Category Archives: Blurb
RELEASE BLITZ – Protector in a Kilt (Kilted Hearts #4) by Kait Nolan
Protector in a Kilt
Kilted Hearts Book 4
Kait Nolan
Release Date: August 11
A captive who dreams of her freedom
In public, violinist Elizabeth Duncan is the toast of the entertainment world. A prodigy who’s been wowing audiences with her music since she was only twelve years old. But behind closed doors, she’s desperate to escape the man who’s turned her passion into a prison. When the specter of violence becomes more than a threat, she sacrifices everything to run.
A hero lost without a mission.
Former special forces operative Ewan McBride has done everything he’s supposed to since leaving the military: Moved home. Bought a new business. Integrated into the community. But he’s just going through the motions. Until he rescues a woman in trouble in the midst of a terrible storm.
A sanctuary and an unexpected new beginning.
Ewan recognizes a woman on the run and can’t resist the urge to help. The danger from her past is certain to come calling. The safest place for her? With him. But as they live and work together, what starts as a self-appointed protective detail becomes so much more. With her, he finds his own safe place to land. But when their fragile fresh start is threatened, he’ll do anything to protect her.
Grab Your Copy!
Amazon https://amzn.to/3YqubDl
Apple https://apple.co/3OD23cW
Google Play https://bit.ly/43Udq4L
More in the Kilted Hearts Series
https://kaitnolan.com/all-books/
BLP REVIEW – Tracy
I thoroughly enjoyed this latest book in the Kilted Hearts series!
We’d met Ewan previously in earlier books and while reading Protector in a Kilt it felt as if he was just going through the motions, existing but not really living ….. until he met Isobel.
Isobel, she was genuinely lovely. Having lost her family and, to all extents, having been held captive allowed only to focus on her craft, it was truly great seeing her slip into a new life in the village. Being treated like on of the locals and blossoming in her newfound freedom.
This pair were exactly what they each needed but hadn’t realised they were missing. Saying that, is there something in the water in Glenlaig that makes all the blokes a bit dense at times?? Communication in a relationship, especially a new one, is vital, something these lads should be passing on to their mates as soon as they discover this nugget of information themselves!!!
The intrigue in the story made for good reading and while I understood why Isobel didn’t try to find out what was happening around her, I did think that natural human instinct to know what to expect would have been stronger – but having the chance to be ‘normal’ was possibly a bigger draw for her and I get that!!!
As ever with this series we catch up with family (both blood and found) who do their bit, helping out and protecting their own where they can. I think one of my favourite things about Kait’s books is that sense of family, community and belonging that she writes so well.
That epilogue. I can’t wait to see how things go for Ewan & Isobel going forward. There were a few wee comments made during the read and some new faces introduced and I’m hoping (with everything crossed) that we’re gonna either get a few more books in the series or a wee spin off to find out more about Ewan’s buddies.
This instalment ended on an interesting note that sets us up for Single Dad in a Kilt….. I cannot wait for Afton & Hamish’s story….. I’ve got so many questions that I need answered!!!!
Meet Kait Nolan:
Kait Nolan is a USA Today best selling, RITA® Award-winning Mississippi author who calls everyone sugar, honey, or darlin’, and can wield a ‘Bless your heart’ like a Snuggie or a saber, depending on requirements. She believes in love, laughter, and that tacos are the world’s most perfect food. When she’s not writing, reading, or wrangling family (both the two-legged and the four-), you can find her obsessively watching The Great British Bake Off.
Keep up with Kait Nolan and subscribe to her newsletter: https://kaitnolan.com/newsletter/
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COVER REVEAL – Checking the Center (The Zamboni Diaries, Book #0.5) by Delancey Stewart
Checking the Center
The Zamboni Diaries, Book #0.5
by Delancey Stewart
Release date 31 August 2023
𝗖𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗲𝗿 ➜ Kelly Lambert Greer
𝗖𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗠𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗹 ➜ Tim Reed
𝗖𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗿 ➜ Jane Ashley Converse
𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞
𝘼 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙-𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙-𝙢𝙖𝙣-𝙤𝙣-𝙢𝙮-𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙮 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙘𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙩-𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜!
