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COVER REVEAL: “Underneath the Sycamore Tree” by B. Celeste

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Title: Underneath the Sycamore Tree
Author: B. Celeste
Genre: Contemporary Stepbrother Romance
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Release Date: November 1, 2019



Blurb

It happened in stages.
My father left.
My twin sister died of an incurable autoimmune disease.
My mother started breaking down.
Then I was diagnosed with the very thing that took my other half from me.
That was when I realized Mama’s eyes turned gold when she cried.
So I moved in with my father and his new family—new wife, new son, new stepbrother.
Kaiden Monroe made me feel normal.
Hated. Cared for. Loathed. And … loved.
Somewhere along the way, I’d found solace in the boy with dark eyes.
But everything happens in stages.
And nothing good ever lasts.







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Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Mama’s eyes are golden when she cries. Not like mine, which are a murky shade of dirty pool water—not fully green or brown, but a mixture of the two. Though when I was just shy of ten years old and saying goodbye to my sister, Mama told me that my glassy gaze was speckled with emeralds just like Daddy’s.
But Daddy wasn’t at Lo’s funeral. Not when the pastor spoke the eulogy to the half-empty church, or when the slow toll of cars paced the streets to the cemetery, or even when they lowered the kid-sized white coffin into the ground. Mama and I watched every step of the way. Her eyes trained on the half of her heart sinking into the dark soil, never to be seen again, while mine stared off into the distance waiting for Daddy’s familiar face to appear.
Looking back now, Lo had suspected the end of our parent’s marriage long before Daddy packed his things and left. She always knew it’d end that way.
I wondered what else she knew.
Mama wipes a stray tear from her eye, hoping I won’t notice how they glisten in the fluorescent lighting of the drab white room. I want to tell her I’m all right, that everything will be fine. But the weak attempts of comfort would roll off her tense shoulders in disbelief.
When Lo was diagnosed with lupus it was too late to save her. The disease had eaten away at every piece of her—body, skin, and organs. Nobody knew what would happen if it’d gone untreated for too long. No matter how hard Mama tried controlling the disease, it couldn’t be fought.
Logan died in her sleep.






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Author Bio

B. Celeste’s obsession with all things forbidden and taboo enabled her to pave a path into a new world of raw, real, emotional romance.

Her debut novel is The Truth about Heartbreak.


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EXCERPT: “Book’em Piper” by Danielle Norman

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Title: Book’em Piper
Series: Iron Badges #3, Iron Orchids #10
Author: Danielle Norman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 8, 2019



Blurb

I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, an area that even the cops avoided.
The only light in my dark, was the boy next door. He was my hero.
And I was his Sunshine, at least that is what he called me.

Liam Kane wasn’t just my neighbor, he was my first and only crush. 
He looked after me when I couldn’t look after myself. 
When he disappeared my life returned to an endless grey. 

Now after all these years we’re face to face. 
But we’re standing on opposite sides of the law.    
He’s a part of the Heretics MC and I’m a deputy. 

I’m all grown up and more than capable of handling myself.
But I dream about Liam’s capable hands.
Everything has changed… except my feelings for him.







