Daily Archives: 27/06/2016

BOOK BLITZ ~ Love Is Crazy by Abby Brooks


  Title: Love Is Crazy

Series:Love Is Series #1

By: Abby Brooks


Publication Date: May 30, 2016

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations


What’s the best part about growing up in a small town surrounded by cornfields and cow poop? That’s right. Not much. Especially when you’ve got the heart of a wanderer like I do. Even my name is made up of places.

Dakota London. Destined to travel the world.

Except not really, because in all my twenty-five years, I still haven’t left my hometown.

And then, one day, in true once upon a time fashion, Dominic Kane comes swaggering into the bar where I work. The Dominic Kane. The travel photographer I’ve been following for years, living vicariously through his pictures.

We have this gravity about us. We’re drawn together and couldn’t pull away if we wanted to. This electricity we have, it’s a force of nature.

When he asks me to go with him, it’s like I’m getting everything I ever wanted. But I can’t just leave my life, as small as it may be. Taking a chance like that on a stranger is crazy.


Love is crazy is a stand-alone, full length novel with no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily ever after.

**For a limited time, Love Is Crazy includes Blown Away (Ian & Juliet): The Moore Brothers Book One.** 


Chapter 1


What do you do when the guy you knew better than to go out with steals your purse and disappears when you’re in the bathroom? First, you sling curse words around the restaurant—loudly of course. Maybe bang your fist on a table, causing the silverware to clank against the plates and making all the people around you gasp, jump, and then stare at you like you’re crazy. Then, you call your sisters for help and complain about it with them over margaritas.

At least that’s what I did.

And it hasn’t been working out the way I expected. Not at all.

What did I expect? Comfort. Commiseration. A gentle hand on my shoulder and a kind word for their poor little sister and her bad luck with men.

What am I getting? Not that.

“Come on, Dakota. You just left your purse at the table?” Chelsea, the oldest of us London girls lets loose one of her patented, Judgmental Older Sister sighs and gives me a look that sits somewhere between condescending and sympathetic.

I take a long drink of my margarita—the bartender here at this restaurant is good, but I’m better—and suck in my lips as I swallow. “I didn’t call you out here to point out how this is all my fault.”

“Well of course it’s not all your fault.” Maya, my slightly-sweeter-than-Chelsea-but-still-judgemental-because-she’s-older sister smiles at me as if that will make it all better.

“So it’s still kind of my fault?” And here it comes. All the reasons that Dakota London fucked up once again given to me one line at a time from the two people I trust most in the world.

Chelsea tucks her super straight platinum hair behind her ear and crosses her arms on the table. “Well, you did go out with him even though you met him at the bar called The Bad Apple.”

“Hey! That’s my place of employment, thank you very much! What’s wrong with the bar?”

“It’s called The Bad Apple,” Maya says, as if that clears it all up. “What kind of guys do you think it’s going to attract?”

“I think it’s just the kind of guys I attract.” I drop my chin towards my chest, fully prepared to pout my way through the evening.

Chelsea politely sips at her margarita and puts on the sweetest of faces. “Yeah…” She draws out the word. “About that. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your choices on the man front.”

“See! There you go blaming me again! This is so not my fault.” I gesture at my empty purse and the people at the surrounding tables who are still eyeing me warily. So I got a little mad when I saw The Asshole had stolen my wallet and left me with a huge ass check to pay and no way to pay for it. I don’t think I’m the only one who would find that just a tad upsetting.

“Aren’t you even a little bit tired of having this conversation?” Maya asks with that same mix of condescension and sympathy that Chelsea has been using.

I should have just called Maya and asked for some help paying the bill and getting home. What was I thinking, calling both of them out here and asking them to have some conciliatory drinks with me?

“I’m sorry,” I say, so ready for this night to be over. Isn’t there like a sister code or something where they’re supposed to stick up for me no matter what? “I wasn’t aware that we’ve had the some jerk stole my wallet and stuck me with the bill conversation before.”

“No…” Chelsea picks at the salt on the rim of her margarita glass and hits me with a look. The look. The one that says I’m not going to like what she has to say. “But we have had the some jerk took advantage of you and now you need our help conversation a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“Oh. That one.” I might not like hearing it, but I can’t deny it’s true. I run my hands up into my shoulder length blonde hair. And to think I actually took the time to style it in honor of this night with The Asshole. Wanted to look pretty for him. Just so he could rip me off.

“Yeah. That one.”

“Well. Okay. When you put it that way. I’m very tired of this particular conversation.” I fiddle with the salt shaker in its little metal stand on the table while the waitress come to check on us—eyeing me like I might jump up and bite her or something. “It’s even worse that we’re having it here. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

“Well, I’m sure you handled the whole thing so gracefully,” says Maya with a smile that says she knows just exactly how I handled it. Loudly. With much cussing.

“Oh sure.” I put on a Very Serious and Sweet face and nod. “I handled it with my typical grace and charm.”

Chelsea laughs into her margarita and pulls the glass away just enough to speak. “Is that why everyone keeps staring at us?” She takes a long drink and sits the glass down. She’s still laughing, but it’s not at me anymore. It’s because of me. I know she’s always secretly admired my ability to say whatever I’m thinking without worrying what people will think of me. Just like I’ve always admired her ability to hold her tongue when it’s appropriate.

“Maybe.” I draw out the word. “I’m very threatening.”

Maya laughs. “Oh yes. All five foot three inches of you. The scariest little blonde thing in at least three counties.”

“It’s the tattoo,” I say, flashing my wrist to show off the three tiny birds taking flight there. “Terrifying.”

