. Not really.”

He folded his arms and pursed his lips. “Sure sounded like you are.”

“He was being chased by some blokes who wanted to beat him yesterday and I let him hide in my flat. That’s it.”

“Oooh, racy. Did he happen to hide in your bedroom by any chance? And did you share a sexy moment once the coast was clear? How did he express his gratitude?”

Trust Sam to turn everything into some sort of risqué soap opera. Although thinking about it, the way Dylan held his hand over my mouth did give me a flutter in my belly.

“He told me he owed me one,” I replied with a shrug. Sam’s eyes glittered.

“That means he owes you a good rogering.”

“Sam!”

“What?”

“Don’t be disgusting.”

“Nothing disgusting about sex with a fella like that, Ev. Besides, you need to lose that flower of yours before it shrivels up and dies.”

I scrunched my face. “Please don’t call it a flower. And anyway, I’m not the only one who needs to lose it, so you can quit talking like you know it all.”

He gave me a sassy look. “If I were as straight and as pretty as you are, I’d have lost it years ago. It’s not exactly easy to find gays in this neck of the woods.”

“Not easy to find gays who are out, you mean. Just wait for the next person who throws some homophobic slur at you and there’s a good chance he’s in the closet.”

“Hmm, I do get a hint of an angry sex vibe from Shane Huntley sometimes. Maybe you’re onto something.”

Speak of the devil. A few seconds after Sam mentioned him, Shane walked by with his ever-present posse of arseholes, usual sneer in place. I wondered why the meanest kids always seemed to have the most friends. I didn’t have a mean bone in my body and the only real friend I had was Sam. Shane walked on, not acknowledging us aside from his sneering expression, and I turned to neaten up my locker.

“I found a book on Freud in Yvonne’s collection,” I told him. “He had this theory that when we see the things we dislike in ourselves in others, we hate on it.”

“Hmm,” said Sam. “Could be some truth to it. But anyway, back to the luscious Mr O’Dea, when are you going to cash in on that debt?”

I chuckled. “Not sure. Maybe the next time I need some help moving furniture. The boy’s got some serious shoulders on him.”

“All the better for throwing you around the bedroom with.”

I shot him an irritable glance. “You’re not going to quit with this, are you?”

His answering wink was pure devilment. “Not in this lifetime, blondie.”

DON’T MISS THE FIRST BOOK IN THIS DUET!!!
Title: A Crack In Everything (Cracks Duet)
Age Group: Adult
Release Date: January 30, 2018
A Crack in Everything
Life used to be simple.

I was a city girl with humble dreams. Then Dylan O’Dea broke into my flat, held me against the wall and told me to stay quiet.

It was like in the movies, where the universe zeros in on a single scene. I looked into his eyes and knew he was going to change me.

For Dylan, the sky was always falling. He showed me how our world is a contradiction of beauty and ugliness. How we choose to ignore the awful and gloss over it with the palatable. How you need just a tiny drop of something unsavoury to create every great scent.

Pretty deep for a pair of teenagers living in a block of council flats in inner city Dublin, right Probably. But we weren’t typical. We both had our obsessions. Mine was growing things, Dylan’s was scent. He taught me how to use my nose, and I introduced him to the magic of flowers.

I had no idea that one day he’d build an empire from what we started together. But before that, there was love and happiness, tragedy and epic heartbreak…

My name is Evelyn Flynn and I’m going to tell you about the crack in everything.

A Crack in Everything is Book #1 in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.

L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Social Media Links:

FB: www.facebook.com/LHCosway
Twitter: www.twitter.com/LHCosway
Instagram: www.instagram.com/l.h.cosway
Website: www.lhcoswayauthor.com
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COVER REVEAL AND EXCERPT: KEEPING PROMISES by Renea Porter


Title: Keeping Promises

Author: Renea Porter

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: February 26, 2018

Cover Design: niquelDesigns

Synopsis

I’m engaged to be married. But I have feelings for someone else… my sisters soon to be ex.

I keep feeling this magnetic pull toward Guy. Maybe it’s his British accent. Or the way his hair curls at the ends that makes me want to run my hands through it. Maybe it’s the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. Whatever it is, something is there, and I can’t shake it.

