Review/Excerpt Tour for DRAGON KING by Donna Grant

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Dragon King

About DRAGON KING: A Dark Kings Novella:

A Woman on a Mission
Grace Clark has always done things safe. She’s never colored outside of the law, but she has a book due and has found the perfect spot to break through her writer’s block. Or so she thinks. Right up until Arian suddenly appears and tries to force her away from the mountain. Unaware of the war she just stumbled into, Grace doesn’t just discover the perfect place to write, she finds Arian—the most gorgeous, enticing, mysterious man she’s ever met.
A King with a Purpose
Arian is a Dragon King who has slept away centuries in his cave. Recently woken, he’s about to leave his mountain to join his brethren in a war when he’s alerted that someone has crossed onto Dreagan. He’s ready to fight . . . until he sees the woman. She’s innocent and mortal—and she sets his blood aflame. He recognizes the danger approaching her just as the dragon within him demands he claim her for his own…

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Buy Links:

 Amazon eBook ** Amazon Paperback

A man and woman with their heads together touching,

Excerpt:

Arian paced the cavern in his mountain in agitation and a wee bit of anxiety. He was shaking off the dragon sleep from the past six hundred years. Not only had it been six centuries since he had been in human form, but there was a war the Dragon Kings were involved in.

Con and the others were waiting for him to join in the war. Every King had been woken to take part. After all the wars they had been involved in, Arian wasn’t happy to be woken to join another.

Because of Ulrik. The banished and disgraced Dragon King hadn’t just made a nuisance of himself, but he somehow managed to get his magic returned.

Which meant the Kings needed to put extra magic into keeping the four silver dragons sleeping undisturbed deep within the mountain. They were Ulrik’s dragons, and he would want to wake them soon.

But it wasn’t just Ulrik that was causing mischief. The Dark Fae were as well. It infuriated Arian that they were once more fighting the Dark. Hadn’t the Fae Wars killed enough Fae and dragons?

Then again, as a Dragon King as old as time itself, they were targets for others who wanted to defeat them.

For Ulrik, he just wanted revenge. Arian hated him for it, but he could understand. Mostly because Arian had briefly joined Ulrik in his quest to rid the realm of humans.

Thoughts of Ulrik were pushed aside as Arian found himself thinking about why he had taken to his mountain. When he came here six hundred years earlier, it was to remain there for many thousands of years.

The Dragon Kings sought their mountains for many reasons. Some were just tired of dealing with mortals, but others had something they wished to forget for a while. Arian was one of the latter.

There were many things he did in his past when the King of Kings, Constantine, asked. Not all of them Arian was proud of. The one that sent him to his mountain still preyed upon him.

He didn’t remember her name, but he remembered her tears. Because of the spell to prevent any of the Dragon Kings from falling in love with mortals, Arian had easily walked away from the female.

Six centuries later, he could still hear her begging him to stay with her, still see the tears coursing down her face. Though he hadn’t felt anything, it bothered him that he had so easily walked away. Because Con had demanded it.

Loyalty—above all else.

The Dragon Kings were his family, and Dreagan his home. There was never any question if he were needed that Arian would do whatever it took to help his brethren in any capacity asked of him.

About Donna Grant:

Donna Grant

Donna Grant is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the sizzling Dark King series featuring dragons, immortal Highlanders, and the Fae.

She was born and raised in Texas but loves to travel. Her adventures have taken her throughout the United States as well as to Jamaica, Mexico, and Scotland. Growing up on the Texas/Louisiana border, Donna’s Cajun side of the family taught her the “spicy” side of life while her Texas roots gave her two-steppin’ and bareback riding.

Despite deadlines and voracious reading, Donna still manages to keep up with her two children, four cats, and one long haired Chihuahua.

Website ** Twitter ** Facebook ** Author Goodreads ** DRAGON KING Goodreads

Blog Tour for TOGETHER WE HEAL by Chelsea M. Cameron

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TOGETHER WE HEAL Synopsis:

Trish Grant is not a romantic. Okay, so she may read her share of romance novels, but that doesn’t mean she thinks that some fellow with a six pack is going to ride up on a horse and sweep her (literally) off her feet. Romance like that just isn’t for her. It belongs on the page.

Max Jackson noticed Trish at his cousin’s funeral, of all places. She was hard to miss with her citrus-colored hair, violet contacts and fiery attitude.

Trish was just as captivated by Max. He makes her laugh, which is rare, and it doesn’t hurt that he rocks blue hair and the most killer smirk that drives her crazy. Max is there for her during a rough time and even if she wanted to, she can’t shake him.

There are things about Trish that Max doesn’t know, and she’s not going to tell him. She hasn’t told anyone and doesn’t plan on it, thank you very much. But when Trish’s life is ripped apart by a dark piece of her past, will she let Max in? Or will she give up her potential fairytale to protect her already-scarred heart from further damage?

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BUY LINKS:
AMAZON:  amzn.to/1E0z9vg
BARNES & NOBLE:

EXCERPT

“I just keep wondering what my dad would say. I mean,” she said, her voice breaking, “I’d like to think he’d be happy, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t. And I don’t know how to tell my mom. I really don’t.” She put her head in her hands and I heard a muffled sob.

 

Shit. I was not good with this kind of stuff. Emotional stuff. But I got up from my chair and went to sit next to her, putting my arm gently around her.

 

“You’ll figure it out. You don’t have to do it right now. I mean, you’ve got nine months before you definitely have to tell her. You could just say you’re getting fat in one particular area.” She giggled and the sound was a little snotty. I got her a tissue and she blew her nose.

 

“I’m sorry for falling apart on you. I just didn’t want to do it front of Stryker because he’s already so stressed.” We sat on the couch for a while and then she got up to go to the bathroom. When she came back, I had the television on and had found a Law & Order marathon.

That made her laugh again.

 

“Thanks, Trish,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.”

 

 

 

 

 

GIVEAWAY:
Win a signed set of books from Chelsea M. Cameron or a $20 Sephora GC during the TOGETHER WE HEAL blog tour!
Link Here

Capture Blog Tour

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Designed grunge paper texture, background

Designed grunge paper texture, background

SYNOPSIS:

Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair.

But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window.

Dani lives anything but a normal life.

Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.

And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime.

But that doesn’t change the fact their parents are dead.

Or that it’s her fault.

It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on the outside.

That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer.

He’s gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.

But that doesn’t stop her from wondering…if things were different…would he want her?

If she was whole, would he be the other half?

