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BLIND LOVE COWBOYS AND ANGELS SERIES Book 5 By Kelly Elliott Release Day – July 24th Harley and I had our whole lives planned out, until her plans changed, and those plans didn't include me. After years spent trying to get the love of my life out of my head and repair my too-damaged heart, I thought I was finally moving on…but life sure has a funny way of letting you know when those best-laid plans are about to be turned upside down. My entire world was rocked when Harley unexpectedly moved back to Oak Springs. Every miserable moment I'd spent trying to get over her and every hour I'd wasted trying to erase her from my life came back to haunt me the minute she walked into my office, fear in her eyes, and asked me for help. Would I…or better yet, could I walk away from her this time after all that she had put me through? What I really needed to know is would I be able to forge ahead with the future I had so meticulously planned—one that didn't include Harley—or will her return finally open my eyes to a future full of endless possibilities? Blind Love is book five in the Cowboys and Angels series. iBooks - https://goo.gl/ip1j6w Amazon – https://amzn.to/2GCrWU5 B&N - https://goo.gl/ixzNWv Kobo - https://goo.gl/3oKfGQ Goodreads - https://goo.gl/oXF7cR ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kelly Elliott is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling contemporary romance author. Since finishing her bestselling Wanted series, Kelly continues to spread her wings while remaining true to her roots and giving readers stories rich with hot protective men, strong women and beautiful surroundings. Her bestselling works include, Wanted, Broken, Without You, and Unconditional Love, to name just a few. Kelly has been passionate about writing since she was fifteen. After years of filling journals with stories, she finally followed her dream and published her first novel, Wanted, in November of 2012. Kelly lives in central Texas with her husband, daughter, and two pups. When she’s not writing, Kelly enjoys reading and spending time with her family. She is down to earth and very in touch with her readers, both on social media and at signings. To find out more about Kelly and her books, you can find her through her website.
Title: The Parts I Remember
Author: A.B. Wood
Genre: Second Chance Romance
Release Date: May 18, 2018 Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Kathy Reader - “I have read thousands of books, and this is definitely one of the top books ever.” Teri - “A great cozy story with great characters.”
Having the one you love walk away from you, leaving you to wonder —to assume— that you’ve been used and that you mean nothing to them, is either:
*The hardest truth you will ever be forced to endure.
Or *The biggest lie you will ever tell yourself.
The answer, for me, waits on the other end of this incoming call; and I don’t even see it coming.
~ THE PARTS I REMEMBER ~
A. B. Wood 2017
"I picked up my glass of wine, walked into my bedroom and to the other side of the bed so I could look out of the window. Hoping to clear the euphoric fog from my head. Snow was on its way. I love snow, and I was as excited as a small child waiting for the first flake to fall. As I stood in the window, holding the curtains open with my right arm extended, he was suddenly behind me. His approach had been stealth-like, and by the time I was aware of his return, his arms were wrapped tightly around me, pulling me back against his chest. He pressed his left cheek to my right one; heaven. Feeling his warm breath on my skin, I couldn’t resist turning to face him, his embrace relenting only enough to allow me to turn. Then his mouth was on mine again. I gently pushed free, after only a moment, and motioned my intention to set my glass down on the bedside table. He gently held on to my free hand. As soon as I set it down I returned to him. I gave a gentle push towards the bed as our mouths once again found each other. So much for being good. He followed and holding me in one arm had gently supported my weight until our bodies met the mattress. He allowed himself to land beside me, on his side, and he immediately began to undo my clothing. He started with the button on my jeans, then slowly my zipper. Still providing very passionate kisses, he slid his hand under my panties and began to tenderly yet firmly touch me with only a finger."
A. B. Wood is a sassy southern girl with a love for people, food, music and laughter; and will never turn down a glass of wine or whiskey. Being an only child, raised by a single mom, and a wife and mother of two boys, she has experienced so many “ya can’t make this stuff up” moments in her life, it just made sense to start writing. Her favorite season is college football (GO HOGS) and her happy place is on any beach. When she’s not writing you can find her volunteering at her local high school. In her free time, she enjoys watching movies and historically based television series, reading and traveling. Her motto is, “Don’t miss out on living, ‘cause you’re afraid of dying.”
