Release Day and Giveaway! THE RIGHT FIT by Daphne Dubois

 

Maxine and Antony are about to discover a game of casual hook-ups can  lead to something neither one of them thought they deserved—the right fit.

 

THE RIGHT FIT
Daphne Dubois
Released April 12th, 2017
The Wild Rose Press

When Maxine Nicholls discovers her fiancé is cheating, she turns to fast food and nighttime soap operas, but her sister has a plan—unbridled rebound sex with a stranger.
 
As one of Toronto’s hottest players, Antony Laurent tallies scores on and off the ice, but when the chiseled defense man hits a slump, rumors of a trade to the minor league send him to ambush a managers meeting at a posh club.
That night a chance encounter ends up as an unforgettable evening of passion. But Maxine and Antony are about to discover a game of casual hook ups can lead to something neither one of them thought they deserved—the right fit.

She dropped her gaze and stared at his hands. God, they are big hands. Big hands, big… “Do you want a coffee?” she blurted out.

“A coffee? Non.”

“Or maybe you need the washroom?” She pointed down the short hallway that lead to her bedroom.

He looked down the hallway, then back to Maxine. “You want me to use washroom?” he asked seriously.

“No.” She backed up a few steps until she reached the kitchen counter. The heat under her dress was now slick and uncomfortable. She glanced down and saw a mint leaf sticking out of her cleavage. Classy lady.

The romance cover model ran a hand through his hair again, making his biceps strain under the t-shirt sleeve. Maxine suspected he’d practiced that move in the mirror a few times. “Then what do you want?” he asked.

A burst of nervous laughter escaped, but then her smile faded. “No one has asked me that in a very long time,” she said. Slipping off his jacket, she laid it on the counter, letting her finger trace the stitching along the zipper, trying to build up her courage. “Why did you follow me into the cab?”

“Because no one has ever run away from me before.”

Rolling her eyes, Maxine looked up and saw that he was smirking. “Rejection is a new thing for you, I’m guessing.”

“Is that what you call inviting me here?” He tossed the ball cap and it landed perfectly on the dining table. The floorboard creaked as he took a step closer to her. There was a spark of anticipation in his eyes.

“Hold on, cowboy,” she said, putting a hand on his chest. My God! His muscles are rock hard under his shirt. Who the hell is this guy? She cleared her throat. “What makes you think you can kiss me again?”

He was still as stone under her touch, but Maxine could feel herself falling into his stare. “You kissed me,” he said, his voice ridiculously smooth. “There is a difference, I promise.”

It wasn’t only the French accent, but the confidence in his voice that made her knees almost unhinge. Her hand was flat on his chest; his racing heart was keeping time with hers. “That sounds like a proposition,” she said.

“It can only be decided one way.” Then he repeated his earlier question. “What do you want?”

He was so close she could see the faint brown and black colors of his stubble. There was a cleft in his chin. What do you want? An image of the long white box hidden in the closet was ignored; all Maxine wanted at that moment was to mold herself into his arms and forget about the last four years. “Kiss me,” she said.

His fingers grazed her cheek, tucking a wave of hair behind her ear. “Un moment,” he said. “A man should be prepared.” He peeled the last mint leaf off her chest then placed it in his mouth.

Maxine giggled through a surprised expression, which faded into a sigh.

Then, with deliberate care, he brought his lips down to hers, perfectly fitting their mouths together. He gently moved his chin starting a slow pace, controlled but with a sense of held back urgency.

This was nothing like the hastily stolen kiss at the club.

The cautious seduction was almost too much for Maxine. She wanted to taste him fully, kiss him back hard—tackle this moment like Alexis Colby.



Daphne Dubois writes contemporary romance and believes the right book at the right time can make all the difference. When she’s not putting her characters in compromising positions (ahem), she works as a registered nurse. A member of the Writer’s Federation of Nova Scotia, she lives in Eastern Canada, the most romantic place in the world.

 

 

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First Look and Giveaway! FORBIDDEN PROMISES by Katee Robert (The O’Malleys #4)

A First Look at Forbidden Promises by Katee Robert!

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katee Robert delivers the next book in her sizzling O’Malleys family series, hailed as “The Godfather meets Romeo & Juliet.” FORBIDDEN PROMISES features Sloan O’Malley and her mysterious new next-door neighbor, Jude MacNamara.

 

Meet Jude!

Pre-order FORBIDDEN PROMISES and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get a sneak peek at FORBIDDEN PROMISES and to enter the giveaway for a $15 Amazon gift card!

Title: Forbidden Promises
Author: Katee Robert
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 30, 2017
Publisher: Grand Central/Forever
Series: The O’Malleys
Page Count: 336 pages
Format: Digitial and Print
ASIN: B01KT7YSJM
ISBN-13: 9781455597031

 

Synopsis:

Some lines should never be crossed . . . not even for love.

Sloan O’Malley just left her entire world behind-her family, her wealth, and even her real name. For the first time in her life, she’s free. She can live the “normal” life she’s always wanted. A life without fear. But there’s nothing safe about her intensely sexy next-door neighbor.

Jude MacNamara has no room for innocence in his life. Only revenge. Still, he’s never been able to walk away from the forbidden, and Sloan-who is every inch of pure, mouthwatering temptation-has forbidden written all over her. Only after it’s way too late does he discover the real danger: claiming Sloan as his puts a target on her back. To protect her, Jude is willing risk everything . . . and to hell with the consequences.

Pre-order at:
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Forbidden Promises Excerpt:

She nearly tripped over Jude when she opened the door, and that was the last straw. “What is your problem?”

He raised a single eyebrow, not looking perturbed in the least. “Sorry?”

“No, you’re not. You’re not sorry that you turned me down last night, or that you left in a hurry, or that you were an…an insufferable jackass this morning.”

If anything, his eyebrow inched higher. “You’re in a mood.”

“Are you kidding me?” She pushed at his chest, but he didn’t even pretend she had the strength to move him. “You weren’t interested last night, so you don’t get to waltz into the diner and order me to go out with you. I’ve taken orders my entire life, and I’ll be damned before I take one from you.” The outburst left her feeling deflated, but she clamped her mouth shut and refused to apologize. Maybe she was being the slightest bit dramatic, but that didn’t mean she was wrong.

Jude took a step closer, towering over her, his shoulders so broad, they filled the doorway. “Are you done?”

Just like that, she had a whole lot more to say. “Actually—”

“That was a rhetorical question, sunshine.” His big hand cupped the back of her neck, his thumb tracing over her jaw and up to drag against her bottom lip.

The touch shocked her into silence.

For a moment. “Jude—”

Apparently he wasn’t finished. “I didn’t say no last night because I wasn’t interested. I wouldn’t have apologized—twice—if I wasn’t interested.”

“But—”

“You want to know the truth? The truth is that I can’t look at you without wanting to strip you down, to run my hands over that tight little body of yours, to spread those sweet thighs and fuck you with my tongue until you’re screaming my name and begging for mercy.”

She swayed, her anger, her ability to think or move or talk or do anything except stare helplessly at him, all gone. She licked her lips, forgetting that his thumb was there, and stroked him with her tongue instead. His chocolate eyes went even darker, and he suddenly seemed larger.

Say something.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“It’s the fucking truth, sunshine.” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, his hand gentle yet holding her in place easily. “You’re a good girl. I don’t have to spend any time with you to know that. You deserve better than the likes of me, even for a fuck. But that’s the difference between us. I’m not good. I might as well be the goddamn devil as far as you’re concerned, but I’ve never been good at walking away when I have my mind set on something. And, sunshine, I have my mind set on you.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t take a step, though she was at a loss if she’d move away from or toward him. It was like he held her captive with only a single hand, stalling out any and all reasoning ability.