Vintage portrait of a smart serious young man

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20938507-capture

Barnes & Noble : http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/capture-rachel-van-dyken/1121971912?ean=2940151927178

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/capture/id998769533?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Young couple of lovers kissing on black background

Young couple of lovers kissing on black background

EXCERPT:

“Finally!” Jaymeson pointed at both of us. “Lincoln, show her to her mark. Dani, for this scene you’re simply staring at him like you want to eat him. Think you can do that?”

I nodded.

Any woman could do that.

Most men too.

“Cue music!” Jaymeson called out. “Action.”

A techno mix of AD2’s latest song filled the air as the extras started dancing around us. I stayed glued to the wall while Lincoln delivered his lines to Pris, and then he lifted his head, meeting my gaze.

It’s just a movie. It’s just a movie.

The breath left my chest on one slow exhale as he moved toward me, his body making fluid purposeful movements through the crowd.

My lips parted; my entire body felt heavy as he approached.

He stopped in front of me, his forehead grazing mine as he leaned in a few inches. Our breath mingled as the music and scene faded around me.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.

Holy crap on a cracker. I almost experienced my first stroke — at seventeen.

“You okay?” Lincoln’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

I licked the lipstick from my lips and nodded quickly.

Jaymeson approached. “Time for the kiss, remember kissing, not hockey. Clearly, you were confused earlier.”

Lincoln gritted his teeth and let out a little groan.

I patted his arm and grinned, my way of encouraging him. He seemed to pale more.

My stomach sank.

Maybe it was me.

I was the problem.

Not the kiss, but me. If he’d had trouble kissing my gorgeous sister, how was he going to be able to kiss me?

“Hey…” Lincoln cupped my cheek. “… focus on me, nothing else, alright? It’s only us.”

I nodded.

“You ever been to a party?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Ever made out with a guy at a party that wasn’t your boyfriend?”

I thought about it then slowly shook my head.

“So that’s what this scene is about. It’s about a guy seeing a girl from across the room and wanting her so badly that he’s willing to cheat on his own girlfriend for just one taste. Granted, he’s supposedly drunk and high, but that just takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it?”

He released my cheek and stepped back. “Imagine you’re trying to attract me, make your body as inviting as possible. Hell, just stand there and look at me, and you’ll sell it.”

Sell it. I repeated the words in my mind.

I could do that.

Because I wanted him to kiss me.

It made my heart beat faster.

My blood pump harder.

And for the first time since my parents’ death, I was actually excited about something. Nervous, but excited.

“Okay,” I mouthed.

I must have surprised him again because his eyes darkened, and then he grinned. “One day, Dani. One day I’m going to hear my name coming from that gorgeous mouth of yours, and I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions… damn the consequences.”

My breath hitched.

“Quiet on set! And action!”

There was no warning. Suddenly, Lincoln’s mouth was fused against mine, no teeth, just his soft lips pushing, prodding, moving slowly back and forth until his tongue slid through and made contact with mine.

Heart racing, I opened my mouth enough to deepen the kiss as heat washed over me.

He groaned and dug his fingers into my shoulders then slid his hands down my back and gripped my butt. I let out a squeak of surprise as I flicked his tongue with mine.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled.

I kept kissing.

So did Lincoln.

His chest brushed roughly against mine; my breasts ached at the sharp contact. I let out a little hiss at the exact time Linc let out a groan and nudged his knee between my legs.

“Cut!” Jaymeson yelled again.

Slowly, Lincoln pried himself away from me, chest heaving.

“Good enough,” said Jaymeson.

“No,” Lincoln argued without taking his wild grey eyes off me, “I went off script. We need to do it again.”

“The hell you do,” someone mumbled. I wasn’t surprised to see Demetri glaring daggers at Lincoln’s back. Alec was next to Jaymeson, giving him an earful. I noted the strong tick in his jaw.

“Fine.” Jaymeson waved them both off. “We’ll do it again.”

“Take two, and action!”

This time the kiss was slow, languid in its movements. Hot waves of pleasure coursed through my body as his tongue slid seductively pass my lips. His taste, the feel of his mouth was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Greedily, I moaned, desperate for more of him as I reached for his shirt then fisting it with my hands and tugging him tighter against my body, wanting more contact with him. I felt every plane of muscle as he slowly turned us so his back was semi facing the camera. His knee nudged my legs apart as pressure increased down the middle of my body. I hadn’t really looked long at the script, but I was pretty sure that this wasn’t part of it.

Not that I was complaining.

He rocked into me, my back connected with the wall. With a possessive growl, he nipped my lower lip then started kissing down my neck. Kissing in public had never been my thing — but maybe that was because I’d never kissed Lincoln.

I would kiss him anywhere.

All he needed to do was ask.

Body humming with pleasure, I let out a little gasp as his warm lips met the pulse on my neck. Then his tongue licked where his lips had just been.

His knee rose higher and higher as my body sank onto his; the first contact of his leg had my body screaming with pleasure — just a little higher, just a little more.

“Cut!” someone shouted, though it didn’t sound like Jaymeson.

Suddenly, Demetri was pulling Lincoln away from me and glaring daggers at both of us. “I think you guys got the scene.”

Embarrassed, I looked down, tucking my silky hair behind my ear. Did I really almost just dry hump Lincoln Greene’s leg? In front of about twenty people, including my sister?

“You sure?” Lincoln asked, voice hoarse. I glanced up at him, his chest was heaving with exertion, his lips swollen. “Because I could have sworn I messed up my lines.”

“There are no lines, you bastard,” Demetri muttered under his breath.

“Damn it!” Jaymeson shouted. “Hey, guys, I’m going to need you to shoot it one more time. Remember, Lincoln, you’re supposed to proposition her.”

Lincoln grinned smugly at Demetri.

Demetri didn’t move.

Young happy handsome man over contrast shadow background

Vintage fashion portrait of young man in blue shirt

Fashion male portrait

Sexy fashion portrait of a hot male model with muscular body

ABOUT RACHEL VAN DYKEN:

 rachelborder

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel’s New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .

 

Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelVanDyken

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RachVD

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4882127.Rachel_Van_Dyken?from_search=true

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Van-Dyken/e/B0054TW5AA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1407369649&sr=8-2-ent

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/8l7hP

Blog Tour for Getting Hot by Mia Storm

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GettingHot Amazon

Blurb:

Rules of engagement:

1) You have the right to use force to defend yourself.

2) Fire may be returned to stop a hostile attack.

3) You may not seize the property of others to accomplish your mission.

