tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49687030446184805552024-03-28T22:08:45.562-04:00Pink Fluffy Hearts: Diary of a Coffee AddictPink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.comBlogger3302125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-5504227795730381202024-03-28T08:00:00.018-04:002024-03-28T21:50:37.925-04:00The Professor (Tanglewood University, #1)<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/550422779573038120#"><strong>The Professor </strong><b>(Tanglewood University, #1)</b></a> By Skye Warren<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 26, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/550422779573038120#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres:</b> Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren, delivers the sizzling first book in a brand new trilogy, The Professor, a forbidden, student/professor, ex-boyfriend’s dad romance.</i></p>
<p><i>One night only with a handsome stranger.<br />
Older. Alluring. Savage. Dominant.<br />
No last names or expectations.<br />
Just raw, carnal, filthy pleasure.</i></p>
<p><i>I never thought I would see him again.<br />
Until the first day of class. He’s my new professor.<br />
And my ex-boyfriend’s father.</i></p>
<p><i>He has a world of secrets in his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders. I should stay away from him, but the more I try, the more consumed he gets.</i></p>
<p><i>His possessiveness is rivaled only by his secretive nature. He knows everything about me, but mystery surrounds him. Shadows threaten the entire university…and our forbidden love.</i></p>
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<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Pretend you don’t want it.”</p>
<p>His kiss is urgent, unyielding. He forces my mouth open, allowing me to feign resistance. Or at the very least, nonchalance. I let him tilt my head back and run his lips down my neck. It’s a terrible game I’m playing, letting him take the fall for our mutual destruction.</p>
<p>I should at least tell him, confess my own desire, even if he already knows.</p>
<p>It would be the honorable thing to do.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Will—”</p>
<p>“Ah ah,” he says with a slow shake of his head, with a devastating expression of knowing in his dark eyes. “In this office, you will address me as Professor Stratford.”</p>
<p>My secret muscles clench, and he gives me an almost boyish smile.</p>
<p>“This gets you hot, doesn’t it, Ms. Hill?”</p>
<p>How is this possible? I had a heavy course load of classes my freshman year, with professors of every shape and size. They were smart and interesting, and for the most part, at least somewhat arrogant. Professor Stratford is all those things…and more. He’s simply more. More handsome, more mysterious. More playful as he nips at my lower lip.</p>
<p>“I asked you a direct question, Ms. Hill. Don’t make me punish you.”</p>
<p>My eyes widen. It’s not an entirely fake break in my voice. “What kind of punishment?”</p>
<p>“Let’s see,” he says, tugging my T-shirt off, leaving me in my bra. The starkness is enough to make my cheeks burn. He’s fully clothed while I’m shirtless. “For the first offense, I wouldn’t be too harsh. Then again, we can’t have disruptive students, can we?”</p>
<p>I thought his fist in my hair had been perverse.</p>
<p>That holding me up against the window had been a wild form of desire.</p>
<p>This is far worse.</p>
<p>And far better.</p>
<p>At least my body thinks so, becoming hot and clenched, swollen around nothing, hungry to have him inside me again, thrusting and thrusting the ache away.</p>
<p>“I tried to behave,” I tell him, surrendering to the game. Surrendering to him. “I tried to be a good student. It’s just that you were so…distracting.”</p>
<p>That earns me a dark chuckle. Large, strong hands undress me with calm expediency, as if stacking books or finding the right page. With both care and anticipation.</p>
<p>At this moment I’m the worn pages of an old copy of Romeo and Juliet.</p>
<p>He thumbs through my pages.</p>
<p>“You’d blame your professor for your own lack of focus?”</p>
<p>I gasp at his touch, low and intimate. It’s too much, and I scoot back to get away from him. That only lands me on the edge of his desk, smooth wood cool beneath my bare ass. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”</p>
<p>“Extra credit,” he says, musing. “Perhaps an oral report would suffice.”</p>
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dangerous romance. Her books have sold over one million copies. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, sweet dogs, and evil cat.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.skyewarren.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5339130.Skye_Warren" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/skyewarren" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/skye_warren" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/skyewarrenbooks/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="http://www.skyewarren.com/newsletter/" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-17422857516972894992024-03-24T08:00:00.021-04:002024-03-24T08:00:00.143-04:00Harleigh Sinclair and the Ice Crusade (Harleigh Sinclair, #2) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1742285751697289499#">Harleigh Sinclair and the Ice Crusade </a></strong><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1742285751697289499#">(Harleigh Sinclair, #2)</a> </b>By<br />Tamara Grantham<br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 5, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1742285751697289499#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Paranormal, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>Finding lost artifacts is my specialty, but when an Inuit artifact is hidden in the wilds of Alaska, finding it could be more difficult than I’ve bargained for.</i></p>
<p><i>My name is Harleigh Sinclair. I’ve been using my abilities as a Neotact to find ancient relics with special powers. After teaming up with a man named Jagg Ransom—a Crimson Knight with a mysterious past—we’re on the search for five lost artifacts with immense powers.</i></p>
<p><i>Our current quest takes us to a remote village in the Alaskan wilderness. But when we arrive, we’re greeted by angry villagers who blame us for the disappearance of one of their trackers. He’s been kidnapped by my former coworker, and the two are on the path to find the relic before us.</i></p>
<p><i>If we can’t find the relic first, the object will fall into the hands of an evil organization called the Blood Raiders. Worse, we’re not alone. The Inuit artifact is guarded by a giant beast of lore—one that would rather see us dead than accomplish our mission.</i></p>
<p><i>But failure isn’t an option. If the Blood Raiders succeed in obtaining the relic, they’ll use it in a plot to destroy the world as we know it.</i></p>
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<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>I stood at the doorway leading into the vaults of Mr. Walter Prescott’s most prized Neotact artifacts and debated how to steal one. Muted lights reflected over the black square of glass across from me. A hand scanner.</p>
<p>“No keypad. Right,” I said under my breath before pulling off my leather gloves. Air conditioning hummed from the vents of the high-rise tower in San Antonio’s downtown district, and I let the cool air wash over my exposed skin.</p>
<p>A cold shiver skittered down my spine, and I darted a glance at the dimly lit hallway stretching behind me. If things went south, it was my only escape. My new manager, King Khamron, had gotten me this far, but he’d stayed on the bottom floor near the building’s entrance to keep an eye out.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Shaking my head, I turned my attention to the scanner. The glass interface seemed to taunt me. My boss would kill me if I couldn’t break inside.</p>
<p>Why did it have to be a handprint scanner? Why couldn’t they use a no frills, super reliable—and easily hijacked—keypad?</p>
<p>As I concentrated, I sighed in frustration. A jolt of energy sparked through my fingertips. The electrical pulses had gotten stronger since I’d returned from Egypt two weeks ago, and I chalked it up to being exposed to the legendary ankh artifact. Darrell Brownstein, a convicted serial killer and Blood Raider, had planned to kill me with it, but instead, I’d used the ankh against him. He was dead now, along with a dozen of his followers.</p>
<p>Still, there were other Blood Raiders out there intent on taking the Neotact artifacts, which had led me to standing here at the vault of Walter Prescott, father of the famed Jagg Ransom, debating how to break in.</p>
<p>Jagg. I shook my head as an image of his ruggedly handsome face intruded on my memories. I hadn’t seen much of him since we’d returned from Egypt. A week ago, he’d told me he was traveling. Didn’t say where. Hadn’t even texted me since.</p>
<p>Long strands of brunette hair came loose from my ponytail and tickled my cheeks. As I pushed them away from my face, I once again attempted to concentrate on the hand scanner. Jagg Ransom was nothing but a distraction. The idea of turning around and telling King that I’d failed wasn’t a pleasant prospect.</p>
<p>I glanced up at the glass doors barring the vault. I could always break through the glass, but I was sure every security sensor in the building would start blaring the moment I did it.</p>
<p>No, I’d have to be creative about getting inside. I tapped my fingers on my lips, noticing the little electrical pulses popping at my skin like rubber bands. Odd that my powers were reacting this way after touching the ankh.</p>
<p><em>What if my ability isn’t just different? </em>I asked myself.<em> What if it’s more powerful?</em></p>
<p>With a deep inhale, I forced my doubts aside and placed my hand against the glass of the hand scanner. My heart raced, and I hoped the scanner couldn’t detect a person’s anxiety through its circuits. If so, I’d get fried in a heartbeat.</p>
<p>A yellow line glowed, starting at the top and moving down. I focused on sensing the last person’s hand that had touched the screen. Closing my eyes, I paid attention to the imprint of every swirl, every arch, every loop. Then, I sent a surge of energy into my hand, morphing it until it matched each of the previously used fingerprints.</p>
<p>I held my breath. If this didn’t work, and I got caught, I’d land in jail faster than I could blink.</p>
<p><em>Please work, please work</em>, I chanted under my breath. Sweat beaded on my brow as I stared at the scanner.</p>
<p>Maybe it had been Jagg’s father’s hand that had been here. Maybe it had been Jagg himself. With that thought, my heart gave a sudden leap, and I could only imagine how angry Jagg Ransom would be if he knew I was breaking into his father’s prized vault.</p>
<p><em>Concentrate</em>, I reminded myself, the yellow light still scanning up and down. A single beep chimed, and the light turned green. I released a pent-up breath. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the interior of the vault.<br />
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Tamara Grantham is the award-winning author of more than a dozen books and novellas, including the Olive Kennedy: Fairy World MD series, the Shine novellas, and the Twisted Ever After trilogy. Dreamthief, the first book of her Fairy World MD series, won first place for fantasy in INDIEFAB’S Book of the Year Awards, a RONE award for best New Adult Romance, and is a #1 bestseller on Amazon with over 200 five-star reviews. </p>
<p>Tamara holds a Bachelor’s degree in English from Lamar University. She has been a featured speaker at multiple writing conferences, and she has been a panelist at Comic Con Wizard World speaking on the topic of female leads. For her first published project, she collaborated with New York-Times bestselling author, William Bernhardt, in writing the Shine series.</p>
<p>Born and raised in Texas, Tamara now lives with her husband and five children in Wichita, Kansas. She rarely has any free time, but when the stars align and she gets a moment to relax, she enjoys reading fantasy novels, taking nature walks--which fuel her inspiration for creating fantastical worlds--and watching every Star Wars or Star Trek movie ever made. You can find her online at www.TamaraGrantham.com.</p>
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<a href="https://tamaragrantham.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8086515.Tamara_Grantham" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tamaraclairegrantham" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/TamaraGrantham" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authortamaragrantham" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@tamaragrantham" target="_blank">TikTok</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-14527764674075421882024-03-22T08:00:00.014-04:002024-03-22T08:00:00.135-04:00Current of Darkness <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1452776467407542188#">Current of Darkness</a> </strong>By Robert Brighton<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 19, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1452776467407542188#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Historical, Mystery<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>“Unforgettable female leads power this stellar historical mystery” (BookLife Reviews) by Robert Brighton, told with “writing that is on par with the cunning of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle” (Manhattan Book Review).</i></p>
<p><i>A swirling tale of industrial espionage, love, and betrayal, Current of Darkness follows aspiring sleuth Sarah Payne behind the sleek, honeymoon façade of Gilded Age Niagara Falls and into a shadowy demimonde of ruthless union bosses, saboteurs, and tycoons-including the powerful, handsome, and mysterious Charles Kendall, whose intentions toward Sarah are unclear.</i></p>
<p><i>Meanwhile, sultry widow Alicia Miller is set on taking charge of her murdered husband’s company-only to find herself pitted against the new majority owner, who has his own ideas about women in the world of men. But cunning and captivating Alicia has ideas, too-and will stop at nothing to come out on top.</i></p>
<p><i>Both women will have to find the courage and resourcefulness-and set aside their own simmering feud-to survive in this “winning story of action, sabotage, cutthroat business dealings, and women daring to be something new at the dawn of the American century” (BookLife Reviews).</i></p>
<p><i>A captivating, page-turning, and immersive tale of industrial espionage, love, and betrayal – set against the backdrop of the glittering Gilded Age. Current of Darkness will draw readers in, and hold them under, until its final, explosive pages.</i></p>
<p><em>Read the Avenging Angel Detective Agency Mysteries in any order.</em></p>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/208509005-current-of-darkness" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://amzn.to/4acxqmw" target="_blank">Amazon</a> / <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/current-of-darkness-robert-brighton/1144896964?ean=9798987696453" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>ALICIA MAKES AN OMELET</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Excerpted from Current of Darkness: Desire & Deceit in the Gilded Age</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>A Novel by Robert Brighton</strong><br />
<strong>© 2024 Copper Nickel, LLC. All Rights Reserved.</strong></p>
<p>When Alicia got back to the front door of Miller Envelope Company, damned if the thing wasn’t unlocked. She jerked the door open and saw none other than her Majority Owner, Howie Gaines, crossing the lobby, his foot almost to the first tread of the staircase.</p>
<p>“Howie!” she called, and he turned.</p>
<p>“Mrs. Miller,” he said. “I hope you weren’t waiting. I usually get here early.”</p>
<p>“We’ll talk about<em> </em><em>that</em> in a minute,” she said. “But you need to come with me first.”</p>
<p>He returned to the front door. “What’s wrong?” he said.</p>
<p>“Follow me,” she said, crooking a finger. Together they walked along the Division Street side of the building and back to the loading dock area. The cigarette smoker was sitting on the loading dock again, smoking another cigarette. When he spied Gaines, he stubbed out his smoke and jumped down. “Mr. Gaines,” he said. “Good morning.”</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Shevlin,” Gaines said. “Good morning to you.”</p>
<p>“Go get those other two men who were with you just now,” Allie said to Shevlin, waving the back of her hand in his direction. He eyed her and then glanced at Gaines, who nodded. Shevlin hopped up on the loading dock, still trailing smoke, and went into the depths of the factory, and reemerged with the lanky man and the other one in tow.</p>
<p>“What is this all about?” Gaines asked Alicia.</p>
<p>“Teaching a lesson,” she said as the two men shuffled onto the dock with Shevlin. Allie looked up at them. “Who are these men?” she said to Howie, who stood by looking puzzled.</p>
<p>“Utz, on the left, and Kiesler. They’re two of our best delivery men.”</p>
<p>“Mr. Shevlin, Mr. Utz, Mr. Kiesler,” Alicia said. “We weren’t properly introduced earlier. I’m Alicia Hall Miller. <em>Miller</em> as in <em>Miller Envelope</em>. You must know it—it’s your employer.”</p>
<p>The three men could almost be heard to swallow audibly. The lanky man, Kiesler, who seemed to occupy a leadership role, cleared his throat. “We’re sorry, ma’am, about . . . earlier. Didn’t know who you were.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Alicia said. “You’re <em>sorry</em>, then.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am,” Kiesler said.</p>
<p>“And you two? Are you sorry, as well?”</p>
<p>Utz and Shevlin nodded, somewhat sheepishly, mumbling assent.</p>
<p>“Well, good. Thank you for that,” she said. “Now, guess what else you are? In addition to ‘sorry’?”</p>
<p>The men looked back at her blankly.</p>
<p>“You’re <em>fired</em>,” she said. “All three of you. Right now. Go collect whatever shit you have in your lockers and get out.” She looked at her watch. “You have precisely two minutes to leave my property. If you don’t, you’ll wish you had. The chief of police owes me at least one favor.”</p>
<p>Gaines touched her arm. “Mrs. Miller,” he said under his breath, “a word?”</p>