He’s my brother in law. It’s so wrong on so many levels. Even if there was a possibility there, it feels wrong because he belonged to my sister first. It’s becoming hard to ignore the nervousness that swirls inside me whenever I’m around him.
He says he won’t give up until I tell him I choose Trevor instead.

I can’t tell him that.

Excerpt

Since my sister left Guy, I’ve barely heard from her. However, he’s thrown himself into the restaurant and even won an award for Best Steakhouse in the area. That is exceptionally rare for such a new restaurant. Lately, I’ve noticed there hasbeen a little pep in Guy’s step.

“Hey.” Smiling, I tug on his sleeve playfully.

“Yeah?” He spins around to face me.

“It’s good to have you back.”

“What did you call it? Back to the land of the living.” He smirks, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I laugh. “Yeah.”

With the restaurant flourishing, I’m happy to be busy.

To top everything off, I’ve been feeling this magnetic pull toward Guy. I don’t know. Maybe it’s his British accent, or the way his hair curls at the ends, that makes me want to run myhands through it. Maybe it’s the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

Whatever it is, something is there. And I can’t shake it. He’s my brother-in-law. Or my soon to be ex-brother-in-law. It’s so wrong on so many levels. Even if there was a possibility there, he belonged to my sister first. But it’s becoming hard to ignore the nervousness that swirls in my belly and my fast beating heart whenever I’m around him.

Six months ago, my boyfriend of five years finally proposed, and I said yes. That was way before my feelings for Guy shifted. Just being in Guy’s presence is already affecting me in ways that I can’t explain.

Then again, just because I feel a pull to someone, it doesn’t mean I’m in love with him. But my fast beating heart thinks otherwise.

Book Trailer

About The Author

Website | Facebook | Goodreads

Renea Porter is best known for writing realistic stories with realistic characters. Her stories may even cause you to shed a tear or two. She mainly writes New Adult and Contemporary Romances. However, she’s not afraid to venture into other genres like Paranormal Romance.

She enjoys spending time with her husband of fourteen years, and stepson. She calls Pennsylvania home but loves to travel and try new things. In her free time, you can catch her reading books, watching reality tv, and baking.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ AND EXCERPT: MIXED by Lane Martin

Title: Mixed (A Recipe For Love Series #3)

Author: Lane Martin

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: February 5, 2018

Synopsis

Mixed is a full-length standalone novel in the Recipe for Love Series.
What happens when you “mix” together sexy chef, Logan Wheeler, and bartender, Libby Barnes?

I read one of those cute decorative signs at a truck stop gift shop on my way from Nashville to New York. It took everything in me not to laugh my ass off right next to the beef jerky and air fresheners. I was also tempted to buy both for two reasons. Number one, I’m pregnant, and number two, I’m pregnant.
Every once in a while,
in the middle of an ordinary life,
Love gives you a Fairytale.
What a crock. There are no such things as fairytales. Besides, what’s ordinary anyway? I’d be happy with a roof over my head, a steady paycheck, helping my sister mend her broken heart, and not screwing up as a parent. Anything after that would just be frosting. Yum, frosting. Damn cravings.
OK, OK, maybe I should have re-read the first line.
Every once in a while,
Because my ordinary life became extraordinary, the second Logan Wheeler crashed my doctor’s appointment and held my hand when I heard my baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I wasn’t looking for a baby daddy. I guess that’s when you usually find things.
Now I’m just hoping for Happily Ever After.

I’m Libby Barnes, and I can tell you one thing for sure, I wasn’t looking for a man when I moved to New York. In fact, I was trying to get away from one, my “baby daddy.” God, I hated that term. I probably should have just told Edward we were over and that I was leaving. Oh yeah, I should have told him I was knocked up too. You know what they say about hindsight? Well, she’s a real bitch.

My broken-hearted sister, Emily, needed me and I needed a fresh start. So I showed up unannounced on her doorstep with the universal cure-all, aka Ben and Jerry’s and my growing bundle of joy, hidden under my clothes.

My only real plan was to be the good sister my twin deserved and to be a mom my kid could be proud of. I certainly didn’t need anyone to help me with either of those goals. The only thing I did need was a job. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to hear the words “you’re hired” when my sister suggested we eat out at one of the swankiest restaurants in the city. But then again, I wasn’t expecting to have to show the bartender how to make a Manhattan either. My entire body shouldn’t have tingled as I followed the gravelly voice of the man who said those two simple words and it shouldn’t have made my panties wet. I’d had to remind myself to close my mouth as he’d stood before me with a smirk, his sexy black chef’s coat, and my personal kryptonite, tattoos on his arms.

