Thursday, August 31, 2017

Emerge: The Captive by Melissa A. Craven book blitz!

Autumn’s Dance by Sarah Gai book blitz


Autumn’s Dance
Sarah Gai
(Season Named, #1)
Publication date: February 14th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
“A story that captures your heart and continues you thinking about it long after you fall asleep.”
Autumn Nash lives a nomadic existence with her harvest-travelling father, except every summer when they return to one place like clockwork…Ligonier, PA. But this season, Autumn meets a young man who changes her world and makes her long for more.
Eric Foster has been sent to stay the summer in Ligonier with his grandfather in hopes of altering his path as his life spirals downward. His direction changes the moment he sees Autumn; he knows his very reason for breathing is solely to be with her.
When Autumn is ripped away from Ligonier, she leaves Eric confused and devastated that their time is over. Both teens struggle through the years gone by without the other. Will Autumn ever see the boy who changed her life again? Will Eric wait for her? Will Autumn ever make it back to Ligonier? And what will happen when buried secrets surface?
Discover a love that takes you back to what it’s all about—the confusing, yet simplistic, beginnings of falling in love and watch it evolve into something that takes your breath away.
‘Autumn’s Dance can be read as a standalone or part of The Season Named Series’
Grab your copy for 99¢ for a limited time only!


Author Bio:
So this is me in short. I'm plus size and completely adorable (or so my husbands tells me) A momma of three princes who light my world. I drink way too much coffee, chocolate is a staple. I love to write after midnight and my love for short stories will never fade. With such a limited amount of time to enjoy quiet writing, I have mastered the skills of fitting a lot into a small amount of pages. Humour keeps me smiling and well.. if you've read my books you'll know that I put a lot of myself into the characters. And to answer your questions. My best friends and I forgot the part about growing up and love every minute of it. Aside from writing I also run a publication IndieLove Magazine, promoting Indie Awesomes from a range of fields and professions. Check it out at www.indielovemagazine.com
In 2017 I will be saying goodbye to Chick lit for a while and heading into Contemporary Romance. I hate to be put in a box! Join my street team at www.sarahgai.com and come have some fun!
Love to all xo.
Wanting to write for all the women out there who want a good short read about strong friendships, romance and body positive, love the skin you're in kind of fiction. Check out http://Facebook.com/sarahgaiauthor or www.sarahgai.com

Cover reveal : Sure Thing by Jana Aston, designed by Kari March


Sure Thing
Jana Aston
Publication date: October 10th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
 designed by Kari March
A new STANDALONE romance from New York Times bestselling author Jana Aston
Have you ever set out to have a one night stand with a sexy stranger?
No? I’m the only one?
Just kidding, I would never.
Ever.
Not usually.
But then I figured, why not? My entire life I’ve been good and it’s gotten me nowhere.
No job.
No apartment.
No boyfriend.
I’m owed a little fun, aren’t I? A reward for being good.
Sure, a new pair of shoes would be more appropriate, but Mr. Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven’t taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.
Except…
You know that saying about best-laid plans?
Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry.
Like my one night stand…


Author Bio:
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she's ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples.

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Lilliana Rose - Flower Predictions - PROMO Blitz


Fantasy/Romance
Date Published: August 2017

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Thinking Triena would be safer without him, Braklen leaves her. Now a wanted criminal, Braklen puts as much distance between him, Triena and the Queens by taking up a job on a smuggling ship. He throws himself into his work to forget about the guilt building inside of him for leaving Triena as well as the love he has for her.

Triena is alone, her rabbit stolen from her, and the Energy is behaving in unexpected ways making it difficult for her to predict the future. Her love for Braklen is strong and she sets out to find him, while trying to keep away from the Queens. With no other option she takes passage with Captain Ri who forces her to use the Energy for his own benefits.

Will she be able to find her beloved rabbit, and Braklen, before the Queens find and destroy her?


Other Books in the Flower Readings Series:


Flower Readings, Book One
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Published May 2017

Triena lives on an outback moon earning a living by offering flower readings for customers. Cast out from the Queens, the Energy Readers, Triena wants to return, but the only way to do that is to kill Braklen and use his energy to look into the future.

Braklen, a Peacekeeper with the Queens, arrives at the Triena’s Tea House. He doesn’t realize the danger he is in when he sits down for a flower reading.

Triena sees her chance to kill Braklen by using the potency in flower buds. The Energy guides her hand, and instead, the suppressed feelings toward Braklen surface.

Can she kill the man she loves?


