Category Archives: New Releases

BLOG TOUR ~ Sexual Encounter by LK Collins

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Sexual Encounter is a quick and dirty, over the top, insta-love read. Jett and Natalie will have you on the edge of your seat, waiting in anticipation for what’s next, and trust me, you’ll want to find out what happens ‘cause it’s oh-so-naughty.

I’m not supposed to want Natalie Valero, not the way my body does, in every consumable way possible. But from the moment I laid eyes on her, I craved her like never before.

As I sit across the table from her, listening to all the disrespectful things her husband—my client—is saying to her, I can’t help wanting to protect her.
It makes me want to wipe her tears away.
To show her how a real man speaks.
The only way I’d ever make her cry is begging me for more.
But it’ll never happen.
Natalie is off limits to me; a line any lawyer knows you don’t cross.

But fuck does my cock want to.

Maybe just once—maybe…

Sexual Encounter is the first book in a three-book mini-series of standalone reads, all of which have an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger—just panty-melting hotness.
 

The official trailer for SEXUAL ENCOUNTER
 
From International Bestselling Author, LK Collins, comes Sexual Encounter a quick and dirty, over the top, insta-love read. Sexual Encounter is the first book in a three-book mini-series of standalone reads, all of which have an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger—just panty-melting hotness.

LK Collins is the naughty alter ego for the husband-and-wife duo behind multiple bestselling and international bestselling novels. This real-life couple is downright dirty in the bedroom, which bleeds through the pages of their steaming hot stories. While LK writes the books, Mr. Collins, the tattooed god himself, is the mastermind behind so much of the page-turning sexiness.

If you are looking for a scorching read with chemistry so intense it jumps off the pages, then an LK novel is for you. From standalones to series, their stories will have you blushing and panting, ready to reread them the moment you’ve finished. The heroes are alpha, demanding, filthy-talking men that will do anything for their girl…or to get them.

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Copyright © 2017 AUTHOR LK COLLINS, All rights reserved.

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Marrying Emily (Delta Force Heroes) by Susan Stoker

Marrying Emily 
(Delta Force Heroes)
by Susan Stoker

Date of Publication: February 7, 2017

Blurb

Few people know better than Delta Force soldiers that life is unbearably short and achingly precious. So Cormac Fletcher isn’t waiting one more day to marry the love of his life, Emily.

Fletch has already adopted her daughter, Annie. Now it’s time to officially make Emily his too.

Emily understands just about every woman experiences a few wedding snafus―but they’re usually not of the harrowing, life-or-death variety. Fortunately for her, a guest list full of Delta soldiers and SEALs will make this an event to remember―for both Emily and the uninvited guests trying to ruin her special day.

Available From

 

About Susan Stoker


New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author, Susan Stoker has a heart as big as the state of Texas where she lives, but this all American girl has also spent the last fourteen years living in Missouri, California, Colorado, and Indiana. She’s married to a retired Army man who now gets to follow her around the country.


She debuted her first series in 2014 and quickly followed that up with the SEAL of Protection Series, which solidified her love of writing and creating stories readers can get lost in.


Find Susan Stoker Online

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Beaus & Arrows – A Valentine’s Inspired Anthology

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Flowers are fun, but diamonds and forever win our hearts.
22 authors have come together to bring you everything you want in an anthology.
From first kisses to botched proposals, boss crushes to rockstar lovin’, these fun novellas will give you the
happily ever afters you crave.

This amazing collection packed full of romance to help you through that delicious box of chocolates will also give some love back.
All profits from Beaus & Arrows is going to Pennies-4-Paws!!

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NOW AVAILABLE for ONLY $0.99!

Amazon US: 

Amazon UK: 

**Additional Retailers to follow**


Anthology Description

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Perfectly Us by Abby Brooks:
A secret Valentine’s Day proposal almost ruins everything for this small town couple.

 

 

 



Right For Love.by Aria Cole:

One night, one dress, him and her. But can one swipe right really lead to love?



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Pinnacle – A Destined Series Story by Ashley Suzanne:
A sexy, NYC getaway weekend for Mira and Skylar lead them to altar … just not their own!

 

 


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The Wedding-Night Stand by Ava Harrison:
When one night of passion turns into forever.

 

 

 



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One Night by Callie Anderson:
Landon Winthrop walked into my life and consumed my mind, body, and heart.
The only problem–he’s my boss.

 



All Wrong by Callie Harper:

From spilling hot coffee all down her shirt to getting locked in a closet at a party, Sarah’s Valentine’s Day is going all wrong. But when an insanely hot crush gets involved, can some things go so wrong they become just right?


Love on a Plane by Ilsa Madden-Mills:
Spider didn’t mean to fall for the uptight girl he sat next to on the plane. But once they kissed, all common sense went out the tiny window next to her. Too bad she was his future stepsister…


Taking My Shot by Jen Frederick


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Someone Not You by Jessica Hawkins:
Justin’s dazzling smile and wit have never failed him in the dating department—until his boss challenges him to win a date with the one girl who might be immune to his charms.

