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Exes With Benefits Blog Tour, Excerpt, & Review





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***He wants a second chance. I want a divorce. To get what I want, I’ll have to give him what he does.***

From New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Nicole Williams:

The only benefit I want from my ex is a divorce.

We got married for all the wrong reasons. The one thing we got right was our separation. I should have known better than to think I could bet on forever with a guy like Canaan Ford. Everything about him screamed impermanent, from his wild eyes to his restless soul.

When I left him and the small town I’d spent my whole life in, I swore I’d never go back. Never only turned out to be five years. Canaan claims he’s changed, but he hasn’t—same knowing smile, same rough demeanor, same body crafted from sin and sinew. And yet, something is different. He thinks this is his chance for redemption. My disagreement comes in the form of divorce papers dropped in his lap. He refuses to sign them. Unless . . .

He wants a month to prove himself to me—that’s his offer. One month to make me fall in love with him again and if I don’t, he’ll sign the papers. As much as I want to say no, I agree. I can suffer my ex for a short amount of time if that’s what it takes to be free of him once and for all. I fell for him once; I won’t make that same mistake twice.

He says we’re not over. I say we were over before we got started. Only one of us can be right, and I can’t let it be him.


“One month. That’s nothing in the scope of a person’s life.” He slid a bit closer.
“One month is everything when it comes to opening myself back up to you.”
He didn’t argue that. He let silence speak for him instead.
“What exactly are you expecting during this one month?” I might have winced when I heard myself say those words.
He rubbed his mouth, trying to hide whatever was trying to form. “For you to give me another chance. For you to be my wife.”
The term made me nauseated. “Your wife? As in your indentured servant? No way.”
It was a smile he was trying to hide. Not very successfully. It made me thankful I’d slipped into these old boots so I could give him a solid kick in the ass if necessary.
“Like be willing to spend time with me. That’s it. That’s all,” he added when he correctly interpreted the question in my eyes. The question.
“What will we be doing during that time we’re spending together?” I pulled at the chest of my dress when I noticed the way his gaze had lingered there a moment too long.
His shoulder rose. “Got any ideas?” There was an unmistakable glint in his eyes.
“No,” I answered instantly.
“You used to have plenty of ideas for filling the time.” He took a swig of his Coke.
“And then I learned how to use my brain.”
He studied my fake smile, almost like he was contemplating what it would feel like against his mouth. “Dinners. Dates. Simple stuff like that.”
I held my best poker face, considering his offer. I didn’t want to stay married to him. If one more month was what it took to be free of Canaan Ford, I could suck it up. I’d already made it five years. “No expectations of anything of a physical nature?”
“If I remember right”—his eyes narrowed as he rubbed the back of his head—“it was generally you who instigated all of that back then.”
I shoved his chest. Bad idea. Solid. Firm. Home.
My jaw ground as I worked to erase that word from my conscious where he was concerned. “And you were just the perfect gentleman.”
Canaan snatched my hand before I could pull it away. Holding onto it, he dragged me closer. Not so close that our bodies touched, but close enough the separation was painful.
“Exactly,” he said in that low voice of his. The one he’d whispered my name in so many times as he moved inside me. “A gentleman gives his woman exactly what she needs. As many times as she need it. Just doing my part.”
“How noble.”
“That’s right. So if you want to make any changes to this one month agreement, consider me your humble servant.” When his hand dropped to my waist, his touch hesitant at the same time it was insistent, I didn’t flinch out of instinct the way I should have.
Instead, I had to remind myself to pull away from him; to flinch at his touch. “I have a boyfriend, Canaan.” Even to my ears, it sounded like a weak protest.
His hand didn’t fall away when I stepped back. “You’re a married woman, Maggie.”
“My husband forfeited his rights years ago.” My eyes found his, expecting them to shoot away once mine made contact.
They didn’t. His gold eyes held to mine. “He’s here to reclaim them.”









Absolutely stunning book about a second chance at love, redemption, learning from the painful lessons of the past, and hope for a bright future, and sharing it with your soulmate.

Maggie left her hometown and her husband in the rearview mirror five years ago vowing never to come back, but that isn’t what fate had planned for her. She has returned for her beloved grandmother’s funeral, and this is her chance to finally put Canaan Ford behind her with divorce papers. Only one problem…he tells her it isn’t over. She knows it is and has been for many years. He broke her heart once, and she won’t let him do it again.


