Archive | May, 2016

~ Lethal Temptations ( Tempted #5) by Janine Infante Bosco Book Blitz + Giveaway ~

24 May

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Lethal Temptations
by Janine Infante Bosco
Tempted, #5
Publication Date: May 24, 2016
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance, MC Romance

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Synopsis

BLACKIE
My name is Blackie, I’m the vice president of the Satan’s Knights MC and I’m an addict.
I’ve been trading one addiction for another for as long as I can remember.
I make no apologies for my addictions, nor do I try to hide them.
Until my latest addiction threatens to destroy not just me but her.
For the first time I want to fight the need and not gravitate towards it. I try to deny it and not succumb to it but I’m a prisoner to her purity.
I’m Satan’s soldier, a demon dressed in leather.
She’s an angel, innocent and full of light, she’s my lace.
Leather.
Lace.
Me.
Her.
A temptation so lethal neither of us may survive but, every demon craves an angel.
Guide me to the light.
Take me from the dark.
Give me back my life.
Let me share yours.
They are the selfish words of an addict and they are my truth.

LACEY PARRISH
My name is Lacey Parrish and I have a secret, one I’ve tried to deny for a long time, one I’ve tried to spare the world from.
I am a manic-depressive.
Just like my dad.
Some days I’m high on life.
Most days I try to escape it.
People think they know me, they think they see me but the truth is no one knows who I really am. No one sees the real me… a broken girl with a mind that betrays her.
Except Blackie.
He’s my savior, the man who silences my maker.
He’s my knight in shining armor, the man who puts my life before his.
He’s my leather and I’m his lace.
Two broken souls that have the power to heal one another.
This is our story, an unapologetic tale full of temptations.
A love story called Leather and Lace.

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Excerpt

I stopped off at a bodega on a corner and bought three colorful bouquets of flowers, dropped them in my saddlebags and took off to Fort Hamilton. I dreaded seeing the dead flowers at Christine’s grave and prepared myself for the guilt that would surface when I saw her name carved into the tombstone.

I parked my bike off to the side and killed the engine, grabbing the flowers as I climbed the hill.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw next.

Nothing.

I blinked to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating but as I approached Christine’s grave there was no denying the beauty kneeling before the tombstone was real.

Live and in the flesh.

My beautiful Lace knelt before my wife’s grave, re-arranging a fresh bouquet.

My past met my present and for a second I wished for a future.

Beside her laid a wilted bouquet of flowers, one I hadn’t brought there either.

“Hi, it’s me again,” Lacey said, as she leaned back tucking her haunches beneath her ass. “He’ll be back soon,” she promised before her voice trailed off and the only sound became the wind blowing through the trees. “I remember you,” she said finally. “Not much, but I remember you. I was just a kid when you first came around with Blackie and well, I sort of hated you. No, that sounds horrible,” she amended. “I was envious of you. That doesn’t sound much better but it’s true. I remember thinking you were pretty but then I saw him look at you and knew that wasn’t the right word to describe you. In a world full of ugly you were his beautiful. You and Blackie, it’s like you were the definition behind that saying beauty is in the eyes of the beholder because as pretty as everyone thought you were, they knew true beauty when they looked at him and watched him stare at you. You were the beautiful reflection in his eyes…the woman who made him smile. Even now that you’re gone I still envy you but I’m not sure what it is I wish for more…. for him to look at me like he used to look at you or for me to be the one that brings back that smile.”

I had no words.

None.

She was sitting here talking to my wife, confessing her feelings for me, and I stood there invading her privacy. I should’ve made my presence known, but I remained perfectly still as my heart broke for the woman I lost and began to mend because of the girl who brought her flowers.

She blew out a breath and slowly stood up, brushing dirt from her legs.

“Anyway, I’m going to get going but before I do, since this will be my last visit, I wanted to ask a favor. I’m not real religious and I know I’m probably just sitting here talking to a stone but just in case the afterlife really exists, can you look out for him? I mean I know you do already. Of course you do, you’re his wife…but still, he needs an angel to watch over him,” she whispered. “Who better than you?”

You.

She turned around, and I silently thanked God for the sunglasses that shielded my eyes as I stared at her. Her cheeks turned red as I extended my free hand and took hers.

“How long have you been standing there?” She asked, glancing down at our joined hands.

“Long enough,” I said huskily, pulling her closer. “Lace.”

