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Stroke of Luck (Sterling’s Montana Series #1) by B.J. Daniels Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

7 Feb

 

From New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels, comes STROKE OF LUCK—the stunning first novel in her brand new Western-set romantic suspense Sterling’s Montana Series!

STROKE OF LUCK releases on February 19, 2019. Pre-order your copy today!

 

STROKE OF LUCK Synopsis:

He’s hoping to bury the past. She’s ready to settle the score.

The Sterling Ranch’s season opening isn’t going so smoothly. With the ranch’s lodge full of guests and a Montana blizzard threatening, Will Sterling needs help—and he needs it fast. So when his childhood friend Poppy Carmichael agrees to lend a hand, he’s grateful for a second chance…and more enticed by the woman she’s become than he cares to admit.

For Poppy, it was supposed to be a retreat full of horse rides and hoedowns—with a side of showing Will what he’s been missing all these years. But as the snow deepens outside, the guests’ suspicion and mistrust turn sinister inside, catching Will and Poppy in the crosshairs.

Weathering the storm in each other’s arms is all too easy for Will and Poppy, but will a confrontation with a killer mean their reunion is short-lived?

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author B.J. Daniels starts her Sterling’s Ranch series off with a bang in this suspenseful story of romance and revenge.

 

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Excerpt:

“Bad luck always comes in threes.”

Standing in the large kitchen of the Sterling Mon­tana Guest Ranch, Will Sterling shot the woman an impatient look. “I don’t have time for this right now, Dorothea.”

“Just sayin’,” Dorothea Brand muttered under her breath. The fifty-year-old housekeeper was short and stout with a helmet of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. She’d been part of the fixtures on the ranch since Will and his brothers were kids, which made her invaluable, but also as bossy as an old mother hen.

After the Sterling boys had lost their mother, Dor­othea had stepped in. Their father, Wyatt, had con­tinued to run the guest ranch alone and then with the help of his sons until his death last year. For the first time, Will would finally be running the guest ranch without his father calling all the shots. He’d been looking forward to the challenge and to carry on the family business.

But now his cook was laid up with a broken leg? He definitely didn’t like the way the season was starting, Will thought as the housekeeper leaned against the counter, giving him one of her you’re-going-to-regret-this looks as he considered who he could call.

As his brother Garrett brought in a box of sup­plies from town, Will asked, “Do you know anyone who can cook?”

“What about Poppy Carmichael?” Garrett sug­gested as he pulled a bottle of water from the re­frigerator, opened it and took a long drink. “She’s a caterer now.”

Will frowned. “Poppy?” An image appeared of a girl with freckles, braces, skinned knees and reddish brown hair in pigtails. “I haven’t thought of Poppy in years. I thought she moved away.”

“She did, but she came back about six months ago and started a catering business in Whitefish,” Garrett said. “I only know because I ran into her at a party recently. The food was really good, if that helps.”

“Wait, I remember her. Cute kid. Didn’t her father work for the forest service?” their younger brother, Shade, asked as he also came into the kitchen with a box of supplies. He deposited the box inside the large pantry just off the kitchen. “Last box,” he an­nounced, dusting off his hands.

“You remember, Will. Poppy and her dad lived in the old forest service cabin a mile or so from here,” Garrett said, grinning at him. “She used to ride her bike over here and help us with our chores. At least, that was her excuse.”

Will avoided his brother’s gaze. It wasn’t like he’d ever forgotten.

“I just remember the day she decided to ride Lightning,” Shade said. “She climbed up on the cor­ral, and as the horse ran by, she jumped on it!” He shook his head, clearly filled with admiration. “I can’t imagine what she thought she was going to do, riding him bareback.” He laughed. “She stayed on a lot longer than I thought she would. But it’s a won­der she didn’t kill herself. The girl had grit. But I al­ways wondered what had possessed her to do that.”

Garrett laughed and shot another look at Will. “She was trying to impress our brother.”

“That poor little girl was smitten,” Dorothea agreed as she narrowed her dark gaze at Will. “And you, being fifteen and full of yourself, often didn’t give her the time of day. So what could possibly go wrong hiring her to cook for you?”

 

 

About B.J. Daniels:

NYT and USA Today Bestselling author B.J. Daniels was born in Texas but moved with her family to Montana at the age of five. Her first home was a cabin in the Gallatin Canyon and later a lake house on Hebgen Lake outside of West Yellowstone.

Most of her books are set in Montana, a place she loves. She lives now in a unique part of the state with her husband and three Springer Spaniels.

When she isn’t writing, she loves to play tennis, boat, camp, quilt and snowboard. There is nothing she enjoys more than curling up with a good book.

 

 

 

 

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The Last Letter by Rebecca Yarros Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

30 Jan

 

The right words can save your life.

For fans of Nicholas Sparks and Jodi Picoult… A soldier falls in love with his battle buddy’s sister through their letters and returns home from Afghanistan with a secret that could destroy their fragile relationship. Don’t miss THE LAST LETTER by Rebecca Yarros! Pre-order your copy today!