Jude’s grip tightened, ever so slightly. “I was going to take you out. It’s not my scene, but I was willing to give it a shot. I changed my mind.” He stepped into her, his chest lightly pressed against her breasts, his thighs bracketing hers, his…Oh my good lord. His hard length pressed against her stomach, and it felt perfectly in proportion with the rest of his massive body, not that she was an expert on these matters.

His other hand came to rest on her hip, fingers bunching the fabric of her dress as he kneaded her. “Tell me to stop, and it’s done. I’ll walk away, and I’ll do my damnedest to leave you alone. Tell me to walk away, sunshine. Just say the words.”

She knew he was right. He was no good for her, and this would only end in tears on her part. The man wasn’t asking to date her. He didn’t want to get to know her. He was telling her all the things he’d do to her body.

But she couldn’t say the words to make him leave.

Sloan had never taken anything for herself in her entire life. She’d stayed in the background and gone with the flow and done everything in her power to play least in sight. Her brothers ran off any boy remotely interested in her, and she’d allowed it to happen. If her father had decided to move forward on his plans to marry her off, she would have walked down the aisle to a man of his choosing.

She’d never done a single selfish thing in her life until she asked Teague to help her escape.

Until she tentatively ran her hands up Jude’s chest, sucking in her breath at the way his muscles tensed beneath her fingers. Until she looked up into his stormy dark eyes and said the word that would damn them both. “Stay.”

Copyright © 2017 Katee Robert

Praise for The O’Malleys Series:

“It can be hard to make a ruthless assassin into a sympathetic character, but Robert handles the task with ease. She also deftly shows Sloan’s transformation from a pampered and protected naïf to a strong woman with a backbone of pure steel. A tension-filled plot full of deceit, betrayal, and sizzling love scenes will make it impossible for readers to set the book down.”—Publishers Weekly on FORBIDDEN PROMISES

 

“You will finish it in one sitting and die after you’re done because the next book isn’t out yet. This was one sexy ride!”—Reviewer Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews on FORBIDDEN PROMISES

 

“Two story lines end up converging into one explosive finale at the end.  A great read from the talented Robert!” —RT Book Reviews

 

“Katee Robert’s has created a fictional underworld of such veracity, that one almost expects the characters to turn up on the front-page news. It never feels over the top or implausible; the author writes extremely well-crafted stories… The romance between Cillian and Olivia is very beautiful, tender and real.”—Fresh Fiction on AN INDECENT PROPOSAL

 

“Will keep you turning pages.”—RT Book Reviews on THE WEDDING PACT

 

“If you like angsty reads, this book is right up your wheelhouse.”—Heroes & Heartbreakers on THE WEDDING PACT

 

“Dark, dirty, and dead sexy.”—Tiffany Reisz, bestselling author of The Original Sinners series, on THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT
 

Other Books in The O’Malleys Series:

THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT

THE WEDDING PACT

AN INDECENT PROPOSAL

UNDERCOVER ATTRACTION (Coming soon!)

 

About Katee Robert:

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram

Enter to win a $15 Amazon Gift Card from Katee Robert!

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A Conversation with Amanda Ashby, Author of THE WEDDING PLANNER’S BABY (Sisters of Wishing Bridge Farm #2–with a New Release Review and Giveaway!)

He’ll have to choose between duty to his relatives and  love for the real family he never thought he could have. 

What did you enjoy most about writing this book?

Bec’s quite wild and carefree and Lincoln is an English Lord and despite the differences they bounced really well off each other, which meant it was fun to write them. Plus, I loved Bec’s relationship with her best friend, Coop, so it was always a giggle when they were on the page together!

 

Name three things on your desk right now.

Colored Post It notes and colored pens

A large quartz crystal

A coaster in the shape of a Maori Tiki

(and one thing that isn’t on my desk is me! I tend to travel around the house following the sun like a cat, leaving the desk untouched by human hands!)

 

What are some books that you enjoyed recently?

History is All You Left Me by Adam Silveria (loved this book so much and when I finished I did that sad blinky thing when you realize that you’re not in book world at all, but rather in your house).

The Starbound Trilogy by Aimee Kaufman and Megan Spooner

 Storm Front by Jim Butcher.

 

What types of scenes are your most favorite to write?

The silly kind. I do have a tendency to go over the top with the situations that I throw my characters into and I figure that when it gets too ridiculous then my editor will haul me back. Though, every now and then they forget, and I end up with crazy weird things happening in my books. I really shouldn’t be left unattended!

 

What are you favorite types of stories to read?

I read a lot of Young Adult and Fantasy books and often describe my reading tastes as that of a twelve-year-old boy because I like a lot of action, sword fighting and magic. But I also love humor and romance so when I get a book that combines all of these things, I’m pretty happy!

 

What 5 things should readers know about you?

1) I can’t tell my left from my right without shaking my hand and then working out if that’s the one I hold a pen in (and yes, I know about all the tricks of making the letter L with your left hand and no one wishes that way would work more than me. Alas, it does not). However, despite not being able to tell my left from my right, I have a really great sense of direction, which was very handy in the pre Google Map/SatNav days!

2) I was born in Australia but have lived for many years in both England and New Zealand and as a result have a very strange accent. No, seriously, if we were having a strange accent competition I would totally win!

3) I will forever love The Spice Girls and all forms of 90s pop music. This makes my husband shudder, to which I merely reply zig-ah-zig-ah.

4) When it comes to black boots, I’m a firm believer that more is better!

5) The above policy also applies to purses and white linen blouses.

 

When did you first start writing and when did you finish your first book?

I started writing when I was twenty-seven after suddenly waking up one day and deciding that I should write a book. I wish I could say I was exaggerating and that I’d some inkling when I was younger, but nope. Not a clue. I was really good at creative writing at school and had been a life long reader, but until that moment of clarity, the chances of me being a writer were as likely as me becoming an astronaut (which, no offence to astronauts, but it looks like a lot of work). But I digress. So, after waking up with the idea to write a book I promptly sat down and wrote a 50,000 word romance, enticingly titled Love Story. Yeah. It was as bad as it sounds! It took me about a month to write and if memory serves, I did the whole thing in bold. Because I really was that clueless!!! After that I kept writing more books and learning my craft until I finally sold my debut book ten years later. Probably another reason why I could never be an astronaut. I’m a very slow learner!

 

What do you do when you are not writing?

I also work in the children’s department at my local library, which is awesome! I love books and I love seeing kids reading books so it’s a win/win. I also spend lots of time watching television or having my own nose buried in a book. Oh and I have a small and totally under control addiction to buying vintage treasures, which keeps me busy!!! Apparently I also have a family to feed and water, so let’s pretend that they come further up the list!

 

Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers?

I sure do! For a start, I’m so proud of everyone who listens to their inner voice, who dares to follow their dreams and who steps into the magical space of creativity, it’s an amazing place to be! As for advice, there is quite literally only one way to write a book, and that’s word by word. Yes, you might not have the craft nailed, or understand how a scene works but until you sit down and start writing your story, you’ll never figure it out. So, take a deep breath and get started. You got this!

Amanda Ashby was born in Australia but now lives in New Zealand where she writes romance, young adult and middle grade books. She also works in a library, owns far too many vintage tablecloths and likes to delight her family by constantly rearranging the furniture.

She has a degree in English and Journalism from the University of Queensland and is married with two children. Her debut book was nominated for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice award, and her first young adult book was listed in the New York Public Library Stuff for the Teen Age. Because she’s mysterious she also writes middle grade books under the name, Catherine Holt and hopes that all this writing won’t interfere with her Netflix schedule.

