Release Blitz: Sacked (A Gridiron Novel Book 1) by Jen Frederick

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Sacked (A Gridiron Novel Book 1) by Jen Frederick

Publication Date: September 6, 2015

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$4.99 Kindle | B&N | Kobo | iBooks

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What he wants he gets…but he’s never met her before.

Knox Masters is a quarterback’s worst nightmare. Warrior. Champion. And…virgin. Knox knows what he wants–and he gets it. All American Football player? Check. NFL pros scouting him? Check. Now, he’s set his sight on two things. The national title. And Ellie Campbell. Sure, she’s the sister of his fellow teammate, but that’s not going to stop him. Especially not when he’s convinced Ellie is the one.

But Ellie isn’t as sure. She’s trying to start a new life and she’s not interested in a relationship…with anyone. Beside it’s not just her cardinal rule of never dating her brother’s teammates that keeps her away, but Ellie has a dark secret that would jeopardize everything Knox is pursuing.

Knox has no intention of losing. Ellie has no intention of giving in.

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Knox

Preseason

I don’t see her until I’m three quarters of the way up the stands. In my defense, the stadium seats over one hundred thousand people, so it’s not until I’m nearing the hundred and fifteenth row that I realize what I thought was a sunspot is actually a person.

Irritation prickles inside my chest. This is my time. Before trainers, field crew, coaches, and other players come in, I run these bleachers in blissful solitude. It’s selfish, but I’ve earned the right to be selfish. As the starting defensive end and captain of the Western State Warriors, I’ve bled on that field, played through immeasurable pain, eaten my share of fake turf. Suffered fucking awful losses. I have a week until the media storm really gears up and It doesn’t seem too much to ask for some privacy.

Now, I have to deal with some stalking gridiron groupie, at six in the morning no less. I thought the jersey chasers didn’t get up before noon. The only woman I want to see is the team nutritionist and her breakfast smoothies.

As I come even with the top row, I can see her more clearly and I’m not so annoyed—or blind—that I can’t admit the intruder is a hot piece. Nice rack under a fitted sport T-shirt and long legs propped up against the seat in front of her. Dark brown hair caught up in a ponytail. She has an athletic look to her, which I’ve always liked.

If I did groupies, she’d be on the top of my list, but I haven’t dipped my wick in those pots ever. I won’t start with her.

 *Excerpt from Sacked by Jen Frederick

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imageJen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.
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SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

$0.99 SALE BLITZ: The Trouble With Love by Lauren Layne

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THE TROUBLE WITH LOVE

Sex, Love & Stiletto’s #4

Lauren Layne

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As Lauren Layne’s salacious Sex, Love & Stiletto series returns, a jaded columnist discovers a steamy way to get over an old flame: falling for him all over again.

As Stiletto magazine’s authority on all things breakup-and-heartache, Emma Sinclair writes from personal experience. Five years ago, Emma was Charlotte, North Carolina’s darling debutante and a blushing bride-to-be. Now she’s the ice queen of the Manhattan dating scene. Emma left her sultry Southern drawl behind, but not even her closest friends know that with it she left her heart. Now Emma’s latest article forces her to face her demons—namely, the devilishly sexy guy who ditched her at the altar.

After giving up everything for a pro-soccer career, Alex Cassidy watches his dreams crumble as a knee injury sidelines him for good. Now he’s hanging up his cleats and giving journalism a shot. It’s just a coincidence that he happens to pick a job in the same field, and the same city, as his former fiancée . . . right? But when Emma moves in next door, it’s no accident. It’s research. And Alex can’t help wondering what might have been. Unlike the innocent girl he remembers, this Emma is chic, sophisticated, and assertive—and she wants absolutely nothing to do with him. The trouble is, Alex has never wanted her more.

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“Emma, a moment?”
Emma looked up from her monitor. She and the other Love & Romance girls had been in their usual pre-lunch “zone.” It was one of the few times of day when they put chatting and gossip aside long enough to get work done.
She pulled off her headphones and looked at Camille. “Um, sure. Now?”
Camille made it a point to meet regularly with all of her senior columnists on a one-on-one basis, but Emma’s scheduled time was Monday afternoon; today was Wednesday. It was never a good sign when their boss went off book.
“It’ll be fast,” Camille said, before her head disappeared from the door.
Emma pulled off the glasses she used when working on the computer and rubbed her eyes. “It won’t be fast. It’s never fast.”
“That’s what she said,” Riley muttered.
“That phrase doesn’t really work in this context, Ri,” Julie said distractedly.
“That phrase always works in any context,” Riley responded.
“Hey, Ems, see if you can get the inside scoop,” Grace said, leaning back in her chair as Emma stood and stretched. “I’m dying to know what the heck this sabbatical is about. Three months?”
“I can’t ask,” Emma said, moving toward the door. “She said it was personal.”
“Right. Which translates to interesting,” Julie said, pulling her hair into a pony.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Emma jabbed a finger toward her laptop. “And don’t touch my edits. I know it was one of you that tried to sneak the word penis into my last headline.”
“Um, yeah. Because you need some penis in your life,” Riley said.
“I’ll have you know that I had some penis in my life . . . last week,” Emma said. “No, last month. Maybe . . .”
Her three friends looked at one another, and although the shared glance was more good-natured than it was poor Emma, it didn’t stop the irritation from rippling through her.
Emma was happy that her friends were all blissed out with their painfully good-looking men. Really. Good for them.
But that didn’t mean they had to lure her into their little club. Emma had tried the happily-ever-after route, and knew that for every woman who rode off into the sunset on a white stallion, another one got kicked in the face by that very same horse.
She’d been there. Done that. Moved on.

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Grab Now for ONLY $0.99

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imageLauren Layne is the USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance.

Prior to becoming an author, Lauren worked in e-commerce and web-marketing. In 2011, she and her husband moved from Seattle to New York City, where Lauren decided to pursue a full-time writing career. It took six months to get her first book deal (despite ardent assurances to her husband that it would only take three). Since then, Lauren’s gone on to publish ten books, including the bestselling Stiletto series, with several more on the way in 2015.

Lauren currently lives in Chicago with her husband and spoiled Pomeranian. When not writing, you’ll find her at happy hour, running at a doggedly slow pace, or trying to straighten her naturally curly hair.

 

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Start the Stiletto Series from the Beginning

 

AFTER THE KISS

KINDLE | NOOK | IBOOKS | KOBO

 

LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH

KINDLE | NOOK | IBOOKS | KOBO

JUST ONE NIGHT

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Stiletto Spin Off:

IRRESISTIBLY YOURS

OXFORD Series #1

Coming October 6th

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Launch Day Blitz: MAKING A PLAY by Victoria Denault

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MAKING A PLAY (Hometown Players Book 2) by Victoria Denault 

Forever Yours E-Book

Publication Date: September 8, 2015

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imageHe’ll do whatever it takes to win—on and off the ice.

Luc Richard is the hottest player in the NHL—and it has nothing to do with hockey. His racy relationship with his supermodel ex set the tabloids on fire but nearly put his career on ice. To avoid being traded, Luc agrees to take a break from the spotlight—and from women—and spend the off-season at home in Silver Bay, Maine. It’s the perfect plan… until he reconnects with Rose.

Rose Caplan is tired of being shy, sweet, and safe. She’s ready for passion, romance—and Luc. Having loved him longer than she can remember, she’s finally ready to prove she’s not the same innocent little girl he once knew. Off the ice Luc doesn’t do games, but this new Rose makes him feel like playing a little dirty. If he’s really got a shot at her heart then he’s not just playing to win. He’s playing for keeps.