You have to be pretty desperate to consult someone referred to as the Drunken Psychic for insight into your perennially single status.
But that’s me...
• Working in a bakery despite dreaming of culinary school.
• Hanging out with my happily married friends and trying not to be gut-twistingly jealous.
• And renting a blissfully sweet one-bedroom apartment on the banks of a river that has been a much-needed refuge.
Until now.
Because tonight, after trying to make heads or tails of the psychic’s mysterious pronouncementsq
A very naked, very muscley, very handsome man.
𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝?
And things only get more confusing from there. We have a whole conversation, in which he reveals that he’s the star center for the Wilcox Wombats hockey team, Rock Stevens. And that Rock is actually his real name. And that he’s in town for a week for an all-star pickleball tournament. And that my apartment is actually his apartment.
And then he refuses to leave. Things only get more confusing from there.
As we try to navigate our sudden forced-roommates situation while the landlord gets to the bottom of the mixup, Rock decides to turn the tables. Instead of being annoyed that I’m in his apartment, he suddenly becomes charming. Sweet, even. And even though I know it’s a mistake, he charms me right up onto the kitchen counter, and… well, you can imagine the rest.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲’𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤. 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠? 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝.
PreOrder today:
➜ https://geni.us/ctcenter
🏒 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥
The Wedding Winger, Book 1 – releasing 21 September 2023
➜ https://mybook.to/Wedding_Winger_ZD
Author Bio
I’m USA Today Bestselling author Delancey Stewart. My contemporary romances run the gamut of settings and setups, but they always deliver humor, heart and heat. It’s a guarantee.
I write from my home in Denver, CO, where I manage a household full of boys and men. Okay, only one man. The hubs. But two boys. I mean, three if you count the hubs. (You see why I do words and not numbers. I was told there’d be no math in this bio. Someone lied.)
I grew up in California and have had more jobs than anyone on earth (personal trainer, pharmaceutical rep, copywriter, tech writer, marketing director, wine seller, elementary school teacher… I’m not kidding. The list. It goes on.) But the one I love the most is writing, in part because I get to meet people who love books and stories as much as I do! Please don’t hesitate to get in touch to say hello, and don’t forget to join my newsletter!
Get a free story from me by joining my weekly email here: https://www.subscribepage.com/delanceystewart
Social Media Links:
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EXCERPT REVEAL – Ablaze (Elements of Rapture Series #3) by Swati MH
Title: Ablaze
Series: Elements of Rapture Series #3
Author: Swati MH
Release Date: August 31, 2023
Genre/Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend, Friends to Lovers, One Bed/One Night, Firefighter, Age Gap
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/194025630-ablaze
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/ablaze-elements-of-rapture-book-3-by-swati-mh
Cover Design: Cover Me Darling
NOTE: The discreet cover will only be available on paperback, the hot man cover will be for both ebook and special edition paperback.
Blurb:
Nine years . . . That’s how long I’ve secretly loved my brother’s best friend. A man who fights fires for a living but sets me ablaze with nothing but a cocky grin.
Dean Meyer has made it clear that we’re just friends–best friends. So when we get stranded in an epic snowstorm, sharing one bed in a roadside motel, what could go wrong?
Everything.
We may have blurred the lines over the past nine years, but we’d never crossed them. Not the way we did that night.
He promised nothing would change. That he’d forget every kiss and every touch, every whimper and every moan. He promised we’d walk out the door and go back to the way things were.
He promised . . . but he lied.
And now, a year of missed calls and unanswered texts later, we find ourselves forced back together again.
Will the fire still burn between us, or did that one night’s blaze leave us with nothing but ashes?