<p>“What do you want?” she said, jerking her arm away. “These men were insufferably rude to me just a few minutes ago.”</p>
<p>“You can’t hire and fire people,” Howie said quietly, his face quite crimson. “You’re a minority owner. You don’t have the authority to—”</p>
<p>“I won’t make a habit of it, Gaines,” she said, “but I just <em>did</em> fire them, and fired they will remain. Now do not challenge me on this, or we’re going to have a very bad first day together.”</p>
<p>The three men were looking at Gaines and Alicia’s little sidebar conference. Gaines turned back to them. “You heard her,” he said. “You’re dismissed.”</p>
<p>The men muttered a few choice words and disappeared into the building to collect their belongings. Allie and Gaines trudged back to the front entrance.</p>
<p>“Those are—were—three of our best workers, you know,” he said to her as they mounted the staircase inside. “Do you know how difficult it is to replace good laborers?”</p>
<p>“You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs,” she said. “And do you know how difficult it is to replace customers? I don’t want anyone who represents our company to treat anyone in the way I was treated. It’s simply not acceptable. They merely picked on the wrong person today, but my guess is that they’re rude to everyone. And they’re the ones driving around delivering our product? Gaines, we need pleasant, polite people meeting our customers, not surly bastards like those three. And they’re lazy. Smokers are all lazy. Every last goddamn one of them.”</p>
<p>“Fine, fine,” Howie said, as they stood on the upper landing, outside their office. “I don’t disagree with you, but—”</p>
<p>“Then <em>don’t</em>,” Alicia said. “Don’t say, ‘I don’t disagree with you,’ and then begin disagreeing with me. I absolutely <em>loathe</em>that sort of thing. It reminds me of visitors who drop by and, after a few minutes, consult their watches and say, ‘Well, I’d better let you get back to your more pressing matters,’ or some such horseshit. <em>They’re</em> the ones with pressing matters, and they want to blame me for it. If I have pressing matters, I say so.”</p>
<p>Howie seemed perplexed.</p>
<p>“Do you understand, Gaines? It’s a simile. I’m drawing a comparison, so that you can understand what your new business partner hates.” One corner of her mouth rippled up.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, I understand.”</p>
<p>“Then you know what I would like to do? When you introduce me to the company today—the whole staff—I am going to emphasize that every person who works here is going to treat everyone as though he were a customer. Or she. Or they’ll be hitting the bricks, just like Shevlin and company.”</p>
<p>“People aren’t going to like that,” he said, working the lock of their office door and putting his hand on the doorknob.</p>
<p>“Isn’t that their hard luck. Oh, and by the way”—she put her hand over his on the knob—“these offices open at 7:30, sharp. Not 7:45, not between 7:35 and 7:30. We can’t expect anyone else to be punctual and attentive to their jobs if we’re not. People look at us and decide what they can get away with. We have excellent streetcars here in Buffalo, and broad sidewalks, and so there’s no cause to be late. None. Understand?”</p>
<p>Howie smirked at her. “You will understand, Mrs. Miller, I don’t plan to be lectured by a minority owner—”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>Alicia</em>,” she said. “Or just Miller. Like any other business partner. Not Mrs. Miller. I’m not calling you Mr. Gaines, you can depend on that.”</p>
<p>“As you wish, Miller,” he said. “Now may I please go into my office?”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>our </em>office, and yes, you may.”</p>
<p><br class="blank" /></p>
<img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2023/12/Robert.jpeg" style="display: inline-block; float: left; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px;" />
<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Award-winning author Robert Brighton is an authority on the Gilded Age, and a great believer that the Victorian era was anything but stuffy. In his Avenging Angel Detective Agency Mysteries, Brighton exposes the turbulence of the era - its passions, dreams, and disasters - against a backdrop of careful research on the places, sights, sounds, and smells of the time. </p>
<p>When he is not walking the streets in the footsteps of the Avenging Angels, sniffing out unsolved mysteries, Brighton is an adventurer. He has traveled in more than 50 countries around the world, personally throwing himself into every situation his characters will face - from underground ruins to opium dens - and (so far) living to tell about it. </p>
<p>A graduate of the Sorbonne, Paris, Brighton is an avid student of early 20th Century history and literature, an ardent and relentless investigator, and an admirer of Emily Dickinson and Jim Morrison. He lives in Virginia with his wife and their two cats. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://robertbrightonauthor.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7975296.Robert_Brighton" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.pinterest.ca/robertbrightonauthor/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/avengingangeldetectiveagency/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-82616345498744501512024-03-21T08:00:00.017-04:002024-03-21T08:00:00.131-04:00La Bella Luna<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/8261634549874450151#">La Bella Luna</a> </strong>By Nicole Sharp<br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 19, 2024<br />Buy Link: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/8261634549874450151#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>Can you really reject a surprise last-minute, all-expense paid trip to Italy from your sister? For Diana, a sensible CPA in Atlanta, you most certainly can.</i></p>
<p><i>But within the last week, Diana turned forty-five, got engaged, purchased a wedding cake and agreed to join her fiancé in another state where his current work project has been extended for several months.</i></p>
<p><i>Diana’s younger sister, Harper, uses these uncharacteristic life changes as proof that Diana definitely can meet her in Italy. Besides, Harper’s already cleared the trip with Diana’s boss and fiancé. So begrudgingly, Diana agrees to go.</i></p>
<p><i>Little did she know that her whole world would be turned upside down the second she stepped foot on Italian soil.</i></p>
<p><i>As Diana falls deeper into Italy’s culture, countryside and cuisine, she reconnects with the ghosts of her past and reignites passions she thought had long been extinguished – proving that life and love are full of phases.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>Navigating the tight space, Diana found a small table in the back of the café, where she could see people exiting into the arrival area.</p>
<p>She wasn’t sure where the thought or even the motivation came from, but she pulled out her phone, chose the camera app, held up the cup and took a selfie.</p>
<p>She carefully put the cup down and looked at the picture; actually thought about deleting it, but then on a whim, posted it to her account that Harper insisted she <em>needed</em> to set up for this trip. And why the hell not?</p>
<p>“Pisa, Italy. First espresso,” she wrote and posted the picture.</p>
<p>She took a few sips, closing her eyes to savor the bitter hot loveliness.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Finally, a message from Harper came in, demanding Diana call her right away. This was why she’d activated an international calling plan for her phone.</p>
<p>Diana excitedly grinned when Harper picked up on the first ring and exclaimed. “You must be nearby!”</p>
<p>“Well …” Harper drew out the word, “Lu, you have the itinerary, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I printed it off before I left and it’s on my phone. Where are you?”</p>
<p>“Happy engagement!” Harper sang.</p>
<p>“Harper …” Diana laughed and looked around the part of the airport she could see, as if her younger sister would appear at any moment.</p>
<p>“Look, if I told you the truth you wouldn’t have gone, and you <em>needed t</em>o go; Hell, if anyone needs a vacation it’s you.”</p>
<p>“Harper,” Diana’s heart began to thump wildly in her chest, “where are you?”</p>
<p>In almost a whisper, Harper answered, “New York.”</p>
<p>Diana turned so no one could see her anger. She cupped a hand over the receiver of her phone. “What the hell do you mean you’re in New York?”</p>
<p>“I couldn’t afford to pay for both of us. But I wanted you to have something different … I wanted to get you out of the house before you got married. I wanted you to see … more, something bigger, something inspiring before you got married.”</p>
<p>“Harper,” Diana choked out in disbelief.</p>
<p>“I wanted to get you out of your fucking comfort zone,” Harper admitted, with all the loving passion she could.</p>
<p>Diana was certainly out of her comfort zone now, that was for sure, and she’d be damned if she was going to stay in a foreign country by herself. “I’m not staying here alone,” she hissed. “You got me into this Harper, you need to get me a return ticket and get me out of this. Now.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Then I need to go, I need to figure out how to get home.”</p>
<p>“No. Please. You have ten days paid vacation in Italy. Do you know how many people <em>dream </em>of something like that?”</p>
<p>“Harper.” Diana’s throat was closing with the urge to cry.</p>
<p>“Luna, if you can’t figure out how to do this for yourself, then do this for <em>me</em>.“ Harper’s voice hitched with the same emotion. “Please Lu, you <em>deserve</em> something like this. You deserve to see something beautiful. You deserve to … sit in a Piazza in a world-famous café and sip an espresso. You deserve to be moved to tears by a painting.“ It was Harper who was crying now. “Jesus, Diana, you deserve to stand in the middle of Rome and be inspired. I understand this is the scariest thing anyone has ever asked you to do, I get that it’s a scary ass thing that<em> I</em> am asking you to do, but please … <em>please</em>, if you can’t do this for yourself, then do it for <em>me</em>.”<br />
<br class="blank" /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Legend has it that Nicole Sharp was born to hippies during an ice storm in Stone Mountain, Georgia. While confirmation of said events cannot be agreed upon, one fact is for certain, it was a Tuesday. </p>
<p>By age twelve, Nicole was sure of two things: 1) She wanted to be a writer and 2) She wanted to travel. She begged her parents to allow her to voyage alone to exotic lands. They permitted her to go from California to Boise, Idaho to visit a great-grandmother.</p>
<p>After muddling through the college years, Nicole graduated with a Bachelors in History (think Greeks and Romans). Why didn’t she major in English if she wanted to be a writer? There were better stories in history class. </p>
<p>Nicole is Italian. According to Ancestry.com it’s a rather low percentage, but she feels that she is at least 51% Italian. When she returned to the homeland, she fell in love with the Italian cappuccino, so much so that she studied the language until she was fluent; thus she could order the magical elixir herself: Posso avere un cappuccino, per favore!</p>
<p>Nicole’s first concert was to see the bluegrass group The Seldom Scene when she was a fifteen-year-old, thanks to her parent’s bluegrass phase. However, she never admits it, and instead tells everyone that They Might Be Giants, whom she saw in college, was her real first concert. </p>
<p>Her first car was a yellow Chevy Celebrity and her favorite job was working as a docent in a museum in an old mining town in Colorado. She has written extensively about both. </p>
<p>Visit NicoleSharpWrites.com for more entertainment.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://nicolesharpwrites.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22442002.Nicole_Sharp" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Nicolesharpwrites/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/nicolesharpwrites/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-25718009514077808692024-03-20T08:00:00.019-04:002024-03-20T08:00:00.138-04:00Angelbound Tales Volume 1 (Angelbound Tales, #1)<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2571800951407780869#"><strong>Angelbound Tales Volume 1 </strong><b>(Angelbound Tales, #1)</b></a> By Christina Bauer<br /><b>Published by: </b>Monster House Books<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 19, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2571800951407780869#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Fantasy, Young Adult<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>Love Myla Lewis? Don’t miss Angelbound Tales Volume One, a collection of five bonus stories from Myla’s world, including:</i></p>
<p><i>· Walker’s Love Connection, where Myla uncovers a secret about her honorary older brother </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
· Sharkie and Snickerdoodles, in which our heroine faces down an uber-evil ghoul in order to get her hands on (what else?) some damned fine cookies. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
· Wedding Bells, aka the story of a certain happy couple getting married. Havoc ensues in more ways than one!<br />
· Herbie and Baby Hotdogs, the tale of a quasi-demon whose ‘mortal sin power’ is gluttony. Consider yourself warned.<br />
· Saving Mrs. Pomplemousse, a mini-romance that explores the true meaning of ‘soul mates.’ Say it with me now: awwww!</i></p>
<p><i>Originally released in special editions, these many tales now unite in one master collection that spans print, ebook and audio formats! 42,000 words.</i></p>
<p><i>***Warning*** If you don’t like quirky indie authors, then you’ll hate the following disclaimer from my inner pirate: Shiver me tinders, if ye haven’t read Angelbound books one through three, then these tales’ll frustrate ye more’n a drunk goat on astroturf. Argh!</i></p>
<p><i>Now back to my regular pirate-free self: I hope these stories provide a little escape from reality because, let’s face it, we all need one these days </i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Walker’s Love Connection<br />
Myla</p>
<p>My tail and I <em>always</em> get along.</p>
<p>Until we don’t.</p>
<p>Take now, for instance. I drive my ancient station wagon, Betsy, through the many strip malls and weedy lots that make up Purgatory. My ride is an un-pimped junker whose radio stays eternally stuck on a polka station. As ‘Roll out the Barrel’ blares from Betsy’s tinny speakers, my tail jabs my shoulder in time to the music. This is its way of saying,<em> I’m not happy with our destination.</em></p>
<p>My tail loathes trips to the Ghoul-E-Mart.</p>
<p>“Come on,” I plead. “I promised Mom that I’d pick up milk from the Ghoul-E.” Technically, our overlords sell us something called <em>white liquid product</em>.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Saying that I’m only getting milk makes zero difference to my tail. Right now, it’s the star of its own little play called, Poke Myla’s Shoulder.</p>
<p><em>Jab, jab.</em></p>
<p>“We aren’t going to the Ghoul-E right away,” I explain. “We’ll hit the arena first.”</p>
<p>There’s only one arena in Purgatory—it’s where warriors like me fight evil souls and demons to the death. Is this an appropriate extra-curricular activity for a high school junior? Ah, no. But, that’s ghouls for you. Our overlords see their minions—meaning quasi demons like me—as the equivalent of pond scum.</p>
<p>My tail pauses for a moment as it considers a potential arena visit. Then, it acts in a way that says,<em> what a load of B-S.</em></p>
<p><em>Jab, jab, jab. </em></p>
<p>Clearly, my tail has trust issues. It doesn’t believe we’re going anywhere near the arena. And there are two reasons why I shouldn’t approach the gladiator games right now. First, it’s not my day to fight. Second, even when I <em>am</em> scheduled to go, I should only show up with my honorary older brother, a ghoul named Walker.</p>
<p>But I have plans, people.</p>
<p><br class="blank" /></p>
<img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2017/03/AB-Christina-Bauer-pic.jpg" style="display: inline-block; float: left; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px;" />
<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.<br />
Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.</p>
<p>Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/CBupdates</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://monsterhousebooks.com/authors/cbauer" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorBauer/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/CB_Bauer" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/christina_cb_bauer/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="http://monsterhousebooks.com/blog/category/christina" target="_blank">Blog</a> / <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/christina-bauer-481b12139/" target="_blank">LinkedIn</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-46156524547882599492024-03-19T08:00:00.019-04:002024-03-19T08:00:00.159-04:00Invocation (Days of Iron and Clay, #1) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/4615652454788259949#"><strong>Invocation </strong><b>(Days of Iron and Clay, #1)</b> </a>By Aileen Erin<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 19, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/4615652454788259949#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres:</b> Paranormal, Romance, Young Adult<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>From USA Today Bestselling Author Aileen Erin comes an all-new action-packed, romance-filled paranormal series.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>There are three things I know without question.</i></p>
<p><i>One: demons are real.</i></p>
<p><i>Two: humans make awful mistakes that get them in demonic trouble more often than you’d think.</i></p>
<p><i>And three: <strong>I’m the only one who can help them.</strong></i></p>
<p><i>I straddle the line between the mortal and spiritual realms every day. People might think they’re two different places, but they’re not. They lay on top of each other. It’s messy, and that’s why so many people need my help. Since I was little, I’ve been called all kinds of names—unusual, abnormal, even insane. Which is fitting, since they keep throwing me in to mental facilities. I’ve been in and out of them my entire life.</i></p>