IMG_3308$3.99 Kindle | B&N | Kobo | iBooks

 

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Luc is out back when we get there, positioning Adirondack chairs around the crackling firepit. The weather is slightly cool, with a strong breeze off the lake. He’s wearing a black v-neck t-shirt with a pair of beige shorts and a dark plaid shirt tied around his waist. He looks like a hipster model or lead singer for a grunge band from the 90s and as usual, it’s fucking hot.
He smiles welcomingly as we all pile onto his deck, but as his eyes land on me they flare and I swear to God I see a little spark there. The smile vanishes than reappears a little softer, a little darker.
Jordan speaks, breaking the moment into dust. “So! Be a good host and get me a beer.”
“Get it yourself, bitch,” Luc snarks with a smile and Jordan gives him a playful punch on the shoulder as he walks back into the house to retrieve his beer.
He comes out with beers for everyone and we settle in around the fire and start planning. Luc takes notes on his iPad balanced on his knee. We decide which NHL players and alumni to invite, which weekend to have the event, when to put tickets on sale and what to sell them for. But with every detail that’s decided comes a bigger list of everything that needs to get done, and Luc’s sexy face starts to turn into a grimace of stress. And the one thing none of us can help him with is picking the cause.
“It has to come from you, bro,” Jordan says. “You have to pick something that really means something to you.”
He nods and I catch a glimpse of his tongue resting on his bottom lip as he thinks and I feel that hot tingle of lust between my thighs. I shift in my chair.
“I have to think about that one,” he admits and his voice is low, like it’s some kind of failure.
Jordan gets up to grab another beer and Jessie leaves to use the bathroom. I lean over from my chair and place a hand on his. “It’s okay. We can book the venue and the arena and figure out the cause after. You’ve got a little time.”
He smiles at me gratefully and then he glances down. He runs his fingers over my forearm. “You’ve got goose bumps.”
He stands up and unties the plaid shirt from his waist and then walks around my chair and drapes it across my shoulders. He rubs them gently as he places it there and leans down to whisper in my ear. “You look beautiful tonight, Fleur.”
I tip my head and gaze up at him. KISS ME! I silently beg him. Jessie comes bouncing down the deck stairs and Luc pulls away and the moment disappears into the dark night.
Still, I feel a little flutter of victory inside my heart. There was a glimmer of something in those light brown eyes that I’ve never seen directed at me before. He looked at me like I was something new he hadn’t seen before. Something special. Something desirable. I swear it’s not just wishful thinking.
After two and a half hours of planning and an hour of just goofing off we call it a night. As we drive home Jessie keeps giving me curious glances in the rear view mirror. There’s a smirk on her lips and I know she’s got something to say so when we get inside the house and Jordan heads into the living room I stop her in the kitchen. “Say it.”
“What?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking.”
She smiles again. “I’m thinking that you’re making a play for Luc.”
I feel defiant and self-conscious at the same time and can’t seem to look her in the eye. “So? Is that bad? And… is it that obvious?”
She shakes her head, auburn hair swinging. “Not incredibly obvious but I know you and normally you’d leave the house in overalls and a sweatshirt for a night drinking beers in someone’s backyard.”
I blush, embarrassed at having my plan exposed, and she walks over and gives me a hug. “All I have to say is good for you.”
“Really?”
“Rosie, it’s now or never,” she tells me giving me a tight squeeze before pulling back and holding my by the shoulders. “You’ve finished college and you’re trying to figure out your future and I’ve known forever that you see Luc in your future. So take the shot. See if it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you can move forward without wondering.”
She walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water and then heads towards the living room. She stops in the archway and smiles at me encouragingly. “For the record, Rose. I think it’s going to work.”
I drop down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Oh God, I hope she’s right.

imageVictoria Denault loves long walks on the beach, cinnamon dolce lattes and writing angst-filled romance. She lives in LA but grew up in Montreal, which is why she is fluent in English, French and hockey.

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Social Media Links: WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreads

Feature & Giveaway: Crosstown Crush: A Sins in the City Novel by Cara McKenna

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Crosstown Crush
A Sins In the City Novel
by Cara McKenna

Publication Date: September 1, 2015

Genre: Erotica Romance

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Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Penguin All Stores

Add to Goodreads

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The first in a new series from the “wicked-hot”* author of Hard Time and Give It All explores the fantasies of a daring married couple—and those of a stranger invited to play along in their scandalous little games… When he’s working, Mike Heyer is all business—every inch the alpha male, with the hard, capable body to back up his persona. But at home he can be a different man entirely, harboring appetites only his wife gets to glimpse…

When Samira first learned of her husband’s fantasies, she was reluctant, even alarmed. But after witnessing the way they set him on fire, she yielded, and happily indulged. As their games have intensified, so has the rush. And now so has the risk—they’re poised to take Mike’s indecent desires to the next level, by opening their bed to a sexy, brazen stranger. A man seeming custom-made to grant every last one of Mike and Samira’s sinful wishes.

Welcoming someone new into their lives was always a dangerous proposition, but the couple imagined if anything was at stake, it was their privacy…not their hearts.

*New York Times Bestselling Author Jaci Burton

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CROSSTOWN CRUSH by Cara McKenna
PG-13 Excerpt