“Utterly.” Chelsea nods knowingly.

“You know,” I say, drawing up my shoulders and releasing them with a sigh. “You two are my favoritest people. Ever.” I mean it. Chelsea and Maya are my best friends. A bond made all the stronger because we shared the same room for most of our lives.

“Sure,” says Maya. “You say that now that you don’t have a way to pay for the drinks.”

“Or the meal you had with that jerk.” Chelsea shakes her head and that Judgy Big Sister look creeps back into her eyes. “Let me guess. You guys had appetizers and dessert.”

“And it was his idea,” Maya adds while I nod, pouting.

“I am such an idiot.” The Asshole had suggested we go all out. Order everything we could possibly want, without worrying about anything. And here I’d thought he was just being romantic…

Chelsea and Maya exchange a look, one that makes me wonder how long they’ve been waiting for a chance to say whatever they’re about to say.

“About that…” Chelsea takes a drink and eyes me with the same wary look the rest of the people in this stupid restaurant have been giving me for the last hour or so. I sit back and prepare myself for whatever they have to say.

“We think you should be more selective about the guys you date.” Maya says it in one big rush of words and then sits back with worry clenching her eyebrows together.

“In fact…” Chelsea sits back, too. The same look of concern tightening her eyes. “We think you should be more selective about everything in your life.” She pauses. Watches me like I’m a wounded tiger who might spring up and eat her at any moment.

I nod. I’d like to say that I have no idea why they’re acting so nervous right now, but I do have a tendency to react emotionally. They’re probably waiting for me to cry. Or yell. Or storm off and leave them with the bill. I won’t lie. I consider all three. But since I pretty much agree with them, I just take a careful drink of my margarita and wait for them to continue.

With another quick glance to Maya, Chelsea leans forward and unleashes The Speech. “You’re so much more than a bartender who works at a cheap bar. You’re so smart. So talented.”

“And too pretty for the jerks you keep picking up.” Maya reaches out and puts her hand on mine.

“What happened to the girl who wanted to travel? The girl who always said even her names were places and if that wasn’t a sign that she was supposed to see the world, then what was? The girl who used to write?”

I clear my throat and fiddle with the salt shaker again. “Travel costs money I don’t have and writing sure won’t pay the bills.” I shrug, trying not to show them how much the realization that real life sucks bothers me. “Besides. I like making drinks at The Bad Apple. Never a dull night, that’s for sure.”

Which was true. I do like the energy of talking to different people all night long. Of the music playing super loud. Of the lights careening off the bottles of liquor lining the shelves on the wall behind the bar. So I’m not a physical therapist like Chelsea or a pediatrician like Maya. So I’m not on the traditional London Fast Track to Success. That doesn’t bother me. At least not a lot. But I am getting really tired of picking up jerks.

“So what do I do?” I ask and hold up a hand as both of my sisters suck in a big breath as if they have an entire novel’s worth of advice for me. “About the not dating jerks thing. The rest of my life is fine.”

Which it is. Kind of. I just need a little more time to figure out what I want to do when I grow up is all.

My sisters both close their mouth against whatever it was they were going to say and each of them lets out a long breath. Chelsea bites her bottom lip while Maya twirls her finger in her long brown hair and looks at the table.

“My life is fine.” I repeat myself because clearly they were more interested in talking about my career choice and living situation than they were about the guys I go out with. “But I have a seriously bad track record with the men. What do I do?”

The girls are quiet. Still. Some more. I’m busy trying to ignore the rush of indignation and irritation roaring through my veins. I’m only twenty-five. So what if they were both college graduates by the time they were my age? I’m not them. That’s been clear our whole lives.

“For one,” Chelsea finally says. “No more picking up guys at the bar.”

“At the bar or at a bar. Because where else am I supposed to pick them up?”

“At bars in general. Just think about the kind of people who hang out in bars all the time.”

“Uhh … the fun kind?” I know Chelsea’s only trying to help, but I love spending my nights off at a bar, drinking in the energy of many people gathered in one place, the music and the dancing, the laughter. Hell, I strike up conversations with strangers just for a chance to see life through their point of view.

“Okay,” says Maya, clearly seeing the landmine Chelsea just stepped onto. “Just the bar. No more bad apples from The Bad Apple.” She chuckles at herself and takes a sip of her margarita, amusement dancing in her eyes.

‘Okay.” I bob my head in agreement. “It’s probably a bad idea to be dating people from work anyway. Next?”

“He needs a home.”

“And a good car.”

“No tattoos!”

“A decent job!”

“A life plan!”

My sisters ricochet their requirements right off each other, one after the other, information coming at me machine gun style.

“Clearly you’ve had time to think about this.”

“We may have talked about it once or twice.”

“Okay, so you want him to have a home, a car, a steady job, a life plan, more brain cells than tattoos. I think I can get behind that.” Even if I don’t have one single clue as to where I was going to find a guy like that. A guy who met those requirements would count as an actual, honest to goodness adult. I’m not exactly the best at adulting and the guys that end up in my circles aren’t that good at adulting either.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Just remember,” says Chelsea.

Maya and Chelsea took one last look at each other and in then in one rush of words so perfect and in tune they might as well have been choreographed they hit me with their most important requirement.

“You can’t meet him at The Bad Apple.”

Chapter 2


Wouldn’t you know, Maya and Chelsea throw down the No More Douchebags gauntlet just in time for the most beautiful male creature to ever walk this earth to swagger right on into The Bad Apple and have a seat at the bar. I’m not lying when I say his entrance is totally worthy of any Hollywood movie ever. He even goes so far as to pause and flash me a swoon-worthy smile before hopping up onto a stool at the bar, laying his phone and laptop down beside him.

