Showing posts with label BLITZ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BLITZ. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

release blitz || THE MATCHMAKER'S PLAYBOOK by Rachel Van Dyken


27383715
Skyscrape | March 5, 2016 | New Adult Romance
Wingman Inc, book 1

Wingman rule number one: don’t fall for a client.

After a career-ending accident, former NFL recruit Ian Hunter is back on campus—and he’s ready to get his new game on. As one of the masterminds behind Wingmen, Inc., a successful and secretive word-of-mouth dating service, he’s putting his extensive skills with women to work for the lovelorn. But when Blake Olson requests the services of Wingmen, Inc., Ian may have landed his most hopeless client yet.

From her frumpy athletic gear to her unfortunate choice of footwear, Blake is going to need a miracle if she wants to land her crush. At least with a professional matchmaker by her side she has a fighting chance. Ian knows that his advice and a makeover can turn Blake into another successful match. But as Blake begins the transformation from hot mess to smokin’ hot, Ian realizes he’s in danger of breaking his cardinal rule.…
amazon
* free on Kindle Unlimited!

Sunday, March 20, 2016

SHOPPING FOR A BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE { book blitz } by Julia Kent


Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife
Julia Kent
(Shopping for a Billionaire #8)
Publication date: March 23rd 2016
Genres: Comedy, New Adult, Romance
Who needs a SWAT team to escape from their own wedding? Me.
My Momzilla turned us into hostages at our own ceremony, so Declan and I are getting married the good old-fashioned way, just like everybody else.
By calling in his private security team, stealing away before the ceremony by helicopter, connecting to his corporate jet and heading for Las Vegas.
The Boston wedding of the year is about to become a trashy Elvis drive-thru ceremony.
Until the best man spills the beans and Mom, Dad, my sisters, his brothers, my maid of honor, my friend Josh, and even my cat, Chuckles, all come along for the ride.
I can’t win, can I?
Oh. Yeah. I already did.
Love conquers all.
Even my crazy family.
Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife is the 8th book in the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Shopping for a Billionaire series. After Declan convinces Shannon to escape from their own wedding minutes before the ceremony begins, the madcap adventures are just getting started. When the mother of the bride pries their location out of the tortured best man, the whole crazy crew follows the bride and groom to Las Vegas in this romantic comedy from Julia Kent.
EXCERPT:
We are at a private airport I’ve never seen before. The sky is that glorious shade of blue that seems to deepen as you look up, with a smattering of clouds that draw the eye to them. It’s a perfect, idyllic July day in Massachusetts.
A great day for an outdoor wedding.
Declan and the helicopter pilot, whose name I never caught, exchange a few words in Russian before I rib my soon-to-be husband and whisper, “Would you please speak in English?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
He just stares at me with that intimidatingly blank face.
“That doesn’t work, you know,” I tell him with a pointed sneer. Or, at least, I try to sneer. I’m not so good at the sneering thing. That’s more Jessica Coffin’s area of expertise.
He doesn’t twitch a muscle. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want me to know what he and the pilot are talking about. Fine. Fine!
But this alpha-male dominant crap – you know, the stuff I fell in love with him for – is getting on my nerves.
“Declan, please,” I concede.
No change.
The exasperated hiss that comes out of me makes my body flush with fury. “It’s our wedding day. I am supposed to be kissing you at the altar right now while the minister pronounces us husband and wife. Instead, I listened to you and went along with this crazy scheme to run off to Las Vegas and leave everyone – everyone! — behind.”
Side note: I know that’s not true. The decision to ditch my mother was mutual. But right now, I have zero leverage, and he’s giving me that granite look like he’s an Easter Island statue, so I have to find some kind of vulnerability in him.
I’m saving sex for the nuclear option.


Author Bio:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.

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Friday, March 18, 2016

MISS MISERY { blitz } by Tracey Martin


Wicked Misery
Tracey Martin
(Miss Misery #1)
Published by: Samhain Publishing
Publication date: October 7th 2014
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
It s all quasi-legal fun until somebody gets framed for murder.
Jessica Moore thrives on misery. Literally. Thanks to a goblin’s curse, she gets a magical high from humanity’s suffering. A shameful talent like that could bury a girl in guilt, so to atone, she uses her dark power to hunt murderers, rapists and other scumbags until one of them frames her for his crimes.
In desperation, Jessica seeks refuge with the one person she trusts to not turn her in, a satyr named Lucen. Like every member of his race, Lucen uses his lusty magic to control Boston’s human population, and Jessica isn’t immune to his power. But the murder victims belonged to a rival race, and when they discover Lucen is harboring Jessica, dodging the cops becomes the least of her problems.
With only five days to find the real killer, Jessica faces a danger far more serious than the brewing magical war. The danger of succumbing to Lucen’s molten seduction.
Warning: Contains a heroine with a lust for misery, creepy murders, and creepier goblins, satyrs so hot you’d sell your soul for one, and scaly sewer rats masquerading as dragons. Who said magic was all sparkles and tiaras?
The complete series:
WickedMisery300 DirtyLittleMisery300 MiseryLovesCompany300
DarkestMisery300 MiseryHappens300
EXCERPT BOOK 1:
Lucen hung up, and I jogged the rest of the way down the block to the bar. He was already outside by the time I got there, looking freshly showered in jeans but no shirt or shoes. His blond waves dripped water on broad shoulders. I winced. He’d better put on a shirt soon or I was going to have a hard time concentrating. Yeah, being framed for murder sounded like it should easily take precedence over a chiseled chest and a six-pack, but only to someone who never spent time around satyrs. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Lucen stood on the stoop next to the bar, holding the front door open. “Come on in.”
“I didn’t know you lived above The Lair.”
“There’s lots you don’t know about me because you’re always running away.”
I squeezed past him, getting a good whiff of his cinnamon-tinged skin and undoubtedly a good dose of his lusty magic. My hands twitched, eager to attach themselves to that broad swath of chest and trace every contour of muscle, to follow that thin line of blond hairs on his stomach to where it disappeared into his waistband and beyond. I dug my nails into my palms. The pain helped, but not as much as usual. “I hate to be rude since you’re doing me a huge favor, but could you put on a shirt?”
“If you insist, or you could take off yours and call it even.”
“I’m being framed for murder. I’ve got more important things to worry about than whether I’m wearing my pretty bra.”
Abruptly, some of my lust subsided, pulled back almost as though a blanket had been tugged off my skin. Lucen gaped at me, his eyes filled with shock.
Could he do that? Keep a handle on his power if he wanted to? Granted, not all my desire had disappeared, but the worst of it had. Damn it, if I didn’t need his goodwill right now—whatever little goodwill a satyr might have, that was—I’d want to kill him for never bothering to do this before.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared to the right, and feet pounded up some unseen stairs.
I wandered deeper into his apartment, not expecting to find it so light and airy. The kitchen was immediately to my left. Through a doorway I could see steps, and beyond that a small, tastefully decorated living room. Muted sunlight seeped into the joint kitchen and dining area through linen drapes. I pulled them aside and discovered sliding doors leading onto a small deck that overlooked a parking lot. All in all, not a bad spot. But then, rents in Shadowtown were cheaper than almost anywhere else in the Boston area. For all I knew, Lucen owned this entire building.
He was right in that regard. I’d never bothered to learn much about him. Prolonged conversations had always felt like an invitation for trouble.
With that thought in mind, I plunked myself down at the kitchen table, wondering whether this had been a bad idea of Biblical proportions. Until now, I’d never exactly sought out Lucen’s company. Since the beginning of our relationship, it had always been the other way around. After all, most of the major religions taught that preds were on this planet to tempt humanity to ruin, and I usually saw no point in throwing myself at temptation.