<p><strong><i>But no matter what people say, no matter what I’m risking, I will always help those in need.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>Because there’s an endless war carrying on all around us, every minute of every day. One that can’t be seen by mortal eyes. But I can see it, the spiritual battle for mortal souls, and I’m working hard to make sure my father is on the losing side. He — Astaroth, Satan’s general— is why I can do this. He’s why I’m not normal. I can’t have friends, a life, or a boyfriend. I won’t be selfish enough to drag someone into this fight. But I’m not lonely. Not exactly. I have my mom. She’s my rock, my best friend, my partner. She helps me do what needs to be done, and she’s never afraid when it feels like I’m always afraid.</i></p>
<p><strong><i>Because I hear my father whispering my name each night, his taunts echoing through the spiritual realm. He’s hunting me, and I know the day will come when I must face him again.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>Every portal I open could be the one that finally pulls me back to Hell, and I wonder if I will brave enough, strong enough, good enough to fight him.</i></p>
<p><strong><i>My name is Samantha Catherine Lopez, and I am Nephilim. This is my story.</i></strong></p>
<p><em>**Fans of the Alpha Girls series will love this new series set in the same world, with a few familiar faces, but you DO NOT have to have read a single word of the Alpha Girls series to enjoy Samantha’s story.</em></p></blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>The heat from the fires of Hell were burning my feet. I needed to close the portal, but I needed to get up to the other side before I did.</p>
<p>And then there was a warmth—not like the burning heat from Hell—but something else—something soothing—and I knew what I had to do.</p>
<p>I had to get rid of the tie.</p>
<p>I couldn’t cut it—I’d tried that so many times—but I could shove it away. I could lessen its effects. I’d even burned it out once.</p>
<p>If it worked before, it could work now.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>I blocked everything out except for the feeling of the tie that bound me to my father. It was always there—a leash of fire that wrapped around my body, my soul—thicker than any other tie I’d seen before on a living person. But it wasn’t just a demon-mortal tie. It was a father-daughter tie.</p>
<p>The tie connecting us grew hotter, burning, and I focused everything I had on burning it out.</p>
<p>I let my outrage fuel me. The outrage of how this monster—<em>my father—</em>had hunted me my whole life, tortured my mother, dragged me to Hell, and made it impossible for me to have any kind of innocent childhood.</p>
<p>He’d robbed me over and over of everything good.</p>
<p>Not this time. He wouldn’t win this time.</p>
<p>He laughed. He actually laughed at me. “<em>I gave you life. I gave you your powers. Just as I give, I can take it all away.</em>”</p>
<p>No. I didn’t believe that.</p>
<p>And I wasn’t quitting. I wasn’t listening to him.</p>
<p>Screw him.</p>
<p>I pulled again, but it didn’t work. He started to say something about how I was a failure, but <em>screw him. Screw failing. Screw everything but sending him back to Hell.</em></p>
<p>But my mouth was dry and I wanted to throw up and my body was starting to feel weaker and my arms started to shake.</p>
<p>An evil, deep rumbling noise had fear skittering along my skin.</p>
<p>I was getting too tired, too quickly.</p>
<p>And then it clicked.</p>
<p>He wasn’t just controlling me. He was draining my strength through our tie.</p>
<p>Fast.</p>
<p>I had to be faster.</p>
<p>Quickly, as quick as I could, I pictured the tie knotting and pulling tight, cutting off my father’s influence. I pictured it again—forcing my will on the tie.</p>
<p>Knotted and pulled tight.</p>
<p>Knotted and pulled tight.</p>
<p>Slowly, with every knot, I felt my father’s control lessening. Just enough so that I could think and—</p>
<p><em>Where was Eli?</em></p>
<p>That one thought broke through.</p>
<p>It was a tiny crack, but it was enough.</p>
<p>“<em>Eli!” </em>I screamed along the spiritual realm as loud and with as much force as I could. I tried to pull myself up, but my arms were too tired.</p>
<p>The demons below me started screaming and moving faster. They knew who I’d called, and they knew what he could do to them.</p>
<p>Something hit my feet.</p>
<p>I jerked my leg away, and my hands slipped and—</p>
<p>Phoenix’s face suddenly above mine.</p>
<p>He was now hanging halfway through the portal. The only thing keeping me from dropping was his grip on my wrists. “<em>Samantha</em>. <em>Please! </em>Can you hear me?” His voice was deep and calm as it washed over me.</p>
<p>“I can now. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Pull me up. Now. <em>Hurry</em>.”</p>
<p>“On the count of three. Okay?” He smiled. Even while all this insanity was happening—he smiled and it calmed me again and gave me confidence.</p>
<p>Why? I couldn’t say. But it did.</p>
<p>“One…Two…Three.” He pulled a little, and then all of a sudden, jerked me up, and I was lying on top of him.</p>
<p>“Thanks.” I gasped out the word and let my body relax against his for a second.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome.”<br />
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Aileen Erin is half-Irish, half-Mexican, and 100% nerd–from Star Wars (prequels don’t count) to Star Trek (TNG FTW), she reads Quenya and some Sindarin, and has a severe fascination with the supernatural. Aileen has a BS in Radio-TV-Film from the University of Texas at Austin, and an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She lives with her husband in Los Angeles, and spends her days doing her favorite things: reading books, creating worlds, and kicking ass.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.aileenerin.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7190350.Aileen_Erin" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/aelatcham/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/aileen_erin" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/aileenerin/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2344264954714750516#"><strong>The Helping Heart </strong><b>(Sisters of Stella Mare, #4)</b></a> By Annie M.<b> </b>Ballard<br /><b>Publication date</b>: March 15, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2344264954714750516#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Women’s Fiction<br />Summary:</p><blockquote><p><strong><i>Helen comes home and everything should be wonderful. Even if she’s returning due to a divorce. But there is more…</i></strong></p>
<p><i>The Madison sisters, once close, are suddenly alienated as oldest Helen returns to Stella Mare. Her desire to help everyone includes keeping them at a distance, so her own secrets stay private. Her plan backfires, making her persona non grata and upsetting her father. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>To keep the peace with Dad, she suggests a group activity: the four sisters will hike the Fundy Footpath, an iconic and challenging backpacking trip along the Bay of Fundy. Why not? They’re young, they’re strong, and besides, they’re Madisons.</i></p>
<p><i>Despite each sister’s reservations, the desire to reconnect pulls them into this adventure. The hike is arduous and not for the faint of heart. Daunting cliffs, deep forests, rushing rivers and unpredictable tides accompany the gorgeous views, stunning sunrises, and the sheer power of nature. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>The challenges, though shared, fracture things further, and even Helen’s campfire confession doesn’t heal the breach. But when crisis happens, Helen is called to rise to the occasion and be the sister they need her to be.</i></p>
<p><strong><i>Returning to Stella Mare was hard. Regaining her place in the family was harder. Come home to Stella Mare with Helen, as she, Rett, Evie and Dorie learn once again how</i> to be sisters.</strong></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“Time to burn some of those calories,” Helen called out. “Let’s get going.”</p>
<p>Evie cast her a curious gaze. “Is there something we’re hurrying for? You should let us know, Helen.”</p>
<p>She narrowed her eyes. “We need to get going. We’re like sitting ducks here.”</p>
<p>Rett laughed. “We’re nobody’s target. We started early, we already did the tidal crossings, so we are not worried about tides right now, and we have time to take a break if somebody is vomiting. Really.”</p>
<p>Helen shook her head and walked away toward the tree line. Where was that wolf? And why couldn’t her sisters take direction?</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Annoyed, she kept gazing into the woods, though she kept an ear tuned toward the conversations behind her. Soon enough, everybody got ready to go again, and Evie called to her. “We’re all set, Helen.” She huffed a little as she headed back, chin held high.</p>
<p>Evie started off beside Dorie, the two easily chatting. Rett waited for Helen. “Tone it down a bit,” she advised.</p>
<p>“Are you bitching about me, too?” Helen snapped.</p>
<p>“Like that,” Rett said noncommittally. “Take it down a notch.”</p>
<p>“You’re so helpful,” she sniped. “Like anybody even notices me.”</p>
<p>“Everybody notices you.” Rett’s tone was correcting. “Especially when you’re being a royal pain in the neck. Tone it down. Nobody’s here to make a fool of you.”</p>
<p>Helen, shocked, took the impact of those words on her chest. <em>Nobody’s here to make a fool of you.</em> She had nothing to say.</p>
<p>Rett nudged her with an elbow. “Come on. Let’s make it a good day for a hike.”</p>
<p>She nodded tightly and followed.</p>
<p>Hiking made her brain run faster. Rett’s words rang in her memory. Nobody’s here to make a fool of you, Helen.</p>
<p><em>I don’t need anyone to do that. I’ve done it myself, more than once. A lot more than once.</em></p>
<p>Despite her tired body, her mind was super-charged as thoughts, memories and feelings flooded her. She couldn’t outrace them, and even the challenging terrain didn’t distract her, though after a series of switchbacks, landing at the brook felt like an accomplishment. Or at least a break from her thoughts.</p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Annie M. Ballard writes about women and family ties in the small villages that feel like home. With one foot in the Canadian Maritimes and the other in New England, she digs deep into the lives of her characters. When she’s not writing, she’s happily baking, gardening, powerlifting and trying to make friends with every dog in her neighbourhood.</p>
<p>Annie’s stories include strong women living real lives, good men trying to do better, and always a happy ending.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://anniemballard.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21745788.Annie_M_Ballard" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100071779791861" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/anniemballard/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/annie-m-ballard" target="_blank">Bookbub</a></p>
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<p><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/4389504797194069783#">Savage Passion (Savage Bloods MC)</a> </b>By Ember Sparks<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 15, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/4389504797194069783#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres:</b> Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i><strong>He’s been given a second chance…</strong> </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><br />
Steven “Slade” Graham, Vice President of The Savage Bloods MC, just got a full pardon after spending seven years in prison. Only, he has no idea who got him out. Or why. And then he comes face to face with the one man he hasn’t seen in years: Harland Carter—president of The Savage Bloods and Steven’s former best friend. Turns out, Harland needs Steven’s help, and it’s a matter of life or death.</i></p>
<p><i><strong>She vowed to never get involved…</strong> </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><br />
Since the death of her twin brother and the creation of The Savage Bloods MC, Cassandra “Cassie” Carter swore she’d never have anything to do with that club—or her brother. And definitely not the man who took her virginity and then left her for said club. But then Steven crashes back into her life, and everything comes crumbling down around her.</i></p>
<p><i><strong>She’s the target…</strong> </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><br />
A madman intent on seeking revenge against The Savage Bloods MC club has his sights set on Cassie. Now, she has no choice but to get involved with the club and entrust her safety to them. To make matters worse, Steven isn’t just protecting her life, he’s stealing her heart. Again. And if she can’t trust him, she’ll end up dead.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p><em>Cassie…</em></p>
<p>Leaning against the bar is a man. A very sexy, very muscular, very dangerous looking man. Dark, shoulder length hair. Icy blue eyes. Jeans with a bulging crotch. Black T-shirt that stretches deliciously across his shoulders and chest. My heart races at the sight of him, but more so because he’s staring right at me.</p>
<p>But then I notice he’s also wearing a goddman kutte covered with the Savage Bloods insignia. Because of course he’s part of the club. A beer bottle is pinched between his fingers, and he’s standing there like he owns this place. Cocky arrogance radiates off him, and he clearly owns that. He’s 100 percent pure male. Pure trouble. And one million percent not my type of guy.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Yet, I can’t seem to stop staring at him. He’s everything Ryan isn’t, and that excites me in a way I don’t like. I don’t look away, and neither does he. There’s something familiar about him, though, and I narrow my eyes, studying him. Do I know him? That wouldn’t be so far-fetched considering I’ve met everyone in the Savage Bloods at least once before. Still, something nags at the back of my mind.</p>
<p>“He’s staring at you,” Becca shouts over the music, jerking me from my thoughts. “You should go talk to him.”</p>
<p>“No.” I shake my head.</p>
<p>Turning away from his heated stare, I focus on dancing with Becca, but I can feel his gaze on me, feel the way he’s undressing me with his eyes, devouring me.</p>
<p>Maybe Becca’s right. Maybe I need to take the plunge and go talk to him. Doing so will certainly get my mind off Ryan. But damn… I’m not sure I can handle a guy like that. He’s so hard and rough and a tad scary. Not to mention, he’s part of the club, and I swore never to get involved with that life. Just because I’m nursing a broken heart doesn’t mean I need to go catch a raging case of the stupids.</p>
<p>And that man could make any woman stupid.<br />
<br class="blank" /></p>
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Ember Sparks is a passionate steamy romance author who draws inspiration from personal experiences and the world around her. Her stories are full of heat, love, and the unlikely connections that form between people. As a writer, Ember uses her vivid imagination to transport readers to new worlds and leave them wanting more.</p>
<p>With a fiery passion for storytelling, Ember’s writing style is designed to inspire readers and show them that joy, love, and passion can be found even in the most challenging times. Through her work, she encourages others to find their own escape, whether it’s through writing, reading, or embracing life to the fullest.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://embersparksromance.start.page/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/36617341.Ember_Sparks" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/EmberSparksAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/embersparksauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@embersparksromance" target="_blank">TikTok</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/ESparksRomance" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://dl.bookfunnel.com/jtht8umien" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-39029565712087956962024-03-16T08:00:00.019-04:002024-03-16T08:00:00.135-04:00Unleashed (Unraveled Renegade, #3) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3902956571208795696?hl=en#"><strong>Unleashed </strong><b>(Unraveled Renegade, #3)</b> </a>By Ren Alexander<br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 12, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3902956571208795696?hl=en#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>Battered and bruised, Greg Rodwell struggles without his bride.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>I married her as a favor. Then she dumped me out of spite.</i></p>
<p><i>All her life, Simone’s control-freak father fed her money as long as she played by his rules, even forcing her to sign a contract and punishing her if she took her beloved stepfather’s last name. I devised a plan and offered her my own contract, marrying Simone so she could keep the money and dump her dad’s name. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>Although our relationship had been as frenemies, our marriage transformed into the real deal. I fell in love with being Simone’s devoted husband. And with her. I thought. Until that night, a colossal argument shattered us. Like a trashy country song, she bailed on me and our marriage in my pickup truck and skipped town. It hurt like hell, but I had to honor our vows and try to win her back.</i></p>
<p><i>Returning to Richmond, I watch Simone parading her loser dates as if it’s a sport. I start dating to help myself let go. But things hit a snag when Simone’s father shows up to stay with her for a week. She pleads with me to help her tell her father about our breakup instead of him discovering it and revoking her funds. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>At first, watching her squirm amuses me, but I’m not a total jackass. I’ll save her once more, but this time, I’m calling the shots, refusing to suffer through another painful breakup. Unfortunately, this infuriates Simone, but now she’s stuck with a husband for a week. Since I’m homeless, crashing with her works out. However, playing out our marriage in front of her father, stuff between Simone and me soon gets real. Way too real.</i></p>