 

THE WEDDING PLANNER’S BABY
Sisters of Wishing Bridge Farm #2
Amanda Ashby
Releasing April 10th, 2017
Entangled Bliss

Free-spirited Bec Watson was never having children­––until she is. No way she’s ready for this, and she’s not going to tie-down the father, not even (especially!) if he’s secretly an English Lord. She’s doing this solo, which means she needs help from the one place she swore she’d never return…Wishing Bridge Farm. Home.

Lincoln Mathews has never known love, only responsibility. And now his family home and business is at jeopardy unless he finds a solution. Fast. Their idea? Marry for money. But the girl who stole his heart is carrying their child. His first mission? Follow her to Wishing Bridge Farm. But soon he’ll have to choose between duty to his relatives and love for the real family he never thought he
could have. 


 

“I’m sorry I judged you. I hate when people judge me, and yet I seem to be constantly doing it to you.” Bec sighed, causing her chest to rise and fall beneath her thin T-shirt.

“I didn’t give you much to go on.” Lincoln tried to ignore the cramp in his shoulder. He should move, but if he did, he might somehow break the connection that had opened between them. “What with the whole forgetting to mention who I really was.”

“I understand why you did it.” Bec bit down on her lower lip, making her even more desirable. The numbness in his shoulder disappeared, replaced by the steady pounding of his heart as he drank in the sight of her mouth. “And I could’ve asked more questions. Or taken fewer photographs,” she said.

“At the time it seemed like a good idea.” He dared to inch closer to her, breathing in her aroma—soap and hay and all things bright. His pulse spiked as she let out a tiny moan. The air caught in his throat as the throbbing tension rattled his body.

“It did,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving his. A shudder went through him as her perfume caught in his nose and her lips parted. “Just like right now, this seems like a good idea.”

Desire raced through him. She wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her.

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, feather light at first, until Bec let out a soft groan. Lincoln’s arms snaked around her, dragging her closer to him, pushing away all the things standing between them. They were back in Italy. She tasted of juice and sunshine. The sea was behind them, the sand beneath. Bec’s hand looped up around his neck. His title fell away along with his responsibilities. All he could taste was her skin. Her heart pounding—

A cute and fluffy read–a fun way to start the week 🙂

The end of book one ( Falling for the Best Man ) ensured that I was going to sign up for book two–what was Bec’s story? What–or who–was she running from, and why? And…a baby? I was intrigued. Not to mention anxious to see who her hero would be…and a titled English lord? Yes, please!

Though I have to admit Lincoln didn’t seem particularly British, and Bec was more than a little immature…still, they were both quite likable, and wanting to see them get to an HEA kept me turning the pages. Bec’s inner monologue was particularly amusing–I especially felt a kinship with her when she reflected that

All she knew was that she was miserable. And she’d once spent six months trying to study accounting, so she knew a thing or two about misery.

Preach it, sister. Though I had two semesters, so tell me about it.

The Wedding Planner’s Baby would work fine as a standalone, if you haven’t read the first book yet. One sister left to go–we’ve got a pretty good idea where Pepper’s story is going to go, but it will be nice to have confirmation 🙂

Rating: 4 stars / B-

I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy of this book.

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Release Day! THE HOT SHOT by Kristen Callihan (Game On #4)

 

the hot shot AN

First we were friends. Then we were roommates. Now I want more…

What can I say about Chess Copper? The woman is capable of bringing me to my knees. I know this about five minutes after getting naked for her.

No one is more surprised than me. The prickly photographer my team hired to shoot our annual charity calendar isn’t my usual type. She’s defense to my offense, a challenge at every turn. But when I’m with her, all the regrets and darkness goes away. She makes life fun.

I want to know Chess, be close to her. Which is a bad idea.

Chess is looking for a relationship. I’ve never given a woman more than one night. But when fate leaves Chess without a home, I step up and offer her mine. We’re roommates now. Friends without benefits. But it’s getting harder to keep our hands off each other. And the longer we live together the more I realize she’s becoming my everything.

Trick is… Now that I’ve made her believe I’m a bad bet, how do I convince her to give this player a true shot at forever?

TheHotShot Amazon-2
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FINN

She sits quietly as I eat, and shakes her head when I offer her a sandwich section. Because I’m hungry, and because I don’t like the idea of her having to wait for me to eat, I wolf down my food. The brownie follows with a few, quick bites.

Wiping my hands on a napkin, I set the plate and empty can on a side table, and then let out a contented sigh. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Her smile is small and quick. “I should have fed you as soon as you got here.”

“I’m good now.”

Chess braces her hands on the seat and leans forward to watch her feet as we slowly rock the swing. Silence descends, thick and awkward, and for the first time in her presence, I’m at a loss for words.

I don’t know this girl. Not really, and yet I’ve inserted myself into her life with a determination I usually reserve for winning games. Except I have no endgame here. I told her I want to be friends. But how does that work for us?

Our friends and lives couldn’t be any more different. Parties for me are self-congratulatory events, filled with people whose one focus seems to be bolstering my ego, followed by me searching for a quick hookup. And my friends are all part of football in some way. We talk football or sports. It’s a narrow focus life, but it’s my comfort zone. That chafes too, knowing I live a life that seems wild and free to outsiders but is actually small and structured on the inside.

The silence has stretched too long. I should go. But I don’t move. If I go, I know it will be the end of whatever this is. Embarrassment will have me avoiding seeking her out again. Likely, she’ll do the same. And that will be that.

The knowledge sits like a stone on my chest.

“I’m sorry about my friends,” Chess says. “They can be uncomfortably brazen.”

“So can mine.” I shrug. “Your friends are…fun.”

Her lips pull tight. “They can be. But they were definitely giving me—and by extension—you shit tonight.” She bites her bottom lip. “I don’t think they know what to make of you.”

“So I wasn’t imagining things.”

“’Fraid not.”

The novel sensation of being a fish tossed into the wrong pond grows. I’ve taken away Chess’s fun by coming here, and I’m sorry for it.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come here,” Chess says in a low voice.

She’s only echoing my thoughts but the stone sitting on my chest pushes harder against my ribs.

Chess makes a small sound, as if she’s trying to laugh but can’t. “Parties suck when you arrive halfway through and don’t know anyone.”

“I know you,” I point out quietly.

She turns and the porch light illuminates her face. Green eyes met mine and hold, as a slow, true smile curls over her cherry lips. Something inside of me shifts and slides. I want to kiss Chester Copper. Haul her onto my lap and make out with her like we’re teenagers hiding out at our parents’ party. But that’s not what she invited me here for.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses in that husky morning voice that goes straight to my cock. She turns away and stares out into the darkness. “It’s weird, you know? But hanging out with you was so unexpected it kind of felt like I imagined the whole thing.”

I know exactly what she means. My hand settles next to hers, close enough that our pinkies touch. That small point of contact sparks along my skin, makes me want to move closer. I hold steady because I don’t trust myself not to act. “I wanted to see you too,” I tell her. “It’s been a long fucking day.”

I hadn’t planned to admit that, but it feels good to tell her.

Chess eases back against the seat and then curls her fingers over mine with a light squeeze. The unexpected touch holds all my attention. It’s nothing more than a simple offer of comfort, and here I am twitching in my seat as if she’d cupped my dick instead. I’m in so much trouble here because this woman is getting to me in ways I don’t know how to navigate. But I don’t pull away. Not one fucking chance of that.

Chess speaks, pulling me attention back to our conversation. “So tell me about it.”