4) Detention of civilians is authorized in self-defense.

Delilah Morgan and her older sister Destiny have been on their own for two years, since their parents burned down the family home and went to jail for cooking meth. She’s street smart and tough. Nothing about her says sixteen, and she’s not about to tell anyone, especially Bran, the hot ex-marine bartender Destiny has her eye on. He’s stable and successful and everything her sister needs to keep them off the street. The only problem, something about Bran inspires her and suddenly she’s writing the best music she ever has. About him.

Branson Silo knows what it means to be in the line of fire. Home for a year from his second tour of duty in Afghanistan, he thinks he’s safe…until he meets Delilah. Despite her sharp tongue that makes him want to take cover, he can’t deny the attraction. But when he hires her to play weekends at his family’s saloon, he finds out she’s more than he can handle…which is saying something considering he used to blow things up for a living.

When the grenade finally explodes and the shrapnel flies, will Bran be left standing? Or has he survived years at war only to be taken down by Jail Bait?

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25610476-getting-hot

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AMAZON BUY LINK- HERE

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EXCERPT:

I’m blending a pair of frozen daiquiris with one hand and shaking a martini with the other when out of the corner of my eye, I see a solo blonde slide onto the barstool at the end, near the beer taps. I finish what I’m doing and prepare the tray for Carol to pick up before glancing over and seeing its Destiny.

A guy in the middle of the bar makes eye contact and nods at his empty beer mug. I grab it and start filling without really looking up at her. “Didn’t think I’d see you again till closer to closing.”

“Sorry?” she says. “Are you talking to me?”

The voice is off—slightly raspy and a pitch lower than her usual. I look up again and squint at her, wondering if she’s already started drinking. She’s taken her straight hair down from the ponytail she always wears it in and it’s not as long as I remember it from the other night—the only other time I’ve seen it down. There’s also a fading blue stripe cutting through the platinum over her right ear that I’ve never noticed before.

“What can I get you?” I ask her instead of pushing it.

I’m already reaching for the vodka and cranberry to start on a Madras, her drink of choice last week, when she answers, “Rum and Coke.”

“That’s different,” I mutter, shooting her another glance.

She gives me a puzzled look. “Look, I really just wanted to find out if you hire entertainment.”

My face mirrors her puzzlement, I’m sure, as I try to process her statement. “Why?”

She hunches to the side and pulls something up from her feet. I see it’s a battered black guitar case when the narrow end peeks over the top of the bar. “Because I need a gig.”

“Didn’t know you played,” I say, pushing her drink across the bar to her.

That baffled look is back as she pulls it toward her and takes a swallow. I can’t help following the curve of her long neck downward toward a pair of large round tits perfectly outlined by her snug, low-cut T-shirt. She is definitely hot, and if we’re on the same page, then I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. She wants me to fuck her till she screams? I’m perfectly capable of that. She sets her drink down and catches me staring. She cuts me that wicked smile again, causing my cock to stir. I return the smile, sending the innuendo right back at her.

She props her elbows onto the bar and leans forward, giving me a clear look down her shirt. “Considering that we’ve never met before, I don’t find that surprising.”

I’m so absorbed in images of my face buried in those magnificent tits that it takes me a second to process what she said.

My eyes snap to hers. “Wait…what?”

She reaches across the bar, offering me a hand. “Lilah.”

There’s a full second all I can do is stare, wondering if this is one of those split personality things you hear about sometimes. And in that second, through the dim lighting, I take in all the tiny details—a dark mole at the outer corner of her right eye; her eyes, silver instead of blue; the missing white crescent-shaped scar above Destiny’s right eyebrow; and lips, a little fuller than I remember—which are smirking at me now.

“You’re not Destiny,” I say as it all clicks.

It’s not a question, but she shakes her head. “No. I am most definitely not Destiny.”

“Twins?” I ask.

She cocks her head playfully. “What do you think?”

“You’ve got to be. You’re fucking identical except for the eyes.” I tap my forehead. “And you’re missing a scar.”

Her perfect blond eyebrow raises in amusement. “She’s the pretty one and I’m the smart one.”

I bark out a laugh as I reach across and shake her hand. “Bran Silo. Good to meet you.”

She doesn’t let go of my hand for a second after we’re done shaking—just long enough to send a clear message that she’s interested.

A knot forms in my gut, and I realize it’s guilt. Destiny and I have an understanding, but regardless, I’m pretty sure fucking her sister would be way outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior. Not that anyone would ever mistake me for a gentleman. “Destiny never mentioned she had a sister.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She takes another drink, nearly polishing it off in a few big gulps.

I tip my head at it her glass. “Another?”

“My limit is one,” she says, pushing her glass toward me. “Just Coke this time, thanks.”

Carol sweeps by on her way to the kitchen, dropping an order on my bar. “Thought you left,” she says to Lilah without slowing down. “Careful or your favorite customer might ask for you,” she adds, jerking her head at Mr. Hendricks as she disappears through the swinging door.

I bark out a laugh as I scoop ice into Lilah’s glass and fill it with Coke. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

Lilah shrugs. “Happens all the time.” She slides out of her chair, lifting the guitar case. “So do you want to hear me play or what?”

I look around the crowded room, loud with chatter, drowning out the background music. “We don’t generally have live entertainment,” I say, which is really an understatement. We’ve never had live entertainment. But for some reason, I’m not willing to shut Lilah down so fast.

When my eyes find her again, annoyed impatience shines loud and clear out of her gaze. “So that’s a no?”

I feel my mouth pull into a cocky half-smile. “I didn’t say that.”

She opens her case and pulls out her guitar, unabashedly climbing through the window I left ajar for her. I watch as she sets herself up on the stool and rests the guitar in her lap, gripping it softly but confidently. She starts strumming, and I expect her to be discrete, since this is basically an audition, but there’s not a shred of self-consciousness or embarrassment anywhere in her disposition as she begins to belt out lyrics—an old No Doubt song that I can’t remember the name of.

The way she plays, as if on instinct; the passion in her voice, and the fact that she’s really fucking good, starts to turn heads at the tables closest to us. As they quiet and listen, more tables still, and soon the only thing she’s competing to be heard over is the Kat Country on the speakers. But she doesn’t decrease her volume. If anything, as eyes find her, she becomes louder, feeding off the attention.

I reach under the bar and click off the stereo, then lean onto the back counter and cross my arms, listening as she finishes one song and launches into the next.

A guy at the bar pulls a five from his pocket and flags me down with it. I grab his beer mug, but he shakes his head. “Is there a tip jar?” he asks with a nod toward Lilah.