<p><i>Dating to avoid Simone only worsens things because of my intense attraction to her. She’s an addiction no rehab can fix. Yet, when she reciprocates the obsession, I freak out and push her too far all over again. But this time, the massive fallout changes us forever.</i></p>
<p><em>You’ll achieve maximum shock and awe if the Wild Sparks Series and The Keys to Jericho are read before this series.</em></p>
<p><i><strong>WARNING</strong>: Though Greg Rodwell is an office clown, his Unraveled Renegade series contains profuse graphic language, explicit sexual content, violence, and dark content not suitable for sensitive audiences. Reader discretion is highly advised.</i></p></blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>Again, I open the door without a preview. It’s not like I would turn away a serial killer or the Grim Reaper.</p>
<p>My eyes land on a throat. As they travel up, they glide over Greg Rodwell’s sexy face. I straighten with a gasp and blink away the surprise, hoping I’m not hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>His gaze lands on my tits, and my hardening nipples beg for him to notice. I wish I regretted taking off my bra, but I don’t. Greg’s eyes meet mine, and instead of looking away, I hold them with mine. I’ve stared into his eyes while making love, but now they’re indifferent. His voice breaks my staring. “I forgot my key.”</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“For?”</p>
<p>As I grapple with not knowing what to do, Greg pushes past me into the entryway. From the living room, my father watches us. Greg waves and then faces me, mumbling, “Let’s get this shit done.”</p>
<p>Through my teeth, I whisper, “But why? You said—”</p>
<p>He slices his hand through the air, mumbling, “Five minutes is all you get.”</p>
<p>I nod, stunned. Greg isn’t letting me do this alone. I could kiss him—but I won’t. “I’ll do the talking,” I mouth, and Greg shrugs. He follows me into the living room. Instead of sitting down with me on the couch, Greg offers my dad a handshake.</p>
<p>Going along with the last-minute plan, I say, “Dad, this is Greg. Greg, this is my dad, Marc Garrison.” Dad doesn’t stand up and hesitates before returning the handshake.</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Garrison. Like South Park, huh? Where is Mr. Hand?” Greg snorts, and I cringe as my dad wrinkles his nose like he smells rotten cheese.</p>
<p>“It’s <em>Dr</em>. Garrison. I thought Simone told you I’m an orthodontist?”</p>
<p>Greg releases Dad’s hand and steps back, slipping his hand into his dark hair, and it mesmerizes me. I hate that. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yeah. I fell on my head a lot as a kid.” <em>Jesus Christ, Greg.</em></p>
<p>I shoot Greg a look, but he sits on the couch without looking at me. And then I see he’s wearing his silver wedding ring. My heart stops. Dead. Out of order. Gone for good. I don’t know whether to be shocked or furious.</p>
<p>Dad’s horror escalates. “I’d also like to say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ll see.”</p>
<p>Greg mutters, “I get it. I’m not for everyone.”</p>
<p>I sit beside Greg. His citrusy musk cologne makes my mouth water, and I lick my lips again, no doubt looking like a thirsty lizard in a desert. Narrowing his eyes at me, Dad sighs as if I failed out of school. “I was thinking you were a figment of my daughter’s imagination. Maybe even a scam.”</p>
<p>Greg smirks and my heart flutters because I drank too much caffeine. “No figment. I’m as real as a heart attack.” Classy.</p>
<p>We sit in uncomfortable silence, with Dad studying Greg more than he’s ever cared to learn about me. “Simone tells me you work at a gas station.” No, no, no. Greg is so going to ruin this.</p>
<p>Tripping over confusion and his words, Greg laughs but then frowns. He starts, stops, and sighs several times before saying, “Uh, I sure do.” My heart surges, but his clenched fists on his knees tell me he’ll never help me again.</p>
<p>My dad throws his hand out and then touches his mustached lip before asking, “Where have you been, though? It’s evident you don’t live here.”</p>
<p>Before Greg answers, I say, “Dad, please.”</p>
<p>Greg sits back against the couch and rests his folded hands between his thighs. “I’ve been around. It’s like this…” He sighs, and it both scares and thrills me. “I’ve been staying with a friend. Simone and I had an argument.”</p>
<p>My father chuckles like he heard a nonsensical knock-knock joke. “It’s obvious, but that shouldn’t explain why you don’t live with Simone as man and wife. Or are you hoping she’ll be the breadwinner? Since her father is wealthy, you may see pumping gas and cleaning the soda machine as a joy ride.”</p>
<p>Surprised even he would slither that low, I gasp, “Dad, that’s not fair! Greg isn’t here for you to critique his life!”</p>
<p>“Now, Simone, I will not tolerate a man you just met and married shirking his duties. As a wife, you should know this.”</p>
<p>I shrink against the couch but keep my thigh against Greg’s. It comforts me a little. Greg clears his throat. “I’m sorry. My duties?”</p>
<p>My father’s eyes narrow as he locks his gaze on my ex, his words dripping with annoyance. “I expect you to act like a husband.”</p>
<p>Greg pushes up his jacket sleeves, and I bite my lip. Christ, it’s hot in here. Greg’s voice is a sharp razor blade slicing through the unbearable friction. “Oh, really?”</p>
<p>I twitch my leg against him, bouncing his against mine. I mumble, “Greg…”</p>
<p>He waves his hand to shut me up. “No way. Your dad needs to hear this. We shouldn’t be ashamed.”</p>
<p>“Huh?” I sit up and angle toward him.</p>
<p>“I’m trying to be a husband to Simone. We have a lot on our plates, but to be honest, I’ve been putting way more effort between the sheets—”</p>
<p>“What?” I shriek, forgetting my dad is watching. We’re taking on water and sinking fast. I didn’t even wear a cute bikini.</p>
<p>Greg sails on, leaving me to doggy paddle. “But I’m not a machine. It’d be nice to slow down and not perform on demand.” As I remain frozen in the water, watching the Titanic sink, Greg motions toward me with a laugh. “Come on. Your daughter isn’t ugly. But sometimes all I want to do is focus on our desire and not on making Greg Jr. It’s not that I can’t do it, but I’m worn out. You know?”</p>
<p>The horror coursing through my body stabs me from every direction. I grab Greg’s arm, but he leans closer and mock whispers, “Shh, baby. Your dad needs to hear all this.” I fucking hate that I notice him calling me <em>baby</em> and miss it more than wearing pink.</p>
<p>I shove his arm to snap him out of the bullshit, but Greg grins at me. He knows I can’t refute our marriage status now…unless I dump him in front of my dad. And he’s beating me at my own game.<br />
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Ren Alexander writes steamy contemporary romance, including the Wild Sparks Series, and contributes to K. Bromberg’s Everyday Heroes Series. Writing her romance novels with a hefty dose of reality, the good and bad, Ren embraces the gritty and raw with a side of funny and crazy. No matter what, there is always an explosion. You never know what you'll get in her mixed bag. </p>
<p>Relocating from Detroit, Michigan, Ren lives in Kentucky with her husband, two daughters, and two cats.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://renalexanderauthor.com/index.html" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7275138.Ren_Alexander" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/RenAlexanderAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/author_renalexander/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ren-alexander" target="_blank">Bookbub</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-5289308908228637452024-03-15T08:00:00.000-04:002024-03-15T08:00:00.258-04:00King of Nothing (Kingmaker Series, #1) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/528930890822863745#">King of Nothing (Kingmaker Series, #1)</a> </b>By<b> Paula Dombrowiak</b><br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 12, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/528930890822863745#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>I’m not the sort of girl you take home to meet your parents.</i></strong></p>
<p><strong><i>But our marriage of convenience is the perfect revenge…</i></strong></p>
<p><i>I find Darren Walker drowning himself in expensive whiskey. Young, handsome, and educated, he’s the playboy son of a U.S. Senator, and his father’s sudden death has hit him harder than expected.</i></p>
<p><i>When he offers me millions of dollars to marry him, I want to tell him that I can’t be bought.</i></p>
<p><i>But of course, that’s not true, and Darren is prepared to play dirty.</i></p>
<p><i>He’s made it his life’s mission to squander his potential in order to avoid living in his father’s shadow. But if he wants to see even one cent of his trust fund, he needs a wife. And not just any wife will do.</i></p>
<p><i>Ours will purely be a marriage of convenience, and I’m going to be his final, perfect revenge.</i></p>
<p><i>My name is Evangeline Bowen, and I’m an escort to the rich and powerful. But soon I’ll be the wife of a Senator’s son, who thinks he knows all my dark secrets.</i></p>
<p><i>All of them, except for one…</i></p>
<p><em><strong>King of Nothing is the first book in The Kingmaker trilogy, a steamy marriage of convenience romance full of political scandal. The books must be read in order for the best reader experience.</strong></em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“Your parents are dead, and you trash a hotel room.” His blue eyes look past me as he adds on, “And apparently fuck hookers.”</p>
<p>I follow his gaze to see Evangeline coming from the bedroom, her hair still wet and dripping onto her shoulders while she holds her shoes.</p>
<p>“What makes you think I’m a hooker?” she asks as she slips on her heels.</p>
<p>Rausch assesses her carefully, his mouth pressed firmly in a tight line. “An educated guess.”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ, Darren. Do you know how much this will cost to fix?” Rausch gestures dramatically to the trashed room. I notice the TV mounted on the wall is cracked, and I just now remember that I hit it on my way out of the room last night, looking down at my knuckles to notice the bruises only just now.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Just have the hotel send me the bill.”</p>
<p>“Money is not going to fix this,” Rausch yells, “especially when you don’t have any.”</p>
<p>“You’re not making any sense.”</p>
<p>Alistair straightens. “Can we just calm down?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think either of you fuckups really understand the gravity of the situation,” Rausch spits, pinching his eyebrows as if he’s talking to two disorderly students instead of two grown men. “Your parents are dead, and not only is that a difficult situation for Congress, but it also means your money – your <em>parent’s</em> money,” he makes a point to say, “is tied up in probate.”</p>
<p>“Can you – just stop saying that?” I throw my hands up.</p>
<p>“That your parents are dead? No, because the sooner you wake up and join reality, the better.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean, there’s no money?”</p>
<p>“The money is locked up in probate.”</p>
<p>“What the fuck do you mean, probate?” I question, staring at Rausch with my chest heaving.</p>
<p>“You went to law school; did they not teach you about probate law?” Rausch doesn’t rattle easily, that’s why he got the reputation he has. Unbreakable, formidable, and effective – <em>The Kingmaker</em>.</p>
<p>Of course I know about probate law, and that means my parents money could be frozen anywhere from six months to two years.</p>
<p>I’m mad at Rausch for being the only one I have right now. I’m mad at myself for being such a fuckup. I’m mad at the pilot for crashing the helicopter. I’m mad that I feel <em>anything</em>.</p>
<p>“Is that what you think I’m worried about?” I ask him.</p>
<p>“You have worried about no one else but yourself, <em>Darren</em>, your whole life,” Rausch lectures. “What do you think your mother would say if she saw you right now?” His eyes travel south, and then over to Evangeline, who is still standing next to me, eyeing the exit that is still blocked by the security guard.</p>
<p>“This is what I’m talking about.” Rausch points to the overturned table. “It’s exactly why your parents put stipulations in their wills.”</p>
<p>I pull on the shorts and toss my hair out of my eyes. “Stipulations?” I ask, cautiously.</p>
<p>“Yes, Darren. If you weren’t being such a fucking child, you would listen to me,” Rausch continues, and he’s right. I don’t want to listen to him, but he has me in a stranglehold right now, like a boa constrictor around my neck. Worse yet, he knows it.</p>
<p>My father rarely discussed business with me, and he certainly didn’t make me privy to his will or his wishes, should something happen to him. He certainly wasn’t anticipating dying in a helicopter crash with my mom and leaving me alone to figure things out.</p>
<p>When I look at Rausch I take that back, because my father did anticipate such things, he just put Rausch in charge—not me. He never would have trusted me to handle his estate. Right now, I’m at Rausch’s mercy, so I keep my mouth shut while the anger burns through me.</p>
<p>“You don’t get any money until you’re thirty years old,” Rausch says, and then after a dramatic pause, adds, “or married.”</p>
<p><em>Jesus fuck!</em></p>
<p>He’ll make me beg, give me condescending lectures, and torture me for the next three fucking years. My heart sinks into my stomach, and Rausch can see it all on my face – the realization that he owns me. A satisfied smirk appears on his mouth.</p>
<p>Perhaps if I had been the good son, stayed out of trouble, listened to him more, prayed at the altar of Emerson, who he loved so fucking much, maybe then he wouldn’t have put Rausch in charge of his affairs.</p>
<p>I narrow my eyes at Rausch because I’ve never been known to back down from a fight, and I still have skin in this game. It’s an impulsive move, but dire situations require dire action. I grab Evangeline, pulling her to my side. “Well, isn’t it convenient that my fiancée is right here?”</p>
<p><br class="blank" /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.pauladombrowiak.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20529493.Paula_Dombrowiak" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/3927865483902992/" target="_blank">Facebook Group</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/PDombrowiak" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/paula-dombrowiak" target="_blank">Bookbub</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/pauladombrowiakauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://facebook.us10.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=4c7df62fd27f859a1385296d1&id=e672b7110e" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-55105477707172593442024-03-14T08:00:00.017-04:002024-03-14T08:00:00.138-04:00A Seduction of Dreams and Nightmares<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/5510547770717259344#">A Seduction of Dreams and Nightmares </a></strong>By A.J. Locke<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 26, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/5510547770717259344#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Paranormal, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>They say humans are dreams and Fiends are nightmares. For though Fiends have magic, beauty, and power, their immortal lives are restricted. Vampires must sate their blood lust. Wytches will crumble to dust when their magic runs out. Shapeshifting Haunts must keep their vicious beasts caged. Incubi and succubi cannot indulge in carnal pleasure without dire consequences.</i></p>
<p><i>Novari is a human who bartends for Luccero, an alluring incubus and the star of her fantasies. She can’t have Luc, but she does have Keo, who also wouldn’t mind Luc’s touch. Keo, who loathes being a vampire, is in pursuit of a fabled cure that will turn Fiends human. A cure highly in demand as many Fiends crave freedom from their burdened lives.</i></p>
<p><i>When an unexpected discovery about the cure’s location puts Novari and Keo in danger, they take refuge in Luccero’s sprawling manor. There, they contemplate how to stay safe … and succumb to each other’s seduction.</i></p>
<p><i>The pleasure she finds with Luc and Keo makes Novari want to hide away forever, but when the danger zeroes in, they’ll have to figure out how to overcome it before the dream they’ve found together becomes a nightmare.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“Cursed,” came Luc’s soft voice. “As Fiends we consider ourselves cursed, nightmares. Humans, fragile and finite as they may be, are the dreams. They are born, they grow, they change, they have choices we will never have about who they want to be and what feeds their appetites. But we, everlasting and unchanging until the moment of our demise, have little choice. I can never travel far by myself lest I have no means to sate my Lust. I came into existence as an incubus with a specific way I must live, and that is all I can ever be.”</p>
<p>His words reminded me of the conversation with Keo last night and the way he’d questioned his urges because he couldn’t stop wondering if everything about him was decided before he even existed.</p>
<p>“I don’t think I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about things from your perspective. I feel bad about that.”</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Luc chuckled. “Humans are selfish beings; I do not fault you for it.”</p>
<p>“I’m not—”</p>
<p>“I meant it not as an insult,” he cut in, “you are selfish because you know your time is limited. That there is an inevitable end you cannot avoid, and though you wish for the years to take you into old age, you live with no idea if your next day will be your last. Thus, you focus on yourselves, your pursuits, your pleasures. You can pick up jobs, hobbies, lovers, and discard them as your mood fits because ‘life is short,’ no?</p>
