New Release Excerpt! SEIZE TODAY by Pintip Dunn (Forget Tomorrow #3)

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Title: Seize Today
Author: Pintip Dunn
Release Date: Oct 3, 2017
Publisher: Entangled TEEN

 

Synopsis:

Conclusion to the New York Times bestselling and award-winning series, Forget Tomorrow. 

Seventeen-year-old Olivia Dresden is a precognitive. Since different versions of people’s futures flicker before her eyes, she doesn’t have to believe in human decency. She can see the way for everyone to be their best self-if only they would make the right decisions. No one is more conflicted than her mother, and Olivia can only watch as Chairwoman Dresden chooses the dark, destructive course every time. Yet Olivia remains fiercely loyal to the woman her mother could be.

But when the chairwoman captures Ryder Russell, the striking and strong-willed boy from the rebel Underground, Olivia sees a vision of her own imminent death…at Ryder’s hand. Despite her bleak fate, she rescues Ryder and flees with him, drawing her mother’s fury and sparking a romance as doomed as Olivia herself. As the full extent of Chairwoman Dresden’s gruesome plan is revealed, Olivia must find the courage to live in the present-and stop her mother before she destroys the world.

 

Excerpt:

“Are you sifting through my possible pathways?” he asks, his voice husky.

I freeze. But if I’m a block of ice, his fingers do their job, tracing my lips again and again until I melt. “How…how do you know?”

“Your eyes,” he says. “They dilate when you’re reaching into the future. I’m starting to learn when you’re not here.”

I blink. Nobody’s ever told me that before.

“You…noticed?” I ask.

“I notice everything about you,” he says easily. “So, tell me. What did you see in our possible futures?” His voice is low and liquid, and it reaches inside me and caresses parts I didn’t know existed. “What did I do? More importantly, what did you like?”

Heat floods my face. “What, exactly, are we talking about?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes gleam wickedly. “What do you think we’re talking about?”

“Future pathways,” I snap. If I have to electro-whip my attention back on track, I’ll do it, damn the Fates. “I see everything from me slapping you to…” I trail off, and my cheeks flame even hotter. Oh my. I can’t possibly put into words the images flying through my head like a hailstorm.

“Now I’m really intrigued.” He moves his hand to my hair, tugging slightly. I feel the tension all the way to my toes. “Are you really not going to tell me? Because, you know, then I’ll have to guess.”

“I’m not going to tell you,” I whisper.

His lips curve in a mischievous grin that makes me want to tuck him in my pocket and keep him forever. And then, while I’m still reeling from his cuteness, he leans in.

I’m not ready. My mouth is partway open, and I’m in the middle of a breath. He kisses me anyway. I shut my mouth in a hurry. Lips, so soft. His back and shoulders, so hard. Holy Fates, that was his tongue. His tongue, slipping between my teeth. Sparks. So many sparks, igniting in the air around us.

“How’s this?” he whispers against my mouth. “Did you see this in our future?”

I nod helplessly.

He moves closer, scooping me up and shifting me on the mattress so that he can lie next to me. Our foreheads touch; so do our knees. “And this? Was this in some of our pathways?”

I nod again, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy him anymore. His eyes intent on mine, he catches my lower lip between his teeth. “Do you like it?”

Do I like it? What kind of question is that?

I’ve tasted every emotion in our world. I know the sorrow a mother feels when she clasps her deceased baby to her chest. I know the pride of a gold-star athlete when he stands on a podium and accepts North Amerie’s highest honor. I know the rage that silences the heart of a murderer as he cuts short another’s life.

I even know kisses—hot, frenzied, passionate, fumbling, sweet, aching, innocent kisses. I’ve seen them all in other people’s futures, thousands of kisses, millions of kisses, as varied as the pathways themselves.

And yet…and yet…I’ve felt nothing like kissing Ryder. Even the vision of this moment itself.

So, yeah, I like it. It scares me how much I like it.

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About the Author:

Pintip Dunn is a New York Times bestselling author of YA fiction. She graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School.

Pintip’s novel, FORGET TOMORROW, won the RWA RITA® for Best First Book. It is also a finalist for the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire, the Japanese Sakura Medal, the MASL Truman Award, and the Tome Society It list. In addition, THE DARKEST LIE was nominated for a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award. Her other books include REMEMBER YESTERDAY, SEIZE TODAY, and GIRL ON THE VERGE.

She lives with her husband and children in Maryland.

Social Media Links:

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New Release! LOVE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER by Tracey Livesay

Love Will Always Remember
by Tracey Livesay
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Publication Date: Avon Impulse

 

About the Book:

An accident changed Leighton Clarke’s life forever.

When she awakens from a coma, her childhood memories are intact but she possesses no memories of the past six years of her life. Terrified, anxious and disoriented, she’s only calmed by the presence of the gorgeous celebrity chef with compassionate brown eyes, the man who turns out to be her fiancée, Jonathan.

Jonathan Moran is tormented over his part in the deception that he’s Leighton’s fiancé. In truth, she’s engaged to his brother! Any day now, her memory is destined to return and she’ll remember it’s his fault she was injured. Meanwhile, the more time they spend together, the closer they become until Jonathan begins to wish the pretense of them being a couple was real.

And then Leighton’s memories come flooding back…

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Excerpt:

“What can I get for you?”

An elegant brow lifted. “You’re going to serve me?”

“I do it all.” He reached beneath the bar for a towel and slung it over his shoulder.

“I bet you do,” she murmured.

He stiffened. Had she actually said that or had his fantasy life taken over for a brief moment? He glanced at her, but her cool expression gave nothing away.

“Special service from a James Beard Award–winning chef. I’ll try to contain myself.”

“I’m sure my brother didn’t waste his breath extolling my achievements, so you’ve been checking up on me?”

He braced his arms against the bar and her eyes followed the motion, lingering. He could barely breathe. He had to force the oxygen into his body. No other woman had ever affected him in this way. Why her? He didn’t understand it.

She averted her gaze. “I check on everyone who comes into my life.”

He frowned. “I was just joking.”

“I wasn’t.” She placed her purse on the bar stool next to her.

Interesting. That type of vigilance made for a very lonely existence. And it wasn’t natural. Something had happened to make her believe such action was necessary. However, he didn’t get the feeling she would be amenable to sharing that information with him.

He straightened. “Now, about that drink . . . a cosmo, apple-tini, strawberry daiquiri?”

She exhaled and her lips quirked. “I appreciate you offering me some of your personal favorites, but I’ll take a Macallan 21 on the rocks.”

He hesitated. “You drink whiskey?”

It was rare, but he did know a few women who enjoyed the smooth spirit. He suspected his disbelief would annoy her.

He was right.

“Sexist, much?”

“Maybe, but it’s borne out by my fifteen years in the restaurant business.”

“Isn’t it wonderful to still be able to discover something new after all that time? An old dog can still learn . . . something.” Her sweet smile had him struggling to contain his grin.

He grabbed a lowball glass off the stack, added a couple of ice cubes and poured the drink. “M’lady.”

She took a sip. Her lashes fluttered and her jaw moved laterally as she coated her tongue with the flavors. The blood rushed straight to his dick again—it must have an E-Z pass—leaving him momentarily light-headed. Thank God he was standing behind the bar.

She set the glass down on the black cocktail napkin he’d provided. “What do you drink besides your beloved apple-tinis?”

She had jokes. One corner of his mouth tipped upward. That’s all he’d allow her. “Macallan’s good, but I prefer bourbon. Jefferson’s Presidential Select.”