 


A Very Locklaine Valentine by Jessica Prince:
The story of Richard’s epically disastrous proposal to Delilah.


What Love Built by JL Berg:
The entire Cavenaugh family reunites for what is sure to be a very memorable Valentine’s Day.



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Special Delivery by Liv Morris

 

 

 



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Mr. First Time by L.J. Shen:
A real-life story about first love, first kiss and all the things that make your heart beat faster.

 


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Rhythm by Mandi Beck:
Grab front row seats to Wrecked’s Valentine’s Day show and see just how sexy loving a rock star can be. Especially when he’s got a stash of lollipops.

 


Livi’s Love by MJ Fields:
A Caldwell Brothers novella. Hendrix Caldwell loves his woman hard and his dog, too. Livi Caldwell is surrounded in a new world full of love, devotion, and a man who will do anything to keep her from stressing. Floyd, the couple’s pit bull has found herself in a predicament. What lengths will Hendrix go to for Livi and Floyd? In the end, Livi teaches her man once again there is always more love in this family to go around.


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Yes, Yes, Yes by Nicola Rendell:
A chocolate tasting gets dirty


 


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Game For Two: A Valentine’s Staycation by Rachel Blaufeld:
Drew & Jules escape the madness for a romantic night at the beach.

 


Backfire by Rebecca Yarros:
Bash’s perfectly planned proposal goes awry when he’s called away for a fire.


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Entwined by SE Hall:
My Valentine’s Day gift to all of you who asked for it – the wedding of Dane Kendrick and Laney Jo Walker.

 


Love and Latte by Sharon Hamilton


Beauty Knot by Stephie Walls:
From marks and scars to joy and triumph, Callie and Liam finally get their fairytale. After nine years, this shotgun wedding goes every way but smoothly.


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The Brightest Star by Yessi Smith:
A story about two souls who continue to fall deeper into each other every day, as life unravels around them.

 


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BLOG TOUR ~ Embody (Full Circle series) by SE Hall

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Title: Embody
Full Circle Series
Author: S.E. Hall

Genre: New Adult Romance

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My world changed when I met Bellamy Morgan.
Just one problem — she’s my little sister’s best friend.

synopsis

I’m not “damaged.” No horrible childhood or demons in my past I’m trying to outrun. In fact, my family is ideal — funny, supportive and filled with couples that all follow “our” golden rule:

Find her. Protect her. Love only her, with everything you are, every day, for the rest of your life.

So why is it the mere thought of a monogamous relationship, more than one night with the same woman, sends me bolting in the other direction?

Because I hadn’t met Bellamy Morgan yet.

When I do cross paths with her, everything starts to slowly make sense. Why men change overnight — suddenly blind to all women but her, happy to hold her purse and watch corny movies.

Just one problem — she’s my little sister’s best friend.

Embody is a spin-off, STANDALONE novel from the bestselling Evolve Series.

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Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU
iBooks | B&N


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excerpt

JT

Going to fucking attack her. In the nicest way possible of course, but attack nonetheless.

She expects me to sit still, way over here, when I could be on her in one move? Sliding my tongue over the firm swells about to topple out of her top. Inching those little panties down her long, smooth legs to sink my face into her sweet, bare pussy.

Yeah, this isn’t gonna work for me. My baby’s smokin’ hot body is barely hidden, a few teasing strips of lace the only things standing between me and fucking nirvana. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t show her, Right. Now. How good I can make her feel?

And what has gotten into her? My sweet, shy, virginal Bellamy has gone all wildcat on me…not that I’m complaining, just wondering is all.

She knows I’m looking my fill; her cheeks flushed a beautiful, innocent pink, her chest rising and falling with her shallow breaths. God, I want her. Want to devour every single part of her, slowly the first time—memorizing all the trembles, whimpers and soft moans I know she’ll give me. Then start over, like a fucking savage—biting, sucking and tasting until she begs me inside her, never to leave.

I hear my own deep, frenzied breaths as I adjust my rock-hard cock, threatening to bust out of my zipper. Feeling the leak of pre-cum, the deep, pulling ache in my balls.

“Jefferson,” she purrs my name, uncrossing her legs only to sexily cross them again. “I see I have your undivided attention, so there’s a few things we need to discuss.”

“Do I want to eat you out? Yes.”

She gasps, as though offended, but the sheer lace betrays her, showcasing her nipples that harden into sharp little points, begging for my mouth.

Her lids droop lazily and a desire, need, matching my own shapes her raspy voice. “No, and don’t be so vulgar. We already talked about lying, so we won’t rehash that. We will, however, move on to other behaviors that need rectified. I believe in positive reinforcement and since you speak Mars and I speak Venus, we’re gonna learn to meet in the middle and speak Earth. Thus, my risqué ensemble.”

“I don’t care if we talk in Neptunish, so long as you keep wearing it. Or let me take it off you,” I practically howl, nearing my breaking point.