<p>“You try to pull as much life from the world as you can because when you die, there is no coming back. Fiends can walk through centuries; we do not think of time the same way. Were two hundred of your friends to ask you to keep something of theirs in your care for the rest of your life you would say there was no way you could dedicate your life to taking care of things that do not belong to you. Things that would impede your ability to live your life on your terms.”</p>
<p>He raised his hand to indicate the greenhouse. “But for me? I said yes every single time a Fleurisse came to me. Because it was of no consequence to hold on to things that would remain as long as I. All I have is time, and thus, we endure the long years together.”</p>
<p>Luccero was far more perceptive and empathetic than I would have ever thought he was. In a few short hours I’d learned more about him than I’d ever known. Because all I’d seen when I looked at him was his beauty, all I’d felt was his charm and his lusty aura. But he was so much more than a creature of seduction. I was sure his long life was full of amazing stories. He could tell me something about every Fleurisse here, was probably knowledgeable about things I wouldn’t know the first thing about.</p>
<p>I badly wanted to know this side of him more.<br />
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>A.J. Locke is a young adult and adult fantasy author, and also writes and illustrates picture books. She is an artist of various mediums including oil and acrylic paint, and watercolor. When she’s trying to avoid her writing projects she can be found trying to make a dent in her TBR pile, playing video games, watching anime, baking, and chasing the ever elusive eight hours of sleep. A.J. is originally from Trinidad and Tobago and now resides in NYC.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.ajlockewrites.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6883907.A_J_Locke" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAJLocke" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/maqueripe" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authorajlocke" target="_blank">TikTok</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/art_by_ajlocke/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>GIVEAWAY!</strong><br />
1) Handmade book sleeve<br />
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4) Character art bookmarks: Luccero, Novari, Keovallen<br />
5) Character art prints: Luccero, Novari, Keovallen<br />
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7) Sticker sheet</p>
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1448392937062881101?hl=en#">Fiona’s Fury</a> </strong>By Roxy Blue<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 12, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1448392937062881101?hl=en#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>This chilling but hysterically sardonic thrill-ride is hard to put down. Smart, sexy, and deeply revelatory, it will send you on an enthralling emotional journey you won’t forget.</i></p>
<p><i>Fiona Turner, CEO of Fiona’s Flowers floral shop, hasn’t the time nor inclination to bother with men until she finally meets the face on the other end of the phone. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>Having remained friends, she never suspected her ex-husband, Quade, would morph into a terrifying, controlling, law-bending monster. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>When Fiona exhibits the first signs of wanting to move on in life, he threatens to take everything from her. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>A long weekend at a conference answers all of Fiona’s questions about floral supplier, Bo Thompson, except how she can possibly have him. She’ll never know what she’s missing unless she risks everything for love.</i></p>
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<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">GUEST POST:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><b>Do you recall how your interest in writing originated or did you always just know you</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><b>wanted to be a writer?</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">I was that kid who loved grade school creative writing assignments, and took it as an</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">opportunity to make my first attempts at writing something ‘adult’. The results of that were</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">incredibly dark at the time; one would have expected a budding young horror writer. All of my</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">creative writing teachers singled me out as a future author and were vocal about that.</span></p><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">As one of those kids with an early-developing hippocampus, which I’ve noticed a lot of</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">memoir-writers have, I began forming visual memories from at least some time in my second</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">year of life. Always having been a detail person, I dreamed of writing a memoir…which I largely</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">thought of as a way to process my childhood experiences and traumas. Later in life I was</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">encouraged by friends to write a book about my career as an exotic dancer. I wrote multiple</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">drafts of that book in my head, but somehow it never felt like the right time for me to sit down</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">and get serious about it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">Other than writing some poetry and creating a secret stash of erotica, I really didn’t do much</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">with writing until several years ago when I became autoimmune and began posting a detailed</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">blog about my experience of having Ankylosing Spondylitis. Meanwhile, I was beginning to</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">pursue copywriting as a new career when I found some articles about self-publishing romance. I</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">then found a short story contest put on by Romance Writers of America and decided to enter it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">It required 5,000 words and the deadline was in three days. I sat and tried my hand at romance</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">writing for the first time, hacked out and completely edited a beautiful story, and had it submitted</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">on time…only to shortly receive an announcement that the contest had been canceled.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">Petals for Kaya, my short story, launched me into a new reality in which I was aware I could</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">write my heart out on the subject of romance, and do it within suffocating time constraints if</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">necessary. </span><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">So I simply sat down and began writing my first romance novel, simultaneously</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">researching the self-pub process and reading one romance novel after another.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">What you’ll find funny is that I’d always been a memoir reader. Bridges of Madison County was</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">literally the only romance novel I’d ever read at the point I started writing them a couple years</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15.6px;">ago, so I’ve really learned on the fly.</span></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><br /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p><b>Author Bio:</b></p>
<p>Raised in the South and transplanted to a midwestern New Age community, Roxy Blue writes about the types of down-to-earth characters that dispel the notion of romance being rubbish. After thirteen years as an exotic dancer, she developed a rare autoimmune arthritis that gave her an excuse to settle down and focus more on writing, although she still hoopdances and hikes on the good days. Roxy lives in Asheville, NC with the kind of hunk she likes to read about, and their two ridiculous cats.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.authorroxyblue.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22378730.Roxy_Blue" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="http://instagram.com/authorroxyblue" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="http://facebook.com/authorroxyblue" target="_blank">Facebook</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-28594064642104235182024-03-12T08:00:00.020-04:002024-03-12T08:00:00.138-04:00Handsome Devil (Quicksand, #7) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2859406464210423518#">Handsome Devil </a></strong><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2859406464210423518#">(Quicksand, #7)</a> </b>By Delaney Diamond<br /><b>Publication date: </b>February 29, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2859406464210423518#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><em>They might both get what they want in this marriage of convenience—if they don’t kill each other first.</em></p>
<p><i>Annabelle Buchanan waltzes into Dante Escarra’s office with a singular goal—to persuade him to accept her audacious one-year marriage proposal. Her objective? Taking control of her father’s real estate empire. But Dante is her ex-husband, and their past is littered with hurt and anger.</i></p>
<p><i>Dante never once contemplated reuniting with Annabelle, because she broke his heart and left him devastated years ago. But her offer is a tantalizing chance to add an iconic Houston building to his real estate portfolio—a prize he covets more than he’s willing to admit.</i></p>
<p><i>As they pursue their respective goals, the lines between business and heart blur. Can they make their marriage work the second time around, or will they both end up with broken hearts—again?</i></p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“You came here for a reason. What do you want?”</p>
<p>“You should take a seat for this,” Annabelle said, waving toward his leather chair. She spoke in a lowered voice. Her seduction voice—low and throaty and bringing back memories that lashed his skin with heat.</p>
<p>His eyes narrowed in distrust. “Why do I need to sit down?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure you’ll like what I’m about to say.” She gave a careless, one-shoulder shrug.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Tell me so we can get this meeting over with, and I can go back to more important tasks, like practicing my golf swing.” He glanced at the Patel Philippe watch on his wrist. “You have sixty seconds to explain why you’re here, and then I’m calling security to escort you out.”</p>
<p>She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I have a proposition for you.”</p>
<p>“I cannot wait to hear it,” Dante said in a dry voice.</p>
<p>Another fake smile. “My father plans to step down as the CEO of Buchanan & Buchanan within the next few months.”</p>
<p>“Time is ticking. You have twenty-seven seconds.”</p>
<p>“Be patient, darling. I promise you’ll want to hear this,” she said, strolling over to the bar where he kept beverages for guests. She poured herself a glass of water and took a sip before turning to face him.</p>
<p>“Seventeen seconds.”</p>
<p>Annabelle arched an eyebrow. “When he steps down, he plans to recommend a merger to the board—a merger with his friend’s company, Strong Technology, Inc. They’re a privately owned firm specializing in smart home technology to modernize residential properties and make them more efficient. Daddy has threatened to go through with this merger for years.”</p>
<p>“What does that have to do with me?” Dante tapped his watch as a reminder.</p>
<p>“Nothing, directly.” Annabelle finished the water and carefully placed the glass on a silver tray atop the bar. “Except for the proposition I mentioned. Instead of merging the companies and having Albert Strong take over as CEO, I want Daddy to recommend <em>me</em> as CEO to the board, but unfortunately, he won’t because of his traditional values.”</p>
<p>A brief flash of pain zipped across her eyes, so fast he almost missed the emotion.</p>
<p>“That’s your problem. Again, what does your father’s decision have to do with me?”</p>
<p>She looked him squarely in the eyes. The haughty indifference disappeared, and a tough negotiator took its place. “My father admires and respects you. He thinks you’re a great businessman because of all you’ve accomplished in the ten years since our divorce. You’ve made quite a splash in the commercial real estate market. Therefore, my proposition is simple. I want to take over my father’s company, and I need you to help me make that happen. I’m proposing that you and I remarry.”</p>
<p>Dante cocked his head toward her in disbelief. “Excuse me, I misunderstood what you said. My English is not so good.”</p>
<p>“Your English is excellent. Probably better than mine at this point, so I know you understood perfectly what I said. I’m suggesting we get married again—a marriage of convenience, if you will. A mutually beneficial arrangement for both parties, you and me. My father will be happy to have you back in the family because he did like you, and now he has newfound respect for you thanks to all your accomplishments. Based on a conversation we had, I’m convinced he would recommend me for the CEO position <em>if</em> he thought you’d be involved in helping me with B&B, as needed. Our marriage would be temporary. Sometime after I take the reins of the company, you and I will have an amicable divorce. Not right away, of course. We want our reunion to be believable, but we simply split because we couldn’t make our marriage work for a second time.”</p>
<p>Dante folded his arms over his chest. Unbelievable.</p>
<p>“Your plan is to remarry and trick your father into believing you and I are happily married, so he will hand over the company to you when he steps down? That’s your plan?”</p>
<p>She smiled brilliantly. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Ah <em>querida, t’eres loca</em>,” Dante said.</p>
<p>Then he burst out laughing.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/03/Handsome-Devil_beautiful-bridejpg.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/03/Handsome-Devil_beautiful-bridejpg.jpg" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" /></a></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of black romance and interracial romance in the contemporary romance and romantic suspense genres. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free stories on her website at www.delaneydiamond.com.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://delaneydiamond.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://bit.ly/3sRgyh5" target="_blank">Facebook Group</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DelaneyDiamond/" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/DelaneyDiamond" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="http://bit.ly/DelDiam" target="_blank">Newsletter</a> / <a href="https://www.pinterest.ca/delaneydiamond/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> / <a href="http://podcast.delaneydiamond.com" target="_blank">Podcast</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/delaneydiamondbooks/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B004HU9G3G" target="_blank">Amazon</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-73967638959408174712024-03-11T08:00:00.019-04:002024-03-11T08:00:00.146-04:00If You Loved Me <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong>If You Loved Me </strong>By Brianna Remus<br /><b>Publication date: </b>April 26, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> Amazon<br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><div><i>My parents would lose their minds if they found out their precious daughter lost her virginity to the town’s notorious bad boy and ex-convict. </i></div></blockquote><blockquote><div><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span></div>
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<div><i>Ranger Adams might have been a dangerous pariah after he was released from prison, but he was the only man I wanted. And after I convinced him to take me on a date, I got exactly what my body…and heart desired. </i></div></blockquote><blockquote><div><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span></div>
<div></div>
<div><i>I spent my entire life trying to get away from my parents’ overbearing grasp. They’ve tried to control every part of my life, even down to the man I was supposed to marry. That was the price of being born into one of the South’s richest families. </i></div></blockquote><blockquote><div><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span></div>
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<div><i>The second I had a chance to get away, I did. Ten years of pissing them off and making my dreams come true was worth the sacrifice. No fun. No relationships. And no sex.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></div>
<div></div>
<div><i>My life had been all work until Ranger came back into town. Everyone whispered about what he’d done to land in prison. But I didn’t care. </i></div></blockquote><blockquote><div><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span></div>
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<div><i>He was rough around the edges, wild, and free.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></div>
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<div><i>And I wanted every bit of what he was willing to give me.</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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<p><br class="blank" /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Brianna Remus is a Florida-based author who lives with her husband, three pups, and terrorizing cat. She started her writing journey in 2016 to ward off the woes of graduate school. The light-hearted hobby quickly turned into a passion filled dream that consistently distracts her from the real world.</p>