 

About THE LAST LETTER (Coming 2/26/2019):

Beckett,

If you’re reading this, well, you know the “last-letter” drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there were any chance you could have saved me, you would have.

I need one thing from you: Get out of the army and get to Telluride.

My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. It’s not fair.

And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart. She’s going to need help.

So if I’m gone, that means I can’t be there for Ella. I can’t help them through this. But you can. So I’m begging you, as my best friend, go take care of my sister, my family.

Please don’t make her go through it alone.

Ryan

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“I cannot imagine a world without this story.” – Hypable

 

“A stunning, emotional romance.” – Jill Shalvis, NYT Bestselling Author

 

 

 

Excerpt:

“I’m not going anywhere. You need anything, and it’s yours. You need help? You’ve got it.”

She let loose a mocking laugh as she descended the steps.

“I don’t want or need you here, Mr.…” She opened the door to her SUV and pulled out a paper. “Mr. Gentry.”

“Beckett,” I answered, desperate to hear her say it. My real name.

“Okay, Mr. Gentry. Enjoy your vacation and then head home, because like I said, I’m not in need of a babysitter or anyone’s charity. I’ve been taking care of myself since Ryan ran off and joined the army after our parents died.”

I wanted to grab her, to hold her against my chest and block anything that wanted to harm her. My hands ached to sweep down the line of her back, to take away any of her suffering that she’d let me. I’d known this would be hard, but seeing her wasn’t anything I could have prepared myself for.

“It doesn’t matter if you want me, because I’m not here on your wishes. I’m here on Mac’s. This is all he asked of me, so unless you’re going to kick me off your property, I’m going to keep the promise I made.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay. Anything I need?”

“Anything.”

“When Ryan died—”

No. Anything but this.

“—he was on an op, right?”

Could she see the blood drain from my face? Because I sure as hell felt it. I heard the rotors. Saw the blood. Reached for his hand as it limply fell off the stretcher.

“Yes. It’s classified.”

Her hand gripped the open doorframe.

“So I’ve heard. I need…” She sighed, looking everywhere but at me for a second before straightening her shoulders and meeting my eyes. “I need to know what happened to Chaos. Was he there? When Ryan died? You were in the same unit, right?” Her throat moved as she swallowed, and her eyes took on a desperate plea.

Damn it. She deserved to know everything. That I wasn’t the man I wanted to be, that she needed. That I was the piece of shit who made it back with a beating heart while her brother came home draped in a flag. I needed her to know that I’d chosen to stop answering her letters because I knew that the only thing I could bring her in this life would be more pain.

I needed her to know that it was only Ryan’s letter that got me here, and the knowledge that it was the least I could do for my best friend. That I never meant to hurt her, never had the intention of smashing into her life like the wrecking ball I was—not when she lived under such breakable glass.

“Well? Was he?”

But what I needed didn’t matter.

I’ve never been able to give second chances when it comes to hurting the people I love. Letter number six.

If I told her those things, she’d shut me out, and I would fail Mac for a second time. I could tell myself that it was her choice, but really, it would be mine. I was the guy people looked for an excuse to get rid of, and truth was a gift-wrapped reason to kick me to the curb. There were two distinct paths ahead of me: the first, where I told her who I was and what had happened, and she promptly walked out of my life, and the second…where I did everything I could to help her, no matter what the cost.

Path number two it is.

“He was there,” I answered honestly.

Her lower lip trembled, and she bit onto it, like any sign of weakness had to be quashed. “And? What happened?”

“That’s classified.” I was a bastard, but an honest one.

“Classified. You’re all the same, you know that? Loyal as anything to one another and nothing left for anyone else. Just tell me if he’s dead. I deserve to know.”

“Knowing what happened to Mac…to Chaos…none of that would do you any good. It would hurt a hell of a lot more than it already does. Trust me.”

She scoffed, shaking her head as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. When she looked back up, the fake smile was in place, and those blue eyes had gone glacial.

“Welcome to Telluride, Mr. Gentry. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She climbed into the SUV and slammed the door, throwing the vehicle into reverse to get out of the drive.

I watched until she disappeared into the thick forest of trees.

Havoc brushed against my leg. I looked down at her, and she stared back up at me, no doubt knowing that I was an imbecile for what I’d just let happen.

“Yeah, that didn’t go so well.” I looked up at the cloudless Colorado sky. “We did a number on her, Mac. So if you’ve got any pointers on how to win over your sister, I’m all ears.”

I opened the tailgate of my truck and started to unload my stuff.

It might be temporary, but I was here for as long as Ella would let me stay. Because somewhere between letter number one and letter number twenty-four, I’d fallen in love with her. Fallen for her words, her strength, her insight and kindness, her grace under impossible circumstances, her love for her children, and her determination to stand on her own. I could list a thousand reasons that woman owned whatever heart I had.