“I’ve heard good things about Jefferson but I’ve never had the opportunity to try some,” Leighton said. “The stock is limited, right?”

“Yes, but I tracked down a case of the Seventeen.” He smiled, recalling the night he’d shared a bottle with Adam and Mike last year. “I’d be willing to part with a little bit.”

Silence met his offer. Then— “Maybe I can get Thomas to try it. He tends to stick to craft beers.”

His brother.

Her fiancé.

Right.

Big guilt keep on churning . . .

He turned to put the bottle he’d used on the back bar shelf where it belonged. “Yeah, well, my brother’s taste has always left a lot to desired.”

Only after the words were out did he realize how they sounded. He turned back in time to see the hurt on her face morph to anger. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

Her expression cut into him like an extremely sharp gyuto knife. She held up a hand as if to halt his words. “Then it’s a good thing your opinion makes no difference to our life at all.”

“No seriously. Leighton.” He rushed around the bar and reached for the hand that had fallen to her lap. He didn’t question his need for her to understand his words weren’t aimed at her. He dipped his head until he forced her to meet his eyes. “I swear, I wasn’t talking about you. My brother should be on his knees kissing someone’s ass every day, thanking his lucky stars that you’ve agreed to marry him.”

She stared at him, stone faced, and he feared he may have ruined whatever accord they’d managed to form.

Which was probably for the best.

But when her features began to soften and forgiveness seemed to follow, relief made him giddy and he couldn’t have stopped what he did next even if his very survival depended on it.

One taste. That’s all he needed.

He touched his lips to hers.

Time stopped.

He’d been wrong. He’d need much, much more.

He deepened the kiss, tasting, nibbling then moaning when her lips parted and she let him in. Her soft tongue glided against his and desire roared through him.

Her arms snaked around his waist and clutched his ass. She scooted forward on the stool, spreading her thighs and pulling him between them. His fingers skimmed along her jaw and slid through her hair, like air moving against silk.

His heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out any protests his rational mind tried to put forth. He didn’t care who she was, who he was, or why this could never be. He’d never experienced this kind of raw passion with anyone and in that moment, his only concern was giving her as much pleasure as she was giving him.

“Chef, do you want us to leave you—” Gib’s voice acted as fingers on a chalkboard, jarring and cringeworthy.

Leighton’s eyes flew open, and fear and disgust contorted her features. She pushed against his chest, catching him off guard, and he fell back into a neighboring bar stool.

Before he could process what was happening, she’d jumped from the stool and was running—quite a feat in her heels—to the front door.

He hurried after her. “Leighton!”

She pushed out into the night and paused looking left and right.

He saw the metal scaffolding falling and a roaring filled his ears.

Oh no! No! GODDAMMIT!!

He started to run. “Leighton, wait!”

He was too late.

About Tracey Livesay:

A former criminal defense attorney, Tracey Livesay finds crafting believable happily ever afters slightly more challenging than protecting our constitutional rights, but she’s never regretted following her heart instead of her law degree. She lives in Virginia with her husband—who she met on the very first day of law school—and their three children.

Tracey’s Links:

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New Release and Giveaway! HIGHLAND DRAGON WARRIOR by Isabel Cooper (Dawn of the Highland Dragon #1)

 

About the book:

The war may be over, but so long as English magic controls the Highlands, not even a dragon laird can keep his clan safe. What Cathal MacAlasdair needs is a warrior fierce enough to risk everything, yet gifted enough to outwit an enemy more monster than man.

What he needs is Sophia.

Alchemist Sophia Metzger traveled to Loch Arach in search of knowledge. She never dreamed she’d learn to do battle, ride through the stars on the back of a dragon, or catch the eye of a Highland laird. But as her quest turns to sizzling chemistry and inescapable danger, she’ll soon discover the thrill of being caught in a dragon’s claws..

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Excerpt:

Carrying a passenger was a new experience for Cathal, made doubly tense by the urgency of their errand and triply so because it was Sophia astride his back. He climbed above the clouds as smoothly as he could, and as quickly, since hesitation wouldn’t be useful. When he leveled out and felt Sophia’s weight still securely in place, with her breathing steady next to him, relief ran through him like strong drink.

Navigating by the stars, he flew slowly toward the south and Valerius’s lands, avoiding when he could any winds that would make him rise or fall too steeply or angle too sharply. It was not the most exciting bit of flying he’d ever done, but he wasn’t eager for it to end. Having Sophia close, even when he wasn’t in human shape, with the stars arcing overhead and the whole wide sky spread out before him… He could have stayed for far longer.

In time, reluctantly and more gently than he’d ascended, he dove back under the clouds to look for landmarks. He noted the small flecks of light from manors and stayed as far away as he could. Cottages were only lumps in the darkness, far harder to avoid, but they mattered less. Any peasant could claim to have seen a dragon, but it would take far longer for the story to reach anyone who knew its significance, and by that time, God willing, they’d be gone and Valerius dead.

For a while he could hear owls and bats, the few among his fellow creatures of the air who went abroad at night. Like most animals, they stayed well away from him, but he knew their cries as part of a familiar chorus.

As they approached Valerius’s lands, that chorus faded. They didn’t travel in silence as they’d done above the clouds, but the night birds’ calls were few, and many sounded weaker. Odd: he’d have expected more bats and owls near the sorcerer’s domain. Most said they were creatures of the devil.

Granted, most said that about dragons too.

Near the same time, the air changed. Cathal didn’t think anyone human would have noticed the faint staleness to it, or the slight suggestion of rot, but both were there, and got stronger the closer he flew. The colors of the land below him were muted too, even for early spring, and about them there was a hint of grayish-red, like a wound gone bad.

The land is poisoned, Lady Bellecote had said.

No wonder the birds sounded unhealthy; no wonder the crops never did very well. Even the edge of Valerius’s domain was wrong, though wrong in a way few humans could have pinpointed or even spoken about. Cathal didn’t think he needed to view the place through magical sight. For certes, he desired no such thing.

With everything in him, he wished to turn back. The thought of setting foot on the corrupted land was repugnant, and the idea of sending Sophia alone into it was worse. He felt his lips pull back into a snarl, exposing his teeth as if he could threaten Valerius from this distance—or rip his throat out—and he knew both impulses to be futile.

Only one course of action stood a chance of helping.

Near the border was a small stand of trees, far enough from any cottages that Cathal doubted anyone would come here until high summer, if that. He circled slowly down to a landing, wincing at the first contact with the earth.

It didn’t hurt, precisely. But it felt more yielding and more clinging than snowmelt or rain would explain, and he thought of how Sophia had described the earth in her dreams.

He could have no doubts about whose land they’d found.

Holding still, he felt Sophia extracting herself from the harness, then watched as she slid to the ground. Their surroundings didn’t seem to disgust her. She smiled brilliantly up at him. “That was wonderful. Amazing. I-I would write a book, would anyone believe me, and did it not expose you and yours too greatly. I… Well, I thank you.”

On the last, she ducked her head, her dark lashes long against her cheeks, and then began to undo the harness until Cathal shook his head at her.

“Oh? Very well,” she said and stepped back.

He changed. The world became bigger and higher; as always, it took a moment or two before he felt as though he moved right. He was standing in the middle of the harness, within a loop quite large enough for his body. Sophia comprehended, and laughed quietly.

“I believe I can get it back on when I return,” she said. “I hope, at least.”

“It won’t matter so much then. We’ll likely not have to hide on our way out, so I’ll not need to go so high so fast.”