She headed for the bustling bar, and oh fuck, there he was.
Bern.
He’d told her what he’d be wearing, but it was his face she recognized. Funny how accurate her mental picture had been, based on only that one snapshot. She slowed to a halt, her stomach plummeting to her feet, the room feeling like an elevator with a snapped cable.
Be cool, kid. You’re a shameless slut tonight, and don’t you forget it.
She blew out a tense breath and kept on walking.
Bern’s picture had attracted her, but he was so much . . . more, in three dimensions. Even seated on a stool, she could tell he was big. Big and substantial, with long legs and a strong, handsome profile. His hair was as messy as in the photo, tucked behind his ears, black in the low light of the bar. That picture must have been taken at the height of summer, as his complexion was fairer than she’d expected. A modest beard covered his jaw, neither wild nor fussy. He looked rugged and capable, as though he’d just come from the woods, doing something obscenely manly. Or that was what Sam’s libido decided.
She swallowed, throat feeling thick. He was as sexy as any guy she’d covertly checked out during the girls-only cocktail dates, casting her fake flings. Sexier. A pang of pleasurable guilt warmed her skin.
Sexy and punctual.
Move aside, Nick.
Bern turned as she approached, and she thrilled at the recognition that flashed across his face. His smile was the perfect mix of mischief and shyness, so exactly what she felt, herself.
There were no free stools, giving Bern a chance to bank some chivalry points and kick off his role as smooth-talking, seductive stranger. He stood as she reached the bar. Sam kept her attention on the taps as though she were deliberating.
“Here,” he said, patting the stool.
“Are you sure?”
“Please.” He grabbed his half-drunk glass of beer and stepped back so she could have a seat. She sat with her back to the bar, crossing her legs. Just as her single self might’ve done if a handsome, actual stranger approached her, she kept her purse in her lap to camouflage any unflattering business her snug jeans might be doing to her belly. Huh. Twenty-five again, indeed. She hadn’t felt this self-conscious in years.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.” Oh, he was tall. Taller than her husband, perhaps six two to Mike’s five eleven, meeting one point of his criteria. As promised, he wore a plain gray T-shirt, and beneath it she could make out the contours of his chest and shoulders, trim and powerful as his bare arms. She liked the soft-looking hair there, the shapes of the fingers wrapped around his glass.
I could totally bang this guy if I wanted. Crazy. And did she want that? For herself, as much as for Mike . . . ?
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Sure. Cabernet, please.”
He came close, leaning between her and the next seat to get the bartender’s attention. She studied the silver streaked at his temples and peppering his facial hair and nearly swooned right off her perch. His eyes were blue, but not bright like Mike’s. More a stormy sea than a summer sky. Breathing him in, she found no cologne, just the faint but distinct smell of a new man, a scent you couldn’t buy at Sephora. He ordered her wine and told the bartender to add it to his tab, his voice twice as rich and deep and thrilling as it had been on the phone.
For a split second Sam felt busted, realizing Mike was watching her checking Bern out. But busted was the name of the game.
Bern passed her a dangerously large glass of red and stepped back, tucking a thumb in his front pocket and sipping his beer. His thigh was only a couple inches from her crossed knees, and she wondered how warm he’d feel through their two pairs of jeans.
“On your own tonight?” he asked.
She nodded. “You, too?”
“Yeah. My name’s Bern.” He freed his hand to shake hers. And what a shake—firm and warm and solid. She wished Mike could have felt it, too. Meet the man I might just want to fuck while you watch.
“I’m Samira. Sam’s fine.” And she stalled.
Oh shit, what were they going to talk about? But wait, they had plenty to talk about. It wasn’t as though Mike could read lips. They were free to drop the act and he’d still get to pretend they were just meeting.
She offered Bern a familiar smile. “Are you nervous?”
His posture changed, visibly relaxing, and he smiled back. The gesture made him an entirely different kind of sexy. The warm and easy kind of man that you wanted sitting across from you at a diner, versus the wicked one you wanted to take you home from a bar. “A little nervous,” he admitted. “How about you?”
She nodded. “I was terrified, up until I saw you.”
“Worried that photo was from the seventies and I was really some retiree with no teeth and overgrown fingernails?”
“Well, no, but you know . . . Anyway. You’re a very pleasant surprise.” A very, very, very pleasant surprise.
“So are you. You’re even cuter when you’re not blurry.”
She laughed. “I hope you hadn’t worried I was trying to hide anything. I just didn’t want to use a photo that anyone could pick me out of a lineup from.”
“Of course.”
He stepped closer so they could talk without being overheard in the din, and his leg brushed hers, sending a bolt of energy up her thigh to settle in her belly.
“I’m guessing you’re not from Pittsburgh any more than I am,” she said.
He laughed softly, a warm, airy chuckle that raised the bar’s temperature by five degrees. “Whatever gave me away? But you’re right—I’m from Kentucky. Raised in a tiny little farm town about halfway between Louisville and Nashville.”
“That must’ve been a culture shock, when you moved.”
“At first, but I love it here. I’ve always been a city boy at heart.”
“I bet I wouldn’t last an hour out in the country . . . Thanks for coming out of your way,” she added.
He waved the thought aside as he took a taste of his beer. “Drive took me ten minutes. And I’ll say this—you’re the most interesting date I’ve had in ages.”
“I’ll bet. Have you not met anyone for what you’d gone on that site for, originally?” she asked, meaning his exhibitionist streak.
“I quit looking, after you and I started talking. It was getting discouraging. There’s so few women on there, looking for that kind of thing. And I didn’t even really know how to roll it out without sounding like a perv. I think it’s sort of a lost cause. I got a hundred and one replies from so-called women, wanting to watch me . . . you know. On a webcam. But I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She frowned her sympathy. “You’d probably have better luck finding an open-minded steady girlfriend.”
“I know. But I ended a long-term thing this past winter. Not really ready for anything serious yet.”
Another point for Bern, that he’d had a grown-up, normal-person relationship. More proof that he was just as new to all this kinky stuff as they were.
Still, the topic wasn’t spurring their chemistry, and she knew there was a man sitting ten yards away, who was itching to see some physical boundaries bent. And they were hers to bend, as Bern couldn’t be expected to make the first move, not with somebody’s husband watching him.
So Sam uncrossed her legs, letting the instep of her high heel brush his calf.
He took the hint and stepped closer, his knees just breaching the V of her thighs.
Intruder, she beamed to Mike. Intruder between your wife’s legs. However barely.
Bern stooped a little to say, “I’m not nervous at all anymore.” His tone was dark, not particularly innocent. The shadow of a smile played just behind his lips, and Sam imagined kissing him. She could now, if she wanted to. He wanted it, she thought, and her body did as well. It was only her brain that needed a push. She took a deep swallow of her wine.
“I’m still a little nervous,” she admitted. “But it’s nice.”

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Paperback Copy

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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imageCara McKenna writes smart erotica—sexy stories with depth. A little dark, a little funny, always emotional. She also writes red-hot romance under the name Meg Maguire. Her wonderful publishers are Harlequin Blaze, Penguin / InterMix, Samhain, and Signet Eclipse. She loves writing sexy, character-driven stories about strong-willed men and women who keep each other on their toes, and bring one another to their knees.

Before becoming a purveyor of red-hot romance and smart erotica, Cara was a record store bitch, a lousy barista, a decent designer, and an over-enthusiastic penguin handler.

Cara now writes full-time and lives in the Pacific Northwest with her bearded husband and baby son. When she’s not trapped in her own head she can usually be found in the kitchen, the coffee shop, or jogging around the nearest duck-filled pond. Cara is a very proud member of the Romance Writers of America®. She is a 2015 RITA® Award finalist, a 2014 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award winner, a 2013 and 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee, and a 2010 Golden Heart® finalist.

Social Media Links: Website | Twitter | Goodreads

Release Blitz: RULE (The Corruption Series Books 3) by CD Reiss

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Antonio and Theresa live or die together in this epic, full-length conclusion to the Songs of Corruption series!

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image Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1PEFbCc
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1BS51k5
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1SZphEY
iBooks: http://apple.co/1IsIjeP
B&N: http://bit.ly/1KTpeEz

image https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KdsJCQyMWE&feature=youtu.be

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IMG_3306Book Three in The Corruption Series. You must read SPIN and RUIN before reading RULE!

Theresa and Antonio.

They’ve been through hell. Antonio has a price on his head for turning his back on a marriage deal, and Theresa has no intention of turning her back on him. They’re devoted and strong, ready for anything….

A Love Tested To The Limit

And then, someone from Antonio’s past reappears. Someone who can give him everything he ever wanted, and who can shake them to their very core.

#livetogether

#dietogether

In this stunning conclusion to the USA Today Bestselling series, Antonio and Theresa will have their passion, their devotion and their very will to live tested.

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SPIN (Book One)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PEF5dR
iBooks: http://apple.co/1EoPKsy
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1hKJrpt
B&N: http://bit.ly/1JD4UX6

Ruin (Book Two)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PEF75l
B&N: http://bit.ly/1NFuRwi
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1KTpcfU
iBooks: http://apple.co/1EoPmu1

Rule (Book Three)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PEFbCc
iBooks: http://apple.co/1IsIjeP
B&N: http://bit.ly/1KTpeEz

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imageCD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon 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 embed TV story structure in her head well enough for her to take a big risk on a TV series structured erotic series called Songs of Submission. It’s about a kinky billionaire hung up on his ex-wife, an ingenue singer with a wisecracking mouth; art, music and sin in the city of Los Angeles.

Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to give the toilets a once-over every couple of weeks or chop a cord of wood.