Author Bio:
Tracey Martin grew up outside of Philadelphia, the lucky recipient of a drama-free childhood, which is why she spent so much time reading about other people’s lives. It was while she was working on her doctorate in psychology that she had an epiphany–imaginary people are way more fun than real ones. And so she began writing. Never able to choose just one of anything, she currently writes both urban fantasy for adults and contemporary stories for teens.
She likes her coffee simple, her music epic, and her movies to contain explosions. A city girl at heart, she doesn’t understand how she and her husband ended up living in New Hampshire, but writing keeps her off the mean, small town streets. You can find her online at tracey-martin.com.

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Saturday, March 5, 2016

SUBMISSION SPECIALIST { book blitz } by Ada Scott


Submission Specialist
Ada Scott
(Still a Bad Boy #2)
Publication date: February 26th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
Instead of Prince Charming, I got Him.
Skylar
I promised I’d save myself for my wedding night.
Of course, I didn’t know it was going to be a fake marriage to a heavyweight MMA fighter. I couldn’t have known how good it would feel to be pinned under all those muscles and tattoos, squirming, panting, and even whimpering in ecstasy.
None of us knew how deeply he was involved with the mafia.
When he disrespects them, they think they can use me to punish him.
They’re wrong.
He’s a tank in human form.
And he’s coming for me.
Austin
Men tap out inside the ring, women surrender themselves outside of it. That’s always been my specialty.
I chose Skylar because she was so innocent. A good girl like her would help sell my reformed image to the public. To corrupt her and leave her ruined for all other men would be my hottest conquest yet.
But I found more in Skylar than that. Who’d have thought that the first woman I wanted to lay more than once would be my wife?
Now they think they can take away what is mine?
Even if I have to kill every last member of the Bertolini Crime Family…
I’m coming for her.
EXCERPT:
I felt like I was sitting inside my own head watching a movie play out as I dropped the remains of my apple in the trash and headed towards the Tier-1 fighters’ area. Uncle Malcolm wasn’t here to show me what to do. All I had was less than a year of study and a general appreciation of massages to rely on. It would have to do.
The Tier-1 wing had a guard at the door who looked mean enough to actually fight for NHBFC, but he let me through when he saw my uniform and heard that Gordon had sent me at Henry’s request. The hallway behind said door was just as chaotic as the ones I’d just left, but for a completely different reason.
With a smaller group of fighters to look after, and an already smaller staff diminished by illness, it was the MMA groupies making the most noise over here. Clusters of some of the most stunning girls currently in the city hovered around their favorite fighters’ doors, giggling and talking loudly. It wasn’t official of course, but the guard knew only to let in the best of the best.
The intensity of their beauty only served to make me feel self-conscious, as I awkwardly nudged my way through them to Austin’s door. Most of them were taller than me and the tops they wore made absolutely sure to show off their breasts, at my eye-level, to maximum effect.
They made me feel like a potato in a diamond display case as I sheepishly knocked on the door. A few moments later an older guy, Austin’s coach, snatched the door open.
“I told you bitches he isn’t ready yet!”
“Uh, Gordon sent me? Henry said you-”
“Oh, right, yeah. He’s just in the shower-”
The groupies in earshot all squealed and started talking at once.
“You come in, he’ll be ready in a second, I’m stepping out. Lock it behind you. Which of you girls wants to do me a special favor so I put a good word in for you with The Killer?”
I squeezed past him as a chorus of “I do!” “I will” rang out behind me. One of them said “How come the cleaning lady gets to go in?” Another said, “I’ll deepthroat your-” just as the door clicked shut.
Stepping into a Tier-1 dressing room after working on the other side for so long was like stepping into first-class on an airplane after only ever flying coach. They had all the same stuff that we had, but instead of bare concrete, there was actual paint on the walls, a permanent massage table, a brand new heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling on a chain. Plenty of bells and whistles.
Steam poured out of a cracked-open door and I could hear a shower running. I walked over and paused by the door, before knocking even more tentatively than I had on the other one.
“Austin? I’m here for the-”
“I told Ross to tell you I wasn’t ready!” he yelled out.
“Uh… no I’m not… uh… I work here? Henry said you needed a massage?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right out.”
The sound of running water stopped and I caught a flash of movement in the steamed-up mirror through the opening. Quickly, I turned and faced the other way, ashamed at the flush of excitement that came unbidden and made me bite my bottom lip without thinking about it.
After a couple minutes I felt the waft of air as the door was pulled open behind me, and turned to face him. Standing there, wearing only a towel, with beads of water dripping down his neck and torso from his hair, was fan (and my) favorite, Austin “The Killer” Aquila.
That perfectly sculpted body looked like it was made from granite by an artist with an eye for sin, then decorated with ink in designs that curled all over. His thick arms had contours that drew my eyes up to his broad shoulders, and then sent them down across his pecs and over each and every bump of his abs.
His lower abdominals formed lines that narrowed as my eyes roamed lower… lower… lower until the visual ride was abruptly cut off by the towel, which he held up by one hand.
I looked up and heard my jaw click shut when our eyes met. I only hoped I’d closed my mouth before I drooled. If I was looking at him like a piece of art, he was looking at me like a piece of food, and it took all my willpower not to find a plate to climb on to.
All heavyweights have a certain presence. It would be hard not to when you’re a tank that has briefly assumed human form, but Austin had presence that almost seemed to make the air crackle between us and around him. His eyes, they were looking at me in a way that would give my dad a stroke. That brought me partway back to reality.
“Um… over there?” I pointed at the massage table.
“You sure you work here?” he asked.
“Yeah, I… I normally work in Tier-2…”
Austin closed the distance between us and leaned down towards me. My heart tried to jump up my throat to get a better view out my mouth at all that solid muscle so close to me, and my ability to breathe be damned.
“Because, if you’re another girl that stole a uniform just to get in here… well, I’ll have to do to you what I did to her.”
A drop of water fell from his head and landed on my ear, making me flinch. The scent of soap and the faint musk of him filled my lungs as I took a deep breath to offer whatever reassurance I could.
“I promise I work here,” I squeaked.
athlete like me


Author Bio:
Join me here for free downloads, discounts and news:
http://adascott.com/free-bad-boy-romance-download/
A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I'll be there taking notes and making it even sexier :)

