DOOR OF BRUISES, the 4th book in the Thornchapel series from @TheSierraSimone is coming 11/30!! #PREORDER: Amazon: https://amzn.to/34YNrfL

 

DOOR OF BRUISES (Thornchapel #4) by Sierra Simone
Release Date: November 30th

 

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START THE SERIES TODAY WITH
A LESSON IN THORNS (Thornchapel #1)
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Blurb:
Twelve years ago, our fates were sealed with a kiss.

We are all, for better or worse, doomed to love each other until death do us part. My heart belongs to Proserpina and St. Sebastian—even if he no longer wants it. Even if she has left it behind to follow him.

Delphine’s fled back home, and Becket’s holy calling is in peril.

And now only Rebecca and I remain at Thornchapel to face the unknown.

The door is open. The door that shouldn’t exist; the door that people have died to close. I don’t feel like the lord of the manor…I don’t feel like a king or a wild god. I am a friend and a boyfriend and a brother—and a failure at being all of these things. But the door doesn’t care about my guilt. It only cares about the sacrifice I’ll make to close it.

As the bruising dark of Samhain approaches, so does the fate of our circle, of Thornchapel and the village and the valley beyond it. And I must don the crown, because one thing is still true, even if I must face it alone.

Here at Thornchapel, the kings must go to the door.

Here at Thornchapel, all kings must die.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

He lifts his head; the deep brown of his irises is almost obsidian in the barely-lit foyer. They remind me of the earth at Thornchapel—near-black and wet, filled with secrets. His eyes could eat bones.

They’re already eating mine.

He draws in a breath. “You knew,” he says in a juddering kind of voice, “because you always know. Do you know that I don’t want to leave? Do you know that I want to go back upstairs with you? Do you know that I’d let you do anything to me right now? Anything you wanted, Auden, anything at all.” He steps closer, his lips parted, his hands slowly turning so his palms face me in offering.

Outside, I hear the trees lashing and fretting in a sudden, gusting wind.

“Anything,” I echo.

His pulse thrums just above the collar of his borrowed shirt. “Anything.”

I could have him now. If I wanted.

If I pushed, he’d break. If I pulled, he’d fall. All I have to do is say yes to this churning, crashing need inside me, and I could have him at my feet, I could have him on his stomach and I could be inside him with my palm against his throat and this blazer crushed between us.

And he’s looking at me like we’re sixteen again and about to kiss in a bed of flowers, like we’re starting over at the very beginning and there’s nothing between us, nothing but delirious, innocent lust—I could have him.

I could have him.

But having and loving are only sometimes the same thing.

I take a step back. “You’ll be late if you don’t go now,” I say. The words come out gentler than I feel them; they feel like razor-wire leaving my mouth.

“Auden . . . ” he says. Pleads. “But I—I miss you.”

He says it like I don’t miss him in return. He says it like I’m the bad guy here, like I’m the one who left, and maybe this is the hardest part of loving someone, maybe this was always the test. Not letting him leave, but making him go.

I take his hand, wrapping my fingers around his so that my thumb rests on the Guest family ring. My hand is shaking. My entire body is shaking.

Grab him.

Bite him.

Bruise him.

Outside the trees are thrashing and behind my eyes it feels like all I can see is forest and rain. I drag in a breath, forcing the feeling down inside me, as if I can tamp whatever it is back into my belly, as if I can pretend that I don’t want to run and chase and hunt. I’m not a king, I’m not so twisted up in Thornchapel that even the trees feel my lust and my pain. I’m just a London boy with a non-Smythson bag and good hair. I’m just a friend and a brother and I’m going to do the right thing, because I’ll pay any price not to have St. Sebastian look at me like he did at Lammas.

Because I’ve finally, finally learned that I can’t choose us for him.

He has to do it on his own.

“Listen,” I say. “You and Proserpina will always be my air and my water—the very things that make up my blood—and that hasn’t changed, because it will never change, it can’t. I can’t.”

I put my free hand against his stomach, pressing the ejaculate-damp shirt into his skin. Mine, the gesture says. My own thing.

“This is me. But you are you, and I love you as you are, and don’t you see it? Don’t you feel it? You were right about me. A few minutes alone with me, and I have you dressed like a doll and wearing my cum, and if you spend the night with me, I’ll have you shivering and spent and marked all over. If you come back to Thornchapel, I will never stop looking and reaching and wanting. I can’t be trusted.”

