BLOG TOUR: Winning Hollywood’s Goodest Girl by Max Monroe

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A baby on the way first.
Then love and marriage?
It’s complicated on its best day.

Winning Hollywood’s Goodest Girl, an all-new not-to-be-missed, surprise baby romantic comedy standalone by New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is available now!

WHGG Official cover 6x9 (2)

Raquel and Harrison sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
First comes love.
Then comes marriage.
Then comes a baby in the baby carriage.

That’s how her brother used to sing it when we were kids—a simple ploy to get under my skin and make me stick my fist in his face—but man oh man, did he get the order wrong.

One night of “kissing” in New York catapulted us straight to the pregnancy portion of the song—surprise!—and now I have to figure out how to carry out the whole melody in reverse.

A baby on the way first.
Then love and marriage?
It’s complicated on its best day.

But our situation is far more problematic than just a simple twist of nursery rhyme lyrics. Before our night together, Raquel Weaver was the best-known good girl in Hollywood—a twenty-nine-year-old sexpot virgin whom the world adored and watched like a hawk.

Obviously, the consequences of that kind of reputation don’t just go away. Add in pregnancy hormones, the media, a fake fiancé, and a selfish manager, and you have the short list of my problems.

As a thirty-four-year-old, successful CFO of a multibillion-dollar media conglomerate, I thought I would be able to handle anything show business could throw my way, but I’m starting to think I might be in over my head.

Good thing I’m all in.
Winning Hollywood’s goodest girl is going to take everything I’ve got.


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Excerpt

Harrison

Never cry over spilled milk.

That’s what my mom always said, but I have to admit, until today, I never paid it much attention. As a kid, I spilled shit all the time. Milk. Juice. Water. If it was liquid, I was splattering it all over fucking creation.

Our mop got a lot of action, sure, but every time, my mom would simply laugh. Not a little, demure giggle, but big, uproarious belly laughing. Ellie Hughes thought life was made for living, and she’d be damned if she let me dwell in the valleys. Hell, maybe that’s why I was always wreaking havoc on all of our flooring—my accidents were a precursor to something upbeat.

Anyway, I haven’t thought much about all those puddles of laughter in a long time.

But today is proof positive: my mom—well, she was a teacher way ahead of her time.

Cereal poured and the financial section of the New York Times in hand, I make my way to my circular, glass kitchen table and take a seat that faces the TV.

Hello, Today!, the syndicated fluff show during the eight o’clock hour on TBC, prattles on about the perfect Christmas breakfast for a family of four while an obnoxious elf bounces around in the background. I roll my eyes as some celebrity—fuck if I know who it is—pretends to know how to make frittatas and turn my eyes back to the paper.

Growing up, television was forbidden fruit in my childhood home. My hard-ass of a dad thought it was more important to read the Wall Street Journal and understand the stock market than watch what he called drivel. He was one of those top 1% people, and his power-wealthy position in life included uber-rich hedge funds, strategic million-dollar stock market swing trades, and a money-hungry mind-set.

The only time the one television—I’m serious, one fucking TV—in our home was actually used, it revolved around big news conglomerates and State of the Union addresses by current presidents.

But despite the old man’s eccentric views on television and movies and normal people’s forms of entertainment, I can’t deny that learning about the stock market at an early age and being forced to understand things like the global economy and trade deals has served beneficial in adulthood.

My morning routine normally synchronizes beautifully for an all-out news download before heading to the office. But today, because of a late dinner meeting last night and too many Christmas-themed cocktails that have nothing to do with the holly-sprig adorned ones on TV, I’m running behind schedule.

The great news is, as CFO of one of the largest media conglomerates in the world, I’m actually allowed to do that on occasion without getting docked on my time card. In fact, I haven’t seen an actual time card in ages. The only punching I do is at Tommy John’s Kickboxing on Wednesdays in a basement studio all the way over on 75th and Broadway.

In the interest of full punching disclosure: I suck at it. Mohammad Ali in training, I am not. But flab is real, friends, even for the studly men in your life, and punching a bag with little to no precision keeps the excess weight off me. In layman’s terms, it keeps the ladies from grabbing on to anything other than muscle in bed.

Ha.

Scratch that last line. They grab my dick; I didn’t mean to make it sound like they don’t. There’s actually more penile touching than any other kind of touching in the cottony comfort of my sheets, and I’m very good at touching the ladies, in turn, with my mouth and penis. In fact, when my dick hears the words dick pic, it asks for photo credit because it was most certainly the one taking the picture.

Okay, maybe I’ve gotten a little carried away, but my point is the same.

What I meant to imply was that they don’t grab on to a beer gut—and trust me, if I didn’t work out, they would. I love beer and chicken wings, and I indulge in them both on way too many occasions to maintain some kind of quota weight “naturally.” If it weren’t for all the strenuous, practically nightly kickboxing workouts, if I were a woman in the public eye, I would be a constant ludicrous headline for my “fluctuating waistline.”

Thankfully, I am trim, toned, and able to binge on buffalo wings whenever the fuck I want.

My cell vibrates across the table, and I snag it off the glass surface to see Incoming Call Cap flashing on the screen.

I sigh at the idea of listening to Caplin Hawkins’s bullshit before I’ve finished my first cup of coffee, but I answer it despite my better judgment.

“Harrison, you sly motherfucker, those stock tips you gave me last quarter have my portfolio growing green like I’m a damn cannabis farmer.” He forgoes a greeting and dives straight into what is most likely his selfish needs. “Should I be concerned you’re getting insider info?”

“Wow, it’s so great to hear from you too, bud.” I smirk and lick my finger to get traction on the thin paper and flip through the pages until I get to yesterday’s closing data for the Dow Jones and S&P 500. Quickly, I scan through the numbers. It’s only one week away from Christmas and a few weeks away from New Years’, and this month’s upward trend appears fairly optimistic for avoiding a choppy close to the year.