“Oh,” Sophia said, and smiled again, equally brilliantly. “It’s almost a disappointment, truly. But then, if it’s in the day, it might be just as interesting to see the world from on high—and I suppose I shouldn’t be anticipating anything just yet,” she added, the smile dying.

Cathal wished he had the words to bring her smile back, or that it would be just to do so. All he could do was nod. “Seven days?”

“I should think that time enough, or as much time as we can afford. It’s not a large place.” They’d planned all this at the castle. Now they confirmed it, as much because a plan was reassuring as to keep the details fresh in their minds. “Should I need to stay longer, I’ll do my best to come back here and give you that message. And if I’m not back in seven days, you will go back to the castle.”

It was not a request, nor even a recommendation. “You’ve been speaking with Douglas.”

“He told me nothing I couldn’t have reasoned out for myself. If I… If the worst happens,” she said, and smoothed her hands over her skirt, “you’ll need to get word back, and it’ll do no good to have you come in breathing fire from above, most likely. If you go back then, you and your family can perhaps send men in, or come yourselves, or…or try the sorts of magic you know.”

There was no gap in her reasoning, no hole that Cathal could find to justify any argument. He would’ve given years of his life for one, but there was nobody to take him up on that offer, and so he could only nod. Where Sophia was going, he’d be more hindrance than help. Again he had to wait, and hope, and know himself to be useless.

Just so, it came to him, how the women in the camps must have felt before battles. His mother too, mayhap. Real war had been more distant in Cathal’s youth; his mother had been a sorceress who could aid her husband from a distance; and even in age, Artair was harder to kill than the rocks around them, but there were always threats.

If they endured, so could he. It was no new thing, sending one’s—

Before Cathal’s mind could supply the word and shock him further, Sophia spoke again. “I believe I’m well supplied enough for the journey. If you think you’ll need food, waiting, I can leave some.”

Cathal shook his head. “I’ll hunt. Should I get desperate, I’ll take a sheep and leave the coin for it later. And I’ve gone a fair few days without food before.”

“If you’re in danger,” she said, “if we were wrong and he can track your presence even here, if you have to leave, you should. Leave me a sign if you can, but if I return and you’re not here, I’ll wait a night, then try to make my way back to your lands.”

“My father’s.”

Sophia waved a hand, not understanding why the distinction was important. In truth, Cathal wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to make it just then, but it had been irresistible. “I’m only human, and there’s nothing exceptional about me. And I have coin and skills. I’ll be all right.”

“Don’t,” he said. It was almost a growl, but she didn’t flinch.

“Very well. I have as good a chance as anyone of being all right. Better than many people would have. It…” He saw the whites of her wide eyes, the swell of her breasts as she gulped air, and the swift motion with which she pushed back a stray lock of hair, as if she could tuck away fear as quickly and completely. “It shall suffice, yes?”

“It must,” said Cathal.

He wanted to tell her again that she didn’t need to do this. She could turn away from the path before her and the blighted place to which it led. She’d done enough. But that would be insulting, he knew, and besides, it was no longer the truth. The journey into Valerius’s domain was the best hope that any of them had. Sophia was the best person to make it now.

And so there was nothing more he could do.

“We will come for you,” he said. “If you’re captured. I’ll pluck Agnes out of her tower if I need to and get her to weave spells for us, or I’ll drag my father home from his treaties. Or I’ll manage what’s needed myself. I can, given time.”

Unexpectedly, she smiled again, and in her smile was an echo of those hours flying beneath the stars, with only the two of them and no need for words. Even Cathal didn’t see her move when she stepped forward. She flowed toward him, reached up, and cupped the side of his face in one hand. “I would never doubt it,” Sophia said.

“You’re wrong,” he said thickly, and clasped her shoulders in his hands. She looked up at him, startled, about to argue the point. “Not about rescue. Earlier.”

“Wha—”

“Everything about you is exceptional,” he said, and kissed her before she could reply.

Rather, she didn’t reply in words. Her response was as desperate as his embrace. Sophia didn’t melt into his arms so much as throw hers around him, grasping him with the urgent strength he remembered from the flight, now colored and transformed by sensuality. As her mouth opened before his, her hands roamed his back, short nails almost scoring his skin even through his clothing.

He kissed her as if by sheer force he could make them both forget what waited, as though with his lips and tongue and his hands on her breasts he could himself cast a spell to banish Valerius to whatever hell would claim him in the end. He drank Sophia’s little gasps of desire like the strongest wine and wanted nothing more than to hear those sounds, to feel her fingers twined in his hair, to think of nothing else, to think nothing at all.

 

About the author:

During the day, ISABEL COOPER maintains her guise as a mild-mannered project manager in legal publishing. In her spare time, she enjoys video games, ballroom dancing, various geeky hobbies, and figuring out what wine goes best with leftover egg rolls. Cooper lives with two thriving houseplants in Boston, Massachusetts.

Giveaway:
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New Release Excerpt and Giveaway! CHASING RED by Isabelle Ronin

THEY SAID SHE WAS GOING TO BE MY RUIN…

THEN LET HER RUIN ME.

He had everything—wealth, adoration, a brilliant future. Until one chance encounter changed everything.

The moment Caleb Lockhart spotted the mysterious woman in her siren red dress, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

For the first time in his life, he wanted something. Something he knew he could never have.

The unforgettable stranger he dubs RED.

Excerpt:

It was late when I arrived at Caleb’s apartment. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. I might not have gotten a job offer, but I’d gotten my résumé into as many hands as possible. It had been a very productive day.

Opening the fridge, I wondered how fast I could make Caleb’s dinner so I could slip into my bedroom before he returned home—but the fridge was as empty as my bank account.

I groaned in defeat when I heard the front door open. But when I heard heavy footsteps coming from the living room, I reached for my pocketknife in case it wasn’t Caleb. I’d already made one mistake, but still—better safe than sorry.

“Red?”

I let out a sigh of relief when I heard Caleb’s voice. He was sprawled on the couch, remote control in hand as he turned on the TV. His black leather shoes and dinner jacket decorated the floor. Discarding his clothes there seemed to be a habit.

I stood behind him, admiring the way the bronze in his hair glinted in the light.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, propping his feet on the coffee table.

“I just got back. I’ll make you something now if you want.”

He looked over his shoulder at me. If my heart tripped—which it totally didn’t—it was a normal and healthy reaction to seeing a gorgeous face. It didn’t mean anything.

“Are you trying to butt out of our bargain already?” he asked, turning back to the TV.

Insulted, I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “Unless you want orange juice soup with Pop-Tart croutons, you need to go to the store. We don’t have any groceries.”

He rested his head on the couch headrest and arched up and over so that he was looking at me upside down. “You’re giving me a neck injury. Why don’t you come around so we can talk like normal human beings?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He sighed. In a smooth move, he straightened, turned, then climbed to sit on top of the couch. He playfully studied me. “I’m bored,” he stated.

I raised my eyebrows. Did he expect me to entertain him? “And?”

“You owe me dinner.”

“I told you—”

A grin stretched across his face as he loosened his red tie. “You can pay me another way.”

My jaw fell open.

He laughed. “Why is your mind always in the gutter?”

I blinked once. Twice. My mind was always in the gutter?

He pushed off the couch, put his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and helmet from the coffee table, and walked past me. I thought he was going to leave when I felt his hand circle around my wrist, dragging me out the door with him.

“Oh for God’s sake, where are you taking me?”

God, he was tall. For every step he took, I had to take two to keep up.

He pressed the elevator button. “For a ride.”