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

Stalk Her: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Goodreads | Pinterest | Intagram

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Pre-Order Blitz: Mischief Under the Mistletoe: Holiday Hotties Just Waiting To Be Unwrapped

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Mischief Under the Mistletoe: Holiday Hotties Just Waiting To Be Unwrapped 

Nineteen contemporary holiday hotties, just waiting to be unwrapped from your favorite NY Times, USA Today, Amazon Bestselling, and Award Winning Authors. This anthology won’t last long. Grab it while it’s HOT!

imageAmazon US: http://amzn.to/1LwTHOe
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1fCHBF1
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1NQIuFV
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UZ8AdV
iBooks: http://apple.co/1JblRsq
Nook: http://bit.ly/1NDf7Jb

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Facebook Pre-order Party 8/25/2015

Click to join in on the Thunderclap

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Mischief Under the Mistletoe Box Set Includes:

 Kristin Miller – The Bad Boy Meets his Match
When lingerie-store owner Cora Brennan plans a getaway at a quaint mountain retreat, she never expects to reunite with the playboy she spent a memorable night with in college. Can they finally admit their true feelings for each other before love is lost to them again?

Claudy Conn – Collide & Burn
Charlie knows when she first sees Wade Devon that he is trouble. Wade likes to win. It is what he does and he wants her…no strings attached. She has to ask herself, should she, or shouldn’t she.

Melanie James – Snowflakes, Exes, and Ohs
With two men vying for her affection, Abbie’s heart is torn between the two. One has always been there for her, no matter what. The other left when she needed him the most.

Mindy Klasky – Fly Me to the Moon
Lexi thinks she’s recovered from the fire that burned her years ago. But when she falls for PTSD-ridden army veteran Finn, she learns how deep some scars can be.

Holly S. Roberts – Ruck
Van, one of the best players in rugby and the hottest player between the sheets is looking for a holiday miracle. His brother won the girl and Van’s heart is broken. Could the gift of a lifetime be his for the taking or will this bad boy ruck it up again?

Stephanie Rowe – Wrapped Up In You
Can the Christmas magic of a coastal Maine island heal two broken souls when a winter storm strands them together?

Diane Rinella – It’s A Marshmallow World
One Christmas, Darla was given a mystical gift, along with an ominous message. Years later, meeting Chris puts her head in a spin. Could it be that gift from long ago holds the key to their happiness?

Kate Angell – Snow One Like You
A Vermont Christmas Eve blizzard forces Allie to close Hartley’s General Store. Her best friend Rhys arrives by snowmobile, not wanting her to endure the snowstorm alone. A playful kiss under the mistletoe warms more than their hearts.

Kimberly Kincaid – Play Me
Sophie Drayton has seen enough of the wild life to know that Emilio Barrett is bad news. But the sexy stripper has secrets of his own. Will Sophie’s past come back to haunt her, or will Emilio prove that a bad boy can be also be a good man?

J.D.Tyler – One Last Miracle
After a case gone horribly wrong, FBI Agent Mark McClendon retreats to his late grandfather’s isolated cabin, determined to escape his pain. He’s completely unprepared to find himself falling for his pretty new neighbor–but when the past comes gunning for him, Mark’s newfound love may mean the difference between a second tragedy and a holiday miracle.

Robin Covington – When You Open Your Eyes
War tore Gabe and Ellie apart and three years later, he’s almost given up any hope that she’ll come back to him. When she returns just before the holidays, he wants nothing more for the damaged, stubborn woman he loves to stay forever but she’s ready to run as soon as the gifts are opened. Chased by her nightmares, Gabe’s only hope of keeping Ellie is to convince her that he’ll be there when she opens her eyes.

Suzanne Ferrell- Close To The Mistletoe
When teacher Holly Murphy walks into Westen’s only bar to help her friend celebrate a divorce, she doesn’t expect hot carpenter Nick Fisher to save her from an embarrassing situation. His heated kisses awakens something deep inside her, but when someone sets his sights on Holly, will Nick be the one to protect her close to the mistletoe?

Kathy Ivan – Yours For The Holidays
At her hospital’s annual Bachelor Auction, event organizer, Dr. Alanna Reeves, is blindsided when the tables are turned and Blake Donovan offers a huge donation–for her! Can a trip to Florida for the holidays help them discover their true feelings or drive them apart forever?

Selena Laurence – Prince of the Press
Marcus Ambrose, the newest face in political media, is one hot ticket. But when he meets his brother’s down-to-earth secretary Renee, his own heart takes a knock. Can Marcus’s famous ‘full-court press’ convince the woman of his dreams to take a shot at love?

Jennie Marts – Worth the Shot
Addison Cavanaugh had one rule: Do not date hockey players. So kissing the newest trade to her dad’s team should have been off-limits–even if he is hot enough to melt the ice. Is the new player worth the shot or is she is risking her heart in a game she can’t possibly win?

Teri Riggs – Finding True’s Love
Six months after True’s last boss viciously attacked her, she’s ready to take her therapist’s advice and go back into the work force. She wants her life to be normal again and working for another man will be a giant step towards that goal. Nick has been betrayed by a pretty face for the last time and has sworn off relationships. Or so he thought until the day his new assistant, True Kelly, walked into his office.

Jennifer Theriot – Unwrapping Noel
Noel Calabrese hates Christmas as much as she hates her life. While in the Napa Valley on a business trip, she meets Leon Hallas. Could this sexy, silver fox be her ticket to happiness?

MJ Fredrick – Bluestone Christmas
Come back to Bluestone, Minnesota for Christmas, where single mom Willow Branson has moved from Texas to make a home with her daughter. But moving from a Texas winter to a Minnesota one is more challenging than she expected, and handsome handyman Chase Granzer is more than happy to help her adapt…and keep her warm.

Deb Julienne – All I Want For Christmas
Rafe Donnelly hates everything to do with the holidays. Ali Sanders is a single mother, juggling two jobs and missing most of her son’s childhood. Who knew a little boy’s Santa wish could change so many lives?

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Spotlight, Guest Post & Giveaway: TREAMINE’S TRUE LOVE by Grace Burrowes

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What makes a man a gentleman?

For a romance writer, this question has to be answered in every book, because implicit in the term “hero” is something of the gentleman. Heroes need not be charming, handsome or wealthy, and they might not even be obviously heroic, at least at the start of the book, but they have to be worthy of our loyalty for the duration of an entire book.

In the True Gentlemen series, I took three men who’d wandered across my pages in previous stories—Tremaine St. Michael, Daniel Banks, and Willow Dorning—and found them each a happily ever after. Tremaine is a flinty business man, Daniel is poor and pious, Willow finds polite society an enormous trial and would far rather be with his dogs. These fellows were not obvious choices as romance heroes, but they each had something that tempted me to write stories for them.

When we met Tremaine in an earlier book (Gabriel: Lord of Regrets), Tremaine was convinced that he’d found a good candidate for the position of wife. He offered marriage, listing all the practical advantages to both parties, and he congratulated himself on how much sense his proposed union would make.

The lady turned him down flat, and as a gentleman is bound to do, he graciously ceded the field. He didn’t like it, he didn’t entirely understand how or what he’d lost, but he wished the happy couple well.

Daniel’s role in David: Lord of Honor was to charge to London with sermons at the ready in an attempt to restore his sister’s honor. The very man Daniel accused of wronging that sister had already set her back on the path to respectability.

Oops. But again, being a gentleman, Daniel wishes the couple every happiness, even if doing so costs him the future he’d envisioned for himself and his loved ones. Like Tremaine, he’s a gracious and even dignified loser.