But none of them mattered because, even though she was the woman I loved, to her, I was just a stranger. An unwelcome one at that.

Which was more than I deserved.

 

“This story gripped me from start to finish. The Last Letter is poignant, heartfelt and utterly consuming. I loved it!” – Mia Sheridan, NYT Bestselling Author

 

“Hands down, the best book I’ve read all year.” – Fic Wishes

 

About Rebecca Yarros:

Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and lover of all things chocolate, coffee, and Paleo. In addition to being a mom, military wife, and blogger, she can never choose between Young Adult and New Adult fiction, so she writes both. She’s a graduate of Troy University, where she studied European history and English, but still holds out hope for an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Her blog, The Only Girl Among Boys, has been voted the Top Military Mom Blog the last two years, and celebrates the complex issues surrounding the military life she adores. When she’s not writing, she’s tying on hockey skates for her kids, or sneaking in some guitar time. She is madly in love with her army-aviator husband of eleven years, and they’re currently stationed in Upstate NY with their gaggle of rambunctious kiddos and snoring English Bulldog, but she would always rather be home in Colorado.

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

 

Someone Like You by Alexandra Silva Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

15 Jan

Today we have the excerpt reveal for Alexandra Silva’s Someone Like You! Check it out and pre-order your copy today!!

Title: Someone Like You

Author: Alexandra Silva

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: January 31st

About Someone Like You:

Dorian Anson is my friend. She’s the only person who’s ever questioned my smiles. My jokes. The one liners that have our friends shaking their heads at me.
I’ve lived my life on those smiles. They never failed me, until her.

I wasn’t counting on her when I designed my front. I never imagined the possibility of someone like her coming into my life.

The wild hair, the kind smile and those eyes that see everything.

She was the girl with the beautiful soul, pretty face and whole heart. But hearts aren’t made to stay whole.

I watched hers break. I watched her tears fall. I watched as her world tilted on its axis and shattered at her feet.

This girl.

She sees me, all parts of me—the truths I try to hide, the secrets I bury. What’s mine and what’s not.

She sees it all, and I can only hope the truth isn’t too much. That she won’t walk away.

That she won’t leave me…alone.

We both have a past. We have ghosts. We have fears.

I’m hoping that somehow in the end, we’ll have each other too.

I’ve never needed anyone before her, and I know I’ll never want anyone else after her.

There is no one like her.

My pretty girl.

Dorian.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

Google it? That’s your plan?” She marked me with a glare that wasn’t half as playful as the one she usually gave me.

“That’s the plan, pretty girl, once you’ve told me what’s wrong.” I sat her back down on one of the stools and pushed the flute of wine away. “Before you try to tell me it’s nothing, I can tell something’s up.”

“I’m tired and grouchy.” She sighed gruffly as she reached for her drink, her jaw clenching as I took it from her and put it far enough away that she couldn’t get to it.

“You need to take a break, baby. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m fine, I’m just trying to get this case done. But there’s something that I’m not seeing and it’s bugging the crap out of me.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brother is a neurosurgeon, my best friend is a cardiothoracic surgeon, you’re a plastic surgeon…do you know what you all have in common?”

“We’re fucking amazing?”

“Apart from that.” She rolled her eyes as I sat down on the stool next to her and reached for her glass. I took a small sip before I handed it to her. “None of you have a clean slate. All of you have had something go wrong.”

She looked at me apologetically, like she was picking at a healing scab.

“It’s impossible to have a clean record when it comes to surgery.”

“Exactly, that’s why I was up crazy o’clock this morning going through my paperwork, trying to figure out what I’m missing.”

“You need to rest, Dorian.”

“I can’t, it’s not that easy…my brain won’t switch off.

“I get that, but you can’t run on empty.”

“I won’t lose this case, it’s my record. My career. It’s a permanent mark…”

I got that she was driven. I got that she had ambitions. I did. But, my worry wasn’t about her career, I knew that she would manage to wipe the floor with whoever came at her. My worry was for her wellbeing. Her health was far more important than another notch on her wins tally.

“What am I missing, Jake?” she gritted as she finished her drink.

“I don’t know, Dorian, but at some point, you’re going to have to decide if it’s worth risking your sanity and wellbeing…Daniel needs you.” I cringed inside, I knew that was below the belt.

“That’s not fair.” She pushed up from her seat and wandered over to the sink. She washed her hands like they were covered in sticky, invisible dirt. Scrubbing until her skin was red and raw. “Everything I do is for my son. Everything.”

“I get that you’ve worked hard to get to where you are. I admire how dedicated you are to getting to the top. I love that about you. I love that you push and keep pushing until things go your way and you get to where you need to be.”

“But?” She spun towards me, her hands tightening around the edge of the sink on either side of her. Her knuckles so white that they were a stark contrast to the dark granite.

“But there are times when we need to pull back, so we can press on another day.” I stood from the stool I was sat on and ambled to her. Her body strained flush to mine as she looked up at me with resignation in her eyes. I fucking hated having to be the one to push for her to slow down, but on this particular occasion, it was the best thing for her.