I can’t remember the last time anyone asked me to tell them about my day. Likely, no one ever has.

So I do. And with every word that leaves my mouth, a little bit more of my stress eases. No, I don’t yet truly know Chess. And yes, our lives are different. But there’s no way I’m ending this. Because when it’s just her and me, everything else falls away. I’m not going to let myself forget that again.

THS1

 

KCauthor

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal , best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

WEBSITE / FACEBOOK / TWITTER /

Sale Blitz! ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE by Jill Shalvis (A Heartbreaker Bay novel) just $1.99!

From New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes the sexy, standalone novel, ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE, on sale for $1.99 in the eBook format for a limited time only! Grab your copy today at this amazing price!

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About ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE:

There’s no such thing as a little in love . . .

Elle Wheaton’s priorities: friends, career, and kick-ass shoes. Then there’s the muscular wall of stubbornness that’s security expert Archer Hunt—who comes before everything else. No point in telling Mr. “Feels-Free Zone” that, though. Elle will just see other men until she gets over Archer . . . which should only take a lifetime . . .

There’s no such thing as a little in lust . . .

Archer’s wanted the best for Elle ever since he sacrificed his law-enforcement career to save her. Their chemistry could start the next San Francisco earthquake and he craves her 24/7, but Archer doesn’t want to be responsible for the damage. The alternative? Watch her go out with guys who aren’t him . . .

There is such a thing as . . .

As far as Archer’s concerned, nobody is good enough for Elle. But when he sets out to prove it by sabotaging her dates, she gets mad—and things get hot as hell. Now Archer has a new mission: prove to Elle that her perfect man has been here all along . . .
Accidentally On Purpose-cover

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EXCERPT:

His hand caught her, long fingers wrapping around her elbow and causing all sorts of unwelcome sensations as he pulled her back around.

“What?” she asked.

“Waiting for my apology.”

“Sure,” she said agreeably. “When hell freezes over.” She lifted her chin, grateful for her four-inch heels so that she could almost, kind of, not quite look him in the eyes. “I’m in charge of this building, Archer, which means I’m in charge of everything that happens in it. I’m also in charge of everyone who works for this building.”

He cocked his head, looking amused again. “You want to be the boss of me, Elle?” he asked softly.

I am the boss of you.”

Now he outright smiled and her breath caught. Damn, stupid, sexy smile. And then there was The Body. Yes, she thought of it in capital letters, it deserved the respect. “If you don’t want to be walking funny tomorrow,” she said, “you’ll stop invading my personal-space bubble.”

Complete bravado and they both knew it. She’d only been at this job for a year and it’d come as a surprise to her that he’d been in the building at all. An unfortunate coincidence. Before that it’d been years since they’d had any contact, but she still knew enough to get that no one got the better of him.

He was quick, light on his feet, and physically strong. But that wasn’t what made him so dangerous to her. No, it was his sharp intelligence, his quick wit, how he was willing to go as dark as he needed to in order to do what he thought was right.

And then there was the biggie—the way he had of making her feel shockingly alive.

He did as she asked and stepped back but not before pausing to make sure they both knew who was in control here, and it most definitely wasn’t her.

No one did intimidation like Archer, and in his line of work he could be in a coma and still intimidate everyone in the room. He had muscles on top of muscles but didn’t look beefed up like a body builder might. Instead his body seemed lean and seriously badass, with caramel skin that strayed from light to golden to mocha latte depending on what the season was, giving him a look of indeterminable origin.

And sexiness.

It worked for him, allowing him to fit in to just about any situation. Handy on the job, she imagined. But with her he was careful. Distant. And yet she’d seen the way he sometimes looked at her, and on the rare occasion when he’d touched her, like when he guided her through a door with his hand low on her back, he let himself linger. There was always a shocking and baffling yearning beyond both the glances and the touches.

That, or it was all just wishful thinking.

Not that it mattered since he still held back with her. The problem was she yearned too. Yearned for him to see her as a woman, strong and capable enough to stand at his side.

But after what they’d been through, she knew that would never happen. She turned away, annoyed by how her entire body had gone on high alert as always, every inch of her seeming to hum beneath the surface.

She should have just emailed him.

 

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And don’t miss the previous books in Jill Shalvis’s Heartbreaker Bay Series, SWEET LITTLE LIES, THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE and ONE SNOWY NIGHT, now available! Grab your copies HERE!

 

Jill Shalvis - headshotAbout Jill Shalvis:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s sexy contemporary and award-winning books wherever romances are sold and click on the blog button above for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.

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New Release! GRIZZLY MOUNTAIN by Becca Jameson (Arcadian Bears #1)


BLURB:

Heather Simmons is excited to start a new job in Alberta, Canada, as a glaciologist. But when a minor accident leaves her trapped on a hiking trail overnight, she finds herself facing a burly mountain man and a pair of grizzly bears. From that moment forward, things could not get weirder.

Isaiah Arthur knows instinctively that Heather is his mate the moment he scents her clothing before heading up the mountain to rescue her. The sensation is confusing since she is obviously human, and converting a human to his species is strictly forbidden.

A rogue shifter takes Heather’s transition out of Isaiah’s hands, however. Isaiah is left with no choice but to take her home and find a way to inform her of her unintended fate while fighting the intense need to make her his as soon as possible.

The North American governing body, the Arcadian Council, is not amused by the rare turning of a human, and chaos ensues as Isaiah races against the clock to bind his mate to him forever before someone steps in the way and takes the opportunity out of his hands.

Buy here – http://amzn.to/2pyemsM

EXCERPT:
“You’re sure about this?” Heather asked five minutes later as Isaiah pulled the truck up to another gorgeous cabin in the woods. It wasn’t as large as his parents’ home, but it appeared to have the same builder because it had a similar look.

“Positive.” He turned off the engine and jumped down from the truck before she had a chance to say anything else. Two seconds later, she was once again in his arms.

She could get used to being pressed against his chest. It unnerved her how attracted she was to him, but it felt…right. Which made her more nervous.

As she held on to his neck, she spoke again. “I hope you don’t feel somehow obligated to take care of me because of a scratch. I’ll be fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

He frowned. “It sort of was my fault.”

“How do you figure? Did you lure that bear out of the woods and taunt it into attacking me?” Huh. Actually, he did indeed seem to taunt the bear.

“No. I didn’t lure the bear. You’re right.” He didn’t comment on the taunting part as he climbed the steps to his equally amazing porch and then opened the front door and carried her inside.

“If you’re going to carry me everywhere, I might milk this sprained ankle for a while.” Holy shit. Did I say that out loud?

He tipped his head toward her and winked, sharing another of his half smiles. “Milk it, baby. It’s definitely no hardship holding you in my arms.”

She flushed. Her entire body was on fire. She was still wearing nothing over her upper body but the ripped shirt missing one sleeve. No coat. It was warmer outside than it had been during the night, but still should have been too chilly to go without at least a jacket. But hers had been ruined. And for some reason, she was not cold.

This sexual banter between them was crazy. She’d even started it. Who the hell was she today?

Once again she found herself whisked right through the living room without a chance to notice a single piece of furniture or décor. Her gaze was still pinned on his face.

What she did notice was his scent permeating the entire space, making her grip her knees together and squirm in his embrace. Since when was she so drawn to a man’s scent?

Since never.

Of course, part of the reason she was so attracted to Isaiah surely had to do with how long it had been since she’d last had a steady boyfriend, which correlated precisely with how long it had been since she’d had sex. Over two years.