I pull a fresh mug from under the bar and he slips the five inside, then I set it at the end of the bar near Lilah. She cuts me a smile and her eyes slide down my body as she sings.

And fuck me. I lean my hands on the bar and press against the lower counter when my dick won’t yield to my will. Without a doubt, everything Destiny has going on, Lilah’s got that and more.

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About the Author:

Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite. Connect with her online at MiaStormAuthor.blogspot.com , on Twitter at @MiaStormAuthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MiaStormAuthor

 

Pre-release launch for Capture Aug.14tha

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Designed grunge paper texture, background

Designed grunge paper texture, background

SYNOPSIS:

Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair.

But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window.

Dani lives anything but a normal life.

Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.

And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime.

But that doesn’t change the fact their parents are dead.

Or that it’s her fault.

It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on the outside.

That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer.

He’s gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.

But that doesn’t stop her from wondering…if things were different…would he want her?

If she was whole, would he be the other half?

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20938507-capture

Barnes & Noble : http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/capture-rachel-van-dyken/1121971912?ean=2940151927178

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/capture/id998769533?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Sexy fashion portrait of a hot male model with muscular body

Fashion male portrait

Vintage fashion portrait of young man in blue shirt

EXCERPT:

“You kiss my wife and enjoy it, I remove your balls in your sleep.” Jaymeson said in a chipper voice as he slapped me on the back.

“Always great working with a real professional, Jaymeson, always great,” I muttered.

“Here’s a tip,” Jaymeson whispered in a low voice so Pris couldn’t hear us. “Get it done on the first take so I don’t have to cause an on-set accident where I set your trailer on fire and blame it on God smiting you for being a Hollywood heathen.”

“Heathen?” I repeated with a smirk. “Isn’t that the part I’m playing? I thought Demetri was hot for Nat, so doesn’t that mean I need to be hot for your wife? Your very…” I glanced at Pris. “…lovely wife?”

“Bastard. I should never have cast you!”

I burst out laughing. “Jay, you know I’m messing with you. I’m professional. That’s why you cast me, because in a sea of Hollywood heathens, I’m the only one who wouldn’t make a pass at your wife.”

He shrugged. “True. Also you may be passable in the whole looks department, or so I’ve been told by numerous people on set.”

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Jamie Jaymeson. Women tattoo my name on their asses and ask me to sign their boobs.”

“You signed whose boobs?” Pris asked, sneaking up on our conversation.

“My grandma’s,” I blurted. “She’s such—” I wrapped an arm around Jaymeson and squeezed. “—a huge fan.”

“Right.” Jaymeson coughed. “It’s always such a thrill, signing elderly ladies tits. Hey, you think I should do a nursing home tour?”

“Yeah, man.” I nodded. “Dream big.”

Young couple of lovers kissing on black background

Young couple of lovers kissing on black background

Young happy handsome man over contrast shadow background

Vintage portrait of a smart serious young man

 

 

 

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Getting Hot By Mia Storm promo​

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GettingHot Amazon

Blurb:

Rules of engagement:

1) You have the right to use force to defend yourself.

2) Fire may be returned to stop a hostile attack.

3) You may not seize the property of others to accomplish your mission.

4) Detention of civilians is authorized in self-defense.

 

Delilah Morgan and her older sister Destiny have been on their own for two years, since their parents burned down the family home and went to jail for cooking meth. She’s street smart and tough. Nothing about her says sixteen, and she’s not about to tell anyone, especially Bran, the hot ex-marine bartender Destiny has her eye on. He’s stable and successful and everything her sister needs to keep them off the street. The only problem, something about Bran inspires her and suddenly she’s writing the best music she ever has. About him.

Branson Silo knows what it means to be in the line of fire. Home for a year from his second tour of duty in Afghanistan, he thinks he’s safe…until he meets Delilah. Despite her sharp tongue that makes him want to take cover, he can’t deny the attraction. But when he hires her to play weekends at his family’s saloon, he finds out she’s more than he can handle…which is saying something considering he used to blow things up for a living.

When the grenade finally explodes and the shrapnel flies, will Bran be left standing? Or has he survived years at war only to be taken down by Jail Bait?

 GH teaser 1

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25610476-getting-hot

GH teaser 3

GH teaser 4

About the Author:

Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite. Connect with her online at MiaStormAuthor.blogspot.com , on Twitter at @MiaStormAuthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MiaStormAuthor

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Chapter 1:

Chapter 1

Bran

I shouldn’t have fucked her last week. That was my mistake, and I feel like a douche—something I’m not used to.

I watch Destiny tuck a long strand of platinum hair behind her ear with her pen as she finishes taking drink orders at the table near the door. She shoots me a secret smile when she turns and makes her way over, and I mentally shoot myself for getting caught looking. This train’s already careening down the track, barely holding onto the rails, and when I pull shit like this, it only picks up momentum.

“We got Hendricks?” she asks, slapping her order on the ancient mahogany bar between us.

I look over the order. “Closest thing I got is Tanqueray.”

The smile falls off her face and she blows out a sigh. “I’ll ask him.”

I follow the curve where her tiny waist blooms into a killer ass as she turns and heads back to the table.

She’s hot. That’s what it boils down to. When I took her home last week, it was after her first training shift with Carol. We’d sat at the bar and knocked back a few after closing and I got caught up in everything she had going on. I totally missed the signs. I didn’t see that she was looking for more than a hookup until after it was too late—until she didn’t leave after we’d done the deed.

The only guy at the table with three women—some total wannabe with a dark suit jacket over a turtleneck and pressed jeans—scowls and gives Destiny some lip. I can’t hear what he says over the piped in Kat Country, but she shrugs and says something back, then offers me an apologetic squint when the guy pushes up from his seat. He starts my direction on polished loafers, but his eyes widen slightly and he pulls up short when he sees me.

The reaction’s not unusual. When I left for boot camp six years ago, I was already in decent shape. I was Oak Crest High’s first ever (and only, as far as I know) four sport athlete all for years—football in the fall, wrestling in the winter, and baseball and track in the spring. Which is probably a big part of the reason my grades weren’t good enough to do anything but enlist. But the Marines made all that training look like fucking Romper Room, and it was only a matter of weeks before my bulk didn’t fit into any of my old clothes anymore. Since Pop owns the local gym and my sister Brenda runs it, when I’m not working behind Mom’s bar at the Sam Hill Saloon, I spend most of my time lifting weights. I’ve managed to stay in pretty decent shape…which means guys like this pansy ass are generally intimidated. Course, the tattooed six-foot-three thing doesn’t hurt the intimidation factor. Since I let my dark flattop grow out, I look more like a biker than an ex-Marine.