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Excerpt

Chapter One
“Keep talking there, Twinkletoes, I’ll marry your dad and make you my stepchild.” I glared at three teenage girls who were destined to grow-up and be a drain on some man’s wallet as they walked past me on their way to the yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
“God, how manly.”
“I bet she’s single.”
“Hasn’t she ever heard of makeup?”
But seriously, what was up with teenagers these days? I was a fucking deputy in a fucking uniform and they still had the audacity to give me attitude. 
“If I ever say, that I want to be a cop, shoot me, will you?” One of the girls asked her friends.
“They won’t have to, I’ll do it for them,” I said in a low whisper. The entire time they were cataloging my flaws and their disdain for my job, I was straddling my sheriff’s motorcycle, while parked in a convenience store’s parking lot. The owner had been having problems with teenagers coming in after school harassing his patrons. Case and point.
A loud wolf whistle pierced the air, and I turned to find a boy hanging out of a truck. I rolled my eyes as the girls started to giggle. 
“Oh my god, Devin just whistled at you,” one of the girls said.
“I can’t believe it, does that mean he thinks I’m pretty?”
“Oh, Breezy, of course it does. You’re so pretty,” her friends reassured her.
“You really think so? I need to lose weight . . .” 
I smiled as I watched her twirl one loose strand around a finger. The only thing missing was her blowing a giant wad of bubble gum. It was all a little too cliché for me.
The boys in the truck pulled out and the girls got into their car and chased them. In their pursuit they plowed through an intersection ignoring a stop sign and cutting off several cars. 
I rolled my eyes. Fuck.
Nothing beat the feeling of twisting the throttle, the sun beating down on my back, or the vibration between my legs. Holy shit, I couldn’t believe that I just thought that, but it was true. There was just something about being on a Harley, and I was one of the lucky few who got to ride to my heart’s content since I not only rode for fun but also rode for work.
Okay, one thing beat all of that—the adrenaline rush I got every time I flipped on my lights, which I did a second before I went after the pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Some days, karma was a bitch and others she was your best friend, kind of like today. Yeah, Karma and I, we go way back.
“Well, hello, ladies, it seems that you were in a hurry.” I slightly lowered my sunglasses and smirked at three stunned teenagers. “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”
“I can’t get a ticket; I’ll be grounded from my car.”
“You probably should have thought about that before you blew threw the stop sign and cut off those other vehicles.”
“But we came out of the parking lot and turned right. The stop sign is, like, right there, she already stopped and checked when she came out,” the blonde explained, obviously acting as the leader of the pack from the passenger seat.
“Number one, that doesn’t matter. You have to stop at every stop sign. Number two, you didn’t stop at the one in the parking lot either.”
“Just give me the ticket.” The driver turned to her friends. “I’ll just pay it before anyone knows.” 
“I’m actually writing you for two different tickets for failure to come to a complete stop as well as reckless driving since you cut off those other cars.” I glanced down at the registration I held in my hands. “Oh, this isn’t your name on the title of the car.”
“No, it’s my dad’s. He gave me the car for my birthday.”
“I’m going to have to call your parents since it is in his name.” I glanced down at her driver’s license and bit back a scoff. Breezy Kidd, yes, that was her fucking name, no shit.
“You can’t do that,” the girl in the passenger seat demanded. “This is harassment. You are harassing us.”
I leaned down so I was at eye level. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Umm, actually you do. All three of you have to hand your IDs over to me.”
The one girl in the back seat complied and passed hers forward, but the girl in the passenger seat was on my last nerve. “I don’t have it with me.”
“Here’s the issue. Your friend Breezy is eighteen and has committed enough traffic violations that I can write her up for illegal right hand turn, failure to yield right away, careless driving, illegal lane change, and reckless driving, which is criminal, requires her attendance in front of a judge, and can cause her car to be impounded. So, either you comply with the law or the law will not be in your favor.” 
Breezy jerked her head and stared at the passenger. “Hand over your license.”
“I’d listen to your friend. Because if the car is impounded, I’m going to have to call a squad car to come get you until you present your ID. We need to make sure you don’t have any warrants or that you aren’t a minor.” Finally getting through to her, she grabbed her license from her bag and handed it to me. I looked at the name. Brittany. Why wasn’t I shocked? “Now I’ll start with you, give me your parent’s phone number,” I said to the driver. She called her dad and was instantly in tears. Clearly, she knew how to play him. The girl in the back seat, Mikayla, who’d been the quietest, called her mom, had tears in her eyes, and even apologized to me . . . there was hope for the future yet. Brittany called her mom, and it was clear that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Mom, Breezey got pulled over. Some female cop.” The girl paused, and it didn’t take Neil Fucking Armstrong to figure out that they were bashing me. “Yeah, probably, she looks like she was probably checking us out. You’re right, that’s probably why she pulled us over. Okay. Love you too, bye.” 