She’d been busy making a name for herself in her field, with no time for dating and even less time for the sort of men she usually met at work. The people in her Portland office were so nerdy and serious all the time. Most of them were married, and in some cases she shuddered to think what their wives were like.

She had hoped her prospects in Alberta would be better. Then again, she’d been in the province only two days and she was currently being carried through a sexy man’s home. Maybe this job choice had been exactly perfect. And maybe she had been wrong to beat herself up all night over a sprained ankle. Blessings came in strange wrapping paper.

When Heather finally tore her gaze off the man who met her sexual banter tit for tat, she found herself in a bathroom.

Isaiah tipped her to one side and set her on the counter.

She grabbed the edges. “Uhh…” What the hell were they doing in the bathroom?

Isaiah ignored her to reach for the faucet on the gorgeous whirlpool tub. He turned it on, touched the water, and then turned toward her. “I figure you’d like to bathe, and you probably wouldn’t be able to stand easily in the shower.”

He was right. She felt disgusting under her hiking pants and the now torn, long-sleeved thermal shirt.

God, she was a mess. Her concentration was shot, and she blamed his absurdly sexy body for every lost brain cell. “A bath would be perfect.” She glanced around the room. It was a dream bathroom. His house had to be either newly renovated or brand new because everything in the room was shiny and perfect, from the granite in white and brown swirls to the white cabinets and the glass shower. There were nozzles coming out of the walls in that shower. If she had the ability to stand, she would love to check it out.

Isaiah opened a narrow door next to what she assumed was a small separate toilet room. He pulled out a huge, plush, white towel and set it on the counter. “I don’t have any girly shampoo or whatever you’re used to, but we can fix that later. For now, can you make do with mine?”

She startled. “Of course. I’m not that picky. Soap is soap.”

He smiled again and approached, almost as if he were stalking her. When he reached her, he set his hands on her thighs. “You got this?”

“What if I don’t?” she taunted, again clearly no longer the owner of her own body. She tucked her lips in between her teeth as if that would suck the words back.

He moaned. Moaned. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back, elongating his neck.

She had the sudden desire to run her tongue along the tight muscles of his neck and lick a line up to his mouth or down to his chest. The flannel shirt he wore revealed the slightest sprinkling of hair sticking out the top. She would give anything to see his chest.

When he lowered his face, he met her gaze, not laughing. “Baby, there are so many things we need to talk about, but first you should relax a few minutes, soak in the water. You’ll feel so much better.”

She nodded.

“Now, if you need any help getting undressed and into the tub…”

Heat raced up her cheeks again. She gripped her knees together again also. Why did the timbre of his voice reach her clit?

He sobered a bit and righted himself, still gripping her thighs, but no longer leaning into her quite as closely. “Listen, if I’m overstepping my bounds let me know. I’m not going to lie. I’m attracted to you. And this banter we have going on is sexy as hell. But I also don’t want you to be uncomfortable in my home. So, please, tell me to back off.”

As if God had given her a sign, a neon sign, she reached for Isaiah’s neck with both hands and hauled his face toward hers. Without allowing herself to overthink things, she set her gaze on his lips and drew them all the way to hers.

His mouth was warm, and his lips parted when she touched them with her own. At first her kiss was tentative, nibbling along his fuller mouth, enjoying the first blatant sexual connection.

His fingers tightened on her thighs, making her moan into his mouth. That was when he angled his head to one side and deepened the kiss, taking full control. His tongue slid between her lips to devour her as if he were starving. His hand slid along her thighs and around to her hips to haul her closer to the edge of the counter.

Her heart raced as he nudged her legs apart with his thighs and situated himself between her knees.

The subtle tingling in her clit became a full roar of need. Her panties grew wet from her arousal and rubbed maddeningly against her swollen clit. She gripped his neck tighter, holding him as if he might get away if she let go.

She couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t want to. All she wanted was for this moment in time to freeze right here and never end. She didn’t want to know more or less about the man kissing her. The timing for this connection was perfect. She knew everything about Isaiah that would lure her to him and nothing about him that would later annoy her.

He had a kind and giving spirit, rushing to the rescue of a stranger in the woods and even confronting an enormous angry bear to save her.

He loved his parents and his sibling.

He was sexy as hell.

His pensive brooding gave him a mysterious quality that caused a ball of desire to build in her stomach.

He was doting. Any woman would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend. Considering how well he treated a perfect stranger, he would no doubt be the most adoring lover on earth.

Whatever faults he had, she didn’t know them yet. Was he a slob? His bathroom would attest to the opposite. Did he eat with his mouth open? Leave the toilet seat up? Was he an obnoxious drunk?

Was he a shitty lover? After all, why didn’t he have a woman? Did he roll over after reaching his own orgasm and fall asleep? She found that hard to believe.

His hands curled into her back, hauling her closer as he continued to kiss the sense out of her. When did he completely take over? She didn’t care. His dominance was even hotter than his tentativeness.

When they finally broke free, it was a slow parting that ended with Isaiah easing his mouth off hers but continuing to kiss her lips and then placing a line of kisses toward her ear.

She shuddered when his mouth landed on her lobe and his warm breath filled her ear. “What was that?”

“A kiss?” Her voice sounded as though it belonged to another woman. She didn’t recognize it.

He chuckled against her, leaning closer. “That was way more than a kiss, you little imp. That was a claiming.”

AUTHOR BIO:

Becca Jameson is the best-selling author of the Wolf Masters series and The Fight Club series. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two kids. With over 50 books written, she has dabbled in a variety of genres, ranging from paranormal to BDSM. When she isn’t writing, she can be found jogging with her dog, scrapbooking, or cooking. She doesn’t sleep much, and she loves to talk to fans, so feel free to contact her through e-mail, Facebook, or her website.

…where Alphas dominate…

 

Author Web & Social Media links:

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4995901.Becca_Jameson

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/becca.jameson.18

Facebook Author page: https://www.facebook.com/beccajameson4

website: http://beccajameson.com/

twitter: @beccajameson or: https://twitter.com/beccajameson

New Release and Giveaway! HER SCOTTISH MISTAKE by Michele de Winton

Her Scottish Mistake
by Michele de Winton
Publication Date: April 10, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Lovestruck, Contemporary, Romance

SYNOPSIS:

Aspiring blogger Janie Milan is finally on her dream trip to Thailand. But when an unfortunate piña colada incident lands her in the path of a hot Scotsman, Janie finds herself dying to find out what’s under his kilt. Only the frustratingly sexy man isn’t who he’s pretending to be…

After cutting a deal to keep his brother safe, Scottish heartthrob Blaine Galloway is hiding from the press. But his secret identity starts to slip the second he meets small-town blogger, Janie. Now the press is hot on their heels and Blaine’s life is tumbling into a tabloid-sponsored hell. Coincidence? He’s not so sure.

Excerpt:

 

Janie looked the guy dead in the eyes again and boom, her ovaries practically melted. The way those blue eyes looked at her? Lethal. The light shifted, and through the lust fug clouding her vision like fog, she changed her mind. They weren’t blue eyes. They were some sort of crazy, ocean full of sequins with blue curaçao punch mixed together eyes. And were they sparkling? Hells yes they were. It took everything she had not to melt into a blubbering mess, but she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to do that ever again, so she straightened. She could talk to men. She would talk to men. That was part of what she came here for.

“Boston, cute name. Not very Texan, but cute. What sort of dog is he?”

Gawd, that accent. What was it, Scottish? Did someone forget to tell McDashing that this was Thailand and not the set of Outlander? “A stupid one,” she said keeping her voice as steady as she could as she waited for the lust fog to lift. “Likes to chase mice down holes down at the tractor sheds and gets stuck with his ass waving in the air all the time.”