Excerpt

Braklen looked down into the bowl full of gray something that was meant to be food.
“I wouldn’t eat that, man,” said a fellow evening-shift worker sitting opposite Braklen.
Despite the warning, Braklen dunked a spoon into the thick broth. “Can’t be too bad.” He spooned the greasy liquid with gray floating bits into his mouth. He choked.
The other man laughed, slapping his hand down on the metal table. “You’ll get used to it.”
Braklen coughed as the last of the liquid went down. “Tastes like jet fuel.”
“Wouldn’t put it past the cook to put some in. He probably thinks that it’d give us a boost to work harder.”
“How can you eat it?” Braklen’s spoon was poised above the liquid, but he couldn’t bring himself to take another mouthful. This was a long-haul flight and the bowl of slop was the only thing to eat. He’d just finished a twelve-hour shift in the engine room trying to repair the electronics in the backup system that were so worn out and old, it should’ve been thrown out instead. It was the first ship that accepted his qualifications as a mechanical engineer. He’d boarded, wanting to get as far away as possible from Triena.
His heart lurched, skipping beats, then contracting, causing pain to spread out across his chest. He knew he shouldn’t have boarded, or left her unconscious on the ground. But, since the chip had been deactivated, there was no point hanging around. She didn’t really want me there, not really.
The guy shrugged his shoulders, scrapping the last of the broth onto the spoon and delivered it into his mouth. “I’m already pretty thin. I’ll fade away if I don’t eat.”
Braklen laughed. “Hasn’t anyone complained?”
His men put up with a lot when he was in charge but he would’ve had an uprising if they’d ever had this food from the galley. Emptiness clawed at his gut at the reminder he didn’t command a unit of Peacekeepers anymore. Worse, he was now a wanted man.
He’d contemplated taking Triena with him, turning her in to the authorities and begging to be reinstated. But, much as he wanted his life back, that wasn’t an option. It was clear he’d been set up, a pawn for them to use to get to her. She’ll be better off without me. Safer without me.


About the Author


Lilliana Rose enjoys creating worlds for her characters to play in and fall in love. Check out more of her work, www.lillianarose.com

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Weston Sullivan - Just Off The Path - Pre-Order Week Blitz



Fantasy
Date Published: September 5, 2017

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Hansel never asked to be a hero. He never wanted to fall in love with Rapunzel, Queen of the East. He didn’t ask to be raised by Gothel the Wretch, and he certainly never wanted to be credited for her arrest. But more than any of that, Hansel never wanted to lie: but he did. He lied about everything. He thought that he was done with it all when he and his sister Gretel retreated into the woods to reclaim their land, but he should have known better.

Years later, Rapunzel’s guards knock at his door, and they say the words he hoped that he would never hear: Gothel has escaped. As he and Gretel take refuge inside Rapunzel’s castle in the eastern capitol of Hildebrand, Hansel is thrust back into everything he never wanted in the first place: his lies, his legend, and his lust. In the wake of it all, he knows that Gothel has escaped to finish what she started. She is out to make sure that the Sleeping Beauty never wakes, and that Grimm suffocates under her blanket of thorn and vine. In order to find Gothel and save the kingdom, Hansel and Gretel must look for fact in a land of fairy-tale by following a trail of grisly murders, a girl in a red cape, and a powerful little man who can’t stand the sound of his own name.

As they search for answers, Hansel finds that he isn’t the only liar in Grimm, and that there may be a traitor among them of royal proportion.