Fans of Sarah Dessen, Stephanie Perkins, and Jenny Han will delight as the fireworks spark and the secrets fly in this delicious summer romance from a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. When Jade decided to spend the summer with her aunt in California, she thought she knew what she was getting into. But nothing could have prepared her for Quentin. Jade hasn't been in suburbia long and even she knows her annoying (and annoyingly cute) next-door neighbor spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E. And when Quentin learns Jade plans to spend her first American summer hiding out reading books, he refuses to be ignored. Sneaking out, staying up, and even a midnight swim, Quentin is determined to give Jade days--and nights--worth remembering. But despite their storybook-perfect romance, every time Jade moves closer, Quentin pulls away. And when rumors of a jilted ex-girlfriend come to light, Jade knows Quentin is hiding a secret--and she's determined to find out what it is. Chapter 1 Anything was possible. At least that’s what it felt like. Summer seventeen was going to be one for the record books. I already knew it. I could feel it—from the nervous-excited swirl in my stomach to the buzz in the air around me. This was going to be the summer--my summer. “Last chance to cry uncle or forever hold your peace,” Mom sang beside me in the backseat of the cab we’d caught at the airport. Her hand managed to tighten around mine even more, cutting off the last bit of my circulation. If there was any left. I tried to look the precise amount of unsure before answering. “So long, last chance,” I said, waving out the window. Mom sighed, squeezing my hand harder still. It was starting to go numb now. Summer seventeen might find me one hand short if Mom didn’t ease up on the death grip. She and her band, the Shrinking Violets, were going to be touring internationally after finally hitting it big, but she was moping because this was the first summer we wouldn't be together. Actually, it would be the first time we’d been apart ever. I’d sold her on the idea of me staying in the States with her sister and family by going on about how badly I wanted to experience one summer as a normal, everyday American teenager before graduating from high school. One chance to see what it was like to stay in the same place, with the same people, before I left for college. One last chance to see what life as an American teen was really like. She bought it . . . eventually. She’d have her bandmates and tens of thousands of adoring fans to keep her company—she could do without me for a couple of months. I hoped. It had always been just Mom and me from day one. She had me when she was young—like young young—and even though her boyfriend pretty much bailed before the line turned pink, she’d done just fine on her own. We’d both kind of grown up together, and I knew she’d missed out on a lot by raising me. I wanted this to be a summer for the record books for her, too. One she could really live up, not having to worry about taking care of her teenage daughter. Plus, I wanted to give her a chance to experience what life without me would be like. Soon I’d be off to college somewhere, and I figured easing her into the empty-nester phase was a better approach than going cold turkey. “You packed sunscreen, right?” Mom’s bracelets jingled as she leaned to look out her window, staring at the bright blue sky like it was suspect. “SPF seventy for hot days, fifty for warm days, and thirty for overcast ones.” I toed the trusty duffel resting at my feet.It had traveled the globe with me for the past decade and had the wear to prove it. “That’s my fair-skinned girl.” When Mom looked over at me, the crease between her eyebrows carved deeper with worry. “You might want to check into SPF yourself. You’re not going to be in your mid thirties forever, you know?” Mom groaned. “Don’t remind me. But I’m already beyond SPF’s help at this point. Unless it can help fix a saggy butt and crow’s-feet.” She pinched invisible wrinkles and wiggled her butt against the seat. It was my turn to groan. It was annoying enough that people mistook us for sisters all the time, but it was worse that she could (and did) wear the same jeans as me. There should be some rule that moms aren’t allowed to takes clothes from the closets of their teenage daughters. When the cab turned down Providence Avenue, I felt a sudden streak of panic. Not for myself, but for my mom. Could she survive a summer when I wasn’t at her side, reminding her when the cell phone bill was due or updating her calendar so she knew where to be and when to be there? Would she be okay without me reminding her that fruits and vegetables were part of the food pyramid for a reason and making sure everything was all set backstage? “Hey.” Mom gave me a look, her eyes suggesting she could read my thoughts. “I’ll be okay. I’m a strong, empowered thirty-four-year-old woman.” “Cell phone charger.” I yanked the one dangling from her oversized, metal-studded purse, which I’d wrapped in hot pink tape so it stood out. “I’ve packed you two extras to get you through the summer. When you get down to your last one, make sure to pick up two more so you’re covered—” “Jade, please,” she interrupted. “I’ve only lost a few. It’s not like I’ve misplaced . . .” “Thirty-two phone chargers in the past five years?” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “I’ve got the receipts to prove it, too.” Her mouth clamped closed as the cab rolled up to my aunt’s house. “What am I going to do without you?” Mom swallowed, dropping her big black retro sunglasses over her eyes to hide the tears starting to form, to my surprise. I was better at keeping my emotions hidden, so I didn’t dig around in my purse for sunglasses. “Um, I don’t know? Maybe rock a sold-out international tour? Six continents in three months? Fifty concerts in ninety days? That kind of thing?” Mom started to smile. She loved music—writing it, listening to it, playing it—and was a true musician. She hadn’t gotten into it to become famous or make the Top 40 or anything like that; she’d done it because it was who she was. She was the same person playing to a dozen people in a crowded café as she was now, the lead singer of one of the biggest bands in the world playing to an arena of thousands. “Sounds pretty killer. All of those countries. All of that adventure.” Mom’s hand was on the door handle, but it looked more like she was trying to keep the taxi door closed than to open it. “Sure you don’t want to be a part of it?” I smiled thinly back at my mom, her wild brown hair spilling over giant glasses. She had this boundless sense of adventure—always had and always would—so it was hard for her to comprehend how her own offspring could feel any different. “Promise to call me every day and send me pictures?” I said, feeling the driver lingering outside my door with luggage in hand. This was it. Mom exhaled, lifting her pinkie toward me. “Promise.” I curled my pinkie around hers and forced a smile. “Love you, Mom.” Her finger wound around mine as tightly as she had clenched my other hand on the ride here. “Love you no matter what.” Then she shoved her door open and crawled out, but not before I noticed one tiny tear escape her sunglasses. By the time I’d stepped out of the cab, all signs of that tear or any others were gone. Mom did tears as often as she wrote moving love songs. In other words, never. As she dug around in her purse for her wallet to pay the driver, I took a minute to inspect the house in front of me. The last time we’d been here was for Thanksgiving three years ago. Or was it four? I couldn’t remember, but it was long enough to have forgotten how bright white my aunt and uncle’s house was, how the windows glowed from being so clean and the landscaping looked almost fake it was so well kept. It was pretty much the total opposite of the tour buses and extended-stay hotels I’d spent most of my life in. My mother, Meg Abbott, did not do tidy. “Back zipper pocket,” I said as she struggled to find the money in her wallet. “Aha,” she announced, freeing a few bills to hand to the driver, whose patience was wilting. After taking her luggage, she shouldered up beside me. “So the neat-freak thing gets worse with time.” Mom gaped at the walkway leading up to the cobalt-blue front door, where a Davenport nameplate sparkled in the sunlight. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say most of the surfaces I’d eaten off of weren’t as clean as the stretch of concrete in front of me. “Mom . . . ,” I warned, when she shuddered after she roamed to inspect the window boxes bursting with scarlet geraniums. “I’m not being mean,” she replied as we started down the walkway. “I’m appreciating my sister’s and my differences. That’s all.” Right then, the front door whisked open and my aunt seemed to float from it, a measured smile in place, not a single hair out of place. “Appreciating our differences,” Mom muttered under her breath as we moved closer. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the two sisters embraced. Mom had long dark hair and fell just under the average-height bar like me. Aunt Julie, conversely, had light hair she kept swishing above her shoulders, and she was tall and thin. Her eyes were almost as light blue as mine, compared to Mom’s, which were almost as dark as her hair. It wasn’t only their physical differences that set them apart; it was everything. From the way they dressed Mom in some shade of dark, whereas the darkest color I’d ever seen Aunt Julie wear was periwinkle—to their taste in food, Mom was on the spicy end of the spectrum and Aunt Julie was on the mild. Mom stared at Aunt Julie. Aunt Julie stared back at Mom. This went on for twenty-one seconds. I counted. The last stare-down four years ago had gone forty-nine. So this was progress. Finally, Aunt Julie folded her hands together, her rounded nails shining from a fresh manicure. “Hello, Jade. Hello, Megan.” Mom’s back went ramrod straight when Aunt Julie referred to her by her given name. Aunt Julie was eight years older but acted more like her mother than her sister. “How’s it hangin’, Jules?” Aunt Julie’s lips pursed hearing her little sister’s nickname for her. Then she stepped back and motioned inside. “Well?” That was my cue to pick up my luggage and follow after Mom, who was tromping up the front steps. “Are we done already? Really?” she asked, nudging Aunt Julie as she passed. “I’m taking the higher road,” Aunt Julie replied. “What you call taking the higher road I call getting soft in your old age.” Mom hustled through the door after that, like she was afraid Aunt Julie would kick her butt or something. The image of Aunt Julie kicking anything made me giggle to myself. “Jade.” Aunt Julie’s smile was of the real variety this time as she took my duffel from me. “You were a girl the last time we saw you, and look at you now. All grown up.” “Hey, Aunt Julie. Thanks again for letting me spend the summer with you guys,” I said, pausing beside her, not sure whether to hug her or keep moving. A moment of awkwardness passed before she made the decision for me by reaching out and patting my back. I continued on after that. Aunt Julie wasn’t cold or removed; she just showed her affection differently. But I knew she cared about me and my mom. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t pick up the phone on the first ring whenever we did call every few months. She also wouldn’t have immediately said yes when Mom asked her a few months ago if I could spend the summer here. “Let me show you to your room.” She pulled the door shut behind her and led us through the living room. “Paul and I had the guest room redone to make it more fitting for a teenage girl.” “Instead of an eighty-year-old nun who had a thing for quilts and angel figurines?” Mom said, biting at her chipped black nail polish. “I wouldn’t expect someone whose idea of a feng shui living space is kicking the dirty clothes under their bed to appreciate my sense of style,” Aunt Julie fired back, like she’d been anticipating Mom’s dig. I cut in before they could get into it. “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt Julie. The guest room exactly the way it was would have been great.” “Speaking of the saint also known as my brother-in-law, where is Paul?” Mom spun around, moving down the hall backward. “At work.” Aunt Julie stopped outside of a room. “He wanted to be here, but his job’s been crazy lately.” Aunt Julie snatched the porcelain angel Mom had picked up from the hall table. She carefully returned it to the exact same spot, adjusting it a hair after a moment’s consideration. “Where are the twins?” I asked, scanning the hallway for Hannah and Hailey. The last time I’d seen them, they were in preschool but acted like they were in grad school or something. They were nice kids, just kind of freakishly well behaved and brainy. “At Chinese camp,” Aunt Julie answered. “Getting to eat dim sum and make paper dragons?” Mom asked, sounding almost surprised. Aunt Julie sighed. “Learning the Chinese language.” Aunt Julie opened a door and motioned me inside. I’d barely set one foot into the room before my eyes almost crossed from what I found. Holy pink. Hot pink, light pink, glittery pink, Pepto-Bismol pink—every shade, texture, and variety of pink seemed to be represented inside this square of space. “What do you think?” Aunt Julie gushed, moving up beside me with a giant smile. “I love it,” I said, working up a smile. “It’s great. So great. And so . . . pink.” “I know, right?” Aunt Julie practically squealed. I didn’t know she was capable of anything close to that high-pitched. “We hired a designer and everything. I told her you were a girly seventeen-year-old and let her do the rest.” Glancing over at the full-length mirror framed in, you bet, fuchsia rhinestones, I wondered what about me led my aunt to classify me as “girly.” I shopped at vintage thrift stores, lived in faded denim and colors found in nature, not ones manufactured in the land of Oz. I was wearing sneakers, cut-offs, and a flowy olive-colored blouse, pretty much the other end of the spectrum. The last girly thing I’d done was wear makeup on Halloween. I was a zombie. Beside me, Mom was gaping at the room like she’d walked in on a crime scene. A gruesome crime scene. “What the . . . pink?” she edited after I dug an elbow into her. “You shouldn’t have.” I smiled at Aunt Julie when she turned toward me, still beaming. “Yeah, Jules. You really shouldn’t have.” Mom shook her head, flinching when she noticed the furry pink stool tucked beneath the vanity that was resting beneath a huge cotton-candy-pink chandelier. “It’s the first real bedroom this girl’s ever had. Of course I should have. I couldn’t not.” Aunt Julie moved toward the bed, fixing the smallest fold in the comforter. “Jade’s had plenty of bedrooms.” Mom nudged me, glancing at the window. She was giving me an out. She had no idea how much more it would take than a horrendously pink room for me to want to take it. “Oh, please. Harry Potter had a more suitable bedroom in that closet under the stairs than Jade’s ever had. You can’t consider something that either rolls down a highway or is bolted to a hotel floor an appropriate room for a young woman.” Aunt Julie wasn’t in dig mode; she was in honest mode. That put Mom in unleash-the-beast mode. Her face flashed red, but before she could spew whatever comeback she had stewing inside, I cut in front of her. “Aunt Julie, would you mind if Mom and I had a few minutes alone? You know, to say good-bye and everything?” As infrequently as we visited the house on Providence Avenue, I fell into my role of referee like it was second nature. “Of course not. We’ll have lots of time to catch up.” Aunt Julie gave me another pat on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “We’ll have all summer.” She’d just disappeared when her head popped back in the doorway. “Meg, can I get you anything to drink before you have to dash?” “Whiskey,” Mom answered intently. Aunt Julie chuckled like she’d made a joke, continuing down the hall. I dropped my duffel on the pink zebra-striped throw rug. “Mom—” “You grew up seeing the world. Experiencing things most people will never get to in their whole lives.” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “You’ve got a million times the perspective of kids your age. A billion times more compassion and an understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Who is she to make me out to be some inadequate parent when all she cares about is raising obedient, genius robots? She doesn’t know what it was like for me. How hard it was.” “Mom,” I repeated, dropping my hands onto her shoulders as I looked her in the eye. “You did great.” It took a minute for the red to fade from her face, then another for her posture to relax. “You’re great. I just tried not to get in the way too much and screw all that greatness up.” “And if you must know, I’d take any of the hundreds of rooms we’ve shared over this pinktastrophe.” So it was kind of a lie, the littlest of ones. Sure, pink was on my offensive list, but the room was clean and had a door, and I would get to stay in the same place at least for the next few months. After living out of suitcases and overnight bags for most of my life, I was looking forward to discovering what drawer-and-closet living was like. Mom threw her arms around me, pulling me in for one of those final-feeling hugs. Except this time, it kind of wasa final one. Realizing that made me feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball down my throat. “I love you no matter what,” she whispered into my ear again, the same words she’d sang, said, or on occasion shouted at me. Mom never just said I love you. She had something against those three words on their own. They were too open, too loosely defined, too easy to take back when something went wrong. I love you no matter what had always been her way of telling me she loved me forever and for always. Unconditionally. She said that, before me, she’d never felt that type of love for anyone. What I’d picked up along the way on my own was that I was the only one she felt loved her back in the same way. Squeezing my arms around my mom a little harder, I returned her final kind of hug. “I love you no matter what, too.” About the Author Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
For generations, the Bradford family has worn the mantle of kings of the bourbon capital of the world. Their sustained wealth has afforded them prestige and privilege—as well as a hard-won division of class on their sprawling estate, Easterly. Upstairs, a dynasty that by all appearances plays by the rules of good fortune and good taste. Downstairs, the staff who work tirelessly to maintain the impeccable Bradford facade. And never the twain shall meet. For Lizzie King, Easterly’s head gardener, crossing that divide nearly ruined her life. Falling in love with Tulane, the prodigal son of the bourbon dynasty, was nothing that she intended or wanted—and their bitter breakup only served to prove her instincts were right. Now, after two years of staying away, Tulane is finally coming home again, and he is bringing the past with him. No one will be left unmarked: not Tulane’s beautiful and ruthless wife; not his older brother, whose bitterness and bad blood know no bounds; and especially not the ironfisted Bradford patriarch, a man with few morals, fewer scruples, and many, many terrible secrets. As family tensions—professional and intimately private—ignite, Easterly and all its inhabitants are thrown into the grips of an irrevocable transformation, and only the cunning will survive. Find Buy links on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23355896-the-bourbon-kings In Charlemont, Kentucky, the Bradford family is the crème de la crème of high society—just like their exclusive brand of bourbon. And their complicated lives and vast estate are run by a discrete staff who inevitably become embroiled in their affairs. This is especially true now, when the apparent suicide of the family patriarch is starting to look more and more like murder… No one is above suspicion—especially the eldest Bradford son, Edward. The bad blood between him and his father is known far and wide, and he is aware that he could be named a suspect. As the investigation into the death intensifies, he keeps himself busy at the bottom of a bottle—as well as with his former horse trainer’s daughter. Meanwhile, the family’s financial future lies in the perfectly manicured hands of a business rival, a woman who wants Edward all to herself. Everything has consequences; everybody has secrets. And few can be trusted. Then, at the very brink of the family’s demise, someone thought lost to them forever returns to the fold. Maxwell Bradford has come home. But is he a savior...or the worst of all the sinners? Find buy links on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26024583-the-angels-share At first, the death of William Baldwine, the head of the Bradford family, was ruled a suicide. But then his eldest son and sworn enemy, Edward, came forward and confessed to what was, in fact, a murder. Now