“The car,” she breezes right over my reasonable request and states in a no-nonsense voice. “I didn’t want it, and don’t feel comfortable having it forced upon me. Jefferson, what you need to learn is how to harness your protective, alpha instinct in a way that makes me want what you want. It’s called finesse. The fine line between turning me on so much that I can’t wait to make you happy and pissing me off so bad I want to slap you, again. Now, tell me what would be a better way to approach that type of thing next time.”

She brushes her long, auburn locks behind her shoulders, giving me an unencumbered view of her chest and beautiful, mouthwatering cleavage. And I’m supposed to think?

“Baby,” I try not to whine like a virgin with the tip already in, “I don’t know the answer. Help me out here, I’m dying.”

“Why did you insist on the car?” She may be trying to pull off “emboldened,” but her hand trembles as she lowers one thin strap of her top a few inches off her shoulder, baring just a hint of one swollen, dark pink areola. I groan in actual pain, shifting again to give my swelling cock some room to suffer.

“Because I care about you, very much, and the thought of your long bus rides with God only knows how many horny, ill-mannered men makes me crazy. With a car, you can sleep in, sit down and have a decent breakfast, toss your books in the backseat and give us more time to spend together. Time we currently spend chasing each other around town because of bus schedules, my job and miscommunication.”

That’s what you should have said, discussed with me before pulling into the dealership. Do you see the difference?”

“I see part of your nipple.” I scoot to the edge of the couch.

She shakes her head with an exasperated tsk and no, God, no…pulls the strap back up.

“Okay, I get it! Pull it back down, baby.”

“Try it. Pretend it’s yesterday and talk to me about your car idea.” She grins, thriving on my torture.

Any thought I’ve ever had about luring Bellamy out of her shell, building her comfort level to be physical with me…this is not what I had in mind. Leave it to my feisty lil’ woman to switch up the plans on me.

I begin to recite the same speech I just gave her, inserting a “please,” “whatever you want,” and “totally up to you” as often as I can. When I’ve said all I can possibly think of in a deep, sexy voice, I wait.

“Very good, babe. Remember that though next time you get some crazy idea on rearranging my life or bossing me into something. I don’t want lip service. I want mutual respect, and sexy assertion that I can’t resist, even when I’m clothed.” She dazzles me with a disarming smile…and lowers the left strap all the way down.

Fucking beautiful. Real, round, high, firm and topped with a rosy nipple of the perfect size. My chest vibrates with my approving rumble, my lips and fingers both twitching for a sample.

“Bellamy,” I warn her, feral and untamed, scooting closer, the very edge of the couch quickly disappearing.

“Stay put, Jefferson. I mean it. We’re not done. I’ll be paying the sales tax and the fee to register the car. And if things between us don’t work out, I’ll be giving it back.”

Precious. But wrong. So wrong. “The sales tax was paid as part of the deal. If paying to register it makes you happy, fine. As for the other,” I slowly inhale, weighing the consequences, and decide to go on, “I don’t want to think about us not working out.”

“I don’t either,” she smiles sweetly. Glad she agrees because not working out simply isn’t an option. “You’re quite the quick study, Jefferson.” Her hooded, jade eyes hold my gaze prisoner as she slips the right strap down over the tan slope of her shoulder. Her whole, gorgeous chest is bared to me now, skin flushing under my unwavering, lascivious stare.

My girl is stacked. If I wasn’t a “boob guy” before…I sure as hell am now.

“Baby, damn. I have to touch you,” I growl, starting to rise.


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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

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about-the-author

S.E. Hall

S.E. Hall, lover of all things anticipation and romance, is the author of The Evolve Series: Emerge, Embrace, Entangled, Entice, Endure and companion novellas Baby Mama Drama and Guide for Tools Looking to Date My Daughter by character Sawyer Beckett. S.E. also wrote the standalone, Finally Found novels Pretty Instinct and Pretty Remedy and her latest release, standalone, contemporary romance Unstable.

Her co-written works include The Provocative Professions Collection: Stirred Up, Packaged and Handled 1&2, One Naughty Night and full-length, standalone novels Matched and Filthy Foreign Exchange with Angela Graham as well as Conspire, a romantic suspense, written with Erin Noelle.

S.E. resides in Arkansas with her husband of 20 years and 3 daughters of the home. When not writing or reading, she can be found “enthusiastically cheering” on one of her girls’ softball games.

Facebook | Twitter |Website | Amazon | Goodreads | Instagram | Newsletter | SE Hall’s Crew


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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ Tangled in Texas (Texas Rodeo, #2) by Kari Lynn Dell


Title: Tangled in Texas9781492631972-pr 

Series: Texas Rodeo, #2

Author: Kari Lynn Dell

Pub Date: February 7, 2017

ISBN: 9781492631972

 

It took 32 seconds to end his career.
But it only took 1 to change his life.

Thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it took for Delon Sanchez’s life to end. One minute he was the best bronc rider in the Panhandle and the next he was nothing. Knee shattered, future in question, all he can do is pull together the pieces…and wonder what cruel trick of fate has thrown him into the path of his ex, the oh-so-perfect Tori Patterson.