Logan Wheelers wasn’t part of my plan. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans. Who am I kidding? I’ve always been a fly by the seat of my pants type of girl.

I’m Logan Wheeler. I had everything I needed in life. OK, maybe that’s not true. I needed a bartender for my restaurant. ASAP. I guess that’s why I wasn’t surprised when I was told I needed to get out to the bar to see what was going on. I wasn’t expecting what I found at all. She looked exactly like her twin, only better. Her rack was amazing but even better than that was the way she looked behind the bar. My bar. It was where she belonged. Behind it. On top of it. Underneath it. Hell, I didn’t care where. As long as I had her.

I live my life by one motto, no regrets. I’d already had enough of those for one lifetime and the first time I saw her I knew not going for Libby would be the greatest regret of my life.

Purchase your copy today!

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Excerpt

Libby

“You’re hired,” I don’t know if it was the words or the voice that said them from behind me that got to me the most. I know he only vocalized two of them, but his timber was rich, relaxed, and manly, and fucking sexy as hell. A shiver ran down my spine before I turned to see if the face matched the voice. I wasn’t disappointed.

His dark hair was short and styled like all he did was towel dry it. His ruggedly handsome square jaw was covered in scuff, along with his upper lip. I wanted to know what it would feel like on my skin. Let’s just say it was a good thing I was already pregnant because one look from this guy and I could have gotten knocked up again. I hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. He was wearing a black short sleeve chef coat with his name embroidered over his heart. Logan. Did I mention that his arms were covered in ink? They were beautiful and intricate designs that made you want to get closer so that you could study them, run your finger along the edges. This man had many stories to tell, and I wanted to see and hear every one of them.

“Oh shit,” Jackson mumbled before making himself look busy. Despite the bustling dining room, the bar wasn’t very crowded. Maybe it was because people knew they would never get a table. It could also have had to do with the barkeep. Jackson was a cutie; by he couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. I also knew Swayed was known for its wine list and staff of sommeliers. The wine cellar was probably bigger than the bar itself which was a damn shame.

“Logan, they let you out of the kitchen?” My sister asked the sexy beast of a man approached us with an amused grin on his face. I guessed this was how we were getting a table; they obviously knew each other. My twin had been holding out on me.

“Every once in a while, Emily,” he answered before placing a kiss on my sister’s cheek. I envied that cheek. Logan turned his attention to the bartender. “Are we letting patron’s mix their own cocktails now?”

“What? You implied she was hired, so technically she’s an employee.” I nearly choked on my drink when Logan turned his attention towards me. He was even better looking close up. His beautiful brown eyes shone with amusement as he tried not to laugh. He put out his hand and offered, “I’m Logan Wheeler.” What no kiss for me?

“Libby Barnes.” I introduced myself as he took my hand. Interesting, he was a topper. I considered myself an expert handshake reader. His shake was about power, don’t get me wrong. It was subtle as shit, but I didn’t doubt he was in charge. It wasn’t aggressive or forceful, but with his hand facing downward and my palm upward it was clear he was thinking ten steps ahead. As I returned the shake, I rotated our wrists. You’re not the boss of me. The look he gave me in response told me everything I needed to know. Message received. Our hands remained joined for much longer than was necessary.

“Sorry to break up the love fest, but can I get another “perfect” Manhattan?” The server used air quotes as she ordered the drink. Jackson looked at me with pleading eyes. I was a sucker, so I got off my chair and rounded the bar again.

“Isn’t she great?” Emily asked as Logan watched me intently.

“She is.” Once again that shiver ran down my spine. Christ Libby get ahold of yourself. “I thought your sister was in Nashville.”

“She was,” I answered, “I mean I was.” Good job Lib, make yourself look like a complete idiot. “I’m here now.” I turned to the pass with the drink I’d just made to hide my blush.