But this is where the Hollywood hero picture falls apart a little because who brings a laptop into a bar?

A businessman? A tech mogul? A guy who just totally just took a selfie, flashing that same, slightly familiar and still swoon-worthy smile at his phone? Who knows about the first two, but that last one? Yeah. That just happened.

What kind of guy takes selfies at a bar? Maybe he’s less businessman or tech mogul and more college student or gym rat. But he looks too world-wise to be in college. And not muscle-bound enough to be a gym rat. Not that he’s old and out of shape. He defies classification. Which makes him interesting.

And boy do I love interesting.

“What can I get you?” I lean on the bar and wait to steal this guy’s attention away from his technology.

He glances at me, deems me barely worthy of his time, and goes back to messing with his phone. “Whiskey. Neat.”

Great. Even his drink is bad ass.

And his voice is as dark as his hair, as rich as his drink. His eyes are so brown they look almost black in the low light of The Bad Apple. He glances at me again, probably because I haven’t done anything but stare at him since he sat down. Flushing, I turn away and reach for the Jack Daniels—a safe bet in a bar like this one. If he had a brand, he would have told me. As I pour his drink, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” I ask as I slide his drink across the bar towards him

He nods without looking up from his phone. “Yep. Congratulations. You are about to become mildly famous on the internet.”

He waves his phone at me as if that explains everything and I see he’s logged into Instagram and is clearly in the process of making a post. A bunch of things click into place.

My jaw drops. “You’re Dominic Kane!” There may or may not be a goofy grin stretching my face into something that somewhat resembles a fangirl smile. “The travel photographer, right?”

“None other,” he says and drops his chin in a slight bow. He flares his fingers and smiles. “I didn’t know I was that recognizable.”

“I may or may not be one of your biggest fans.” I smile, hoping that I sound more cool and coy than desperate and gushy. “I kind of live vicariously through your pictures.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. I’ve always wanted to travel, but alas…” I glance around the quickly filling bar. “I don’t exactly have the kind of job that allows for it.”

A large herd of actual college kids claim about half the bar in a swarm of testosterone and monosyllabic conversation that fights for dominance over the music throbbing over the speakers. I nod towards Dominic and head over to take their orders, leaning in to hear them over the general cacophony that is The Bad Apple. Of course, they can’t resist flirting and double of course, The Bad Apple doesn’t appear to be their first stop tonight. I fend off a few drunken advances and fill their orders, constantly aware of the guy at the other end of the bar.

The super-hot guy with the coolest job ever.

The mildly famous internet celebrity.

The Instagram personality with over a hundred thousand followers.

The YouTuber with a ton of subscribers.

The guy with the dark hair and dark eyes and a twisting series of tattoos poking out from under his shirt sleeve. The guy who has been on just about every continent on this planet and has the pictures to prove it. A guy who has to have his fair share of interesting stories to share with me, to help me imagine—if only for a second—that I’m anywhere but dumb old Ohio surrounded by anything but rows of corn.

I finish with the college jerks and head back towards Dominic, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a fish to a lure, a paperclip to a magnet. Like lightning to water. Like plants to sunlight. Like birds to the air and fish to the sea…

Basically, I couldn’t have avoided going to stand next to him if I wanted to.

“Ready for another?” I ask, indicating his empty glass.

Dominic nods and fiddles with his phone while I pour him another couple fingers of Jack.

“That was pro-level stuff over there,” he says, indicating the jock herd with a nod of his head. “I don’t think they even realize how shot down they actually are.”

I shrug. “Can’t tell them what I’m really thinking or my tips suffer.” I lean on the bar again, rising up on my tiptoes to close the distance between us. “Gotta let them think they have a chance.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” He smiles in a way that tells me he totally doesn’t believe that. “Making me feel famous so I leave you a good tip?”

“Totally.” I nod and smile and disappear to check on the frat boys.

The rest of the night passes in a flurry of customers and drinks and music so loud I know I’m going to have a headache by the end of the night. Dominic stays. And in between the surge of drink orders, I talk to him.

As much as I try to hide it, I’m totally fangirling. Dominic Kane really is my absolute most favorite person to follow on Instagram. Not only are his pictures truly stunning, but he’s approachable as far as internet personalities go. He responds to the people who comment on his posts, strikes up conversations with them, shares his stories as if they were old friends. I’ve gotten a kick out of his sense of humor for a while now. I’ve never actually commented on his stuff because that’s just not me, but I have liked the hell out of most of them.

The evening stretches on and the bar—which always starts out quiet before it gets too loud—is on its way back to quiet again when I finally park myself near Dominic. “So here’s the thing,” I say, leaning on the bar again. “You took my picture, so I think I should get a picture of you in return.”

“Oh yeah? Is that how this works?” His laptop is closed and his phone is face down beside him and I finally have his full attention. And wow. I’m not sure I was prepared for the power behind those eyes. This is a man who sees stuff for a living. What exactly does he see when he looks at me? I fight the urge to fiddle with my hair. The last thing I want him to see is me being nervous.

“Totally. A picture for a picture.” I nod as if I’m talking about well-known social customs, as if what I’m talking about has been handed down from generation to generation throughout the ages. I pull my phone out of my back pocket like things have already been decided. Which they have, actually.

“You’re a much more interesting subject than I am,” he says as I point my phone at him.

