Category Archives: Excerpt

BLOG TOUR ~ Sweet Eternity by Jessie Lane


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Sweet Eternity by Jessie Lane
Sweet Series Book 3; Ex-Ops Book 5
Published: Dec 19th 2016

 


Blurb:

Roses are red, my life is blue, and the man I love is a fool.

 

Virginia Wellington has accepted her fate of being a pawn in her father’s criminal underworld games, especially if it keeps the people she loves safe. The problem is Lucas has discovered her secrets and the reason she walked away from him. Now he’s determined to save her, even if she doesn’t want to be saved.

 

I’m not Prince Charming. I’m the guy who kicked Prince Charming’s ass.

 

Lucas Young now knows why the woman he’s loved since he was a boy disappeared from his life. It’s time he rescued his angel and showed her once and for all that by his side is exactly where she belongs.

 

Warning: This is the third (and last) book in a three-part serial spin-off from the Ex Ops Series. Each of the three books will feature a piece of Lucas & Ginny’s story and leads directly into the next installment.

IN OTHER WORDS, NO MORE CLIFFHANGER! YIPPEE! Also, be forewarned this story will make you laugh, cry, and possibly throw your e-reader at the wall… more than once! <- You’ve been warned. 😉

 





Purchase Links:

Amazon: US : AU : CA: UK

iBooks
US : UK  


Excerpt:
Shaking my head, I tell him the god’s honest truth. “I wasn’t lying to you when I told you I’m over those fairy tales. I just want to concentrate on being here, in the moment, in real life from now on.”
“How come Gin?”
I can’t help but snort. Needless to say, it’s rather indelicate and garners the attention of the two men in front of us. That doesn’t stop me from telling Lucas exactly why I’ve given up on believing my mother’s fairy tales. “Because my mom thought she found prince charming once upon a time, and instead she ended up with an idiot wrapped in tin foil. If that’s what believing in her fairy tales is going to get me, I’d rather live in the real world.”
Both Lucas’s Commander and the other man known as Baker start laughing, but my eyes are glued to the man next to me who isn’t laughing at all. When the front quiets back down, Lucas murmurs, “If I’m not your prince charming anymore, then who am I Gin?”
My heart starts pounding in my chest as the truth practically slaps me in the face. With our past always between us, and Lucas’s insecurities that I haven’t really forgiven him for causing me so much pain over the years, I only hope Lucas understands what I’m trying to say when I say it. “It’s hard to resist a bad boy who’s a good man.”

His eyes search my face for a minute, and just when I think I’ve screwed it all up between us again, he leans forward, puts his forehead against my own and whispers back. “It’s a damn good thing I fell in love with a good girl who knows when to be bad then.”

 




~~ Get all three books in one box set ~~

Sweet Series Box Set

Published: Dec 19th, 2016

 

Purchase Links:

Amazon
US : AU : CA : UK

iBooks
US : UK



Ex Ops Series:
 

Secret Maneuvers #1 – Available Now
Stripping Her Defenses #2 – Available Now
Mission Delivery #2.5 – Available Now

Sweet Series (Lucas Young):

Sweet Agony #1/Ex Ops #3 – Available Now
Sweet Recovery #2/Ex Ops #4 – Available Now

Sweet Eternity #3/Ex Ops #5 – Available Now

 


About the Author:Jessie Lane

 

Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.

She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.

She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA).

 

Connect with Jessie:

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PRE-RELEASE SPOTLIGHT ~ Brake Failure by Alison Brodie

BRAKE FAILURE is a contemporary romance, with humour, suspense and a kick-ass heroine.
The story is set in one of the most fascinating episodes in America’s history: the months leading up to Y2K “melt-down”.

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Pre-Order Buy Links:

Amazon US

Amazon CA

 Amazon UK

 

From 9th (Release Day) until 13th January BRAKE FAILURE
will be available at the sale price of 99 pennies!! 


Blurb:

“Is it too late to tell him you love him when you’re looking down the barrel of his gun?”

Ruby Mortimer-Smyth is upper-class English, rigidly brought up to marry a man from the pages of Burke’s Peerage. She knows the etiquette for every occasion and her soufflés NEVER collapse.

She is in control of her life, tightly in control. Until …she ends up in Kansas.

Ruby believes that life is like a car; common-sense keeps it on the road, passion sends it into a ditch. What she doesn’t know is, she’s on a collision course with Sheriff Hank Gephart.

Sheriff Hank Gephart can judge a person. Miss Mortimer-Smyth might act like the Duchess of England, but just under the surface there’s something bubbling, ready to erupt. She’s reckless, and she’s heading for brake failure. And he’s not thinking about her car.

With the Millennium approaching, Ruby gets caught up in the Y2K hysteria. She joins a Survivalists group, who give her a gun and advise her to stockpile basic essentials. Accordingly, she bulk-buys Perrier, Gentleman’s Relish and macaroons.

Ruby, far from home, is making Unsuitable Friends and “finding herself” for the first time. She falls in with a gang of Hells Angels and falls foul of the law. At every turn, she comes up hard against Sheriff Hank Gephart, whose blue eyes seem to look deep into her soul. She desperately wants him, but knows she can never have him.

She’s angry at the emotions he arouses in her. Pushed to her limit, she bursts from her emotional straightjacket.

As the clock strikes midnight of the new Millennium, she’s on a freight train with three million dollars, a bottle of Wild Turkey and a smoking gun.

What happened to Miss Prim-and-Proper? And why did she shoot Mr Right?

Note: Alison Brodie wrote this story from first-hand experience. She lived in Kansas during this time and was stunned by the hysteria, unnerved that the US government was spending $150 billion preparing for Armageddon. As Lionel Shriver says in her novel, We Have To Talk About Kevin: “1999, a year widely mooted beforehand as the end of the world.”


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Excerpt:

 ‘I refuse to be ordinary!’ Ruby yelled.  Remembering the lipstick she’d found in the glove compartment, she grabbed it and spread it over her lips, the car swerving as she tried to see her reflection in the rear-view mirror.  Then she liberally sprayed herself with the perfume. 

Loud and defiant, she sang along to the music:  ‘You gotta whip it up and hit me like a ton of lead.  If I blow my top will you let me go to your head-’

A police motorbike slid past, lights flashing as the driver flagged her down.

‘Oh, no!’ she wailed.  Her thoughts zigzagging desperately: what had she done wrong?

The policeman herded her onto the gravel verge then parked his motorbike at a distance and removed his helmet.  Her stomach lurched.  She’d seen enough movies of the Deep South to recognise this man as the archetypical law enforcer who stood over chain gangs.  He was huge with a broken-nose and square jaw, his eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses.  He wore a stone-coloured short-sleeved shirt and brown trousers tucked into long boots. 

He spoke into the radio at his shoulder, his sunglasses focussed on her licence plate.  He was behaving as if she were armed and dangerous.  Who was he talking to?  Why was he taking so long?  Was he trying to scare her?  Well, it was certainly working: she was trembling from head to foot.

With a nod, he clicked the radio, and ambled over.

Ruby, realising the striptease music would give a bad impression, frantically sought to turn it off, trying buttons and switches, so when the policeman drew level, the windscreen wipers were thrashing, the hazard lights were flashing, and ZZ Top was still blaring.

He reached in a hand, slipped it under the steering wheel and there was instant silence.  Abruptly, he swung away and sneezed.

‘Mighty strong perfume you’ve got there, ma’am.’  He rested his hands on her window sill, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt.  His head was shaven to a prickly stubble; a thin silver scar traced a path across his scalp.  ‘Where you headin’?’