 

About The Author

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Writing never crossed my mind. I was a working wife and mother, but in June of 2012 that all changed when my sister bought me a little book by E.L. James for my birthday. I couldn’t get enough of the series, and that’s when I found out about Fanfiction. I decided to give it a whirl and rediscovered a part of me I had long since forgotten. With the encouragement of my Fanfiction readers and the support of my family, I decided to write something of my own. I guess you can say the rest is history. I currently live in Northern California with my husband of over twenty years and my high school age son, while my daughter attends college in Washington, DC. I love reading, spending time with my family, traveling, and trying out restaurants that are on Food Network. Thank you for joining me on this crazy ride.

More in the series!

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RELEASE LAUNCH: REVIEW AND EXCERPT: THE COACHING HOURS by Sara Ney

 

THERE ARE NO DOUCHEBAGS IN THIS STORY.

Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about.

This story is about me-the coach’s daughter.

When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university’s take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie-living with my father would be temporary, and he’d make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.

Wrong on both counts.

ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH.

A bet is placed, and I’m on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It’s time for the nice guy to finish first.

Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more.

And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.

AMAZON | AMAZON UK | AMAZON AU

Review

Douchebags and jockholes…all colleges have them and they’re notorious for their arrogant personalities, sexual promiscuity and need to one up their friends with stupid bets and the number of notches on their bedpost.

But not all athletes are douchecanoes, and while these ‘good’ guys seem to be far and few between in New Adult Sports Romances, Sara Ney’s Jock Row actually has more than just reformed asshats, and this time around, readers get to see a nice guy get everything he wants. Now, don’t get me wrong, the hero in Ney’s Coaching Hours isn’t perfect; in fact, he makes some stupid decisions and allows his life to spin out of control because he’s always had a path to follow and veering off that course is not something he’s ever considered, but a certain Coach’s daughter changes his priorities and while there were definitely times I wanted to throttle him…put him in the douchebag category, understanding his perspective and the circumstances forced me to not want to punch him in his junk!

Sara Ney’s newest hero and heroine’s relationship evolves smoothly as the story continues; they move from strangers to roommates to friends to lovers and as the feelings between them intensify, things get a bit dicey due to ‘Library Guy’s’ singular focus on his education and career, but while that forces some distance between them, it doesn’t negate the connection they share.

The old adage of ‘nice guys finish last’ is put to the test in Sara Ney’s newest Douchebag release, The Coaching Hours, and I can unequivocally say that in the case of ‘Library Guy,’ he has the personality, looks, and attitude to come out on top, once he’s willing to widen his life goals and gains the much needed perspective on how much love should factor into his choices.

I do have to admit that a certain supporting character makes amends for his douchebaggery in the Coaching Hours and while he’s not necessarily off the hook for some of his antics and inappropriate behavior, he comes through when he really needs to, which makes him alright in my eyes.

I’ve enjoyed the hell out of Ney’s Douchebag series, and while I’m sad to say goodbye, I can’t wait to see where Ney takes romance readers next!

4 Poison Apples

Excerpt

She perks up. “Wait, you’ve never had a back massage?”

“No?”

“Ever?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what the hell? How can I, in good conscience, lie here letting you rub my back when you’ve never had anyone rub yours?” She scoots over, pointing to the mattress. “Lie on your stomach, I’ll do you first.”

I wave my hands in front of me in protest. The last thing I need is her warm hands roaming my body. “No, no, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you crazy? Back massages are the best-like, better than an orgasm. You’re first, so lie down.”

“And you call me the bossy one?”

“Quit stalling and get on the bed.”

Obediently, I climb to the middle of my bed in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, legs hanging off the side. Next to me, the mattress dips, Anabelle on her knees, approaching my side.

A finger glides down my spine. “It will be easier for me to do this if I’m sitting on you. Hope that’s okay.”

“Is that the approved method?”

“No, but my arms will get tired if I have to lean over you the whole time.”

“Do whatever then, I don’t care.”

I stiffen when Anabelle swings one leg over my body, straddling my ass. Warm palms at my lower back.

“You’re so tense. Try to relax,” she coos, making it worse. “Tilt your head to the side, that’s it.”

I hear the lotion bottle snap open. Click closed. My roommate’s palms rubbing together, warming it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any actual massage oil. This will have to do.”

When her hands make contact with my back, I almost groan it feels so fucking good. Warm. Smooth. Pressure in all the right places, pushing gently into my muscles.

Slowly.