“Yesterday, HawCom was up five-fucking-percent. Seriously, dude, are you dragging me and my father’s company into some illegal bullshit?” he asks, and I look away from my newspaper to roll my eyes.

HawCom is the company I’ve been with for the past decade, and it just so happens to be owned by Cap’s father, Jared Hawkins. Financial management for a company of its scale has been tricky these days with the ongoing uncertainty of the market, but all in all, HawCom’s performance numbers have been stable and steadily growing for the last nine quarters. As a major media company with “silent” ownership in some of the world’s most relevant technology companies, it’s not completely unexpected, but it’s certainly not guaranteed.

“Is it difficult being the most ridiculous bastard on the planet?” I retort. “Because, fuck, I can imagine it gets hard coming up with new ways to be this insane.”

Despite this idiot’s stupid question, everything I do is by the book. No insider trading. No fraud. It all comes from a mind that’s been trained since childhood to be strategic and understand economic patterns.

And even if I shouldn’t, for the state of my motivation to maintain a certain work ethic, I do allow myself to take a little credit for HawCom’s success. I’ve been charged with a large job due to my leadership role in the company, but I cherish the opportunity. It’d be hard not to with an uncharacteristically kind and charismatic boss like Jared at the helm.

And for the last four months, I’ve made it a point to cherish everything.

See, I choose to be happy every day.

I choose gratitude and intention in my every action.

I choose the way my life plays out—all of us do.

It took me more than three busy, painful decades and the loss of both parents to figure that out, but now that I have, the freedom in it is impressive.

The truth is, until we die, all of us get to choose our own destiny—

“I swear to God,” Cap grumbles. “I will end you if I wind up in some kind of high-security prison for stock fraud.”

I laugh at the absurdity. “I help you grow your portfolio—without commission, mind you—and you’re threatening murder?”

“Are you deflecting, son?” he questions, always the fucking lawyer. “Because I swear on every-damn-thing, I will—”

“Relax.” I snort. “The only thing illegal about the stock tips I gave you was the fact that I handed them to you on a silver-fucking-platter without asking for anything in return.”

“Speaking of handing shit to me on a silver platter, let’s do that again,” he says, a cunning smile apparent in his voice. “Who is looking profitable for the first quarter of next year?”

“And why should I give you anything, you prick?”

“Because you love me. Because you don’t want to see me become a vagabond, living on the streets.”

“You’re one of the most successful corporate lawyers in North America who already has some of the world’s best advisers handling his money. I’m pretty sure a lack of financial investment advice from me isn’t going to break your bank.”

“Minor details.” He chuckles. “C’mon, dude. Help your best friend and his sweet, lovely, beautiful wife out.”

“Now you’re bringing Ruby into this?” I tsk. “For shame.”

“You and I both know, shameless or not, I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want,” he retorts, and I laugh outright.

“Are you wanting stock tips or to get me into bed? Because, truthfully, it feels like it could go either way at this point.”

Of course, he doesn’t miss a fucking beat. “I’ll even toss in a candlelit dinner and champagne if that’s what it’s going to take.”

Just for the sake of ending this insanity, I start to open my mouth with a few companies that are worthy of investments in the upcoming quarter, but a shrill voice on the screen of the TV steals my attention. I wouldn’t normally refer to any woman’s voice as shrill because I find it incredibly sexist and demeaning, but I’m telling you, for the sake of painting an accurate description, this particular voice, regardless of its bearer’s gender, is like the distress call of a wounded rabbit. I couldn’t miss it if I were in an underground bunker with six feet of sound-dampening dirt between us. And somehow, somehow, she still made it on TV.

“Thanks, Chris,” she continues, her voice still painful to my ears. “Today is anything but business as usual in sunny Southern California. It seems, folks, that the impossible has happened. Hollywood is abuzz this morning with the most infamous immaculate conception since the Virgin Mary herself.”

My eyebrows pinch together at the ridiculous drivel as I lift the spoon to my mouth. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph must be rolling over in their graves.

“Twenty-nine-year-old famed virgin sexpot, Raquel Weaver, was photographed leaving Beverly Hills Obstetrics today with a noticeable bump front and center on her normally trim figure.”

Brakes squeal to a stop inside my head.

What the fuck? Did she just say Raquel Weaver?

I gape at the television, trying to make sense of why that name of all names just came out of Screechy’s mouth, but the instant a photograph pops up on the screen and all-too-familiar violet eyes stare back at me, I have my fucking answer.

Holy shit. It’s her.


About Max Monroe

A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.

Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.

Connect with Max Monroe

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RELEASE BLITZ – LOVE BITES: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

Title: LOVE BITES: A Paranormal Romance Anthology
Authors: Autumn Archer, Belle Harper, CR Robertson, Kay Elle Parker, Nicky Fox, Rachael Tonks, Renea Porter and Kayla Jules
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: June 16, 2020

LOVE BITES: A paranormal romance anthology full of bite! 
Explore your wild side with these sizzling stories. 
A paranormal romance anthology by 8 incredible authors!
This anthology contains short stories ranging from romantic, action-packed, to HOT!
Filled with Vampires, shifters, demons, witches and more, this collection of fantasy romance stories will make you blush and have you begging for more.
Fans of dark fantasy, paranormal intrigue, and romance will devour these stories.


 


RELEASE BLITZ – Hooking Him (How to Catch an Alpha #3) by Aurora Rose Reynolds

Title: Hooking Him
Series: How to Catch an Alpha #3
Author: Aurora Rose Reynolds
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 16, 2020
Blurb
Anna McAlister needs a new life. But that doesn’t mean she needs a new man. After leaving her fiancé and Chicago behind, she promises herself no dating until she finds what she’s looking for. But meeting one seriously hot and determined detective has her questioning herself.
Calvin Miller is that detective, and he’s been burned by women in the past. It’s easy for him to sleep alone and focus on his work, but the moment he lays eyes on Anna, he starts imagining sexy nights with her wrapped in his sheets. Maybe it’s time to get back out there.
But just as the attraction between them begins to sizzle, Anna’s past shows up to create trouble. And to make matters worse, a string of murders forces Calvin to juggle his new relationship and his career. His worst fear? That the two are somehow connected.
Can they find love together, or will her past and his duty sink their hopes?
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
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Excerpt
Suggestion 1
FIRST IMPRESSIONS ARE EVERYTHING. DIDN’T YOUR MAMA TEACH YOU THAT?