I actually snort and immediately regret it. “No.” I drop my phone and hit him with my most incredulous look. “I’m just a bartender in a little bar in Ohio. You’re a world traveler who inspires hundreds of thousands of people on the internet. You win the interesting game.” I lift my phone up again and Dominic shrugs.

“Let me prove it. Come here.”

Intrigued, I do what he says, coming around the bar to stand next to him. He hops off the stool and takes my phone from me. Leans down to wrap his arm around my shoulder and holds it out at arm’s length. “Say cheese.”

I smile broadly and say cheese. Dominic doesn’t take the picture. I turn to him, confused and get distracted studying his profile, suddenly so very aware of just how much bigger he is than me. How close we are. How he smells like whiskey. How much better looking he is up close.

And that’s when I hear the click of the camera on my phone.

“I so wasn’t ready!” I cry and try to snatch the phone from him so I can delete what’s sure to be one of the worst pictures of me ever.

Dominic chuckles as he holds the phone out of my reach, an easy thing since I’m tiny and he’s apparently not. “Hold on, now,” he says. “Who’s the professional here?”

“Professional or not, I have every right to see that picture and delete it if it’s awful.”

“It’s not awful.”

Dominic lowers the phone and hands it to me. “Just so you know, that picture is my intellectual property and I have every right to sue you if you delete it without my permission.”

I look at him, something stern and real in his voice making me wonder if he’s actually serious. “I won’t delete it.” I slide open the phone and find the picture and just stare.

There he is, smiling that smile that I’ve come to know through so many pictures in so many different places. He’s handsome, of course, always is, his dark features giving him that mysterious look while the warmth of his smile makes him feel like an old friend.

But the woman tucked into his arm? That’s so not me. Dakota London is a tiny blonde, a fun-sized woman. People call me a disco ball. I’m shiny and perky and my nose is slightly too large for my face. I smile too wide for pictures and snort a little when I laugh.

The woman in the picture is none of those things. Well, sure, she looks tiny, dwarfed by Dominic. And yes, she’s blonde, the perfect yin to his dark yang, but there’s a depth to her eyes that doesn’t belong on my face. My lips are parted and pulled up in this perfect little Mona Lisa smile as I study Dominic’s profile. My eyes are lit with the power of deep thoughts and the possibility of intriguing personality.

“See?” he asks, so close that I can feel the warmth of his skin against my cheek even though we’re not touching. The space between us so small that it almost doesn’t exist. “Who’s the interesting subject in this picture?”

I shake my head and drop the phone, careful to turn off the screen so I don’t accidentally delete the picture. “Yeah, but that’s no fair. You waited until I was distracted. In fact, you distracted me on purpose. And like you said, you’re the professional here. You know how to make a blade of grass seem interesting.”

“A blade of grass is interesting if you take the time to really look at it.”

I slide my phone back into my pocket and shake my head. “Nope. You just destroyed your own argument with that nonsense. Don’t get me wrong. It was all very poetic and lovely, but I’m a realist. You travel the world. I work at a bar in the same town I grew up in. One of these things is not like the other.” I wander back around to my space behind the bar.

Dominic doesn’t argue, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole way. And maybe, just maybe, I keep thinking about what he said and wondering if he really finds me as interesting as I find him.

And damn if I’m not busy mentally checking off my sisters’ requirements. Sure, Dominic Kane has a few tattoos, and sure, I met him at The Bad Apple, and okay, he doesn’t actually live around here so anything long-term is off the table.


He has a great job. Travels the world and inspires people all over the internet. Surely Chelsea and Maya could forgive the tattoos and the place we met because he is so damn interesting and not at all at risk of being a serious relationship. Surely they would be cool with me spending more time with Dominic Kane, my most favorite Instagramer of all time. Right?



Abby Brooks is a romance author who lives with the love her life and their three kids in a small town in Ohio. She loves dancing in the kitchen, laughing with people she loves, and reading way too late into the night. 


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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Stand by T. Gephart




Title: Stand
Series: Black Addiction #3
Author: T. Gephart

Genre: Rock Star Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2016

Good times didn’t last forever. While Beth Hart had enjoyed being the sometimes girlfriend of Max Reynolds—the hot bass player for Black Addiction—she knew it would never be more than a casual fling. He was destined for greatness, and she cared too much to hold him back. So, before she lost her heart and her sanity, she said goodbye to the Bronx, moved to Manhattan and left her party-girl days in the past—along with Max.

Nothing made Max happier than being a success in his own right. And in the last few years, he and his band had well and truly earned it. Moving to the city and enjoying the spoils of his new lifestyle made perfect sense, and he loved his new address. It wasn’t his new huge penthouse apartment that got him excited; it was his new neighbor. The one girl he regretted letting go—Beth.
He wanted her back and would do anything to make it happen. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. 