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Friday, March 4, 2016

PEARL { book blitz } by Dierdre Riordan Hall


Pearl
Deirdre Riordan Hall
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: March 1st 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
Run fast and run far, unless you’re fearless. Unless you’re courageous. I’m not, but I’d like to be.
Pearl Jaeger is seventeen and homeless after drugs, poverty, and addiction unraveled the life she shared with JJ, her formerly glamorous rock star mother.
This moment of happiness is fleeting; someone will take it from me.
When tragedy brings a chance to start over at an elite boarding school, she doesn’t hesitate. Yet the only salvation comes from an art teacher as troubled as Pearl, and she faces the stark reality that what she thought she wanted isn’t straightforward.
I trace the outline of my reflection in a window. I am no more than a replica of my mother. This is not the self-portrait I want to paint.
Through the friendships she forms at school—especially with Grant, a boy who shows Pearl what it means to trust and forgive—she begins to see a path not defined by her past. But when confronted with the decision to be courageous or to take the easy way forged by her mother’s failures, which direction will Pearl choose?
EXCERPT:
Chapter 2
Sweat and tears intermingle on my mother’s face, and a cut bleeds slowly from the side of her eye.
“Pearl, we gotta get out of here.”
I’ve heard this before. We’ve had to leave abruptly from other situations: lousy boyfriends, landlords she owed rent to, roommates she’d stolen from, and the police.
As the stream of blood reaches her T-shirt, she clutches her side. Her face crumples in agony. “I think I have a broken rib. He hit me with his guitar.”
Everything about this is wrong. I want to wish it all away—go somewhere simple, clean, and faraway, like Antarctica. I’d prefer the cold to the fevered flush of fear running through me. I get to my feet and grab a pair of stretch pants from the floor. I help her into them. As she leans on me, we slowly make our way to the door. In the hall, she falls against the door frame of the bathroom.
“Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She probably needs an ambulance, but who knows how much crack—and whatever else—she has in her system, so I dare not get the police involved. We’ve gone that route, and I don’t want to see her arrested again.
“Wait. Get my purse and some clothing. Pack me a bag. No, never mind. I’ll do it,” she says hoarsely. She gets to her hands and knees and crawls back to her room.
“Mom, come on, let’s just go. I can come back for whatever you need later.” I grip my hands together, my fingers blanching as I hold on tight.
“I have to get a few things,” she whimpers.
“I’ll get them. Tell me what you need,” I say insistently, my vision starting to blur.
She shakes her head, continuing. She wants to get the crack pipe and other drug paraphernalia she has hidden in her room. This scenario is uncomfortably familiar.
I shift from foot to foot. My stomach clenches with anxiety. What if Darren comes back?
Part of me fears what other damage he might do, but the bitter part is that if he comes back with drugs, she’ll do them instead of getting medical attention.
“Mom, let’s go.”
She must have used the bed to pull herself up and stand, because she emerges, staggering on her feet, dragging a duffel bag. “Why don’t you grab some clothes too?”
I scoot past her and stuff a couple of outfits, underwear, and Vogue into my backpack. I scrounged whatever I could this past month, saving every penny, even the ones I found on the ground, to get the latest issue, my lone extravagance. “Ready?” I say when I step back into the hall.
She nods. Step-by-step, we make our way down two of the three flights. She droops on the top of the last one.
“Do you have any money?” she asks.
“No,” I answer honestly. I tried getting a job, but no luck. I com- plain that I have a young face, and well-meaning adults assure me that when I get older, I’ll be thankful. It doesn’t help me now. I inherited my mother’s youthful look, the one she had before drugs and alcohol took their toll. But I’m already taller than her, five seven to her five three, my father’s genes. I’m slender, but that probably has more to do with the scarcity of a hot meal than anything else. She occasionally reminds me I have my father’s gray eyes and his height, like my DNA insults her.
She mumbles something about going to the bank, but all she’ll find are overdraft fees and denied credit. I’m afraid to tell her.
“Go out to the street. See if you recognize anyone. Tell them I need to see them,” she orders me.
I bound down the stairs. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust as I emerge into the bright summer sun. I look up and down the sidewalk. A homeless guy perches on top of a newspaper box, and a kid rides by on a bike. Finding someone my mother knows is a sketchy task. I retreat inside.
“I didn’t see anyone.”
“Pearl, I need to get out of here.” Her cheek rests against the grimy wall, and the gash on the other side still bleeds, staining her yellow T-shirt crimson around the shoulder. “Go across the street to the apartment with the Christmas wreath on the door. Knock six times.” She lifts her knuckles and beats them, weakly, on the floor. “Ask for Pauline.”
The building across the street houses a pimp and an assortment of women who emerge, raccoon-like, around dusk. I’ve met Pauline, long limbed, with scars on her arms that she doesn’t try to hide. My mother has gone over there a few times and returned with fifty, and sometimes a hundred, bucks.
I knock as directed. Vinyl blinds part, and a pair of bloodshot eyes appear. The door opens a crack. I seize the opportunity.
“I’m looking for Pauline. My mom, across the street, needs to see her. It’s urgent.”
The door opens just enough to let me slip through into a dark foyer. Something like cinnamon hangs in the air, but mostly I smell cigarettes and defeat.
A woman about my mom’s age, wearing a silk robe, leads me back to the kitchen.
“Midge. Says she’s lookin’ for Pauline. Somethin’ about her mother across the street.”
A giant of a man sits at the kitchen table, playing solitaire. He looks up at me and licks his lips. “Whatcha looking for, sweetheart?”
I swallow hard. Leave it to my mother to put me in this situation. I draw a breath. “Janet, across the street, Pauline’s friend, she just needs her help real quick.” I sense that if I bring any word of trouble to the table, they’ll escort me to the door.
Midge looks at me full on, his eyes simultaneously hungry and concerned. Finally, he jerks his head toward the lady who answered the door. She gives me a sharp look before exiting.
“Pauline will be right with you,” he says gruffly before returning to his game.
With the toe of my boot, I trace the lines between the tiles on the floor like a maze, trying to find a way out of feeling vulnerable and helpless.
I hear Pauline’s smoky voice from down the hall before she appears. She greets me with her arms opened wide. Even though we’ve only met a few times, a long embrace is her customary greeting.
As we exit the shady building, Pauline asks, “You still collecting those magazines?”
I nod.
“I’ll be sure to save some for you. Sometimes the girls leave them in the house.”
I hope I’m not still hanging around here by the time the next issue comes out.
I jaywalk through traffic, filling Pauline in on what happened. I worry Darren may have returned.
When Pauline pushes open the door to the building, my mother is where I left her, but with her eyes closed. At first, I fear she fainted, but she’s probably been up at least twenty-four hours, if not longer. Pauline, gentle as ever, strokes my mother’s leg to wake her up. For a vague instant, I picture Pauline tending babies or the elderly. She doesn’t belong in this harsh life.
“Pauline,” my mom says, brightening. “Hiya, JJ, how ya doin’?” she coos softly. “Been better.” “Well, come on,” Pauline says, wrapping her arms underneath my mother’s to help her up. “Where we going?” Pauline asks, but before my mother answers,
Pauline suggests, “How about the Constance House up on Riverside?” I get the sense she’s done this before. Constance House is a battered women’s shelter—a place I doubt will abide my mother’s lifestyle—and as such, I expect Janet to protest, but apparently Pauline’s caring manner is all the convincing she needs.
“Pearl, you have a towel or something? She can’t go in a cab like this. She needs shoes too.”
I run upstairs. Each step reminds me that Darren might be back any second. I grab a pair of flip-flops and look in the bathroom cabinet for a towel. There aren’t any clean, so I pull a worn pillowcase off the bed and race back down to meet them outside.
“Thatta girl. Thanks,” Pauline says as she helps my mother into the flip-flops. Janet’s eyes are nearly closed as she leans heavily against Pauline’s shoulder.
It’s times like these I’d also like to give myself over to Pauline’s capable hands, the hands of a mother, sister, caretaker. Instead, she hails a cab and hands me a twenty.
“Look after her, Pearl,” she says before I close the cab door. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but how can she expect a kid to look after a grown woman when neither one knows how to take care of herself?
The cab drops us off on a side street in front of an anonymous brick building. A woman with tight curls confidently helps us inside. I flash to a magazine clipping of my mother holding her hand up to the camera as she emerged from a limo, back when the Shrapnels were big. It was rock star glitz and glamour. Now it’s just grit.