When all three were done, I’d written Breezy a ticket with three different citations, and then I let them go. And whoever said that being cop wasn’t fun? 
It was close to quitting time, so I eased into traffic and headed back toward the stations, but before I got far, my radio crackled with an incoming a call. 
“Orange County, Commercial, Signal twenty-nine, Alpha, 441 and Waterbridge.”
I wanted to get home as much as the next person, but I was only two blocks away, and as much as I hated it, this was part of my job too. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, reference signal twenty-nine commercial alpha, I’m nearby. Assign it to me.”
“Orange County copies, seventeen thirty-three. Alarm, Hampton Storage, monitoring company has tried to get in contact with the property owner. Internal motion sensor has not been triggered.”
“Ten ninety-seven.” I stopped talking after giving dispatch the code that told them I was on scene. I dismounted my bike and checked the doors to the main building, which were all locked. I pulled a card out of my pocket and stuck it through the mail slot, proof that I was here and checked. The sign said that they closed at six PM, and since it was ten of six, my guess was that someone cut out early today. 
With nothing of note happening out front, I got back on my bike and slowly drove around toward the back. The alarm was still blaring as I rounded the corner to find the back gates wide open and two men on Harleys parked in front of a closed unit.
Even from forty yards away, I could tell that the men were wearing cuts and not just any cuts, they were members of the Heretics. Orlando had several biker gangs, many being one percenters. Most of them lived by the rule: leave us the fuck alone and we will leave you the fuck alone. But not the Heretics. Nope, they were the bullies. The I-want-to-start-a-fight-just-because-I-can type. The type of gang that will kick someone’s ass because they thought it made them look big. When they were done, their victims were seldom left breathing.
So, I stayed where I was and called into dispatch. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, ten fifty-six, Hamptons Storage on Waterbridge, signal forty-four, expedite, multiple subjects, known signal zero.” That sounded good, I needed backup because they were people who were known to be armed and dangerous. 
Retreating wasn’t an option, I was a deputy, this was my job, and the last thing I wanted was to turn my back on known killers.
At that moment, I wished for a car full of snotty teenagers over these guys, I could handle them. I said a prayer for backup to be nearby and that they would hurry, and I had just finished it about the same time the subjects turned in my direction. I could feel their eyes boring into me. Chills went down my spine, and I flipped my snap on my holster to give my fingers something to do, my heart thumping as the two riders rode over to me.
They were night and day, the one on the left looked like Hollywood’s version of scary biker dude. His cut read Sergeant at Arms, Bladder. 
Bladder? 
What kind of name was Bladder? He was of medium build, had a beard that could double as a rat’s nest, chains that hung from his pockets to his belt loops, and his face was . . . well . . . all I could do was hear Ham’s voice from The Sandlot. “You know, if my dog were as ugly as you, I’d shave his butt and tell him to walk backwards.”
The other guy also had a beard, but his was what they called a groomed beard—like he actually gave a damn if crumbs fell onto his face. He probably weighed two hundred pounds, and his cut read Candy. I would never understand where bikers get their names. He was on his bike, so I had to take that into account, but I would put him at least six feet.
As I continued my mental catalog, I took in his dirty-blond hair, his muscular arms. I studied the shaped of his face, sloping nose, hooded eyes, and then froze when I locked on to hazel eyes. Eyes that I still saw in my dreams. My eyes darted to his upper lip, and I caught myself before I could lean forward, not to touch him but to get a closer look at the scar there, it wasn’t as pronounced as the one Liam had when we were kids, but that was normal, scars faded over time, right?
It was as if I was eight years old again and he had been reading me Harry Potter. He’d taken me to the park and we both picked sticks to make into wands. When we got back to his house, he’d grabbed a pocketknife and had attempted to carve my name into my “wand.” When he tried to smooth the edges, he pulled back on the blade and lost control and cut his lip. He ended up getting stitches. 
It wasn’t long after that when he left during the night without saying goodbye, but I knew this was him.
“Liam?” I asked.