in police custody, Edward mourns not the disintegration of his family or his loss of freedom . . . but the woman he left behind. His love, Sutton Smythe, is the only person he has ever truly cared about, but as she is the CEO of the Bradford Bourbon Company's biggest competitor, any relationship between them is impossible. And then there's the reality of the jail time that Edward is facing. Lane Baldwine was supposed to remain in his role of playboy, forever in his big brother Edward's shadow. Instead he has become the new head of the family and the company. Convinced that Edward is covering for someone else, Lane and his true love, Lizzie King, go on the trail of a killer--only to discover a secret that is as devastating as it is game-changing. As Lane rushes to discover the truth, and Sutton finds herself irresistibly drawn to Edward in spite of his circumstances, the lives of everyone at Easterly will never be the same again. For some, this is good; for others, it could be a tragedy beyond imagining. Only one thing's for certain: Love survives all things. Even murder. Find buy links on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31298946-devil-s-cut Review: This is such a little review for everything happening in these three books, but there is so much going on and the suspense was so intense that I can't articulate how good it was! I loved the multiple POVs; how there were so many pieces of the story that all came together, yet they were also separate from each other. I want more from this world. More Max especially since we didn't get so much of him. I love Ward's paranormal series, but this series hit the top of the list for me as a satisfying read with a cookie-cutter ending that felt like I could finally breathe by the end. All the characters were dynamic. Each one felt so real. There was a lot of personal growth in them, too. Lizzie and Lane were my favorites, of course. Lane even more so because he was such a lovely character who was determined to do anything to save his family while fearing he was turning into the man he hated. Then Edward was my second favorite. His devotion to protect his family by sacrificing himself time and time again was a true beautiful disaster. Just such a wonderful, enrapturing read that I'm sure I will HAVE to reread repeatedly. ~ Review by Kat Alexander, author of Looking Back on Forever 5-Stars!!!
Title: Allure (Brooklet Dreams)
Author: CA Harms
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 22, 2018 Publisher: Limitless Publishing
The next generation of the Southern Boys returns in a new spin-off series, Brooklet Dreams…
She was supposed to be my forever...
I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. She wore overalls two sizes too big and a pair of gloves that were also too large for her little hands. But that didn’t faze her one bit, and we clicked instantly.
By the age of twelve, we had become best friends, and by the time we turned sixteen, we were more. I had eyes for only one girl. My girl.
But then life changed, and different paths led to broken promises. When she left town, I was forced to let go of our dreams.
I spent my days existing. Baseball, classes, and working at the family farm became my life. I didn’t care about anything else. Until I met Allison Jo.
AJ was the quiet girl I never expected. She brought me to my knees with that beautiful smile. She made me laugh and slowly brought the old me back to life. I found myself wanting more with her.
I became her world, and she was my everything.
But when my past returns, my world is turned upside down.
I’m not sure I was prepared for what was about to happen.
C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn't always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.
She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.
Title: Beneath Your Beautiful
Series: The Beautiful Series #1 Author: Emery Rose
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 17, 2018
All I wanted was a fresh start in a new city ... and a bartending job. I never intended to fall for the sexy, tattooed bar owner.
Dark.
Brooding.
Emotionally unavailable.
Killian Vincent is a challenge I can’t seem to walk away from.
He’s afraid that if I dig too deep, I won’t like what I find.
But he’s wrong, and I’m determined to prove it.
KILLIAN
Love can destroy a man. Bring him to his knees. That’s why I never let anyone get too close.
Until Eden.
Feisty.
Stubborn.
Irresistible.
She’s on a mission to knock down my walls. Dig up truths better left buried.
I need to convince her that walking away is the right choice… before it destroys us both.
Ashley from Amazon - “This book was absolutely amazing.” Everything Marie - “Best of 2018!!” Deborah Lane - “I loved this well written, well crafted book. Recommended!”
Emery Rose has been known to indulge in good red wine, strong coffee, and a healthy dose of sarcasm. She loves writing sexy alpha heroes, strong heroines, artists, beautiful souls, and flawed but redeemable characters who need to work for their HEA.
When she’s not working on her latest project, you can find her binge-watching Netflix, trotting the globe in search of sunshine, or immersed in a good book. A former New Yorker, she currently resides in London with her two fabulous daughters and one grumpy, but lovable Border Terrier.