Author Bio:
During her teens, Deirdre Riordan Hall traveled throughout the United States and Europe, developing a love for stories and a desire to connect with worlds—imagined or real—on the page. She has written Sugar, To the Sea, Surfaced, and the Follow Your Bliss series. When not spending time with her family, writing, or traveling, Hall is at the beach, pretending to be a mermaid.

GIVEAWAY!
Skyscape is giving away 3 print copies of PEARL by Deirdre Riordan Hall!
ENTER HERE for your chance to win!

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Thursday, February 25, 2016

EDGE { blitz } a young adult/new adult paranormal collection


EDGE: A Young Adult/New Adult Paranormal Collection
Publication date: April 5th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Young Adult
Limited Edition Paranormal Boxed Set
20 New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors.
20 of today’s most magical, sought-after titles.
Yours for only $0.99.
Twenty Edgy Young Adult & New Adult Paranormal Tales
Twenty of today’s favorite young adult and new adult authors have come together to bring you a collection packed with full-length, spellbinding reads sure to keep you keep you on the edge of your seat and up way past your bedtime!
But reader beware: These novels take everything to the edge–and not just the edge of your seat. With authors who aren’t afraid to push the boundaries, you get stories that take everything to limit, creating whimsical reads that teens can actually relate to and that adults can enjoy, too.
Save over $50! This set is only available at this price for a limited time, so scroll up and grab your copy before it’s gone!
PRE-ORDER today for only 99¢!
Sneak a peek at a couple of books in this collection:
Pretty Little Wherewolf
“Whatever, Di. Help if you must, but don’t baby me.”
If Di heard her, she didn’t respond. Not that Giselle needed verbal confirmation; she turned back around and slammed her locker shut without looking, and then stumbled straight into something… someone… hard.
“Oh, sorry,” Giselle mumbled, trying to steady herself. She hadn’t caught the scent until after she looked up and saw who she’d almost knocked down – or, well, collided with. She couldn’t have knocked him down if she’d tried.
Hello, Boy!
He was magnificent. Was every guy in this school a male model? Towering over her at well above six foot, with muscles that went on for days, he was built like a statue with a hard jaw and stone-cold eyes to match. Though his looks were definitely worth paying attention to, it was his smell that had her standing dumbfounded. In all the years since she’d first experienced the change, she had never run into anyone like her. Now, standing here right in front of her was yet another wolf. She’d thought the lingering scent of wet earth might have been left in Di’s wake, but the longer he stood here, looking down at her, the stronger the smell got.
“Do you have a problem?” he asked with a voice that complemented that spectacular body of his. Smooth and deep. Seriously… what a package. Her wolf was definitely at attention and begging for a second to come to the surface for a closer inspection. It was all she could do not to wolf out right there in the hallway, with all the students around to see. Yeah. That would make for a great first impression.
Hiya, everyone… I’m the new girl, and… oh, yeah, and I’m a wolf, too. She might as well tape an old “Kick me” sign on her back; it would be less conspicuous.
While she was practically drooling where she stood, the strange boy, wolf, man –whatever he was – looked positively murderous. “Are you going to stand here all day, or can I get to my locker?”
So much for making a good first impression on him. “Sorry.” Giselle cleared her throat, wanting to say something smart, but for once, she didn’t have the words. She sidestepped sheepishly, and enjoyed the back view of him as he brushed past her to his own locker.
Damn. Nice butt.
Her wolf agreed, too. Wonder what his wolf looks like. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours! She couldn’t help but stare. How often did she run into other wolves? Male wolves.
Other Side of Forever
“Allie, why do you hate me so much?” he asked softly as he stared into the sky.
His question took me by surprise. Did he really think that?
“I…I don’t hate you, Ethan.” I stumbled over my words. “I barely know you.”
“Then why do you try so hard to avoid me?”
“I don’t,” I lied, knowing that I did, but not in a mean type of way. I closed my eyes and sighed, wishing he didn’t have to ask so many questions. Couldn’t he just go back to saying nothing at all?
“You do,” he argued. I could hear the change in his voice. He was smiling.
“No. I don’t,” I answered sarcastically. His persistence was pinching my nerves.
“Then look at me,” he challenged.
Without thinking, I turned my head and looked at him. His warm, sweet breath blew against my face as he exhaled. The scent of peppermint. His dark eyes snatched me up and whisked me away. I was lost and unprepared as he drew me deeper and deeper inside him. The walls he created around me were getting higher and harder to climb. Like I had slipped into a trench and I was sinking into the earth.
Ethan pressed forward, attempting to close the gap between us. His lips were so close to mine I could feel the heat emanating from them. And just as our lips were about to brush, the voice in my head begged and pleaded and screamed for me to stop.
Then I turned away.