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Author Bio


Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James who won’t stop calling her or asking her out. 

And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50 something mom with grown kids, she’s been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and now get her kicks riding a Harley.

As far as her body, she can thank, Ben & Jerry’s for that as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.

Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly silly men).


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RELEASE BLITZ: “Another Round” by Nikki Belaire

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Title: Another Round
Author: Nikki Belaire
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

She knows I would die for her. Even if her father is the one who wants me dead.

A call I don’t expect. A job I don’t want. A hassle I don’t need. I’d protected his wife a long time ago, and now the notorious mob boss wants me to keep his daughter safe. I resist the tempting and troublesome mafia princess for as long as I can, but once I take her, there’s no going back, no giving her back. She thinks what we have between us is just a fling, but I know we’re forever. Regardless of what she says or her dad orders. 

Another Round is a friends-to-lovers, older man/younger woman mafia romance and touches on sensitive topics. Reader discretion advised. No cheating or cliffhanger.







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Excerpt

I lead her to the stool where I normally serve her dinner. She climbs up and slides her pert arse across the wood. Crossing her gorgeous legs out of habit. That tempt me more than ever knowing how close I came to having some other bastard touch them.

She takes in the mess on the floor behind me. Anxiety drawing down her face as she peruses the damage. “What happened?”

My palm cups her cheek to turn her back to face me. The only thing I give a damn about is settling things between us. Setting her straight about other men. Or the lack there of going forward. “I dropped it.”

“Andy?”

Now she knows I’m the one who’s lying. Silky hair brushing across my forearm as she tilts her head in worry and disbelief. Making the cords tighten from her concern over my stuff. Over my anger. Over me.

I place my fists on each side of the counter behind her. Locking her in place. Trapping her between my arms. Applying old interrogation methods she won’t be able to fight. “Who was that guy?”

She swallows and licks her lips. Responding to the demand pulsing in my tone.

“Josh. Lauren’s engaged to his older brother Logan.”

Tension surges between us from the proximity of our bodies. From her squirming in her seat. From her looking up at me with no way out from under my gaze. “Are you going to go out with him?”

Never fucking happening but I want to know what she intends. What she mistakenly believes I’m going to allow her to get away with.

“We just met.”

I don’t fall for her dismissive tone. As if the idea is preposterous. As if she’s never considered the possibility. As if I have nothing to be concerned about. “Are you going to go out with him?”

My voice is low, hard, almost unrecognizable even to myself with a possessiveness I’ve never heard. I’ve never experienced until now.

“Lauren is trying to fix us up. A double date. She thinks–”

“What do you think?”

She shivers when I lean closer. My nose nudging her hair out of the way while my lips brush over her ear. A shuddering breath blows against my cheek and fireworks explode across my skin when her hand curls over my opposite shoulder. Steadying herself from me engulfing her.

“He’s n-nice. He’s easy to talk to.”

“Of course he is. He wants to fuck you.”

“That’s all you think I am?” My accusation enrages her, and she twists to the side, trying to face me again. Too small to be at eye level she stares up at me with all the bravado she can muster, leveling me with her disgust. Before I got sympathy and compassion. Now I get unadulterated fury. She’s pissed as hell at me. Almost as much as I am at her. “That’s all you think anyone would ever want from me?”

What she lacks in size she makes up for in rage. Shredding me to the core with the pain in her wracked body. The mafia princess in her full glory as she rolls back her shoulders and gives me a hard shove. “Get the fuck off me!”

Fuck that. My hands encircle her wrists, and I diminish my force to ensure I don’t crush the fine bones under my fingers. “I’m not finished talking to you.”

“Well I’m finished with you. I’m tired of being humiliated. Now let me go!”

The agony in her voice slices through me, and I still. Shocked by her allegation. I’m hung over and my damn head’s spinning from booze and lust, but I know I can’t be hearing her right. “I may have fucked up more times than I can count, but I know I’ve never humiliated you.”

Straining against my grip, she keeps fighting for me to release her. Which will never happen. “That’s all you ever do.”

“Trouble, you’re going to have to explain it to me because I’m totally confused.”

Misery surges in me with the loss of her gaze. Unwilling to look at me. Her shoulders drooping as much as her fire fades. “When I held your hand you couldn’t get me off of you fast enough. And when I kissed you, you rolled away. It’s embarrassing that you don’t want me.”

No one has ever been more wrong than her in this moment. “Look down.” She draws in a shaky breath from the huskiness of my voice. From the need in my eyes and my touch and my body. “Look down at my cock and see how much I want you.”

Her forehead brushes my chin, and I breathe deep, relishing the enticing scent of her flowery shampoo with the top of her head near my lips as we stare at my dick bulging in my pants of its own volition. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

“Then why do you keep rejecting me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

Once again I fuck up and have no choice but to let her go. Instantly, her arms cross over her chest in protection of her wounded heart. She still refuses to look at me. I force her to, sliding my fingers under her chin and lifting her exquisite face to mine. “If things were different I’d make you mine.”

“I want to be yours.”

Fuck. She is killing me. “You know that can’t happen.”






Author Bio


Nikki writes contemporary romantic thrillers and admits to a weakness for bad boys, especially ones who can’t live without the strong women they love. She spends more time in her characters’ lives than her own. But, when she’s in the real world, her passions include reading, wine appreciating, running, and spending time with her husband and daughter.


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RELEASE BLITZ: “Cruel Boy” by Clarissa Wild

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Title: Cruel Boy
Author: Clarissa Wild
Genre: Dark Bully Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Rich boys sin best.
Gossip always goes around at Falcon Elite Prep.
Everyone knows Nate Wilson, the most popular football quarterback and every girl’s crush.
But there’s more behind those drop-dead gorgeous eyes and that killer smile …
He’s a notorious heartbreaker …
And he’s got his eyes set on me.
The twisted games he plays are cruel and dangerous.
He teases and tempts me … just to ruin me.
Because I know the one thing he doesn’t want anyone to know.
A big, dirty secret …
And there’s nothing bad boys won’t do to keep a secret buried.