Blessing of Luna
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Realization hit Damien as to who he was staring down. The same dark god that had challenged him stood in Lilith’s form. Damien’s heart inside his chest burned as he thought about Kain and all he’d done for him. Jill. Dad…Rob…Gabriel…Holt…Chelsea. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Damien. You can surrender and die in peace or you can fight and die anyway. Your choice.” Save him. Luna’s voice inside of Damien’s mind drew his attention. Save him. I beg of you. Please. Damien’s body became surrounded with a radiant light so bright it forced Lilith step back. Her wing covered her face. He braced himself on his front legs, roaring at the monster in front of him responsible for taking so much. The light became so intense not even the lycans could stare at it. When it finally faded, Damien stood in his true lycan form. His white fur blew in the wind like mist at the tip of his stiffened ears to the end of his tail. The dark markings of his wolf form only seen on the tips of his ears, feet and tail. The fur on the back of his neck was thicker, almost resembling a mane. “By the gods, he looks like…” Lune stood in awe. “Tenebris.” Gabriel’s finished, his voice nothing but a whisper. Stoker used the opportunity to sneak off, nursing the wound on his arm inflicted by Gabriel when he shifted into his full lycan form. The vampires hissed at the light rising from the east, trying to flee towards the waning night. They had fallen right into Damien’s plan and were intercepted. Howls and snarls joined dying screams as the vampires were overwhelmed. “What trickery is this?!” Lilith’s fangs spat as she tried to speak. Damien ignored her, seeing the fear in her eyes as he made his way over to Kain on the ground. The alpha was so weak he couldn’t retain his shifted form. “Kain.” Damien’s voice was a comfortable echo. Warm and reassuring. “Alex. Can you hear me?” Kain opened his eyes, slightly jumping. “Tenebris?” Damien shook his head. “No. It’s me.” “Damien. How?” Damien took Kain’s jacket he was always wearing around his waist and covered his friend with it. “Stay here. Don’t move and don’t die.” He stood back up and went to face Lilith. The lycans in his way stepped aside, their heads bowed. “This ends here, Lilith. You won’t hurt anyone else.”
GIVEAWAY!
Reality Gold
by Tiffany Brooks Published by: Dunemere Books Publication date: May 22nd 2018 Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
Synopsis:
“There are only two ways to survive Internet infamy: drop offline and play dead or give everyone something bigger and better to talk about. I’ve tried the first strategy. Now it’s time to try the second…” A year and a lifetime ago, Riley Ozaki was just an ordinary high school junior in San Francisco, stressing over boys and grades. But an ill-conceived editorial in her school paper brought her an internet avalanche of public-shaming and ruined her life. Now Riley’s on a helicopter dropping into a deserted island with nineteen other teens, to star in a reality show that will be her redemption. She has no other choice. National attention was what got her into this mess, and only the same level of exposure can get her out. Besides, Riley has a few tricks up her sleeve. With a cast of vivid characters who will stop at nothing to win the show, a cursed island setting, and a priceless treasure waiting to be discovered, Reality Gold will drop readers right into a scheming web of lies, love, and betrayal.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36459774-reality-gold?ac=1&from_search=true
Purchase: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0998499765 B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/reality-gold-tiffany-brooks/1127274763?ean=9780998499765
Excerpt:
I kicked off my sneakers and let my toes sink into the soft sand, taking it all in. Sparkling blue water, with a wide band of white beach that sloped up toward the green jungle. Really, it was a perfect and picturesque backdrop—all very Lost, minus the crashed airplane. Supposedly there was a storm on its way, but right now the sky was bright and crisp without any sign of trouble. This was it: the very spot where my godfather, Miles Kroger, had been murdered. You would never have known someone had died a violent death here if this beautiful, serene view was all you had to go on. It wasn’t that I expected to see signs of a crime scene, or even a memorial, but it was a little unsettling that something so savage could have occurred in such a peaceful setting without leaving a mark of some sort. Or maybe my discomfort came from the fact that in some ways it was hard to recognize this as the same place. Two years ago, this beach had been mostly deserted without any man-made structures—just lots of treasure hunting gear piled around a makeshift tent camp. Now it was Disney’d up: Incan-style huts and hammocks, fire pits and torch-lined paths. A giant gold gong glinted from the treeline. The sand seemed whiter, almost glittery. Even the jungle seemed greener, as if it had done nothing but rain since I left. Actually, in a way it had rained, I realized. Money. The whole reason I’d heard about the show in the first place was because Deb had been drumming up investors and my father had been on her hit list. My father: Oz, the Great Wizard of Silicon Valley. Otherwise known as Albert Ozaki, he was the man who could bring any start-up from poverty to profitability—someone whose only disappointing endeavor thus far was, apparently, his daughter. “There had better be a green bandana in that basket for me because there’s no way I’m partnering with those yellow idiots,” Maren said. Everyone who’d jumped off the helicopter was celebrating about a hundred yards away. They were a mass of activity, almost a single unit, hopping and jumping around either in excitement or in an effort to dry off. Maybe both. It wasn’t even nine in the morning yet, so it would be awhile before the sun would get hot enough to do any good. I held on tightly to my bag. I didn’t regret staying on the helicopter one bit. “Team Sol!” There were lots of celebratory cheers, some with a taunting edge, as if yellow unquestionably represented the better team and those of us on the green team had already failed the first test. Ha. Little did they know.