PreOrder Links:
Universal: https://mybook.to/Ablaze_SwatiMH
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXVQYKLH
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0BXVQYKLH
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BXVQYKLH
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0BXVQYKLH
Excerpt :
Prologue: Dean – Present Day
Embers dart up into the breeze as the fire crackles like an old staticky radio. The scent of burning logs entangles with the familiar perfume of towering pines and moss tickles my senses. It’s a scent that should relax me. A scent I’ve known for so long, I’d sometimes pretend I could smell it, only to be able to drift off to sleep.
Today, though, it seems foreign, completely wrong and unwelcomed. A scent that’s captured me in a chokehold so I can neither inhale it nor heave it out.
It’s just stuck.
Taking another sip of my beer and placing the bottle in the sand, I strum her favorite melody on my guitar, Storms by Fleetwood Mac. The melody she taught me to play at ten when she gifted me my first guitar.
It’s still hard to believe she’s gone, the earth settling her in, wrapping her in its embrace for eternity. It’s hard to believe I won’t be exchanging new recipes and old songs, new expressions and old memories with her ever again. The woman I gave my heart to only minutes out of the womb almost forty years ago–the one who raised me right along with my mother. The grandmother who was so much more than her title.
My brother, Darian, throws a small stick into the fire before leaning back on his Adirondack chair and entangling his hand with his wife, Rani’s. He might only be mine and Garrett’s half-brother, but I’d caution anyone who said we didn’t have the same blood running through our veins. He may not have been Grams’ grandson, but she treated him just the same. “I still remember when I spent part of a summer here when I was eight or nine. Every single night, your grandparents would watch WWE religiously.”
Garrett chuckles but my chest tightens with memories of Grams and Grandpa exchanging their picks for who’d win the match. No one loved wrestling more than Grams, and no one could convince her it wasn’t real.
I still remember how she’d have dinner prepared extra early on nights when her favorite wrestlers were going to be on. Garrett and I spent so many of our childhood summers at this lake house, sitting knees-crossed on the couch, snuggled on either side of her. We’d cheer and boo right along with Grams, even though we knew the whole match was rigged.
“She was a kooky little thing.” I try to chuckle, but it comes out all wrong with a choked inhale. I’m just about to take another swig of my beer to soothe the sand inside my throat when her soft hand grasps mine.
Her. The fucking enigma I’ve spent nine years of my life trying to crack.
The woman who packed up her things and got ready to leave without so much as a discussion with me–the man she claims to be her best friend. The woman who set my heart ablaze the same day she quelled the pyre. The woman who changed me day-by-fucking-day, just to unravel me in one fucking night.
A night she told me to forget, to chalk it up as a blip in our history, a moment–or rather, six fucking hours–of lowered inhibitions and bad decisions. A night that’s replaced the scent of burning logs and pine that used to help me drift off to sleep. Because if I can’t have the source, then the memories will have to suffice.
I pull my hand from her grasp, blinking back tears.
Loss. The fucking loss of it all.
My two best friends. A woman I just buried, and a woman whose touch I can’t bury, no matter how hard I try.
We’ve shared a room together for the past four days we’ve been at Grams’s lake house, and even though I knew we should talk–something that used to be as natural as blinking or breathing–I shut her down each time.
Because she tried. She tried to talk to me, to tell me whatever her fucked-up reasoning was for not being back home–with me–but I couldn’t listen to the same bullshit again. So, aside from the times she held me in her arms, letting me mourn my grandmother while soothing me with her soft whispers well into the morning, we haven’t spoken a single word.
Because, really, there’s nothing to say, is there?
How could there be when she said it all so clearly that day?
Rani yawns before telling us she’ll see us in the morning when we’re all ready to head back home, and Darian follows after her like the lovesick puppy he is. Meanwhile, Garrett and Bella whisper God knows what to each other across from me on the other side of the fire. My twin brother might have married the woman sitting in his lap on a drunken whim, but the only thing I’ve seen him drunk on over the past four years is her.
Mala shifts in her chair before standing, her bare legs covered with goosebumps. No matter what the weather is, the woman has always had a vendetta against pants. She pulls the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt over her hands and wraps her arms around her chest. “I think I’m going to take a little stroll around the beach.”