“A ride?”

He started laughing as he pulled me inside the elevator, pressed the Down button, and watched the door close. “I’ve never met a girl who twisted my words as much as you do. You have a filthy mind, Red. Filthy.”

“What the… A filthy mind!” I sputtered.

When the elevator door opened, he dragged me into the basement parking garage.

“A ride.” He clucked his tongue. “On my bike.”

I pulled my wrist from his hold, rubbing my hand against my jeans. His skin was hot and made me feel strange things.

He stopped and glanced back at me. “Problem?”

“It’s Sunday night. Don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“So?” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m in college, not high school. I can skip class if I want.”

“Of course you can. You’re rich. You don’t have to work for anything.”

His eyes darkened, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, giving me a long look. “Do you like to be judged for being poor? You think having money saves me from pain?”

Chastised, I fell silent. When I opened my mouth to apologize, he cut me off. “You coming or not?”

I nodded, feeling guilty, and followed behind.

When he stopped in front of a sleek black machine, I stared at him in disbelief. It looked like it ate kids for breakfast.

“Ever ride a bike before?” he asked, tossing his black helmet from hand to hand like a basketball.

I took a step back. “I’m not riding that monster.”

His laugh was low and sexy. He grabbed my wrist again and pulled me close—closer than was necessary.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his thumb stroking my palm in lazy circles. “I have a feeling you’re going to like it.”

My breath hitched, and he chuckled when I pulled away.

“N-no. I’d like to keep my limbs intact, thank you very much.”

His eyes danced at me playfully. “Yeah? Where’s the fun in that? Rule number one,” he said, gently placing the helmet on my head, “safety first.” He fastened the straps tightly under my chin.

“Rule number two,” he continued, flipping the visor down. I felt slightly claustrophobic so I flipped it back up. “When I’m making a turn, lean your body toward the turn. Never the opposite way. Got it?”

“Sure.”

He smiled down at me, staring for a moment. I wanted to bottle the color of his vibrant green eyes. Realizing I was staring, I shook the thought from my mind and snapped, “What?”

He shrugged, then swung his long leg to straddle his bike. “Hop on.”

When I didn’t, he turned his head, eyebrows raised and eyes glinting with challenge. At that moment, he looked like a gorgeous devil who’d take my soul to hell—and enjoy every minute of it. “You scared?”

My skin prickled with irritation. It would take more than a pretty boy on a big-ass motorcycle to scare me. I’d prove him wrong. I huffed and climbed on the bike, grabbing the sides of my seat.

“Where’s your helmet?” I demanded.

“Only have one,” he replied. He was so close—close enough for me to catch his masculine scent. “Nobody rides this bike but me. You’re the first passenger.”

He turned the engine on, revving it a few times. The bike vibrated angrily.

“Forgot to tell you the last rule,” he said conversationally, looking over his shoulder. I could hear the mischief in his tone.

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

He grinned. “Hold on to me. Really, really tight.”

“No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

I cried out as the bike zoomed forward, and my arms automatically went around him. I could feel his shoulders and hard stomach shaking with laughter.

He so did that on purpose! Fine, he won this round.

I vowed the next one would be mine, as we exited the garage with a roar.

I didn’t like the bike. It was noisy and dangerous. But as we streaked down the road, and the wind whipped cool and damp on my skin, I felt…

Freedom.

Chasing Red Duology:

Chasing Red (Book 1)

Always Red (Book 2)

 

http://books.sourcebooks.com/chasingred/

 

 

 

Millions of Wattpad readers love Caleb and Red’s epic story:

“I love this book to the core.”

“I was so addicted… So in love that I couldn’t stop reading.”

“The characters are just so real and possess such pure, raw emotions and passion.”

“This book took me through an emotional roller coaster! I love everything about it!”

http://books.sourcebooks.com/chasingred/

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New Release and Giveaway! NEVER DARE A DRAGON by Ashlyn Chase (Boston Dragons #3)

Third in Ashlyn Chase’s light paranormal romance series featuring hot dragon shifters. No one would believe that lovely Lt. Kristine Scott of the NY Fire Department is aactual dragon, but there’s no denying the flames that ignite when she meets firefighting phoenix shifter Jayce Fierro.

One Boston Phoenix + One New York Dragon = Scorching Heat

You think it’s tough being a dragon? It’s a piece of cake compared to being a phoenix shifter. Dragon shifters just have to worry about accidentally setting their stuff (or a loved one) on fire. A phoenix can rise from the ashes, but then they have to start over…as if growing up once wasn’t tough enough..

Meet Lt. Jayce Fierro of the Boston Fire Department, and Kristine Scott of the FDNY. A long distance relationship could never work—especially not with the secrets they’re keeping. But when Kristine lands herself in a blaze of trouble, she’s in no position to turn down Jayce’s help. Even if it means letting down their guards…and giving in to their sizzling attraction.

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Excerpt:

The rest of the dinner went well. In fact, Kristine was surprised by how well it was going. She hadn’t dated a guy like Jayce in a long time. Their connection seemed to be almost instantaneous. It was just too bad he was a firefighter—and lived three hours away as the Acela train flies. Actually, a quick plane ride would reduce the commute to only an hour and a half, but the hassle and time it took to go through security would make the trip even longer.

Walking down the wide sidewalks of Times Square, hand in hand, sure made her feel as if the trip might be worth the hassle. His hand was warm and rough. For once she wasn’t concerned that hers were the same way. No hand cream could stand up to a firefighters’ routine. Wet gloves, rough weather, unbearable heat… All of that detracted from the soft, supple skin she longed for.

They had decided over dinner to visit the top of the Empire State Building. Jayce had never been there before, and Kristine had only visited with friends—never a date. It was supposed to be romantic. She’d never understood why. Probably because her cynical ex-boyfriend thought it was hokey. As she glanced over at Jayce, he glanced back, and they smiled. One thing she wasn’t seeing in him was a city dweller’s pessimism. Its absence was a refreshing change.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination, and as luck—or the stars aligning at the right moment—would have it, they stepped into an elevator with no one right behind them. The doors whooshed closed while they were still alone.

She spun toward Jayce with a hand over her mouth. “I guess that wasn’t very nice of me. I probably should have waited.”

He stepped right into her space. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

As the elevator began to ascend, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his firm lips. She looped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close. She immediately opened her mouth, and their tongues found each other and swirled together. Kristine wasn’t at all sure her light-headed feeling was due to the elevator traveling so fast. Unfortunately, she felt as if she were falling instead.

Don’t think about it. Whatever happens happens… She seemed to have found a new mantra. She heard the ding of the elevator doors opening, and they were greeted by chuckles and a wolf whistle.

“Yeah, yeah…” Jayce said, but he was grinning and holding Kristine’s hand as they made their way off the elevator.

When they spotted a space at the building’s edge that was fairly deserted, they walked over to it with no hesitation.

“You’re not afraid of heights, I guess…” Jayce said to her.

She laughed. “I’d be in deep trouble if I were.” Not only was she a firefighter in a company that specialized in high-rises, but she was a full-fledged, fire-breathing, wing-soaring dragon. She could hover at this height and enjoy the view.

Speaking of enjoying the view…

Jayce turned his back on the dazzling city lights and kissed her knuckles as he stared into her eyes. She felt as if her insides were melting. A deep shimmer in his eyes must have been reflecting the lights. Or not. His eyes seemed to glow for a moment, and then he quickly turned back toward the city.