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Excerpt

The winter storm began with a scream that split the trees. It echoed throughout the woods and birds fled into the sky, disappearing like smoke behind gray clouds. Hansel looked off in the direction of the disturbance—but it was silent again. There was something menacing about the renewed absence of life that hung over him. He strung his bow, keeping it close to his side, and surveyed the area around him. He was met only with the familiar stillness of the trees and dead foliage beneath.
“We should go,” he said, trying to disguise the urgency in his voice.
His sister, Gretel, hesitated. “Someone screamed.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why we need to go.”
Gretel scanned the tree line and ran her fingers through her hair. Grabbing her hand, Hansel pulled her in the direction they’d come from. The woods were dangerous, especially on the cusp of winter. They were close to the Southern Thickets—the part of the forest overrun with briar and weed, where all of Grimm’s most dangerous creatures lived—and Hansel knew that if someone was screaming, they had a good reason.
They made their way back to The Path in silence. Hansel was wary of crunching leaves under his boot, afraid to wake the forest. Seconds after they turned around, he felt something whiz past him on both sides of his head. He hoped they were fireflies, bustling about the tops of trees, cutting through the coldness that crept over them. He followed the sparkling speckles with his eyes. They moved with purpose, cracking branches and creasing clouds, spinning wildly. Hansel was probably the only person in Grimm who was ever disappointed to see a flock of fairies, but fireflies meant it was summer, and he longed to see summer again.
Before they blinked out of sight, they spoke to him. Tens of wistful, unison whispers in his ears said: Help…the girl needs help. Hansel looked at Gretel, wondering if she heard them, too. He didn’t have to ask. She bounded back in the opposite direction and drew the skinning knife she kept sheathed at her waist. Hansel cursed, taking off after her. No sooner than he’d kicked off the ground, another mortifying scream shook the woods. He followed close behind Gretel, dodging trees and leaping over the underbrush. There was a third scream, and then a fourth; louder and closer than any before.
He didn’t know what to do. As they ran, the woods shrank around them until the sun no longer broke through the gaps between the trees. Hansel knew they were going to die. No one made it deep into the thickets and lived. It was home to godless monsters; giants, goblins—the creatures of the dark who scarcely bothered with humans, until they were crossed. Hansel struggled to keep up with his sister. Where he was cautious, she was fearless, and where she was cautious, he was safest. He looked up and was surprised to see hundreds of fairies lighting their path. Each second, more poured in from the sky until there was an army over them.
Gretel stopped abruptly, causing Hansel to trip and roll a few steps downhill. He didn’t think long enough to register pain. As he found his footing, Gretel climbed down the incline and stood beside him. His first instinct was to go back the way they’d come, but he was awestruck. They stood on the threshold of life and death, where the woods became the Southern Thickets. It was like a scar across the ground, stretching from one end of the world to the next, a final warning to those brave enough to pass into the curse. Even the fairies were still, their glow dimmed by the wicked magic ahead.
Hansel was relieved to see that there were no longer trees; they’d been replaced by a wall of bramble, too large and thick to allow passage. They were surrounded by the purplish-blue tint of twilight, thorns as sharp as daggers to their throats in front of them and crooked, mossy trees behind them. Once, when Hansel lived in the city, he’d visited his parents’ corpses in the graveyard. They were buried in a public sepulcher maintained by the city to ensure that if a family was unwilling or unable to buy a plot for their deceased, their corpses wouldn’t be left to rot and attract the attention of wildlife. Standing just before the thickets reminded Hansel of that day—the day when he stood at the maw of death and was so close he could feel himself slipping away.
Gretel looked behind them. Hansel hoped she’d given up, and maybe she had. He almost smiled. But one final, thankless cry echoed past the briar, stirring the fairies. Gretel squinted, determined. That scream, Hansel knew, was the epitaph on their gravestones. The fairies swarmed them, and he was swallowed in a rainbow of color, cascading like a waterfall upon him. He couldn’t see anything but the swirling light of the fairy flock, spinning faster and faster around him, tugging at his shirt and creating a whirlwind. He felt weightless. His stomach churned and he felt dizzy. When the fairies cleared, he could see why—he was high in the air, flying over the Southern Thickets.
For a moment, he forgot about the screams and that he was headed into danger. He was soaring. Gretel was flying just below him, her arms spread wide, her hair flailing. Seeing Grimm from the air was both breathtaking and appalling. He expected to see the land as it once was, alive and vibrant. Instead, it was a sickly beige with winter and the end of the curse. The world around them was devoid of life. Most of the animals had fled years earlier, knowing the world was about to change, and those that remained were tucked safely away somewhere beneath them.
The thickets looked exactly as he’d always imagined. From above, he saw nothing but briar and bramble etched across the uneven terrain. They gained speed, and the cold air blasted his cheeks. He was grateful to have the cold in that moment to waken his senses and remind him that he was still alive, that he and Gretel were in danger. He sucked in a breath as they flew farther away from home, and against the still-setting sun that formed the silhouette of a castle, jagged and broken. The Sleeping Castle—he knew it from legend—the home where the rightful royalty of Grimm still rested, dead to the world but not in definition, suffering eternally at the hands of a vengeful witch. All he could make out was one tower, freed from the clutches of the thorn like the arm of an old beggar, trying to hoist himself out of the darkness. The top of the tower stuck at a point against the sunlight like a bony finger fighting for liberation.