ANNA

“Are you happy?” my friend Lucy asks, and I instinctively tighten my fingers around my cell phone as I put my bare feet up on the wooden rail in front of me. I’ve lived most of my life in the city, surrounded by skyscrapers and the constant sound of chatter and traffic, with air clogged with the scents of food and exhaust. Now, sitting on the back deck of my studio apartment in a small coastal town in South Carolina, with the ocean mere feet away, the sun warming my skin, and a slight breeze playing in my hair, I wonder how I survived in Chicago for so long.
“I’m getting there,” I answer, smiling as I watch a young family laughing and playing in the surf nearby.
“Even living in a small studio apartment and working at a bakery?” She sounds
skeptical, and I remind myself she just doesn’t understand. Like everyone else back in Chicago, she doesn’t get why I’d choose to go from making over $60,000 a year, living in a beautiful penthouse apartment, planning a wedding to a good man—who also happens to be gorgeous—to moving to a town where I know almost no one. Where I’m renting an apartment the size of my old bathroom and working a job that pays in a month what I used to make in a week.
“Even living in an apartment and working at the bakery,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral before adding quietly, “I do miss you, though.” It’s not a lie: Lucy has been in my life since I can remember. Our parents were friends, so we practically grew up together.
“I still don’t get it,” she says with a sigh, and my heart sinks. I keep hoping she will, but as the months pass, it’s becoming more and more clear that she won’t. None of my friends or family do. They don’t understand that I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to give everything up. Every day for years, I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror, disliking the materialistic, shallow woman I was becoming. Until one day I decided to do something about it.
“I should let you go. I’m sure you have stuff to do, and I promised Edie that I’d go with her to bingo.”
“Bingo? You’re playing bingo?” She laughs.
I can’t help the smile that tips up my lips. “Yeah, it’s actually kind of fun.”
“If you say so,” she says, sounding distracted, and then a moment later, a distinctive male voice in the background asks her something, and I know it’s Lance, my ex-fiancé, who’s a partner at her firm. “Sorry, I gotta go, Anna.”
“No problem,” I tell her, feeling nauseous. “Bye.” I hang up before she has a chance to reply and then sit forward, dropping my head into my hands as I think back to the look on Lance’s face when I gave him back his ring and told him that we were over. He didn’t say a word and walked away, looking devastated. The hardest part about leaving Chicago wasn’t the lifestyle I was giving up; it was losing him. Even though I wasn’t in love with him, he was my friend. For the five years we were in a relationship, he was a constant in my life, someone I depended on for support, and he was one of the few people who understood the dysfunctional relationship I had with my parents and encouraged me to take a step back from them when they hurt me with their carelessness.
Not wanting to spend the day dwelling on something that would leave me
depressed, I pull in a deep breath, expecting to inhale the fresh sea air, but
my nose wrinkles when the distinct scent of pot hits me. I open my eyes, get up
from my lounger, and stop midway across the deck when a big puff of smoke
floats up from the porch below. I walk quietly to the edge and look over the
rail, wondering if someone from the beach has decided to hide out and get high.
But then I shake my head when I see Dixie and Pearl, my landlady Edie’s best
friends, who are in their seventies, standing at her back door and sharing what
looks like a joint: an object that seems out of place, given their grandmotherly
appearance. Both women are dressed like they’re about to go golfing, in their
pastel polo shirts and khaki capris, all capped by white hair that’s styled,
like always, in an array of curls.
“Isn’t weed illegal?”
Both women jump, and Dixie, who’s holding the joint, tosses it away, yelling
“Oh shit!” while Pearl screams, searching until she finds me on the deck above.
“Anna!” Pearl says, glaring. “You scared the dickens out of me.”
“Dickens,” Dixie says with a giggle as the back door opens.
“What on earth is going on out here?” Edie asks, stepping outside wearing a
white linen outfit with her short hair feathered back from a gracefully aging
face.
“Anna tried to give us heart attacks,” Pearl says accusingly, pointing up at
me, and Edie tips her head back, smiling when she spots me.
Edie was the first person I met when I moved to South Carolina. She had an apartment for rent in her house, and when I answered the ad, she invited me over to view the space. I fell in love with it because it was right on the beach, but after spending an hour with her, I also wanted the apartment because it would give me an excuse to spend time with her. I didn’t understand why I was so drawn to her at first, but something about being in her presence made me feel hopeful. Then one night, over wine, she opened up about her past and told me about her ex-husband, who she was with for more than twenty years before she found the courage to leave him. And when she did, she found a way to be happy, even when he and her family were all sure she would come back with her tail tucked between her legs. I guess her story gave me the hope to fight for my own happiness.
“They’re smoking weed,” I inform her, waving my hand at both women.
“I have glaucoma.” Pearl plants her hands on her hips.
“Really?” I ask, and her eyes narrow on mine in challenge.
“It’s time for us to go anyway,” Edie announces.
“Found it!” Dixie shouts, and Pearl breaks her stare-down with me to turn to her friend, who holds up the joint like it’s a trophy.
“Anna.” My eyes move to Edie. “Meet us at the car. I want to get to the bingo hall before Carol so she doesn’t take our table.”
“That woman is annoying,” Dixie mutters.
“She’s such a show-off,” Pearl says, taking the joint from Dixie and wrapping what’s left of it in a tissue she pulls from her bra. “Who cares that you have five grandkids when they don’t even like you?”
“Right!” Dixie agrees while opening the door for Pearl to go inside before her.
“Meet us in the driveway,” Edie says, and I narrow my eyes on hers. “What?”
“I notice you’re not saying anything about them smoking pot. Did you smoke with
them?”
“Not today.” She winks, then disappears inside. I watch the door close behind her, unsure if she’s joking. She, Pearl, and Dixie might all be older than me, but you’d never know by the way they act and the things they say.
“Well, today should be interesting,” I sigh to myself before going into my apartment and shutting the door. I walk between my bed and the open kitchen to the closet and slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops before grabbing a plaid button-down shirt and tying it around my waist. I learned the first time Edie dragged me to the bingo hall that they keep the room a degree above freezing—something that wouldn’t have been bad if I hadn’t dressed for the heat and humidity outside. I stop and grab my keys, along with my purse, then lock up before taking the stairs down to the driveway, where Edie, Dixie, and Pearl are waiting.
“I can drive.” I hold up the keys to my Ford, and they all turn in my direction.
“Where’s the rest of your shorts?” Pearl asks, and I look down at my denim cutoffs, which are short but not any shorter than what girls wear nowadays. Still, they’re shorter than anything I would’ve worn a year ago.
“Oh, stop. If you had legs like hers, you’d show them off too,” Edie scolds, and I glance up, catching her shaking her head at her friend before she looks at me. “Anna, you drive like an old lady. You’re riding shotgun. Get in.” She presses a button on her keys, and the doors unlock.