Purchase Links






Prologue – Beth


It was the calm before the storm.
Neither of us had spoken about it last night, both too caught up in each other to care what it all meant. He was irresistible and I saw no reason to fight the urge. No matter how many times we drifted apart, we always seemed to end up back together. Maybe it was sheer magnetism, maybe it was his amazing smile? Or maybe it was his delicious well-toned body that did amazing things to mine? It could have been any of those reasons, but mostly it was because of the way he made me feel.
Some of my best memories featured the man sleeping soundly beside me. And it wasn’t even about the sex, although . . . yeah, his talents weren’t only restricted to the stage. There was just something about him. Something bigger than what he already was, and I knew living in the Bronx and working at Staples wasn’t his destiny.
Sadly, neither was I.
International rock sensation Power Station had seen it too, signing up Black Addiction—Max’s band—to be their support act for a huge stadium tour. They’d already wowed the crowds at Madison Square Garden, the other crowds would follow too and then the world would see what I already knew.
Max Reynolds was a rock star.
We’d taken a break from each other around three months ago. No messy break up, no drama—just our lives taking us in different directions. It wasn’t a new thing for us, and in some ways, it just worked. But last night wasn’t us getting back together; last night was something else entirely.
His eyes were shut tight as he slept, completely unaware as I watched him. His perfect lips parted just slightly as the air whistled past. And I knew this would be the last time we could do this; at some point we’d stop the revolving door.
“Hey.” He slid open an eye, his trademark panty-melting grin not far behind. “You’re awake. Feeling okay?”
“Yep, I know better than to try and keep up with you and your band.” I couldn’t help but smile back. “How about you? You had a pretty serious commitment with that bottle of Jäger.” Don’t know why I asked; I’d never seen him rocking the next morning regret like most of us did.
“Never felt better.” He smirked, his fingers trailing up my side, tickling my skin until they reached my breast. His talented fingers palmed me, hinting that he had other things on his mind other than his lack of hangover. “And my only commitment last night was pleasing you. So, tell me . . . how did I do?”
God, he was smooth.
He had this uncanny ability to make you feel like you were the only woman in the room, like nothing else mattered, and even if I knew it was temporary, I loved it.
“I think you got all the confirmation you needed last night.” I grinned as I nestled into his side. “If you want your ego stroked, you’ll have to go elsewhere.”
“That’s not what I want you to stroke, Beth,” he whispered into my ear, his voice loaded with suggestion.
“I should probably go.” It’s not that I didn’t want to stay, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know where this would end up. Sleep was not part of that equation.
“Why? Stay in bed with me.” His muscular, inked arms caged me against his body, the heat between us having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. “I’m almost positive you won’t regret it.”
I wouldn’t regret it.
I never would.
But in my heart I knew that this was the end of the road for the two of us. And as much as I wanted to keep going by his side, he had to walk it alone. How much longer could I stay? A week, a month, a year? He needed to be single. Free to do whatever he wanted to do when that spotlight finally hit him and not wonder if it would have been different without a girlfriend ball-and-chain. I wouldn’t be the source of anyone’s regrets, not least someone as special as Max. He was on the cusp of something great, and I cared too much to hold him back.
“You need sleep, you have a show tonight.” My hands moved over his chest. “We both know if I stay, there will be no sleep.” I tried in vain to free myself from his arm prison, my attempt laughable as he pulled me closer.
“Sleep’s overrated.” The words vibrated against my ear as I closed my eyes and remembered the moment. The one that would be the last time in his arms.
“You might not be dealing with a hangover, but you can’t outrun fatigue. Sleep and I’ll see you when you get back in town.”
It was a lie, an easy one to tell, knowing that when he came back things would be different. We would be different, and I think deep down he knew it was goodbye.
“Beth.” His lips pressed against the back of my neck, my short black hair offering me little protection as his hot breath defied logic and gave me goose bumps. “We’ll always end up like this, you and me.”
Not always, not anymore.
I didn’t dare say it. More because I didn’t want to hear it even though I knew it was the right thing to do.
“You going to let me go?” I asked, his arms showing no sign of releasing me
“For now.” He kissed my neck before loosening his hold and allowing me to sit up.
“You’re going to do great on this tour; this is what you’ve been waiting for.” I didn’t have to even force the smile on my face, I was genuinely happy for him. “Your life is about to change.”
“Whatever happens, happens.” His arms flexed and anchored at the back of his neck. “I’m still going to be me, that won’t ever change.”
“Good.” I fished my T-shirt from the edge of the bed and threw it over my head. “And I’ll be your biggest fan.” It was an easy promise to make; being supportive was something that I planned to continue. And something I could do even if it wasn’t by his side.
“Just promise you won’t get all weird and start stealing my underwear to sell on eBay.” He watched me as I slid on my own and grabbed my jeans from the floor.
“So, I should put back the pair I have stuffed into my purse?” I turned back to face him as I pulled up my jeans, batting my eyes seductively for effect.
I hadn’t actually stolen a pair of his boxer briefs, but it was easier than the inevitable so-this-is-where-it-ends that needed to happen.
“Call me, Beth.” He didn’t hesitate, his eyes looking directly into mine. It was as if he already knew that I probably wouldn’t but wouldn’t push the issue either. It was a weird stalemate, so much left unsaid, but all those words not spoken completely understood.
“See ya, Max.” I allowed myself one last look at him before scooping up my shoes and shuffling out of the room. The door closed behind me giving me a resting place for a second before I walked out of his house.
We both needed this. It wasn’t just for him; this was for me too. Together neither of us would reach our full potential, and we owed each other that. I was more than just a bass player’s girlfriend. I was more than a girl with tattoos, funky hair and a short skirt. If I stayed . . . he was too easy to fall in love with.
There was no sadness when I left; my heart wasn’t breaking. I was excited about what the future held for both of us and while I’d miss him, someday we would both be thankful.
In time we would both move on, and hopefully when he thought of me, he’d remember good things.
I would always, when I thought of him.



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Author Bio

T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.T’s approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.

With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.

While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have traveled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley, the wonder dog.

An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident and who didn’t lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. T set herself the challenge to write something that was interesting, compelling and yet easy enough to read that was still enjoyable. Pulling from her own past “colorful” experiences and the amazing personalities she has surrounded herself with, she had no shortage of inspiration. With a strong slant on erotic fiction, her core characters are empowered women who don’t have to sacrifice their femininity. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn’t let it go.