She took her first good look at the city lights as well. Dear Lord. At last she realized why people thought this place was romantic. At night, so many lights against the velvet black sky were more beautiful than Christmas. Some even seemed to twinkle like stars. Below, white headlights and red taillights trailed through the landscape, but the sounds of the city were far away.

A chilly breeze ruffled her hair. Jayce enveloped her in a side hug. If she felt a chill, it was forgotten in favor of his warm, strong body alongside hers. Everywhere they touched, merging heat radiated through her. Wow. How she’d missed this! Or had she ever had this feeling?

Good Lord, Kristine… Get ahold of yourself!

“So, Jayce… What do you think of the view from up here?”

He turned her toward him and said, “I think the view right in front of me is as beautiful as it gets.” Leaning in, he delivered another toe-curling kiss, and she realized she was a goner.

 

Boston Dragons:
I Dream of Dragons (Book 1)
My Wild Irish Dragon (Book 2)
Never Dare a Dragon (Book 3)

 

About the author:

Ashlyn Chase has been a registered nurse for 20 years. During those years, she wrote articles for professional journals and a thesis, but eventually, thank goodness, discovered the joy and freedom of writing fiction.

Ashlyn considers herself lucky. Her degree in behavioral sciences is a combination of psychology and sociology, so she has worked with and studied people most of her life. She never has to write out exhaustive character sketches to understand her characters or predict how they will behave. That doesn’t mean they don’t surprise her. Sometimes they take her on grand unexpected journeys. For her, it gives “character driven novels” a whole new meaning.

Ashlyn has learned to go with the flow. To enjoy the journey is not only one of her writing goals, but also a challenge in life so she tries to follow where the story takes her. As such, she has lived in 17 different places over the years. At last, she’s all settled down and comfy in New England.

Is there a grand design or do we decide our own fates? Perhaps if the powers-that-be have a plot, then they also give us the right to revise it. Ashlyn has certainly made detours on her path, but she thinks she’s better for it. She’s having fun at any rate and hopes that if she enjoys the journey, so will those around her—including her readers.

 

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New Release and Giveaway! HOME TO STAY by Kate James (San Diego K-9 Unit #4)


On Tour with Prism Book Tours.

Home to Stay
by Kate James
Contemporary Romance
Paperback & ebook, 312 pages
July 1st 2017 by Harlequin Heartwarming

She’s bringing his son home

A missing little boy triggers San Diego K-9 officer Shannon Clemens and her canine search-and-rescue partner into instant action. For the rookie cop haunted by a childhood tragedy, bringing Sawyer Evans’s son safely home is more than a job. It’s a mission she can’t fail… But forging a friendship with the father is a tactical error that could compromise her first solo assignment. Yet the deepening bond between them is almost impossible to resist…

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Excerpt:

There were no answers. None that made sense.

When Sawyer finished his beer, he went inside for another. This time he brought Rufus out with him. Rufus must’ve been well aware of his mood, since he was reluctant to go with him at first. A large Milk-Bone provided the needed incentive, but the dog still kept a reasonable distance between himself and Sawyer, curling up in the far corner of the deck to feast on his treat.

And now he was scaring their dog.

Sawyer rose and sat down next to Rufus. “It’s okay, big guy. My mood’s got nothing to do with you.” He leaned back against the wall, handed the dog another treat and scratched behind his ear.

With his free hand, Sawyer reached for the bottle again. He wasn’t someone who overindulged. The only times he’d been drunk in his life were at a frat party in university and the day after Jeannette had disappeared.

Tonight? Well, tonight might be the third time. How much worse could things get? Sawyer pushed off the deck and stalked to the edge of the patio, then back to the table. He lifted the silver frame he’d placed there earlier.

Jeannette was beautiful. She always had been. He’d remembered thinking she was the prettiest girl in school. But it was her heart, her compassion and decency that had truly captured him.

In the picture, she was wearing a sleek, white gown, with a lace overlay and a long flowing veil. She was gazing up at him and laughing. He remembered that heady summer day six years ago as if it was yesterday.

But looking at her picture now…he no longer felt that all-consuming love.

What if she was alive?

As he tried to picture marriage with Jeannette—past or future—he couldn’t seem to.

Shannon kept intruding on his thoughts.

And remorse seared through him.

When the doorbell rang, Rufus gave out a machine-gunfire series of barks, and the frame slipped out of Sawyer’s hand, smashing on the deck. “Great. Just great,” he mumbled.

Rufus barked again, and the instant Sawyer slid the patio door open, he raced to the front hall. Sawyer followed him. Opening the door and seeing Meghan standing there, he looked around anxiously.

“Hey, Rufus! How’s he doing?” his sister asked Sawyer, bending over to lavish the dog with attention.

“Can we talk about the dog later? Where’s Dylan?” Sawyer asked, panic threatening to paralyze him.

“He’s fine. I left him in my car for a moment,” she said, quick to reassure him. “Nice to see you, too,” she added and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“What are you doing here?” Sawyer demanded.

“Shannon called me.”

“What? Why?”

“She thought you shouldn’t be alone right now. But she didn’t say why. Let me bring Dylan in. We’ll get him settled in his room and then you can explain.”

Sawyer went to get Dylan from Meg’s car. Together, they got him ready for bed and left him in his room watching a show on Sawyer’s iPad, Rufus by his side. Sawyer closed his son’s bedroom door and trailed his sister down the hall. She knew her way around his kitchen and wasted no time pouring herself a glass of wine. She held the bottle toward him.

“No, thanks. I’ve got a beer going outside.” He followed Meg again as she headed to the patio.

“So, what’s got Shannon worried enough to look up my number and call me?” she asked, as she stood at the edge of the deck and leaned against the railing.

“Nothing.” Everything. But he didn’t think he had it in him to talk about it right then.

“Yeah?” she asked with a meaningful glance at the picture frame and shattered glass on the wooden planks.

Sawyer bent down, picked up the frame and shook off the shards of glass. He stared at the picture again. There was a long scratch down the center. How poetic that a piece of broken glass had scored the picture—directly between him and Jeannette. With a short, bitter laugh, he put it down on the table, slumped in a chair and finished off his beer.

Meg took a sip of her wine and set the glass on the table. She went back in and reemerged with a broom and dustpan. Without a word, she swept up the glass and emptied the dustpan into a garbage can in the corner of the deck.

She sat in a chair next to Sawyer and took another sip. “Now, do you want to try to convince me again that there’s nothing wrong?”

 

Other Books in the Series:

About the Author:

Kate spent much of her childhood abroad before attending university in Canada. She built a successful business career, but her passion has always been literature. As a result, Kate turned her energy to her love of the written word.

Kate’s goal is to entertain her readers with engaging stories featuring strong, likable characters. Kate has been honored with numerous awards for her writing. She and her husband, Ken, enjoy traveling and the outdoors, with their beloved Labrador Retrievers, Harley and Logan.

Kate would love to hear from you! You can connect with her by email, through her website, her Facebook pageTwitter, or mail at PO Box 446, Schomberg, ON, L0G 1T0, Canada.

Tour Giveaway

Prize Pack:
· A gorgeous aqua cross-body bag;
· “Dreamer Extraordinaire” charm bookmark;
· signed copy of When Love Matters Most, the second book in the San Diego K-9 Unit series);
· signed copy of When I Found You, the third book in the San Diego K-9 Unit series;
· an assortment of bookmarks and bookplates; and
· a $20 Amazon gift card.
· (US/CAN – if winner lives elsewhere, will receive ebooks & gift card instead)

Signed Books:
· Six winners who comment on any of the blog posts, will receive a signed book (US/CAN) of their choice from the first three books in the San Diego K-9 Unit series, When the Right One Comes Along, When Love Matters Most, or When I Found You.