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Excerpt

He’s so close now, all the ridges of his abs underneath his shirt are visible, and it’s almost making me want to reach out and touch them.
Stop this, Sam. Just fucking stop it.
“You make me laugh,” he mutters, placing both hands on the windowsill behind me, caging me inside his arms once again.
Goddammit.
“You piss me off,” I reply.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he quips.
One of his hands slides from the windowsill to my hand, and I freeze. His warm hand feels like lightning shooting all over my skin as it travels up my arm.
“You should know better than to taunt me,” he says, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I like scared little girls … like you.”
His tongue dips out and grazes along the rim of my ear. A chill runs up my spine as he places his other hand on my knee. The oxygen is knocked right out of me when he slides it upward along my thigh.
“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, adding a groan that sets my body on fire. “I like that.”
His hand creeps up my red and black checkered skirt, fingers curling underneath the fabric of my panties.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why am I letting him do this? He’s the bad guy.
He groans again, tugging at the elastic to pull them down. “You’re a filthy … little … thief.”
RIP!
In one quick pull, he’s torn them straight off.
I gasp in shock as he holds my panties in his hand, wearing a victorious grin on his face.
“What the—?”
He brings them to his face and takes a whiff, a delicious moan grumbling in his throat.
“I’ll hold onto these,” he murmurs, stuffing them into his pocket.
And after a dirty look, he turns around and walks off.
“What?” I mutter, ignoring the throbbing sensation between my legs.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Consider it a down payment … I’ll give them back if you give me those pictures within a day. And if you don’t, I’ll find more creative ways to tempt you.”
So that’s what this is all about. Extortion. I should’ve known, shouldn’t have been so gullible to assume he’d ever feel something for me. Playing with lust as though it’s a goddamn tool.
I spit at him, but it lands on the floor. “You’re a disgusting piece of shit, Nate Wilson.”
He doesn’t even look at me when he says, “Believe me, I know.”
Then he closes the door on me.






Author Bio


Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of Dark Romance and Contemporary Romance novels. She is an avid reader and writer of swoony stories about dangerous men and feisty women. Her other loves include her hilarious husband, her two crazy but cute dogs, and her ninja cat that sometimes thinks he’s a dog too. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, playing video games, reading tons of books, and cooking her favorite meals.

Want to get an email when my next book is released? Sign up here to receive 4 FREE short stories: http://eepurl.com/FdY71 


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BOOK BLITZ: “Chasing Beverly” by Ashlynn Cubbison

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Chasing Beverly
Ashlynn Cubbison
Published by: Acorn Publishing
Publication date: September 29th 2019
Genres: Romance, Sports, Young Adult

Two people. One chance to let it all go.

Seeking redemption, Beverly Morgan has spent the last three years building an empire that was someone else’s dream. Devoted to her work, a handful of friends, and an array of charities, she’s been able to lock away her heart and convince herself it’s dead. After an unthinkable tragedy, Beverly should know by now that a single day can change everything.

She can’t run from love forever.

Gavin has it all, a thriving business, phenomenal family, supportive friends, but an hour with Beverly Morgan makes him question his entire life and his own happiness.

She could be exactly what he needs, if she’s brave enough to open up again.

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—

EXCERPT:

I’m four days shy of my eighteenth birthday, sandwiched between two Olympic gold medalists, and preparing to race for a spot in the 2016 Summer Olympics for the 400-meter event.

How did I even make it to the finals?

Hot bile floods my throat. As sweat drips from my brow, I hear a crazy woman shouting over the crowd.

“Breathe, baby! Breathe!”

Peeking over at the gate to the right of me, our eyes connect. I realize she’s my crazy woman. With her huge smile and eyes blazing with pride, my mom always brings me comfort. My gaze slides from her encouraging face and lands on that of my boyfriend. Patrick’s crooked smile has been the same since we were kids.

Just the sight of them, here by my side, reassures me. I gulp in a deep, cleansing breath and bow my head. This silences the deafening noise, and it helps me to forget my shortcomings.

“On your marks!” a stern voice—the voice I’ve been listening for—bellows over the loudspeaker.