“I don’t drive like an old lady,” I say to defend myself as I open the door to her red BMW convertible and pull the seat forward for Pearl and Dixie to get in the back.
“The last time I rode with you, you drove thirty in a fifty.”
“It was a construction zone. I was following the rules.”
“It was after eight at night. They weren’t even working.”
“Whatever.” I push the seat back into place and get in. I reach for my seat belt as she starts the engine and lowers the roof. As soon as the top locks into place, she backs out of the driveway, and I’m reaching out for the handle on the door when I hear her laugh.
“Relax, child. I’ve never gotten in an accident.”
“Really?” I glance at her quickly, not wanting to take my eyes off the road, even though I’m not the one driving.
“Well . . . maybe I should say I have never gotten into an accident that was my fault.”
“That sounds a little more believable,” I reply, then pull in a sharp breath as she turns onto the on-ramp for the highway and presses her foot more firmly on the gas. I hold my breath as she merges into traffic and then squeeze my eyes closed as she zooms forward to pass in front of a semi. I feel the car start to slow and open my eyes. I release the breath I’ve been holding as we take the next exit and stop at a red light. When the light turns green, my fingers tighten on the handle of the door, turning my knuckles white as she takes a right and presses the gas once more. I start to pray when she hugs the bumper of the car in front of us, and then my heart drops into my stomach when I hear the distinctive sound of police sirens.
“Oh shit,” comes from the back seat as Edie pulls over and places the car in park. I look over my shoulder and watch Pearl reach into her shirt, pull out a white tissue, and shove it under the seat in front of her.
Oh my God. “Was that your joint?” I shout, and Pearl glares at me.
“Just be cool. This isn’t a big deal.” Edie wraps her hand around my upper leg, and I focus on her and nod, not feeling cool at all. My leg starts to bounce as we wait for the officer to get out of his car, and by the time he gets to Edie’s window, it’s jumping like crazy.
“Edie.”
A deep voice greets us, and I turn my head, noticing first the long, masculine fingers wrapped around the top of the door, then dark jeans, a black belt with a badge attached, and a form-fitting blue button-down that’s tucked in, making it clear the guy is fit. I slowly lift my head as I take in his broad shoulders, and my heart starts to pound for a different reason when I reach his face. Holy wow, even with his eyes covered with a pair of silver aviators that look amazing on him, he’s still heart-stoppingly gorgeous. I stare at him, unsure if it’s his dark hair, sharp jaw, or full lips that have me entranced. All I know is it’s a good thing he has those glasses on. I don’t think I could handle seeing all of him at one time.
“Calvin, how’s your mom?” Pearl asks sweetly from the back seat, and he turns his head just slightly to look at her while I keep my eyes on him. Calvin—that name fits him. It makes me think of those old Calvin Klein ads with Marky Mark that my friends and I used to drool over.
“She’s good.”
“Tell her I say hello.”
“Will do.” He dips his chin before shifting his attention back to Edie. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“I have no idea,” Edie says. Then she asks, “Was I speeding?”
“You weren’t speeding. But I followed you onto the highway and off, and I’m a little concerned with your lack of turn signals and the way you tend to test the boundaries of your brakes when driving behind someone.”
“My car has great brakes,” she informs him with a smile.
“That might be, but I doubt you’d feel that way if the person you followed so closely had to hit their brakes and you, in turn, hit them.”
“You’re absolutely right.” She places her hand on her chest, looking surprised. “I never thought of that.”
“I’m sure.” His jaw tics, making my fingers, still on the handle, clench. “If I see you driving like that again, Edie, I’ll give you a ticket. And you and I both know you can’t have any more points on your license.”
Points? She already has points on her license?
“How many tickets have you gotten?” I blurt, and all eyes rest on me, including a pair covered with a silver tint.
“I still have my license,” Edie tells me.
“One more ticket and you won’t,” Calvin adds.
“One more ticket” meaning she’s gotten a few? “I knew I should have ignored my need to respect my elders and demanded to drive. First, Pearl and Dixie smoking a—”
“Pardon?” Calvin rumbles, cutting off the word joint, and my eyes widen. Oh crap. My mouth goes dry. I wave my hand in his direction and shake my head once more. “They were smoking a cigarette. Even at their age, they should know those things kill.” I can’t see his eyes, but I still feel them bore into mine. I shift in my seat but try to keep my expression neutral. “I’ll make sure Edie’s more careful when she’s behind the wheel.”
He acknowledges my statement with a grunt and comes out of his bent position, which forces me to tip my head back. “This is your last warning.” He taps Edie’s door before he walks back toward his car. I turn to watch him, thinking even from behind, his broad shoulders and slim waist are attractive.
“I can’t believe you were going to tell him that we were smoking a joint,” Pearl hisses.
“She didn’t and she covered for us,” Dixie mutters. “I don’t blame her for getting weird. He’s handsome, and that happens when you’re talking to a handsome man.”
“Do you think he’s handsome?” Edie asks me, and I look over at her, noting a calculating look in her eyes.
Damn.
“Of course she thinks he’s attractive. She’s female,” Pearl says from the back
seat.
“Well?” Edie asks.
“Um . . .” I shift under her stare. “He’s okay.”
“Okay?” Dixie snorts. “That man is not just okay, darling, and if you think that, you need to be checked by a doctor to confirm you actually have a pulse.”
“Whatever. Shouldn’t we go? Aren’t you the one who didn’t want to be late to bingo?”
“Fine, you win this one,” Edie says after a long moment, and then she puts the shifter in drive, flips on her turn signal, and checks her mirror. The moment she starts to pull away from the side of the road and into traffic, the car is jolted to the right, and the sounds of metal crunching and scraping fill the air.
With wide eyes and my heart pounding, I turn and meet a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes belonging to Calvin. Holy cow, we just sideswiped a cop! I drag my eyes off his and focus on Edie. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Are you?” Her eyes scan me from head to toe.
“I’m good.” I look over my shoulder and see Calvin backing up behind us, then look at the two wide-eyed women in the back seat. “Are you two all right?”
“I’m okay,” Pearl says shakily.
“Just a little shook up, but I’m okay,” Dixie replies.
“I’m going to make sure Calvin is all right.” I unhook my belt and open my door.
With my legs shaking, I walk around the back of the car, but I stop short when I see Calvin bent over and looking in the open trunk of his cruiser. Without even a glance in my direction, he booms, “Get back into the vehicle.”
“But—”
“Back in the vehicle.” He doesn’t move except to turn his head, and his eyes come to me. “It’s not safe for you to be out here.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I tell him, and he comes out of his bent position and walks toward me slowly.
I should back away. I want to back away, but I hold my ground until he reaches out and wraps his hand around my upper arm.
“What are you doing?” I look at where he’s holding me and automatically try to tug free, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he starts walking, forcing me to go with him. When we reach the passenger side of the car, he opens the door and urges me to sit.
“Stay,” he orders, and I blink up at him in disbelief.
“I’m not a dog you can just order to do something,” I hiss, tucking my feet into the car.
“Yeah, I know. My dog actually listens.” He slams the door and walks away, leaving me fuming.