She was repulsed by those broad hairy hands that had taken possession of her car, angry that he had deliberately terrified her.  She was tugged between fury and good manners.  Good manners won.  ‘Actually, I’m just out for a drive, officer.’

‘Yer English!

Grinning, he removed his sunglasses, revealing sparkling blue eyes.  The transformation was startling.  She felt a strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach but just as quickly it was gone.  Granddad had always warned her that policemen were thugs in uniform.  Now, looking at the various weapons of subjugation on this man – gun, knife, handcuffs and baton – she could well believe it.

‘You on vacation?’ the policeman enquired.  

She saw his metal star and his name tag:  H. Gephart.  The spade-shaped badges on both sleeves shouted: SHERIFF.  ‘Yes,’ she lied, knowing he would be less inclined to harass her if he believed she was just here for a holiday.

‘We don’t get many English folk in Kansas.’

‘I can imagine,’ she said flatly.

He paused as if sensing her hostility, then pointed down the road.  ‘I pulled you over to warn you the blacktop ends in two miles.  Don’t want to be hitting rocks at eighty.’  He studied her thoughtfully.  ‘Don’t know how you missed the sign.’  His gaze dropped to the seat beside her.  ‘You bin drinking?’

Baffled, she turned to see what he was staring at.  The tequila bottle.  ‘That has nothing to do with me.  I found it-’

‘Drinking and driving isn’t tolerated in this State, ma’am.’

‘I do not drink alcohol, officer.’  She saw his brow raised in disbelief and added crisply: ‘apart from a glass of Chablis.  But I would never, ever touch anything like this!’  As she snatched up the bottle, it slipped through her fingers and flew out the window.

He looked at the bottle on the gravel.  He looked at her.  ‘Littering’s a two hundred dollar fine.’  He picked up the bottle and handed it back to her.  There was pity in his eyes as he studied her lips.  ‘The first step to having a drink problem is owning up to it.’

She was finding it very hard to remain polite.  ‘Surely, officer, an empty bottle does not mean one has a drink problem?’

‘It does if you lose control of your vehicle.’  He jerked his chin.  ‘You were swerving back there.’

‘I was applying lipstick.’

‘At eighty miles an hour?’

She’d heard his patronising tone and her fury exploded; but like steam escaping from a pressure-cooker valve it came out in a tiny hiss.  ‘Fascist.’

He was no longer smiling, and his eyes – now a glacial blue – held on to hers like pincers.  ‘Did you say something, ma’am?’

She gripped the tequila bottle as if it were his neck.  He stared at her.  She stared at him.  And in that moment, something passed between them; it was as if each were saying:  I don’t trust you, either.

‘Can I take a look at your driver’s licence?’ he asked.

She handed it over, relieved that she hadn’t yet changed her maiden name to her married name.  There was no way he could trace her.

He studied it.  ‘Okay, Miss Thompson.  I’d advise you to turn your vehicle around, head back to where you’re staying and sober up.’  He walked to his motorbike, swung a leg over it and waited.

Knowing he was watching her, she attempted a smooth and competent U-turn and almost ended up in a ditch.  As she drove away she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head.

‘What a horrid creature,’ she muttered, thankful that she would never see the man again.


About the Author:author-photo

Alison Brodie is a Scot, with French Huguenot ancestors on her mother’s side of the family.  Alison was a photographic model, modelling for a wide range of products, including Ducatti motorbikes and 7Up.  She was also the vampire in the Schweppes commercial. 

A disastrous modelling assignment in the Scottish Highlands gave Alison an idea for a story, which was to become Face to Face.  She wrote Face to Face as a hobby and then decided to send it off to see what would happen.  It was snapped up by Dinah Wiener, the first agent Alison sent it to.  Three weeks later, Alison signed a two-book deal with Hodder & Stoughton.  Subsequently, Face to Face was published in Germany and Holland.  It was widely reviewed, ie:  “Vain, but wildly funny leading lady.” -Scottish Daily Mail.  It was also chosen as Good Housekeeping’s “Pick of the Paperbacks.” 

Unfortunately, Alison then suffered from Second-Book Syndrome.  The publisher’s deadline loomed and she was terrified because she didn’t have an idea for a story!  She found the whole experience a nightmare; and this is why she cautions first-time authors to write more than one book before approaching an agent.  She managed to finish the book – Sweet Talk – but it bombed.

While writing Sweet Talk, she moved to Kansas and lived there for two years.  She loved the people, their friendliness, their free-and-easy way of life, the history and the BBQs!  Sadly, her visa ran out and she had to come back to the UK – although her dream is to one day live permanently in America.  Now, Alison lives in Biarritz, France.

Alison has taken the exhilarating steps to becoming an indie author.  Her second ebook, THE DOUBLE, is out on Amazon Kindle with some great reviews.  “Excellent.” – San Francisco Book Review.

Alison writes contemporary romance.  She aims for a strong plot line, set against the background of a world-changing event, coupled with touches of humour, sexual tension and character transformation.

She loves to hear from her readers.

Author Links:

Website
Goodreads
Twitter
Facebook


 

EXCERPT REVEAL ~ The Vampire Mafia by M.A. Wilder

 

 

  Title: The Vampire Mafia Complete Series

By: M.A. Wilder

 

Publication Date: January 1, 2017

Genre: Paranormal Romance
 
 

 
Are you interested in receiving a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review on Goodreads/Amazon?

You can sign up – HERE
 
Five deadly love stories.
And one dark saga. 
 

This is August, New York, where the chaotic world of the supernatural will collide with unsuspecting, vulnerable humans.

Trouble
Notorious criminal Mickey McKennan is everything Nora Evers shouldn’t want. He’s power and sex in a suit with a rogue smile, and when they meet, her world tilts as she falls in lust—until that world halts when tragedy strikes. Nora’s life quickly goes from bad to worse, and she finds Mickey at every turn. Although his deadly secrets ensure that trouble follows him, she is drawn to him more and more. But, when her past haunts her present, Nora’s life is threatened, and she is unsure of who she can count on to help her survive.

Beautiful
Everyone has a price, and thanks to the captivating Simon Handover and his proposition, Penny Ames has discovered hers. She will just need to make it through one month with him before she can flee and never look back. But, with his Clark Kent good looks and Superman swagger, Simon is more of a threat to Penny than she realizes. While fighting not to lose her heart, she stumbles into a world filled with guns, gangs, and…vampires, and soon, she finds herself also fighting for her life.

Collateral
When Sosie Savage is taken hostage by the Vampire Mafia due to her father’s mistake, the only thing on her mind is survival—until her focus begins to shift as her captors, the D’Avignon brothers, vie for her attention. Powerful yet antagonistic, J.M. and Sebastien fascinate her. Where J.M. is destructive and dangerous, Sebastien acts as the savior with his kindness. With her feelings clouding her mind, Sosie struggles to set things right in the tangled web her father weaved. But, after the D’Avignon family receives threats from rival vampires while enduring run-ins with the authorities, she begins to question her allegiance to her own family and the life that she once knew.

Vengeful
Kidnapped and tortured with no end in sight, Beau D’Avignon is certain death is imminent. That is, until Francesca Slight intervenes. Sheltered daughter of the D’Avignon’s sworn enemy, she is now also the owner of Beau’s heart. With the animosity between the leading vampire families, their newfound love is not likely to survive, especially when the escalating war threatens all their lives.

Frustrated with her father’s lack of action in the search for her missing family, Bellamy D’Avignon is determined to take the reins, but along the way, she crosses paths with someone from the opposite side of the law. He’s literally tall, dark, and handsome, and their connection is immediate and undeniable. But, when a life-altering threat hits and emotions take over, Bellamy makes a decision that will change their lives forever.