T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colorful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey – she is well and truly enjoying the ride!

Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled.


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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ The Wicked North by Gina Danna


Celebrate the release of Gina Danna’s THE WICKED NORTH

From USA Today bestselling author, Gina Danna, comes a historical romance full of deceit, betrayal and passion that ignite the flames of love between two lovers on opposite sides of a war.



1 winner will receive a $25 Amazon Giftcard
& 3 winners will receive an ecopy of choice from Gina’s backlist


Rafflecopter Link:

About The Wicked North:

Bound by duty and honor to wear the Union blue, a Southern-born West Point officer fights his own desires and the need to protect the woman he abandoned, he disobeys his orders to find her, as the Army of the Potomac marches toward her family’s home near Richmond.

She has the guts and willpower to protect her home from the hated Yankee aggressors, but when that traitor to the South appears at her door, she’s torn between wanting to shoot him and to be held in his arms again. Can she forgive him for their past indiscretion or does she turn him in to be executed, a traitor to both sides?

In the summer of 1862, her family’s plantation becomes the personal battle ground between them as deceit, betrayal and passion ignite the flames of love and hate that burn brighter than the roar of the guns and rivers of blood surrounding them.

Available at: Amazon

Exclusive Excerpt:

Rose Hill Plantation, Silvers’ residence. Parlor game of the 19th century called “Kissing the Corners” – a kissing game where a gentleman was stationed in each corner of the room and the ladies went to get a kiss. It was a ‘forfeit’ to redeem for losing in an earlier game. Emma, our heroine, finds herself faced with kissing Jack, the man she so wanted to kiss but this was her first time kissing. Would he kiss her or not?

Next was Jack. She walked to his corner, gazing into his glowing emerald eyes.

“Emma,” he whispered.

She heard voices behind her. The others had already finished. She was the last. Turning her head slightly, she looked for Caroline. She caught a glimpse of her sister in her buttercup yellow dress, talking to Abigail, Charles and the twins.

“I’m right here, Emma,” Jack said, drawing her attention back to him.

He was too handsome. She wanted to both kiss him and avoid him. A tingle in her belly spread up to her nipples.

When Jack smiled his devilish smile, Emma felt as though she would turn into a puddle at his feet. Her mouth went dry as she stood there, frozen.

“Why didn’t you ever write to me?”

The question rattled her, bringing her back to her senses. “I sent you a letter, but I never received one from you.”

He quietly chuckled. “I sent you a letter, hoping you’d respond.”

“I never received any correspondence from you,” she said.

“Hmm, I never got yours either.” His low drawl reached inside, soothing her. “But,” he continued, “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

She opened her mouth, but not a sound came out.


Jack stood still. She fidgeted. The silk dress clung to her breasts and her narrow waist. Her cage crinoline maintained a respectable space between them, regardless of how much he wanted her closer. He put his hands at the waist of her skirt and felt her tremble. She bit her lower lip. Oh, how he wanted to soothe that lip.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer. The motion unbalanced her, and her hands sought his arms. When she still didn’t lean up to kiss him, he brought her even closer, his eyes fixed on her lower lip as her teeth released it.

He wouldn’t meet her halfway. This could be the only time he’d have the advantage, and he didn’t want to waste it. Because Emma’s feet were slightly lifted from the floor, she gripped his arms tightly.

He brought her to him. As he kissed Emma, his tongue traced her lower lip before his mouth enveloped hers. He wanted her to open her mouth, and he prodded the crease between her lips, coaxing her with his tongue. She parted her lips but pulled her head back as his tongue invaded her mouth.

She tasted like strawberries and wine. It was an intriguing taste and he wanted more. She felt soft and warm against him. He knew he was pushing the limits of the game and propriety, but when he glimpsed her eyelashes feathered on her cheek, he almost growled. Abruptly, Jack released Emma and set her on the floor, his hands remaining at her waist. He could feel her shiver as she looked into his face, her eyes wide open. He smiled.

Within a second, she raced away from him as fast as she could in a ladylike manner. Jack smirked. She had enjoyed his kiss. With his head cocked to the side, he walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy.


When Emma had stepped away from Jack, she did everything within her power to control her nerves. Her lips felt swollen. His hands had left an impression on her waist—an impression that wasn’t his to make. Her next and last corner was Billy’s. He grinned at her as she tried to maintain a steady gait, but the memory of Jack’s kiss tingled down her spine, making her feel hot and cold simultaneously. Stop it! She gave her head a small shake and stopped, inhaling a large breath before returning Billy’s smile.

But she wanted to kiss Jack.

                No, what he did was take advantage of the situation. How vulgar of him! Why did she crave more?

                “Is something wrong, Emma?”

Conflicting thoughts clouded her mind, and she didn’t realize she was already in front of Billy. Politely dismissing his concern, she said, “No, no, nothing is wrong.”

Billy’s head lowered slightly for her. “Kiss me, or pay a higher price forfeit.”

Emma was curious about what the higher price might be, but, after Jack’s advances, she ignored it. Composing herself, she met Billy’s lips part way.

He didn’t play with her lips nor press to enter her mouth. In a very gentlemanly manner, he gave her a quick kiss and bowed away. No fire came from his lips as it had from Jack’s. If anything, she was gravely disappointed that Billy hadn’t tried to kiss her like Jack had. She should have been glad, but she wasn’t.