Ends July 18th

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Tour Schedule:

July 8th: Launch
July 9th:
Heidi Reads…
Becky on Books
Thoughts of a Blonde
deal sharing aunt
With Love for Books
July 10th:
Katie’s Clean Book Collection
Hearts & Scribbles
Slice of Life
It’s All About the Romance
Mel’s Shelves
July 11th:
Rockin’ Book Reviews
underneath the covers
Getting Your Read On
Nicole’s Book Musings
Cafinated Reads
Christian Suspense Author Mary Alford
July 12th:
A Baker’s Perspective
Paulette’s Papers
Christy’s Cozy Corners
The Bookworm Chronicles
Remembrancy
Janice’s Book Reviews
July 13th:
Singing Librarian Books
I Am A Reader
Reading Is My SuperPower
Inside the Mind of an Avid Reader
Book Lover in Florida
Wishful Endings
July 14: Grand Finale

 

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New Release and Giveaway! THE WICKED HEIR by Elizabeth Michels (Spare Heirs #3)

Title: The Wicked Heir
Author: Elizabeth Michels
Series: Spare Heirs, #3
ISBN: 9781492621393
Pub Date: July 4, 2017
Genre: Historical Romance

 

The Spare Heirs Society Cordially Invites You to Meet Fallon St. James: The Mastermind

When the love of Lady Isabelle Fairlyn’s life is betrothed to her twin sister, Isabelle vows to find a suitable replacement before the end of the season. He must be a talented dancer, have a keen fashion sense, and be perfectly dashing in every way.

Fallon St. James is the farthest thing from perfectly anything. As head of the secretive Spare Heirs Society, he must stick to the shadows…even as Isabelle’s friendship pulls him reluctantly into the light.  But when Isabelle gets involved with the one man who could destroy Spares, Fallon must decide between protecting his life’s work—or risking everything to save the woman whose warm smile leaves him breathless.

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Excerpt:

 “Am I dead?” Isabelle’s voice croaked as if she’d never used it before.

“No. Thankfully not,” came a male voice from the far side of the room.

She gasped and pulled herself up a bit against the pillows. Why was there a man with her in a strange bedchamber? Had he hit her on the head and brought her here? Isabelle’s mind reeled with questions, each punctuated by the pain in her skull.

Coals from a near-dead fire sprang to life in the grate across the room, lighting a tall silhouette. The man dusted his hands off and turned toward her. “You did have me worried there for a bit though.”

Blinking into the haziness that was the other side of the room, she forced her eyes to adjust to the light. There was something familiar about his deep voice, the confidence in his movements, but she couldn’t make sense of any of this. “Whose bedchamber am I in?”

“Mine.” St. James came into focus as he moved to her side, but his answer was no answer at all.

This room couldn’t belong to St. James, and she couldn’t be lying within it. None of this was real. It was all a dream caused by the bump on her head. She must have hit it quite hard to envision herself in such a place, with St. James of all people. It was rather amusing, really, aside from her throbbing head. That part wasn’t amusing at all. But the setting she’d placed St. James in did bring a smile to her face.

A large bedchamber filled with plush furnishings and covered in busy floral patterns—ha! And in her mind she’d made her most stern—and only male—friend claim he lived there. Dreams were entertaining at times. St. James’s chosen place to sleep would be on a cot beside a desk. Or perhaps he never reclined at all; he only caught a quick nap in a chair between meetings. She giggled, which only drew him closer. A look of concern made him look more serious than ever as he stood surrounded in flowers.

She scowled back at him and laughed. “St. James, I’m in your bed—your overly feminine bed,” she whispered up to him. “Are we married in this dream? Don’t you want to kiss me, have your way with me here on our wedding night?”

“Devil take it, you’re delusional. I’ll have the doctor return,” he muttered. He leaned against the bed, next to her, and lifted a hand to check something on her forehead.

“Oh, a doctor! Yes, I’ll need one of those. I am injured. Horribly injured! Save me, St. James. The only way I’ll live is if you kiss me.” She reached up and grabbed the fabric of his waistcoat, pulling him closer. He braced a hand on the bed on the other side of her body, smoothed her hair back from her face, and watched her. The fabric of his waistcoat was textured by the pattern of gray threads stitched into it and was rough under her fingers, drawing her attention from the intense look in his eyes. How odd to have such detail in a dream.

“Your clothing feels so real.”

He’d removed his coat and cravat. His waistcoat hung open, and his clothes were rumpled, as if he’d slept in them. She’d never seen him in such a state of undress. She moved her hand to his shirt and splayed her hand across his chest. The heat of his skin warmed her fingers as his heart beat beneath her palm. Dream St. James had a broad chest and muscles that twitched at her touch. She lifted her hand to his shoulder, her other hand skimming up his side. His breath hitched in his chest. It was odd that she’d never noticed the real man’s fit form, never before caught the look in his eyes that was one part caring concern, one part intense desire.

He moved his hand over her hair, the pad of his thumb caressing her cheek. St. James was her friend, only a friend. She wouldn’t be able to face him for a week once she woke from this scene, him sitting so close, her touching him. “This dream…”

“Isn’t a dream,” he said, not breaking the contact he had with her.  Instead he searched her eyes and continued to touch her cheek, her temple, in soothing, gentle caresses, as if she might break.

It took a moment for his words to sink into her aching skull. “It isn’t…” She froze in her exploration of his body, her gaze dropping to her hands that had been roaming over his chest for well over a minute. “What?”

“You aren’t dreaming. I found you on the floor of the museum earlier today.”

“And you brought me here? Why? Wait… Earlier today?”  She had to leave. She had to find her family. She tried to push St. James away to sit up, but he didn’t budge.

“You were unconscious. I know you’re confused, but you’re safe now…in my home, my bed.”

“Your… No, truly. Where am I?” She ripped her gaze from his to scan the room beyond him, looking for anything that made sense of the past few minutes. This room could not be Mr. St. James’s private quarters. It didn’t fit what she knew of the man. And why was she in his private anything? She couldn’t be. Her reputation. Victoria’s wedding. She needed to gather her things and leave this place, wherever it was.

“You’re in my bedchamber—truly.”

“What?” She stared up at him, taking in the sympathy and, unfortunately for her, honesty in his expression.

“You need to rest,” he said in a tone that would command armies but not Isabelle on her sister’s wedding day.

“I need to leave,” she stated as she pushed against his unyielding chest in an effort to sit up…

“No.”

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Elizabeth Michels is the award-winning author of the Tricks of the Ton series and the new Spare Heirs series. She attended Park University where she graduated Magna Cum Laude with a BA in Interior Design.  This Historical Romance author enjoys living in a lake-side town in North Carolina with her husband and son. Elizabeth is a lover of happily-ever-afters, laughter, and things that are sparkly. Tiara optional while reading, but highly recommended.

 

Find her online!
Website: http://www.elizabethmichels.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/e.michels.novels
Twitter: @SouthernTart
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6986143.Elizabeth_Michels

GIVEAWAY!

Enter to win a copy of The Infamous Heir, the charming first book in Elizabeth Michels’ Spare Heirs series!

New Release Spotlight! CITY BOY–HOT OFF THE ICE #1 by A.E. Wasp


City Boy – Hot Off The Ice 1

By A.E. Wasp


BLURB

Follow the money or follow your heart?