I step in front of my tightly spaced starting blocks, jumping one last time into the air to activate my muscles. Then I crawl backwards into the blocks, my left foot positioned in the back. As I slide my feet in, a smirk creeps across my lips. I picture Coach Schwarz in the stands, scolding me like he does before every race.

“Morgan, switch your damn feet, and space out your blocks more!”

My left knee digs into the rubbery Tartan Track. I focus on the connection of my damp skin against the hot track below. I say a silent prayer, thanking it for supporting my feet and body race after race.

Then, one last breath. I position my fingers behind the white line and await my next command.

“Set!” booms the Starter’s robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

My hips shoot straight up. Fire replaces my blood, surging through my veins.

BANG!

The starting gun reverberates through me.

I push out of the blocks, careful not to go out too hard in the first 200 meters. Keeping my eyes glued straight ahead, I don’t allow my opponents to bait me. Instead, I wait for my time. I stick close to the pack until I see my sweet spot ahead.

“Kick. Kick. Kick.” The words play like a mantra in my head as I round the second curve of the track. My body is weightless. My brain needs no prompting as it propels my legs forward. My feet become lighter, and my spikes barely touch the track before shooting forward for my next stride.

My arms pump harder as I enter my part of the race. The part in which I shine, the part I relish. The finish line is just ahead. Movement on my right enters my peripheral vision. I feel Sammy closing in. She’s right on my tail.


Author Bio:

Ashlynn Cubbison is a goal-oriented, driven woman, who owns and operates four companies with her husband. They have two beautiful sons together, and although her life is chaotic, fun, full of love and never the same each day, somehow she finds room for writing as well.

Growing up Ashlynn struggled with reading. Then, in her sophomore year of high school, a small seed was planted. After acing a literary test, her teacher looked her square in the eye and said “you’ve been selling yourself short all year. I wonder what you could achieve with some effort.” After delving deeper into books, she discovered Pride and Prejudice, and has been an obsessive reader ever since.

Eventually her love of books translated into writing. She hopes to inspire others, especially children, to find their passion as she did.

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COVER REVEAL: “Rock Star, Interrupted” by S.M. Shade

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Title: Rock Star, Interrupted
Series: Tragic Duet #1
Author: S.M. Shade
Genre: Rock Star Romance
Cover Design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Release Date: October 29, 2019



Blurb

I found my stillness, my space between breaths, when I was a kid. The answer is simple. If it hurts, I pour music on it.
After years of hard work, it’s finally happening. Tragic has a number one album and we’ve gone from being discussed as one hit wonders to hearing words like meteoric mentioned alongside our name.
With two tours planned and another album on its way, we have a lot to look forward to. Playing in a different city every night, the shimmer and roar of the crowd, after parties and endless women.
My lifelong dream is in the palm of my hand until one phone call leaves everything hanging in the balance.







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Excerpt

Axton steps up to the mic with a smile that no doubt wets women’s panties. “We have some songs for you.” He pauses to let the responding roar of the crowd die down. As it does, a woman wolf whistles, and he turns his head to wink at her, making the audience lose it. Thunder booms again, and he smiles. “You aren’t going to let some rain run you off, are you?” While the cheers and screams drown out everything again, he steps back, motions to Elliot and they begin to play.
I’ve streamed his music. I’ve heard him practice and sing at home. His talent was never in doubt, but this…I can’t even describe the experience. Everything else falls away. It’s fully dark outside and he’s backlit by deep blue lights as his voice raises goosebumps on my skin. The song builds and he moves around the stage like he’s part of it, like every inch belongs to him. His face contorts with such passion as he belts out the powerful chorus, then relaxes when the verse resumes in his low, soulful croon.
Eyes closed. Wet hair hanging in his face. So much emotion.
The crowd is as silent as I’ve heard them all day, hanging on every sound he makes. The drums kick in and the lights flash in tandem. His face is illuminated in a spotlight as he sings the last verse with more intensity, jumping and moving with the music as if he’s possessed by it.
He’s like a different being up there. There’s some sort of…magic. A force that seems to wrap around him, to cloak the entire crowd and pull everyone into that space with him. Into a world where he’s all that exists.
My throat tightens as I listen, my gaze glued to the man I’ve only recently managed not to despise. But who could fight against this? His voice is ecstasy charged by summer thunder, sweet agony wrapped in desire. It holds the promise of feverish love and whispered, filthy things.
The way the crowd reacts to him, reaches for him, the sobbing and screams, I understand it now. He’s chaos and calm, heady and all consuming.
And they fucking love it.