“Walking away from someone I loved was hard enough, but Canaan wasn’t just someone I loved—he was someone I’d shared everything with.” ~ Maggie


She moved to Chicago making a good life for herself, and Canaan has no part in that life. At least that is what Maggie keeps telling herself. I love a man who wants he wants, and Canaan knows what he wants, his wife. He will go to great lengths to win her back. Yes, he made major mistakes in his life, the biggest, letting Maggie slip through his fingers because of his destructive decisions. Maggie had to leave to save herself.


“Canaan was the best part of my life. And the worst. The best memories. And the worst. He was the high and the low and I was d**n tired of the sick cycle I thought would kill me one day.” ~ Maggie


She had to leave him even though she left part of her soul with him that night before he took her into his dark cycle with him. I admired that about her. It couldn’t be easy leaving him behind and all the memories they shared. Now, I wondered whether she would have the strength to trust him again, especially when all signs point to him finally becoming the man that was worthy of her, or would her fear keep them apart.

The chemistry and love these two shared just came alive within the pages of this book. I was caught up in the storm that was Maggie and Canaan, and I enjoyed every single moment of it.

Not only did I love their passion and romance, but I loved Nicole Williams’s writing. She wrote in a way that every scene was a movie reel in my mind. I was there with the characters. I just adored Maggie’s grandmother. Even though she was no longer alive, she was a huge character for me. Her love for both Maggie and Canaan continued to guide them. She reminded me of my own grandmother and the special relationship I shared with her. If you are looking for a romance with all the feels and passion with unforgettable characters, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS ONE!!!!



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

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




Book Tours

The Opposite Effect (Enigma, Book 8) by Shandi Boyes Blog Tour





Blog Tour: The Opposite Effect

by Shandi Boyes


Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance

Series: Enigma; Book 8


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Available Now!





Brax Anderson is the #1 bachelor on his side of Ravenshoe. With ruggedly handsome looks and an even more gorgeous heart, one flash of his killer smile has the women swarming like bees to a honeypot. His grandma, friends, and a few solid hours between the sheets with a vast variety of bunnies is what keeps his blood pumping. He is a self-proclaimed bachelor who has no intentions of settling down.


That is all about to change when a girl from the other side of the tracks walks into his life. With a fire-breathing attitude and a body even hotter than that, its not just Brax’s blood pressure she is surging to record-breaking highs.


She tosses out callous words like they are grenades, and can spar with the best of them, but what happens when a beauty meets a beast she can’t conquer?


Can opposites really attract? Will Brax defy the laws of attraction? Or will the dragon finally slay the princess?


It’s time to find out. Get ready and hold on tight! You’re about to embark on an epic adventure between the pages in this sizzling enemies to lovers romance.


Please note: this story is NOT a fairytale. The scenes are hot, the main man is even hotter, and the storyline is gritty and real. Recommended for audiences over the age of 18 due to sexual content, adult scenes, and swear words. If hot alpha men with big hearts and rough exteriors scare you, this may not be the book for you.




About the Author


Shandi Boyes lives in Queensland, Australia in a coastal community with her husband and children. She has always been an avid reader and recently found the love of writing. Her first penned book was in February 2016 – the ‘Perception’ series. A modern new adult rockstar romance series that will have you sitting on the edge of your seat. You should consider starting these books first thing in the morning, or you may not sleep. In September, her focus shifted to hot alpha men in steamy contemporary reads that sizzle off the pages.


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Book Tours · Excerpt

King of Code by CD Reiss Blog Tour & Excerpt


King of Code, an all-new intriguing and sexy standalone from CD Reiss is available NOW!


King of Code by CD Reiss

Publication Date: September 18th, 2017


Genre: Contemporary Romance

From New York Times Bestselling author, CD Reiss, comes a sexy tale of secrets, intrigue, betrayal, and a love worth crossing a continent for.

Taylor Harden is a man on the edge.

The edge of fame. The edge of untold wealth.

The edge of utter humiliation.

He built an unhackable system, and in front of everyone, it’s hacked.

His reputation goes from king to goat in a split second. Boom. Like that.