I watch her leave as the breeze picks up her shiny black hair–hair that looks and feels like spun silk. Her sneakered feet make small indentations in the sand as her hips sway with a lilt of their own.
Garrett and I exchange a glance, a silent message spoken and heard only by us. One that urges me to stop being the idiot he thinks I’m being.
But he has no clue. No one does.
It’s not that I can’t tell him–hell, he and Darian would be the first ones I’d tell if I committed murder and hid the body–but some fears can’t be voiced. Some fears are for you to grapple with all on your own.
I pluck the guitar strings a few more times before the weight of the breeze threatens to snuff the oxygen inside my lungs. Placing my guitar on the sand, I lean it against my chair and give my brother a nod before running after her.
The stars twinkle like a dusting of diamonds in the moonlit sky, the ripples in the lake overpowering the crackles of the fire behind me.
It doesn’t take long to find her, sitting on the beach with her bare knees drawn close to her chest, wrapped inside her covered arms like a blanket. I know she’s cold, but for as long as I’ve known her, she’s preferred it that way, claiming heat has always felt too suffocating to her.
I suppose I can’t blame her, especially not when you’ve lived through the horror she’s experienced.
As if she can feel me, she turns to watch me walk toward her before a wisp of hair gets caught between her lips and she pulls it off to tuck it behind her ear, darting her gaze away from mine.
“You promised you wouldn’t run away,” I start. “You promised to–”
“No, Dean.” She shuffles to her feet quicker than I would have thought possible given how cold she looked. “You fucking promised. You promised nothing would change. You promised that night wouldn’t affect us. Remember that? But it did, didn’t it? It changed everything! And all the years prior to that, when you told me you couldn’t, wouldn’t mess up what we have . . . or should I say, what we had?” She points between us. “What happened to that promise, huh?” She looks over at the lake with rage in her eyes. “I waited for you. Eight fucking years I stood on the sidelines, waiting for you . . .”
“Yeah?” I yell. “As if I fucking didn’t? You think you’re the only one who had front-row seats to watch a show you never wanted to see?”
She takes a step closer, her nostrils flaring. “So why didn’t you say anything when you had the chance? Why wait until I was finally moving on?”
“Moving on? Is that what you call it, sprinkles?” I chuckle mirthlessly. “Because the way I see it, you weren’t moving on; you were running.”
Her eyes sharpen on me. “Yeah, okay, I was running. But have you taken even one moment to consider why? Or is that too hard for you to do, given your brick of a brain?” She seethes. “I was running because I was fucking tired. Tired of waiting, tired of wanting and wishing–”
I heave in a shaky breath, letting the cold air compress my lungs as I hang on her words for dear life. Words she’s cut off, like if she says them, they’ll float away with the wind. “Wishing for what?”
She shakes her head, wiping her cheek with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but the moment she does, another tear falls to replace it. “It doesn’t matter.” She chuckles hoarsely. “Why would it matter? I’m not the one who can make it matter. I never have been.”
I close the distance between us, rounding my palms over her biceps and making her look up at me. “Wishing for what, Mala? Say it.”
She sniffles, her tear-stained cheeks shining under the silvery effulgence of the night. Her frown intensifies as she whispers, “For it to be me.”
Author Bio:
Swati MH is a Texas raised contemporary romance author living in the Bay Area with her very own book husband and two beautiful daughters. When she’s not writing stories full of humor, heart, and heartbreak, she’s likely thinking about doing so . . . preferably while holding a glass of wine.
Social Media Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B08KHZ1YR4
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Readers Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/971970126616695
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/swatimh
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Tiktok: @authorswatimh
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RELEASE BLITZ – Son of a Peach by Claire Hastings
Son of a Peach by Claire Hastings
Peaches, Beaches, and a whole lot of misunderstanding…this hero has his work cut out for him!
The local chocolatier is his exact opposite and someone he should stay away from, but he can’t. There’s no harm in a little fling, right?
Readers who enjoy instalove and fun in the sun romance will love Son of a Peach by Claire Hastings, a steamy, small town, oppositesattract, grumpy/sunshine romance.