Tori’s come home after her husband’s death, intent on escaping the public eye. It’s just her luck that Delon limps into her physical therapy office, desperate for help. All hard-packed muscle and dark-eyed temptation, he’s never been anything but a bad idea. And yet, seeing him again, Tori can’t remember what made her choose foolish pride over love…or why, with this second, final chance to right old wrongs, the smartest choice would be to run from this gorgeous rodeo boy as fast as her boots can take her.

Buy Links:

Amazon

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Barnes & Noble

Chapters

iBooks

Indiebound


FROM THE AUTHOR

Sortin’ the Herd—How a Real Cowgirl Cuts Off the Straystangled-kirkus

Nowadays pretty much anyone can pop online and order up a full set of cowboy duds to wear to their nearest rodeo. Which I think is awesome, by the way. The companies that sell those hats, boots and peart snap shirts are also the sponsors that keep my favorite sport in business. I’d be thrilled to pull into the next rodeo and see a Stetson or Resistol on every head, and Justin or Ariat boots on every pair of feet. But it also makes it harder for a girl to tell…which are the real cowboys, and which are just playing the part?

Luckily, it doesn’t take long to sort off the bleacher buckaroos. I’ve put together a few never-fail tips to help you identify the wanna-be’s, like this one:

He shows you his scar and waxes poetic about the bucking bronco that gave it to him. Cowboys don’t have broncos, unless they have purchased a boxy Ford vehicle which is now at least twenty years old and has been repurposed so they and at least three traveling partners can bed down in the back, along with all their gear and a beer cooler. At the rodeo—and sometimes, unexpectedly, on cold, windy days at the ranch—we ride broncs. Or bucking horses. Or “you dirty rotten—”…um, on second thought, probably not an appropriate word for this post. But infinitely more cowboy than calling them broncos.

Take note of the word in bold face above. When you’ve finished reading about Tangled in Texas and enjoying the excerpt below, come on over to my blog, Montana for Real, to find the rest of my helpful hints. Collect all the of key words and you’ll get a free download of the unofficial soundtrack to Tangled in Texas.

Kari


EXCERPT

Tori hunched her shoulders against the chilly breeze and walked around to the side of the building. The staircase was metal, narrow and steep. No way would she let Delon go up those alone. She went back to find him maneuvering his leg out of the car. He hissed in pain when his toe caught on the doorframe. She stepped closer and offered a hand. His fingers were warm and strong as always, but the clasp of his palm against hers felt different.

The calluses were gone. Those hard ridges on the fingers and palm of his riding hand that had been such a raspy, delicious contrast to her most sensitive spots. The nape of her neck. The inside of her thigh. Her nipples. She remembered how he’d smiled when he realized what it did to her—a dangerous smile full of wicked promises.

She let go so abruptly he lost his balance and had to grab the open car door to keep from toppling backward.

“Oops,” she said. “Slipped.”

And fell face first into another hormonal bog. Damn. She really had to get a hold of herself, before she went totally bonkers and tried to get a hold of Delon instead. That would be bad. Because he was her patient—and he was her past. They were both, to paraphrase his words, fucked up. Two broken halves couldn’t make a functional whole. Could they?

“I can make it from here,” he said.

She stepped back, but fell in beside him as he limped around the side of the shop. “Those stairs are treacherous.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. I’ll be fine.”

“I doubt you were half tanked before. So rather than stand back and watch you roll ass over teakettle down a flight of stairs, I’ll just follow you on up.” His expression went mutinous, his bottom lip poking out, and she laughed outright. “Wow. I bet that’s exactly what Beni looks like when he doesn’t get his way.”

His scowl dissolved into a weary sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it.” Beginning with her father’s divorce bomb, but she wasn’t thinking about that now.

Delon grasped the stair rail and stepped up with his good leg, then brought his sore leg level. Tori let him get two steps above her, then put her hand on the railing behind his, her upper body canted forward so she had leverage if he started to sway. Her position put his butt directly in her line of sight. Dear Lord, that was one nice butt. She yanked her gaze away, to a trio of trucks parked in a row alongside the shop, the chrome and polished paint of the tractors gleaming under the security lights.

A familiar fascination tugged at her sleeve. Big rigs had a sexy mystique, like modern day stagecoaches, the drivers perched high and proud, all that horsepower at their command. She’d had fantasies about Delon dragging her into one of those sleepers. Carrying her off to crisscross the country, just the two of them on an endless road trip, town after town of strangers who didn’t know or care who her father was. She gazed at the nearest black one, streamlined as a stealth fighter. Climb on in, it whispered. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.

Her head rammed into Delon’s elbow as he stopped on the landing. When she stumbled, he grabbed the back of her coat and hauled her upright as easily as if she was Beni’s size.

“Good thing you came along to keep me safe,” he deadpanned, then raised his eyebrows. “Were you staring at my trucks?”

At first she thought he said butt, and her face went hot, before she realized he’d caught her checking out the semis. “They’re pretty.”

“Pretty.” He spit the word out in disgust. “Next thing, you’ll call them cute.”