 


 

“Are you ready to tell me?” I ask.

“No,” he whispers.

I look down and sigh. “I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry before you believe me. But if you want to punish me for his death…”

I bolt from the car and make my way up to my apartment without a single glance over my shoulder. The key is in the door when I feel him approach. I still refuse to turn around, but he doesn’t give me much choice. Mickey curves an arm around my waist and spins me so that my back is now pinned to the door. His face is mere inches away from mine, and I can feel the hard lines of his body pressing against me. He’s so gorgeous, it hurts to look. But it hurts even more to look away.

Once again, I’ve forgotten how to breathe. But he reminds me when he floats his cheek against mine, causing my breath to hitch.

“I’m not trying to punish you,” he says, whispering the words against my neck. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Whatever it is you think I can’t handle, I can,” I whisper back. “I’m stronger than I look.”

He sighs and looks at me like I’m stating the obvious. “Babe, sounds to me like you’ve had to be too strong for too long. When are you going to let someone else take care of you?”

My nose stings from the urge to cry, and I’m struggling to maintain eye contact. This isn’t me. I’m the girl who deals with shit and then keeps it moving, not the one who goes all weak-kneed and falls to pieces.

Except I am falling.

And fast.

“There is no one. Remember?” The quiver in my voice is a dead giveaway, but I keep talking, and he keeps listening. “Besides, we still don’t know who those guys were, and—”

So much for everything I’m not.

His lips capture mine, and my knees do go weak. I can feel his arm tightening as he holds me steady with one hand while his other hand cups the side of my face.

His lips brush back and forth against mine, learning their feel. Meanwhile, his hand grips my hip, and his other hand slides back from my cheek to my hair, anchoring into my long brunette locks. I can feel Mickey stiffening against me as the tip of his tongue demands entrance.

There’s no hesitation. I open for him.

A needy whimper works its way up my throat as his tongue glides against mine. My hands curl into tight fists, the lapels of his expensive suit jacket caught between my fingers. I feel myself getting wet, cream dampening my panties, as this primal ache spirals up from my core. Mickey’s groaning deliciously naughty sounds into my mouth, and I’m clutching at him like I never want this to end.

Because I don’t.

It feels like every kiss from my past has been leading up to this moment. They were all just practice, and this…this is real. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and deep down inside, I know that I never will.

Not with anyone but Mickey.

But it’s over before I know it. He’s pressing his lips against mine in a gentle finale, and I know that the fireworks display is coming to a close. His name spills out of my mouth in a pleading moan, and he smiles and then finishes with a chaste kiss.

“Babe, you’re gonna get us both into trouble.”

I breathe a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, wipe that sexy smile off your face before you start something you can’t finish.”

I chuckle, despite my best efforts for a more serious expression. Then, a sultry fire flashes in his eyes, and I stop laughing.

“Let’s go,” he says.

“Go where?”

“Inside.”

“Inside where?”

“Babe, we really gonna do this?”

“I never invited you in.”

“Relax. If I wanted something to happen, those gorgeous legs of yours would be wrapped around my waist, and you’d be screaming my name right now. My cock would be buried so deep inside you, hitting places you never even knew existed, and I swear, you’d never want to hop off. But you’re not ready for that, and I respect it. You’re also not ready to spend the night at my place, so I’m going to crash here.”

My skin is flushed, my breathing is strained, and for the first time in my life, I mentally check my body for signs of a heart attack.

Nothing.

A slow and shaky breath escapes my lips as my brain tries to work out a response. I know I’m going to think of a really great comeback hours from now, but the best I can manage on the spot is, “Well, you just know everything, don’t you?”

He smirks. “Not everything. Just that you want me.”

I gasp, not out of offense but out of embarrassment over his accuracy.

“And, before you say anything else, I want you, too. But, tonight, we sleep. Just sleep,” he says.

I unlock the door while offering up a deceptively cool tsk. “Like I said, nice.”


 

M. A. Wilder is a wife, mother, and native New Yorker who writes in order to retain her title as a hipster. She is a stay-at-home mom by day and a crime fighter author by night. She is also rumored to be a full-time geek, a part-time fangirl, and an imaginary superhero.

BLOG TOUR ~ Hate Story by Nicole Williams

 

 

 

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Nina can’t let herself fall in love with the man she’s going to marry. Both of them have experienced the sting and sham of love and have no intentions of falling victim to it twice. Love is expensive—hate is free.

Three years. A million dollars. A solution to both of their problems. They planned it all, from the story of their first meeting to the date of their divorce. Nothing could go wrong.

But what they didn’t consider was chemistry, and Nina and Max have no shortage of it. After too many near-kisses, Nina convinces herself that hating Max is better than loving him, and the more she gets to know this soon-to-be-husband of hers, the more she discovers just how very much she truly, madly, and deeply . . . hates him.

This isn’t a love story. This is the other kind.

 


He hadn’t stopped smiling at me, and it wasn’t the friendly kind of smile. It was the kind that made it seem like he was in on some secret I wasn’t privy to. The kind of smile that made me feel like I was being trifled with and made the punch line of a hundred jokes I had yet to hear.
I wanted to wipe the cocky smile off his face, but that would have required touching him and even I wasn’t gutsy enough for that. A woman did not touch a guy like him unless she wanted him to be her undoing. Nope. You didn’t play with fire. You didn’t touch it. You didn’t even come close.
Fire. That was all I saw when I looked at him. I was playing with it by agreeing to this kind of arrangement with him.
Even the way he lounged in the chair was smug. Like it was his throne and he was just waiting for minions to come bow before him.
“You’re younger than I thought you’d be.” He broke the silence first.
Though it was faint, I could just make out an accent. It was European, but I couldn’t nail down the country. To look at the bastard, you’d think he was Scandinavian—blond hair, blue eyes, commanding frame—but his accent was too sharp to hail from the land of Vikings.
I was tempted to glare at the tipped smile aimed at me, but I didn’t want to lead him to the impression I cared. I gave him my version of the same smile, abandoning my “no expectations” policy for the prospect of pissing him off. “You’re older than I thought you’d be.”
His smile shifted into the realm of a smirk, like he knew I was lying. So yeah, maybe I was lying about thinking he was older, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of confirming his silent accusation. He was older than me, but not by much. He might have been closing in on thirty, but he wasn’t past it.
He leaned forward in the chair. When his gaze circled my face to my fiery red hair, his brow elevated. Yes, I am the stereotype. Be warned.
“Prettier too.”
I stiffened. He was fucking with me now. I’d already agreed to marry him. How much more did he think he could screw me over?
I gave him a cursory glance and kept the unaffected look on my face. “Uglier.”
He cocked a brow like he knew better. “And the personality of ten women rolled into one.”
“Intimidated?”
His head shook once. “Intrigued.”
“Irritated?”
His eyes investigated me again. It felt intrusive, definitely not cursory. “Impressed.”
“As impressed by me as the woman in heat who was just mauling you over by the bar?”
“You mean the woman who gave me this?” He pulled something out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and set it on the small table between us.
It was a hotel card key. With a lipstick kiss pressed into it.
“Classy place, this five-star hotel.” I glanced back at the woman at the bar. She was still there, watching him as though he was the height of the male species. “Did you tell her the reason you were here?”
His attention stayed on me. “Yes, I told her I was here to meet the woman I was going to marry.”
My stomach wrung. This was the man I was going to marry.
Holy shit.
“And she didn’t ask for her room key back?” I asked.
“She didn’t give it to me until right after I mentioned that.” His stare was intense. Too intense. I felt like every secret—every piece of who I was—was strewn out on that table for him to see. “Women love a man who isn’t afraid of commitment. It’s like an aphrodisiac.”
“You know what else women like?” I didn’t pause for an answer because I guessed he didn’t have a clue. “A man who’s humble.”
He fought a smile and leaned back in his chair when a server approached with a couple of drinks on a tray. “No, they like to think they do, but they don’t.” His head shook authoritatively. “They like the cocky bastard who goes after what he wants and doesn’t take no for an answer.”
Because the server was shielding some of me from his view, I allowed myself to shift. I was getting fired up, and if he kept saying the same kinds of things with the same kinds of looks on his face, that drink was going to wind up in his face.
That was when I noticed what the server had set in front of me. A tumbler with something amber in color. The same thing she was setting in front of him. Although from the curve of her smile, she was offering to give him a blow job on the side, compliments of the house.
“What is this?” I asked. Him. Her. Whoever wanted to answer.
“Scotch,” he answered, ignoring the server lingering between us.
My nose curled at the drink.
“Expensive scotch.”
“I don’t care if it came from the fountain of youth. I won’t drink it.”
His forehead creased with what appeared to be irritation, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was confusion, like he couldn’t decide what to make of me. “You would have me believe you wouldn’t take a sip of that if you knew it would give you eternal life?” When I shook my head, his head tipped. “Why?”
“Because I value my free will far more than long life.” I pushed the drink away until it clinked against his. “I’d rather live one day free than an eternity in a cage.”
He was quiet for a moment. The server stayed between us, staring at him, waiting.
“Then why are you here?” he asked me finally.
I leaned forward and hoped my stare was as powerful as his. “Because free will is expensive.”