Like a good girl, she placed her hand on his sleeve and let him escort her back to the others. Caroline enticed them all to start charades. Jack was with them, a devilish grin on his face that Emma had the sudden urge to slap. When his glance fell her way, excitement raced through her veins, and she had the strangest sensation her nipples were tightening. Tamping down the fury of emotions Jack caused, she spent the rest of the evening at Billy’s and Caroline’s side and away from Jack.

About the Author:
Gina Danna

A USA Today Bestselling author, Gina Danna was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and has spent the better part of her life reading. History has always been her love and she spent numerous hours devouring historical romance stories, always dreaming of writing one of her own. After years of writing historical academic papers to achieve her undergraduate and graduate degrees in History, and then for museum programs and exhibits, she found the time to write her own historical romantic fiction novels.

Now residing in Texas, under the supervision of her three dogs, she writes amid a library of research books, with her only true break away is to spend time with her other lifelong dream – her Arabian horse – with him, her muse can play.

Find out more: Website / Facebook / Twitter




RELEASE BLITZ ~ Destination Connelly by K.L. Kreig



Title: Destination Connelly
Series: The Colloway Brothers #4
Author: K.L. Kreig

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2016
Treachery. Destiny. Forgiveness.  She’s the one woman he could never shake or forget. Nora Cantres was buried so fucking far inside Connelly he didn’t have breath left for anyone else. She’d managed to avoid him for more than a decade, but now the running stops. He’s made damn sure of it. Yet just when he’s got her in his bed, in his life, the secret she’s been hiding is unexpectedly revealed, blowing his entire world sky high. 

Connelly Colloway was every man’s man. Confident. A little cocky. A whole lot of sexy. Once upon a time Nora thought he was hers, but then he betrayed her in the worst possible way, setting them on paths that didn’t include the other. Now he’s wormed his way back into her life and while she’s never loved anyone but him, she can’t let him back inside. She has too much to hide, too much to lose. 

But when Karma finally catches up to them the only question is: can he forgive her monumental deceit or will she lose everything she holds dear, including Connelly? 

Book 4 in a 4 book series. Each book features a different brother and each can be read as a STANDALONE. To get the full Colloway Brother experience, however, it’s most enjoyable to read in order. 

***Mature readers only, 18+. Features alpha men with foul language and penchant for hot sex.



Purchase Links


Also Available


Author Bio
I’m just a regular ol’ Midwest girl who likes Game of Thrones and am obsessed with Modern Family and The Goldbergs. I run, I eat, I run, I eat. It’s a vicous cycle. I love carbs, but there’s love-hate relationship with my ass and thighs. Mostly hate. I like a good cocktail (oh hell…who am I kidding? I love any cocktail). I’m a huge creature of habit, but I’ll tell you I’m flexible. I read every single day and if I don’t get a chance…watch the hell out, I’m a raving bitch. My iPad and me: BFFs. I’m direct and I make no apologies for it. I swear too much. I love alternative music and in my next life I want to be a bad-ass female rocker. I hate, hate, hate spiders, telemarketers, liver, acne, winter and loose hairs that fall down my shirt (don’t ask, it’s a thing).
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EXCERPT REVEAL/PRE-ORDER BLITZ ~ Chaos Bound by Sarah Castille



Holt spotted Naiya at a table with Ally as soon as he entered the bar.

Ever watchful, Tank stood beside Naiya, his hand in his cut, his eyes darting from side to side as he searched for danger.

“Darlin’.” Holt leaned over to kiss her and she pulled away. He supposed he deserved that, but right now he wasn’t in a mood to play games. His brothers had taken Michael out back to await Holt’s justice and after Holt had let loose his anger, he wanted nothing more than to hold his woman in his arms. Preferably, naked and in his bed. But first he’d have to gain her forgiveness.

Naiya glared, her eyes dropping to his blood-smeared hand. “Is that Maurice’s blood? Ally said you beat him up.”

He pushed her hair back behind her ear, trailing his fingers down her neck. God, she was beautiful. Sexy. Fiery. And his. What the hell had he been thinking walking away and leaving her unprotected? “Nah. That’s Michael’s blood. I had to teach him a lesson. He made the mistake of messing with a Sinner’s woman in a Sinner bar in the Sinners’ town.”

Naiya stared at him aghast. “You beat him up, too?”

“Anyone who hurts you. Anyone who touches you. Anyone who makes you scared. Anyone who makes you cry. I’ll rip out their hearts, break their bones, and drown in their fucking blood to keep you safe.”

“That’s kind of romantic in a terrifying, morbid, ruthless, outlaw-biker kinda way,” Ally said. “Doug just says ‘love ya, babe’ or ‘keep safe.’”

“It’s only romantic if the guy is actually around to do it,” Naiya said, slapping Holt’s hand away. “But if he drops you off at a hotel in a strange town and leaves you to fend for yourself while he drives off to get himself killed, it loses its effect.”

“You looked after yourself pretty good.” Holt pulled his chair closer, rested his hand on her knee. “Smart move coming here when you saw Michael sniffing around.”

Naiya pushed at his hand, but he held her fast, stroking his thumb along the inside of her thigh.

“What was I supposed to do?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Go to the police? I may have been living a civilian life, but I spent six years with the Black Jacks. I know the kind of power the clubs have. I know how things work. And I know I’ll be happy when I leave town and get away from all things MC.”

“You also know you gotta listen to your man. And your man wants you to stay with the Sinners until I’ve dealt with Viper.” Holt tilted her head back with one finger under her chin, then leaned in and kissed her, his free hand ready to grab her wrist if she tried to slap him.