It felt like they were flying only moments before he felt himself descending. Hansel looked below. There was a tiny clearing in the briar—a hole in the patchwork—and inside that hole he saw a spot of red. His eyes widened when he realized what was happening; it was a little girl, and she was running for her life. Sooner than he anticipated, the fairies dropped him and he fell into the clearing. They placed Gretel gracefully on the ground next to him and charged back up into the sky in one harmonious motion, disappearing into the briar. The girl stared at them in wonder, Hansel standing close to Gretel. It was suddenly dark, and Hansel knew it was because they were in a place so sinister that even the sunlight refused to pass through. The girl Hansel had seen from the sky was covered in bloody scratches, as if she’d been running through the thorns. Her face was dirty and streaked in muddy tears. She tried to speak to them, but she was silenced by the rustling of the vines behind her.
She yelped, running to them for help. Gretel took her in her arms and cupped her hand over her mouth, quieting her. Hansel trembled, pulling the bowstring back so far he worried it would snap. The figure of a large man appeared on the other side of the curtain of briar, causing the girl to cry harder. He made his best attempt to look imposing, but he was frightened. The man stepped into the clearing, dressed all in black, his hood casting a shadow over his face so that all Hansel could see was a pair of dull, white eyes. At first, Hansel thought the red-orange coating on the figure’s machete was rust, but as the man moved closer, he recognized it as the color of dried blood.
“Who are you?” Hansel asked.
It was like standing in front of death itself—silent, ominous, and terrifying.
Hansel stood rigid, his arrow pointed at the man’s chest. He hated the idea of killing someone, but he knew that his bow would take action before his head did if it was given the opportunity. The man’s chest rose, fell, but didn’t rise again. That was when Hansel knew it was time to let go of the string. It was too late. The hooded figure leaped out of the way just before the arrow left the bow, and as Hansel went to re-string it, he disappeared back into the thickets. Hansel stretched his bow into a V and focused his aim, in case the man returned.
Gretel helped the girl to her feet. “Are you all right?”
She wore a bright cloak that canvassed her body like a suit of armor, bright yet all-concealing. Hansel didn’t know what to make of her. She embodied adolescence, but exuded effortless maturity as if at war with herself. Wine and wildflowers protruded from her basket, peeking surreptitiously back at him. She was a walking contradiction, and that made him anxious.
“I think so,” the girl replied, using her cloak, which was made of some sort of fabric that Hansel couldn’t name but knew was expensive, to wipe her face. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Who was that man?” Hansel asked.
The girl hesitated. She stepped beside Hansel and followed his gaze out into the thickets.
“He was no man,” she said. “He was a wolf.”
“A wolf?” Hansel asked.
She nodded. “He walks like a man, but he’s a wolf, I swear to it. He tackled me back there and started sniffing me and snarling like a beast. His breath smells like dung and whiskey. It frightened me, so I ran off.”
Hansel and Gretel exchanged looks. Gretel furrowed her brows, dumbstruck.
“But why did he come after you?” Gretel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Hansel asked. “How do you not know? Do you find you’re often being chased by hooded man-wolves, or is today a special day?”
The girl seemed put off by the question. “Do you normally fly with the fairies?”
“Of course not,” Hansel said.
“So today must be special for all of us,” she said, slyly.
Gretel broke the tension. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Ceara,” the girl replied with a smile that soured Hansel’s mood. She spoke to no one in particular. “But some people call me Little Red Cap because of my cape. It’s made of the finest silk in the East.” She offered the tail of her cape to them.
Gretel reached her hand out and felt the fabric, rubbing it between her fingers. “It’s lovely,” she mumbled.
“My gran made it for me when I was younger. I was always running about in the woods and she worried I would get lost. That’s why the cape is red…I’m easier to spot that way.”
Hansel dropped the bow to his side. It just so happened that he and Gretel knew quite a bit about being lost in the woods.
“Do you know how to get back to The Path from here?” he asked Ceara.
The Path was the clearest, safest route through the woods. It was a trail worn in the grass by the boots of travelers and kings alike; a clear, oppressive force that divided Grimm into four regions. The Path was the safest, most direct route to any place in the entire kingdom.
Ceara’s smile faded. She wiped the tears from her face, using her cloak to remove the dirt from her cheeks. “Of course I do,” she said, gesturing toward the vines. “It’s just a few steps this way.”
“You mean through the thorns?” Hansel asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Unless you plan on asking the fairies for another lift, there’s really no other way.”
“I thought it was impossible to pass through the thickets.” As he spoke, he stared at the thorns. He imagined slicing his leg open, or accidentally impaling himself. He squirmed.
Ceara giggled at him. “Just because the whole kingdom says it’s impossible, doesn’t mean it is.”
Gretel laughed at him as well, shrugging as she passed him. Ceara parted the vines carefully and let Gretel pass through. After Gretel disappeared into the thickets, Ceara held the vines apart for him. “Go on.”
Right then, Hansel knew he wasn’t going to like Ceara.