“I’m so close to getting where I want to be, Jake. So close I swear my fingertips can graze my goal.” She sighed, her breath pushing out of her raggedly as I anchored my hands on either side of hers. Her heaving chest pressed into mine.

“Pretty girl, you are an incredible force to be reckoned with, and anyone who thinks otherwise…they just have no idea. This is one wave, there’s a whole sea of them you can ride. Don’t let this be the one that drowns you. It’s not worth it, nothing is worth more than you are.”

Her eyes flitted from mine to my lips, the corner of her mouth quirked up as her tongue swept over her pout.

“Take a break, look after yourself. Please.” Her eyes rounded as I cupped her face.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I will never play fair when it comes to you and Daniel. There is no line I won’t cross when it comes to keeping what’s mine safe.”

“We’re not your property.”

“Property?” I laughed at the way she thought I saw her and Daniel as belongings. She was fucking clueless even with the way her eyes drew on mine and her pout pinched. “It’s fucking biology, Dorian. You and Daniel are a part of my biology, my anatomy. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my heart intact.”

Her eyes widened, the green so vibrant that the golden flecks didn’t blend and bleed with it.

“Alright. Fine. God, you’re impossible, you know that?” She cupped my face lightly, her nails affectionately grazing the stubble on the underside of my jaw.

“I love you, Dorian, but fuck me, you don’t make things easy.”

“Do you want easy?” she whispered into the hollow of my throat.

“I want you.” That was as simple and easy as it got. I wanted her and Daniel. That was all, and I would never let them go.

 

 

About the Author:

Alexandra Silva is a lover of words and romance. She blames the classics and a nutty English teacher for her obsession with books and fiction. Come rain or shine with either coffee or wine in hand you can find her with her nose stuck in a book and her head in the clouds. She lives in London outnumbered by her very loud boys, with her very own hero and their two wild cats–Jack and Jill.

 

Connect with Alexandra:

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Only a Breath Apart by Katie McGarry Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

9 Jan

 

 

Would you dare to defy destiny? Are our destinies written in stone? Do we become nothing more than the self-fulfilling prophesies of other people’s opinions? Or can we dare to become who we believe we were born to be?

 

“A gorgeous, heartfelt journey of redemption and love” (Wendy Higgins), ONLY A BREATH APART is a young adult contemporary novel from critically acclaimed Katie McGarry. “Haunting, authentic, and ultimately hopeful” (Tammara Webber), ONLY A BREATH APART will be available on all retailers on January 22, 2019!

 

 

About ONLY A BREATH APART:

Jesse dreams of working the land that’s been in his family forever. But he’s cursed to lose everything he loves most.

Scarlett is desperate to escape her “charmed” life. But leaving a small town is easier said than done.

Despite their history of heartbreak, when Jesse sees a way they can work together to each get what they want, Scarlett can’t say no.Each midnight meeting between Jesse and Scarlett will push them to confront their secrets and their feelings for each other.

 

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Gritty and real, Only a Breath Apart is a story of hope conjured from pain, strength drawn from innocence, and love earned from self-respect. Beautiful, poignant, and fierce.”
―Kristen Simmons, critically acclaimed author of the Article 5 series


 

Add it to your Goodreads today!

 

 

 

Excerpt:

SCARLETT

I’m defying my parents by attending a funeral. Reckless and adventurous teenage behavior, I know. Most seventeen-year-olds lie to their parents so they can go on a date with a forbidden boy or attend a party where there will be questionable behavior. Me? I’m outright lying to my dad, and it’s because Jesse Lachlin’s grandmother died.

The entire way here I’ve questioned my sanity, but I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I stayed home. Jesse Lachlin used to be my childhood best friend. We were inseparable. We had the type of friendship people strive to have, and then, a few years ago, he cut me so deeply that I still bleed. But ten-year-old me would have never abandoned a hurting Jesse. So today I’m not only honoring the memory of Jesse’s grandmother, but also the memory of our dead friendship.

On my way to the funeral, the high grass of the field swats at my legs, but I don’t mind the sting. I love walking barefoot in grass, I love the smell of the earth and I love that brief feeling of freedom open spaces can provide.

It’s the dog days of August. The type of hot that starts when the sun rises and makes you sweat through your clothes within minutes. While my skin and palms are on fire, the pads of my feet are cool against the dirt. The heat is unwelcome, but the sky is deep blue and the sun is bright, and for that, I can be grateful.

Walking out of the field, I stop short of crossing the one-lane road to slip on the flats that dangle from my fingertips. My mother would be mortified if she knew I was entering a church in a cotton daisy-print sundress. It’s not one of the dresses with stiff fabric and impossible back zippers she would have picked for me at an overpriced department store. It’s the type that’s machine-washable and breathable. The type of dress Jesse’s grandmother would have given her stamp of approval.