He’s shaking his head, even though I’m only repeating his own words from Lammas back to him. “You can’t be trusted,” I remind him gently. “You had your reasons for leaving. Have they changed so much that you can abandon them all now? Truly?”

He’s stopped shaking his head now, and he’s staring up at me with a look so hopeless I can’t stand it.

This is what no one told me about love, about being the Thorn King, about everything.

You can be broken, and still you must let people break you again and again.

You must help them break you, if necessary.

You must allow your own sorrows, your own torments and regrets, to be subsumed in the face of their own.

You must cut yourself apart piece by piece and plant those pieces far and wide in the lives of those around you, and then you must not lament when they don’t take root. You must cut yourself apart and do it all over again. As many times as it takes.

As many times as it takes.

“Go, St. Sebastian,” I say, letting go of his hand. I can still feel the worn crest of his ring against my thumb. The G surrounded by twining, twisting thorns. “Just go.”

He swallows. Whispers, “I’m sorry.”

And then finally, mercifully, he turns and opens the door. I watch him take the steps with the vague stagger of a dying man, and then I watch him slope off into the night, shoulders hunched forward and head down.

I think he’s crying.

I know I am.

 

 

 

 

About the Author:
Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

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#EXCERPTREVEAL Happily Letter After by @ViKeeland & @PenelopeAuthor @GiveMeBooksPR #PreOrder https://amzn.to/329nh8V #TBR

Title: Happily Letter After
Authors: Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
Publisher: Montlake
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 20, 2020
BLURB
From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes a love story about taking chances and the surprises that come with them. 

My love story all started with a letter. 
Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. 
You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. 
So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. 
While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father. Her devastatingly handsome, single dad father. 
I should have stopped playing fairy godmother then. I should have left well enough alone. But I just couldn’t help myself. I had a connection to this girl. One that had me acting irrationally. 
Like when I showed up on their doorstep.
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EXCERPT
Copyright © 2019 by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward 

“I cannot believe we are doing this.” Devin and I took the C train to Columbus Circle and stopped at Starbucks before walking over to the carousel. My partner in crime came dressed for surveillance, wearing head-to-toe black, dark sun- glasses, and a wool cap . . . in July. We were lucky it was New York or she might look like the weirdo she is. I, on the other hand, had on jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. Because . . . you know . . . Steven Tyler and those lips. I didn’t even care he was probably pushing seventy. I’d still suck on those babies. 
We took a seat on a bench located to the right of the carousel—not directly in front of it but where we could still see everyone who walked in and out. As we got into position, I started to feel really bad about what we were about to do—invade little Birdie’s privacy. 
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” 
Devin put her hand on my shoulder and applied pressure—just in case I tried to get up. “We’re doing this. Don’t even try to make a run for it.” 
I slouched back onto the bench. “Fine.” 
We sat for the better part of an hour, sipping coffee, gossiping about work, and looking around for a little girl and her dad. When I caught the time on my phone, I said, “It’s after eleven. I don’t think they’re coming.” 
“Let’s give it until eleven thirty.” 
I rolled my eyes. But screw it, we were in this far—I might as well go along with the rest of the ride. Otherwise, Devin would never let me hear the end of it. At eleven thirty on the dot, I stood. “Let’s go, Lacey.” 
“Who?” 
Cagney & Lacey. It was a show my mom used to watch when I was little. It had two women detectives.” 
“Well, which one was hotter? Maybe I don’t want to be Lacey.” 
I laughed. “You can be whichever one you want to be.” 
I turned to throw out my coffee cup in the basket next to the bench and was just about to start to leave when I spotted a little girl and a man who had just turned into the entrance of the park. They were pretty far off, but I thought it could be Birdie. “Oh my God. Sit! Sit! I think that’s them.” 
The two of us planted our asses back on the bench at the same exact time. Devin leaned forward and squinted. “Are you sure?” 
I grabbed her arm and pulled her to sit back. “Don’t be so obvious.” 
We watched, while completely failing at looking casual, as the man and the little girl moved closer. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and had on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He was holding the hand of the little girl. And she had on . . . a bodysuit and tutu. It was definitely Birdie! 
“Oh my God. It’s them!” 
Neither of us said a word as the father and daughter approached the carousel. When they got close enough so I could finally see their faces, I gasped. “Oh my God. He’s . . .” 
Devin grabbed my hand. “I call dibs. I want to have his babies.” 
I couldn’t believe my eyes. While I was expecting a modern version of my dad twenty years ago, the man standing before me was anything but. For the record, my dad is awesome, and he’s not too shabby-looking. But this man . . . was . . . drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Wow. Just . . . yeah. Wow. 
Sebastian Maxwell had dark hair, bone structure to die for, and full, beautiful lips. I’d joked how Devin thought the guy was a super- model, but this man could actually be a supermodel. He had that longish, messy hair—the kind that he could drag a hand through, and it would look like he’d been both thoroughly fucked and just finished a photo shoot. Yeah, that was him. I was absolutely, positively speechless.
VI KEELAND
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty-five languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
PENELOPE WARD
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance. 