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Tuesday, February 23, 2016

DEEP { blitz } by Skye Warren


Deep
Skye Warren
(Chicago Underground, #7)
Publication date: February 23rd 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance
Dark. Powerful. Dangerous.
Philip Mason has all of Chicago under his thumb. Except me.
We met in a perfect storm of violence and lust. He saved me and then disappeared from my life. Now I pretend I never knew that kind of darkness. I focus on midterms and campus parties, as if they can wipe the slate clean.
Then he turns up outside my dorm room—wounded and barely conscious. He’s the head of a crime syndicate, a powerful man, but he needs me now. There are traitors in his midst.
I can help him, but I can’t fall for him.
Not again.
Deep-Teaser-v4
EXCERPT:
It was dark outside, grown late, and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Somewhere out there, Philip was probably dining with crystal and expensive wine. Meanwhile I’d probably order a pizza with one of those coupons by the door.
A low sound raised the hair on my neck.
Oh God, I’m not alone.
My gaze swept over the small dorm room. From here I could see the tiny bedroom area and the kitchenette. I could see almost the entire space. Empty.
Maybe it was just one of my neighbors getting busy and—
The sound came again, louder. A shiver ran through me. It was coming from outside the room, but not from either side. It was coming from the door.
I crept over and looked out the peephole. An empty hallway bulged in the distorted lens.
Now I was doubting myself. Had I actually heard something? Maybe it had come from the dorm room across the hall. When I first moved here, it had been shortly after my “ordeal,” as my adoptive mother called it. I had jumped at every sound, both real and imagined, more traumatized by my brush with danger than I’d wanted to admit.
My gaze snapped to my phone.
I could call my adoptive mother right now, but I knew she wouldn’t want to be bothered. I could call the building management, but I knew what would happen. The same thing that had happened last time I called them. They’d send my floor advisor to check on me. If there was anything scary in this hallway, she’d have to face it first.
And if there wasn’t anything scary, if it was my imagination again, the PTSD I didn’t want to acknowledge, well then everyone would know how fucked up I was inside.
No, I had to be overreacting. This was nothing. There was no one in the hallway. And even if there was, it would be some drunk guy, passed out on the wrong floor.
I’m a normal college student, I reminded myself. I’m not afraid of anything.
Both of those things were lies, I was neither normal nor brave, but at least I could send a drunk frat boy on his way.
I opened the door a crack. Nothing.
Relief filled me, and I opened the door wider.
A body slid inside, slumped over without the door to support him. A short scream escaped me before I caught myself.
He was wearing a three-piece suit stained with blood, his expression slack, eyes glassy with pain and delirium. Philip.
Oh God, he was hurt. Really badly hurt if he couldn’t stand up. Horribly hurt if he’d ever have come to me of all people. I didn’t have time to process the shock of it, of seeing him again. I had to get him out of sight. If he’d been injured like this, someone was after him. Someone would want to finish the job.
Deep-Teaser-v1


Author Bio:
Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of dark romance. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely tender.



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BRYCE { blitz } by Natalie Decker


Bryce
Natalie Decker
(Scandalous Boys #1)
Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: February 23rd 2016
Genres: Romance, Young Adult
Bryce Matthews doesn’t do the whole nice boyfriend thing. Chocolates and flowers—girls can forget all that. And he certainly doesn’t care about the gossip and rumors that follow him at school and around town. If anything, the talk amuses him. Bryce isn’t lacking in confidence. He knows himself and he knows his limits.
One of those hard limits is Madison Issac. Bryce can never have her, and he’s perfectly fine with that. Sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality anyway.
Madison Issac thought she was a pretty good judge of character. But she’s surprised at how gentle and comforting resident bad-boy and next-door neighbor Bryce Matthews is when we finds her crying in the park.
Maybe there’s more to Bryce than people think? So Madison begins to wonder.
Can a guy like Bryce ever change his ways?
Can a girl like Madison really be into a guy like Bryce?
With hearts and reputations on the line, this kind of love can be scandalous.
EXCERPT:
A yellow cab pulls up to our home, and Kyle walks out to greet the driver. My parents are hugging the little blond, blue-eyed monster. I stare from my window for a second or two, and then I turn my attention to my room. My queen bed is disassembled and up in the attic. Before me now, a twin bunk bed. The brat is going to want the top, and of course I’ll have to oblige because she’s going through a rough time.
What about me? What about my rough time? This girl tortures me. She takes and takes and has never once given back. If you ask me, all that’s happening to her? It’s called justice. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. Maybe she’s changed some since she lost her big house with the pool, her rich friends, and her glamorous lifestyle. Maybe she’s a little kinder.
Sucking in a breath and feeling a little guilty for being a snot, I go downstairs and greet Sarah. She enters the house as I reach the bottom step of the stairs. Dark shades mask her eyes, and they match her black sun hat and her black dress. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was dressed for a funeral.
“Hi, Sarah.”
She moves her shades down her nose a little and sneers at me. “I see you haven’t changed much, Madison. Didn’t like the highlights?”
She knows I didn’t like them. The evil troll! At Easter, she said she wanted to do my hair. I thought she was being nice. She said we could make it pretty, and I agreed. Stupid me. She said red tints would give my dark brown hair a summery glow. She didn’t put red tints in. She made my hair pink. She claimed she picked up the wrong box. I had to go to school with bubblegum-pink highlights in my hair for almost a week before someone could fix it. A hundred and fifty dollars down the tube.
I smile. “Guess it wasn’t really my thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, being cool never has been.”
I knew it! I knew the evil monster did it on purpose. She mocks my clothes, says I dress like a hobo, and all that stuff. My clothes are nice; sure, I didn’t spend $200 for any summer dresses in my closet, but who cares? I’m certainly not going to spend $800 on a stupid purse. Um, hell to the no!
But my cousin has—excuse me, had—over $2,000 to spend per week. I barely have $200 in my bank account. Working five to twelve hours a week for eight bucks an hour is nothing to brag about.
“Where’s my room?” She shoves her sunglasses up her nose and makes her way to the stairs.
“You’re sharing with me. Come on.” I head up to my room, not waiting for her.
She gasps. “Sharing? I’m … Never mind. Apparently, that will have to do. We’ll just redecorate your room.”
I stop and turn on the last step to look back at her. “What do you mean ‘redecorate’?”
“Maddy,” my mom bites out as she follows us up the stairs. “Change can be a good thing.” She walks past me and mumbles, “Remember what the therapist said.”
That quack told us we had to make sure we didn’t try to force Little Miss Unwanted Guest to conform to our ways. He said we should try to appease her as much as possible and ease her into the change. But right now, I wish she was on a boat to China or some other faraway place.
Gritting my teeth, I say, “You know what? My room could probably use a makeover.”
Sarah smiles and enters my room. She looks around, instantly frowning. “I’m getting top bunk.” My mom carries in a few boxes, and Sarah smiles at her. “Thanks, Auntie Heather. Where are the boxes I had shipped here?”
“Oh, I’ll have the guys carry them in.” My mom hugs Sarah. “I know this is a hard time for you, but we’re glad you’re here.”
Pffft! She might be glad, but I’m not, so she can drop the whole “we” business.
As soon as my mom leaves, Sarah removes her sunglasses and hat. She looks around the room and shakes her head. “Well, it’s clear you’re in need of some decorating tips, that’s for sure.” She runs her hands over the matching comforters my mom bought for the bunk beds and laughs. “Seriously, this floral motif is so out.”
I nod like I care. I really don’t. It’s a blanket. It keeps me warm. That’s all that matters. I’m not the homeless one. She is. I’m not the one with parents going to jail. She is. But, hey, maybe this is her way of coping with all that, so I will bite my tongue and not say a word.
“Maddy! Graham and Bryce are here!” my mom calls to me.
I instantly smile, feeling better. My heart is humming to see Graham. As if in another world, I leave my cousin and race down to the two boys. I’m not really keen on Bryce, but that’s because my whole life, he’s been in and out of juvie more times than I can count. He’s a bad boy with a temper. I don’t know why Graham is friends with him.
Graham smiles before I reach the bottom step. “Hey, Maddy! We were … oh, um … Hi.” His attention goes from me to the stairs. I look back and see Sarah. I turn back to Graham and realize he’s looking at her as if she’s the whole moon and stars.