He chuckled, and those eyes were sparkling and they were looking at her like she was supposed to say something more. Like she should do something. Hell, those eyes almost wrapped her up and took her to bed. Girlfriend, you need to sit down a second. Guy could be a serial killer and you’re lust-whoring after his eyes and insisting he come to your room? Since when do you do that? Janie gave herself a little shake. She’d clearly only just gotten out of Little Acre in time before she lost all sense of reason. Putting a hand to her stomach, she tried to still what felt like a giant herd of Thai elephants rather than butterflies trampling through her intestines. What the heck was that? There were no feels to be felt here. She blinked hard to try and focus, and the lust fog finally lifted.

“Boston is a mongrel. Floppy thing, a bit like Ryan Gosling’s mutt. Not that you care about Ryan Gosling enough to know what his dog looks like. Or even know who Ryan Gosling is. Still, Boston’s mine and despite his stupidity I love him to bits. Saved him from getting himself shot.” Janie made herself shut up. Oversharing much? “Anyway. I’m Janie. My room is over there, I’m as normal as a steering wheel on a tractor, and you’re still dripping.” She pointed to his shirt.

He looked down and sighed. “So I am.” Unbuttoning the first couple of buttons, he pulled the shirt over his head to reveal an intricate tattoo that took up most of his left chest and shoulder. And also… Holy six-pack of heaven. Her fingers itched to touch it, to smooth the dampness away. The elephants in her stomach trumpeted their agreement.

Then he put his hand in his shorts pocket. “Och, damn and bollocks.”

“What?” Janie managed to get the words out past the saliva. Heck, at least she wasn’t openly drooling.

“My cell. It’s got your cocktail on it.”

BUY:

ABOUT MICHELE DE WINTON:

It’s no wonder that Michele’s first romance has a little sparkle of the stage tucked into its pages as she was a performer long before she got adicted to the page. Being a writer was not what she was supposed to be when she ‘grew up’ but then neither was a dancer. Her poor parents. They thought that when she toddled off to law school they’d bred a responsible, useful adult and instead they got a performer and word junkie.
She now writes full time in a studio surrounded by the whisper of wind in the trees and only intermittent interruptions from her young son, husband and hunger pangs. She’s based in New Zealand (land of beaches and hobbits) loves chocolate, yoga, sunshine, her boys and happy endings.

You can get in touch through facebook or twitter or through her website and blog www.micheledewinton.com

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Kieran Scott, Author of PRETTY FIERCE, Talks About Kickbutt Heroines (with a giveaway!)

I reviewed PRETTY FIERCE here, in case you missed it 🙂

One of my favorite things about writing PRETTY FIERCE was trying to figure out what Kaia would do next. I don’t consider myself to be particularly brave—except for the fact that I don’t mind public speaking which is one of those things that keeps people awake at night. But I imagine that if I were ever in a situation like Kaia is in—being pursued by bad guys, hunted down at every turn, forced to try to protect the man I loved—I’d probably end up a ball of blubbering mush in a corner. So when I was writing her, I would try to imagine the exact opposite of what I would do in a given situation, and then write that. More often than not, it ended up being the thing that I wish I would have the guts to do, but really just couldn’t imagine myself doing. And that’s what I think makes a great kick-butt heroine—someone who allows us to see the possibilities of what we could do—what we could be—if we could find that deep well of courage within ourselves.

Here is one of my favorite kick-butt heroines:

Veronica Mars – Veronica Mars:

Veronica’s best kick-butt quality was her ability to slay with her tongue. That girl could cut down a redwood tree with one well-placed and sarcastically delivered barb—no roundhouse kicking or right-hook punching necessary. She was also constantly putting herself in dangerous situations in order to help others, never much caring for her own safety—and then she’d talk her way out of them whenever she was caught. The talent Veronica had was to say the thing you wished you’d said in the moment, but only thought of an hour later. She always had it ready to go.

 

KIERAN SCOTT is the author of several acclaimed young adult novels, including the Non-Blonde Cheerleader trilogy, the He’s So/She’s So trilogy, and Geek Magnet. She also wrote the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Private and Privilege series under the pen name Kate Brian. She is a senior editor at Disney/Hyperion and resides in New Jersey with her family. Visit kieranscott.net.

 

Title: Pretty Fierce
Author: Kieran Scott
Pub Date: April 4, 2017

An action-packed, edge-of-your-seat novel about a teen who, when backed into a corner, fights back, from the author of What Waits in the Woods

Kaia has been on the run her whole life. The daughter of professional assassins, she knows danger—and she’ll do anything to survive. After her parents vanished during a job gone bad, Kaia’s spent the last year in hiding, trying to blend in as an ordinary teenager, and there’s no one who makes her feel more normal, more special, than her boyfriend, Oliver.

But when she’s attacked by someone from her mother’s past and Oliver catches her fighting back, Kaia’s secret is exposed. In a split-second decision, she flees the small town, taking Oliver with her. Stalked at every turn, Oliver and Kaia must protect each other…or die trying.

Excerpt:

KAIA

I turned on the speed, caught up to the van, and jumped off my board. It rolled ahead and bumped to a stop at a sewer drain next to the curb.

“Oliver!” I tried the door, but it didn’t budge. I pounded on it so hard my fists stung. Oliver shouted, but I couldn’t make out the words.

“Let him go!” I screeched. “He has nothing to do with this!”

The light turned green and they were off again. I groaned, grabbed my board, and followed. As I maneuvered Sophia around an ancient manhole cover I memorized the license plate.

Illinois 851 BCG.

Illinois 851 BCG.

Illinois 851 BCG.

My breath was short, and I honestly felt as if my heart was about to overload. I couldn’t keep up this pace much longer. Up ahead, a police car idled in front of a coffee shop. As I rolled closer I could see two men in blue through the plate glass window, sucking on coffee and laughing.

Would they help me? If I got the cops involved, they’d want my ID. And while I had a fake passport on me, I couldn’t risk it being entered in some database and possibly alerting the authorities of my whereabouts. Even more importantly, if the police got Oliver, they’d send him right back to South Carolina, to Robin, to that hell. I couldn’t let that happen. Anonymity was key. We really were in this together.

I pressed as hard as I could, almost biffing on some roadkill and hopping the larger cracks in the road. At each light, I closed the distance between us, and I nearly got close enough to grab the back fender, but then the van took off and changed lanes, and I lost my advantage. Then the kidnappers hooked a left onto a residential street, and I made it across the main drag seconds before the light turned green. A motorcycle zoomed past me, so close I swore the driver’s leather jacket brushed the back of my backpack.

I turned onto the street and didn’t see the van anywhere. It must have pulled into a driveway or a garage. I gave myself ten seconds, gasping for breath as I leaned against a wrought iron fence post, then kept moving.

The street was quiet, aside from dance music playing somewhere in the distance, the repetitive thump of the bass keeping time with my pulse. I hopped off Sophia and ducked down the first driveway on foot, thinking it would be better to stay away from the glare of the streetlights. For a second I crouched next to a busted wood fence and strapped Sophia to my backpack, then cut across a backyard with unkempt grass and a stone barbecue pit at its center.

The garages on the street were all detached and sat at the end of long driveways near the back corner of each property. I paused and took out my Beretta. The steel felt cool against my palm, and I prayed no one would give me a reason to use it. But I would if I had to. I would for Oliver.

At the next house, I peeked inside the foggy garage window and saw nothing but piles of boxes.