After a beat, his shiny shoes start moving again but he stops three feet short of the bar, out of my wingspan. “Tanqueray or Tanqueray number ten?” he demands, putting on a “big man” show for the women he’s here with.

I step aside to show him the rack behind me and he flinches a little at my movement. “For top shelf gin, Tanqueray’s what I got.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales his disappointment, then scans my top shelf again. “Tanqueray isn’t even in the same league as Hendricks.”

I shrug. “You want the citrus, I’d go with the Seagrams. Something drier, I’ve got Beefeaters.”

He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling as if my suggestions are all so far below him he’s afraid of getting a nosebleed if he has to look all the way down at them. “Just give me the Tanqueray. Make it a Tom Collins so I don’t have to taste it.”

He stalks back to his table and drops into his seat as I start on their order.

Destiny comes over and watches me mix. “That guy’s a jerk,” she say with a flick of her eyes back toward the wannabe professor. “Thank God he’s Carol’s to deal with in fifteen.”

“You’re giving Carol the tip?” I say with raised eyebrows.

Her lip curls. “Guys like that don’t tip.”

I lift my eyes to him as I shake his Tom Collins. “He give you a hard time?”

“He thought I should’ve known what kind of Tanqueray we have.” Her face scrunches. “I didn’t even know there were different kinds.”

I glance at the table again. City folk for sure. Probably up here in the foothills for something at the college. “Guess he didn’t realize he’d wandered out of his natural habitat.”

She busts out a laugh as I pour his drink into the highball. “So, I was thinking…” she says when her laugh dies. “I could swing by your place when you get off. If you want.”

“Listen…” I start, setting the drink on her tray. But just as I open my mouth to tell her I don’t do relationships, Mom shoves through the swinging door from the kitchen. Five years in the Marines and two tours in Afghanistan, and I’ve yet to come across another single person who intimidates me…except my mom. She makes some of my Marine COs look like kindergarten teachers.

“Hey Vicky,” Destiny says. “Has Carol punched in yet?” She tosses her eyes at Mr. Hendrick’s. “I’m giving her that table as soon as she does.”

“She just clocked in,” Mom answers, glancing suspiciously at the table. “What’s the issue?”

Destiny shrugs a shoulder and picks up the tray of drinks I slide across the bar to her. “That guy needs to get over himself. Carol’s better at dealing with people like that.”

It’s the “take no crap” chromosome in the Silo family gene pool. My cousin is almost as intimidating as Mom. She has a way of putting pricks like that in their place without them even realizing how it happened.

Just as I’m thinking it, I see her pass by the porthole in the wooden door to the kitchen, pulling her dark curls back into a ponytail. A second later, she pushes through the door.

She looks at the three of us and her eyes narrow as she slings her short, black apron under her bulging belly and ties it. “You guys do know that when everyone clams up and stares at you when you walk into a room, that’s a dead giveaway they were talking about you, right?”

“All good, cuz,” I say, lifting one hand in surrender while picking up my bar rag with the other.

She gives us a glare that could fry bacon. “I’m not fat.”

“No, you’re not,” Destiny says, handing her the tray of drinks. “But I’m punching out and I need you to take that table.”

Carol’s gaze shifts to the table in question. “What’s wrong with them?”

“The guy’s a sanctimonious prick,” I say wiping down the bar. “He needs to be reminded his shit still stinks in the way only you can.”

A slow smile pulls at her mouth and she takes the drink tray.

“He’s the Tom Collins,” Destiny says. “The chardonnay is for the girl on his right and the Cosmos are for the other two.”

She bats her eyelashes and starts toward the table. “Coming right up,” she says, all breathy and sweet.

Mom turns to me once she’s gone, her frown deepening. “I came out here to remind you to put a note in the drawer if you pull petty cash, Bran.”

I give her a dubious smirk. “Really, Ma? I’ve been doing this for almost a year. Think I’ve got the drill down by now.”

“Well, the drawer came up exactly sixty short last night. So how else do you explain that?”

I feel my brows lift. My drawer’s never off by anything more than a few pennies. “You sure you didn’t pull it for the wine order?”

She scowls at me and crow’s feet crease the corners of her eyes. “I might be old, but I’m not senile yet.”

For her age, I have to say Mom looks pretty damn amazing. She met Dad sometime in the stone ages, when she used to dance at a strip club in San Francisco, and even still, I can see why he picked her out of the crowd. She’s got a deep worry line at the inside corner of her right eyebrow, but otherwise her face is deceptively youthful. The only thing that gives her age away is the skunk stripe that starts on the left side of her forehead and winds through the sea of dark hair pinned onto the back of her head like a the first swirl of cream into black coffee.

“I didn’t take any cash, Ma. Seriously.”

She sighs wearily and rubs her eyes. “It’s been a long day. I’ll check the numbers again tomorrow morning when I can think.”

I lean down and give her a peck on the cheek. “’Night, Ma.”

She hooks her elbow around my neck and yanks me in for a hug. “See you tomorrow, baby boy.”

She’s the only one I’d ever let call me baby or honey or any shit like that because, like I said, I’m a little scared of her. I watch her disappear through the kitchen door.

And then it’s just Destiny, waiting for an answer.

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly as I turn to her. “Listen, Destiny. There’s no question you are fucking amazing, and I had an awesome time the other night…but I feel like you might have gotten the wrong idea about what this is.” I drop the bar rag and splay my hands on the bar between us, holding her gaze. I may be a dick, but I’ve got a moral compass that points in the right general direction most of the time. She deserves to be told straight up. “I’m not the kind of guy that does relationships, and even if I were, you wouldn’t want one with me.”

It’s not like I expect her to whine or beg. I’ve only known her for a week, since Mom hired her for day shifts, but she seems generally more together than that.

What I also don’t expect is a shameless smile to spread over her face as she leans closer. “So, are you saying that pounding me until I scream your name is too much of a commitment?”

I blow out a laugh and give my head a slow shake. “This isn’t how I pictured this conversation going.”

She pushes away from the bar and unties her apron. “I’ll be back before closing. Maybe have a drink or two. And when you leave, if you take me with you, you won’t be sorry. If not…” She shrugs. “…no harm no foul.”