<p>When Brianna isn't working as a psychology resident or writing books, you can find her getting lost in the worlds created by others (through writing and movies), spending a day at the ocean, or taking a walk in the forest. She loves to spend her days outdoors surrounded by the beauties of nature.</p>
<p>A true Tolkien nerd, she also spends a lot of her time immersed in Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, as well as praying that Amazon doesn't completely fuck up the new LOTR series.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.briannaremus.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19147144.Brianna_Remus" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/brianna-remus?list=about" target="_blank">Bookbub</a> / <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authorbriannaremus?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc" target="_blank">TikTok</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorbriannaremus/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-5995206300721236622024-03-10T08:00:00.020-04:002024-03-10T08:00:00.131-04:00Pulling Her Resources <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/599520630072123662#">Pulling Her Resources</a> </strong>By Mia Sivan<br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 16, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link</b>: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/599520630072123662#">Amazon</a><br />Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance</p><p><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>In Tel Aviv’s high-stakes business world, Dafna works in a startup teetering on the brink of financial doom. Divorced for six years and starved for passion, she goes on a wild one-night stand with a hot, much younger bartender. But then, the tattooed barman strolls into her startup. Surprise! Turns out he is Erez Ben Ami, the CPA assigned to go over their books with a fine-tooth comb.</i></p>
<p><i>Erez is a single dad, with a young brother to support. His boss offers him a dream position, but there’s a catch: first, review a new, promising startup and make it as favorable as possible. His future is on the line, and he must suppress his feelings for Dafna, keeping his hands and other parts to himself.</i></p>
<p><i>Dafna can’t stop wanting Erez, he is the man who made her get over her ex-husband. They spend hours together, and soon, they’re using the office desks for more than emails.</i></p>
<p><i>Erez is falling for Dafna, she is the woman he has always looked for. When he suspects shady dealings within her company, he finds himself at a loss. Investigating it can cost him his dream job, as well as the love of his life.</i></p>
<p><i>Pulling Her Resources is a stand-alone later-in-life steamy romance featuring a forbidden workplace affair, financial intrigue and a Happy Ever After.</i></p>
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<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“Do you have a condom?”</p>
<p>Fuck! Rookie mistake!</p>
<p>“A condom?” He stalled, panic building in his abdomen, realizing that he most definitely didn’t have one. He didn’t travel everywhere with them. His brother would have been better prepared. Eitan always had one in his trousers’ back pocket.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“You know, that’s so embarrassing. I don’t.”</p>
<p>“This is my one and only night at the luna park, and I want to go on all the rides.”</p>
<p>“We could do other stuff. Tell me what you want.” He would make more love to her tonight, condom or no condom.</p>
<p>“To feel you <em>in</em> me, <em>on</em> me,” Dafna answered.</p>
<p>She was killing him.<br />
<br class="blank" /></p>
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Mia Sivan is an Israeli woman who lives, works and loves in Tel Aviv. The city is as much a part of her books as any other character. </p>
<p>Mia has worked as a senior investment manager for many years, and the books she writes draws much from her personal experience, as well as real-life scams that took place in the Israeli financial market.</p>
<p>When not writing or dreaming up steamy scenes, she lives with her handsome husband and even handsomer two sons, and enjoys long walks by the beach (it’s Tel Aviv, it’s never too cold).</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.miasivan.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22085886.Mia_Sivan" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/miasivan.author/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/mia-sivan" target="_blank">Bookbub</a> / <a href="https://expert-artist-7801.ck.page/addb648f48" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/6236955842258239623#"><strong>The Forger and the Duke </strong><b>(Ladies Least Likely, #2)</b></a> By Misty Urban<br /><b>Publication date: </b>March 5, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/6236955842258239623#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Historical, Romance<summary: p=""></summary:></p><blockquote><p><i>In 1776 London, orphaned vicar’s daughter Amaranthe Illingworth supports her small household with her skills as a copyist, but her quiet routine is shattered the day three children show up at her door seeking aid from her brother, their tutor. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>Behind them storms in Malden Grey, would-be barrister and their erstwhile guardian, who accuses Amaranthe of kidnapping the young Duke of Hunsdon and his siblings.</i></p>
<p><i>The former duke’s illegitimate son, Malden Grey has learned to live by his wits, and he’s told he’ll advance to the bar if he takes a proper wife. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>As she helps him restore order at Hunsdon House, Amaranthe seems a likely candidate—if only Mal can unearth the truth behind the rumors that she’s been forging, and selling, priceless medieval manuscripts. Amaranthe, in the meantime, needs to stay on her guard lest the charming Malden Grey steal her heart at the same time she’s hoping to borrow from his library a priceless book that could make her fortune.</i></p>
<p><i>But when Mal’s foray into Amaranthe’s past yields a discovery that will change both of their destinies, they’ll have to fight together to clear their names and stake out a future together—if either has a future at all.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>She set the portrait gently in its place. Mal battled the impulse to take those cool, capable fingers and press them against his aching head.</p>
<p>“And where is your mother now?” Her steady, fathomless gaze rested on him.</p>
<p>“She died when I was young.” Dear Lord, he was becoming sentimental. He pushed the weakness aside. “You are coming to know a great deal about us, Miss Illingworth, and I know very little about you.”</p>
<p>Her eyes crinkled as she smiled widely, and Mal cast about for breath. “We have not even been properly introduced.”</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Malden Grey of Bristol, aspiring to the bar.” He held out his hand.</p>
<p>“Malden,” she said, and a silken quality in her voice made him shudder, as did the slide of her fingers as she placed them in his.</p>
<p>“You haven’t told me your name.” His voice roughed his chest.</p>
<p>“Miss Amaranthe Illingworth of St. Cleer, Cornwall. My father was very fond of classical antiquity, so he chose a Greek name for me.” She held the volume of housekeeper’s accounts close to her chest, like a shield.</p>
<p>He sat back. She appeared completely unconcerned to learn he was a bastard, the status he wore like a brand on his forehead, marking him as less than, as lacking.</p>
<p>She rose, and he scrambled to his feet. Very neatly she placed her glass on the shelf beneath the decanter. Her eyes traced the figurines above, all of them representing mythological half-women with breasts prominently displayed.</p>
<p>“They’re not mine,” Mal said.</p>
<p>That small, maddening smile quirked her lips again. “No, they are young Hunsdon’s now, I imagine. I’ve seen this and worse among some of the medieval marginalia I’ve copied, Mr. Grey. You wouldn’t believe some of the grotesques those monks could dream up. I suppose it comes from being locked away day after day with no company but other men.”</p>
<p>That was his problem as well, Mal decided. Too much time in the company of other men. That was why she riled his senses so potently.</p>
<p>He moved around the desk toward her as she stepped away. “I can drive you tomorrow. When you make inquiries about hiring servants. What time shall I bring the carriage round?”</p>
<p>She hesitated, and her face went studiously blank. A slither across the back of his neck told him this was the expression she assumed when she was withholding something. He was beginning to recognize it.</p>
<p>“Eyde made up a room for me here,” she said. “Do you mind?”</p>
<p>“Of course not. There are dozens of rooms.” Or so he thought. Hunsdon House was not his, as nothing about the Hunsdon estate was to be his—not even the family name—and so he’d never let much of it occupy his attention.</p>
<p>Mal wondered which room Miss Illingworth would select for her own. Did she see her silk-smooth skin as best set off by the draperies in the Blue Room? Would she choose the Oriental patterns of the Jade Room? Or would she, like an empress of old, demand the royal purple? He imagined her nearby in the house going about her nightly routine, taking down her hair, drawing off her prim robe, perhaps splashing water onto her face that would run down that softly stern neck to the collarbones hidden beneath her gown and—</p>
<p>He’d best stop imagining Miss Illingworth at her ablutions. He was about to embarrass himself.</p>
<p>“Till tomorrow then, Miss Illingworth.” Had she said he could call her Amaranthe? He wanted to roll the name over his tongue. It was exotic, yet robust. A name with command and presence, much like the woman.</p>
<p>Good Lord! That brandy had turned his wits. He was behaving like a moonstruck calf. No, worse.</p>
<p>“Till tomorrow,” she said softly, and her gaze held his. The flickering candlelight brought out violet shadows in her eyes, and all the air left Mal’s body. He wanted to be found worthy of that calm, assessing gaze.</p>
<p>There was no way she would ever find him worthy.</p>
<p>The door shut behind her, and Mal smacked a hand to his head to clear it. He’d best bring himself in order. They had business to conduct. Problems to solve.</p>
<p>She had secrets he wanted very much to discover.</p>
<p>He had gotten his first good look at Miss Amaranthe Illingworth. He wanted a second. And a third.<br />
<br class="blank" /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Misty Urban is a medieval scholar, freelance editor, and college professor who likes to write stories about misbehaving women who find adventure and romance. She holds an MFA and Ph.D. from Cornell University and lives in the Midwest in a little town on a big river.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://mistyurban.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3169900.Misty_Urban" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authormistyurban/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authormistyurban/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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<p><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2552370120684276244#">Elements & Flame (The Elemental Series, #1)</a> </b>By Jillian Beane<br /><b>Publication date:</b> March 4, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/2552370120684276244#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Fantasy, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>After losing a hard fought battle, Suleima finds a new home in the wilderness outside a small town to heal her wounds and recover her Elemental magic. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
A small town which houses a werewolf pack.<br />
When that past begins to encroach on her new territory, she and her friends, new and old, must figure out a way to win this time. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
Will her dragon shifter best friend and the Alpha of the pack be enough to permanently remove the evil that threatens?<br />
Rumors of a flower hidden in a cave could be what they need to tip the scales in their favor. But to get to this cave, she must face challenges that threaten everything that she has ever known.</i></p>
<p><i>**** Action Adventure Fantasy with Slow Burn Romance. Werewolves, Magic, Dragon shifters, Mythical Creatures. Join the characters in their Epic Journey to the top of a mountain.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span lang="EN-US">Tracking a doe through the forest, Suleima could feel the earth breathing beneath her feet. There was nowhere near the connection to the earth and her elements in the city that she’d found here in her new home. Here, she was on her own, and away from the rapid pace of the city, away from her past, and she preferred it that way. </span></p>
<p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span lang="EN-US">There was a squirrel foraging for nuts to the west, a snake sunning on a rock somewhere to the south. A pack of predators were a couple miles north—too far to judge the species. Using the earth’s essence more than her own sight, she could see the trees. Each individual leaf pulsed and vibrated with the slight breeze in the air, straining for the sun. The screech of a hawk, soaring above, brought her back to her task.</span></p><p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span lang="EN-US">Using the vibrations, the ebb and flow of the earth and her elements, she was able to silently track the doe deep into the forest to a small clearing just beside a shallow creek. Even that small trickle of water was enough to make her muscles sing. If not for the rain last night, the creek would likely be dry. She crouched, placing her right hand on the ground, physically connecting with the soil below. Her fingers tingled and her blood raced. As the power of the elements raced through her, she knew her eyes had drifted from their usual gray to a vibrant violet.</span></p>
<p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span lang="EN-US">Suleima basked in the warmth of the sun, filtered through the leaves of the trees behind her. Taking a deep breath, Suleima released the energy she was holding while touching the soil, and slowly stood. She retraced her steps out of the clearing and headed in the direction of her home. She had waited too long to use the elements; she was tired and needed to recharge.</span></p>
<p class="styledelementstyleddiv-sc-2e063k-0"><span lang="EN-US">She never should have let it go for this long. She needed to keep her skills honed. Although she was away from the city, the reason she left was still out there, and her past would catch up with her sooner or later. Hearing a slight huff to her left, she cursed herself for letting her guard down. The pack of predators she sensed earlier had closed in on her without her knowing it. Wolves . . . <em>werewolves</em>. </span></p>
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>I have been writing since I was in high school and have finally found the courage to put some of that writing out for all to see. I have a love of all things artistic and crafty. Reading books, watching movies and listening to music makes my heart happy. I am a self-proclaimed Jack of All Trades, Master of None. I live in the mid-west with my husband, two amazing and crazy kids, and a cat who we think is part squirrel.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://jillianbeane.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/48209818.Jillian_Beane" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/JillianBea16304" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJillianBeane" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jillian_beaneauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1476370376774286199#"><strong>The Edge </strong><b>(DI Barney Mains, #5)</b></a> By<b> Jim McGhee</b><br /><b>Publication date:</b> February 28, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1476370376774286199#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres:</b> Adult, Thriller<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>DI Barney Mains blames himself for the grotesque murder of a top banker in France.</i></p>
<p><i>He’s obsessed with the belief that he allowed a near-mythical assassin to escape certain death to kill again.</i></p>
<p><i>And when a duplicate murder is reported 1000 miles away in Barney’s home town in Scotland, the guilt drives him ever closer to the edge.</i></p>
<p><i>How many more must pay the ultimate price for his failure?</i></p>
<p><i>But then death comes closer to home. He is left with no choice but to face his demons, before a shocking confrontation which will change everything…</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>Barney controlled his breathing as he stepped into the room. Wary of sending shadows across that blind, he shone his phone torch onto the floor and started to step carefully around the perimeter of a worn carpet.</p>
<p>There was a small kitchen area on the wall to his right and a fold-down bed on the facing wall. He stopped and dared raise his torch a tad. The bed was empty and neatly made.</p>
<p>He moved around, past an open toilet door, and relaxed a little in the knowledge that this looked like a studio flat, which meant there were no other rooms to check, no need to risk staying too long.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>He continued to step into the pool of light until he reached the third wall. He stopped dead. Why the hell would anyone take up this much space in a small flat by installing a bloody great chest freezer? And how could someone who’d been reduced to living in such mean accommodation afford to fill the bugger anyway?</p>
<p>Barney thought these were very interesting questions. But there was another. Why had he fitted a padlock to it?</p>
<p>Well, of course there was a logical explanation. Maybe the man who lived here made his living buying and selling meat. There were so many food shops and restaurants in the area that the logic was inescapable and Barney wanted to like it.</p>
<p>Breaking into a flat was one thing but breaking into a freezer full of meat would be just plain silly. And he badly needed to be gone.</p>