Author Bio:
Natalie Decker is the author of RIVAL LOVE series. She loves oceans, sunsets, sand between her toes, and carefree days. Her imagination is always going, which some find odd. But she believes in seeing the world in a different light at all times. Her first passion for writing started at age twelve when she had to write a poem for English class. However, seventh grade wasn't her favorite time and books were her source of comfort. She took all college prep classes in High school, and attended the University of Akron. Although she studied Mathematics she never lost her passion for writing or her comfort in books. She's a mean cook in the kitchen, loves her family and friends and her awesome dog infinity times infinity. If she's not writing, reading, traveling, hanging out with her family and friends, then she's off having an adventure. Because Natalie believes in a saying: Your life is your own journey, so make it amazing!

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Sunday, February 21, 2016

EVERLASTING { blitz } by L.K. Kuhl


Everlasting
L.K. Kuhl
(Everlasting Trilogy #1)
Published by: Clean Reads Publishing
Publication date: February 18th 2016
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult
Seventeen-year-old Sophia Bandell is scared of boys, and her biggest fear is dying. Boys make her uncomfortable and itchy and dying is …well …dying. She is ecstatic when her long lost friend calls her, inviting her to spend the summer with her on the beach at Charleston, South Carolina.
When a plastic saucer hits her in the head as she’s sunbathing, Sophia has no idea it will forever change the course of her life. It is there she comes face to face with the impressive Tate Forester.
She is scared and …itchy, but he’s gorgeous and she can’t shake him from her mind. They begin dating and Sophia soon knows he’s the one.
But things turn dark when she learns Tate isn’t the person she thinks he is, and the real reason her friend has brought her to the beach will teach her about life after death.
This everlasting summer on the beach gives Sophia a sweet taste of first love—the happiness as well as the heartbreak.
EXCERPT:
We stood there and looked around, an awkward silence playing between us. Then he stepped closer and took my hand in his, sending a bolt of staggering electricity zipping through my chest. “Her hand fits perfectly in mine.” He whispered this, as if confirming it with someone. His gaze locked on it, analyzing, then with a shake of his head, he spoke louder. “Sophia, I’m sorry. I …I lied to you.”
I looked at him—bewilderment crinkling my face—and tried to understand. “Lied?” My voice broke. “I don’t get it.”
“I wasn’t sick that day. Well, in a way I was, I guess. The truth is, I was gut-sick. That guy …he was sitting by you the whole day …and …and he never left your side. I’d check throughout the day, but he was still there. I couldn’t help it. I was insanely jealous.” He looked down, his tone deepening as he flexed his fingers that were still laced through mine.
“What?” His words astounded me. I swiped my brow with my free hand. “You were jealous …of me?”
He released my hand and paced back and forth, the nervousness seeping through as he wrung his hands. “I know it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help myself. I love the way you laugh and …I like you, Sophia …a lot, and it hurt me to see you with someone else.”
He lifted his hair off his forehead, pushing it up. His eyes locked on mine again, captivating me. I couldn’t look away. My self-consciousness took over—heckling me. The way I looked right now—with my hair a matted mess from the mist, and no makeup on—must look ridiculous. I drew away, making myself smaller.
I laughed my nervous laugh and kicked the sand with my shoe. “Who, him? You mean …Brian?” My words wobbled, but I giggled, unable to believe that Brian talking to me could make anyone jealous.


Author Bio:
L.K. Kuhl lives in Nebraska with her husband Gene of twenty-nine years, young son, Nathan, and Greg, their Black Lab dog. She has two older daughters, Morgan and Brittani and son-in-law, Trevor. L.K. has been writing for over twenty years. She first began writing children’s books and poetry, moved on to writing music, and is now writing Young Adult and Adult novels. She loves spending time with her family, vacationing, writing, reading, and taking long walks. It’s the characters who write their own stories in her novels, and she is just their messenger, sharing it with the world.