The dance music was getting louder. The next garage housed a small car covered by a brown tarp. The third was another mess of storage. At the fourth house, I was close enough to the music to hear the laughter and raised voices that went along with it. I had to scale a fence to get to this garage and when I came down on the other side, I nearly slammed my head against a pile of old kegs. The scent of stale beer hung in the air, and there were cigarette butts everywhere. Lovely.

I brushed myself off and righted my backpack. Cars packed the driveway, and the house was entirely lit up. Two girls hung out on the back porch, smoking and sipping from red cups. Over their heads, propped up on the porch roof, were three illuminated letters. BBΓ. And at the very edge of the driveway, hanging over onto the sidewalk, was a big, white, van.

What the hell?

A chorus of cheers went up inside the house. My eyes narrowed as I shoved my short, sweaty hair behind my ears. Suddenly, I wasn’t in such a huge rush. I pushed the gun into the back waistband of my jeans and made sure my jacket covered it.

Stepping out of the shadows, I cut across the lawn and walked up the steps to the rear porch where the two girls sat. They eyed me as I strode past and opened the back door.

“Ladies,” I said.

One of them scoffed, but neither made a move to stop me. Inside, I found myself in a huge, brightly lit, mostly white kitchen packed with dozens upon dozens of miniskirt-sporting, overly made-up girls with straightened hair. The dance music was deafening. Everyone was drinking, laughing, shrieking. And in the center of it all was my boyfriend, shirtless, leaning his head back while two buxom babes poured alcohol from two bottles directly down his throat.

“Um, Oliver?” I said.

He brought his chin down too fast and spit brown liquid everywhere. A few drops even landed on my cheek.

“Ew!” the girls chorused.

Oliver wiped the back of his hand across his lips and widened his eyes at me. “They made me do it!”

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Chapter Reveal! FRACTURED SILENCE by Carrie Ann Ryan (A Talon Pack novel)

Carrie Ann Ryan’s FRACTURED SILENCE releases April 18th…but we couldn’t wait that long! You can get a sneak peek at the first chapter of FRACTURED SILENCE below!

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About FRACTURED SILENCE:

The Talon Pack continues with a dark secret that could shatter the future of the Packs, or save them all.

Parker Jamenson is the son of three Packs, the sole mediator between every Pack in the United States and Europe, and…he’s dying. He knows he doesn’t have much left in him and is in desperate need of a mate. But with the new and unyielding changes thanks to the Moon Goddess, he might not have as much time as he thinks.

Brandon Brentwood is the Omega of the Talon Pack and the youngest of his family. He’s not only one of the famed triplets; he’s also the most secretive. There’s a good reason for that, however, and when a shocking revelation meshes the past and present in a very unexpected way, he’ll look to not only Parker but also a disgraced human to save them all.

Avery Montag knows she’s the daughter of a traitor and doesn’t have much to give the wolves in the way of atonement. But she’ll do everything she can to pay for her father’s sins and find a way to end the war between the humans and the wolves.

When the three turn to each other in a time of unrest and for vastly different reasons, temptation burns and seduction beckons. Only, the past, present, and future are never as solid as they seem, and the path the trio thought to travel may just vanish before they’re ready.

Add FRACTURED SILENCE to your Goodreads list here!

Fractured Silence (1)

FRACTURED SILENCE releases April 18th – preorder your copy now!

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Get a Sneak Peek at the First Chapter of FRACTURED SILENCE
Chapter One

Before

Parker Jamenson woke with a start as someone knocked on the door to the small cabin he’d been staying in for the duration of his visit to this particular European Pack. Using his wolf’s senses, he inhaled deeply, noting that the person on the other side of the door was one of the younger wolves that had shown him around when he’d first gotten there. He hadn’t met most of the Pack, as the people of the den hadn’t been too keen on his presence. He’d only just fallen asleep in the armchair fully clothed, exhausted from the trip.

He’d already spoken to the Alpha about coming together with the Redwoods in times of war, but the damn man hadn’t been too eager to reveal his existence to the world. All Alphas were required to meet with Parker as the Voice of the Wolves because he was goddess-touched, but that didn’t mean they had to listen. Hell, most of them would rather bury their heads in the sand and ignore what was going on around them. And while his own Pack might be older than most in the United States, the European Packs were ancient and set in their ways. No one wanted to deal with the fact that the humans were aware of the shifters’ existence, but Parker knew that soon, no one would have a choice.

He opened the door after a moment and nodded at the young woman on the other side. “Tatiana.”

She smiled coyly at him before licking her lips. He could scent her wolf brushing up against her skin, wanting touch, but Parker wasn’t interested. He just wanted to get this meeting with the elders over with and head back home. Her long, honey-colored hair had been in a braid when he’d first met her, but now it looked as if she’d brushed it out over her shoulders and back so it cascaded over her curves. She’d also put on a long, white, flowing dress instead of the tan one she’d worn when he’d shown up.

And though she looked to be his same age and her power felt even younger, she dressed as if she were some maiden from a bygone era on the hunt for a knight.

Parker would not be that knight— no matter how much those eyes of hers flashed yearning.

“Parker,” she breathed. “I’m to take you to the elder circle for your last meeting before you go.” A pause. “It’s a shame we didn’t have more time to get to know one another while you were here. I understand you leave in the morning, but perhaps the meeting won’t take long, and I can show you more of the grounds. I’m sure your wolf could use some exercise.” She smiled. “And though it’s not a full moon, there’s just enough moonlight for the run to be… thrilling.”

He held back a chuckle that wanted to spill out since that would have been rude. She wasn’t hiding anything she wanted, and while he might have appreciated that on another day, he just wanted to go home. Besides, his wolf wasn’t interested in the woman in front of him, and while that might not matter for a quick night of heat, he didn’t have it in him to ignore his wolf tonight. Maybe I’m getting older, and in need of a mate, he thought. Or maybe he was just tired and missed his family. Either way, Tatiana wasn’t for him.

“I’m afraid I will have to get ready to head out after the elder circle.” He held back a frown at the crestfallen look on her face. They hadn’t said more than a few words before this, and though he was a new wolf to her, he wasn’t the only healthy adult male wolf around.

“I understand,” she said softly. “Follow me, then.” She turned without another word, but he didn’t miss the extra sway to her hips— an invitation if he were to change his mind.

Keeping his thoughts to himself so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt her again if he were to change his mind— which he wouldn’t— he followed her through the winding, dirt paths of the den toward the oldest part at the edge of the center. It made sense that this was where the elders chose to live— just slightly outside the most used part of the den for privacy but not near the edge in case of an attack. As elders, they were to not only be respected but also protected.

Tatiana left Parker with a nod, and he bent to walk under a low-lying branch so he could make it to the elder’s circle. Encircling the firepit were seven older wolves of various sizes— three women and four men. At his entry, they all looked up as a unit and stared at him.

If he hadn’t seen his own elders do this before, he would have been creeped out. Elder wolves were those who had either lost their mates long ago or had never been mated, so they didn’t have a connection to the new world or the Pack except through their bonds to the Alpha and those in the hierarchy. After living for centuries, some wolves could no longer deal with the drastic changes of society and chose to cloister themselves. Many of the wolves held immense power on their own because of their age and used that strength to protect the Pack in any way they could.

Parker looked back at the elders respectfully. Though each of the wolves had at least two centuries on him, none of them looked a day over thirty-five. Wolf genetics never ceased to amaze him and he’d been born a wolf.

“Parker Jamenson, of the Redwoods,” the woman closest to him said after a moment. “Welcome. I am Aurora. We’re pleased you were able to take the time to meet with us before you head out on your journey home.”

Parker bowed his head in deference. “I will always meet with my elders, Aurora. To ignore those who have lived the past is to ignore what the future may bring.”