<p>He flicked the patch of light along the floor to the fourth wall, the one with the window. There seemed to be a desk and chair here. He looked closer. Yes, a desk, or rather a make-up table, with a trio of fixed mirrors. He felt that chill run down his back, the one which knew things before he did. It was the kind of table he’d seen Jack use when transforming himself into a movie legend. The Ghost too was said to be a master of disguise.</p>
<p>Had Barney, by going to an AA meeting then following its worthy Leader to this place, discovered the dragon’s lair? But why here and why had he been a regular at such meetings? Unless he was quite simply hiding in plain sight, where no-one would think to look for him. He could return here as Alec and leave as whoever he chose for his next commission. But if so, why would he let the Leader come and go so freely?</p>
<p>Barney knew he was staying too long. He needed to get out before someone returned. And yet, the mystery of the freezer intrigued him.</p>
<p>In such a room, in such a place, a locked freezer?</p>
<p>He took a big breath and realised how tense he was. But he’d come this far and rightly or wrongly he sensed that the freezer was significant.</p>
<p>The thought made him so cold that he might have been inside that big white box. Was he really going to add this next crime to drink driving and housebreaking?</p>
<p>‘Ach, what the hell,’ he said out loud for courage, then pulled out his lock picks again. Now, all he had to do was lift the lid and confirm the contents as lamb chops and steaks before making his escape and laughing at himself as the complete fool that he was.</p>
<p>He paused. He felt both disoriented and exhilarated; shitting himself and screaming inside with some crazed sense of liberation. He was in the forbidden land, beyond the laws he’d spent his adult life enforcing.</p>
<p>The scariest thing, he realised as he pulled open the lid and rested it against the wall, was that he liked it.</p>
<p>At first glance, it looked like the opaque plastic sheet could very well cover nothing more than the stock products of a meat trader.</p>
<p>He reached across to his left to grab the far corner then carefully drew it towards him so that he could put it back in more or less the same position.</p>
<p>He shone his torch. Shit! His gut clenched. A human face stared blankly back at him from within a clear plastic bag.</p>
<p>Barney pulled the cover all the way to his right.</p>
<p>The man, maybe aged around forty, had no obvious injuries and was dressed like half the world, in faded jeans, denim jacket and trainers. He had clear plastic bags over his hands.</p>
<p>But it was that stony, bloodless face like porcelain which drew him. For this could, after all, be the face in the sketch, the face which haunted him.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/When-Nothing-Fits.png"><img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/When-Nothing-Fits.png" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" /></a></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Jim McGhee's a former award-winning environmental journalist.</p>
<p>Formerly based in East Lothian, near Edinburgh, Scotland, he is now mainly to be found in Nice in the South of France, the main setting for his DI Barney Mains series.</p>
<p>After a full-on career as a campaigning newspaper reporter, he and wife Jean launched their own recruitment company in central Edinburgh and for twelve fun-packed years worked closely together alongside their brilliant team - without spilling a single drop of blood.</p>
<p>The Alpes-Maritimes and Var departments, on the other hand, have provided a host of dramatic locations just perfect as inspiration for the odd spot of fictional gore.</p>
<p>Locals, blessed with scenery ranging from unspoilt mountain villages to the classic palms-and-marinas coast, claim that they can be swimming one moment and ski-ing a little over an hour later. It's a claim not yet put to the test!</p>
<p>Besides, when not writing or travelling, Jim's more likely to be off on a hike in the hills with his ever-ready buddy, Jack the Irish Terrier.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.jimmcghee.net/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/140606.Jim_McGhee" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bigbarneymains/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jim-mcghee" target="_blank">Bookbub</a></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>GIVEAWAY!</strong><br />
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-64215334628347364632024-02-27T08:00:00.000-05:002024-02-27T08:00:00.254-05:00Disenchanted (A Lay of Ruinous Reign, #1)<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/6421533462834736463#">Disenchanted </a></strong><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/6421533462834736463#">(A Lay of Ruinous Reign, #1)</a> </b>By Brianna Sugalski<br /><b>Publication date:</b> January 23, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/6421533462834736463#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Fantasy, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>The Princess Bride and Buffy the Vampire Slayer meet Sarah J. Maas’ Throne of Glass in this Breton-inspired fantasy debut brimming with wry humor, epic adventure, and an irresistible romance.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>Lilac Trécesson is a prisoner in her parents’ castle after a most wicked secret was revealed on the eve of her fifteenth birthday. Years later, her Accession looms upon her father’s decision to abdicate, and between the riotous townsfolk and scheming noble bent on snatching her throne, she prepares for the worst… Until a letter arrives from The Witch of Lupine Grotto, containing a curious offer to banish her curse forever.</i></p>
<p><i>She begrudgingly trades her coronet for a cloak and ventures into the forest Brocéliande, only to find herself cornered by a bloodthirsty barkeep who demands her help in exchange for protection against the even deadlier forces of the woods.</i></p>
<p><i>With only the protection of her inherited dagger—and unsolicited help of the sardonic stranger who inserts himself on her quest—Lilac must find the impious enchantress and return in time to claim her crown. Pity the fool to underestimate the girl with subpar blade skills but the spite to make up for it.</i></p>
<p><i>This is the tale of a cursed princess,<br />
A crestfallen killer,<br />
The town that wants them to burn,<br />
And the witch who can save them both.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>SNEAK PEAK:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" loading="lazy" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/v_-DLdwud0k?si=PKsEbVNSW6tBLA2J" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Southeast Asian fantasy author with a soup addiction. Diverse medievalist and developmental editor who lives in oversized sweaters, and prefers to explore the more ominous—disenchanting, if you will—undertones of history, romance, and the arcane.</p>
<p>My debut, Breton Arthuriana-inspired YA Dark Fantasy DISENCHANTED, released with the Parliament Press in March 2020, and is being re-released and rebranded for the New Adult/ Adult indie market in December 2022. The rest of the trilogy will follow this updated genre rating.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.briannasugalski.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19322730.Brianna_Sugalski" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorbriannasugalski/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/briwritesthings/" target="_blank">Facebook</a></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>GIVEAWAY!</strong><br />
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-5857226442034834232024-02-26T08:00:00.028-05:002024-02-26T08:00:00.144-05:00Take Any Chance (Gaming the System, #10) <div class="separator"></div><div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p style="text-align: center;"><b>Paperback cover / eBook and Paperback cover</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/585722644203483423#"><strong>Take Any Chance </strong><b>(Gaming the System, #10)</b> </a>By Brenna Aubrey</p><p><b>Publication date: </b>April 30, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/585722644203483423#">Pre Order</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>In the game of life, Mia Drake has leveled up like a pro. Just out of medical school, she’s landed her dream job—a medical residency at a prestigious hospital. She has a beautiful home and an amazing husband. But there’s one more achievement she’s determined to unlock: becoming a mother.</i></p>
<p><i>In the business world, Adam Drake is a beast. He can face any threat. Conquer any boardroom. But when Mia issues the challenge to start a family, Adam will have to take up a sword to fight the ultimate boss—his own fear.</i></p>
<p><i>The path forward is clear, but are Adam and Mia truly ready to embark on this epic quest?</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Brenna Aubrey is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author of contemporary romance stories that center on geek culture. Her debut novel, At Any Price, is currently free on all platforms. Her books are on over a million e-readers worldwide, have been translated into German, French, Italian and Dutch. They've also been adapted as an interactive app game. Look for the brand new POINT OF NO RETURN series and her extremely popular GAMING THE SYSTEM series.</p>
<p>She has always sought comfort in good books and the long, involved stories she weaves in her head. Brenna is a city girl with a nature-lover’s heart. She therefore finds herself out in green open spaces any chance she can get. She currently resides on the west coast of the US with her husband and children (both human and furry).</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://brennaaubrey.net/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5824327.Brenna_Aubrey" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BrennaAubreyAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/BrennaAubrey" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/brennaaubreyauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://brennaaubrey.net/newsletter-signup/" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-30876161367865755752024-02-25T08:00:00.005-05:002024-02-25T08:00:00.245-05:00The Science of Attraction (A Mackenzie Country Story, #3)<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3087616136786575575#"><strong>The Science of Attraction </strong><b>(A Mackenzie Country Story, #3)</b></a> By Jay Hogan<br /><b>Publication date: </b>February 22, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3087616136786575575#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres:</b> Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><i>I am Mackenzie Country born and bred. Farming the high country runs in my blood, like my father, and his father, and my great grandfather before him. My future has been mapped out for me since the day I was born. Or at least it was, until Liam Skelton walks onto Lane Station, lights a fire in my heart, and turns my whole world upside down.</i></p>
<p><i>Bossy, tatted, and out and proud, Liam is everything my father abhors.<br />
And I want him.<br />
Badly.</i></p>
<p><i>But having a chance with Liam means risking everything. My family. My future. And my life in these mountains that I love.<br />
Still, the heart wants what it wants, and mine wants Liam.</i></p>
<p><i>With so many things against us, maybe we don’t have a chance.<br />
Maybe we’ll crash and burn.<br />
Or maybe we’ll find a way to have it all.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>Julian Lane unsettled me in a way not many men did, and it was troubling, to say the least. I’d had a couple of long-term relationships in my life, but I’d never lived with anyone or wanted more. Being a fairly self-contained person, I liked my own company. I spent most days working intimately with people’s complex needs. It was intense, challenging work, and at the end of the day or the finish of a contract, my home was my sanctuary, and I guarded it with my life.</p>
<p>The idea of a <em>man</em> cluttering up that space with their things, inconvenient demands, or just the mere fact of their presence sent horrifying chills racing down my spine. I rarely got flustered by a guy, and certainly not the way Julian unnerved me with his capable air, glittering grey eyes, and that profound sense of knowing his place in the world.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Julian had the air of a man who knew who he was and where he belonged. You wouldn’t need to jolly a man like Jules along to make him feel wanted, soothe an ego bent out of shape, or play down your success so as not to threaten his by comparison. Men like that were rare and held an intoxicating allure for someone like me.</p>
<p>But Jules was also my client’s son, and that alone should’ve made him forbidden fruit even for a bit of harmless crushing. <em>Should’ve. </em>But there’d been something about his smile that first day. Something about the way I’d caught him looking at me when he didn’t think I was watching. And maybe the way <em>I </em>felt when he looked at me, as well.</p>
<p>The whole thing was fucking with my head.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/TSOA-7-Life-I-wanted.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/TSOA-7-Life-I-wanted.jpg" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" /></a></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p><em>Heart, humour and keeping it real.</em></p>
<p><strong>Jay is a 2020 Lambda Literary Award Finalist in Gay Romance and her book Off Balance was the 2021 New Zealand Romance Book of the Year.</strong></p>
<p>She is a New Zealand author writing mm romance and romantic suspense, primarily set in New Zealand. She writes character driven romances with lots of humour, a good dose of reality and a splash of angst. She's travelled extensively, lived in many countries, and in a past life she was a critical care nurse, nurse educator and counsellor. Jay is owned by a huge Maine Coon cat and a gorgeous Cocker Spaniel</p>
<p><strong>Find Jay in all the places:</strong> <a href="https://www.jayhoganauthor.com/landingpage">https://www.jayhoganauthor.com/landingpage</a></p>
</blockquote>
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<p style="text-align: center;">—<br />
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-35712206166806910142024-02-24T08:00:00.023-05:002024-02-24T17:06:52.916-05:00The Demon’s Discovery (The Demon Princes, #2) <div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3571220616680691014#"><strong>The Demon’s Discovery </strong><b>(The Demon Princes, #2)</b> </a>By L. Alexander<br /><b>Publication date: </b>February 21, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3571220616680691014#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>My whole life I’ve been trapped, but fate has provided a way out.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>Orphaned.<br />
Hidden.<br />
Rescued by a Demon Prince.</i></p>
<p><i>As a child I became the ward of a duke and his wife, but I’m just a servant in the house, not family.</i></p>
<p><i>An accidental encounter with one of their most prestigious guests opens the door to a life I hadn’t dared to dream of.</i></p>
<p><i>Residence at the Collegium d’Arcan. A family. Freedom.</i></p>
<p><i>The handsome mystic arts teacher nurtures not only my talent in alchemy and my confidence … but also my happiness. His protective affection is unwavering, especially after the duke promises my hand to a merchant without my consent.</i></p>
<p><i>Delving into my past reveals things that have the demon prince I’m falling for swearing vengeance on my behalf. Our lives are far more intertwined than anyone could have guessed, and nearly nothing is as it seems.</i></p>
<p><i>His secrets might be dangerous, but mine could change the fate of a kingdom.</i></p>
<p><em>The Demon’s Discovery is a fated mates romance with a cinnamon roll hero, magic, monsters and a guaranteed happily ever after. It’s a full-length novel with no cliffhanger for the couple and is the second book in this series.</em></p></blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>Greta ended up with her back pressed against the supplies cabinet, my forearms flat against the glass, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at me with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she whispered.</p>
<p>There was no way to miss the way her eyes tracked my mouth, the way I was steeped in her scent or how my heart kept trying to reach for her directly through my chest. It had been the sweetest torture to spend the day pressed up against her from behind, able to smell her hair and feel the curves of her body line up with the planes of mine. And now, with her dressed in my clothing, after what we’d been through earlier, I hardly had any restraint at all left.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>“Greta,” I warned.</p>
<p>“It’s okay. I want …” she swallowed, my eyes following every movement of her throat and the way her tongue dipped out to wet her bottom lip.</p>
<p>I cupped her cheek with one hand, warring with myself as every impulse in my body screamed at me.</p>
<p>Her eyes became glazed, half closed … and I lost all hold on my control.</p>
<p>I dove in like a man starved, plundering her mouth with my own. I swallowed her noises of surprise, growling back as she pressed herself further against me instead of trying to run away.</p>
<p>She tasted like the berries we’d had with lunch, and I marveled at the softness of her body under my hands, my lips. I teased at her bottom lip with one fang, swiping at the tiny droplet of blood I’d made rush to the surface with my tongue as she sucked in a breath. To my great pleasure, she didn’t pull away as a brief collage of her here at the collegium danced across my mind. If anything, she hovered closer, asking for more in the way her eyes lingered half-closed, her hands fisted in my shirt.</p>
<p>“Vassago …” My name was music on her lips, speaking to the darkest parts of me. The neediest.</p>
<p>The most dangerous ones.</p>
<p>“Greta.” I pressed my lips to hers again, but gently, taking my time exploring. I mapped the way her cupid’s bow formed perfect points in her lush upper lip and a tiny scar caused an imperfection in her bottom one. The way she was reaching for me the way I was for her. The way she hesitated, but just barely, when I requested she open for me by swiping along her lips with my tongue. As I drank from her lips she followed my lead, making another of those incendiary sounds.</p>