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Author Bio
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her,
Underground Kings and Shooting Stars.
Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.
Author Links

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Cream-Pied – DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) #2 – by Kat Addams

Title: Cream-Pied
Series: DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) #2
Author: Kat Addams
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 16, 2020
Blurb
DTF. Support your local girl gang!Me and my dirty, tough female besties were stripping it down at The Steamy Clam!

I knew that my side hustle as a stripper would pay my bills, but who would have thought the pole life would lead to a proposal?

A fake one anyway …

Then again, I knew divine intervention when I saw it.

And that fake relationship might be the realest thing I’d ever felt.

I was minding my business, slaying my goals, living my best life with my girl gang—on my own terms. Love was the last thing on my mind. Marriage just wasn’t in the cards for me. I never considered myself wifey material.

Staying at home, baking cookies and washing laundry? Forget it!

Then, Weston, with his big heart and bushy beard, snuck his way into my feelings. His family was prim and perfect, and my edgy attitude and I were not.

He needed a fiancée to secure his place in the family business, and I needed cash to pay off my debts from a string of mooching exes.

This crazy lie was a win-win for both of us. How could I say no? 

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited



Also Available
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Free in Kindle Unlimited


Coming Soon
Releasing July 21
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Releasing August 18
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU


Author Bio
Kat Addams is a forever twenty-nine-year-old fashionista following her lifelong dream of writing contemporary romance inspired by the exotic men she meets in her worldly travels. At least, that’s what she would like for you to think. She’s certainly not a stay-at-home mom indulging in excessive daydreaming, frozen pizzas, an unhealthy addiction to purchasing pajamas, and one too many cocktails on the regular. That’s some other romance author. The poor thing probably has to sneak away upstairs to write her dirty stories! What would her family think? Thankfully, that’s not Kat!
Author Links

BOOK TOUR – Neighbors and Favors by Kate Davis

Book Tour: NEIGHBORS AND FAVORS by Kate Davis

New apartments should come with a trial period…

I’ve just signed a two-year lease on an apartment I can barely afford.
My job hit a brick wall so I need the place to be perfect to help me get my life back on track. But the first night in, and I already know my neighbor isn’t going to make it easy on me.

Tall, sexy, irresistible (and did I mention the British accent?), Shane Logan likes his nightly activities…a lot. I can hear everything through the paper-thin walls. I’m about to tell him that in not-so-friendly terms when I realize he isn’t just sexy, he’s also friendly and eager to be of help.
Maybe having a neighbor like him isn’t such a bad idea.
I’m a writer in desperate need of inspiration. Shane so happens to turn into mine. With a deadline approaching fast, his offer to do me a favor turns into two and three. Before I know it, he’s forced his way into my life with the tenacity of a whirlwind.

I can deal with the fact that he’s far too loud and far too sexy. But when my dog likes him more than me, I start to get a little suspicious. Soon it becomes clear Shane Logan has secrets.
Plunged into the suspicions surrounding my neighbor, suddenly the only thing I can be sure of is that Shane is fiercely determined to hide the truth about himself.

Remember when I said the lease should have come with a warning?
Well, mine should also have come with a big, red, flashing signal.