I can practically hear my mother heavily sigh and mumble my name, Scarlett, as if it were her personal, private curse word. Mom believes there’s a certain way to dress and behave, and I’m breaking all sorts of her rules today. Watch out, world. I’m officially rebellious.

I smile to myself because I’m the opposite of rebellious. For the last few years, I’ve followed every rule. I’m the teacher’s pet and the girl with straight A’s. I’m the poster child of perfection, and have earned every snarky ice princess comment Jesse’s friends whisper about me in the school hallways because he and I no longer speak.

There are only six cars in the parking lot of the white church, and that makes me frown. I thought more people would have wanted to attend. Jesse’s mud-covered pickup is there, and so is an unnaturally clean black Mercedes that belongs to his uncle. This ought to be interesting. Jesse and his uncle have a mutual hate for each other that runs deeper than any root of any tree.

Movement to my right and I slowly turn my head. Shivers run down my spine at the sight of Glory Gardner. Even though I’m seventeen and too old for ghost stories, I still can’t shake the ones regarding this woman. Girls would whisper over lunch boxes that Glory was a witch. As I grew older, I understood that witch meant con artist. She claims she can read palms, tarot cards and “sees” spirits from beyond the dead. All for a glorious fee.

She’s a beautiful woman—long dirty blond hair that’s untamed, even in a bun, and she has an eclectic taste in clothing. Today she wears a white peasant shirt and a flowing skirt made of material that shimmers in the sun.

Glory watches me like I watch her, with morbid curiosity. I knew her as a child, back when Jesse and I ran wild in the fields near her home, but we haven’t talked in years.

She stands under the shade of a towering weeping willow. There are lots of those trees around here. Mom says it’s because there is too much water in the ground. I say it’s because the people in this town have cried too many tears. Mom doesn’t like my answer.

I tilt my head toward the church, an unspoken question if Glory will be joining me. She shakes her head no. I’m not shocked. According to rumors, Glory will go up in flames if she enters the house of God. But who knows? Maybe I will, too.

The church is one of those picturesque, historical, one-room school buildings squeezed between a cornfield on one side and a hay field on the other. A huge steeple with a bell attempts to reach the heavens, but like anything created by a human, it falls tragically short.

The foreboding wooden door makes no noise as I open it, and I’m able to slip in without a huge, squeaking announcement. Orange light filters in through the dark stained glass windows, and its struggling beams reveal millions of dancing particles of dust.

On the altar, there’s no casket, but there is an urn. My heart dips—Suzanne is dead. I used to wish she were my grandmother, and many times, she treated me as if I belonged to her. Suzanne was the epitome of love, and the world feels colder now that she’s gone.

Choosing a spot in the back, I drop into a pew, and as I scan the church my stomach churns. How is it possible that this place is so barren?

Besides the Funeral Brigade, or the FB, as I like to refer to them, there aren’t many people here. The FB are the older group of woman who attend every funeral in our small town even if they didn’t know the person. Attending funerals isn’t my idea of fun, but who am I to judge?

The FB sit directly behind the one person the town believes to be the lone sane member of the Lachlin family, probably because he isn’t blood related—Jesse’s uncle.

On the left side of the church is Jesse. Only Jesse. And that causes a painful pang in my chest. Where are his stinking friends? The anarchists in training who follow Jesse wherever he goes? Where is the rest of the town? Yes, Suzanne was polarizing, but still, where is any respect?

Quietly, so I don’t draw attention to myself, I slip from the right set of pews to the left. Someone should be on Jesse’s side, and it’s sad it has to be me.

A door at the front of the church opens, and the pastor walks out from the addition the church build on as a small office ten years ago. I would have thought any pastor assigned to this place would be as ancient as this church. Sort of like an Indiana Jones Knights Templar scenario where he lives forever as long as he stays inside. But no, he’s the youngest pastor from the main, newer church in town. His name is Pastor Hughes, and he’s a thirty-something black man with a fit build who is just cute enough that he should be starring in a movie.

The pastor looks up, and he flinches as if startled. I peek over my shoulder then sigh. Clearly, he’s surprised to see me. Flipping fantastic.

His reaction, and the fact he won’t stop staring, causes every person to turn their heads. Lovely. I’ve had dreams like this where I enter a room and become the center of attention. Only in my dreams it’s at school, it’s my classmates and I’m naked, but still, this is disconcerting.

Eventually, the FB and Jesse’s uncle return their attention to the front, but Jesse doesn’t. He rests his arm on the back of the pew, and it’s hard to ignore that he’s made me his sole focus, but I do my best to act as if I don’t notice.

To help, I concentrate on what my mom taught me as a child—to make sure the skirt of my dress is tucked appropriately so that my thighs don’t show. I then fold my hands in my lap and straighten to a book-on-head posture. I can be the ice princess people claim me to be.

Five pews separate me and Jesse, and it’s not nearly enough. My cheeks burn under his continued inspection. Jesse has done this a handful of times since our freshman year. Glance at me as if I’m someone worth looking at, someone worth laughing with a little too loud and smiling with a little too much. Then he remembers who I am and snaps his gaze to someone else.