I glanced down at the flowers she had brought and then lifted my eyes back to hers.

“You brought her flowers,” I stated.

“I can explain,” she started.

“Just today?”

“No, since you’ve been in the hospital,” she explained. “I haven’t missed a Saturday,” she whispered.

I released her hand as I stared back at her for a moment then placed the flowers I was holding on top of the headstone. I ran my fingers through my hair as I paced the small area in front of Christine’s grave.

“Blackie— “

I turned to her.

“How’d you know?”

“About a year ago, me and my dad came to visit my brother’s grave, and we saw your bike. He told me you come here every Saturday and bring her flowers,” she swallowed. “I just figured— “

“Thank you,” I cut her off, closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her, bringing her against my chest I bent my head, pressing my lips to her head. “Thank you,” I repeated, murmuring the words into her hair.

“You’re welcome,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my waist.

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Abou the author

Janine Infante Bosco

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

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~ Paradise Found: Cain by LB Dunbar Excerpt Reveal ~

23 May

CAIN-EXCERPTREVEAL-BANNER

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Synopsis

“I hate that I love you,” she said. “You left me.”

“I lost you, there’s a difference. Now that I found you, I intend to keep you.”

Lost.

I’d tasted the sweetest fruit of temptation, and I wanted another bite. I had promised myself before, but once wasn’t enough. The savory flavor of her lingered long after I’d lost her. Contending with the pressure to return to the fight, in order to prove myself to my father and the world, I had to let her go.

Found.

It has been a year. Sofie Vincentia and I had played a dangerous game. For one night, we pretended, only to discover our farce was real. I’d lost her, but I hadn’t stopped searching, hoping for her return. I was used to getting what I wanted, so when she didn’t come to me, I had to go after her. This would be the greatest fight of my life.

THIS IS A STANDALONE.

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Excerpt

Post – Fight

Cain

The sound of her heels, retreating from me, echoed down the hallway in the opposite direction of the gathered crowd. I was still dressed for the fight. I’d rubbed a towel down my body, as I didn’t care to change or shower yet. I needed to get to her before she escaped me again. Following behind the click of her heels, I called her name a second time, commanding her to stop. She didn’t listen. For the slightest second, it sounded like the tapping on the tile increased. I sped up my pace, determined to catch her.

“Sofie,” I called out. The tension built. She was going to run. My hand reached out for her, as I drew closer. My stride lengthened. Her tight skirt curved over her hips, holding her snug ass, and trapping her steps. High heels prevented her from moving any faster, despite her determined hustle. This wasn’t how I remembered her dressing. She wore loose skirts and fitted t-shirts, except on the second night. An image of a black dress being removed from delicate shoulders flitted through my memory. My eyes fell to her ass again, recalling what was under that shapely skirt. I’d seen it, felt it, tasted it, and I wanted it again.

“Sofie,” I demanded. Her name was more than a plea; it was a command to stop. We were headed in a circle. The sound of the gathered crowd was echoing back toward us. She was trapped. If she kept going, she’d lead us directly into the paparazzi pit. Cameras would capture her and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to explain who she was to the public. Not yet. I needed a private reunion first.

Her pace slowed. My outstretched fingers captured her upper arm and tugged her to a halt. Her body was gently slammed against the cement block wall behind her, and my arms caged her in.

“Sofie.” My breath caught as I scanned her face. Bright blue eyes under a pinched brow looked briefly at me, then avoided my gaze. Her face was flushed. I remembered that pink skin. Another vision flashed in my memory of her questioning me over a wooden wine bar. She was interested in my anatomy at that moment. I wanted her to be interested in my anatomy again. A certain part of me definitely had her attention, if she wished for it. I wasn’t only hard; I was towering straight out for her. My dick knew what it wanted. It was drawn to the lyrical whispers of what I assumed would be wet folds beneath black panties.

Another vision flashed through my mind. This included stripping her of black lingerie: simple, satin, and molded to the shape of her. I’d never seen anything so tempting, until she was removed of it. White skin, pink nipples, and a dark mound pointing to a treasure were the most beautiful colors I’d ever seen, next to her eyes, which were glaring at me as I assessed her face.

“Cain,” she said sharply. Her head lifted, holding it high; she was pissed. There was no other way to describe her expression. She hated me. I couldn’t exactly blame her, but it wasn’t the reunion I anticipated. It wasn’t the reunion I expected. It wasn’t the reunion I was going to accept.