Slower still, caressing along my shoulders, thumbs and fingers working together to soothe the burning on my right side.

“Doesn’t this feel great?” Her soft voice cuts into the silence. “You’re loosening up. That’s good.”

I feel her leaning as her hands move up and down my spine until they stop, hovering at the base of my neck. Thumbs stroking the skin below my hairline, back and forth.

Kneading.

Her torso dips, hands maneuvering my arms, placing them at my sides. Palms slide up and down my biceps.

For several minutes, she rubs my arms and shoulders. Then she skims down my ribcage unhurriedly, in no rush, making little humming sounds inside her throat.

I know I’m not imagining the feather-light way her hands drift down my spine. I remain still, letting her touch me, basking in it.

Remain still when her lips kiss the tender spot of my shoulder where it meets my neck, nose nuzzling behind my ear, her breasts rubbing against my back and what the fuck was that all about? What does she think she’s doing, trying to drive me insane?

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

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RELEASE BLITZ REVIEW AND GIVEAWAY: FOLLOW ME BACK by A.L. Jackson

Follow Me Back 

The next seductive, unforgettable stand-alone romance in the FIGHT FOR ME series from NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson . . .

 

“This is why I read romance.” –Lauren Rowe, USA Today and Internationally bestselling author

My loves – I am so beyond thrilled to finally get to share Kale and Hope’s story with you in FOLLOW ME BACK! Writing this book was a labor of love, and after everything, I think it might be my favorite book I’ve ever written. It’s super sexy and swoony, sad and sweet, and just filled my heart up so full there is no chance I will ever forget the way these characters made me feel. I hope you fall in love with them the same way I did! 

Enjoy!

xoxo – Amy 

Blurb

The next seductive, unforgettable stand-alone romance in the FIGHT FOR ME series from NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson . . .

Kale Bryant. Arrogant. Gorgeous. Commanding.

This ER doctor is married to his job. His only vice is one-night stands and short-lived flings. He learned a long time ago loving someone isn’t worth the risk.

Harley Hope Masterson. Beautiful. Brave. Sweet.

The owner of a small coffee shop knows what it’s like to struggle. Embroiled in a bitter divorce, she’s threatened with losing everything.

When Kale accepts a new position down the street from Hope’s shop, he begins to question every wall he’s built around his heart.

He wants her in a way he hasn’t wanted anyone. 

One touch is fire.

One kiss, and he’s spinning out of control.

But taking her won’t come without consequences.

Hope is in for the fight of her life. One neither of them saw coming.

Now Kale must decide if loving her is worth risking it all.

She will fight with everything she has.

But sometimes even hope needs a hero . . .

Audible

Review

‘For every heart broken, one was mended. For every life lost, there was one to be saved.’

And Kale Bryant has been dedicated to saving as many lives/hearts as he can, making a difference in the lives of people who hold onto even the slightest bit of hope as Dr. Bryant works to make up for his ultimate failure…his secret shame, the reason behind his single lifestyle – one with no promises…no commitments…no loyalties, except to his best friends and his god children.

‘A Drop of Hope’

Hope Masterson has always been one to never give up on hope, holding on to it even when she’s fighting the greatest fight of her life, working tirelessly to protect her heart, needing nothing and no-one beyond who she lives her life to keep safe and healthy.

‘Someday’

For Kale and Hope, that day doesn’t seem attainable due to fear, uncertainty, and boundaries; but it’s clear from their initial interaction that these two characters are drawn to each other in a way that matters…that illustrates just how significant they could come to mean for each other’s lives, so even though it’s messy and lines become blurred what A.L. Jackson continually illustrates is the idea that even though moving forward may be difficult, living in the past…living in regrets isn’t truly living; it’s simply existing and settling for a life without love…without hope.

It’s so easy to become emotionally invested in A.L. Jackson’s stories because she truly allows her readers inside the heads and hearts of her characters, exposing the rawness of their emotions and delving deep into why they’ve chosen the paths that they have due to a set of uncontrollable circumstances – ones that irrevocably change the direction of their lives, causing immense heartbreak and pain.

Kale and Hope’s lives are ones that they’ve committed to living for very specific reasons and while they were content to taking each day as it came, focusing on their jobs and their family and nothing else, everything changes when they cross paths, and while they both fight their attraction because it’s a complicated time for Hope and Kale refuses to become invested in someone other than his patients and his friends, their contented lives slowly become not enough because their need for one another becomes overwhelming, forcing their hands and damning the consequences of crossing a line that they will never be able to come back from.