Some dude in Barrington, USA (AKA Nowhere) has locked down Taylor’s code, and if he doesn’t get it back, he’s going to be wearing a monkey suit for the rest of his life.

Except, this guy? This hacker from Nowhere? He’s not a guy.

Harper Watson’s all woman. And she has a plan for Taylor, his code, and his body.


“About time!” the older lady shouted.

“Is Harper back?” I asked, handing the bags to the blushing redhead.

As if summoned, Harper came through the swinging door, keeping it open so everyone could get past. She looked at me through the screen.

“You coming in?” she asked.

“We need to talk.”

“Did the decryption key work?”

The door slapped closed behind her as she came out, and we were alone. The way the setting sun hit her cheeks made her glow, and the strands of gold hair at the edges looked translucent. She belonged on a postcard.

I kept forgetting she was holding me hostage. I kept forgetting I needed to think strategically. I had more at stake with this girl than I’d ever had with another.

“Did you doubt it would work?”

“Not really. I’m just making conversation.”

“What are the thorns about?” I pointed at the thorn bed that had eaten my phone and went down the stairs to the yard.

She came after me. “Don’t you have these where you’re from?” She snapped a dry twig off the end.

“Roses? Yes. Impenetrable, groomed thorn bushes in our yards? No.”

“It’s not normal to give the gardeners in town something to do?” We walked around the perimeter.

“You are not normal.”

“It still blooms in spring. It’s really nice. You should see it.”

We were at the back end of the yard, where the very top of the factory’s roof cut the horizon.

I took her hand, pulling her to a stop. “Harper.”

“Taylor?” Her hair flew in her mouth when she turned, and she drew her finger across her cheek to get it out.

What was I supposed to tell her again? That I knew we’d interviewed her. That I didn’t give her the job despite her having a leg up on everyone else we saw.

But was I contrite? Accusatory? Was I just going to relay information? What did I want out of her after I told her I knew?

“Thank you for helping today,” she said. “If you’d asked me when we met, ‘Would Taylor Harden help clean the factory?’ I would have said, ‘No, not for any reason.’ But there you were. Pushing a broom. Scooping up shit. Not being an asshole.”

“My watch was at stake.”

“Yeah. Whatever. You can say what you want to keep your reputation as a shithead intact.”

“I have a reputation as a shithead?”

“You know you do.”

I did know it, and I reveled in it.

She faced me and put her other hand out. I took it, holding both hands between us. I couldn’t help it.

“Well, you guys are such a bunch of sad sacks I had to help. And let me tell you, every guy in Barrington has a little asshole in him. Trust me. I’ve played pool with them.”

“I want to say…” She stopped herself as if she really didn’t want to say. “Let’s get together tonight and get you another decryption code. But… saying this is stupid.” She bit her lip.

“Say it anyway.”

“The sooner you get four codes, the sooner you leave.”

I looked at our hands so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

“I’m not sure if I want that,” she said.


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About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.


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Book Tours · Excerpt · Giveaways

The Suburbs Have Secrets (A Sadie McIntyre Mystery) by Barbara Wallace Book Blitz, Excerpt, & Giveaway


The Suburbs Have Secrets

by Barbara Wallace

A Sadie McIntyre Mystery

Publication Date: September 11, 2017

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Mystery

Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited!


When Sadie McIntyre gives a drunken Marylou Paretsky a ride home on a rainy night, little does she realize it’s the last time anyone will see Marylou alive.

Tragic accident? Or Murder?

The following morning, Marylou is found dead at the bottom of her staircase. What first appears to be a drunken tumble becomes far more complicated as Sadie discovers Marylou wasn’t as sweet and timid as everyone thought. Turns out Marylou spent her spare time digging up dirt on her neighbors and left behind a list of their secrets. Much to her horror, Sadie’s name is right on top.

Eager to keep her past buried, Sadie, with the help of her best friend Rob and Dan Bartlett, the town’s sexy new chief of detectives, sets out to who on the list was desperate enough to kill. Will she discover the answer before the truth gets out?

Or will the killer find Sadie first?



It was half past seven, Sunday night. I was on my way home from a wildly unsuccessful open house and debating whether or not I wanted to drown my sorrows in a bottle of Riesling when wham! Out of nowhere, a dark figure stepped in front of my car.