 



 

 

 


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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
 

Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Xavier (The Recherché Series #3) by Brit Lauren

 

Now LIVE!

Xavier
The Recherché Series #3
by Brit Lauren

Blurb

I’m selling your fantasy. Are you buying?
Life has a way of throwing you a curveball when you least expect it. My curveball tore away everything I loved and left me with nothing. Now, I’m a male escort. I make good money, really good money and I’m living the life most guys would probably sell a limb for, but I’m not happy. I haven’t been since she left me six years ago. Six long years, and there she is…as a client.
Alexa Trent broke me once, and I’m not sure any amount of time heals the kind of wounds she inflicted. The question is, can I remain professional with the woman I both loathe and love? Lust and hate are so very close, and with her wealthy husband looking on, hatred shouldn’t be too hard to muster.



Excerpt

“Fuck her.”Will’s voice is a gruff command, and my gaze snaps to his. He hasn’t moved but I can practically see the tension building in him. 

Yanking Alexa to her feet, I spin her away from me, forcing her to face him. She gasps as I wrench her back against my chest by her hair, which is still wrapped around my wrist. 

“Take your underwear off,”I growl against her ear before nipping her earlobe. I want to demean her, to make her feel worthless and unvalued. Because I don’t value her, not now. Each breath she takes is nothing more than a ragged gasp hitching in her throat desperately. She slides her hands down her sides and I feel her shimmy her hips from side to side as she takes her underwear off. I bite back a groan as her now bare arse cheeks press against my cock. Releasing her hair, I grab her hips and shove her towards to bed roughly, making her stagger a few steps. I’m being an arsehole to her, but it’s the only way. I can’t do gentle or even respectful when it comes to her. This man wants to watch his wife get fucked, which means he gets off on the idea of her being a whore. 

I’ll treat her like a whore. I grab the condom from the pocket of my discarded trousers and slide it on before I climb on the bed and lay flat on my back with my head towards hubby. She stands beside the bed, her eyes shooting between me and him. I want her to ride me, because I don’t want to look at him. I’m not sure I want to look at her either but I can’t deny that Alexa has always been gorgeous. It’s easier to watch her and get lost in her body, easier to forget that it’s her. 

“I don’t have all day,”I say coldly. My cock is standing up, ready and waiting. I popped a Viagra before I came here, but honestly, I wouldn’t have needed it. Alexa has always made my dick turn to stone. Because aside from the fact that she’s a shallow bitch, her body is perfection and her face looks like a damn work of art. Yes, Alexa Daniels was the girl every single guy wanted to fuck. And I got her, or so I thought. 

She crawls onto the bed, tentatively gazing down at me. I grip her hips and wrench her forward. She half falls over me and swings a leg over my hips. Her palms slap against my chest and our eyes meet for a moment. Something passes between us and I don’t know whether it’s regret, resentment, lust, or a combination of all three. Honestly, this situation is so messed up, but who am I to call time on this shit? This is my job. She could have said something the second I walked in here and she didn’t. Maybe she’s just not keen on the idea of being fucked by a stranger. Maybe she’d rather get fucked by me, even if she knows I hate her. 

Her gaze never leaves mine as I slowly force her down on my waiting cock. Her lips part and her eyes close, her long lashes casting a shadow over her high cheekbones. 

She slides all the way down until I’m balls deep inside her, and I bite my bottom lip hard enough that I taste a hint of blood. She gasps and tosses her head back, sending waves of dark hair cascading down her back until it’s brushing my fingers at her hip. Her back bows and her tits strain against the lace of her bra, making me want to tear it off and suck on her perfect fucking nipples. She rolls her hips, bringing her eyes back to mine. And there it is, the connection, the spark, everything that made us, us. Time and distance seem to fall away in an instant and it feels as though nothing has changed and I’m right back to where I was six years ago, fucking obsessed with Alexa Daniels. And I hate it. I want her to feel as rejected and hurt as I did until the need becomes unbearable.


Xavier Buy Links

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Other Books in the series 

I’m selling your fantasy. Are you buying?

They say that love is the most powerful force in the universe. They’re wrong. Sex, lust, passion, these are the emotions which human beings crave. And they’ll spend any amount of money for a taste.

I’m the guy that makes your heartbeat rise with a look, your breath falter with a touch. It’s my job. My name is Thor Jameson and I’m a male escort. No, I’m THE male escort. My reputation is unrivalled and well deserved.

I’ve always been for sale, until the one thing I didn’t even realise I wanted was thrust in my face by chance. For once, I’m not selling, and she’s certainly not buying.

Amazon UK

Amazon US

I’m selling your fantasy. Are you buying?

My name is Kaden Ryan and I’m a male escort. I never intended to become an escort, but an opportunity fell into my lap and I took it. It was simple: get paid for sex, an orgasm, a night of pleasure. It’s certainly an easy way to work my way through medical school.

But not everyone’s fantasy is as simple as an orgasm. Some women like the game, and one in particular wants to push me to places I never thought I would go, paid or otherwise. She’s going to be the one to give me a real education

 
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About the Author


Brit Lauren is a pen name of LP Lovell. LP Lovell is an Indie Author from Salisbury, England. She’s known for her sick sense of humour, her outrageous comments and a general lack of brain to mouth filter. Fuelled by copious amounts of Diet Coke, she likes to create feisty female characters who bring their men to their knees. If she’s not writing then LP can be found riding her horses, or walking her ever present writing companion; Tulula the dog.
LP Lovell’s first novel; Besieged was published in February 2014, and was an international Amazon best seller. The sequel Conquered is due for release in September 2014.

LP loves to hear from readers

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COVER REVEAL ~ Fear the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC Series #2) by Lani Lynn Vale

 

Fear the Beard
The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC Series #2
Lani Lynn Vale

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: March 30, 2017
Model: Jacob Wilson
Photographer: FuriousFotog

 
 
 


Tally is a twenty-year-old single mother struggling to finish nursing school. Has she made mistakes in life? Sure, but her daughter isn’t one of them. She works hard, she studies even harder, and she’s only a few weeks away from graduating.