Willow’s appearance in Worth: Lord of Reckoning is brief, but he too is determined to see a sister rescued from a possibly compromising position, and again, rescue is simply not on the heroine’s agenda.

In all three cases, the true gentleman acts in the best interests of those he loves and is responsible for, regardless of the inconvenience or cost to himself. Because Tremaine, Daniel, and Willow were honorable, I liked them. I trusted them, I wanted them to have the happiness they clearly already deserved.

In the Nicholas Haddonfield’s sisters—Nita, Kirsten, and Susannah—I found ladies willing to oblige my ambitions for these men. In each case, our hero has lessons yet to learn, and in each case, his inherent honor wins the day. He might not be handsome, wealthy, or charming in the eyes of the world, but because he’s a true gentleman in the eyes of his lady, he wins her true love.

I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them!

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Title: Tremaine’s True Love
Author: Grace Burrowes

Release Date: August 4, 2015

Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Genre: Historical Romance

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He’s had everything he could ever want…until now

Wealthy wool magnate Tremaine St. Michael is half French, half Scottish, and all business. He prowls the world in search of more profits, rarely settling in one place for long. When he meets practical, reserved Lady Nita Haddonfield, he sees an opportunity to mix business with pleasure by making the lady his own.

Nita Haddonfield has a meaningful life tending to others, though nobody is dedicated to caring for Nita. She insists the limitations of marriage aren’t for her, then Tremaine St. Michael arrives-protective, passionate, and very, very determined to win Nita’s heart.

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Wealthy businessman Tremaine St. Michael has concluded that marriage to Lady Nita Haddonfield would be a prudent merger of complimentary interests for the mutual benefit and enjoyment of both parties… or some such blather.

Tremaine rapped on Lady Nita’s door, quietly, despite a light shining from beneath it. Somebody murmured something which he took for permission to enter.

“Mr. St. Michael?”

Tremaine stepped into her ladyship’s room, closed the door behind him and locked it, which brought the total of his impossibly forward behaviors to several thousand.

“Your ladyship expected a sister, or a maid with a pail of coal?”

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Lady Nita sat near the hearth in a blue velvet dressing gown. The wool stockings on her feet were thick enough to make a drover covetous. “Are you unwell, Mr. St. Michael?”

“You are not pleased to see me.” Did she think illness the only reason somebody would seek her out?

She set aside some pamphlet, a medical treatise, no doubt. No vapid novels for Lady Nita.

“I was not expecting you, sir.”

“You were not expecting me to discuss marriage with you earlier. I wasn’t expecting the topic to come up in a casual fashion either. May I sit?”

She waved an elegant hand at the other chair flanking the hearth. Tremaine settled in, trying to gather his thoughts while the firelight turned Lady Nita’s braid into a rope of burnished gold.

“You are pretty.” Brilliant place to start. The words had come out, heavily burred, something of an ongoing revelation.

“I am tall and blond,” she retorted, twitching the folds her of her robe. “I have the usual assortment of parts. What did you come here to discuss?”

Lady Nita was right, in a sense. Her beauty was not of the ballroom variety, but rather, an illumination of her features by characteristics unseen. She fretted over new babies, cut up potatoes like any crofter’s wife, and worried for her sisters. These attributes interested Tremaine. Her madonna-with-a-secret smile, keen intellect, and longing for laughter attracted him.

Even her medical pre-occupation, in its place, had some utility as well.

“Will you marry me, my lady?”

More brilliance. Where had his wits gone? George Haddonfield had graciously pointed out that Nita needed repose and laughter, and Tremaine was offering her the hand of the most restless and un-silly man in the realm.

The lady somehow contained her incredulity, staring at her hands. “You want to discuss marriage?”

“I believe I did just open that topic. Allow me to elaborate on my thesis: Lady Bernita Haddonfield, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I think we would suit, and I can promise you would know no want in my care.”

A proper swain would have been on his damn bended knee, the lady’s hand in his. Lady Nita would probably laugh herself to tears if Tremaine attempted that nonsense. Lady Nita picked up her pamphlet, which Tremaine could now see was written in German.

“Why, Mr. St. Michael?”

“I beg your pardon?” Tremaine was about to pitch the damned pamphlet in the fire, until he recalled that Nita Haddonfield excelled at obscuring her stronger emotions.

“Why should you marry me, Tremaine St. Michael? Why should I marry you? I’ve had other offers, you’ve made other offers. You haven’t known me long enough to form an opinion of my character beyond the superficial.”

This ability to take a situation apart, into causes, effects, symptoms, and prognosis was part of the reason she was successful as a healer. Tremaine applied the same tendencies to commercial situations, so he didn’t dismiss her questions as coyness or manipulation.

She wasn’t rejecting him either. She most assuredly was not rejecting him.

***

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Kindle | Amazon PBK | B&N | KoboiBooks

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imageNew York Times and USA Today bestselling author Grace Burrowes’ bestsellers include The Heir, The Soldier, Lady Maggie’s Secret Scandal, Lady Sophie’s Christmas Wish and Lady Eve’s Indiscretion. Her Regency romances have received extensive praise, including starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Booklist. Grace is branching out into short stories and Scotland-set Victorian romance with Sourcebooks. She is a practicing family law attorney and lives in rural Maryland.

Social Media Links: WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreads

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Release Day Blitz: Cocky Bastard By Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

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COCKY BASTARD

(A Contemporary Romance standalone novel)

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Authors Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

RELEASE DATE: August 17th, 2015

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Kindle http://amzn.to/1JbVB4H
iTunes http://apple.co/1PffE2J
Kobo http://bit.ly/1UxCSUO
B&N http://bit.ly/1EjxNpY

Add Cocky Bastard to your TBR list on Goodreads!
http://bit.ly/1LzjOng

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He was someone who belonged in my wildest fantasies instead of a rest stop in the middle of Nebraska.

A sexy, cocky, Australian named Chance was the last person I expected to run into on my cross-country drive.

When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours.

My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense.

I wanted him, but Chance wouldn’t make a move. I thought he wanted me too, but something was holding him back.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the cocky bastard, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

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This is an Exclusive Sneak Peek of
COCKY
BASTARD