I slammed on the brakes. Thankfully, I wasn’t driving fast, so I screeched to a halt inches shy of a collision. The person—whoever it was—didn’t notice. Head down, the figure crossed the street…

And promptly crumpled to the ground.

I got out of my car and hurried around the hood, stopping short when I reached the left headlight. The person sat cross-legged in the middle of the road, face obscured by a dark navy hood. “Are you all right?”

The person muttered a reply. From where I stood, it sounded like “stupid street.”

I stepped closer. Probably not the best idea, seeing as how I was alone and dealing with a potentially crazy person. Then again, curiosity has always been my downfall.

“Hello?” I said, reaching for their shoulder. “Do you need some help?”

“Don’t touch me!” the person screeched, and jerked away from my touch. In the process, they fell backward, knocking the hood away.


“Stupid street. Freaking tilted off balance.”

It was Marylou Paretsky.

At least she had Marylou’s voice and pudgy face. The Marylou I knew wore pastel twin sets and chirped her words like an excited chipmunk. The woman in front of me looked like a street person. Her navy-blue sweatshirt was two sizes too small. I could see her stomach protruding out from beneath the hem. And her hair, normally neat as a pin, hung in a half-done ponytail, the sandy brown curls flopping in her face. When she turned, I caught raccoon circles of mascara lining her eyes.

I watched as she struggled to stand up, only to get her feet halfway under her body before sitting again. “Stupid street. Stop moving,” she muttered.

She was drunk as a skunk. “Here, let me help you up.”

“Leave me alone. I’m fine.” The protest might have had more oomph if she hadn’t tipped over trying to slap my hand away. Not even trying to save herself, she fell and lay with her cheek smushed into the blacktop. “’M perfectly fine.”

We weren’t going to get anywhere this way. Grabbing her upper arm—this time she was too busy lying down to wave me off—I tugged her into a sitting position.

“Stop it! Gotta stay here. Gonna listen to me.”

Listen? If she kept hollering in the middle of the street, the whole neighborhood was going to hear her. I looked around at the houses with their curtains drawn. Thankfully, we were on the north side of town where the houses were set farther back from the sidewalks. Plus, everyone would be settling in to watch the eight o’clock game.

You can’t stay here,” I told her. “We’re in the middle of the street.” Dear Lord, but she reeked. Alcohol. Mothballs. There was a third smell in there too I couldn’t identify. It might have been sweat. “Tell you what. Let’s get you home, and you can sit there.”

“No! Gotta stay. It’s impo-portant.”

Impotent or important? I didn’t get to ask because she managed to yank free of my grip and crawled on all fours toward the curb. Dignity was clearly off the table at this point.

At least we were out of the street though. We were making progress.

That’s when she threw up.

We’re talking super ugly, power retching. The kind that poured out of you and turned the air sour. I jumped onto the grass, praying the splatter didn’t hit my pants. How much had Marylou had to drink anyway? Considering the volume coming out of her, it was obviously a lot. Afraid to look down in case there was a stream of vomit in the gutter, I stared at my car that was still running in the middle of the street.

Marylou continued retching long after she’d emptied her stomach. Harsh, gasping heaves that made her body shake. I stood behind her and rubbed circles between her shoulder blades, the way I used to when my son, Tim, had the stomach flu. Someone was going to find a very unpleasant surprise when they stepped outside tomorrow morning, that was for sure. I wondered if I should ring the doorbell and let them know. Then again, did I really want to be publically associated with this debacle?


I looked down. Marylou had managed to push herself upright. Sitting on her haunches, she rocked back and forth, her arms clutching her stomach. “Lousy, stupid loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” I told her. “You just had too much to drink. Happens to everyone. I’ll bring you—”

“Not me. Her. Them.”

She spoke so harshly, I jumped. This was not the chipmunkian woman I thought I knew. “Who are they?”

“Thinking I can be ignored. Well, I can’t. ’M not some stupid kid anymore.” She swiped her hand hard across her mouth. “I’m a winner now. She’ll see. A. Win. Ner.” She punctuated each pause with a jab of her finger against the Native American logo silkscreened just above her heart. She’ll be sorry. Gonna stomp her on her head.”