But he’s not looking away now.

 

Katie McGarry Bio:

Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan.

Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine’s 2012 Reviewer’s Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

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Muffin Top by Avery Flynn Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

11 Oct

Muffin Top ER Banner.jpeg

“Avery Flynn knocks it out of the park again!”

– Tawna Fenske, USA Today bestselling author

Muffin Top, a hot romantic comedy from USA Today bestselling author Avery Flynn is coming October 29th!

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The only thing about me that’s a size zero is the filter on my mouth. I’ve got a big personality, a big rack, and a big number on the scale. And I’m perfectly fine with that.

But when some random guy suggests I might not be eating alone if I’d ordered a salad instead of a hamburger I’m shocked silent, which is a feat, trust me.

That brings us to one sexy fireman named Frankie Hartigan. He’s hot. He’s funny… And he’s just apologized for being late for our “date” then glared at the fat-shaming jerk. Next thing I know, he’s sitting down and ordering himself dinner.

I have no problem telling him I don’t need a pity date . . . unless of course it’s to my high school reunion next week. Oops where did that last bit come from? And what do I do now that he’s said yes?!

Because this is no make-over story, and I think Frankie is using me for something. I just have to figure out what…

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Excerpt:

The temptation to say “Yes, Frankie, please squash him like a bug while I clap and watch” was so, so strong—like, the guys who pull semi trucks with their teeth strong. Instead, Lucy played along with her best friend’s fiancé’s brother— OMG, that was now the name of her imaginary all-girl ska band—and smiled sweetly up at him.

“He was bothered by my dinner order, honey.”

“Really?” Frankie looked down at her plate, over to the dipshit, and then right at her. There was no missing the devil in his eyes right before he turned his attention back to the other man. “What’s wrong with what my girl’s eating?”

Mr. In Her Business blanched. Literally. The color drained out of his face so fast that he resembled one of those swipe right before and after photos on makeover blogs. How in the hell she managed to not laugh out loud she had no frickin’ clue.

“N-n-nothing,” the man stuttered.

Nope. He was not getting off that easily.

She looked up at Frankie, still standing next to her chair, his big hand braced on the back of it, and said in the clueless voice that anyone with a brain would know meant there was danger ahead, “He said I should have ordered a salad, then I might have a chance to move from a five to an eight. I’m a five because I have great tits.”

Thunderous didn’t begin to describe the dark look of pure vengeance that crossed Frankie’s face, making even the freckles that crossed over the bridge of his nose look scary. Mr. Buttinsky made a little squeaking noise that reminded Lucy of the sound of air coming out of a balloon when someone pulled the tip taut as it was deflating. Frankie took a step forward, menace vibrating off of him in waves. The other guy didn’t bother to say a word, he just took off, weaving his way at a fast clip through the crowded bar and out the front door. Lucy liked to imagine that he peed his pants a little as he did so.

“Thanks, Frankie,” she said to the man still staring at the departing figure of Mr. Peed His Pants. “I owe you one.”

Her ginger knight in well-fitting jeans and a T-shirt made some kind of noise that maybe was a response in the affirmative. It sounded kinda like “no problem.” Whatever. She was used to that from guys. She was only of interest until a hotter, skinnier, or prettier woman came along. It

was the universal fat chick cloaking device.

Determined not to let it annoy her as much as it usually would, she turned back to her jalapeño cheeseburger, spicy fries, and soda. Now she could finally enjoy her dinner in peace.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Frankie clunked down a three-fourths filled mug of beer on the other side of her table, pulled out the chair across from her, and sat down. Before she could even ask what he was doing, he waved the waitress over and told her he wanted whatever Lucy was eating, plus an extra order of fries and another beer. Once she’d left, he turned his attention to Lucy and gave her what could only be described as a vibrator smile. She named it that in her head—thankfully only in her head—because she now had a desperate need for her vibrator and maybe a fresh pack of batteries.

“You’re not gonna make me eat alone now that we’re on a date, are you?” he asked, swiping one of her fries.

About Avery

USA Today bestselling romance author Avery Flynn has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip.

She fell in love with romance while reading Johanna Lindsey’s Mallory books. It wasn’t long before Avery had read through all the romance offerings at her local library. Needing a romance fix, she turned to Harlequin’s four books a month home delivery service to ease the withdrawal symptoms. That worked for a short time, but it wasn’t long before the local book stores’ staffs knew her by name.

Avery was a reader before she was a writer and hopes to always be both. She loves to write about smartass alpha heroes who are as good with a quip as they are with their *ahem* other God-given talents. Her heroines are feisty, fierce and fantastic. Brainy and brave, these ladies know how to stand on their own two feet and knock the bad guys off theirs.

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Connect with Avery

Instagram: @AveryFlynn

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Fetch by AJ Alexander Excerpt Reveal

9 Oct

Find out just how far Cole is willing to go to make Addison beg for him!
Read the following excerpt from Fetch by AJ Alexander which is coming on October 16!!