I wondered if the vibration would feel good between my legs.
The sun caught the chrome of a Harley Davidson parked a few spots over, gleaming in the sweltering midday sun. I waited until Maroon Five finished playing on the radio, oddly fixated on the two-wheeled-man-toy as I fished in my purse for my cell phone. The motorcycle was simple—high gloss black and shiny silver, worn leather saddlebags with a skull embossed below the initials C.B.
How good would it feel to ride? Wind blowing through my long hair, arms wrapped around a man with a tough sounding nickname, engine purring beneath my jean clad thighs. Horse? Drifter? Guns? Wait. No. Pres. My imaginary biker was most definitely called Pres. And he’d look just like Charlie Hunnam.
I glanced down at my iPhone and found a half dozen new messages from Harrison. Inwardly, I smirked. Certainly, there is no one named Harrison that ever rode a Harley. Tossing my phone back in my bag, I cut the engine of my packed BMW and glanced behind me into the backseat. Boxes piled to the ceiling were beginning to make my full-size car feel claustrophobic.
A bus full of travelers pulled into the rest stop. Great. I’d better go in now and get my lunch, otherwise I’d never get out of here. Ten hours into a cross-country trip from Chicago to Temecula, California, I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska with about another twenty some odd hours to go.
After a fifteen-minute wait inside for Pepsi and Popeyes fried chicken bites that I planned to eat back in the car, I stopped into the small souvenir shop. I was so tired and didn’t really feel like driving the additional five hours I had to go before finding a place to sleep for the night. Yawning, I decided to stall and browse for a few minutes. Checking out some trinkets, I eventually picked up a Barack Obama bobblehead and shook it mindlessly, watching its maniacal smile as the head bounced up and down.
“Get it. You know you want it,” a deep, raspy voice said from behind my shoulders. Startling me, it caused a knee-jerk reaction that resulted in the bobblehead slipping from my fingers and falling to the ground. The head broke off of the spring neck and rolled away.
The woman at the register shouted, “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to pay for that. Twenty dollars.”
“Damn it!” I spewed, following the path of the rolling head. As I bent down to pick it up, there was the voice again from behind me.
“And to think, some people say he’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He seemed to have an Australian accent.
“You think this is funny, asshole?” I asked before turning around and getting my first look at the man behind the voice.
I froze.
Oh. Shit.
“You don’t need to be a fucking bitch about it.” His mouth curved into a wicked grin as he handed me the bottom half of Obama. “And for the record, I did think that was really funny, yes.”
I swallowed and seemed to lose my ability to speak as I took in the Adonis standing before me. I wanted to smack that cocky smile right off his face, though—his gorgeous, chiseled, scruffy face, framed by a thick head of copper-brown hair. Fuck me. This man was insanely hot, not someone I expected to come across out here. This was the middle of nowhere USA, not the Australian outback for Christ’s sake.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn’t think it was funny at all.”
“Then, you need to take the stick out of your arse and lighten up.” He reached out his hand. “Give it to me, Princess. I’ll pay for the damn thing.” Before I could respond, he grabbed the two broken pieces from me, and I cursed at the shiver that ran down my spine from the brief contact of his hand brushing against mine. Of course, he had to smell amazing on top of it all.
I followed him to the register as I fished through my messy purse for money, but he was too quick and had paid for it already.
He handed me a plastic bag containing the broken bobblehead. “There’s some change in the bag. Buy yourself a sense of humor.”
HUE-MA. That accent.
My jaw dropped as he walked away and out of the store.
What an ass.
It was. A fine one. A thick, juicy, round ass hugged tightly by his jeans. God, I really needed to get laid, because it didn’t seem to matter that this guy had just insulted me to my face; my panties were practically wet.
After several minutes of staring into space at a shelf of Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirts, I gave myself a mental kick in the butt. My reaction to the incident proved that fatigue had gotten the best of me; I wasn’t usually that short-tempered. It was time to shake off the bizarre encounter and get moving. My stomach was growling, and I was looking forward to breaking into the fried chicken once I hit the road. I snuck a piece out of the box in my bag as I walked out of the building. My chewing ceased when I noticed him two spots down from my car—sitting on the very motorcycle I’d been fantasizing about earlier.
Approaching slowly, I hoped he didn’t notice me. No such luck. Instead, when he spotted me, he flashed an exaggerated smile and waved.
Frantically searching for my keys, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You again.”
He snickered. “Did you end up buying a sense of humor?”
“I used the change to buy you some couth instead.”
Chuckling, he shook his head at me. Running his hand through his hair, he put his shiny black helmet on and cranked the Harley. The rumble shook me to my core.
Getting in the car and slamming the door, I couldn’t help taking one last look over at him, seeing as though I’d never see this guy again in my lifetime. He winked through the helmet, and my pathetic heart fluttered.
I watched through the rear view mirror as he backed out of the spot. I expected him to take off like a bat out of hell, but after moving away slowly, he abruptly stopped. He kept trying to rev the bike to get it to move, but nothing was happening. Eventually turning off the engine, he removed his helmet and ran his hand through his hair in frustration before getting off to inspect things. I should have just left, but couldn’t take my eyes off him as he struggled to get it to run. Man, that sucks.
I dipped one of the chicken bites into the honey mustard sauce and popped it into my mouth, continuing to watch this like a spectator sport for several minutes. At one point, he took out his phone and made a phone call as he paced back and forth.
Putting his phone away, he looked in my direction and glared at me. Caught in the act of watching him, I let out a nervous laugh. I didn’t mean to laugh at the situation, but it just came out. He raised his brow, and that made me cackle harder. He slowly walked toward me, clutching the helmet by his side. He knocked on my window, and I lowered it.
“You think this is funny, Princess?”
“Not really…maybe.” I snorted.
“Well, I’m glad you finally managed to find your sense of humor.”
HUE-MA.
God, his accent was sexy.
He arched his neck to look into the backseat and took notice of all the boxes. “You homeless or something? Living out of your car?”
“No. I’m in the middle of a cross-country move.”
“Where you headed?”
“Temecula.”
“California.” He nodded. “Me, too.”
I looked toward his Harley. “Well, it looks like you’re not exactly headed anywhere anytime soon. I guess it’s payback for calling me a bitch.”
“Well, that would seem to be the case.”
“That it’s payback?”
“No, that you’re a bitch.”
“Very funny.”
“You know what’s even better than payback?” he asked leaning into the window, his cologne intoxicating me.
“What?”
He wiggled his brows. “Karma.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come around and have a look at the back of your Beemer.”
BEE-MA.
I got out and walked around to the back of my car to find my right rear tire was completely flat.
What? This cannot be happening.
With my hand on my forehead, I looked over at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? Did you know my tire was flat all this time?”
“I noticed it right around the time I caught you popping chicken and laughing at me, yes. It was real hard for me to keep a straight face at that point.”
I didn’t know how to change a tire to save my life. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask of him.
“Do you know how to change a tire?”
“Of course I do. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t know how to change a tire?”
“Will you help me? I know you have no reason to want to…after our little altercation, but I’m seriously desperate. I don’t want to be stuck out here all alone at night.”
“Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay…”
He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “How badly do you want your tire changed?”
I backed away from him. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart. I’m not fucking propositioning you if that’s what you think. You’re not my type.”
“And what exactly is your type?”
“I typically go for women who don’t have the personality of a door knob.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“So, what are your conditions?”
“Well, as you clearly know from your laughing fit, my Harley is experiencing a technical malfunction at the moment. It needs a part that I don’t have. I just called a tow company. But I’m on a deadline, and like you, I need to get to California.”
“You’re not suggesting…”
“Yes. Yes, I am. If I change your tire, you let me ride with you.”
“Ride with me?”
“Ride me, yes.”
“What did you just say?”
“You’re hearing things.”
I shook my head to rid the images now flashing through it. Did my tired mind only imagine that he just said that, or was he messing with me?
“I cannot drive hundreds of miles with a total stranger,” I said.
“It’s a fuck of a lot safer than driving alone.”
“Not if you’re a serial killer!”
“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who decapitated a U.S. president.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was seriously insane.
“Holy shit, Princess, is that a laugh at your own expense, I see?”
“I think you’re making me delirious.”
He stuck out his hand. “So, you in?”
I crossed my arms instead of taking it. “What choice do I have?”
“Well, you could always have him change your tire.” He gestured to a large and scary-looking man who seemed to be watching us. This guy looked like Herman Munster in the flesh.
Letting out a deep breath, I conceded. “I’m in. I’m in! Just get me out of here.”
“I thought you might say that. Please tell me you have a spare.”
“Yeah. But I have to move some of my boxes so you can get to it.”
He started to crack up when he got a load of the situation inside my trunk. “Damn, what the hell is all this crap?”
I looked into his eyes and answered honestly, “My entire life.”
I temporarily piled the contents of the trunk onto the pavement. He got the spare out and immediately got to work.
As he was changing the tire, his white t-shirt rode up, exposing his tanned, rock-hard abs and a thin trail of hair that ran into his underwear line. Unwanted tension built between my legs. I needed a distraction, so I walked over to his bike and sat on it, gripping the handles and imagining what it would be like to ride in the wind. But all I could envision now was him in front of me, and that wasn’t helping.
He slid his body from under my car. “Be careful, little girl. That’s not a toy.”
I hopped off and ran my finger along the letters emblazoned on the saddlebags. “What’s C.B. stand for anyway?”
“Those are my initials.”
“Let me guess…Cocky Bastard?”
“See…I would have told you my name, but since you’re so clever, I think I’ll just let you guess.”
“Whatever, Cocky.”
He lay back down on the ground. “I’m just tightening up these nuts, and we’ll be ready to go.”
“Nuts?”
“Lug nuts…on the wheel, dirty girl.”
“Oh.”
Hopping up, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe his forehead. “All set.”
Damn.
“That was quick. Are you sure it’s on right?”
“I’ve got a few screws loose, darling, as you’ll soon find out, but none of them are on your wheel.” He winked and for the first time, I noticed his dimples. “We should probably stop tomorrow and get a new tire put on. This spare is really not meant for long term use.”
Tomorrow. Wow. This was really happening.
“We should get going,” I said. “I’ll drive. I need to be in control of this situation.”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
I could feel the tension in my neck as I backed out of the spot. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. He wasted no time digging into my chicken bites.
I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey, lay off my food.”
“Honey mustard? I prefer barbecue.” He licked his thumb, and I swore at myself for getting turned on a little. This was going to be a long ride.
He smirked and lifted the plastic bag from the souvenir shop. “Did you even open it?”
“No. What’s the point? It’s just a broken bobblehead.”
Handing it to me, he said, “Is it?”
With one hand on the steering wheel, I took out the bobblehead which was…in one piece.
“What the…how did you?”
“You seemed to like it, so I paid for the other and bought you a different one. You were too busy looking through your purse to notice.”
I couldn’t help but smile and shook my head.
“Well, whaddya know. A genuine smile.” He held out his hand. “Here…gimme.” When, I handed it to him, he took an adhesive strip off the bottom and stuck it to the dash. Obama’s head was now bopping up and down with every movement of the car.
I broke out in laughter at the ridiculousness but also couldn’t help the warm feeling that came over me with that sweet gesture. Maybe he wasn’t really a bastard at all.
We were quiet for a while as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. Somewhere along I-76 after the sun set into a bright orange glow that illuminated the horizon in the distance, he turned to me.
His voice was groggy. “I’m Chance.”
After several seconds of silence, I said, “Aubrey.”
“Aubrey,” he repeated in a breathy whisper, seeming to contemplate my name before closing his eyes again and turning his head away.
Chance.