She drew herself up, offended. “Cute is not in my vocabulary.”

“But you do have a thing for trucks.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s okay. Lots of girls do.” His smile was sly, his eyes gleaming with something wild and dangerous.

She suddenly realized they were face to face on the landing, their bodies touching, if you didn’t count the five layers of clothes between them. His hand was still on her shoulder and his fingers tightened fractionally, as if he would pull her even closer. Her heart sprouted legs and launched into a frantic gallop. Oh God. What if he kissed her? She wasn’t ready for that. Was she? If he leaned in and put his mouth on hers, would she shove him away, or devour him?


About the Author10904548_329608287246855_122230511325396069_o


Kari Lynn Dell
is a ranch-raised Montana cowgirl who attended her first rodeo at two weeks old and has existed in a state of horse-induced poverty ever since. She lives on the Blackfeet Reservation in her parents’ bunkhouse along with her husband, her son, and Max the Cowdog, with a tipi on her lawn, Glacier National Park on her doorstep and Canada within spitting distance.
Her debut novel, The Long Ride Home, was published in 2015. She also writes a ranch and rodeo humor column for several regional newspapers and a national agricultural publication.

LINKS:

Website
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GIVEAWAY

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Paying Daddy’s Debt by Alexa Riley

 

 

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When Ash Carpenter imagines a schoolgirl, the image doesn’t match her. She wears long skirts that are sort of frumpy. Her bulky sweaters hide her shape, and her hair is always in a messy bun. Her tennis shoes are clunky and worn, and there are runs in her thick tights. Her dark-framed glasses hide some of her face…but not all of it. Because he’s caught sight of those ice-blue eyes, and they’ve pierced him to his core.

She walks by his office every day, but one afternoon she’s missing. It’s then Ash finally decides he’s tired of waiting and it’s time to collect what he’s owed. She’ll come with him, because there’s no other choice. She’ll pay her daddy’s debt any way Ash sees fit.

Warning: Oh, honey, this is about to get filthy. If your delicate sensibilities can’t handle the dirty, then step aside for those of us who can. It’s quick, but it’s just the right length, if you know what I mean. *slow wink, elbow nudge, goofy snort*






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Alexa Riley
is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.
They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

Author Links
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VIRTUAL TOUR ~ Call to Honor by Tawny Weber

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Known for her distinctive ability to blend emotion, humor and suspense in tight gripping stories featuring irresistible alpha SEAL heroes, New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Tawny Weber returns with her brand-new novel, CALL TO HONOR, the first book of three in her SEAL Brotherhood series.


Call to Honor Virtual Blog Tour Giveaway:

Harlequin is offering one (1) lucky winner a $25 Amazon Gift Card!
To enter, simply click the Rafflecopter link below:

Giveaway Link:


Title: Call to Honor

Author: Tawny Weber

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Publisher: Harlequin

Release Date: January 31, 2017

 

The Poseidon team are hard-bodied, fiercely competitive navy SEALs. But when a sensitive mission goes disastrously wrong, three of the team’s finest will have to trust their hearts and instincts to uncover the truth…

“No man left behind” is inscribed in the DNA of every SEAL and Lieutenant Diego Torres is no exception. But with a team member killed—and the body missing—Diego’s honor is sorely tested. Now his career and reputation are on the line, and a traitor is hiding among them. Diego wants answers…and only one woman has them.

Single mom Harper Maclean has two priorities—raising her son Nathan and starting a new life. Her mysterious new neighbor may be impossibly charming, but Diego asks too many questions about her past—and about the father of her child. Questions she fears will reveal her burning attraction for Diego, and ultimately put them all in danger’s path.

Add to your TBR list:  Goodreads

Available:  Amazon  |  Barnes and Noble  |  Kobo  |  iTunes


Excerpt:

First Look:

“You’re the best, mister.” The kid had to get his smile from his mother, Diego decided. Because not once could Diego remember Ramsey’s smile making him want to offer one in return.

“Diego,” he said after a second, figuring talking was better than standing here on the sidewalk, grinning like an idiot. “You can call me Diego.”

“Cool. I’m Nathan. I’m seven. I’m gonna be a stunt­man when I grow up. Or a veterinarian. I’d rather be a Jedi warrior, but Mom says we’ll see about that one. She says that about a lot of stuff. We’ll see. What are you?”

Huh? Was that a question? The kid’s expression said it was, so Diego did a mental replay.

“I’m in security,” he said, using the cover Savino had decided on.

“Bet you’re good at it.” Grabbing the bike by the han­dles, the kid gave it a good shake, then grinned when the chain stayed in place. “You’re good at fixing things, too. Maybe you could teach me to fix some things?”

Diego didn’t have much experience with kids—hell, he didn’t have any experience. Despite that, he had to figure this one was something special.

Before he could answer him, a delivery truck rum­bled its way to a stop in front of the kid’s house. Some­thing he’d noticed was a regular occurrence. At least once, sometimes twice a day.

“You sure get a lot of deliveries,” he observed, watching a guy in shorts carry a stack of boxes toward the door.