Author’s note – Neighbors and Favors is a full-length romantic comedy with no cliffhanger. 
PURCHASE LINKS:
AMAZON / AMAZON UK /  B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS


EXCERPT
“Well, hello, neighbor.”

I stare at the six-foot-three British guy, taking in his lopsided grin and the cleaning gloves and garbage bags in his hands. He’s wearing a white, snug T-shirt and jeans that hang low on his hips—nothing remarkable, really, but for some reason, he looks like he’s stepped straight out of a fragrance advertisement—you know, the expensive kind.
And for some reason, the realization annoys the heck out of me. No one looks so good in the middle of the night. I know I certainly don’t.
“What do you want?” I squeeze through gritted teeth. My good manners have apparently deserted me.
“Ah, now that’s neighborly friendliness if I ever saw some.” His lips stretch into a stunning smile with perfect, white teeth and two little dimples.
I suck in my breath as another wave of annoyance hits me.
Dimples.
Does he have to have a perfect pair of those?
I mean, why toss him a good thing or two from the genes pool when he can win the whole darn lottery?
I bet his personality sucks.
Apparently, Sammy doesn’t think so because she’s instantly stopped her barking and is now making those tiny wailing sounds that signal elation and are usually reserved for her best friends.
Aka me.
“Like I said, what do you want?” I really want to slam the door in the guy’s face but that goes against everything I stand for. So, I take a deep breath and begin my inner chant.
Patience. Forbearance. I treat my neighbor as I want to be treated.
“Anyone ever told you not to open the door to strangers when they come knocking in the middle of the night?” The guy’s grin widens.


AUTHOR INFO

Kate Davis is a real-life coffee lover with her very own Pomeranian who was her biggest inspiration for this book. Yes, Sammy is real and her favorite command is “cheese.” In fact, it might just be the only command she obeys. Kate loves to play matchmaker, transporting readers to a place where her bold heroines have endearing flaws, the men are fierce and protective, the world isn’t always a safe place, and chivalry is alive and thriving! You can visit both Kate and Sammy online at katedavisauthor.blogspot.com or connect with her on Facebook. 
Stay in touch. She loves to hear from her readers! 

Sign up to Kate’s newsletter for more info on her next release here
CONTACT KATE:


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PRE-ORDER BLITZ – Coasting by Elise Faber

Calle Stevens wasn’t what one would call a risk-taker. She was steady. She was even. She was . . .Pregnant. Oh God.

Coasting by Elise Faber releases on June 15th!

Amazon — https://amzn.to/3cLR7o7
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Calle Stevens wasn’t what one would call a risk-taker.

She was steady. She was even. She was . . .

Pregnant.

Oh God. How was she pregnant? Well, she knew the how part, but that wasn’t the point. Mistakes happened, condoms failed, birth control pills didn’t work, and . . . she was pregnant by a man who’d broken up with her via text and then readily offered to sign away his parental rights when she’d told him she was keeping the baby.

Her life was ruined.

She’d just been hired as an assistant coach for the professional hockey team, the San Francisco Gold. She didn’t have any family in the area, didn’t have a partner. How was she going to have a baby?

But then Cooper.

A star player for the team, he’d found out about the baby and had insisted on coming with her to her first appointment, then had held her hair back when she’d spent the majority of her time christening the porcelain goddess before coming to the second, and then the third, and the fourth and—

In fact, as much as she tried to push him away, he refused to keep his distance. And then when she was having a particularly weak moment, feeling fat and gross and completely unappealing, he held her like she was precious and . . . he kissed her.

Then didn’t stop.

Calle didn’t know what was scarier, the kiss or that she didn’t want him to stop either.



About the Author:

USA Today bestselling author, Elise Faber, loves chocolate, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team — the Sharks! — are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise is the mom to two exuberant boys and lives in Northern California. Connect with her in her Facebook group, the Fabinators or find more information about her books at http://www.elisefaber.com.

Connect with Elise!

Website: https://www.elisefaber.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elisefaberauthor/
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Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bdnmEj
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2Ilspyd


BLOG TOUR – Small Town, Big Secrets by Elsie Davis

SMALL TOWN, BIG SECRETS

By Elsie Davis

Publication Date: June 8, 2020
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Bliss, Contemporary, Romance, Fake Relationship, Marriage of Convenience

SYNOPSIS:

To save her son, shy but determined waitress Becky McAllister would do just about anything. But she never expected “anything” to include the brother of the man who broke her heart.

Steve Parker needs a wife, now, if he has any hopes of winning his local DA election and becoming the advocate for the underserved he’s always dreamed of being. The sweet waitress seems like just the person—if he can get her to agree.

One year of marriage—no strings, no personal attachments. Becky gets the insurance funds she needs for her son’s surgery while Steve’s poll ratings soar. Neither planned on a commitment in their future, so they should have no problem making it through the year without getting emotionally involved, right?

Except Becky’s holding on to a secret from her past—one that would change everything.



EXCERPT

His phone rang, and Steve jumped to answer it, thinking—hoping—it was Becky. But Jerry Anderson’s name lit up the screen. The president of the Cattlemen’s Association must have something important to discuss, because the meeting for tomorrow night had already been arranged. “Hey, Jerry.”

“Hey. I heard you’re in town already. Meeting’s not till tomorrow night.” The man was direct and to the point, a quality Steve admired.

“I know. I’ve been asked to check into some things by the lead investigator. Remember, though, I’ll get more helpful information if nobody knows that I’m working with you.”

“I understand. And I’m grateful you’re trying to help. I know the position this put you in, but we need you.” Going up against my father? Yeah, it was definitely a position, but Jerry was wrong thinking Steve didn’t welcome it—he did. The chance to put his father in his place, more than worth it.

“So, what’s going on?” Steve asked, curious what prompted the call.

“The rumors about the McDougall ranch are no longer rumors. Alfred got his final eviction notice. He’s got thirty days to make the payment to catch up his loan or they’re seizing the property.”