I watch as she disappears through the kitchen door behind Mom to punch out. Carol drops another drink order on the bar on her way to the kitchen and I go back to work.

The Friday evening crowd picks up and it’s not long before all the tables are full and patrons start lining the bar. I dim the lights—the closest we come to ambiance.

The Sam Hill Saloon has been here since the gold rush, when the town of Oak Crest was established as a mining camp. After they got married, Dad brought Mom out here and bought her this bar to keep her “busy,” since he didn’t want her taking off her clothes for horny men anymore. She got it in the divorce and has run it for the last thirty years, but the truth is, almost nothing here has changed for nearly three quarters of a century. There are pictures on the walls of grimy gold miners lined up at this very bar. Even most of the chunky wooden barstools and tables have survived. At some point, some owner lined the front wall under the windows with three booths, and Mom added a big-screen TV, but other than that, it looks exactly like the pictures. And there’s the faint stench of stale beer emanating from the floor planking that no amount of bleach will ever get out.

But it’s a landmark, and the only bar in town, so we’re usually busy.

I’m blending a pair of frozen daiquiris with one hand and shaking a martini with the other when out of the corner of my eye, I see a solo blonde slide onto the barstool at the end, near the beer taps. I finish what I’m doing and prepare the tray for Carol to pick up before glancing over and seeing its Destiny.

A guy in the middle of the bar makes eye contact and nods at his empty beer mug. I grab it and start filling without really looking up at her. “Didn’t think I’d see you again till closer to closing.”

“Sorry?” she says. “Are you talking to me?”

The voice is off—slightly raspy and a pitch lower than her usual. I look up again and squint at her, wondering if she’s already started drinking. She’s taken her straight hair down from the ponytail she always wears it in and it’s not as long as I remember it from the other night—the only other time I’ve seen it down. There’s also a fading blue stripe cutting through the platinum over her right ear that I’ve never noticed before.

“What can I get you?” I ask her instead of pushing it.

I’m already reaching for the vodka and cranberry to start on a Madras, her drink of choice last week, when she answers, “Rum and Coke.”

“That’s different,” I mutter, shooting her another glance.

She gives me a puzzled look. “Look, I really just wanted to find out if you hire entertainment.”

My face mirrors her puzzlement, I’m sure, as I try to process her statement. “Why?”

She hunches to the side and pulls something up from her feet. I see it’s a battered black guitar case when the narrow end peeks over the top of the bar. “Because I need a gig.”

“Didn’t know you played,” I say, pushing her drink across the bar to her.

That baffled look is back as she pulls it toward her and takes a swallow. I can’t help following the curve of her long neck downward toward a pair of large round tits perfectly outlined by her snug, low-cut T-shirt. She is definitely hot, and if we’re on the same page, then I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. She wants me to fuck her till she screams? I’m perfectly capable of that. She sets her drink down and catches me staring. She cuts me that wicked smile again, causing my cock to stir. I return the smile, sending the innuendo right back at her.

She props her elbows onto the bar and leans forward, giving me a clear look down her shirt. “Considering that we’ve never met before, I don’t find that surprising.”

I’m so absorbed in images of my face buried in those magnificent tits that it takes me a second to process what she said.

My eyes snap to hers. “Wait…what?”

She reaches across the bar, offering me a hand. “Lilah.”

There’s a full second all I can do is stare, wondering if this is one of those split personality things you hear about sometimes. And in that second, through the dim lighting, I take in all the tiny details—a dark mole at the outer corner of her right eye; her eyes, silver instead of blue; the missing white crescent-shaped scar above Destiny’s right eyebrow; and lips, a little fuller than I remember—which are smirking at me now.

“You’re not Destiny,” I say as it all clicks.

It’s not a question, but she shakes her head. “No. I am most definitely not Destiny.”

“Twins?” I ask.

She cocks her head playfully. “What do you think?”

“You’ve got to be. You’re fucking identical except for the eyes.” I tap my forehead. “And you’re missing a scar.”

Her perfect blond eyebrow raises in amusement. “She’s the pretty one and I’m the smart one.”

I bark out a laugh as I reach across and shake her hand. “Bran Silo. Good to meet you.”

She doesn’t let go of my hand for a second after we’re done shaking—just long enough to send a clear message that she’s interested.

A knot forms in my gut, and I realize it’s guilt. Destiny and I have an understanding, but regardless, I’m pretty sure fucking her sister would be way outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior. Not that anyone would ever mistake me for a gentleman. “Destiny never mentioned she had a sister.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She takes another drink, nearly polishing it off in a few big gulps.

I tip my head at it her glass. “Another?”

“My limit is one,” she says, pushing her glass toward me. “Just Coke this time, thanks.”

Carol sweeps by on her way to the kitchen, dropping an order on my bar. “Thought you left,” she says to Lilah without slowing down. “Careful or your favorite customer might ask for you,” she adds, jerking her head at Mr. Hendricks as she disappears through the swinging door.

I bark out a laugh as I scoop ice into Lilah’s glass and fill it with Coke. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

Lilah shrugs. “Happens all the time.” She slides out of her chair, lifting the guitar case. “So do you want to hear me play or what?”

I look around the crowded room, loud with chatter, drowning out the background music. “We don’t generally have live entertainment,” I say, which is really an understatement. We’ve never had live entertainment. But for some reason, I’m not willing to shut Lilah down so fast.

When my eyes find her again, annoyed impatience shines loud and clear out of her gaze. “So that’s a no?”

I feel my mouth pull into a cocky half-smile. “I didn’t say that.”

She opens her case and pulls out her guitar, unabashedly climbing through the window I left ajar for her. I watch as she sets herself up on the stool and rests the guitar in her lap, gripping it softly but confidently. She starts strumming, and I expect her to be discrete, since this is basically an audition, but there’s not a shred of self-consciousness or embarrassment anywhere in her disposition as she begins to belt out lyrics—an old No Doubt song that I can’t remember the name of.

The way she plays, as if on instinct; the passion in her voice, and the fact that she’s really fucking good, starts to turn heads at the tables closest to us. As they quiet and listen, more tables still, and soon the only thing she’s competing to be heard over is the Kat Country on the speakers. But she doesn’t decrease her volume. If anything, as eyes find her, she becomes louder, feeding off the attention.

I reach under the bar and click off the stereo, then lean onto the back counter and cross my arms, listening as she finishes one song and launches into the next.

A guy at the bar pulls a five from his pocket and flags me down with it. I grab his beer mug, but he shakes his head. “Is there a tip jar?” he asks with a nod toward Lilah.