“My sweet temptation,” I hissed to her. My tongue licked my lips, eager to taste hers. She swallowed, and my eyes widened at the smooth roll of her skin against her throat. My hand slipped up to her shoulder and my pelvis fell forward, instinct drawing my dick to her. I flinched uncontrollably as it hit her lower abdomen. It craved some place lower on her body.

She didn’t push me away. In fact, her hands were splayed against the cool cement behind her. Her eyes shone bright beyond those tempting red glasses, and bright red lips matched, sucking in air at the invasion of my body against hers. I wanted those lips to suck somewhere else. She’d done it before. I knew how sweet she could be, but her eyes were harder now. Those lips wanted nothing to do with any part of my body.

My hand continued to travel up the tender skin of her throat, and she swallowed hard again, trembling beneath my touch. She wasn’t repulsed by me, but she was frightened. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, but she needed to be concerned. If my father found her, there would be trouble like she’d never known before. Her sweetness did not understand the depths of evil associated with me.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled.

On second thought, perhaps she did.

My hand slipped into her chestnut locks and tugged gently, but enough to remind her that I was a strong man. I wouldn’t hurt her. In fact, I was certain I hadn’t hurt her in the past. I was the one that suffered.

“One night, you longed for my touch,” I whispered harshly, drawing my mouth closer to hers. “In fact, I remember someone sweetly asking for it.”

My hands slithered in opposite directions. One surveyed the hilly swells of side breast while the other travelled the valley of her abdomen until it rose over curvy hips. I gripped a fist full of material and tugged it upward, jostling her body with the rough hitch of her skirt.

“If I remember correctly, you wanted me,” I purred against her moist skin. Her fear produced a sheen of sweat that covered her face. My nose dragged along her jaw, then dipped down her neck. Holding herself still, her hands remained flat against the wall to her sides. My hips pinned her in place as the skirt rose.

My fingers graced the soft skin of her thigh. She flinched and I pressed firmly forward. There was no doubt of my excitement. Dressed only in my fighting shorts, my bare chest brushed close to her generous breasts, which had been covered with my hands and mouth in the past. I wanted to reenact those memories, but my fingers had other intentions. In a jagged drag of skin against skin, I gripped her thigh, climbing upward, heading for the fruit of my desire.

“Do you still want me?” I whispered into her neck. “Do you remember?” I groaned as a thick digit delved through the warm moisture of folded skin, ripe for what I intended. I wanted inside her. Damp with desire, I slipped aggressively into her. I demanded she remember as I added a second finger. Her breath hitched as she moaned and heavy lids closed.

“Look at me,” I commanded. My forehead almost rested on hers, but I held back enough to stare into her eyes. I wanted her to see me, remember me, remember what I’d done to her. How she felt under me, wrapped within her. I grunted as my dick flinched, my skin too tight. This temptress had to recall what she had done to me, as well. I was going to come undone being this close to her, and yet she was so far away.

Blue eyes pierced mine, but they still contained a softness within them. I didn’t want to believe my sweet temptation could rot. She was spoiled by me, but she wasn’t ruined. She was stronger than that.

“Do you remember?” My fingers increased their exploration. It was a renewed excavation. They rediscovered what they missed. Sliding in and out, she joined my pace. Her hips moved slowly, then increased, matching the beat inside her.

“That’s it, my sweet.” I pulled back to watch her lids droop, then fight to open wide. “Good girl,” I rasped, as I brushed back a stray hair but didn’t falter in my rhythm between her legs. Her hands released from the wall. Palms flattened against my shoulders then wrapped around them as best they could. She had delicate hands. Tender and gentle. They had teased as she had tugged me and stroked me the first time. I jolted and my hips pressed toward her, but my hand was the focus. Her fingers dug into bare skin covered in tattoos of the snake I was. Sharp, blunt nails soon pinched into me as her hips rolled and her luscious center rocked.

“I want you to remember,” I commanded. “Remember where I’ve been. Who I am.” My fingers took on a life of their own, and they worked hard, digging deeper into the tender cavern of warmth, wet and ready for me. My thumb flicked over the sensitive pearl outside of her. Her breath hitched. Nails gripped into hard skin. She didn’t have claws, not my girl, but she was latching onto me. That’s exactly what I wanted.