Unbelievable. “I wish there was something I could do, but four weeks just isn’t much time.”

“I get it. Just thought you should know.” Jerry sounded frustrated, and rightfully so.

“Thanks for the heads up. I need to find out who’s backing the savings-and-loan. There’s got to be a connection we’re missing.” Follow the money was a good motto when it came to dirty dealings.

“Well, until we figure it out, this is just going to keep happening.”

“I hear you.” Steve ended the call and let out a deep sigh just as a text came through.

Harry: Poll numbers just updated, and you slipped another two points.

Steve cringed. His dream had been to advocate for those who needed a voice and now his best shot at it was fading away.

Marriage. An arranged marriage. Jen’s friend. Make it worth her while.

Becky’s face came to mind. He needed to get married to have any shot at winning the D.A.’s seat and she needed the insurance coverage for her son’s surgery. Mutually beneficial.

A temporary wife.

“Temporary” had a beautiful ring to it, enough to be willing to put a ring on her finger and make sure they had an exit plan in place. It was the perfect solution. Becky was easy on the eyes and had a gentle spirit; how hard could it be to live with her and her son for a short time?

The more he thought about it, the better he liked the sound of it. But getting Becky to agree had one big problem—she wasn’t even talking to him right now.

And the clock was ticking. He wouldn’t be in town for long and waiting for Becky to come around and talk to him wasn’t going to work. Left with no choice, he knew what he had to do. A couple of phone calls was all it took before he had her address.

At her place, they could talk privately. And with any luck, he’d get to meet Byron and see the boy who was possibly his nephew for himself.


BLP REVIEW – Tracy

***


ABOUT the AUTHOR

Elsie Davis discovered the world of Happily-Ever-After romance at the age of twelve when she began avidly reading Barbara Cartland, the Queen of Romance, and has been hooked ever since. After building her dream log home on top of a small mountain, she turned her attention to do what she loves most, writing. An award-winning author and active member of RWA, she writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She writes from her heart, hoping to share a little love in a big world. She will never forget the moment of exhilaration when she first got the email offering her a contract for publication. A moment that has repeated itself, and one that keeps her energized and moving forward.

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Goodreads | Twitter | Bookbub | Amazon | Entangled Publishing



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BLOG TOUR – The Graveyard Shift (A Charley Davidson Novella) by Darynda Jones

The Graveyard Shift, an all-new, incredible, out of this world novella in the award winning paranormal Charley Davidson Series by New York Times bestselling author Darynda Jones, is available now!

9_1001_2020_Darynda Jones_300dpi_new (1)

Guarding a precocious five-year-old who is half-human, half-god, and 100% destined to save the world is no easy feat.

Garrett Swopes was the ultimate skeptic until he met a certain hellion and her husband. They vanished after stopping a catastrophic event and left him, a mere mortal, in charge of protecting their gift to mankind. But when she disappears as well, he needs the help of another breed of hellion. One who can see past the veil of space and time. One who betrayed him.

She will get a truce in the deal, but she will never earn his forgiveness.

Marika Dubois’s son—a warrior in the coming war between heaven and hell—was foreseen long before his birth. But to create a child strong enough to endure the trials that lay ahead, she needed a descendant of powerful magics. She found that in Garrett Swopes and tricked him into fathering her son. A ploy he has never forgiven her for. But when he knocks on her door asking for her help, she sees the fierce attraction he tries to deny rise within him.

And Marika has to decide if she dares risk her heart a second time to help the only man she’s ever loved.

** Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**


The Graveyard Shift ipad available now

Download your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2YPMogG
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/graveshift
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3bhLigh

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3fyb3wy


Excerpt

Charley Davidson, a god with a penchant for maiming first and asking questions later, was going to kill Garrett. No, that wasn’t right. Charley’s husband, Reyes Farrow, also a god with a penchant for maiming first and asking questions later, would start the whole process by ripping him to shreds, then letting Charley finish him off. Gladly. And with much glee.

Garrett had one job. One. Fucking. Job. Watch his best friends’ daughter, Beep, aka Elwyn Alexandra Loehr, a kid who just happened to be destined to save the world from a catastrophic demon uprising. He was supposed to guard her with his life. To keep her safe. To protect her from all the ghosts and goblins—metaphorically speaking since he didn’t have a supernatural bone in his body—hell-bent on doing her harm before she could prevent said catastrophic demon uprising.

He failed.

Yesterday, at exactly 3:33 p.m., the precocious five-year-old was running across a sun-drenched field of sagebrush and wild grasses when she disappeared right before his eyes. One second she was tripping over, well, absolutely nothing—so much like her mother, it startled him—and the next, she was gone.

If he hadn’t been looking right at her, if his gaze hadn’t been laser-locked on the long, dark tangles cascading down her back, if she hadn’t disappeared between his strategically placed blinks, he would’ve questioned the entire event. But there was simply no doubt about it. She’d vanished into thin air.

The way she disappeared would suggest a supernatural influence, especially considering the fact that she was the daughter of two gods, but her celestial parents had placed a shield over the entire area. No supernatural entity could penetrate it. Was there some loophole they’d missed? Some escape clause they’d overlooked?

Garrett didn’t hesitate. He immediately called in his entire team, but even his most preternaturally enhanced members couldn’t figure out what had happened, and one of them was a bona fide angel. Well, former angel.

After thirty-six hours of scouring every inch of Santa Fe and the surrounding area for even a sign of the little hellion, a storm had rolled in, and the search had to be abandoned. Garrett left his team at the compound, as well as the Loehrs, Elwyn’s grandparents, panicked and scrambling to figure out what’d happened. In the meantime, he went in search of the only woman he knew who could see past the veil of not only space, but time as well.

He had one clue to go on. Elwyn’s last words before she took off across the rugged New Mexican terrain.

Surely, he’d heard her wrong. He prayed he’d heard her wrong as he fought the winds and icy pelts of the desert storm, then raised a fist and pounded on the door of his ex, Marika Dubois.