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imageABOUT VI KEELAND

Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
Social Media Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

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ABOUT PENELOPE WARD

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 10-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

Social Media Links: Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads

Additional Books from Penelope Ward

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Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway: Deep Night (Denver Heroes, Book 3) by Kathy Clark

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Deep Night (Denver Heroes, Book 3)
by Kathy Clark

Publication Date: August 18, 2015

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imageSure to thrill readers of Nora Roberts and Karen Robards, the breathtaking Denver Heroes series from New York Times bestselling author Kathy Clark continues as two adrenaline junkies find themselves fighting unexpected passion—and unspeakable terror.

Ex-soldier Chris Wilson lost too many friends to war. Back home in Denver, he’s trying to make a difference as a paramedic, treating victims of crisis situations. Not even active combat could prepare Chris for the rush he gets when violence and tragedy collide, but the job isn’t the only thing making his heart race. His partner is his closest confidant from childhood, and the girl he remembers is now a strong, sensual woman . . . who needs him more than ever.

Sara Richards is more comfortable risking her life than asking for help. The petite blonde medic put a wall around her heart long ago, vowing to never let anyone hurt her again. Only now her long-buried secrets threaten to destroy everything she’s built. And though she should be able to trust Chris, his smoldering blue-gray eyes ignite desires that feel more dangerous than whatever’s lurking in the shadows. For once, Sara can’t go it alone. But Chris might just be stubborn enough to stand by her side as she faces down her worst nightmare.

Link to Follow Tour

Goodreads Link

Goodreads Series Link

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“Auto versus building at the 7-Eleven at 2341 East Colfax, driver unconscious, unknown medical, reported multiple injuries. Sending fire and medical.”
Chris stuffed the rest of a double bacon cheeseburger into his mouth, wadded up his trash and tossed it in the fast-food bag on the floor. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. His partner, Sara, grimaced as she snapped the lid closed on her salad.
“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep eating like that,” she told him.
“Thank God I know a paramedic who’ll save my life.” He flashed her a crooked grin. Death by cheeseburger wasn’t something he worried about. The whole time he’d been in Afghanistan, all he could think about was a juicy cheeseburger so big it would barely fit into his mouth, and now that he was back, he didn’t deny himself the pleasure.
“I’m not a miracle worker.” As she spoke, she reached for the radio in anticipation of the call.
“Then why the hell am I riding with you?” he teased.
“Ambulance 25, come back with location,” the dispatcher’s voice filled the cab.
“East 23rd and York and heading toward Colfax,” Sara said into the microphone.
“Need you on a code 10 at 2341 East Colfax, vehicle versus building, injuries unknown. Could be multiples.”
“Copy.” Sara hooked the microphone back on its clip and flipped the switches to turn on the lights and siren. A code 10 was considered an emergency call, which meant they needed to get there as fast as safely possible.
As usual, the drivers in front of them went through various stages of panic as they tried to get out of the way. Some moved right, some tried to merge into the outside lane, while still others simply stopped in the middle of the road. Chris skillfully maneuvered the ambulance through the urban labyrinth. Traffic was surprisingly heavy for eleven on a Wednesday night.
“Did the Rockies game run late?” he asked, driving up on the curb to get around a line of cars. As they approached the intersection, the Opticom sensor picked up the ambulance’s signal and switched the traffic light to green. Chris cautiously checked to make sure everyone in the opposing lanes was paying attention, then turned through the intersection and headed toward Colfax.
“Don’t know, but maybe that’s a good sign. They’ve been playing like Little Leaguers so far this year.” Sara kept a wary eye on the traffic, too. Tonight was Chris’s turn to drive, but that didn’t mean she would relax and let her guard down. As field instructor, she was the senior medic, so everything he did was her responsibility.
“Remember the video game Frogger?” he asked, crossing two lanes to get to an opening.
“Watch out for that car!”
Chris slammed on the brakes, stopping just inches from a black Camaro that had run the red light.
“Fucker,” Sara muttered.
“Language, girl,” Chris reprimanded with a smile. “Your mother would wash your mouth out for words like that.”
“Fuck you,” she snapped back. But even in the darkness of the cab, he could see the twinkle in her eyes. Their relationship went much farther back than the six months they had spent together in the cab of this ambulance.
Their families had been next-door neighbors for most of their childhood, although Sara was two years younger than the youngest Wilson boy. Back then, Chris thought she was an annoying little girl who followed them around the neighborhood. Now she was his boss.
Chris turned into an alley, pulled up next to the 7-Eleven and parked behind two police cruisers. A fire truck and two more police cars were in front of the building.
“Showtime!” Sara exclaimed as she unfastened her seat belt and exited the ambulance almost before it came to a complete stop. She opened the back doors, grabbed her medical kit and jogged toward the wrecked vehicle.
Chris jumped out the driver’s side, got the stretcher out of the back and hurried to catch up with her. For a short woman, she could really cover a lot of ground quickly. He saw his brother Sam standing next to a late-model Expedition that was stopped almost completely inside the store. Sara was kneeling on the ground and taking over CPR on the driver.
“What happened?” Chris asked.
Sam, who worked for the Denver Police Department, shook his head and answered with typical cop dark humor, “Probably in a hurry to pick up his beer . . . until he realized they didn’t have a drive-through.”
“Anyone hurt in there?”
“Looks like it. Fire department beat you here . . . again.”
“Yeah, well, they’re better drivers than medics. I’d better take over before they kill someone.” Chris ducked under the yellow tape that marked the boundaries of the scene and headed inside. He glanced at Sara, who was working on the driver. “Need any help?”
Before they had arrived, two firefighters had pulled the man out of his car and were administering CPR. “I’ll take this one,” she said as she ripped open a sterilized intubation packet. There were all sorts of injury-specific packages included in their kit, which made it easy to treat patients. “Check inside for patients.”
By the looks of the scene, the driver must have passed out or was in the throes of a heart attack when he pressed the accelerator instead of the brake. The big SUV had jumped the curb and plowed through a paneled plate-glass window, sending a shower of glass all over the store. He’d taken out a short brick wall and continued inside until a six-foot-tall shelf of soda and water bottles stopped his forward progress.