“Tell me you didn’t forget,” I whispered, my voice dropping as my pace continued. She didn’t answer me and I stopped. The blue rivers turned to ice as she glared at me. I was the devil. And I would break this reunion, if she didn’t play my game.

She shook her head, refusing to speak. I pulled out of her quickly, feeling the release of her juices as they slid down her leg. Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Then she said my name. It was hardly more than a squeak, a meek plea, an unanswered question. Her nails slowly released me. Fingers peeled upward from my skin. I was going to lose her.

Fingers slammed into her and her head gently fell back. She sucked in a harsh breath, as I demanded her recollection without words. I wanted her to relive the memory of what I had done to her. Only me.

I worked fast and her fingers lay back against my warm skin. Nails made tender impressions on my shoulder. She could mark me. I wouldn’t care. She’d already scarred my heart.

“Cain?” she questioned, but I knew the answer. She was ready to burst. Her tender fruit had been plucked and she craved what came next. That first bite. The sound of my name almost undid me, but it would take more than that for me to be satisfied. For her, the flick of my thumb unleashed her. Nails burrowed deep, her eyes shuddered closed, and her head tipped back. She clenched hard, squeezing my hand between her thighs. My dick practically danced, but I had been the king of denial. I would not have her yet. This was only a reminder.

As my attention slowed, and I spread fingers through folds so wet they wept, my forehead came to hers.

“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. My heart fell to my stomach as I held my breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

I pulled back in surprise, my eyes widened. My expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.

“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting her eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my retreating hand. She pushed the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.

“I’ll never forget…that you’re an asshole.” Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me. What I’d done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an asshole.

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Abel is now available!

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Abou the author

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I’d love to say I’ve written for 10,000 hours, and that makes me a pro. But I can’t say that. What I can say is I had a story in my head that wouldn’t go away. I thought typing it in my computer would be the end of things, but it only led to another story and another. I love reading, so characters in my head isn’t something new. What is new is my creation of them. Hope you enjoy my favorites as much as I do. Happy reading!

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~ Weightless by Kandi Steiner Cover Reveal ~

23 May
Title: Weightless
Author: Kandi Steiner
Genre: New Adult Romance
Release Date: June 16, 2016
Add to Goodreads
 
Synopsis
I remember the lights.
 
I remember I wanted to photograph them, the way the red and blue splashed across his cold, emotionless face. But I knew even if my feet could move from the place where they had cemented themselves to the ground and I could run for my camera, I wouldn’t be able to capture that moment.
 
I had trusted him, I had loved him, and even though my body had changed that summer, he’d made sure to help me hold onto who I was inside, regardless of how the exterior altered.
 
But then everything changed.
 
He stole my innocence. He scarred my heart. He took everything I thought I knew about my life and fast-pitched it out the window, shattering the glass that held my world together in the process.
 
I remember the lights.
 
The passionate, desperate, hot strikes of red. The harsh, cruel, icy bolts of blue.
 
They symbolized everything I endured that summer.
 
And everything I would never face again.
 
Excerpt
Rhodes ran a hand through his still-damp hair as he watched me look around. “You want something to drink?”
 
My eyes found his but dropped a little to note the way his shirt was still sticking to his abdomen. “Just water is fine.”
 
He nodded, stepping into the kitchen long enough to grab a glass and fill it with ice and water from the fridge. Setting it down on the counter in front of me, he lifted a thumb and pointed to the room down the hall behind him. “I just need to shower real quick. You can too, if you want.”
 
I swallowed hard, my eyes practically bulging from my head. And for the first time — Rhodes laughed.
 
Well, he chuckled.
 
“I meant when I’m done, Natalie.”
 
“I know,” I said quickly. I totally didn’t know. “I will. When you’re done. I have extra clothes.” Why did I say that?
 
He quirked a brow. “Guess I won’t be seeing you naked tonight, then.” I thought he was joking, but couldn’t be sure because he left it at that without so much as another smile before turning and disappearing down the hall.
 
I quickly guzzled down the glass of water he’d given me and refilled it. I needed to cool down. Way down.
Abou the author
Kandi Steiner is a Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University of Central Florida living in Tampa with her husband. Kandi works full time as a social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor and blackjack dealer. 
Kandi started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).
When Kandi isn’t working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not necessarily in that order. 
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~ Crave Me (The Good Ol’ Boys) by M. Robinson Blog Tour + Giveaway ~

20 May
 
 
 
BLOG TOUR
CRAVE ME
BESTSELLING AUTHOR M.
ROBINSON
COVER MODEL MITCH
MCKERSIE
COVER DESIGN THE
FINAL WRAP
RELEASE MAY 10TH

 

Synopsis
They say in order to find yourself you have to go home.
What if home was what you’re running from?
Where did that leave you?
Always on the other side of the fence.
Always looking in.
Always wishing you were someone you couldn’t be.
Until one day you meet her.
The one.
She was my high, but she was also…
 
My demise.