Which she did, because his Naiya had a spine of steel.

“Who says you’re my man?”

“I do.” He met her gaze, watched her eyes darken to brown.

“It sure didn’t feel like you were my man when you left.” She pulled away, and Holt gritted his teeth. Didn’t she understand that he had come back for her? That for now he had put aside his quest for revenge to keep her safe?

“When I put you in the position of having to pull that weapon, I realized I’d brought you back into a world you don’t want to be in. I didn’t want to waste any time getting you out.” He traced the bow of her mouth, pleased when her lips parted at his touch. She couldn’t be that angry. After all, she was still here, and she had come to the brothers to ask them to warn him.

“I can take myself out.” She drew his hand away. “I’ve got interviews set up in different states . . .” Her voice trailed off when Holt frowned. How could he protect her if she left? Viper would send men to chase her wherever he went. Sweat trickled down his back. This reunion wasn’t going exactly as expected.

“You don’t leave,” he blurted out. “You don’t go.”

She studied him for a long moment, and then she stroked a light finger over his jaw, her voice soft, as if they were alone and not in the bar with the Sinners watching them and Tank and Ally sitting at their table. Like she’d forgiven him for leaving her. “You’re lucky I understand your bossy, evil biker ways.”

Yes! Forgiven. Holt heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m gonna take you back to the clubhouse and show you just how evil I can be.” He covered her hand with his, and pressed his lips to her fingertips. Her sharp intake of breath made him instantly hard. And suddenly it all didn’t matter. Viper. Michael. His status in the club. All he wanted was this woman who took away the pain and the darkness; who made him feel whole again.



chaos bound

Chaos Bound releases June 28th.


Pre-order your copy TODAY!

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:






After enduring months of torture at the hands of the Black Jacks MC, and betrayed by his own club, Holt “T-Rex” Savage, a junior member of the Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, will stop at nothing to get revenge. But falling for a beautiful woman with dangerous ties to his sworn enemy was never part of the plan…

Raised by the Black Jacks, Naiya Kelly grew up fast, furiously, and with little to lose. But now that she’s put her MC days behind her, she is free to do what she wants—until she meets a man who imprisons her, body and soul. She swore she’d never give her heart to a biker, but Holt is the most passionate, protective man she’s ever known. But will Holt be forced to betray his one true love to exact his revenge?

Chaos Bound is the fourth book in a full-length, standalone series by New York Times bestselling author, Sarah Castille, featuring red-hot, hard-riding bikers and the women who can’t help but love them



The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club Series

Reading Order

Rough Justice
(Book One)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1JShtlC

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Q7GYPA

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PJiwJi

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1IWH0uJ

iBooks: http://apple.co/1LDEmYN

Beyond the Cut
(Book Two)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1PJi4uH

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Q7GSHt

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1LAC0cz

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BmsC76

iBooks: http://apple.co/1Szs34y

Sinner’s Steel
(Book Three)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1h8YO9T

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Vquk0u

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1MF4YtE

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1O6MKob

iBooks: http://apple.co/1Ljfwl3

About the Author:sarah castille

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sarah Castille worked and travelled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them. Her books include the bestselling “Redemption” fighter romance series, and the dark, gritty Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club romance series.

Stalk Sarah Here: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | Pinterest | TSU | Newsletter

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Unbelievable by Callie Harper


Cover Design: Sommer Stein / Perfect Pear

Release Date: June 27, 2016



Throw together a billionaire CEO who always gets his way and a feisty environmental activist set on shutting down his latest real estate development, and you know there’s going to be sparks.

We all know opposites attract, but the kind of heat between these two is next level. Only an unbelievable set of circumstances could let loose a passion this hot. Like if the two of them got marooned on a breathtakingly gorgeous, uninhabited tropical island…

That spark? Now it’s a blazing fire…

NOTE: Unbelievable is a standalone hot adult romance. It’s the fourth story in the Beg for It series about the dominant, alpha males in the Kavanaugh family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.



Purchase Links

Unbelievable Teaser Needing


$20 Amazon Gift Card

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Unbelievable teaser Lips NEW

About the Author

Callie Harper writes hot, fun, page-turning romances. She is powered by coffee, wickedly sexy bad boys, and all things funny, intentional or otherwise. Born on the East Coast where she learned the joys of fast-paced sarcastic banter, she and her family are now kickin’ it in the West Coast sunshine. On any given day there’s a good chance you’ll find Callie outdoors enjoying the gorgeous Bay Area, but if she’s indoors she’ll likely be reading, writing or eating, preferably all at once.


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RELEASE BLITZ ~ You and Me by Veronica Larsen


This bite-sized romance is perfect for the summer!


You and Me will become your new summer favorite!




Amazon US:

Amazon UK:



It all started in the pouring rain. His wet shirt plastered to his hard body. My drenched hair strewn across my face.

We bantered. He held the door. I found out his name.

And for a half a second, I fell hard.

Then the record stopped. Forget his quick wit, those biceps, and insanely disarming clear blue eyes. The sexy sonofabitch proved he’d be just another mistake.

But Jackson won’t give up that easily. He’s determined to show me that opposites can not only attract, they can ignite.

Can he and I become an us? Or did any chance we had at a future already get washed away?




About the Author:

Veronica Larsen‘s romance novels are angst-driven and steamy. They tend to feature strong female leads who keep their male counterparts on their toes. Veronica enjoys building intense chemistry and anticipation while creating believable, down-to-earth romances. She’s an avid reader of all genres, coffee addict, and a Harry Potter fanatic.

Connect with Veronica:

Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads


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