Author Bio:
Tiffany Brooks lives in San Francisco with her family and a bunch of pets, who luckily don’t object to being featured on her Instagram. The best thing about living on the west coast is she can find out what happens on Game of Thrones three hours ahead of air time. That, plus not having winter weather, means she’ll never move back east, although that doesn’t stop her New England family from asking when she’ll be moving “back home” to NYC or Connecticut. Reality Gold, her debut novel, kicks off the Shifting Reality Collection, a YA trilogy.
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âªï¸ âªï¸ âªï¸Releases June 12thâªï¸ âªï¸ âªï¸
Amazon: amzn.to/2IggKOf
iBooks: chellebliss.com/td-ibooks
Nook: chellebliss.com/td-nook
Kobo: chellebliss.com/td-kobo
INTERNATIONAL READERS
Amazon UK: amzn.to/2GVZe2c
iBooks UK: apple.co/2GkzpMl
Kobo UK: bit.ly/2GCBbHQ
Amazon AU: amzn.to/2E6nvPQ
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You don't have to read all the books in this series, but they are great fun so don't miss out..
USA Today bestselling author Chelle Bliss currently lives in a small town near the Gulf of Mexico. She's a full-time writer, time-waster extraordinaire, social media addict, and coffee fiend. She's written over ten books and has two series available. She loves spending her free time with her boyfriend, 2 cats, and her hamster.
Before becoming a writer, Chelle taught high school history for over ten years. She holds a master's degree in Instructional Technology and a bachelor's in History. Although history is her first love, writing has become her dream job and she can't imagine doing anything else.
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Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Fantasy, Mystery and Contemporary Romance novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum.
When sheâs not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden patiently waits for her Hogwarts letter, edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football.
She is currently living under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana. Please send help.
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Subscribe to Edenâs newsletter http://eepurl.com/VXQXD for giveaways, sneak peeks and various goodies that might just give you a chuckle.
Forged in Ember
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: “You can talk to him after you’ve eaten, Benji. Now skedaddle.” She waited for Brendan to herd his brother across the cafeteria floor before turning a suddenly grave face in Mac’s direction. “The boys’ doctor asked to see Amy in private, and I suspect the news is less than good. Nobody should have to face something like that alone, but she needed help with the boys, so I couldn’t stay.” Ah hell . . . Stiffening, Mac took a step back. “Beth or Kait—” “Aren’t here. You are. The meeting with the doctor will be over by the time I find them. Amy needs someone now.” Mac took another step back. “I’m sure Mrs. Chastain would prefer to have a woman with her.” “The only woman available is me, and I promised her I’d take care of her children. Trust me, she’d be much more comfortable with me watching over her boys than holding her hand. Which means you’re currently the only person available to step up.” She leaned toward him, a militant look sheening her gaze. Fuck. “She’s at the clinic, Commander. Alone. She needs you.” The resolve shifted to entreaty in her eyes and voice. Double fuck. He spread his feet and tensed his muscles, powering up for an uncompromising refusal. No way in hell was he taking on Amy Chastain’s troubles. “Fine.” The surrender grated as it rumbled up his throat and out his mouth. Where the hell had that come from? Mac scowled, regrouping. Time to nip this in the bud and retreat to safety. “Look, I’ll check in on her. That’s all I’m promising.” He groaned beneath his breath. Agreeing to check up on the damn woman wasn’t exactly retreating. Marion’s expression softened in relief. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, Commander.” Grunting an acknowledgment, Mac brushed past Marion before she talked him into doing anything else. Of course, just because he’d agreed to check on Amy didn’t mean he had to do so. It would be easy enough to skirt that duty by heading in the opposite direction. Except his feet developed a mind of their own and carried him two streets to the right and through the clinic’s sliding glass doors.
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