All Bryce Lowery knows how to do is play hockey. He’s been playing professionally since he was fifteen. Twenty years later, he’s rich, famous, tired, and alone. And possibly gay according to his ex-wife.

When a blown tire leads directly to mind-blowing sex with a motorcycle-riding white knight named Dakota, Bryce discovers he is most definitely gay. When his white knight turns out to be the manager of the apple orchard he inherited from some distant relative, he discovers that everything he thought he knew about himself was wrong.

Now Bryce has a tough choice to make, follow the money to a new multimillion dollar contract, or follow his heart into the unknown?

All Dakota Ryan knows how to do is grow apples. Now at twenty-four, he faces losing both his home and his livelihood in one cruel twist of fate.

Then Bryce Lowery crashes into his life like the answer to all Dakota’s prayers. Not only does the gorgeous, older professional athlete have the money to save the orchard, but he’s whispering promises to make all of Dakota’s wildest dreams come true. But Dakota knows better than to give his heart to someone who could leave, and if life has taught him anything, it’s that everyone leaves.

Dakota has a choice, sit back and wait for Bryce to decide his fate, or for the first time in his life, chose what he wants his future to be?

City Boy is a first time gay, fish out of water, May/December love story with a HEA.

Buy on Amazon!
Snippet #1

Dakota sighed, head dropping down onto Bryce’s chest. “So, how was it for you?” He tilted his head up so he could see Bryce’s face. From this angle, his beard looked fluffy, and Dakota had the urge to scratch him under his chin like a big cat.

He could see Bryce searching for the right words, so he didn’t push. The silence stretched comfortably. Seemed like neither of them was in a hurry to leave this unexpected sanctuary and get back to the real world.

“Well, it’s funny,” Bryce said, running his fingers through Dakota’s hair and cupping the back of Dakota’s head in the palm of his hand. “I’ve never liked this after part before with women. I did it because it’s the right thing to do, but I would always make an excuse to get up as soon as possible. But I really want to keep touching you.”

“And that’s good?” Dakota asked.

Bryce smiled down at him, laugh lines crinkling at the edge of his dark brown eyes. “I always wanted it to feel like this.”

Dakota’s heart thudded in his chest. The way Bryce had Dakota tucked up against him felt really good. Scarily good. A part of Dakota’s mind beat its terrified wings against his skull, telling him to get up and leave now. How did this happen? Dakota had a hard time letting his friends get close to him. He certainly didn’t cuddle with strangers.

Dakota had worried that Bryce would somehow imprint on him. Now Dakota wasn’t sure he wanted to let the man go. Not only was Bryce smoking hot, but he was also sweet, considerate, and kind. And, Dakota suspected, had the potential to be fantastic in bed.



SNIPPET #2

What did Dakota see in Bryce’s eyes? His brows lowered as he seemed to be searching for something. Bryce tried to open up and let his emotions show in his eyes, hoping that one of the was what Dakota needed.

Who had he become in these too-short weeks?

This moment seemed separate from any that come before in Bryce’s life. His universe had narrowed to a rundown VW bus at the backend of an orchard in the shadow of the Rocky Mountain where he sat poised on the edge of understanding something he had no name for.

The energy between them built, the lights and the heady smell of the incense swirling around the air. A slight buzz from the brownie made every movement syrupy-slow and fanned Bryce’s desire.

Somewhere inside Bryce, a damn broke. Everything he had ever wanted to feel, everything he had held back or assumed he lacked, crashed over him, and, with a small ooh he closed his eyes, breaking the connection.

Dakota surged forward, pulling Bryce’s shirt off as he lowered him gently to the mattress. Somehow despite being unwilling to stop kissing each other, they managed to get undressed.



SNIPPET #3

“I’ve never seen the ocean.” Dakota said his voice flat. “I’ve never been anywhere.”

Bryce scratched his fingers through Dakota curls, pulling them and letting them bounce back. “I’ve been to so many amazing places.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dakota yanked his head away with frown.

Bryce didn’t let him go, pulling him back against his side. “No, let me finish. All these places were amazing, but I was always kind of sad. I’ve never been with somebody I—someone who is special to me.”

“What about with Nikki?”

“Except for our honeymoon, I never went anyplace romantic alone with Nikki,” he confessed. “Even the honeymoon was awkward.”

Dakota turned on his side and slid his leg over Bryce’s leg. “How? Were you a virgin?” Dakota asked lightly.

Bryce brushed off the joking tone in his voice and answered seriously. “No. Worse. All the things that were supposed to be romantic? I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t feel lost in her eyes in the candlelight or anything. I didn’t want to spend hours in bed.”

He ran his hand up and down Dakota’s arm, enjoying the soft tickle of his hair and the firmness of the muscle. “I convinced myself that nobody felt that way; that everyone was faking it because that’s how we were told it’s supposed to feel when you’re in love.”

“And now?” Dakota tensed in his arms.

Bryce pushed up and rolled until he hovered over Dakota, looking him right in his eyes. Dakota was going to listen to him whether he wanted to or not.

“Now, I want to take you down to Mexico, get a cabana on a private beach, one with a giant bed and an outdoor shower. The I’d drag you inside and not come out for two weeks. I want people to bring us coconuts and fresh fish and tequila and leave it at our door.”

Dakota stared back at him, hands on Bryce’s hips. His fingers adding more bruises to the marks he’d already left on Bryce’s skin. “You could do that, couldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat.” And he wanted to, so badly. Badly enough to give up hockey? If he only had himself to worry about? In a heartbeat.

Author Bio:

After time spent raising children, earning several college degrees, and traveling the world with the U.S. State Department, she is returning to her first love – writing.
A dreamer and an idealist, Amy writes about people finding connection in a world that can seem lonely and magic in a world that can seem all too mundane. She invites readers into her characters’ lives and worlds when they are their most vulnerable, their most human, living with the same hopes and fears we all have. An avid traveler who has lived in big cities and small towns in four different continents, Amy has found that time and distance are no barriers to love. She invites her readers to reach out and share how her characters have touched their lives or how the found families they have gathered around them have shaped their worlds.
Born on Long Island, NY, Amy has lived in Los Angeles, London, and Bangkok. She currently lives in Colorado in a town suspiciously like the ones in her books.

Social Media:
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New Release and Giveaway! EASY NIGHTS by Kristen Proby (Boudreaux series #6)

From New York Times Bestselling author Kristen Proby, comes a steamy and passionate friends-to-lovers romance—EASY NIGHTS! The sixth standalone title in the Boudreaux Series, Savannah and Ben’s highly anticipated story is now available on all retailers! Grab your copy today!

 

About EASY NIGHTS (Boudreaux Series #6):

The Boudreaux Series—Sexy. Intriguing. Easy.

No one said change was easy…

Savannah Boudreaux knows what it is to hurt. To bleed. To be afraid that the man she’s promised to be true to until “death do us part” might in fact separate them far sooner than anyone had ever anticipated. But Van also knows what it is to survive. To move on. To live life to the fullest. With five brothers and sisters and a loving mother as her constant source of strength during the pain and the healing, Van realizes there is little else she needs.

But some things never change…

Benjamin Preston sat on the sidelines of the Boudreaux family for years, in love with a woman he couldn’t have. As the best friend of the Boudreaux brothers since childhood, Ben has seen both tragedies and joys in the family. And as a former MMA fighter and KravMaga expert, Ben’s used to fighting for what he wants—and winning. His hands were tied when Savannah married her high school sweetheart not long after graduation, but now two years have passed since Ben found Savannah broken in her own home.