She’s living her life the best she knows how when she witnesses a near miss motorcycle accident between a car and a biker. A biker that happens to be the most talked about teacher at her college.

The moment she meets those startling blue, narrowly-escaped-death eyes, she realizes quickly that life as she knows it has changed. No longer will she be content to let life pass her by, even if it puts everything she’s worked so hard for in jeopardy.

***

Tommy is a highly skilled doctor. A teacher. A veteran. A fully-patched member of The Dixie Wardens MC. He’s lonely, but also set in his ways. What will it take for this man to accept that he needs to make some changes in his life? Apparently, it’ll take a guy in a truck, who’s preoccupied with his phone rather than focused on the road, nearly plowing into him on his bike at seventy miles per hour. Oh, and a twenty-something year old nursing student witnessing the entire thing from only a few feet away.

It only takes a second, a single heartbeat in time, as he looks into her worry-filled eyes to realize that he’d give anything for a single night with her. He may lose his job in the process, but after that one incredible night turns into an amazing weekend, he knows it’s worth the risk for the promise of her forever.


 

 


 

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, your first clinical in the ER might be somewhat overwhelming. That’s to be expected. However, over time you will learn the ropes, find your stride, and realize that it isn’t some big scary place that will swallow you alive.” Dr. Tommy—I refused to call him Dr. Bones anymore—continued.
 
I started doodling on my paper, drawing curls and swirls around mine and Tallulah’s names.

 

I’d just made a fourth star when a large tanned hand came and snatched the pen out of my hand.
“I can see now why your pen ran out of ink.” Dr. Tommy stared down at me with barely restrained impatience.
My face flushed.
If it were possible to sink into the floor in completely embarrassment, I would’ve done it. Right then and there.
Jesus Christ.

 

“I think you should see me after class.” He murmured.

 

My brows furrowed.
I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Looking over to Hadley, she returned a sympathetic smile before turning her head down to her own work.

 

“Okay.” I finally said. “I’ll see you after class.”

 

He nodded once, but kept his pen.
Irrational anger followed me throughout the rest of class, and by the time that it ended, I was beside myself.
“Do you want me to wait?” Hadley asked.
I shook my head.
“No.” I snapped. “I have to go to work after this anyway. I just hope he doesn’t make me late.”
Hadley packed her book into her bag, gave me a worried look, and then left without another word.
I stayed in my seat once my bag was packed, waiting to see what Dr. McAsshole had to say.
Once the last person escaped, he stopped erasing the board, (and yes, I was admiring his ass if you were wondering) he turned and crossed his thick, muscular arms over his chest.
“The other teachers give you glowing recommendations.” He started saying.

 

I licked my lips.

 

“Uh, thank you?”

 

I didn’t know what to say, nor where he was going with this.

 

“I wanted you to understand that I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior when I have you in my ER.”
I blinked.
Then blinked again.

 

“Uhhhh,” I started to say, but he interrupted me.

 

“You’ll be starting on your nurse internship next week. You’ll be there two days out of the week, twelve hour shifts, and always under me or Dr. Wild.”

 

I blinked some more.

 

“I…I got it?” I finally was able to get out.
He nodded his head.
“Though I expect that has more to do with who your mother is than whether you are actually qualified or skilled enough to be there.”

 

My mouth dropped open in affront.
“Oh, I assure you that I am skilled and qualified enough to be there.” My back straightened. “Is that all?”
I could’ve sworn I saw his lips twitch at my show of anger, but no other signs were apparent.

 

“Yes, that’ll be all.”
I nodded and stood, throwing my bag on my shoulder and practically stomping toward the door.
He stopped me, though, the moment I was about to exit fully.

 

“Thank you.”

 

I froze, and turned.
“For what?” I asked stiffly.

 

“For not running over me this morning. Thank you for paying attention.”
I didn’t bother to answer him.
Otherwise I might’ve said that I now wished that I hadn’t been paying attention.

 

Mother fucker.

 

Who did he think he was?
My mother wouldn’t stoop so low as to get her daughter a job…would she?
 

 


 
 
Beard Mode
The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC Series #1

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: February 23, 2017
Cover Model: David Byers
Photographer: Michael Stokes

 



 

 
Aaron don’t ever call me Fatbaby’ Sims is lucky to be alive. Or at least that is what everyone keeps telling him. He doesn’t feel lucky, though.

He’s scarred, has more than a little bit of a bad attitude, and there isn’t a single day that goes by that he doesn’t wish his wife would’ve just finished off the job.

After being denied his old position at the fire department, he leaves, and doesn’t look back. He heads straight to Alabama and into the semi-welcoming arms of The Dixie Wardens MC. There he becomes a part of a brotherhood that forces him to get back in the land of the living.
Imogen is a smart girl. A girl who doesn’t always make the best decisions.

Her heart is in the right place when she walks into that prison, but it doesn’t take long for her to realize that her heart shouldn’t have had any say so in the matter. Especially when one wrong move lands her in the arms of a scarred man that looks frightening enough to scare any sane woman away.

Immediately enthralled by the angry man, she tries to get closer to him. But the harder she tries to get to know him, the further he pushes her away.
The only thing Aaron wanted to do after his now ex-wife was sent to jail was escape. Escape the awful memories. The pity-filled eyes. The curious glances.

He does a damn fine job at ensuring he draws as little as attention as possible, but then that annoying woman with her startling blue eyes starts hammering away at his resolve. Makes him feel when he doesn’t want to feel.

Imogen comes into his life and carves out a place for herself, obliterating his defenses one heated kiss at a time.

It doesn’t take long, and he realizes he’s in deep. Too deep to ever want to come out.

Imogen will know what it’s like to be loved by a reject.

 


 

I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.


 


 
 

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Reigning Her In by Dani Wyatt

 

 
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THIS NOVELLA WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE HOT FOR TEACHER ANTHOLOGY AS RIDING THROUGH.

I’d come to accept the predictable routine of my life until I saw her ass in those riding pants. Constance Montgomery…damn, with her legs spread on the leather of the saddle has my mouth watering and things inside me shift. Seems my program is about to change. All the years of indifference to any female form all come tumbling down. My hard rule to never get involved with a student is about to be broken. With her.

Reed Sawyer is at the top of his game. An elite equestrian trainer with looks to kill and he’s staring straight at me. Only, he’s not my trainer because my parents make all those decisions. I’m tired of being under my parent’s thumb. Maybe it’s time I pushed the envelope a little. And Reed Sawyer looks like just the right wall to start pushing on.

A naïve, sheltered girl. A brooding, perfectionist with years of pent up need. The sparks fly. The walls come down. Hot lessons are learned.


Author’s Note: A hot instructor, a riding crop and that old phrase about a guy being hung like a…Well you get the idea. Jump on for a ride that will have you reaching for a cool Mint Julip and a fresh pair of panties. It’s scorching hot, sweet and filthy romance with instant everything.

 


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I’m supposed to be here to help her, but I can’t help what happens next.  She squeezed my fingers. A gentle tug was all it took.
My mouth nearly crushes hers as I take our first kiss.

Her lips taste innocent as they open, my tongue lighting up with the first flavor of her.  Something rumbles out of me like a pained groan, because it hurts.  This kind of intensity hurts in a spectacular way.

Her tongue answers me with its movement, her own sweet, tiny sounds that make my dick shatter the ceiling of the space available in my pants.  He’s curling in half as he grows, and I hope she doesn’t notice.