She smiled softly at his words and gestured for him to sit down before introducing him to the others. He kept their names in the back of his mind, but he knew that it was Aurora who led here, and she would be the one to speak.

“We’ve asked you to join us because we believe we have something that once belonged to your people. Your line.”

Parker’s eyes widened. “The Redwoods?” How did something of theirs find its way here?

“Not that line.” Aurora’s eyes went gold, her wolf rising to the surface. “The line of the first hunter. You are the son of the son of the son of the line of the first hunter, are you not?”

Parker froze. Not many people knew that his family came from that line. In fact, he’d only recently learned that his ancestor was the first human to be made into a wolf by the moon goddess as a punishment for what the man had done to defenseless prey. She’d forced the man to become the thing he killed for sport, compelled him to share a soul with that of a wolf. From there, new wolves were made, and shifters were born.

His uncle, Logan, had dealt with horrible side effects from that past, but other than his strength, Parker hadn’t really thought about what that meant. Logan had been far too aggressive even at a young age, and it had taken him years to learn how to fully control his wolf. He, like Parker, had also had to learn how to use their strength wisely when they’d been mere pups and still had to deal with some bursts of overextension some days. The family bloodline was diluted over time, and Parker had had more recent issues with it thanks to his birth father. His mother might be of the line of their honorable ancestors and campfire stories, but his birth father had been one of nightmares. He’d never truly met the man as he’d been young when Corbin died, but he knew the stories. Knew that the former Central Alpha had killed countless in his quest for power.

He pushed that thought out of his head, as he knew just letting it in would enrage him.

“I’m of that line, yes,” he answered after a moment. No need to lie as he had a feeling these wolves knew far more than this. “What did you find?” he asked.

Aurora nodded at one of the male wolves after Parker had spoken. The male stood up with shaky hands, a large box wrapped in cloth clasped between them.

Aurora took it gently from him. “This box is made of the woods of our people— Redwood, Aspen, Oak, and so forth. It is said those first Packs, along with the first ever, came together to make it.”

Parker frowned. “What’s in the box?”

“Open it and see.”

Though his wolf had stood at attention as soon as they’d mentioned the box, it wasn’t until Aurora unwrapped it— keeping her hands on the cloth rather than the wood— that his wolf howled.

He frowned. “I’m not going to open something I haven’t looked into with wolves I don’t know. I’m sorry if that’s disrespectful, but that just doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”

Aurora’s eyes flashed, but he had a feeling it was more out of respect than anger. “It’s good you’re cautious. That will help.”

“Help what?”

“There is a prophecy,” she said after a moment. He blinked.

“A prophecy?” Why did he feel like he’d suddenly jumped into an old Indiana Jones movie?

Aurora’s eyes unfocused as she spoke in a deeper voice.

“A wolf of three Packs can break their will or unite them all.

“Once united, the Packs will reveal…

“If broken, the Packs will fall…”

Parker’s wolf rushed to the surface at her words, and he tried to blink, attempted to reach out and catch the woman as she fell forward after she’d finished speaking. Only he felt as if he were moving slower than usual, his mind not quite where it should be. His hand brushed the top of the box, and it slid to the ground, opening on impact.

He looked down, his head going fuzzy, his mouth dry.

An ancient dagger, or perhaps the tip of a spear, rolled out of the box amidst a dust cloud that slapped at his face.

“The weapon of the first hunter,” Aurora croaked before passing out completely. The others surrounded them, yet he could do nothing but try to keep himself upright.

Parker tried to speak but couldn’t force his mouth to work. Instead, his body broke out in a cold sweat, and he fell face-first to the ground.

The last thing he thought about before passing out was his family.

They weren’t here to help him.

No one was here to help him.

He was all alone.

And it was his fault.

Again.

About Carrie Ann Ryan:

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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Excerpt Reveal and Giveaway! CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER PUCK BUNNY by Cindi Madsen (Taking Shots #4)

 

Every addict has their relapse.
 
CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER PUCK BUNNY
Taking Shots #4
Cindi Madsen
Releasing May 8th, 2017
Entangled Embrace
Confession #1: I used to be a puck bunny, but after a hockey player broke my heart, I gave up all things hockey. Now I’m just focused on finding a way to pass my math class so I can graduate college.
 
Confession #2: Ryder “Ox” Maddox’s deep, sexy voice sends fuzzy tingles through my entire body, and I’m powerless to stop it. Which is a big problem since the hot, surprisingly funny hockey player is my new math tutor.
 
Confession #3: I can’t stop thinking about how ripped Ryder is from all his hockey training, and how fun it’d be to cross lines with him.
 
Confession #4: I kissed a hockey player and I liked it.
Confession #5: If I’m not careful, I might relapse and fall for Ryder, and then I’ll be totally pucked.  

 

 

Every thought turned to how strong he was. How much I’d like to see all those muscles without a shirt in the way.

Once he’d counted off twenty-five, he stood and, as if he’d been reading my mind, peeled off his shirt.

I stared. Not subtly, either. Nope, totally unabashed, taking in every dip and groove of his sweat-glistened skin.

“Since we’re playing dirty,” he said, shooting his wadded shirt over to his bag. He grabbed my hand. “Last machine. I’m not sure you can handle it, though.”

“I’m not sure you can handle it.” As far as comebacks went, not my best, but I mentioned he was shirtless and crazy ripped, right?

He sat down on the leg machine, the one where the seat reclined at a forty-five-degree angle, and then he lifted the weighted bar that rested at shin-height with his legs.

He reached for my hand, and since I’d already talked trash, I took it, even though I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He pulled me toward him, and I had no choice but to run my shins into the weights or to straddle the machine. I chose straddling, but kept space between us like I had earlier.

My heart hammered against my rib cage, beating in time with his leg lifts, the steady clink of the weights filling the air. Ryder’s eyes remained locked on mine, and energy crackled in the air between us. He sat up enough to run his hands up my thighs.

A dart of heat shot through my core, and my breath lodged in my throat. Ryder’s fingertips skimmed the skin between my pants and shirt and desire danced across my nerve endings. Still our eyes remained fixed on each other, and I wasn’t sure I was taking in oxygen anymore.

A distant part of me whispered that if I didn’t stop this…whatever we were doing, I’d be in trouble. But fighting my attraction to him was exhausting and the ache that’d formed between my thighs grew more persistent, drowning out silly things like common sense.

I leaned over like I had before, my hands braced on either side of him. He lifted the weights again, and then he brushed his lips against mine. Just a quick slide of soft lips.

My throat went completely dry. I pressed my palm flat against his stomach and slowly slid it up, feeling his firm chest and the hammering of his heart, which echoed mine.

Ryder gripped my hips and pulled me down to sit on his lap, eradicating the space between us. He lifted the weights with his legs a few more times, each rep bumping me tighter to him. Friction was definitely happening, and with each lift, it became clearer and clearer how much it was affecting him as well.

The tiniest whimper escaped my lips and he raised an eyebrow that added even more smugness to the curve of his tempting mouth.

Two could play dirty. So I sank farther into his lap and he groaned.

Of course, all it did was give me dirty thoughts and turn me on that much more.

He lifted his legs two more times, the movement shaky. He slowly ran his fingertips up my arm, across my collarbone, up my neck, and then he reached back and tugged my hair free of its ponytail.

He drove his hand into my hair, cupped the back of my head, and for one torturous moment, time stopped, both of us suspended right there on edge of crossing lines.


Cindi Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a pretty new pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music and dancing and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children. 

You can visit her Website, where you can sign up for her newsletter to get all the up-to-date information on her books. 

 

 

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