About the Author


Weston Sullivan lives and writes in Tampa, Florida. He spends his days splitting time between writing, a full time job, and studying for his degree in Creative Writing from the University of South Florida. He enjoys everything related to storytelling, including film and theater. He likes to read all genres, from contemporary fiction to classic favorites such as Faulkner and Woolf. After he finishes his undergraduate coursework and continues to build his career as an author, he plans to attend graduate school in New York City.

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The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride by Laurie LeClair book blitz


The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride
Laurie LeClair
(The McCall Brothers, #3)
Published by: Tule Publishing
Publication date: August 24th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance
When Dallas society bride Elizabeth Eve Barrington discovers her intended’s financial ulterior motives for marriage, she hightails it out of the church in her wedding gown and hops in the back of a parked and beat-up pickup truck.
Happy to leave the big city, sexy cowboy Connor McCall jumps in his truck, revs up his engine, and then heads home to Honor, Texas with the goal of saving his family’s failing ranch. Hours later and miles down country roads, Connor discovers the stowaway bride, and he’s pretty sure she’s feigning amnesia.
What’s a cowboy to do? Cowboy up, of course. He takes Eve home, determined to solve her mystery. What he discovers is a lot of smoke–and where there’s smoke, there’s fire, with the heat generating between them hot enough to burn. Will Connor be damned if he falls for the beautiful runaway bride or will he be damned if he doesn’t?
EXCERPT:
“Look at that, Gramps. Another sucker getting hitched.” Conner McCall sat behind the wheel of his old truck in the thick, Saturday Dallas traffic.
He nodded to the long line of sleek, black limos clogging the opposite side of the lane as they inched down the busy city street.
Horns honked at the entourage taking up nearly a block and not allowing anyone to pull in or out. A few colorful shouts peppered the warm, summer air. People on the sidewalks stopped and stared.
“Pretty fancy stuff, if you ask me.” Gramps, with one hand securely on his sleeping pet miniature horse, Sweet Potato, craned his neck to see. “Maybe that will be you soon. Following in the footsteps of Cody and Caleb.”
“Oh, no. My brothers may have succumbed, but not me. Not yet. I have a long, long way to go before I settle down.” If ever. “First, we make it through this season and then we get the McCall ranch secure for the future.”
“From your lips to God’s ears. About the ol’ homestead, that is. But, you. I want for you what your Grams and I had and what your brothers found.”
“Not likely.” Conner had strong doubts their small town of Honor, Texas could provide the love of his life. Most likely he’d never find her. A little pang hit his ribs.
How many girls did he know who wanted to work and toil away on a ranch for decades to come? None he knew. And you can’t separate a cowboy from his horse, either. Not this one, at least.
Some had tried. None had succeeded. And never would.
He’d come dang close once, though, three years ago. Somewhere along the line, Conner finally figured out he’d always be her second best. Not getting stomped on again by some girl who fancies herself a cowboy for a rebound romance.
Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be for him. The love part. Somewhere deep inside, he worried he’d end up falling head over heels and losing her—like Gramps did with Grams. Conner didn’t think he could stand the crushing pain. Better to not even go there…
“Miss Peaches is single.”
His grandfather’s suggestion made him laugh. “She’s older than you, Gramps.”
“Her sister Clementine?”
Conner shook his head at his grandfather’s antics. “Not of child bearing age, may I remind you. No great-grands there.”
They shared a chuckle.
“Scratch them off the list.” Gramps grabbed an invisible pencil from behind his ear and made a horizontal line in the air.
“No matchmaking, understand?”
“Me? Why I let Cody and Caleb make up their minds, didn’t I?”
“Not that you didn’t help their romances along.”
“Now, I didn’t say that.” He admitted what they’d all known.
“Gramps, you’re a romantic at heart. Do me a favor and don’t butt in when it comes to me.” Pestering him about finding someone might just be on the top of Gramps’s list now that Conner’s brothers had tied the knot recently.
“If you say so, Conn.” Gramps sighed.
“We’ve got better things to concentrate on. I think we need to get an in with the biggest grocery store chain in Texas. We get a contract and a decent price, we can hold on to the ranch. It’s a guaranteed future income. Maybe even stop talking and start doing that more resilient breed of cattle you’ve always wanted.”
“You’re talking my language there. I like that. No exclusives, though. We need some options open. Plus, we don’t want to stop supplying the local restaurants in our own hometown. That breeding thing will take some time, though.”
The heat of the early afternoon drifted in through the open windows. And the heavy scent of fumes came with the breeze. Give Conner the country any day. “I’ve got the time and I can learn.”
“Son, hurt me something fierce when you had to drop out of college when Grams got sick.”
“Don’t dwell, Gramps. I’m working right where I want to be. The McCall ranch.” Taking care of his beloved grandfather, too, was right where Conner wanted to be.
“Light changed. They’re on the move. Uh, lookee there, must be the bride’s veil peeking out the window of the first one.”
Conner glanced in the side mirror. A gust of wind caught the sheer, white veil and sent it flying. He watched it float in the air. It landed in the crook between his truck and mirror. The lace-edged, delicate fabric fluttered and lifted.
Without thinking, he reached out, snatched it up, and then rolled it in a loose ball.
“Good catch, son.”
“I guess she’ll be wanting this back.” Conner shoved the gear in park and then undid his seat belt. “Be right back.”
In seconds, he popped open the door and then half ran down the street to catch the vehicle. His boots hit the asphalt with heavy thuds. The veil unfurled, streaming behind him. He gripped the bunched-up fabric he still held tighter. The red tail lights came on, sending a shot of relief through him.
This cowboy isn’t about to trot a mile though Dallas trailing her limo. That would be a sight to see.
He caught up to the shiny car and shoved the delicate material through the half open rear window. A feminine hand appeared at the same time, grabbed for it, and accidentally brushed her fingers along his wrist.
A current of electricity rushed through him.
Conner heard her loud gasp. She withdrew her hand instantly, along with the veil, reeling in the long fabric.
“Thank you.” Her soft voice whispered over him.
Low. Seductive. Or was the last just his imagination?
He could barely make out several shadowy figures in the dark interior before the power window rose. It shut with a smooth click.
Now, he only saw his wide eyes and slack jaw staring back at him in the reflection. He tipped his cowboy hat back and stepped away. The limo took off. The others followed.
Whoa! What the hell was that? He’d run into an electric fence with less charge than that and that was saying something.
The sound of his horn beeping over and over brought Conner back to the realization he stood in the middle of the street with moving cars charging by in front of him. Turning, he rushed back to Gramps and his truck, hopped in, slammed the door shut, and then shoved it into drive to keep up with the moving traffic.
His hand burned. He shook it, trying to rid himself of that feeling.
“You okay, Conn? About gave me a heart attack when they started up again.” Gramps calmed Sweet Potato, coming awake and rearing his head up. “Easy, little fella.”
Blowing out a breath, Conner shot his grandfather a grin, trying to smooth out the fresh worry lines gathered on the older man’s face. “Harder than dodging our charging cattle, Gramps. City folks. Never mind that, let’s get us some good barbecue before heading back home.”
“Now you’re talking. Just up ahead two blocks.” He smacked his lips. “Don’t tell your Uncle Jeb this place’s brisket is almost as good as his.”
“Not on your life. Aunt Sissy would have both our hides.”
Gramps chuckled along with him. “I appreciate you letting me ride along, son. Gives me some more time with you before you head out to the base camp tomorrow.”
“Good company. Long drive in the early hours. Picked up the part we needed—a little later and a little more than we wanted.” Conner cringed inwardly at that.
The ranch barely survived at the moment. If this season didn’t go well, they’d lose it all. Dread sat deep in his belly every time he thought about how they lived on the edge this last year. With his Grams dying, it rocked their world, especially Gramps, who kept too much from his three grandsons until it was almost too late.
Now, Caleb, Cody and he were doing everything in their power to save the family homestead and their legacy.
“Thought we’d have some daylight left to start fixing the trannie on the old rust bucket.” Conner shrugged and then quickly checked on the loose corner rope holding down the tarp covering the transmission. Tighten that baby up before we head out.
The last-minute repair on the ranch truck took more than a little coaxing this time. No, the part needed replacing and the closest place they could find the vintage model in Texas was Dallas.
Conner had volunteered since his two older brothers and their new brides either had second jobs outside the McCall ranch or were out on the range helping with the cattle. And their foreman and crew were too busy this time of year. Single, biding his time with packing up the last of the supplies to ride out on his horse tomorrow, he’d been the obvious choice.
“Should be home in time tonight to tuck in this little fella, though.” His voice held a smile. Gramps treated the miniature horse like a pet instead of a ranch animal.
“Don’t you be going and making wisecracks, too, Conn. I get enough of that from the others. He adopted me, not the other way around. You hear?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Just so we’re square and all.”
“Got it.”
The cars ahead stopped at the quick light. Connor braked. He glanced to the side mirror, half hoping to catch a glimpse of that limo and the mystery bride. No such luck. Nothing but trucks, cars, and SUVs chugged along—brakes squealing and exhaust coughing out the tail pipes.
She was gone.
A tiny rope of disappointment went through him.
You’re sick, McCall. She’s a bride on her wedding day. Her groom is waiting for her. Or she may have even gotten married already and he’s sitting beside her.
But he couldn’t forget the sound of her sharp intake of breath.
And the current that rushed through him…