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Monday, February 15, 2016

ABANDONED { blitz } by Elisa Dane


Abandoned
Elisa Dane
Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: February 15th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
My name is Tierra Owens, and I like to kiss. A lot. It numbs the hollow ache in my chest and—for a few minutes—makes me forget how truly alone I am. My mother is an alcoholic. She hates me and insists I’m the reason she’s not married to my father, whom I have never met. My best friend, Kaylee, is the only person who knows the real me. Everyone else sees what I want them to: a happy, confident, popular girl who has the world at her feet.
I am a fraud.
Relationships are forbidden. I avoid them at all costs. Sex? Emotions? Those things make a person vulnerable, and vulnerability always leads to heartbreak. When my childhood crush, Mattie shows up at school my world tumbles off its axis. The shell I surround myself with feels more like a pathetic crutch than a protective barrier, and I find myself wanting things. Daydreaming about what it would be like to have a boyfriend, a relationship—love.
The sad fact is: I’ll never have any of those things. I am unworthy—trash. Which is why my mom abandoned me.
READ CHAPTER ONE:
Kissing: You’re either good at it, or you suck. Zachary Harris sucked at kissing. Actually, it wasn’t so much that he sucked. It was more like he slobbered. All over my chin. My neck. My ears. My skin felt like flypaper—sticky and gross.
Then, of course, there was the issue of the very prominent bulge grinding furiously against my hip. With a groan, Dirk Diggler in disguise muttered a low “fuck” and licked a gooey trail across my collarbone. “God, you smell good. I want to lick you all over and make you scream.” Captain Slobber was, indeed, on a fast track to making me scream, but not in the way he intended. I didn’t care how popular he was—if I had to endure another second of his gross, reptilian tongue slithering over my flesh I’d vomit. All over him. It was a damn good thing kissing can be taught. This guy needed a crash course, stat.
Calloused fingers trailed a back-and-forth pattern between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans. My skin tingled from the soft caress and I dug my fingers into his hair, desperate to feel close, needing the contact, and ashamed of myself for getting it this way. When his fingers began fiddling with the button on my jeans, I shut him down.
“That right there is a no-parking zone, baby.” I slid my hand from his arm to his shoulder and shoved. “You need to slow down.”
A pair of dark eyebrows slashed over a set of brilliant blue eyes, the skin between them creasing in confusion. “Slow down? But we were just getting started.” He sat back on his hip, his gaze falling to my bed, then to my half-unbuttoned shirt. The right side of his mouth curled up into a wolfish grin. “I thought this was what you wanted. I mean … you did bring me into your bedroom. I thought you were hot for some action.”
Heat prickled across my skin like wildfire. I was hot, all right. Just not for him. The sooner he realized that, the better.
No guy got past second base with me. Ever. The stupid craving I had to feel close to another person was just that: stupid. Sex, emotions … They make you vulnerable. And vulnerable got you hurt.
I ran my fingers over the small pearl that hung from the gold chain around my neck, the tiny bead smooth and cool against my skin. I’d been foolish enough to love someone once, and the devastation I felt when he walked out of my life was more than I could bear. I wasn’t about to share that with Zach.
Kissing, though, I liked. A lot. It curbed the lonely ache I carried in my chest and took away the sting. And if the guy was cute, well … I might be persuaded, on occasion, to allow a bit of groping, here and there. But that’s where the fun ended. I might be the daughter of the town slut, but I was no whore.
I scooted back against my headboard with a sigh and grabbed a nearby throw pillow, hugging it tight. What I really needed was a towel to wipe the Saliva King’s spit from my neck and chest. Mopping up with a decorative pillow was less than efficient, and more than a little gross. In fact, there was a good chance I’d end up throwing the thing away when all was said and done.
“Look,” I said, trying my best to be inconspicuous as I blotted my skin with the fluffy, pink square. “I’m gonna give you the same speech I share with all my guy friends. I—”
Zach held his hands up. “Hold on a sec.” He flashed me an impish grin. “Let me just get … comfortable.” Smooth skin stretched over taut muscle, the deep grooves in his arms bunching as he pulled himself to the far side of the bed, resting his back against the wall.
I bit down on the inside of my lip as I watched him settle in and found myself wishing he didn’t kiss like a St. Bernard. With his sandy blond hair, sapphire eyes, and bone structure that reminded me of Channing Tatum, he was impossibly easy on the eyes and the true definition of what my mother referred to as “man candy.”
Sitting casually with his arm resting on one bent knee, he raised a brow and signaled for me to continue. Amusement flickered behind his eyes.
Jackass.
I found his attitude both ballsy and irritating. Half of me applauded his confidence. The other half wanted to jam my foot against the giant tent decorating the front of his pants.
“I don’t do relationships, and I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Graduation is just around the corner and I don’t plan on sticking around after. So, if you wanna hang out every once in a while and mess around a little, I’m your girl. If you’re looking for something serious, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I won’t chase you around and beg you to spend time with me, and I won’t have sex with you.”
Zach’s eyes flashed wide, and I could see the wheels turning inside his head as he mentally worked through what I told him. “So, no actual sex?”
I shook my head.
“But you’ll let me kiss you and stuff, and you won’t follow me around at school the next day and expect me to pay attention to you?”
I plastered a fake smile across my face and nodded. Clearly, Zach was all brawn and no brain. Somewhere, out in the farthest corner of nowhere, a village was missing its idiot. “Way to go, Einstein. You catch on fast.”
He swiped a thumb across his lips and sucked in a slow breath through his nose. “Is this the same arrangement you had with Tommy Silva?”
My reaction happened so quickly I was fairly positive he didn’t notice, but at the mention of Tommy’s name, I stiffened. Douche Nozzle.
Much like Zach, Tommy was a pretty boy. Captain of the varsity swim team, he was tall, lean, cut like a statue, and manscaped to within an inch of his life. Smooth. The boy was smooth as a baby’s butt, and I harbored an almost sick fascination with his tan, satiny skin. We hung out off and on for a good four months until he decided what I had to offer wasn’t enough. He tried, and might I add, failed, to put his hands down my pants. I, on the other hand, did not fail when I took a swing at him. My righteous fist met his chiseled nose with uncanny accuracy, resulting in a loud crack, loss of blood (on his part), and a string of curse words, half of which I’d never heard before.
I told Tommy to get lost.
Tommy told everyone I chromed his dome.
Asswipe.
Lips pursed, I raised a brow. “Tommy wanted more than I was willing to give, so I ended it with him.”
Zach barked out a single laugh and shook his head. “According to Tommy, you were very willing, and you gave a lot.” He lifted his hand from his knee and thrust a finger at me. “He said he dumped you.”
It was clear Zach was trying to get a reaction out of me. He’d failed miserably. I didn’t play into the normal teenage “He said this about you, what are you gonna do about it?” bullshit. Mostly because I just didn’t care. I valued one person’s opinion: my best friend, Kaylee. Everyone else could suck it, as far as I was concerned.
Come June, Kaylee and I were gone. Valencia Hills and everyone in it—including my mother—would be nothing but a distant memory.
“Believe what you want,” I said with a shrug. “If you want to hang with me, you know the rules. If you want to stay, great.” I tossed aside the pillow and started doing up the buttons on my chambray top. “If not, you know the way out.”
Zach shot forward and grabbed hold of my wrist. “I want.” He paused for a brief moment, then grinned up at me like he knew something I didn’t. “I’ll get you to want more too. Just you wait and see.”
My lips curled up into a smile. Boys were so predictable. I’d yet to have one turn down my offer. Captain Saliva and I would hang out until he asked for more than I would give, and then we would be over. Assuming, that is, that I was able to do something about his drool problem. As far as me wanting more from him? Nope. Wasn’t gonna happen.
I leaned forward, fully intent on schooling him in the fine art of tongue kissing when the slow, rumbling whir of the garage door opening caught my attention. “Dammit.” Heart pounding, I shot to my feet, grabbed hold of Zach’s wrist and yanked. “My mom’s home early. You have to leave. Like, now.”
Zach stared at me like I’d sprouted another head and frowned. “What’s the big deal, Tierra? It’s not like we were doing anything. We’re fully fucking clothed.” He rolled his broad shoulders and tugged at the hem of his black T-shirt. “We’re cool.” He waggled his eyebrows. “All parents love me.”
Whether there was any truth to that statement or not, I didn’t care. Being caught alone in my bedroom with Zach wasn’t the problem. My mother didn’t give two craps about what I did, or who I did it with. No. I didn’t want Zach to meet my mother.
Desperate to get him gone, I tugged him over to my window, got behind him, and pushed. “Out!”
Zach’s expression morphed from one of surprise to outright irritation. “You have got to be kidding me. You want me to take a dive out your window?”
I shoved past him, released the lock, and slid the aging glass pane sideways. “Damn straight, Skippy. It’s time to channel your inner Olympian. Tuck and roll.”
My mom’s voice sounded from the other side of the house. “I’m not going to change my mind. We’re through!”
My shoulders fell. Crap. Another break-up. Zach needed to leave. Things were about to get ugly, and there was no way in hell I’d let anyone witness the shameful reality that was my home life. My mother hated me, blamed me for her so-called crappy life, and made it a point to tell me what a burden I was every stinking day.
I could deal with her hatred. No one but me knew about it. But her addiction to booze and sleazy men? That wasn’t so easy to hide. I’d worked hard to shroud the truth about my home life over the past few years, and I wasn’t about to let my saliva challenged friend jack things up by hanging around for my mother’s latest breakdown.
Zach continued to gape at me, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. My earlier assessment of village idiot was apparently spot on.
“Why are you just standing there?” I placed one hand on the middle of his back, grabbed the waistband of his jeans with the other, and shoved him toward the window. “Move!”
“Fucking hell! All right,” he snapped before launching himself through the small space. A loud rustling noise echoed from outside, followed by a labored groan and a few choice curses. “Goddamned bushes!” He shot up, face twisted in a combination of pain and irritation, and pegged me with a hard stare. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful, T.” He jabbed a finger toward the ground. “Cuz this shit hurts!”
The sound of glass breaking echoed from the opposite side of the house.
I placed a shaky hand on the wall near the window and swiped the other across the front of my jeans, thankful my anxiety transferred to my hands and not my forehead. The old saying “Never let them see you sweat” had become somewhat of a mantra for me. On the inside, I was terrified, mostly of what might be happening on the opposite side of my bedroom door. Of people finding out the mask I’d presented to them was a total sham.
But on the outside?
On the outside, I was the smiling picture of cool perfection.
In keeping with my charade, I rolled my eyes at Zach and thrust a hand toward the street. “Leave! Before we’re caught!”
Zach gave a nod and held up his hand. “You’ll meet me at Dallas’s later?”
Crash!
My pulse skyrocketed as the commotion grew closer to my bedroom door. “Yes! I’ll see you in a little bit. Now go!”
The combination of moonlight and the yellow glow floating between the houses from the street lamp a few yards away cast an eerie glow across Zach’s toothy grin, likening him to the Joker. He pressed two fingers to his lips and took off with a spring in his step that told me I had, at the very least, a couple month’s worth of meaningless make-out sessions with him before he’d screw up.
Crash!
Thud!
“Angelo! S-stop … Please!”
Molars grinding together, heart ping-ponging against my ribs, I turned away from the window, crouched down beside my bed, and pulled out my own makeshift version of Professor Plum’s lead pipe.
The dented, secondhand metal bat felt cool against my skin as I stalked toward my bedroom door, frightened, yet resolute in kicking some loser’s ass had the slimeball hurt my mom. The woman might hate my guts, but dammit, she was my mom, and I wouldn’t abandon her in her time of need.
Oh yeah. Tierra Elizabeth Owens was totally going to down her mom’s ex-boyfriend, in the living room, with the lead pipe. Take that, Colonel Mustard.