“You don’t mean that.” At least I hoped not. Hearing her talk about violence freaked me out. As the past five minutes had shown, I didn’t know Marylou as well as I’d thought. For all I knew, those twin sets she normally wore concealed the heart of a serial killer. Wouldn’t be the first time I misjudged a person’s character, although I thought I’d gotten better over the years.

“Yes, I do,” Marylou snapped. “I hope they all die in a hole. Every single one of them.”

“Who?” I asked again. With all the various pronouns being bandied about, I was getting confused. “What did they do?”

But Marylou was too deep into her angry pity party to hear my question. Instead, she rambled on about winning and making “them” see. “Lying bitch. But I know. Got proof.”

“Okay,” I said, “let’s get you home.” My car was still in the street. It’d be just my luck to run out of gas listening to her blather. Taking her elbow, I finally succeeded in pulling her to her feet. Because no good deed goes unpunished, the moment she stood, she leaned into my side, along with her rancid breath. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I know.”

“He thinks I am, but I knew he didn’t buy that aftershave for the smell. He bought it for her.”


“Her!” She spit the word like it was leftover vomit on her tongue. “Ungrateful bastard. Screwing around with his assistant. After everything I’m doing for him.”

“Paul’s having an affair? Are you sure?”

“Course I’m sure. No one works that many late hours. No one. Why does everyone think I’m stupid?” Her head separated from my shoulder. “You think I’m stupid too, don’t you?”

“No,” I replied, feeling her glazed glare. “It’s just… he doesn’t seem the type.” I’d only met Paul Paretsky once, at a volunteer’s mixer for our town’s local cancer fundraiser. He was a quiet, awkward man with palms so sweaty, I’d had to wipe my hand on a napkin after he shook it. If I remembered correctly, he spent most of the mixer avoiding any actual mixing. Hard to imagine him having the nerve to cheat on Marylou. “I meant how do you know?”

“Cause I know, that’s why. Dinner and the game. I know better. I know lots of things. Important things.”

As her index finger assaulted the emblem on her chest a second time, I realized how stupid I was in trying to have this conversation. “Why don’t we go sit in my car?”

“I’m serious. You have no idea how many things I know. You should respite…respect me.”

“I do respect you.”

Her head lolled toward mine again, bringing a new waft of rancid breath. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Only a few more feet to the passenger door. Never had such a short walk felt so long. With every step, Marylou’s voice grew more slurred, and her steps more sluggish. It was like dragging a giant sack of flour. If she passed out before I got her into the passenger seat, I was screwed, because there was no way I would be able to lift her into my SUV by myself, and I didn’t relish knocking on some stranger’s door to ask for assistance.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she was in the front seat. “Can you buckle your seatbelt?” I asked.

“I threw up on my sweatshirt.”

Make that a no.

“I can’t believe I got vomit on it. Now it’s all ruined.”

How could she tell? I hadn’t noticed when we were outside, but under the dome light I could see the thing was covered with stains, including a crusty one on the front pocket.

The spot offending Marylou was near the emblem. She rubbed furiously at the peeling image, trying to clean it. The poor silhouette was getting its share of abuse tonight. Reaching into the glove compartment, I handed her a clump of napkins and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. “Here,” I said, “these might work better.” Not to mention she could clean her hands. “When you get home, you can throw the shirt in the wash, and it’ll be like new.”

“Can’t. Got to keep it or won’t work. I don’t feel well.”

Oh no, not in my car. “Hold on,” I said, buckling her in. “Let me get you something for the ride. If you get sick before I get back—” I pushed the passenger door as wide as it would go. “—lean out.”

Keeping one eye out for her head, I ran around to the rear of my car to look for something I could use as a bucket. Underneath the open house signage was my obligatory stash of canvas grocery bags. The ones I was supposed to use but always forgot about until I was halfway through the groceries. Too bad I didn’t have a plastic bag to use for a liner, but my collection of plastic grocery bags was hanging by the back door of my house for me to remember to take them for recycling.

Hopefully, the fate of the environment didn’t rest on my memory.

“You’re so nice,” Marylou slurred when I returned. She’d stopped wiping and was picking at the white shirt bulging from beneath the sweatshirt hem. “They would leave me in the gutter. Wait!”