“Yeah. Mom gets tons of stuff. She decorates for peo­ple’s houses. She orders pillows and bowls and things like that. Sometimes she gets material and things to help her decide colors.”

Convenient. Or it would be if Ramsey were run­ning drugs or stolen goods—that’d be a solid cover. But unless he’d shipped himself home in an ash can, it probably wasn’t pertinent. Lansky would claim oth­erwise, though, so Diego made a note to mention it in his next report.

He caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. All it took was a casual glance toward the house to send him rocking back on his heels.

Damn.

Not even signing for a slew of packages and fend­ing off the flirtations of the delivery guy were enough to keep Harper Maclean from sending her son a pro­tective frown.

So far his glimpses of her had been at a longer dis­tance than the twenty feet currently separating them. Her photos didn’t do her justice. He’d known she was a looker, but no way he’d have thought fully dressed in person could trump that bikini shot, even if that bikini shot had been kind of blurry.

He’d have been wrong.

Copyright © 2017 by Tawny Weber


BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

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About the Author:tawny-weber-author


The New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 40 books, Tawny Weber writes sassy, emotional romances with a dash of humor, featuring hot alpha heroes. The recipient of numerous awards, she has also hit number one on the Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestseller lists. Readers can visit Tawny’s website http://www.tawnyweber.com for free reads, first chapters, insider story info and much more. . You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. Tawny lives in Northern California with her family.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Flightless by L. Duarte

 

Title: Flightless

By: L. Duarte

Publication Date: January 23, 2017
Publisher: LD Publishing LLC
Genre: Romance
Cover Designer: Okay Creations
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Everyone has a story.Mine went like this: Once upon a time, I met a boy. He was the most handsome fella in the land. I fell in love. Together, we had cosmic chemistry. I believed I would live a life of unending bliss. Until he broke my heart. Shattered it to pieces. And I lived unhappily ever after instead. The end.

Or so I thought.

Life found a way to reunite us. But to change that unhappy ending, I had to learn how to forgive. And my heart seemed unable to do so.

This is a love story. But it is also, much more. It’s the story of how I coped with my shortcomings, my fears and rewrote my destiny. Everyone has a story. This is mine.


 

 

 
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 AMAZON 

 


Chapter One

I stepped back. Not literally, just figuratively. I did that with every concert. I allowed my mind’s eyes to hover over me and my fans while I analyzed and dissected the unique relationship between us.
As I watched the multitude of people—a beautiful kaleidoscope of different races and social statuses—my heart, in utter bliss, roared.
The audience held their hands upwards as if in an offering or a request. I never knew which. In perfect synchrony, their arms rolled in waves like the swaying of a stormy sea. Their voices cried out my name, and the smell of their sweat and the heat of their mingled bodies emanated from them, unfurling to me like the sweet perfume of incense.
I held the mic near my motionless lips and stared at them. At that moment, I became one with thousands. At that moment, I took back from the crowd all the energy I had fed them. And their vibe made me high and drunk. It was my personal Nirvana. The kind of rapture that can only be attained through uttermost intimacy. A oneness I had only felt with one other person. A person who had severed that connection and shattered my heart into a million shards of pain.
I worshiped them as they adored me. The exchange of atomic energy contained nuclear power. I was drained from giving. They were wasted from receiving. But we were both impossibly happy and satisfied.
My motionless lips finally moved, uttering the final words for the night. The parting words. “Good night, Sydney!” I waved a hand back at them. “You looked beautiful tonight. All forty thousand of you.”
I bowed. They deserved my reverence. People had spent their time camped outside the venue waiting for a closer glance at me. They had spent their precious earned money to see my performance. They were worthy of my respect and gratitude.
Another wave of a hand. A kiss. Another bow. And I was out. Another show was done. Eight more to go.
I jogged backstage and gave the mic to Jeremy, my makeup artist, in exchange for a bottled water. He opened a portable case containing all the potions that would quickly improve my appearance for the meet and greet. 
Before I took a swig from the bottle, Clara, my assistant, brusquely interrupted my post-concert ritual. She snatched the bottle from my hand and returned it to a confused Jeremy. “Gray. With me,” she demanded, grabbing my elbow and urging me toward my changing room.
I glanced back at the stunned face of Jeremy. It was time for meet and greet with the VIP’s. I needed to freshen up. My makeup had all but melted under the stage lights.
Once inside the privacy of the room, I demanded, “What’s going on?”
She raised a finger and said, “Wait.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Instead, I swallowed the words. Clara was usually a chatterbox; her clipped words quickly clued me in that something was seriously wrong.
As I waited, Clara dialed a number on her phone. Her silence became as unnerving as the red glare of an alarm light.
“Betty, I have Gray,” Clara said. Wordlessly, she shoved the device in my hand. The door closed with a thud after she exited in a flurry of silent drama. 
“Mama?” I asked holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Puppy,” Mama said in a soft, almost regretful tone.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Silence filled the other end of the line, only increasing my concern. Mama knew I had just left the stage. She followed my tour from home. Minute by minute. It was unusual for her to call me so soon following a show.
“How was, um, the, um, concert?” she asked.
“Mama, did you call me to ask how the show went?” I furrowed my brows and every hair on my body stood at attention. Mama knew my routine during a tour. After a performance, I had a brief meet with fans and then I would go on hours of silence to rest my vocal cords. Although she knew she could call me at any time, she never called until at least ten hours following a show.
“Mama?” I prodded after a long silence.
“I have cancer,” she said bluntly.
The phone connection was perfect. No static. But Mama’s words hummed in my ear with a tunnel-like quality. Distorted, altered, garbled. My mind, however, had remained sharp and alert. Without much thought and after a brief pause, I uttered the words, “I’m coming home.” I hadn’t said those words in over a decade. Somehow, they didn’t taste as foreign as I had imagined they would.