I pull a fresh mug from under the bar and he slips the five inside, then I set it at the end of the bar near Lilah. She cuts me a smile and her eyes slide down my body as she sings.

And fuck me. I lean my hands on the bar and press against the lower counter when my dick won’t yield to my will. Without a doubt, everything Destiny has going on, Lilah’s got that and more.

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Blog Tour for Chelsea M. Cameron and the Fall and Rise series

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Trish Grant is not a romantic. Okay, so she may read her share of romance novels, but that doesn’t mean she thinks that some fellow with a six pack is going to ride up on a horse and sweep her (literally) off her feet. Romance like that just isn’t for her. It belongs on the page.

Max Jackson noticed Trish at his cousin’s funeral, of all places. She was hard to miss with her citrus-colored hair, violet contacts and fiery attitude.

Trish was just as captivated by Max. He makes her laugh, which is rare, and it doesn’t hurt that he rocks blue hair and the most killer smirk that drives her crazy. Max is there for her during a rough time and even if she wanted to, she can’t shake him.
There are things about Trish that Max doesn’t know, and she’s not going to tell him. She hasn’t told anyone and doesn’t plan on it, thank you very much. But when Trish’s life is ripped apart by a dark piece of her past, will she let Max in? Or will she give up her potential fairytale to protect her already-scarred heart from further damage?
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PREVIOUS TITLES IN THE SERIES

DEEPER WE FALL (book #1)
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BOOK BLURB:
Two years after her best friend was involved in a car accident that caused a traumatic brain injury, Lottie Anders is ready to start her freshman year of college. Ready to move on. Ready to start forgetting the night that ripped her life apart.

Her plans come to a screeching halt when not one, but both brothers responsible for the accident end up back in her life again.

Zack is cruel, selfish and constantly rubbing what happened to her friend in Lottie’s face.

Zan is different. He listens to her awkward ramblings. He loves To Kill a Mockingbird as much as she does, and his dark eyes are irresistible. His words are few and far between, but when he does speak, she can’t help but listen.

The trouble is, Zan was the driver in the accident, and now Lottie’s discovered he lied to her about what happened that night. Now she must decide if trusting him again will lead to real forgiveness, or deeper heartache.

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———————-

FASTER WE BURN (book #2)
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Katie Hallman is done with douchebags. Done with guys who treat her like crap and leave her broken. But then Stryker Grant is there anyway. With his numerous piercings and bleached hair, he’s the polar opposite of all of her past relationships, which makes him the perfect candidate.

At first, Katie just sees him as a physical escape from her previous rocky relationship, and Stryker doesn’t seem to mind just being a distraction from Katie’s problems. But soon he’s getting under her skin, peeling back layers she’d rather keep covered. She tries to make it clear that she doesn’t want a relationship, but keeps breaking her own rules.

Then a tragedy sends Katie into the only arms who are there to catch her, and she’ll realize that she needs him more than she ever thought possible. But is she ready to let herself trust another guy with her already-battered heart? Or will she push him away to protect herself from getting hurt again?

 


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SLOWLY WE TRUST (book #3)
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BOOK BLURB:

Audrey Valdez didn’t mean to fall for Will Anders. He isn’t her type. At all. But his goofy smile, Star Wars quotes and athletic body make it impossible. She’s lived so long in the darkness and Will is like the sun. He makes her laugh more than she has in years and cares for her more than her own family.

But there are things about Audrey that Will doesn’t know, things he can’t know. She tries to push him away, but he just ends up getting closer to her, and to her secret. Is the risk of losing him forever worth the chance a being with the only person she’s ever loved who has loved her back?

Amazon:   http://amzn.to/PwUCCV

B&N:  http://bit.ly/1jILsLN

 

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Review/Excerpt Tour for BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE by Jay Crownover

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About BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE:

In New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jay Crownover’s third novel in her sexy, thrilling Welcome to the Point series, a woman’s search for repentance leads her to the one man from her past she can’t forget as they join forces to save their city—and the explosive love neither can live without.

Titus King sees the world in black and white. Right and wrong. Which is why as a teenager he left behind the only family he’d ever known to make a better life for himself. Now a police detective in one of the worst cities in the country, he can’t deny his life has turned into a million different shades of gray.

The new criminal element in The Point has brought vengeance and destruction right to Titus’s front door, and the difference between right and wrong is nothing compared to keeping those he loves alive. To add to his already strained moral compass, the beautiful and mysterious Reeve Black has made her way back to town, and she might be as dangerous to Titus as the guy trying to destroy the Point because he needs her—in more ways than one.

Reeve knows all about how ruthless this new threat to destroy The Point can be… and instead of running away, she wants to help. She has a lot to repent for and saving the city, plus the hot cop that she hasn’t been able to forget might just be the only way she can finally find some inner peace.

With an entire city poised on the brink of war, Titus and Reeve stand in the crossfire—and it will take two brave souls to fight for the ultimate love.

Excerpt:

“Everyone has a breaking point.”

I sounded gruff and really had to concentrate on getting the words out because she leaned forward and her lips hit right below my ear on my rough jaw. Her teeth started to nibble and her tongue lapped a long wet trail all the way up behind my ear where she breathed, “I would love to see you when you reach yours.”

She curled a hand around the back of my neck and rubbed her cheek against mine. When I let my monster have at her, it took in giant mouthfuls, gobbled her up, and tried to burn as fast and as hot as the pleasure would allow. She wasn’t kidding when she said hers needed to be soothed. Every move she made was deliberate, erotic. We touched everywhere and somehow it was more intimate than all the times I had been inside of her over the last month. She brushed her chest against my own and I decided the playing field needed to level out a little, so I hooked my hands under her shirt and lifted it up off over her head. Her hair fell back down around us like a dark curtain and I grabbed her face so I could kiss her. She blinked at me with big eyes and smiled.

“You are the only one that sees it, over and over again. You were the breaking point from the moment you walked in the door to tell me you helped Novak grab Dovie. I wanted to be disgusted, to hate you, but I didn’t. I thought you were beautiful and resilient. You seemed so misguided and lost, and even then I wanted to get you naked and fuck you on my desk.”

Her face lowered to mine and our lips touched just a tiny bit. One of her hands skated down the center of my chest and landed on my belt buckle. I reciprocated by popping the clasp on the back of her bra and pulling it out of my way.

“You should’ve tried. I would’ve let you.” The words danced across my lips and somewhere in the center of my chest an animal howled in delight. That was what was missing in my life. Someone that appreciated all the sacrifice, the hard choices I had made to become the man I was, but who could also appreciate the fucked-up kid I had been.