Her head, which had started to drop against her chest, smacked against the headrest. “I gotta show her. So she knows.”

“How about you wait until tomorrow,” I said, stuffing the bag between her feet. “When you’re not so…sick and can talk better.”

She nodded. “In the morning. I’ll show her. They’ll have to listen to me.”

“Let’s get you home. You can get some sleep and tomorrow be at your best when you talk to them. Her.”

Honest to God, she was killing me with all the pronoun switches.

Sticky fingers clamped themselves around my wrist. “You’re the best, Sadie.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Sadie McIntyre, living saint.” I tried to pull my hand away so I could shut the door, but Marylou’s grip tightened. Where was this strength when we were walking?

“Seriously,” Marylou said. “You’re real nice, not fake, two-face nice. You’ve been nice to me since the day I got here. Not like those other lying witches.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I appreciate you. That’s why I didn’t…” Whatever she was about to say, she stopped, increasing her grip on my wrist instead. Her eyes grew serious and strangely sober. “I will never betray our friendship, Sadie. You have my word.”

The October wind picked up, causing the skin on my neck to prickle. She was drunk. Drunks tended to get dramatic. “Your word, huh?”

“Till the day I die.”

She flashed me a sloppy smile. It was the start of a head-to-toe relaxation. Gaze growing unfocused, she leaned against the headrest and let her fingers grow slack. “Swear to God.”

She set a low bar. Marylou and I weren’t exactly what you’d call friends. Beyond seeing her at Cuppa Joe’s Café every morning, and serving on the Night Walk Charity Planning Committee, we had very little interaction. In all honesty, I’d always thought her a kind of an odd duck.

“Let’s get you home,” I said, finally breaking my wrist free.

It didn’t dawn on me until I had buckled my own seatbelt that I didn’t know where Marylou’s home was.

“Hemlock Street,” she said when I asked. Seriously? We were currently in Upper Woodbridge. The good side of the tracks, if you will, where the people with large incomes lived. Not very large—that was yet another section of town. Both areas were several miles from Hemlock Street, however.

A horrible thought hit me. “You didn’t drive, did you?”

“Walked,” she said, shaking her head. “Would never drink and drive.”

Thank God for that small favor. “Pretty long hike.”

“I didn’t mind. I had… Did you see my bottle? I had a bottle. I’m thirsty. What did I do with it?”

Dropped it, empty, on somebody’s lawn was my guess. “We’ll get you some water when you get home,” I told her.

“Oh-kay.” The words came out a disappointed sigh. Her head rolled to the side, and she looked out the window. “Rather have a drink.”

Her and me both.



About Barbara Wallace

Bestselling, award-winning author Barbara Wallace specializes in sassy, smart novels known for their emotional depth. Since her debut in 2009, she’s gone on to publish nearly 20 titles with Harlequin Romance and Entangled Publishing to world-wide popularity. A life-long Yankee, Barbara lives in New England with her husband, their son, two very spoiled self-centered cats (as if there could be any other kind) and a very catered-to rescue pup.

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Cover Reveals

Lost Before You (Heart’s Compass #2) by Brooke O’Brien Cover Reveal

Title: Lost Before You (Heart’s Compass #2)

Author: Brooke O’Brien

Release Date: October 27th, 2017

Genre: New Adult 

Cover Designer: Cover Art © Najla Qamber, Najla Qamber Designs




I wish someone would’ve warned me about the dangers of 

falling in love with your best friend. 

I was no stranger to covering up my problems with meaningless sex and alcohol. 

When Brea asked me for one night to help her forget, 

I craved being the man she needed.

Just sex.

No commitment.

Then she begged me to promise her nothing would change between us. 

I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her.

One night.

One broken promise.

I will never forget the night I fell in love with my best friend, 

and now nothing will ever be the same.


$25 Amazon Gift Card & an ARC paperback copy of Lost Before You – 


• Go to @ Brooke O’Brien’s page and click on the original post ~


Brooke O’Brien is the author of the Heart’s Compass series. Her debut novel, Where I Found You, released in May 2017. The second book in the Heart’s Compass series, Lost Before You, is expected to release on October 27th.