About the Author

DJones1


NYTimes and USA Today Bestselling Author Darynda Jones has won numerous awards for her work, including a prestigious RITA, a Golden Heart, and a Daphne du Maurier, and her books have been translated into 17 languages. As a born storyteller, Darynda grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, and she is ever so grateful for the opportunity to carry on that legacy. She currently has two series with St. Martin’s Press: The Charley Davidson Series and the Darklight Trilogy. She lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.

Connect with Darynda

Facebook: https://bit.ly/3ePZwY2
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Instagram: https://bit.ly/2Y050sk
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Website: https://darynda.com/


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RECENT RELEASE – Good Times by Jiffy Kate

Release Date: May 28
Finley Lawson and Georgette Taylor have been best friends since high school. Even though they’re from opposite sides of the tracks, they found common ground in their mutual love of the arts and the desire to prove themselves.

They were everything to one other, including being each other’s firsts. 
Finley assumed they’d be together forever. 
Georgette had other plans.
Fast forward five years, Finn and Jette have both moved to New Orleans, unbeknownst to each other, still trying to find their place in the world. They’re going to pick back up right where they left off, right? Well, it’s not that easy. 
Finley has questions, as well as, some pent-up anger and resentment from Jette ghosting him five years ago.
And Georgette has a boyfriend. 

What hasn’t changed is their deep connection and understanding of each other. Friends are what they agree to be, but some romances deserve a second chance and fate might have other plans.  


Grab Your Copy Here: 

𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘄 – https://amzn.to/2YkWHHZ⁣

*𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗶𝗻 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱*



Meet the Jiffy Kate

Jiffy Kate is the joint pen name for Jiff Simpson and Jenny Kate Altman. They’re co-writing besties who share a brain. They also share a love of cute boys, stiff drinks, and fun times. 
Together, they’ve written over twenty stories. Their first published book, Finding Focus, was released in November 2015. Since then, they’ve continued to write what they know–southern settings full of swoony heroes and strong heroines. 

Connect with Jiffy Kate
You can find them on most social media outlets at @jiffykate, @jiffykatewrites, or @jiffsimpson and @jennykate77.
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NEW RELEASE – THE FIRST SCORE by Amie Knight

The First Score FOR WEB

There was something about that first score, and not just on the football field.

The First Score, an all-new, best friend’s brother romance from Amie Knight is available now!

Blurb

I loved all of life’s firsts, which was why I’d been saving mine for one girl, my older sister’s best friend—Hazel Jones.

She was tough and sarcastic with walls around her heart as tall as a football stadium, but I knew she was the one for me.

Desperate times called for desperate measures and I’d have done anything to make her mine.

Like create a fake online persona.

Lie about my age.

Pretend I wasn’t some naive virgin.

And catfish the hell out of the love of my life.


TFS - AN

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3gq6EvW

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/firstscoreak

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/36wB4Ib

Add THE FIRST SCORE to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2RnBA5y


6v2


Excerpt

“Thanks so much for taking her home, Hazel.” Ollie nudged me to get my attention and I turned to look at him, not having much choice in the matter now. I couldn’t be rude. It was a mistake. The green of his eyes was deeper today, less brown. I knew it was the jersey. It was always that way. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face and he ran a hand through his hair like he always did. I knew it was a habit of his, just like I knew so many other things about him.

“You owe me.” I tried lightening the mood like I had with Scarlett. I nudged his shoulder but only came into contact with a pad.

Dragging his bottom lip into his mouth, he raked his teeth over the fullness and his eyes heated. He leaned his face close to mine. “You name it and it’s yours, brat.”

My face flamed and my mouth watered. Lord, he was a terrible flirt and by terrible I meant amazing. I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and stepped back.

“Cut it out, Olls. Quit giving her a hard time. She came all this way so your ass would have a way home tonight.” Scarlett attempted to save me.

He eyed me. “Oh, I haven’t even started giving her a hard time yet,” he said before walking backward down the stadium steps, hot eyes still on me. I was thanking whatever gods were listening that he was walking backward. Please, God. Spare me that ass. I couldn’t handle it after his damn lip trick.

“You’re shameless, Oliver Knox,” Scarlett called down to him.

She wasn’t wrong. Oliver flirted with all the women. I never could tell if he had a preference for a certain kind of girl. If it walked and had tits and a vagina, he flirted.

“Bye, ladies,” Oliver said loudly and jangled Scarlett’s keys over his head before doing the most awful thing in the world to me—he spun around and gave me his ass. And God, was it a marvelous ass. Immediately my eyes ate it up. Was there anything better than a hot ass in some football pants? It was round and firm and high and I bet I could have bounced fifty quarters off of it. But I didn’t have any change. Damn. That was just my luck.

I was being mesmerized by the twin all white globes when they stopped just barely and my eyes diverted up to see Oliver looking over his shoulder and smiling. Damn him. He gave me a slow wink before continuing down the steps at a trot.

The tease. The bastard. He knew how good-looking he was. It didn’t matter a bit that he was my best friend’s brother or that he was a year and a half younger than me. Oliver Winston Knox was fine on a regular day, but in a football uniform he was the stuff dreams were made of. My dreams to be exact.


About the Author

AmieKnight

Amie Knight has been a reader for as long as she could remember and a romance lover since she could get her hands on her momma’s books. A dedicated wife and mother with a love of music and makeup, she won’t ever be seen leaving the house without her eyebrows and eyelashes done just right. When she isn’t reading and writing, you can catch her jamming out in the car with her two kids to ’90s R&B, country, and showtunes. Amie draws inspiration from her childhood in Columbia, South Carolina, and can’t imagine living anywhere other than the South.

Connect with Amie

Facebook: https://bit.ly/2UtTe85

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Instagram: https://bit.ly/3aekE8H

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Website: https://www.authoramieknight.com


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