ADD TO YOUR TBR http://bit.ly/2Coe96w
FOLLOW AJ FOR RELEASE ALERTS http://bit.ly/2xhB11X

BLURB:

Addison is running from a life she never wanted, but a chance meeting with a dog walker could lead her down a path she’d never thought possible.

The last thing Cole expected to find when he knocked on his client’s front door was the answer to every teenage boy’s wet dream.

Now he’s determined to have Addison whether she likes it or not. But when the past comes back to haunt them both, will it destroy any chance they had at happiness?

SIGN UP for a new release alert → http://bit.ly/2OlnGwO

EXCERPT

COLE

I lay on her bed and wait. Watching Addy, with her fingers buried deep in her pussy while calling out my name was beautiful. There are no other words to describe it, just thinking about it once again has me palming my cock through my jeans. I’m going to fuck her into submission, she will be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“How did you get in here?” Addy comes sashing out of the bathroom, her skin glistening in the sunlight. My mouth waters as I think of licking the drops of water from her skin,

“I’m the dog walker, remember?” I hold up my spare key. “Your Aunt gave me a key.”

She turns to head into the closet, I’m assuming to get dressed. “Who said you could get dressed.” I immediately climb off the bed and follow her into the closet. She swings around, freezing me in place with her eyes. If looks could kill, I would be dead right now. Unfortunately, that look has the opposite effect on me than intended. I want her more now than I did yesterday.

“Cole, let’s get one thing straight. We fucked last night, that’s it. Nothing more nothing less. If you think you have any claim over me, your wrong. Do us both a favor and leave me alone.”

She turns around and continues searching for clothes, grabbing her arm I spin her around and use my body to force her backward toward the wall of the closet. My left-hand reaches out, sweeping clothes out the way, so I have space to pin her to the wall with my body. Running my nose along the curve of her neck, I feel a shiver run through her body before I take a bite of her ear.

“I said I wasn’t done with you.” Letting go of her arm, my right-hand rips the towel from between us and I slide my hand down her body. Skimming my finger between her lips, she is already wet for me.

“Your pussy belongs to me now. The sooner you realize that, the better it will be for both of us.” Using my foot, I widen her legs so I can slide my fingers into her hot core. She moans in pleasure as I curl my fingers, brushing against the bundle of nerves that I know will have her seeing stars in no time. Slowly, I pump in and out of her pussy, getting a steady rhythm, as I grind my rock-hard cock into her stomach. Sensing my need, Addy reaches down to unbuckle my jeans and releases my cock. She licks her hand from wrist to the tip of her fingers, before gripping my cock tightly and stroking me in the perfect rhythm.

“Please.” Addy grips my cock tighter in her hand.

“So now you beg for me? I thought it was just a quick fuck, nothing more.” I pull my fingers from her pussy and slip them into my mouth licking them clean.

Releasing her grip on my cock, I see fire in her eyes. “Either fuck me or get out. I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you. Beg me.” I started tucking my cock back into my jeans. I almost whimper in pain as I start to zipper and button them up, I want to pound her pussy into submission, but I don’t beg. I never have and never will, she needs to understand who she belongs too.

“I won’t beg.”

“Well, then you don’t get my cock, darlin’. You know where to find me when you’re ready to admit who your pussy belongs to.”

With a herculean effort, I turn to leave, but before I do, I check the top drawer of her dresser. I originally was looking for another set of panties, but what I found was an even better prize. Right on top, is an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and special lubricants. “I’m taking these with me. The only dick that’s going in that pussy is mine.”

Addy grabs her towel off the floor to cover up with a shocked expression on her face as I gather up all her toys. Closing the drawer with a slam, I grab a bag from the floor, exit the closet, and make my way down the stairs. I only make it half way down before Addy lets out a blood-curdling scream of frustration from the top of the stairs.

“You told her she would have to beg, didn’t you?” Heather ask from her place at the breakfast bar as I make my way through the kitchen to the back door.

“Yup, and I took all of her toys too. She will be begging for me in no time.”

About AJ Alexander

Fluent in sarcasm, Supernatural, and song lyrics, I like talking to people and finding what makes them tick, though that probably has to do with the Psychology degree. I’m up before the sun because my kids don’t sleep, chugging tea and coffee to keep my eyes open and my brain semi functional. Being married to a man in uniform means I’ve lived a lot of places, survived seeing my husband for half the amount of time I’ve been married, and spent a lot of time raising my kids alone.

I love to write messed up psychos with lots of angst, happily ever afters that have to be worked for. Women with sass and backbone, men with a twisted hero complex and the need to control are my favorite to read as well as write.

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Marred: Kyle & Violet by Tess Thompson Excerpt Reveal with Pre-Order Links

17 Sep

Prepare your heart for melting…
Then keep reading for an excerpt from Marred: Kyle & Violet by Tess Thompson!