 

Excerpt
 
Colors
blended together making it hard to focus on one thing. I blinked a few times
and just like that…
I
saw her face.
As
if she was standing right in front of me.
Smiling.
Happy.
Laughing.
My
whole world…
My
girl.
I
felt my lips curl up slightly at the vision as I reached out for her. Wanting
to touch her, needing to hold her, yearning to kiss her. Craving, God, craving
to fucking love her.
“I’m
sorry,” I murmured out loud to no one but the illusion of my drug-infested
mind. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I repeated repentantly, longing for her to
believe me.
Aching
for her to love me again like she used to.
I
don’t know how long I sat there, staring at her beautiful face before my eyes,
subconsciously rubbing the tattooed key that was placed over my heart. I
couldn’t take it anymore, and the desire won over the haze.
It
was too powerful.
It
was too vivid.
I
grabbed my phone. “Baby,” I said into the speaker. The ringing quickly
followed, going straight to voicemail. I hung up and tried again. “Baby,” I
urged with desperation in my tone.
Still
nothing.
I
tried again and again and again.
I
would try until the end of time if that’s what it took for her to answer.
To
talk to me.
To
save me.
To
crave me.
Time
just seemed to standstill, as my life slowly played out in front of me. Trying
to balance in between the light and the darkness when all I could see was gray.
“What?!”
she screamed into the phone, finally answering after I don’t know how many
failed attempts. “What the hell do you want now?”
“Mi
cielo.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
She
ignored my term of endearment. I hadn’t called her that in such a long time.
My
heaven.
“What
do you want, Austin? Why are you calling me? We’re over! I can’t do this
anymore!”  
I shut
my eyes and let my mind wonder, allowing it to go to another place in time
where she didn’t hate me.
“I
remember the first time I made you smile,” I chuckled, as if it had just
happened.
My
nerves were on fire. The mere sound of her breathing through the phone was too
intense for me. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I
remember when you used to smile just for me. Do you remember, baby? Do you
remember what my love feels like?”
I
heard her faintly breathing.
“Do
you remember my hands on you? My lips? My tongue? The first time I made you
come with my mouth? Do you remember all the times since? Tell me I’m not
forgotten. Tell me you remember, baby.”
Silence.
“I
love you, Briggs. I love you so fucking much. You’re killing me, don’t you see
that? I’m dying without you.”
“No,
Austin. You were dying with me,” she rasped, knowing that it killed her to say
that.
“The
first time I saw your face, I thought to myself, damn, this beautiful girl is
goin’ to be the death of me. You were perfect in every way. I was a cocky son
of a bitch who needed you then, as much as I need you now.” 
More
silence.
“I
had a dream about you, baby. I always fucking dream about you. In my dream you
had a ring on your finger. A ring I put there. You belonged to me. Only mine.
Forever fucking mine. You were pregnant, Briggs. You looked so goddamn happy. I
saw light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in years.”
She
sniffled into the phone.
“I
made love to you. Slow, just the way you love. Taking my time to touch every
last inch of your body. Memorizing every last bit of you. Making you come until
you begged me to stop. I didn’t.”
“I
can’t—” she tried to interject, but I didn’t let up.
“I
kissed your stomach. Our baby. Letting my lips linger there, whispering sweet
lullabies, letting her know daddy will always be there. Baby, it was so real.
For a second I gave you the one thing you so desperately wanted, the one thing
I can’t give you.”


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Abou the author
USA TODAY Bestselling author of The
VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, Two Sides Gianna, and The Good Ol’ Boys series. M.
Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles,
cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters
Club and R.L. Stein. She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She
is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German
Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.
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~ 1986 by Morgan Parker Cover Reveal + Giveaway ~

20 May

1986 banner

Title: 1986

Author: Morgan Parker

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: June 13th

Cover Design: Hang Le

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Synopsis

Allana Harrison wanted out. She wanted to escape her painful, broken past and enjoy a fresh start somewhere else. Anywhere else. And while all of the boys in high school and college promised to deliver that dream, only one man actually pulled through.
 