Author Bio:
Bestselling author Laurie LeClair writes romantic comedies, contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and women’s fiction. Laurie has a not-so-secret love for characters who make her laugh, cry, and who linger in her mind long after the story ends. Laurie’s habit of daydreaming has gotten her into a few scrapes and launched her to take up her dream of writing. Finally, she can put all those stories in her head to rest as she brings them to life on the page.
Laurie loves to write, read, bake, travel, and discover new adventures. She considers herself a New Texan (New England born and raised and now living in Texas). She lives in Central Texas with her husband, Jim. Laurie loves to hear from her readers.

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Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Pre-Order Blitz of DIOMERE'S EXILE Sabrina A. Fish

Diomere's Exile Tour Graphic
We are delighted to announce the PRE-ORDER AVAILABILITY of Diomere's Exile by Sabrina A. Fish. Check it out and reserve your copy today.
Official release date: September 29, 2017.
Diomere's Exile
Series: The Gate Keeper Chronicles Book 1
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
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An exiled woman seeking redemption, and the man who distracts her from finding it.
Five Gates. Five Sisters. Five Very Different Men.
Once there were two worlds connected by five magical gates. Then the Gate Keepers closed the gates and disappeared. The Gate Keepers have returned.
Nadia de Quinones was exiled when her nephew, the crown-prince was abducted on her watch. She’ll let nothing stand in the way of her redemption, not even discovering her heartbonded and a connection to an ancient magical gate.
Lord Gregor Cyrene is sworn to protect his country's royal heirs. After the youngest prince’s life is threatened, Gregor sets out to discover who is responsible and suspects the answer lies with Nadia.
When fate forces their competing goals to align, neither are prepared for the irresistible attraction between them. Can they see beyond their pasts and a millennia old hate between their people? Or will they continue to distrust, allowing those plotting against them to win?