If I had my way, I’d hear that tiny moan every second of every day for the rest of my life.  It’s more than beautiful; it calls to me.

 

It’s lips and soft moans and the soft click of teeth meeting teeth before I break away, my hand grasping possessively around the side of her face.  My thumb rasping back and forth in an attempt to feel as much of her soft skin as it can.  My fingertips digging harder than they should into the back of her neck, bringing my forehead to rest on hers.

“I’m sorry.”  My face is flushed, I’m shaking.  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My head is throbbing, along with my balls.  They are tight against my body and something inside me is born.  Something that wants her in a way that frightens me.  An obsession explodes and I’m not sure I can tame it enough to keep from hurting her.  I want my cum dripping from her; I want to feel her flesh to flesh from the inside.  I need her vulnerable, available, spread for me to enjoy and make filthy with me.  Never before has a woman ignited this kind of lust, these kinds of thoughts, and frankly I’m scared shitless.

“I’m not sorry,” she murmurs as I desperately try to regain control of the animal she’s created in me.

 

The air in the room seems to disappear.  My lungs ache but inside my head, I think, who needs oxygen?  I have only one need and she is the only way to satiate that need.

The idea that this innocent beauty and I are sharing similar thoughts is enough to make me nearly cum in my pants.  Drops of liquid are already soaking through the fabric below my waist, and I think I would need another ten layers to hide her effect on me.

The sight of her cheeks rising pink, the way her nipples greet my gaze from under the faded hospital gown, make me want to tear the offending fabric into shreds and have her never be clothed around me again.  Who is this dominant beast?  I’m the ever reserved, commanding, cool leader.  Always in control.

Not now.  If I had my way, I’d slam the furniture against the door of this room and take her right here.  A single word thrums in my head.  It won’t stop as much as I try to push it away.

Mine.  Mine.  Mine.

 

I fight the urge to crawl on top of her and make her filthy in ways I never imagined before her. But with the taste of her lips, thoughts of my cum inside her are fighting with the civilized parts of me to maintain some control.

I imagine slicing my tongue between her dripping cunt lips for the first time.  It’s one of many things I’ve never done before.  My words growling into her body, saying every filthy word I can think of as I breathe her in and swallow her flavor.

I imagine the subtle differences in the texture of her skin on my tongue, the ripples and folds, the hard nub where I want to draw her between my lips and consume the very essence of her.  I want to make love to her with my mouth for hours.

 



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Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.
She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.
When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
 
Author Links
 

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Hate Story by Nicole Williams

 

 

 

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Nina can’t let herself fall in love with the man she’s going to marry. Both of them have experienced the sting and sham of love and have no intentions of falling victim to it twice. Love is expensive—hate is free.

Three years. A million dollars. A solution to both of their problems. They planned it all, from the story of their first meeting to the date of their divorce. Nothing could go wrong.

But what they didn’t consider was chemistry, and Nina and Max have no shortage of it. After too many near-kisses, Nina convinces herself that hating Max is better than loving him, and the more she gets to know this soon-to-be-husband of hers, the more she discovers just how very much she truly, madly, and deeply . . . hates him.

This isn’t a love story. This is the other kind.

 


 

“Okay. So how do you think this is going?” Max tipped the broom handle between us. “You and me?”
My forehead pinched together. “You and me the plan? Or you and me the surprise?”
Max’s brow answered my question.
“And this topic is what you consider not-so-deep?” I nudged him and moved to finish stocking syrups.
“All I’m looking for is a simple estimation. Since we were just talking about school, give us a grade for how you think this is going.”
“A grade? Like A, B, C, D, F?”
“Exactly like that.”
I shook my head. “Did you have a rough day at work today? Lose an Olympic-size swimming pool of money or something? Are you needing your daily ego stroking to come from somewhere else today?” When I glanced back at him, I found Max leaning into the door he’d relocked, arms crossed and waiting.
“Our relationship is unique,” he said. “Intricate. I’m asking not because I need my ego stroked, but because I care. If I need to make some changes, I’m willing to. Anything you need, whatever you want, that’s what I’ll give you. But first, I have to know how I’m doing.”
If a man could get a woman pregnant from a piercing stare and a collection of words, I’d just gotten myself good and knocked up. With twins.
“You know how it’s going,” I said, trying to focus on the syrups instead of what—or who—I wanted to focus on.
“I know how I think it’s going. I’d like to know how you think it’s going.”
My mouth went a little dry. Having these kinds of talks was hard for anyone—they were next to impossible for me. “Well, you haven’t gone and confessed your undying love or scared the hell out of me by asking me to be your baby mama, so you’re keeping your promise to take it nice and slow.” When he gave a mini bow, I rolled my eyes. “Not to mention you aren’t too shabby in the sack, you don’t leave dirty dishes in the sink, and you share the remote well.”
Max’s face went flat. “Not too shabby?”
“Oh, please. You know how good you are. Stop fishing for compliments.” A flush crept up my neck as I thought of the most recent evidence to support that theory.
A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. “I want a grade.”
“Like comprehensive? Or broken down by category?” I was stalling, and Max knew I was stalling.
“You’re making this way too difficult,” he grumbled.
“An A minus,” I said abruptly. “I’d give you an A minus.”
“Why not an A plus?”
I kept my head turned so he couldn’t see my smile. Only Max Sturm would be outraged by an A minus. “Because there’s always room for improvement. And I wouldn’t want it to go to your head, that’s why not an A plus.”
The door creaked when he shoved off of it. He made no move to tame the way he was checking me out, leaning into the counter as I organized the syrups. “Something’s definitely going to my head.”
My gaze roamed his zipper region. “I was talking about the one north of your neck.”
“And I’m talking about the one at the end of my dick. My, at present, hard dick, thanks to you.” He came up behind me, fitting himself against my backside as his hands moved around to work on my jeans.
“Max,” I protested, my eyes closing a second later when his dick nuzzled deeper into my backside.
“Nina. I’m taking your body. Here. Now.” His chest pressed into my back as he lowered my zipper. “Accept that so we can move on to the next part.”



 

 


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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
 
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

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BLOG TOUR ~ Brake Failure by Alison Brodie

 


Title: Brake Failure
By: Alison Brodie

 
Publication Date: January 9, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 
Brake Failure is a contemporary romance with a kick-ass heroine. The story is set in one of the most fascinating periods of America’s history: the months leading up to Y2K “melt-down.”

 

“Is it too late to tell him you love him when you’re looking down the barrel of his gun?”

 

Ruby Mortimer-Smyth is an English debutante, destined for Lady’s Day at Ascot and taking tea at The Savoy. She knows the etiquette for every occasion and her soufflés NEVER collapse.

She is in control of her life, tightly in control. Until fate dumps her down in … Kansas.

Ruby believes that life is like a car; common-sense keeps it on the road, passion sends it into a ditch. What she doesn’t know is, she’s on a collision course with Sheriff Hank Gephart.

Sheriff Hank Gephart can judge a person. Miss Mortimer-Smyth might act like the Duchess of England but just under the surface there’s something bubbling, ready to explode. She’s reckless, and she’s heading for brake failure. And he’s not thinking about her car.

With the Millennium approaching, Ruby gets caught up in the Y2K hysteria. She joins a group of Survivalists, who give her a gun and advise her to stockpile basic essentials, such as gasoline and water-purifying tablets. So she bulk-buys Perrier, Gentleman’s Relish and macaroons.