Sometimes what you need most has been right in front of you the whole time…

Van’s convinced that happiness isn’t in the cards for her, no matter how right it feels to be in Ben’s strong arms—and his bed. Ben is determined to win her heart and fight for her trust. He’s promised to protect her, to be her friend. But more than anything, he wants to finally make her his, and this is one fight he’s not willing to lose.

Pick up your copy of EASY NIGHTS today!

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Add to your Goodreads

 

 

Excerpt:

We turn a corner and there it is, my favorite tree. It’s at least four hundred years old, with branches so big and heavy that they rest on the ground.

And under it is a portable swing with a red blanket spread in front of it.

“Oh, my.”

He smiles down at me and leads me to the swing. I sit and kick my flip flops off, and Ben sets the basket in the middle of the blanket and joins me on the swing.

“This is lovely.”

“It’s a good day for it,” he says and rests his arm on the back of the swing, behind my shoulders. His fingertips brush the bare skin on my shoulder. I scoot closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder.

“We spent countless summers out here,” he says quietly, as if speaking too loud will disrupt the perfect spring day.

“We did.”

“And as a teenager, I would see you sitting out here, under this tree, with a book. Your knees pulled up to your chest, and your bare feet dirty as can be. You took my breath away even then.”

I glance up at him in surprise.

“I can’t tell you how often I’d watch you—not in a creepy way, I might add—I’d watch you reading and enjoying this tree, and I wanted so badly to sit with you and kiss you senseless.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he says with a gentle smile. “But now you do.”

He nudges my chin up with his fingers and lowers his lips to mine, covering them softly. I cup his face in my hand and let myself simply soak in the moment, in my favorite place, with this man.

He slowly takes the kiss from sweet to hot, and to my delight, drags his hand from my hip to my breast, his thumb dancing over my already tight nipple.

Good God, he’s like a drug that I’ll never get tired of.

After what seems like an hour, he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.

“I have been waiting for that for a very long time,” he whispers.

“I think this was probably way better than anything you might have done as a teenager.”

He chuckles. “Ture. So, it’s a win-win.”

I let my fingertips glide down his cheeks to his neck.

“Savannah.”

“Yes?”

“I want you,” he says and closes his eyes tightly. “I don’t say that to rush you into anything, and this isn’t the time or place anyway, but I need you to know that I want you.”

I cover his lips with mine, watching his eyes. “I want you too, Ben.”

He inhales and kisses me again, moving straight into hot as fuck.

Finally, he pulls back, clears his throat, and smiles at me.

“Are you hungry?”

I laugh and push my hair off my face. “So hungry.”

“I think Gabby made fried chicken.”

“That sounds good too.”

 

 

And don’t miss the first standalone titles in the Boudreaux Series!
EASY LOVE-FREE for a limited time only
EASY CHARM-$.99 for a limited time only
EASY MELODY-$1.99 for a limited time only
EASY KISSES
EASY FOR KEEPS: A Boudreaux Novella
EASY MAGIC

 

 

About Kristen Proby:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kristen Proby is the author of the bestselling With Me In Seattle and Love Under the Big Sky series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong, humorous characters with a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type; fiercely protective and a bit bossy, and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves.

Kristen lives in Montana, where she enjoys coffee, chocolate and sunshine. And naps.

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New Release and Giveaway! THE IMPOSSIBLE VASTNESS OF US by Samantha Young

From New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young comes a story of friendship, identity, and acceptance that will break your heart—and make it whole again. Order your copy of THE IMPOSSIBLE VASTNESS OF US today!

 

About THE IMPOSSIBLE VASTNESS OF US:

“I know how to watch my back. I’m the only one that ever has.”

India Maxwell hasn’t just moved across the country—she’s plummeted to the bottom rung of the social ladder. It’s taken years to cover the mess of her home life with a veneer of popularity. Now she’s living in one of Boston’s wealthiest neighborhoods with her mom’s fiancé and his daughter, Eloise. Thanks to her soon-to-be stepsister’s clique of friends, including Eloise’s gorgeous, arrogant boyfriend Finn, India feels like the one thing she hoped never to be seen as again: trash.

But India’s not alone in struggling to control the secrets of her past. Eloise and Finn, the school’s golden couple, aren’t all they seem to be. In fact, everyone’s life is infinitely more complex than it first appears. And as India grows closer to Finn and befriends Eloise, threatening the facades that hold them together, what’s left are truths that are brutal, beautiful, and big enough to change them forever…

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Excerpt:

“You’re a great photographer, Finn.”

He leaned against the counter by the sink, seeming surprised by the compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence stretched as we could do nothing but stare at each other, and my skin started to feel tight and hot, as if I was seconds from bursting out of it.

“Uh.” I stepped back, suddenly needing more space between us. “So we should probably arrange a time to meet up for the presentation. That’s if you’re not planning to stand me up.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You said to meet you after school today even though you work at the Chronicle.”

“I don’t always come to the meetings. I only decided to come work here because you said we couldn’t meet,” he explained, and if I wasn’t mistaken he sounded a little annoyed.

“Oh.” I refused to feel guilty for thinking badly of him. Refused. “Okay. Well, we need to meet up some time soon.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, looking at his feet now.

“I’d suggest Theo’s but it might be distracting for you with Eloise there.”

Finn looked up at me. “Theo’s?”

Confused by the question I raised an eyebrow.

“You said ‘Theo’s.’ You didn’t say ‘my place.’”

“Because it isn’t.” It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest.

Sensing I wasn’t going to elaborate on my feelings about the house I was living in and the people I was living with, Finn eventually nodded. “Okay. My place, then. Tomorrow.”

Glad we’d finally organized a time but not so glad it meant spending more alone time with Finn, I just nodded and stepped back toward the door. “Okay. I’ll meet you out front after school.”

“Do you need a ride home tonight?”

I looked back at him, surprised by the offer, but not surprised to find him staring at his feet rather than at me. “Eloise’s director has upped her rehearsals so she’s still here, too. Gil’s picking us both up in an hour.” I would’ve thought he’d be fully aware of Eloise’s schedule.

“Right.” He straightened and turned his back on me.

There was something about it that was vulnerable. Something about him that was vulnerable. I was probably insane to even think that about him—this beautiful, rich boy—but he was getting to me.

Nobody got to me.

Crap.

“But thanks,” I found myself saying quietly.

He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re welcome,” he replied just as quietly.

Crap, crap.

My fingers slipped around the door handle as I tried to get out of there at superspeed.

 

About Samantha Young:

Samantha Young is the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of adult contemporary romances, including the On Dublin Street series and Hero, as well as the New Adult duology Into the Deep and Out of the Shallows. Every Little Thing, the second book in her new Hart’s Boardwalk series, will be published by Berkley in March 2017. Before turning to contemporary fiction, she wrote several young adult paranormal and fantasy series, including the amazon bestselling Tale of Lunarmorte trilogy. Samantha’s debut YA contemporary novel The Impossible Vastness of Us will be published by Harlequin TEEN in ebook& hardback June 2017

Samantha has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award 2012 for Best Author and Best Romance for On Dublin Street, Best Romance 2014 for Before Jamaica Lane, and Best Romance 2015 for Hero. On Dublin Street, a #1 bestseller in Germany, was the Bronze Award Winner in the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2013, Before Jamaica Lane the Gold Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2014 and Echoes of Scotland Street the Bronze Medal Winner for the LeserPreis German Readers Choice Awards for Best Romance 2015.

Samantha is currently published in 30 countries and is a #1 international bestselling author.

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