Author Bio


I’m a full time author who is hopelessly addicted to iced coffee, love stories, sunshine, and men with full sexy lips, though not necessarily in that order. A voracious reader since I sounded out my first word, I started writing as a teenager and rediscovered my love of writing as an adult. Originally from Indianapolis, I now live in a small Kentucky town with my college age son.


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COVER REVEAL: “Unexpected Fall” by Kaylee Ryan

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Title: Unexpected Fall
Series: Unexpected Arrivals #3
Author: Kaylee Ryan
Genre: New Adult Romance
Cover Design: Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Photo: Eric Battershell
Model: Corey Mortenson
Release Date: October 10, 2019



Blurb

Life is full of ups and downs. Events that shape who you are, even those that are filled with heartbreak and tragedy.

What do you do when actions bring devastation?

How do you pick up the pieces and keep moving forward?

One breath.
One second.
One minute.
One hour.
One day at a time, you learn to live with your unexpected fall.







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Only available at the following retailers
until October 9

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Available in audio on October 10

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Author Bio


Kaylee Ryan is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.  When she’s not spinning tales of happily ever after, she’s reading or spending time with family.  Born and raised an Ohio girl, Kaylee resides in Cincinnati with her husband and their son.


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RELEASE BLITZ: “Desperately Seeking Landlord” by Micalea Smeltzer

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Title: Desperately Seeking Landlord
Author: Micalea Smeltzer
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: September 27, 2019



Blurb

It was just supposed to be a fling.
It would end and we’d go our separate ways.
I should know by now nothing in my life is ever that simple.

When Jamie Miller knocks on my door ten months after we ended our …  whatever it was, I promptly punch him in his smug face, for no other reason than I feel like it and he deserves it.

It’s probably not the best way to handle things, but I’ve never been good at doing things properly.

When he tells me he’s my new landlord, my whole world is rocked.

But Jamie? He wants to prove to me he’s more than an egotistical jerk and for some reason he’s decided he wants me.

I don’t think love is in the cards for me, and definitely not with Jamie, but he’s determined to prove me wrong.







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Excerpt

“I have to get whatever this is out, before it moves again, so … watch out.”
Before I have the chance to contemplate running into the living room and dive bombing onto the couch, he pulls the tile down, and dust explodes everywhere.
Coughing, from the onslaught of insulation falling out I jolt when something smacks into my chest.
I scream, ready to lodge the thing off of me when I hear the tiniest, most pitiful meow.
“It’s a kitty!” I exclaim in surprise. It comes out sounding more like kittaaay. I see big blue eyes and dusty oatmeal fur before I hug the kitten to my neck.
Jamie steps off the toilet lid, sets down the tile he cut out, and rubs drywall dust and insulation from his hair. “A cat?”
“A kitten.” I hold out the fluffy furball proudly so he can see. “My ceiling gave birth.”
He frowns at the kitten. “It’s dirty.”
“She’s perfect,” I croon, cuddling the squirming kitten to my chest. I don’t even know if it’s a girl, but it feels like she is.
“You’re not keeping the cat, Miranda,” he growls in warning. “Animals are not allowed.”
I jut my bottom lip out. “I should get special privileges. I am fucking the landlord.” I wink at him while petting the kitten on the top of her fluffy head. To the cat I say, “How’d you even get up in my ceiling?”
Jamie sighs, scrubbing his hands down his jaw. “Its mom probably got on the roof somehow and this one got separated.”
I hold the fluffy puff out at arm’s length. “You can be the Beta to my Alpha. The Fettuccine to my Alfredo. Ooh, that should be your name, Fettuccine.”
Jamie groans. “You’re not keeping it.”
“No, of course not,” I assure him. “I’ll take her to the animal shelter tomorrow.”
“Mhmm.”
He doesn’t believe me. He’s right to be wary. No way am I willingly giving up this cat. It feels like some sort of sign. If a kitten falls from your ceiling, clearly it’s chosen you, right? The wand chooses the wizard, after all, so can’t the cat choose the cat lady?
“I promise,” I tell him, crossing the fingers of my left hand behind my back. “Fettuccine will be out of here before you know it.”
Sure, I won’t be able to keep this a secret forever, but hopefully I can come up with a way to persuade him later.
His eyes narrow and I hope to God my nose isn’t twitching, because I’m in deep shit if it is.
“You shouldn’t name it. Names lead to attachment.”
“You shouldn’t call me sweetheart. Nicknames show a kind of fondness,” I mock playfully.
He leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’s begging it for answers.
“Between you, Toby, and my mom, I’m headed to an early grave.” I grin widely at him as he lowers his head and looks at me. “What?” he asks with confusion.
“You called him Toby.”
“Dammit,” he curses, bending to move the tile out of the way. “Don’t tell him I slipped up.”
Petting the cat, I lean my hip against the counter. “Ooh, blackmail. I won’t tell if you let me keep the cat.”