Giveaway

WIN $25 GIFT CARD AND MORE!
Diomere's Exile Giveaway Graphic
Prizes up for grabs:
$25 Gift Card (Winner's choice: Amazon or Barnes & Noble)
2 Diomere's Exile eBooks
3 Mystery Prizes
Contest runs from August 29 - October 16, 2017.

About Sabrina A. Fish

Sabrina A. Fish
Sabrina A. Fish lives in Oklahoma with her husband, son, and two cats, where she owns a trophy company and collects names for her novels from lists of award’s recipients. She loves all things chocolate and her husband is sweet enough to never let the candy dish near her computer become empty.
She loves and advocates being involved in the local writing community, and is President for the 2018 Oklahoma Writers' Federation, Inc (OWFI).
She is an annual featured speaker at The Rose State Writing Conference and has been a panelist at Wizard World Comic Con.
Born and raised in Oklahoma, she considers the three years she spent in a Texas high school to be a short trip down the rabbit hole that ended at graduation. She returned to Oklahoma where she received her Bachelor's degree in Political Science from the University of Oklahoma. BOOMER SOONER.
When she isn't writing & promoting her novels or running her company, she can be found reading, scrapbooking, or spending quality time with her family.
To find out more about Sabrina and her books, visit her website https://www.SabrinaAFish.com
Connect with Sabrina A. Fish on social media:

About The Wild Rose Press

The Wild Rose Press
The Wild Rose Press has been publishing electronic and print titles of fiction for more than nine years. Our titles span the sub-genre spectrum from sweet to sensually erotic romance in all lengths to mainstream and womens fiction. To check out the latest and upcoming releases and more, visit https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com.
Social media: Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

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Book Unleashed Logo

Cover reveal: Chasing Ella by Jillian Quinn.


Chasing Ella
Jillian Quinn
Publication date: September 27th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Every Princess needs a Prince Charming…
When a masked girl throws herself at Shawn Finch at a costume party, the hotshot football player assumes she’s just another girl trying to get his attention. Except she’s not just any girl. She’s his Cinderella, the nameless girl in the pale blue dress who got away.
Desperate to find her, Finch searches for his mystery girl with no luck. So, it must be fate when Finch’s grade point average drops and the school assigns him a tutor not knowing they just handed over his Cinderella.
After having a crush on Finch since the first time she spotted him on campus, one kiss was all she’d ever wanted. But Finch has other plans for his Cinderella once he discovers the truth about his tutor.
Pre-order today for only $2.99!


Author Bio:
Jillian Quinn is the author of the international bestselling Face-Off hockey series as well as other sexy, sporty romances.
Jillian loves sports, bad boys, dirty talkers, strong females, and books with plenty of heat—all of which you will find in her books. As a lover of all things bookish, she has a serious book hoarding problem and runs a blog in her free time. When she's not reading, writing, or blogging, she's obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
For updates, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com
Sign up for Jillian's Bad Boy Mafia for book deals, giveaways, and exclusives. http://eepurl.com/cuJkOr

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Cyndi Friberg - Battle Born: Defiant - PROMO Blitz


Sci-fi
Date Published: August 2017

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Rivals, enemies, lovers, Jenna and Drex are soon all three. She wants him, nearly as much as she resents him, so how can they ever hope to build a future together? Jenna has good reason to despise all Rodytes, but that doesn't keep her from longing for Drex, thinking of him night and day, and finding incredible pleasure every time they touch. Still, happily ever after is built on trust, and Jenna will never trust a Rodyte.
Drex is determined to prove to Jenna that he is different. He never expected to find a mate, so he refuses to let her slip away. He will court her with ruthless patience, wear down her emotional defenses until she understands that she is the most important person in the universe to him. But hostilities between humans and the battle born are rapidly escalating and the couple keeps getting caught in the middle. Can they overcome their pasts and focus on the future or will the conflict consume their love?

Excerpt

Her easy dismissal of something so vital, unleashed his predatory instincts. She only shrugged away his interest because the pull hadn’t yet engaged in her. Once his taste spread through her mouth, her body would ache with need and her blood would sizzle through her veins, “pulling” her toward him. In ages past, any Rodyte male would have tossed her over his shoulder and escaped to some private location where they could fight this out in bed.
“This is about so much more than children.” Stalking toward her with obvious intent, he spoke in a low, almost menacing tone. “Once a Rodyte male has found his mate, she becomes the most important person in the universe. Protecting her, providing for her, and pleasuring her are all he can think about. Why should I ignore what every cell in my body is demanding?”
She backed up, fear flickering through her gaze. “If you touch me, I’ll scream.”
“You have nothing to fear from me.” But he kept right on coming, only stopping when her back pressed against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her with his big body. “Breathe in my scent, let it wash over and sink into you.”
“This is pointless.” She sounded a bit more assertive now, but her lips trembled. “I don’t feel what you’re feeling.”
“Not yet,” he whispered as he lowered his head. She jerked her face aside, so he kissed her cheek and jawline. “Kiss me, Jenna. See if my taste excites you.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to be excited by anyone right now. I—”
He turned her head and cut off her words with his mouth. Her lips pressed together, unmoving and unresponsive. His instincts demanded that he open her mouth and stake his claim with the thrust of his tongue, but she’d likely bite him if he forced this on her. Besides, he wanted her wild and willing, not resentful and resigned.
“What are you so afraid of?” he whispered the words against her stubbornly closed mouth. “Nothing is more natural, more fulfilling, than touching and being touched by your mate.”
Her hands came up and shoved against his chest. “Back off. Now!”
“Kiss me once, and I’ll let you go.” He brushed his lips over hers, coaxing, teasing.
“No means no, asshole.” She brought her knee up hard, barely missing his crotch as he quickly turned away.
With an exasperated sigh, he pushed off the wall and motioned toward the door through which they’d escaped. “Enjoy the party.”