<p>I lost myself in her, and it was glorious.</p>
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>L. Alexander writes Paranormal and Fantasy romance with sweet & spicy cinnamon roll heroes, fated mates, monsters, magic and more. She guarantees a happily ever after no matter what and has a soft spot for broody anime characters.</p>
<p>L. also writes Contemporary Romance under the name Lily Alexander.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://authorlilyalexander.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/29771617.L_Alexander" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorlilyalexander" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/852986315145822/?source_id=103642681190981" target="_blank">Facebook Group</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lilyalexanderwrites/" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authorlilyalexander" target="_blank">TikTok</a> / <a href="https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/j9l6w7" target="_blank">Newsletter</a></p>
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1349144296890788266#">The Belle of London</a> </strong>By Nicola Italia<br /><b>Publication date: </b>January 30, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/1349144296890788266#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Historical, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><em>On the English stage, the Belle of London is born…</em></p>
<p><i>During the late Victorian era, Amelia Westcott is without family and few friends and is forced to make her way in the world. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>Talented and beautiful, she takes to the London stage and attracts the attention of numerous powerful and wealthy men including the Prince of Wales.</i></p>
<p><i>But a close friend of the Prince’s is little impressed with the lovely actress. Christopher “Kit” Beaumont is not taken in by Amelia’s charms and believes she is a gold digger set to sink her claws into any man who will give her a comfortable life. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
Kit knows nothing about the strong and independent Amelia who gains a powerful patron in the Prince of Wales even as she is given the moniker The Belle of London.<br />
As her star rises, she vows to have nothing to do with the arrogant, handsome Kit.</i></p>
<p><i>From the London stage to New York’s Broadway, Amelia and Kit are thrown together and a battle of wills and passionate personalities ensues as Kit suddenly realizes he wants Amelia as his own. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>
Though Kit has decided that no other woman but Amelia will do, someone else is plotting to make certain the two are never together.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">KIT TRIES TO PAY OFF AMELIA</p>
<p>She surveyed the man before her. He was sinfully good-looking with brown, almost-black hair and brown eyes warm upon her. He was dressed impeccably, and the cut of his coat and pants bespoke wealth and privilege. His shoes were polished. She knew instinctively he was a man used to getting his way.</p>
<p>“How can I help you, Mr. …?” she sought out his name.</p>
<p>“Call me Christopher.”</p>
<p>She didn’t call him by his name. “How can I help you?”</p>
<p>“You can do me a great service.” As he spoke, he pulled out a small rectangular book and a fountain pen. “All you need do is name your price.”</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>Amelia frowned. “My price? I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>Kit smiled at her as he opened up the checkbook. “I know you aren’t in love. You’ve just met. And I’m sure, as a woman, you dream of finer things, jewels, and frocks. Name your price. You can have them tomorrow. But not Patrick. He’s not for you.” His eyes were as cold as stone.</p>
<p>“Patrick,” she breathed out, her heart sinking. She had badly misjudged him. Amelia took off her gloves and faced the man in the low gaslights. “Patrick wants me gone.”</p>
<p>The man frowned. “Patrick doesn’t know I’m here.”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t know you’re here?” She looked again at his clothes and considered his voice, so used to giving orders and being obeyed, and she knew. He was here to buy her off. She almost laughed at the thought. “Am I such a danger to him?” she whispered. “To you? And aren’t you placing the cart before the horse? Nothing has happened. One supper. What are you afraid of?”</p>
<p>Kit looked her up and down. “You must be very used to using your <em>attributes</em> as a way to make men do what you want. I’m sure you’ve had men tell you so. I’m sure you’ve been offered protection from older men. Look at it this way. In my bargain, Miss Westcott, you get the money, and you don’t have to take off a stitch of clothing.”</p>
<p>“How dare you.” Amelia was breathless at his degrading words. An intense rage swept through her. Taking three steps, she stood before him, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming quickly.</p>
<p>Kit was on his feet in an instant. He stared down into her face. “Is the truth so unpleasing to you, Miss Westcott?”</p>
<p>She met his eyes, and her chin notched up. “You think because you associate with a certain kind of woman, all women must be like that. Because I’ve fallen on hard times, my soul and heart can be bought for the price of a few shillings and pence.”</p>
<p>“Be careful.” Kit contemplated her oval-shaped face, auburn hair, and light blue eyes. “What I offer you is far more than shilling and pence. It would be more than you could make in a year.”</p>
<p>“You are so used to buying and selling people?” she asked him coldly.</p>
<p>“I’m not separating Tristan and Iseult,” he responded. “You have fallen on hard times. I can make those hard times easier. Name your price.”</p>
<p>She looked away from him. “I have no price.”</p>
<p>“Two hundred pounds.”</p>
<p>Amelia gasped. An Army officer would make that amount in a year. “I care for Patrick. I do,” she confessed. “And my care for him is genuine and honest. That you chose to come here and insult me when you know nothing about me, I cannot forgive. But because I know a part of you must care greatly for him as well, I will forget this night. But know this, you have judged me wrongly and falsely. And though I am not the type of woman you think I am, you seem to be the exact kind of man I think you to be,” she threw at him.</p>
<p>Kit’s jaw clenched as he stared down at her. “And what kind of man is that?”</p>
<p>Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. “You are a master. You are a man used to being obeyed and his orders followed. But you’re a coward.” She spat the words at him. “Instead of coming to me and asking me questions in a straightforward manner about Patrick, you made false assumptions and attempted to buy me!”</p>
<p>Kit almost sneered. “So, you do not have it in mind to marry Patrick for position and money?”</p>
<p>Amelia cocked her head. “Women can do little in society. Most of our worth is in being mothers and wives, is it not? So, if I were to say I was not interested in marrying, that would be a lie. But as Patrick has neither asked me nor mentioned it, I don’t see the relevance.”</p>
<p>Kit was about to respond, but she interrupted.</p>
<p>“And how is it your duty to confront me so? You are not his brother, I know he has little family. Would he appreciate you being here now? Behind his back. Offering me money to disappear? This is hardly the behavior of a gentleman, which I know you to be,” she demanded.</p>
<p>He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know I’m a gentleman?”</p>
<p>Amelia made a sound of disbelief. “Though you seem intent to make me seem like some unintelligent, money-grabbing slag, I am not. I see the cut of your clothes, the polished expensive shoes, your authoritarian voice—”</p>
<p>Kit surveyed her then and was struck by the beauty of her clean skin, luminous blue eyes, and mass of auburn hair that was pinned up. “I won’t apologize for protecting my friend,” he said suddenly.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “The last thing on earth I expect from you, sir, would be a warranted apology for your bad behavior. That would mean you realize you acted poorly. We can’t have that.”</p>
<p>Kit took a moment to study her again and then nodded. “Very well. Perhaps I misjudged the situation. But remember this. Patrick is an educated man and has a law practice. I’m certain a music hall dancer will not fit into that lifestyle. You’ll at least admit that?” He raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“You know nothing about me, sir,” she said quietly.<br />
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Nicola is a Los Angeles native. Early in elementary school, Nicola had a great fondness for reading and began to write creatively. She graduated from university with a degree in communications and has held a variety of positions in journalism, education, government and non profit.</p>
<p>Nicola has traveled extensively throughout Europe, China, Central America and Egypt and loves all things historical.</p>
<p>She has nineteen historical romance and mystery novels on Amazon. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://nicolaitalia.com/Staging/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7866433.Nicola_Italia" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNicolaItalia/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://amzn.to/49lgKcq" target="_blank">Amazon</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authornicolaitalia" target="_blank">Instagram</a> / <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/nicola-italia" target="_blank">Bookbub</a></p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-30603942007838701422024-02-22T08:00:00.015-05:002024-02-22T08:00:00.153-05:00Seven Perfect Days<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><strong><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3060394200783870142#">Seven Perfect Days</a> </strong>By Francesca Vespa<br /><b>Publication date:</b> February 17, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link:</b> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/3060394200783870142#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>Sometimes your friends break your heart the most.</i></strong></p>
<p><i>Maggie Lomax dodged the most painful moment of her life, but her eccentric best friend Alexandra isn’t going to let her get away that easy. High School might finally be over, but they still need to clean up the mess left behind.</i></p>
<p><i>Things look grim, until Maggie meets Adam Moon, a handsome foreign student and sweet, kind soul who’s just as messed up as her. The only problem is he disappeared, and nobody knows what happened to him.</i></p>
<p><i>An unusual offer from an old school acquaintance to travel abroad may be a chance for Maggie to move on. New sights, new sounds and new adventures may be just what she needs, but the past has a way of catching up with her, and so does Alexandra. Maggie may find her guy, but it could be at the worst possible time.</i></p>
<p><i>This contemporary romantic black comedy travels the world, hopping islands, traversing continents, sailing oceans. It tells a big tale from small intimate ones. The story is set on the sails of courage, flying a flag to joy and friendship, heartbreak and love.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>It was my cousin who did it.</p>
<p>Well, kind of.</p>
<p>I mean, he really did it, but he’s not really my cousin. He’s actually my father’s cousin’s daughter’s husband; Zayn. I also have two other cousins called Zain, but they had nothing to do with it. Probably.</p>
<p>I was over at my uncle’s house, and I snuck out for a smoke. Big house, big garden, big dinner party, so nobody noticed. That’s where I saw Zayn in the library with the gun. I only saw it for a moment before he wrapped it up. I thought if a guy like that had a gun, he was definitely going to use it for something later on.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>
<p>He didn’t see me, thank goodness. I probably should have said something to somebody, but who would listen to me? I am the Devil, after all, and Satan is the father of lies. The only person who talked to me was my brother, and if I said anything to that idiot, he’d probably be dead now. So yeah, I got out of town, and went on vacation.</p>
<p>That’s why it annoys me that I get the blame. If they were planning this whole thing then, how can I be the cause of all the trouble now?</p>
<p>The point is that you may be right when you say life can go real nuts sometimes.<br />
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<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>Francesca Vespa studied linguistics. She is neurodivergent, lives in South Australia with two incredible children, as well as cat named Simon and a dog named Diesel. Seven Perfect Days is her debut novel.</p>
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</p><footer><center><a href="http://imgur.com/Jz4xvDH"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/Jz4xvDH.png" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a></center></footer><p></p>Pink Fluffy Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10879645888066599662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4968703044618480555.post-52760990346899805062024-02-21T08:00:00.024-05:002024-02-21T08:00:00.145-05:00Catch and Release (Milwaukee Growlers Football Romance, #3)<div style="margin: 0px auto 15px; text-align: center;">
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<p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/5276099034689980506#"><strong>Catch and Release </strong><b>(Milwaukee Growlers Football Romance, #3)</b></a> By Tracy Solheim<br /><b>Publication date: </b>February 26, 2024<br /><b>Buy Link: </b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4968703044618480555/5276099034689980506#">Amazon</a><br /><b>Genres: </b>Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports<br /><b>Summary:</b></p><blockquote><p><strong><i>A second chance, enemies-to-lovers football romance.</i></strong></p>
<p><i><strong>He’s the pro athlete everyone wants to be.</strong> </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><br />
Quarterback Trey Van Horn didn’t become the league’s MVP by accident. Years of self-discipline and iron-clad control have made him the envy of everyone in and around the game of football. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>But when he comes face-to-face with the one who got away, his tightly managed life is turned upside down. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to score the greatest comeback of his life.</i></p>
<p><i><strong>She’s tired of being every guy’s doormat.</strong> </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><br />
London Headley is on the verge of having the career she’s always dreamed of. Too bad the path to her promotion runs through the guy who broke her heart a decade earlier. So what if everything about the Milwaukee Growlers QB sets her panties on fire? </i></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i>She’s determined to keep things professional. Life has taught her that men will always choose something—or someone—over her. It’s going to take more than a Hail Mary to get her to buy into the fairy tale.</i></p>
<p><i>The only problem? Her lips don’t seem to want to follow the game plan. Not when Trey is executing an all-out blitz to prove he’s worth a second chance.</i></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">—</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>EXCERPT:</strong></p>
<p>“I’m all in,” he repeated softly, his breath teasing the skin near her ear. “You can count on me, London.”</p>
<p><em>Could she?</em></p>
<p>It wasn’t like she had a choice. Besides, Bennie said Trey’s reputation with advertisers was nothing but professional.</p>
<p>“I’d like it if we could get through this without every moment in each other’s presence being a battle,” he added.</p>
<p><em>Well damn if he wasn’t being the mature one.</em></p><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><em><br /></em><p></p>
<p>She was the one being ridiculous by reading too much into everything he said and did, that’s all. If he could approach the situation like a grown up, then so could she. After all, she wasn’t that naïve eighteen-year-old any longer. No way was she falling for Trey Van Horn again. If he could keep things light and businesslike, she would put on her big girl panties and do the same.</p>
<p>But not if he kept touching her. It was impossible for her to think with his body so close to hers. She hurriedly untangled her fingers from his and put some distance between them.</p>
<p>“I’d like that as well.” Too bad her voice didn’t sound as steady and committed to the new plan as she’d like. She managed a smile that she hoped looked more assured than she felt. “I’m looking forward to making this campaign a success.”</p>
<p>He returned her smile with one of his own. Only his bordered on sly, as if he knew what the words were costing her.</p>
<p>“Me, too.” He opened her office door and gestured for her to exit first.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/BookBrushImage-2024-2-13-13-1013.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2024/02/BookBrushImage-2024-2-13-13-1013.jpg" style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" /></a></p>
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<blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">
<p>Author Bio:</p>
<p>USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she's not writing, she's practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is. She's been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she'd rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service--shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at www.tracysolheim.com</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.tracysolheim.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6519003.Tracy_Solheim" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TracySolheimBooks" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/TracyKSolheim" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/tracysolheimauthor/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>GIVEAWAY!</strong><br />
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