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Author Bio


Hi. I’m Micalea. Ma-call-e-uh. Weird name, I know. My mom must’ve known I was going to be odd even in the womb. I’ve written a lot of books. Like a lot. Don’t ask me how many, I don’t remember at this point. I have an unhealthy addiction to Diet Coke but I can’t seem to break the habit. I listen to way too much music and hedgehogs have taken over my life. Crazy is the word that best sums up my life, but it’s the good kind of crazy and I wouldn’t change it for anything.


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BOOK FEATURE: “Reveal” by K. Bromberg

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Reveal - BT banner

I play to win, and I won’t let anything—or anyone—get in the way of what I want.

REVEAL, the raw, sexy, and jaw-dropping finale to the Wicked Ways series by New York Times bestselling author K. Bromberg, is available now!

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The first time I met Vaughn Sanders, I knew I wanted her. Confident, intelligent, and downright sexy. I thought I knew how to play her game. I was ready and willing for the challenge. Little did I know she was full of secrets and surprises.

But so am I.

Charming a woman into my bed has never been my problem. It’s the relationship part that is. They want it. I don’t. But can you blame me? Broken marriages are how I make a living. Hell, no self-respecting man would let a woman own his thoughts, invade his dreams, and steal his heart. So how in the world has Vaughn done that to me?

I’ve fallen in love with her. There. I said it. But that acknowledgment comes with a heavy price.

Everything and everyone seem to be working against us, leaving us both to question whether what we have is worth the cost.

I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight.

Reveal - AN

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Start the series today with RESIST

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She want's a fight_

Excerpt

“Ryker . . . please . . . just let me go.” But this time when she speaks there is something in her voice that catches my ear. The same thing that has me looking a little bit closer, regardless of how much my chest constricts in doing so, and I notice the tears welling in her eyes and the tremble of her bottom lip. A chink in her damn armor. She doesn’t want to tell me we’re over any more than I want to believe her. “What the fuck is going on here? You’re hiding something from me.” “No. I’m not. This just can’t be.” She starts to skirt around me, and it takes everything I have not to reach out and keep her there. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” “And don’t you think for a second you can tell me what to do,” she counters, hair flying over her shoulder, jaw clenched. “I’m not in the mood for your games.” “My games?” she screeches and throws me off guard when I shouldn’t be. “My games? You’re the one who did this to me. All of it. And you tell me I’m playing games?” “What the—?” I stop and try to figure out what she’s talking about. My hands are on her shoulders, and I’m all but shaking her to force her to look me in the eyes. “Did what to you, Vaughn? What the hell have I done to you besides fuck myself over by falling in love with you?” Words that should be said with kindness come out in a frustrated rage. Truths I don’t want to voice, and now I can’t take them back. And she just stands there with her head shaking to reject my words, eyes wide with a hint of fear, and fuck if I don’t hate myself right now for everything I feel: rage, desperation, love, desire. How can you swear you’re not cut out for a relationship and love in one breath, then with the next fight so goddamn hard to keep it? What is this woman doing to me? I scrub my hands over my face and take a deep breath to calm the fuck down. To force myself to cool my temper so I can keep her here instead of pushing her farther away. “What is it, baby?” I all but plead with a voice as soft as I can make it. “Tell me why you’re walking away when you don’t want to.” She averts her eyes, confirming there’s something more. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened. I can’t understand why the other night meant nothing to you until you do.” Come on. Talk to me. “Carter paid me a visit after I left your place.” Her voice is soft, but her defiance is mounting. That’s definitely not what I expected to come out of her mouth. “What do you mean, Carter paid you a visit?” “Just what I said.” “Why? For what? That fucking asshole better not have touched you.” “Does it matter if he did?” Her voice rises. “You invited him into my personal life. You gave him everything he needs to destroy me.”

About K. Bromberg

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels—Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)—and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

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Website: http://www.kbromberg.com

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