About the Author

Anything-but-Ordinary is Cyndi's creed and her writing reflects her dedication to the concept. She writes in a variety of genres, but she seems happiest in outer space. Her books frequently appear on Best-Seller lists, and TAKEN BY STORM was named Best Fantasy/Science Fiction Romance of the year by Romance Reviews Today.

She lives in Colorado with her high school sweetheart turned husband of many years. With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, she dreams of fascinating worlds and larger than life adventures -- and wouldn't have it any other way!

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Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Monday, August 28, 2017

Joshua Margolis - Melvin the Sad...(ish) Robot - PROMO Blitz



Children’s book
Date Published: 11/1/16
Publisher: Mascot Books

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Melvin is known for being a sad…(ish) robot. But, as he finds new friends and experiences, he may just figure out how to be happy…(ish).




About the Author

Joshua Margolis is a sculptor, photographer, and author from Oakland, Ca. His work has been featured in many galleries and studios. He was the de Young Fine Arts Museum artist in residence for the month of July 2014, where he brought his monsters and robots project to sculpted life. Melvin the Sad…(ish) Robot is the first story of its kind to incorporate Joshua ceramic sculptures into a real world setting, creating a unique visual narrative.

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Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Friday, August 25, 2017

Ellis O. Day - Interviewing For Her Lover - Virtual Book Tour

Steamy Romance/Erotica
Date Published: May 2017

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Sarah wants a lover, but she wants one on her terms.  She doesn’t have time to date and picking a guy up at a bar is not only dangerous but it doesn’t guarantee he’ll let her act out her fantasies.  Then she hears about La Petite Morte Club—a place for willing males and females to meet with rules and contracts so that all parties leave satisfied.

She signs up with the club and starts the process of finding the man who’ll be her lover for six nights.  Six nights of fantasy—his and hers. Six nights of sex and then they’re done.  Simple, uncomplicated and fun, but she doesn’t count on Nick’s ability to make her desire everything he has to offer and more.



Author Bio

Ellis O. Day grew up with her nose buried in books and now enjoys writing the kind of stories she loves to read.  Romance—the steamier the better—as long as there’s love in the heart (and plot). 

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EXCERPT

Sarah opened the door and walked into the room, trying to stay balanced on these stupid heels.  Men wouldn’t find them so attractive if they had to wear them.  The room was dark except for one light highlighting a small platform.  That was for her.  She stepped up onto the small stage.  The room was silent but they were there, above her, hidden behind the one-way mirrors, watching her, deciding if they wanted to take the next step—to eventually take her.  
She stared into the blackness of the room.  It wasn’t huge but its emptiness made it seem vast.  She glanced upward, the light making her squint and she quickly stared back into the darkness.  This was arranged for them to see her.  That was it.  She’d get no glimpse of them yet.  She’d seen their pictures, chosen them but meeting them in person would be different.  A picture couldn’t tell her their smell or the sound of their voices.  
She tugged at her dress where it hugged her hips, wishing the questions would start, but there was only silence.  She shifted, the heels already killing her feet.  Ethan hadn’t liked them and if they weren’t going to impress, she might as well take them off.  She moved to the back of the stage, leaned against the wall and removed her shoes.  As she returned to the center of the stage a man spoke, his voice loud and commanding almost echoing throughout the room.
“Don’t stop there.  Take off your dress.”
She bent, placing her shoes on the floor.  That wasn’t part of the deal.  She wasn’t going to undress in front of five men, only one.  Only the one she chose.  She straightened.  “No.”
“What?”  He was surprised and not happy.
“I said no.  That’s not part of the Viewing.”
“I want to see what I’m getting.”
She stared up toward the windows, squinting a little.  She couldn’t tell from where the voice had come.  The speaker system made it sound as if it were coming from God himself.  “And you will if I pick you.”
Another man laughed.
“It’s not funny.  She’s disobedient,” said the man with the loud voice.
“Not always.  I can be obedient.”  These men liked to be in control but sometimes, so did she.  
“Will you raise your dress?  Just a little,” asked another voice.



Reading Addiction Blog Tours