 

 

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iTunes

And don’t miss the previous books in The Point Series!

Better WhenHe's BadBetter When Hes Bold

BETTER WHEN HE’S BAD

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BETTER WHEN HE’S BOLD

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About Jay Crownover:

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Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she’ll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.

Links:

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BETTER WHEN HE’S BRAVE Goodreads ** Jay Crownover Goodreads

 

Ruthless Blog Tour

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Ruthless Synopsis:

Two years out of college, Angelica Bondesan spends her time working as a barista, keeping in touch with her prodigal brother, and trying to figure out how to bridge the gap with her father, a wealthy real estate developer.  

But all of that changes the night shes kidnapped. Thrown into a windowless room, Angelica is positive theres been some kind of mistake until she meets Nico Vitale.  

Gorgeous and frightening, Nico became the boss of New York Citys Vitale crime family after the execution style murder of his parents two years earlier. Since then hes turned the old-school mob into a sleek, modern army of ruthless men who understand that physical violence while always an option isnt the only way to get what you want.  

Now Angel is forced to face the truth;

Her father is not the man she believed him to be.

Nico Vitale is dangerous, possibly lethal.  

She is falling in love with Nico Vitale.

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Blurbs 

“From page one you’re hooked and sucked into this corrupt thrilling world. A masterful romance of deep dark suspense, complicated emotions, and exciting action.” – New York Times bestseller, M.J. Rose

 

 

Michelle St. James Bio:

Michelle St. James aka Michelle Zink is the author of seven published books and six novellas. Her first series, Prophecy of the Sisters (YA), was one of Booklist’s Top Ten Debut novels. Her work has also been an Indie Next selection and has appeared on prestigious lists such as the Lonestar List, New York Public Library’s Stuff for the Teen Age, and Chicago Public Library’s Best of the Best. Her character, Alice, won the Teen Read Awards for Best Villain against Harry Potter’s Lord Voldemort.

 

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Buy Links:

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Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/authormichellestjames?ref=hl

 

Twitter; https://twitter.com/MStJames_Author

 

Goodreads; https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7520492.Michelle_St_James

 

Instagram; https://instagram.com/michellezink/

 

Website; http://michellestjames.com

Release Week Blitz for EVERY LAST BREATH by Jennifer L. Armentrout

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EVERY LAST BREATH Synopsis:

Some loves will last ‘til your dying breath
Every choice has consequences—but seventeen-year-old Layla faces tougher choices than most. Light or darkness. Wickedly sexy demon prince Roth, or Zayne, the gorgeous, protective Warden she never thought could be hers. Hardest of all, Layla has to decide which side of herself to trust.
Layla has a new problem, too. A Lilin—the deadliest of demons—has been unleashed, wreaking havoc on those around her…including her best friend. To keep Sam from a fate much, much worse than death, Layla must strike a deal with the enemy while saving her city—and her race—from destruction.
Torn between two worlds and two different boys, Layla has no certainties, least of all survival, especially when an old bargain comes back to haunt them all. But sometimes, when secrets are everywhere and the truth seems unknowable, you have to listen to your heart, pick a side—and then fight like hell…

“Armentrout is a major talent…I just can’t stop reading!”

New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter

“Armentrout works her magic with swoon-worthy guys and a twist you never see coming.”

–#1 New York Times bestselling author Abbi Glines on White Hot Kiss

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EVERY LAST BREATH Buy Links:

Amazon ** Barnes and Noble ** iBooks ** IndieBound ** Kobo ** BAM

 

EVERY LAST BREATH Trailer LinkHere

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EVERY LAST BREATH Excerpt:

Roth cleared his throat. “Shortie, look…look at your hand.”

Look at my hand? Why in the world would he be asking me to do that in the midst of all the cray?

“Do it,” he said quietly and too gently.

The dread exploded in my gut like buckshot, and my gaze dropped to my left hand. I expected to see the weird marbling of black and gray, a mixture of the demon and Warden that existed inside of me and a combination I’d become almost familiar with by now. My nails had lengthened and sharpened, and I could tell they were hard enough to cut through steel, as hard as my skin, but my skin…it was still pink. Really pink.

“What the…?” My gaze traveled to my other hand. It was the same. Just pink. My wings twitched, reminding me that I had shifted.

Zayne swallowed. “Your…your wings…”

What about my wings?” I almost screeched, reaching be‑ hind me. “Are they broken? Did they not come out—” The tips of my fingers came into contact with something as soft as silk. My hand jerked back. “What…”

Stacey’s watery eyes had doubled in size. “Um, Layla, there’s a mirror above the fireplace. I think you need to look in it.”

I met Roth’s gaze for a second before I spun around and all but ran to the fireplace I was sure Stacey’s mom had never used. Clutching the white mantel, I stared at my reflection.

I looked normal, like I did before I shifted…like I was going to class or something. My eyes were the palest shade of gray, a watered-down blue. My hair was so blond it was almost white, and a mess of waves that went in every direction like usual. I looked like a colorless china doll, which was nothing new, except for the two fangs jutting out of my mouth. I wouldn’t show them off at school, but that wasn’t what caught my attention and held it.

It was my wings.

They were large, not as massive as Zayne’s or Roth’s, and normally they were almost leathery in texture, but now they were black…black and feathered. Like legit feathered. That soft, silky thing I’d felt? It had been tiny feathers.

Feathers.

“Oh my God,” I whispered at my reflection. “I have feathers.”

“Those are definitely feathered wings,” Roth commented.

I whipped around, knocking over a lamp with my feathered right wing. “I have feathers on my wings!”

Roth cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, you do.”

He was absolutely no help, so I turned to Zayne. “Why do I have feathers on my wings?”

Zayne shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Layla. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Liar,” hissed Roth, shooting him a dark look. “You’ve seen that before. So have I.”

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And don’t miss the first titles in the Dark Elements Series!

BITTER SWEET LOVE

Amazon ** Barnes and Noble ** iBooks ** BAM ** Kobo

WHITE HOT KISS

Amazon ** Barnes and Noble ** BAM ** iBooks ** IndieBound ** Kobo

STONE COLD TOUCH

Amazon ** Barnes and Noble ** iBooks ** IndieBound ** Kobo ** BAM

About Jennifer L. Armentrout:

JLA_Author-photo

# 1 New York Times and # 1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki.

Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA.

She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

Links:

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Novel Goodreads ** Author Goodreads