Ruby, far from home, is making Unsuitable Friends and “finding herself” for the first time. She falls in with a gang of Hells Angels and falls foul of the law. At every turn, she comes up hard against Sheriff Hank Gephart, whose blue eyes seem to look deep into her soul. She desperately wants him but knows she can never have him.
She’s angry at the emotions he arouses in her. Pushed to her limit, she bursts from her emotional straightjacket.

As the clock strikes midnight of the new Millennium, she’s on a freight train with three million dollars, a bottle of Wild Turkey and a smoking gun.

What happened to Miss Prim-and-Proper? And why did she shoot Mr Right?
______

Note: Alison Brodie wrote this story from first-hand experience. She lived in Kansas during this time and was stunned by the hysteria, unnerved that the US government was spending $150 billion preparing for Armageddon. As Lionel Shriver says in “We have to Talk About Kevin”: ‘1999, a year widely mooted beforehand as the end of the world.’


What Others Are Saying

5 * “OMG…I freakin’ LOVED this book…going on the list of one of my favorites of 2016.” – Star Angels Reviews

5* “Everyone needs to read this book. It’s blooming brilliant.” – The Reading Shed

5* “Hilarious.” – Lauren Sapala, Book Reviewer and Writers’ Coach

5* “A laugh-out-tale that will keep you flipping the pages as fast as possible.” – Tome Tender

5* “Empowering…comical…refreshing.” – San Francisco Book Review




 


Pre Order Your Copy NOW!

 


 

Amazon CA 



 


That afternoon, Ruby parked outside Shady Acres. She couldn’t wait for Gephart to ask her out on a date. Then she could tell him she was married. Ha!
He sat in reception. In full uniform. Why couldn’t he have changed into civilian clothes? Now he would make her look like an offender. Or was that his intention? Just because she’d put a few scratches in his police car.
‘Hi, Ruby.’ He stood up, crushing a plastic cup in one hand and tossing it in the bin.
She stared pointedly down at his belt. ‘Are you going to put me in handcuffs?’ she asked sarcastically.
He winked. ‘Not if you’re good.’
Ruby blushed. Why was it that every time she gazed into his eyes, she felt as if a hand was pressing down on her chest? She was only thankful that once she started reading to the old lady, Hank Gephart would go.
The receptionist was busy dealing with two elderly gentlemen, so Ruby and Hank had to wait to sign-in. Ruby felt strangely jittery in the big man’s presence. She only wished he wouldn’t stand so close. She inched further along the reception counter and, wanting to hide her nervousness, started squaring up the brochures into neat piles.
He came closer. ‘Ruby, I don’t like you mixing with Hells Angels.’
She felt his warm breath on her cheek. ‘Is there a law against that?’ Refusing to look at him, she picked up a brochure and found herself reading about incontinence.
‘No, but-’
‘Then, presumably, I have the freedom to choose with whom I associate?’
‘Yeah, but I’m warning you-’
Warning you. Angrily, she grabbed up another brochure and flicked through it at speed, false teeth and hearing-aids flashing by. ‘Why do you have to be so aggressive? Why can’t you say, “may I suggest?”’
‘Okay.’ He rested his arm along the counter and leant towards her. His eyes were blue, very blue. ‘May I suggest you keep away from them?’
‘No, you may-!’ She stopped abruptly. A matronly nurse was hovering beside them.
‘Well, Hank,’ the nurse said gaily. ‘Is this your lady friend you’ve been telling us about?’
Hank beamed down at Ruby with proprietary pride. ‘It sure is.’
‘I’m not his lady friend,’ Ruby mumbled.
‘Nice to meet you, Ruby,’ the nurse said. ‘I’m Amy.’ She beckoned with a finger as if tempting two small well-behaved children to an exciting treat. ‘If you want to come along, Mrs Amstruther is waiting.’
As they walked along the corridor, Ruby noticed two pretty nurses break off from their conversation to study her. She sensed that Hank had been gossiping about her. She caught up with Amy, determined to quash whatever rumours were flying around. ‘I am not at all familiar with Geph- I mean, Hank.’
The nurse stopped at a door and knocked. ‘I love your accent.’
Ruby persisted. ‘I have merely bumped into him on various occasions.’
‘We know.’ The nurse winked and opened the door. ‘You two go on in.’
As Ruby spluttered indignantly, Hank took her by the elbow. ‘Mrs Amstruther?’ he called. ‘I’ve brought my friend to meet you.’
‘Come in, come in,’ a quavery voice replied.
Ruby stepped across the threshold and froze.
Mrs Amstruther was blind.
The old lady was sat up in bed, dressed in a faded, flower-print bed-jacket, her eyes wrapped in bandages; her skin appeared almost translucent, the pink skull showing beneath a mop of dazzling white hair. She smiled sweetly, reaching out a tentative hand.
Ruby felt a pang. Mrs Amstruther shouldn’t be here; she should be in a cottage-garden in Devon with a wicker table laden with a cream tea and a vase of freshly cut delphiniums; and surrounded by her grandchildren.
‘Dear Hank,’ Mrs Amstruther murmured. Ruby stepped forward, and put her hand in the old woman’s. ‘Hello, I’m Ruby.’
‘Oh, how lovely to hear an English voice! You’re so kind, Ruby; volunteering to read to a boring old lady like me.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’
‘Hank didn’t bully you, I hope?’ Mrs Amstruther said in mock gravity.
With an ache of sadness, Ruby gazed down at the old woman so far from home – a home she would never again see. Ruby realised the childish bickering between her and Gephart was pathetic. The discord she had brought into the room, evaporated. ‘I didn’t need to be bullied. I was delighted with Hank for asking me.’
‘Do take a seat, Ruby, dear,’ the old woman said.
Ruby pulled an armchair closer to the bed. The room was sunny, the walls covered in framed photographs of children at the seaside. Beyond the window, at the far perimeter of a vast lawn, a freight train rumbled passed, the melancholic blast of its horn fading into the distance. Gephart, too, was watching it.
Mrs Armstruther’s hand was searching the rumpled bedding. ‘Ruby, could you possibly read a few pages of Wind in the Willows? My son loved it when he was little.’ She brought out a book from under the covers. ‘It’s so annoying not being able to see. Thankfully the bandages come off at the end of the month.’
‘So it’s not …?’
‘What, dear?’
‘Permanent?’ Ruby asked, taking the book.
‘Oh, no, it’s just cataracts; the curse of old age.’
Ruby, discovering the old woman would recover her sight, felt a lightness of spirit; felt she could embrace all her fellow beings – including Hank. He was standing, studying the photos on the wall. Catching his eye, she smiled at him, tilting her head towards the door, a silent message that he could leave.
He wrinkled his brow, evidently unable to gauge her meaning.
She tried again, running her fingers through the air towards the door.
He gave her a stupid look.
‘Are you going?’ she mouthed silently.
He nodded to signify that he understood. Then he shook his head, walked over to the armchair by the window, sat down and rested his hands squarely on his knees.
He was obviously staying.
‘Have you ever read Wind in the Willows, Ruby?’ Mrs Amstruther asked.
‘Yes, years ago.’
The old lady laughed. ‘Mole is delightful, isn’t he? Who is your favourite character?’
‘Toad. I loved it when he dressed up as a woman to escape the police.’ Ruby instantly regretted the words. ‘Of course, I don’t identify with Toad,’ she added hastily, forcing herself not to look at Gephart. ‘I just think he’s a loveable rascal.’
‘Isn’t he just!’ Mrs Amstruther settled back to enjoy the story, and Ruby began:
‘“The Mole had been working hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home …”’
Why is P.C. Plod hanging about anyway? Surely he’s not interested in riverbank creatures.
‘“First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash till he had dust in his throat and eyes and splashes of white-wash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms …”’
He’s staring at me; I know he is.
‘“Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below …’”
This was too much! Ruby glared at him. ‘Haven’t you got a murder to solve?’
‘What?’ Mrs Amstruther jerked in confusion.
Ruby was appalled by her thoughtlessness. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs Amstruther, I was talking to Hank. You see, I don’t want to keep him from his work.’
He folded his arms across his chest and grinned. He was obviously taking delight in her embarrassment. ‘I’m off-duty,’ he said.
For the sake of the old lady, Ruby had to speak sweetly, but there was nothing stopping her from raking the man from head to foot with hostile eyes. ‘Do you always wear uniform when you’re off-duty?’
‘I do when I haven’t had time to get to my locker and change.’
She couldn’t bear to look at that smug face a second longer. She snatched up the book and continued to read. ‘“Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below-’” She stopped in confusion, her cheeks a fiery red.
‘Oh, I’ve read that bit already.’
She could sense him laughing at her. And he was!
He stood up, his eyes dancing mischievously. ‘I’ve got a feeling Ruby can’t concentrate with me here. I’m flustering her pretty little head.’
Her relief that he was going was rapidly replaced by horror. That awful man was insinuating she fancied him! As he passed by, he bent and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby … Sweet Cheeks,’ he said softly, squeezing her shoulder.
Wide-eyed and apoplectic, she watched him walk to the door.
‘He’s such a lovely man,’ Mrs Amstruther said after he had gone.
Ruby couldn’t trust herself to speak.
‘The nurses say he’s very handsome. Is he?’
Ruby was still pinning the door with a look of fury. ‘O-h-h, you don’t want to know what I think.’
She picked up the book, her decision made.
She was no longer angry; in fact, she was rather jubilant. Like any institution, this building would have a goods delivery entrance. Well, Gephart, she thought complacently. You’re about to have a long wait because Sweet Cheeks, here, is going out the back.