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“Gray,” I said. The word hovered on my tongue, saturating my taste buds with an acrid taste. “Gray,” I repeated, letting it roll off my tongue. I did that a lot. It was my name.
Often, I mused about my name. It hadn’t been given to me because it was fashionable. Nevertheless, it had a history. My history.
When I was little, I liked to fancy its origin. The sky, I would think, was painted gray the day I was born. I loved the theory. The unattainability of the infinite mass of gray made it a great namesake. Whenever gray clouds hovered in the sky, I would lay on my back and stare at them, dreaming that when I grew up, I would build an enormous ladder, climb it, and touch the gray painted dome. It was all, of course, a foolish child’s dream, born out of vain imagination. I wasn’t born during the day, nor was the sky gray. And it was most definitely not the inspiration behind the choosing of my name.
I was born in a graveyard. Serene Hills Cemetery, it was called, though its surface was flat. It was a fall night, October 20th, approximately 11 pm.
They found me covered in vernix. I used the term ‘they’ loosely. A dog found me. A female German Shepherd mix that went by the name of Sunshine. Her fur was golden. Shiny like sun rays. I had a newspaper cut-out of her. It’s black and white, but it described her that way. In the shot, she looked straight at the camera, two vivid round eyes dotting a long and alert face. She had the knowing stare of someone who was aware she had done a good deed.
Obviously, I don’t recall the details surrounding my birth. I was an infant. But I had Mama tell me the story so many times, which after a while, the images ingrained in my brain like the roots of a tree embedded in the fertile soil. They became so real in my imagination that it felt as if they were my recollections.
I was a born a preemie. Weak, small, and blotchy-faced. I was skin and bones with a mop of black spiky hair, and a bad case of a cold.   
A miracle, they called me. But I knew I was no wonder. I happened to have the perfect concoction of healthy lungs and a loud cry. These, and the sharp canine sense of hearing and smelling had saved me. I didn’t believe in miracles. Not anymore.
When they found me, decay from the trees covered the ground on a fascinating palette of colors—an array of red, yellow, purple, brown, orange, golden, bronze.
I used to question why the leaves change colors and fall off the branches. According to a scientific explanation, leaves are a weak and feeble part of a plant. So, before the weather gets severely cold, the trees should toughen up to protect themselves. Or simply dispose of the leaves, the weak part.
Personally, I believe they turn colors before falling as revenge. A personal vendetta. And for that I applaud them. They turn their death into a poetic and alluring sight. That line of thought made me believe death was beautiful. It fascinated me. It’s more interesting than birth, although similar.
I had been abandoned under a pile of dead foliage. According to the police investigation, it appeared my birth mother had buried me under the leaves. Hid me. Like a criminal attempting to cover its tracks. Supposedly, I spent the night under a cocoon of leaves. The tree’s decay was soaked with blood and amniotic fluid.
According to Sunshine’s owner, they were walking on the sidewalk by the cemetery when she heard a whizzing sound. Sunshine’s owner discarded the noise as being the cry of squirrels.
Sunshine didn’t. At odds with her sweet nature, she became agitated and broke loose. She squeezed through a small gap in the fence and disappeared between the gravestones, leaving her owner in a frenzy.
Less than a minute later, Sunshine returned. Her mouth muzzled around my small waist, my umbilical cord dragging, rattling the decayed leaves.
I found my story fascinating, unique. Or so I told myself whenever I got teased at school.
The hospital staff called me the Graveyard Miracle. Soon after, Gray for short. It stuck.
I spent three months in the hospital. That’s where Mama worked. The graveyard shift. She fed me. She bathed me. She caressed my skin. “My heart had not a chance. It fell madly in love with you,” she said, whenever she told me my story. Her pale hand, dotted with freckles, caressing my black, straight hair.
 When I became her child officially, she quit the night job. “I had brought home my very own Graveyard Miracle.”
She found a day job at a pediatric clinic, occasionally helping at the hospital for extra income. She continued working at the clinic throughout my childhood, adolescence, and after I left home. She remained there until cancer said, “No more.” Until cancer said, “I want your time. From now on, you are going to dedicate every waking hour to me. I’m egocentric. I want it all. I want your flesh and the total sum of your soul.”
That’s why I was there, sitting in the back of a limousine Clara had rented to pick me up from JFK airport and take me home.
“When should I schedule your flight to LA?” she had asked. “Only a one-way ticket for now,” I responded.
32 Lorelai Lane, my childhood home. It was a small Victorian-style house, built in 1929. The colorful foliage of a maple tree and an oak tree framed the dwelling as if it was extracted from the pages of a fairy tale book. When I was little, I used to fancy my house was lovely. The most enchanting place in all realms. Staring at the house, I discovered that I still thought that. It was the most magical place in the world because it was the place that humans refer to it as ‘home’. And home is a thing of fairy tales. Rare and pure.
The car door was wide open, awaiting me. I climbed out. The driver stood straight as a pole. His hands perfectly folded in front of him, his face impassive. I wondered how long he had stood there, waiting for me, questioning my sanity. The luggage was lined up at the front porch. His face remained expressionless when I pulled a generous tip from my purse and handed it to him. “Thank you,” I murmured.
He drove off, the sound of the engine trailing off into the quiet street. It was late at night. The crisp air smelled of burnt wood and autumn, reminiscent of bonfires and fireplaces.
I crossed the stone path leading to the front steps.
The hinges of the front door squeaked, and Mama slowly appeared as light spilled out from inside the house. She leaned against the doorframe, cocked her head, her eyes fixed on me. She knew me so well. She knew I needed the time.
I peered up, carefully examining Mama’s face. It had been only two months since I had last seen her, but she appeared decades older. Even under the porch’s pale yellowed light, I could detect the lines circling her mouth. Small bags sagged under her eyes, and her plump skin appeared loose, dripping like melting wax. Her hair showed inches of gray and her usual square and proud shoulders were smaller, fragile. But what got my attention the most were her eyes. Their vivid green had turned opaque.
The grief and sorrow in her stare set my feet in motion, and I climbed the steps.
When mama stepped forward, the old wooden floor groaned and creaked under her feet. She came to a halt at the top of the stairs. Her lips curved into a small smile, and her arms spread open in an inviting hug.
As I stepped forward, my legs felt wobbly with the weight of so many years of absence.