Now a young adult, Allana finds herself on the opposite side of the world, in a prosperous and rich town that’s not only isolated from her past, but from the crime, grime and hustle of bigger cities, in a country where she doesn’t understand the language or know anybody else except her husband. And that’s how she likes it.
 
Until she meets Alex, another American who ends up being her only other friend, the one person who reminds her of what it’s like to feel desired, wanted and hungered for.
 
Except Alex has motives. And Alex has questions — about her husband’s work at the world’s most-advanced, leading-edge power station, questions he wants answered… and when Allana can no longer provide them, Alex threatens to reveal the secrets of their forbidden past, secrets that will destroy the man that saved her.
 
Caught between two men — one she loves and the other she can’t help but love — Allana must deliberate the role she plays in the moments leading to humankind’s greatest disaster… in 1986.
 

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1986
Excerpt
1986 1
Abou the author
Morgan

Author Bio: As the author of the best-selling mystery romance, Surviving Goodbye, Morgan Parker has written several other novels under this pen name. In 2012 and 2013, he self-published Textual Encounters and Textual Encounters: 2, respectively. As a result of the interest in these two stories, he wrote non friction, an unconventional love story. That love story earned Mr. Parker a tremendous amount of attention and at the insistence of his readers, he followed it with Hope (a novella) and Sick Day. All three of those stories have spent time on Amazon best-seller lists.

When not writing, Morgan likes to spend time gathering story material from his two young children, rereading books by Colin Harrison, and napping where he discovered the Type II Sleep State, which is the topic for an untitled trilogy to be released in late-2016.

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~ The Dance by Alison G Bailey Blog Tour + Review + Giveaway ~

19 May
The Dance Blog Tour Banner
Photographer:  Abigail Marie, Non Pa’Reil Photography


Cover Design: Murphy Hopkins, Indie Solutions
 
Synopsis
The Dance is the story of what happens after the happily ever.
 
Bryson Walker stumbled heart first into the steady rhythm of her
life, never questioning whether other possibilities existed. She had been
Will’s girl since their junior year in high school, followed him to college,
and married him soon after graduation.
 
In every respect, they were a loving and successful couple,
until a series of missteps shattered all of Bryson’s truths. Maybe their life
was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. A performance that was never based in
reality.
 
Hart was barely an acquaintance. He and Bryson shared one brief
moment during senior prom, full of friction and heat that ignited a spark. But
that night Bryson walked away and Hart let her go.
 
Years later, twisted fate brings Bryson and Hart together again,
causing her to wonder if this is her second chance at once in a lifetime.
 
 

 

Excerpt

the Dance

Prologue
I stood in front of the glass wall, mesmerized. The fake sunlight shimmered down through the water, bouncing off the yellow, green, and pink coral. The blue glow of the tank gave the dimly lit nook a mystical dreamy feel.
The prom committee had pulled off an epic feat this year. Instead of having the dance in our gross school gym it was being held at the new state-of-the-art aquarium downtown. Once the student committee agreed, Megan Sims, head cheerleader and overly developed youth, was given the task of presenting the new location idea to the faculty advisor, Mr. Hall. During the meeting, as Megan waxed poetic about riding the waves of hope out into the ocean of the future, she hoisted her massive boobs up to meet Mr. Hall’s sightline. Three seconds into Megan’s spiel the dude was so titnotized that he would have offered up his first born in order to pay the rental fee.
At first, I had my doubts about spending my final prom at the aquarium. The fishy décor didn’t exactly scream romance, but I had to admit, it was pretty cool. The dance was in Ballroom A, which opened up onto a huge deck facing the Charleston harbor. Inside three giant purple octopus chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, casting cool shadows on the walls covered in varying shades of blue. Big white coral sculptures were at the four corners of the room. Tables draped in white linen with candles and seashell centerpieces outlined the room, leaving a huge space in the middle for dancing.
 