 


 
Alison Brodie is a Scot, with French Huguenot ancestors on her mother’s side of the family.  Alison was a photographic model, modelling for a wide range of products, including Ducatti motorbikes and 7Up.  She was also the vampire in the Schweppes commercial. 

A disastrous modelling assignment in the Scottish Highlands gave Alison an idea for a story, which was to become Face to Face.  She wrote Face to Face as a hobby and then decided to send it off to see what would happen.  It was snapped up by Dinah Wiener, the first agent Alison sent it to.  Three weeks later, Alison signed a two-book deal with Hodder & Stoughton.  Subsequently, Face to Face was published in Germany and Holland.  It was widely reviewed, ie:  “Vain, but wildly funny leading lady.” -Scottish Daily Mail.  It was also chosen as Good Housekeeping’s “Pick of the Paperbacks.” 

Unfortunately, Alison then suffered from Second-Book Syndrome.  The publisher’s deadline loomed and she was terrified because she didn’t have an idea for a story!  She found the whole experience a nightmare; and this is why she cautions first-time authors to write more than one book before approaching an agent.  She managed to finish the book – Sweet Talk – but it bombed.

While writing Sweet Talk, she moved to Kansas and lived there for two years.  She loved the people, their friendliness, their free-and-easy way of life, the history and the BBQs!  Sadly, her visa ran out and she had to come back to the UK – although her dream is to one day live permanently in America.  Now, Alison lives in Biarritz, France.

Alison has taken the exhilarating steps to becoming an indie author.  Her second ebook, THE DOUBLE, is out on Amazon Kindle with some great reviews.  “Excellent.” – San Francisco Book Review.

Alison writes contemporary romance.  She aims for a strong plot line, set against the background of a world-changing event, coupled with touches of humour, sexual tension and character transformation.
She loves to hear from her readers.

 
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BLOG TOUR ~ Face-Off At The Altar (The Assassins Series) by Toni Aleo

 

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Markus Reeves is sucking. Big-time. Toiling away on a minor-league hockey team hundreds of miles away from home, he’s watching his dreams of an NHL career fade away. Add in the lingering guilt he has over the dramatic demise of his relationship with college girlfriend, Mekena, and he’s a mess on and off the ice.
 

But the family of his heart, the Sinclairs, won’t let Markus suffer any longer. When he arrives himself back in Nashville for a trial run on the Assassins, it feels like his life may be making a turn for the better. If only he could get Mekena to forgive him…

 

Mekena Preston has been hurting since fleeing Nashville following the horror of Markus’s betrayal with her sister. Now a professional photographer, Mekena finds herself in the same place at the same time with Markus to celebrate Lucy and Benji Paxton’s wedding. Neither of them has been able to move on—and they’re starting to wonder if they really want to.

 

They’re headed for a face-off at the altar unless they can confront their past and unearth the truth about what really happened on that fateful night.

“You are, by far, the most patient man I know.”
Baylor grimaced as she took Dawson from Markus’s outstretched hands. He smiled as Dawson looked at him innocently. He knew the little guy didn’t mean to puke all over him and he wasn’t upset, but he was trying to figure out a way to get to the house and shower before he had to talk to Mekena. He highly doubted that baby puke would be an aphrodisiac. Maybe it would be? Huh.
He wasn’t going to try, though.  
As Baylor cuddled Dawson against her, Markus waved her off. “It’s no big deal. He’s a baby.”
She smiled shyly. “Yes, but Ashlyn pooped on you too.”
He grinned as he shrugged, trying not to laugh. It was a tough rehearsal for Dawson, Ashlyn, and Markus. Puke and poop were big-time stars during the hour of watching the Sinclairs and Grace Justice try to put together a wedding. He wasn’t sure what was funnier, Jace glaring as Jordie walked with Avery, or Ashlyn farting and then realizing she had just shit all over him. It was a toss-up, but then Dawson decided to puke down the front of his shirt, and he figured he was now a substitute for a baby rag. “I volunteered.”
“Still, we’re really sorry,” Avery said, holding Ashlyn close as she rocked her back and forth. “I understand if you don’t want to watch her ever again.”
“Nonsense,” he said, laughing as he tucked his hands into his pockets and looked around. He spotted Mekena at the front of the altar, taking pictures of random things. He wasn’t sure if she was done, but maybe he could slip away. “How much longer until y’all are done?”
“We’re done, but Lucy and Benji have some pre-wedding pictures they’re having done with Angie.”
“So Mekena isn’t done?”
Avery smiled. “Nope, she’s got a bit.”
“Can you pass a message for me?”
“Sure.”
“Let her know that I went back to the cabin to shower and clean up?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll tell Jace to tell her since I’m taking Ashlyn to bed.”
“Cool, thanks,” he said, kissing her cheek and then Baylor’s, before rubbing Dawson’s head. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Before he could get far, though, Baylor smiled. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime. I mean that.”
Avery smiled. “Thanks.”
“Also, good luck,” Baylor added.
Flashing them both a big grin, he nodded. “I need it.”
Heading out the back, he made it back to the cabin quickly. When he entered, though, Mr. Right was sitting on the windowsill howling. “Whoa, man. What’s up?”
Meoooooowwwwwwww, he wailed, with his mouth wide open as his hair stood on end.
“Bro, I don’t know what to say. I don’t speak your language. Are you singing? Do you want me to sing too? Meoooowwwwww,” he said, and Mr. Right looked back at him, almost with a glare. “We should add some beat to that and make a remix,” Markus joked as the cat wailed. Deciding that was a good idea, he pulled out his phone and started to beatbox as the cat wailed, recording it on his SnapChat. The cat must have realized what he was doing because he looked back, scowling, and Markus hid his phone. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mr. Right kind of freaked him out.



 


My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

 

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