 


 

I have found that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I am always torn between the two. I am also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically do not like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.

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BLOG TOUR ~ His Fake Alien Fiancee by Patricia Eimer


His Fake Alien Fiancee
Out of this World #2
by Patricia Eimer

Publication Date: February 6, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Select Otherworld, Standalone, Sci-Fi, Romance, Funny, Fake Relationship

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SYNOPSIS:

Princess Perripraxis not only has to find a fiancé—and fast—she’s got to find one who doesn’t mind that her “no makeup” face has green and purple scales. Otherwise, Daddy Dearest has plans that don’t include Perri’s compliance. Candidate Number One: Her sexy human best friend, Brandt.

Bartender Brandt Turner didn’t need all those years in the army to teach him never to leave a man behind. Or an alien princess in need of a pretend fiancé. If she needs someone to play the lovesick fool to convince her dad to let her stay on Earth, well then, he’ll let the world think Cupid finally took him out.

But Perri’s father has no intention of playing nice—and he’s not above cruel and unusual alien torture to make things go his way. But Brandt is willing to complete the mission…however far he has to go.

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ABOUT PATRICIA EIMER

Patricia Eimer is a suburban mom who has days where she feels like she’s barely hanging on. She currently lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her two wonderful kids and a husband that learned the gourmet art of frozen pizzas to give her more time to write. When she’s not writing—or shuttling her children to a hundred different places a day– she can be found trying to cook (and sometimes blowing up hard boiled eggs), reading and arguing with her dogs about plot points. Most days the Beagle wins but the Dalmatian is in close second and her mastiff puppy is making a break for the inside. Patricia meanwhile is a longshot fourth.

When she’s not writing she can be found on Facebook, at her website or blogging about her attempts at cooking and her complete inability to craft as a contributor to the Suburban Flail Blog.  She is also a connoseiur of really bad science jokes.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Little Black Dress – Charity Anthology

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Little Black Dress Anthology
 Blog Tour & Review

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NEW!!! Only 99 cents and available on Kindle Unlimited!!

There’s something about the little black dress. The go-to wisp of material that’s perfect for any occasion. The quintessential LBD hugs, stretches, and moves with the female form. Every woman needs one at some point, and sometimes that means borrowing from a friend.

Starting with Abby, this lucky LBD makes its way into the stories of Lucy, Katie, and Winnie right when they need it most. Four women, four stories, and four happily ever afters…And it all started with one little black dress.

Warning: Keep your hands off our Little Black Dress if you’re not 18.

All net proceeds will be donated to Gilda’s Club, Rochester. With over 1,200 FREE programs offered to men, women, teens, and children, they offer much-needed social and emotional support to those living with cancer, their friends, and family.

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Only 99 cents and all proceeds go to charity!

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Click on the author’s name to find out more and join her on Facebook!

Sarah O’Rourke

Sarah Curtis

Brynne Asher

Layla Frost


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