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christie review5 star a

What happens when the HEA you’ve always pictured turns out to be just an illusion? What do you do when you realize your Prince Charming might just be a frog? These are the questions facing Bryson when she discovers the secrets her husband, Will, is keeping. However, she’s been Will’s, and Will has been hers since high school. The only time she ever considered someone different was when she encountered bad boy, Hart, during her prom. Their one dance would change them in ways they never imagined, but Bryson and Hart never happened, and she went on to marry Will. Everything seemed perfect at first, but when life threw a couple of curveballs, Bryson begins to see the cracks in her relationship with Will. Had they always been there? When Bryson and Hart meet by chance, the chemistry and magic is still there. They develop a friendship, and he provides her the support and encouragement she doesn’t get from Will. If you think this is your normal romance or a love triangle, you would be very wrong. There are unexpected twists, pain, redemption, and love.

There were times I was so angry when I read The Dance. At times, I hated Will and the way he treated Bryson. I was also angry with Bryson in continually giving up her dreams and allowing herself to be his doormat. As I continued my reading, my feelings changed a bit for Will. I’m sure some readers would disagree with me. Yes, he was horrible to Bryson at times, but by the end, I didn’t completely hate him. In fact, there were times I felt quite sorry for him (even though his choices weren’t always good). He was a very complicated and complex character. As Bryson became stronger, I also realized she wasn’t his doormat, she was a person who loved with her whole heart and always looked for the good in a person. And, Hart, he was my favorite, he took what life gave him and made the most of it. He went through his own pain, and instead of turning into a bitter person, he brought happiness to others. He is probably most unselfish person EVER! We need more Hart’s in this world…the world would definitely be a better place.

I became a HUGE fan of Alison G. Bailey’s after reading STOP, and I’m an even bigger fan of hers now! Not all parts of this book were pleasant or easy to read, but it is a MUST READ!!! It’s not just a book to entertain, but it’s a book that makes you feel something….sadness, happiness, and anger. Bailey is a master at playing with your emotions, and that is my favorite kind of writer. The Dance makes you think about life and the choices you make, and it also a story of hope. Life isn’t always perfect, but it’s what you do with your life that makes the difference and determines your own happiness!

Abou the author

I was born and raised in Charleston, SC. I attended Winthrop University and graduated with a major in Theater. While at school I began writing one-act plays, which I later produced. My debut novel, Present Perfect, landed on Amazon’s Best Seller List and appeared on many “Best Reads of 2013” Book Blogs. The novel won Best Book at the 2014 Indie Romance Convention Awards. My second novel, Past Imperfect, was published in February of 2014 and appeared on several best books of 2014 lists as well. Presently Perfect, the third and final book in The “Perfect” series was released in Dec 2014 to rave reviews. In March 2015 all the love, swoon, heat, and angst were combined into the Perfect Series Box Set. My fourth novel, Stop!, released in June 2015, becoming a bestseller in YA/Teen category.

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~ Power Play (Pilots Hockey #2) by Sophia Henry Sale Blitz ~

19 May

 

POWER PLAY
Pilots Hockey #2
Sophia Henry
Released February 16th, 2016
Flirt
Synopsis
In Sophia Henry’s blistering
follow-up to Delayed Penalty, hailed as “sexy, fun, and full of
angst” by L. P. Dover, a good girl and a hockey hunk face off against
expectations—and this match is guaranteed to see plenty of action.
 
Beneath her
innocent facade, Gabriella Bertucci has her reasons to be standoffish with
guys. Especially guys like Landon Taylor, a star defenseman on the minor-league
Detroit Pilots and the object of a serious crush since he first walked into her
family’s market. But when Landon comes through for her in a moment of crisis,
Gaby starts to wonder if there might be more to Landon than hard muscles and
fast skates.
 

 

Landon
isn’t afraid of telling Gaby that he’s got it for her bad. The problem is, she
seems unwilling to believe it. And though Landon enjoys his reputation as a
cool-headed athlete, he hates losing—both on the rink and off. It’s his
competitiveness that makes him so damn good at what he does . . . but it also
makes him just a little bit complicated.

One minute Gaby’s tempted to give in; the next, she’s getting cold feet. How
can she trust a guy who’s destined for bigger and better things to stick
around? Then again, when Landon pulls her close with those powerful arms, the
only thing that matters is right now.


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Abou the author
Sophia Henry, a proud Detroit native,
fell in love with reading, writing, and hockey all before she became a
teenager. She did not, however, fall in love with snow. So after graduating
with an English degree from Central Michigan University, she moved to North Carolina,
where she spends her time writing books featuring hockey-playing heroes,
chasing her two high-energy sons, watching her beloved Detroit Red Wings, and
rocking out at concerts with her husband.

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