Buy Now or Read FREE with KindleUnlimited!
Amazon → https://geni.us/SonofaPeach
Blurb:
Peaches are my life.
I’m talking about the sweet, fuzzy fruit that represents my home state of Georgia—not the emoji that most people use for a different peach. If you know what I mean…
When there’s the chance to show off my peaches at a Christmas-themed island for the Peach on the Beach festival, it’s a no-brainer.
Then I arrive in Candy Cane Key.
Turns out, they aren’t celebrating my favorite fruit. Nope. This event is about that other type of peach.
To make matters worse, I can’t stop thinking about the event organizer, the local chocolatier—Tizzy. And that’s exactly what she’s worked my insides into.
The strawberry blonde wild child is my exact opposite in every way. Someone I know I should stay away from. Yet, I can’t.
There’s no harm in a little fling, right?
Son of a Peach is an opposites attract, insta-love, fun in the sun novella about an uptight horticulturist and a happy-go-lucky chocolatier with a guaranteed HEA.
Add to Goodreads – https://bit.ly/3JNEOKt
Excerpt
Copyright 2023 Claire Hastings
“See, not so hard.”
Maybe this isn’t, but my dick…
“It’s not dirt,” I say, repeating the motions, “but I can see how this would be fun.”
“Dirt is not more fun than chocolate.”
I stop dead, chocolate fork held in midair, Oreo precariously perched on it. She cannot be serious. Then again, of course this free spirit of a woman would think that.
“Dirt is basis for all life. From dirt you came and to dirt you shall return,” I paraphrase. I can practically hear the preacher back home from Hickory Hills Baptist rolling his eyes for getting that piece of scripture wrong. The meaning is still there though.
“Maybe, but…chocolate gives life meaning,” she counters.
“Does it though?”
Dipping her finger into the bowl, she scoops out some of the melted goodness before running her finger along her lips, then sucks all the chocolate off. My dick surges and I swallow hard, wishing that were me she was licking.
Fuck, I need to get it together…
“It does. Besides, doing this with dirt is less fun.”
I don’t have time to ask, “doing what.” Tizzy’s too quick with the spatula, flicking it at me, sending chocolate flying. It’s warm as it hits my skin, catching me off guard. I scoff, unable to believe she just did that. Well, two can play this game.
Grabbing the fork, I mimic her movements, splattering chocolate across her face. Tizzy gasps, her smile wide. She clearly was not expecting me to retaliate. I laugh, enjoying her reaction and the playful fight that ensues. Back and forth we go, each one flinging bits of chocolate at each other. I can’t remember the last time I did anything like this. Certainly not with food. Mud, maybe. Mud fights were plentiful as children. Anton and I never passed up a chance to enjoy a good puddle. But it’s been years since we did that. Since I really let loose and played. And then I met Tizzy.
It’s time to up the ante though, the little splatter from the kitchen instruments no longer having the same effect. So I do what any man would do. I go big.
I dip my whole hand into the chocolate bowl, scooping up as much as I can. I hear Tizzy’s breath hitch, like she knows what’s coming. She doesn’t move though, the impish look on her face turning even more devilish the closer I get to her. I’ve wanted to lick this chocolate off her since the moment she spread it on her lips. Time to create my chance.
Only, physics has a different idea.
Stepping forward to close the distance between us, I slip. My legs wobble underneath me and I lunge forward, trying to keep my balance, and fall into Tizzy. The momentum sends us backward into the counter, which thankfully stops us from hitting the ground.
A second later, both of us trying to catch our breath, I pull back slightly, noticing the placement of my chocolate-covered hand.
Smack-dab on Tizzy’s boob.
About Claire Hastings
Claire Hastings is a walking, talking awkward moment. She loves Diet Coke, gummi bears, the beach, and books (obvs). When not reading she can usually be found hanging with friends at a soccer match or grabbing food (although she probably still has a book in her purse). She and her husband live in Atlanta.
Author Links:
Website → https://www.clairehastingsauthor.com
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