******

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imageimageKathy Clark is a New York Times bestselling author whose novels have sold more than three million copies in eleven languages. Her plot lines have always championed women’s empowerment, placing strong female characters in real-life situations. Her stories will make you laugh and cry, and her characters will live in your heart forever. She lives with her husband and co-author, Bob Wernly.

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Release Day Launch: Rage/ Killian (Bayou Heat Novellas) by Alexandra Ivy & Laura Wright

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We are so excited to bring you the Release Day Launch for Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright’s RAGE/KILLIAN! Check out the teasers/ excerpt and grab a copy. I love the Bayou Heat series! -Cori 

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Kindle $2.99 | Amazon PBK $8.99

 

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RAGE

Rage might be an aggressive Hunter by nature, but the gorgeous male has never had a problem charming the females. All except Lucie Gaudet. Of course, the lovely Geek is a born troublemaker, and it was no surprise to Rage when she was kicked out of the Wildlands.

But now the Pantera need a first-class hacker to stop the potential destruction of their people. And it’s up to Rage to convince Lucie to help. Can the two forget the past—and their sizzling attraction—to save the Pantera?

KILLIAN

Gorgeous, brutal, aggressive, and human, Killian O’Roarke wants only two things: to get rid of the Pantera DNA he’s been infected with, and get back to the field. But the decorated Army Ranger never bargained on meeting the woman—the female—of his dreams on his mission to the Wildlands.

Rosalie lost her mate to a human, and now the Hunter despises them all. In fact, she thinks they’re good for only one thing: barbeque. But this one she’s guarding is testing her beliefs. He is proud and kind, and also knows the pain of loss. But in a time of war between their species, isn’t any chance of love destined for destruction?

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“No,” he growled. “No, no, no.”
“I’m sorry.” Parish folded his arms over his chest, the air prickling with the force of his authority. The older male wasn’t the leader of the Hunters because of his sparkling personality. “Did you think that was a request? Because it wasn’t.”
Rage grimaced, deliberately leashing his instinctive aggression. He’d discovered at an early age he could use his natural charm to…encourage people to see things his way. It was only when his cat was provoked to violence that it was obvious why his faction was Hunter instead of Diplomat.
“Please, Parish,” he soothed. “Send someone else.”
“There is no one else.” Parish narrowed his golden eyes. “In case you missed the memo we’ve been having a few disasters lately.”
“Exactly. I should be out searching for the mysterious Christopher,” Rage said, referring to the head of Benson Enterprises, the shadowy corporation that was responsible for stealing Pantera, as well as vulnerable humans. “Or at least hunting down the Frankenstein labs. We still can’t be sure we’ve burned them all.” He pointed toward the window that overlooked the manicured grass of the communal area. Below them a few Pantera mothers were sharing a late lunch while their cubs tumbled across the spongy ground. It was winter in the Wildlands, but the Pantera embraced the brisk air. “Hell, I’ll even spy on the military. Someone needs to discover who can and can’t be trusted in the human government.”
Parish looked far from impressed by his logic. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”
“Christ, no. It’s just…”
Parish frowned. “What?”
Rage hesitated. This was the first time he’d ever questioned a direct order, but there was no way in hell he wanted to deal with Lucie Gaudet.
The female Geek had been a few years younger than Rage, and growing up he’d initially felt sorry for the half-feral creature who’d lived in the outer parts of the swamp. She’d slunk around the edges of town with her hair matted and tangled, and her face covered in dirt. Almost like a fabled wood sprite who flitted among the trees, spreading mist and magic
But as they’d matured, his pity had changed to annoyance.
Instead of growing out of her odd preference for the shadows, she’d continued to lurk at a distance, and worse, she’d used her cunning intelligence to torment others. Including himself.
A born troublemaker.

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Alexandra IvyABOUT ALEXANDRA IVY:

Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling author. From Alexandra: “I’m not exactly sure when I fell in love with books. Probably on my mother’s knee listening to her read Dr. Seuss to me. I do remember that I was barely old enough to cross the street by myself when I discovered the delights of the local library.

Could anything be more wonderful than spending summer days surrounded by stacks of Nancy Drew mysteries? Over the years I fell in love with Victoria Holt, Jane Austen, Agatha Christie, and J.R.R. Tolkien just to name a few. I read poetry, essays, biographies, and plays. In fact, I read anything I could get my hands on.

Years later (no, I’m not admitting how many) I’m still an avid reader, and my tastes are still as varied as they were in my youth, which I suppose helps to explain why I enjoy writing regency historicals under the name of Deborah Raleigh, as well as my contemporary paranormals as Alexandra Ivy. For now that is enough to keep me busy, but who knows what the future might hold!

I do have a few other loves in my life besides reading and writing, the most important being my unbelievably patient husband, David, and my two sons, Chance and Alexander. Without their constant support and belief in me, I never could have been able to follow my dreams. They are truly my heroes.

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Laura WrightABOUT LAURA WRIGHT:

Laura Wright is a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling author. From Laura: “Unlike many of my peers in the writing world, I wasn’t a writer or a reader until I left high school. During my youth I was into theater, song and dance, commercials and boys. I loved romance surely, but I had never read a romance novel until my late teens. With that said, I remember the day I did like it was a moment ago – my aunt gave me the Jude Deveraux novel, Knight in Shining Armor and I couldn’t put it down until the very last word. Then I went straight to the library and got another – then another until I’d read everything she’d ever written. After that, it was McNaught, Howard, Schone, Kleypas, and the Silhouette line, Desire. I instantly loved those emotional, sexy reads, so much so that I began to carve out ideas for my own stories, themes that were unique to me and moved me. In 1997 I enrolled in UCLA extension writing classes, met my mentor and critique partners and since have never stopped writing. I was committed then and I still am now; the need to tell my own romantic stories a full on obsession. My first manuscript was rejected, and though the second one was as well the editor who’d rejected it wanted to see something else from me. I had something (note to authors; always keep working, even after you’ve sent in a proposal) and sent it right away. The day I got the call telling me Desire wanted to buy Cinderella and the Playboy was the best day of my life. That is until I married my husband, and had my two beautiful children. But I must say, writing is much like motherhood – tough, grueling, surprising, delicious and for me, a dream come true.”

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