Brooke lives in the Midwest with her high school sweetheart and their three children (both human and furry). Growing up Brooke always had a love of writing; she started out writing poetry when she was young and began journaling her thoughts as she grew older. Diving headfirst into a good book has always been therapeutic for her. Now her two passions have collided.


She believes you can cure any bad day with chocolate. Brooke enjoys going on long drives with no destination in mind. She’s found that’s when her characters talk to her the most! If she’s not reading or writing, you’ll probably find her spending time with her family, watching NBA basketball, going to the movies, or collecting signed paperbacks.





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Cover Reveals

Defiant Attraction by V.K. Torston Cover Reveal


Defiant Attraction comes out November 16th!


Title: Defiant Attraction

Author: V.K. Torston

Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Erotic Romance

Release Date: November 16th, 2017

About the Book


Dan might be the enemy of my enemy, but I’m not sure that makes him my friend. He’s definitely not my ‘step brother’, no matter what everyone at school says. Honestly, I don’t know what he’s supposed to be to me. Or what he’s becoming…

Fact: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

In the yearbook, I’ll be Sophia Ramos: Valedictorian. Years of honor roll certificates, AP classes, and lugging around an obnoxiously large cello case are about to finally pay off. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll escape these decaying suburbs for a top university across the country.

The problem? A few years ago, my mom met someone just as broke, just as drunk, and just as impulsive as she is. Approximately five seconds into their relationship, they decided it would be an excellent idea for him—and his son, Dan—to move in with us. (Spoiler alert: it wasn’t).

Now I share a house with none other than Daniel Cole. Even though Dan dropped out two years ago, he’s still the tattooed, bad boy, heartthrob, legend of St. Anthony’s Academy. He and I aren’t supposed to have anything in common.

Living together means war. First, Dan and I were at war with each other. Now, our rivalry is giving way to an unlikely alliance—two opposing sides teaming up against a common enemy: our respective parents.

Which is to say, we’ve been hanging out.

Question: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

Here’s the thing: My brain is a complex organ. One hundred billion neurons, each with an average of seven thousand synaptic connections to other neurons. My brain is my ticket out of here.

My heart, by contrast, is a pump. It moves blood around.

I know Dan is off-limits. I know I shouldn’t do something I’ll regret. And I know how much is at stake (my family, my future).

So why can’t I stop thinking about him? Those inscrutable jade eyes. The smile that can say a thousand different things at once. That tattoo curving across his abs…

Even though I know better, I feel that pounding in my chest. And it’s getting harder to ignore.

But if I follow my heart, I can never go back.

Answer: There is no such thing as an immovable object.



About the Author

vkheadshotV.K. Torston is a millennial and ‘cool aunt’ to a brood of nieces and nephews. She was born and raised in San Francisco, attended university in New York City, and aspires to one day live in London. A veteran of the independent music scene, she began writing nonfiction in her late teens. Then she realized that making up stories was way more fun than coming up with endless synonyms for ‘frenetic’ and ‘danceable.’ Her hobbies include drinking too much coffee, making up stupid songs, and ranting about current events. Defiant Attraction is her first novel.

Twitter: @vktorston


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Book Tours · Giveaways · Uncategorized

All We Are (The Six Series Book 5) by Sonya Lovejoy Blog Tour & Giveaway

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All We Are

Book 5 of The Six Series

Now Available on Amazon!

Life hasn’t been the same since returning from Barbados. Josh has fallen. Hard. Unable to shake the feelings Ella stirred up in him, he retreats further into himself. He can’t tell her how he feels, because even if he did, it wouldn’t change the fact that she’s married.

Complicated is an understatement for Ella as she works through her own personal hell after finding out her dead husband is, in fact, alive and in hiding again. But life, and work, must go on.

An undercover job on a four-week cruise should be an easy mission for the Cole Enterprise operatives. Unfortunately, the client is one of Ella’s childhood friends, which leaves the pair wishing they’d come up with something other than being engaged as their cover. Playing the part may just hurt them both.

Falling in love is never easy. In fact, it can sometimes be downright painful. No strangers to pain, Josh and Ella find themselves at the crossroads of duty and love. Lines will be blurred. Hearts will be broken. And all that they are will be tested.

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Read for FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

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Book 1 of The Six Series, for FREE!

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About The Author

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