Follow Me Back is a heartbreaking story of loss…of shattered existences…of broken promises, but what it also is, is a story of hope amidst the pain…the grief…the complications, and if Kale and Hope can hold on to that optimistic outlook, even when it feels like all hope is lost then they just might be able to move forward together, leaning on one another, making themselves whole in ways they could have never imagined until they both took a chance on love…on each other.

Kale and Hope’s journey is not an easy one to read, but the characters who support them, who champion for them to have everything that they deserve prove just how loved and adored the hero and heroine are, and it’s clear even though it may not be the right time because wanting the things that they do could make things even more complicated and more difficult, their friends as well as their own hearts and hope won’t allow them to completely give up although that’s exactly what Kale wants to do a number of times throughout the story.

A.L. Jackson, once again, tells a hauntingly beautiful story – one that teaches an array of lessons about second chances and the purpose of hope and while both Kale and Hope have been dealt some bitter blows in life, it’s clear that they both have enough love to weather anymore storms that head their way.

4.5 Poison Apples

Kindle Fire HD 8 + Show Me the Way & Hunt Me Down Signed Copies

+ $25 Amazon GC Giveaway  

A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.

Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, and BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for A.L. Jackson’s upcoming novel, FOLLOW ME BACK, the second stand-alone novel in her brand-new FIGHT FOR ME SERIES.

If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.

Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

Connect with A.L.

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Twitter: @aljacksonauthor
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REVIEW TOUR: COMBUST by K. Bromberg

Combust, an all new sexy and emotional standalone by K. Bromberg is Available NOW!

From New York Times Bestselling author, K. Bromberg, comes the second standalone book in the Everyday Heroes series.

Just how hot will firefighter Grady Malone turn up the heat?

Songwriter Dylan McCoy has been burned.

By her boyfriend she found in her bed . . . with someone else.

By the contract she signed that obligates her to work with him until the songs for his new album are complete.

By her agent when she asked Dylan to keep their breakup on the down-low.

When she finds herself in Sunnyville, she refuses to let her new roommate burn her too. Still . . . a rebound has never looked so good.

That’s her first thought when she sees firefighter Grady Malone.
Sexy. Charismatic. Unapologetic. He’s a man who carries his own scars-the ones on his back, the survivor’s guilt on his soul, and the fear in his heart.

When an unexpected visitor puts their roommate status to the test, will their undeniable attraction burn out, or will they both take a chance and play with fire?

Purchase your copy today!

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Review

‘Two-in…Two-out’

It seems like such a simple statement, but its meaning and the aftermath of the equation becoming unbalanced make that a life-changing declaration – one that alters and redefines a person’s…a family’s…a widow’s entire world, leaving them with survivor’s remorse, blinding rage, and an array of messy and dark emotions and thoughts, making it almost impossible to live in the present when the scars of the past dominate every single aspect of their lives.

Combust, the title of Grady Malone and Dylan McCoy’s story, is defined as someone or something being consumed by fire, and while its denotative meaning fits Grady’s profession and the main reason his life has imploded with guilt, fear, and doubt, its connotative meanings explore a variety of life moments that cause individuals to be monopolized by their emotions, whether it be dealing with self-doubt, a broken heart, or any number of life-altering events and circumstances.

When their story begins, Grady and Dylan wear their pain like a straightjacket. It’s all-consuming because their scars haven’t been dealt with; Grady refuses to live in the present because the loss and pain of the past is too great to move on from and Dylan flees her life in Los Angeles to lick her wounds and not give into the man who broke her heart. At first, neither are willing to confront their issues or the fallout of what occurred, but the more time Dylan and Grady spend together and the fake relationship they enter into when a certain cheater comes to make ‘amends’ with Dylan helps them to form a meaningful connection that starts to heal both of their open wounds and even the mental scars that have constantly tormented Grady since the accident two years ago.

‘Face everything and rise.’