It will be here September 24th!

PRE. ORDER. NOW.
Amazon → https://amzn.to/2ByJOlx
iBooks → https://apple.co/2vok31x
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2M4WIf0
Nook → http://bit.ly/2MqBzbY

BLURB:

Kyle Hicks started with nothing. Now he’s a self-made man. And as luck would have it, his latest project as a real estate developer lands him in Cliffside Bay with his very best friends, The Dogs. At the end of his grueling work days, Kyle’s got just enough time left for his buddies and not much else. Except maybe another of his many no-strings-attached trysts with whatever sexy lady catches his eye.

Violet Ellis is struggling. She’s a single mother, the proprietor of a near-failing shop, and a champion for the historical integrity of her dear Cliffside Bay. She has enough to deal with between her three-year-old son and her languishing business, but she’s still prepared to take on real estate mogul Kyle Hicks to save the charm of the place she calls home.

When a twist of fate forces these two to put aside their differences and rely on one another, they just might find that sometimes the strongest love grows out of the hurts and the scars that we carry with us always.

The fourth installment of The Cliffside Bay Series by bestselling author Tess Thompson follows the interwoven stories of five best friends, the beach community they love, and the women who captivate them. Prepare to get lost in a wave of small town charm, men you want to take home to your mother, and smart, resilient heroines you wished lived next door.

HERE COMES THE SWOON — YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

“Honor, what can we do to help with the baby?”

“Baby 101, that’s what,” Honor said as they followed her into the elevator. “We had one of the staff go out and get formula and diapers.” She put a keycard into a slot and punched the top floor button.

The elevator moved. Dakota squealed. “Elevator, Mama.”

Violet’s stomach lurched as they came to a stop. They all exited into a hallway. A plush, sage-green carpet felt wonderful under her feet, like walking on a firm mattress. She would love to take off her shoes and let it soothe her tired feet. The scent of lilies from a vase on a rectangular table tickled her nose. Where did he get lilies this time of year? Probably flown in from some third world country for exorbitant amounts of money. None of which trickled down to the poor farmers who grew them.

“Dakota, this is a very special floor,” Honor said. “Kyle’s a part owner so he stays in the very nicest suite in the whole resort.”

“Wow,” Dakota said.

“He’s not Superman,” Violet said under her breath.

Honor shot her a look. “Be nice. You have the power right now.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” Violet said.

“Stop being so grumpy,” Honor said. “Wait until you see this baby. She’s precious. Seriously, you’ll want to eat her up.”

“Eat a baby?” Dakota asked.

“Not really,” Honor said. “It just means she’s yummy. I mean, she’s pretty and I just want to kiss her all over.”

“Oh,” Dakota said. “That’s weird.”

“I have a thing for babies,” Honor said. “What can I say?”

Violet flushed with shame. Honor couldn’t have a baby of her own. Seeing a newborn must hurt. And here was cavalier Kyle Hicks with one just dropped into his lap like everything else in the man’s life.

They reached the door of the suite. Honor didn’t bother to knock; she simply pressed the keycard against the door and entered, gesturing for Violet and Dakota to follow.

“Don’t be loud,” Violet said to Dakota. “The baby might be sleeping.”

Dakota mimicked her finger to her lips and made a shushing sound.

When they entered the suite, Violet had to physically restrain herself from gasping out loud. The suite was magnificent. The same white marble floors as the lobby shone under the light of a chandelier made of sparkling glass. Posh, richly hued furniture in greens and purples, fluffy rugs, and glass tabletops with silver trim were arranged in geometric perfection. Paintings of various bright and vibrant flowers decorated the creamy sage walls. The bank of windows looked out on the entire town of Cliffside Bay, surrounding country roads, forests, and meadows. If it weren’t foggy today, or you would be able to see the endless waters of the Pacific.

She quickly forgot all of that at the sight of Kyle Hicks with a baby in his arms. A spot of sunshine had broken through the gray sky and washed the room and the man in a warm glow. She drew closer, mesmerized. He cradled the baby against his chest and softly sang “You Are My Sunshine.” Kyle Hicks knew a lullaby. Go figure.

About Tess

Like most of her characters, Tess Thompson hails from a small town and will always feel like a small town girl, despite the fact she’s lived in Seattle for over twenty-five years. She loves music and dancing, books and bubble baths, cooking and wine, movies and snuggling. She cries at sappy commercials and thinks kissing in the rain should be done whenever possible. Although she tries to act like a lady, there may or may not have been a few times in the last several years when she’s gotten slightly carried away watching the Seattle Seahawks play, but that could also just be a nasty rumor.

She currently lives in a suburb of Seattle, Washington with her brand new husband, the hero of her own love story, and their Brady Bunch clan of two sons, two daughters and five cats, all of whom keep her too busy, often confused, but always amazed. Yes, that’s four kids and five cats. Pray for her.

Don’t Miss A Single Thing From Tess!
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2x9Ng26
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