Author Bio:
ELISA DANE is a self-proclaimed book junkie. A lover of handbags, chocolate, and reality television, she's a proud mother to three All- Star cheerleaders. Writing is her absolute passion, and it's her mission to create stories that will not only take you on a romantic journey that will warm your heart, but help you find a new respect and interest in the sport of All-Star cheerleading.
Elisa is no stranger to the publishing world. She writes steamy paranormal romance under her real name, Lisa Sanchez. Her adult works include the Hanford Park series (Eve Of Samhain, Pleasures Untold, and Faythe Reclaimed), Obsessed (an erotic suspense), and a paranormal novella, Cursing Athena. Elisa lives in Northern California with her husband, three daughters, and a feisty Chihuahua who stubbornly believes she's human.

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Friday, February 5, 2016

book blitz || BANISHED by Kimberley Griffiths Little


Banished
Kimberley Griffiths Little
(Forbidden #2)
Published by: HarperCollins
Publication date: February 2nd 2016
Genres: Historical, Romance, Young Adult
She thought she’d lost everything . . .
After spending months traveling the harsh, unforgiving Mesopotamian desert, Jayden reunites with a broken, injured Kadesh. Although everyone was convinced the violent and unpredictable Horeb, Jayden’s betrothed, killed the handsome prince, Jayden knew in her heart that her love was alive and safe. But their reunion is short-lived, as they learn Horeb is on their trail and determined to take back the girl he has claimed. Soon, the two star-crossed lovers are on the run toward Sariba, Kadesh’s homeland, where, as heir to the Kingdom, he plans to make Jayden his princess.
But the trek to Sariba is fraught with heartache and danger. After narrowly escaping being stoned to death for a crime she didn’t commit, and learning that her sister has disappeared, Jayden’s only solace is her love for Kadesh. But even he is keeping secrets from her . . . secrets that will change everything.
This gorgeous and enchanting sequel to Forbidden, is full of love, danger, and heated passion that will leave readers breathless.
Sequel to:
18889290
Booklist Review:
“This sequel to Forbidden (2014) picks up with desert girl Jayden, distraught that the young man she loves, Kadesh, might have died. But, of course, he hasn’t. Scarred and missing an eye, yes, but he’s escaped the clutches of Horeb, Jayden’s malicious betrothed. Traveling bravely through the desert, Jayden finds him. But that perilous trip is only the first of the dangers to come. Gathering an army, Kadesh is determined to return to his faraway home, where the valuable frankincense grows, and introduce Jayden as his future bride. First, however, they must face betrayal, danger, and a waiting evil. Jayden achieves almost superhero status here, moving from adventure to adventure—not even a near-death stoning can stop her. Little’s descriptions of the landscape are evocative in both desolation and in beauty. Just as good is her pacing, which gets the blood pumping for both characters and readers. Far more than a bridge book, this will heighten anticipation for a no-doubt exciting conclusion.
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EXCERPT:
A dirty, callused hand slapped down over my mouth and the stale breath of a man hissed in my ear. “Don’t move or I’ll slit your pretty, little neck.”
I clawed at the stranger’s cloak, trying to push him off, but he was too heavy. A moment later, I realized my ankles were tied together. I couldn’t run, couldn’t even move. Shrieks gurgled in my throat as if I was drowning, his hand cutting off my air.
Only one day into my journey to find Kadesh and I was already dead.
The sharp tip of a blade pressed against my neck, and I whimpered.
“Give me the frankincense of the stranger we killed.” The man’s foul breath dragged across my face. He was referring to Kadesh, the boy I loved, who’d been murdered by Horeb, the prince of my tribe.
With myself as a witness, I’d watched Horeb plunge his sword into Kadesh and then order his soldiers to drag his body off.
Shock flooded me when I realized who my attacker was. I wrenched his fingers away from my mouth and with a raw voice, said, “Gad? What are you doing lurking about the cliffs of Mari?”
This man was a childhood friend of Horeb’s and one of my own tribesmen. His body pressed against mine, and I writhed in disgust.
There was only one reason Gad was in the foothills of Mari, far from the oasis of Tadmur where my tribe camped for the summer. He was a member of Horeb’s army.
Horeb, my betrothed. The man who’d attacked and scarred me. Blackmailed me for the murder of his father to hide the fact that he’d killed his own father so he could steal the tribal crown.
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Author Bio:
When I was a kid I read a book a day, scribbled stories, and dreamed about having my very own book on the library shelf. I grew up in San Francisco, but now live in an adobe house on the banks of the Rio Grande with my husband and sons. I think I've drunk so much Land of Enchantment water that some of that ancient magic got into my blood and now spurts out my pencil--I mean ergonomic keyboard. I adore anything old and musty with a secret story to tell.
I'm the author of 10 award-winning middle-grade and Young Adult novels with Scholastic and Harpercollins and I make way too many cookies when I'm writing - and I've got the best book trailers in the universe - for reals! Check them out here: www.kimberleygriffithslittle.com. Please find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Youtube.
Awards: Southwest Book Award, Whitney Award for Best Youth Novel, Whitney Award Finalist and Association of Mormon Letters of Art Award, Bank Street College Best Books of 2011, 2013, and 2015, a Crystal Kite Finalist, and New Mexico Book Award Finalist.

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