This is only one of many valuable life lessons readers are reminded of in Grady and Dylan’s story, but it’s the one that most encompasses where they both need to get to in order to move on and be fully present in their lives instead of simply surviving and enduring. For Grady, this means learning to let go of his guilt over not being able to save Drew and finding a way to face the flames again after the damage they did the last time he confronted them. For Dylan, it’s not only dealing with her ex’s cheating ways, but it’s also finding a way to see herself as the beauty she is and finding her voice amidst the self-doubt and the recriminating comments from others as well as herself.

Out of all of the stories that I have read and adored by K. Bromberg, Combust might be my absolute favorite, partly because of the depth of the storyline and partly because of how complex the characters are. Bromberg slowly transforms and heals Grady and Dylan in the months that Dylan spends in Sunnyville, and because readers are provided both of their perspectives, we are able to witness the self-discovery they go through as they realize their worth, their purposes and their overwhelming feelings for each other.

K. Bromberg doesn’t make a happily ever after easy for Grady and Dylan, which is fitting due to the reality of their circumstances. But even though they both falter, at times, and maintain certain absolutes about their lives that no longer fit who they want to be and have become, they must realize those truths on their own because once they do, they will be able to reap the rewards of all of the lessons that they’ve learned as they’ve found their way back to who they truly are and the lives they were meant to lead.

4.5 Poison Apples

About K. Bromberg

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels-Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)-and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

Connect with K. Bromberg

Website: http://www.kbromberg.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KBrombergDriven

Instagram: https://instagram.com/kbromberg13/

Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/204Qnfz

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COVER REVEAL: RELEASE by Dylan Allen

 
Title: Release
A Symbols of Love Novel
Author: Dylan Allen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Mary Ruth, Passion Creation
Release Date: February 28, 2018
Blurb
I’m here for pleasure.

And in paradise, I don’t have a past. I don’t have pain, my secrets don’t haunt me and I can be anyone I want

He’s here for business.

Harry’s intoxicatingly handsome, rich, and also the biggest jerk I’ve ever met. So, it’s inconvenient that sparks fly every time our eyes meet.

Indulging in an affair wasn’t on my agenda.

But fate isn’t a mistress to our intentions; And what starts as strike of lightening on a moonlit beach ignites a fire between us that will span continents.

Meeting again in the unlikeliest of circumstances feels written in the heavens.

And I’ll need the courage of the gods to tell him the truth.

They say the truth will set you free… but what if it destroys you first?

Also Available
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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio

Dylan Allen is a Texas girl with a serious case of wanderlust.

A self-proclaimed happily ever junkie, she loves creating stories where her characters chase their own happy endings.

When she isn’t writing or reading, eating or cooking, she and her family are planning their next adventure.

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COVER REVEAL: FRESH CATCH by Kate Canterbary

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No strings, no promises, no problems.

Fresh Catch_ebook cover

Title: Fresh Catch
Author: Kate Canterbary
Cover Design: Anna Crosswell, Cover Couture
Release Date: February 20, 2018

Blurb

Take a vacation, they said. Get away from Silicon Valley’s back-stabbing and power-grabbing. Recharge the innovative batteries. Unwind, then come back stronger than ever.

Instead, I got lost at sea and fell in love with an anti-social lobsterman.

There’s one small issue:

Owen Bartlett doesn’t know who I am. Who I really am.

~~

I don’t like people.

I avoid small talk and socializing, and I kick my companions out of bed before the sun rises.

No strings, no promises, no problems.

Until Cole McClish’s boat drifts into Talbott’s Cove, and I bend all my rules for the sexy sailor.

I don’t know Cole’s story or what he’s running from, but one thing is certain:

I’m not letting him run away from me.

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Don’t want to wait for a taste of Owen and Cole?
Follow Kate Canterbary at Book+Main for exclusive Fresh Catch content!
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Bio

Kate Canterbary doesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since.

Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.

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COVER REVEAL: SINNER by Sierra Simone

SINNER by Sierra Simone

Cover Reveal: Feb. 2

Release Date: March 15th

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Designer: Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs

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Blurb

I’m not a good man, and I’ve never pretended to be. I don’t believe in goodness or God or any happy ending that isn’t paid for in advance.

What do I believe in? Money. Sex. Macallan 18.

They have words for men like me—playboy. Womanizer. Skirt chaser.

My brother used to be a priest, and he only has one word for me.

Sinner.

PREORDER IS AVAILABLE!

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About the Author

Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

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