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism. 
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
OTHER BOOKS BY VI & PENELOPE
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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
ALSO AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK & AUDIO
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Free in Kindle Unlimited
ALSO AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK & AUDIO

#CoverReveal MONTANA WILD by Kira Berger @KBergerAuthor @Forewordpr #ExcerptReveal #TBR #PreOrder


COVER & EXCERPT REVEAL

MONTANA WILD by Kira Berger

Release Date: July 15, 2020

Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trope: Enemies to lovers


SYNOPSIS

To the outside world, my life looked perfect. As an equestrian jumper on her way to the Olympics, I’ve seemingly overcome the adversity of my past and became the underdog everyone can root for.

Until one mistake sent my life and career into a downward spiral.

Only I know the truth of the lies and manipulation behind the glitz and glamor that led me here. For fourteen years, I’ve been running from a past I couldn’t bring myself to face. It’s time to confront the source of the pain that haunts me.

It’s time to go home… to Montana.

Being judged by people who don’t know me is nothing new. Though, when a handsome stranger with a chiseled jaw-line and rugged good looks shows me that everyone in town already condemned me, I start to doubt my decision to come home. How can I not when my past is their present?

Still, I’ve come in search of answers, and I’m not leaving without them. More than a decade ago my world fell apart. To embrace all the future has to offer, it’s time to uncover my family’s deeply buried secrets.


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EXCERPT

A sudden bang disrupts the stillness surrounding us. The colt’s head jerks up, the loud noise clearly frightening him. The unexpected movement while I’m distracted for a second by whoever made the noise sends me staggering back, only to trip over my own feet. I land hard on my back, jarring my injured shoulder. Pain unlike anything I remember ever feeling before shoots through my body, causing me to cry out and tears to spring to my eyes. I don’t notice the footsteps running toward me, I’m too busy gritting my teeth and trying to breathe through the pain shooting down my body.

I continue to blink at the ceiling, not paying attention to what it is going on around me, when a shadow falls over me.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks me.

“Yeah,” I groan through the pain, still not quite able to make out the face hovering over me.

“Where’s your sling?”

Unable to process his question, I keep blinking until his face finally comes into focus, and I’m stunned stupid. Blue eyes intermixed with a steely-gray stare down at me from a face that reminds me of a Roman god, all sharp edges and straight lines. His dirty blond hair is messy, like he ran his hand through it one too many times. Unable to help myself, my eyes fall to his full lips. It was only when said lips start to twitch into a smile, I realize what I’m doing and my eyes snap back up to his.

“What?” I stammer, trying to get my brain to work while telling myself it’s only the pain I’m currently in that is making me act like an idiot.

“I asked where your sling was at. You’re supposed to wear it all the time, aren’t you?” The smile is gone, replaced with what looks close to reproach.

Deciding to ignore his question because I know not wearing that stupid sling isn’t smart, and I’m not about to tell this stranger that I can’t put it on by myself without crying in pain, I ask, “Who are you?”

“I’m Kade Reed.”

As soon as the name leaves his lips I freeze, and all attraction I felt toward him vanishes into the ether—or so I tell myself. So, this is the guy who thinks talking shit about a person he doesn’t know is acceptable.

What a shame it’s always the gorgeous ones who turn out to be jerks.

He must have felt the change in me because his eyebrows pull together, and he asks, “Are you okay, Montana?”

So, he knows who I am. Which means I imagined the friendly, maybe even flirty, smile he sent my way when I was staring at him. Just as well.

“No, this floor is freezing. And my shoulder is killing me. Now move so I can get up,” I say, barely containing the sarcasm. At my tone his face changes, no surprise there since this probably only confirms his opinion of me. But I long ago decided, about the time when I realized I can’t force either one of my parents love me, to never again try to prove myself to someone else in order to make them like me. Either they do or they don’t, but their opinion isn’t going to define me. Not anymore.

He moves back before he offers me his hand to help me up. Knowing it would only hurt more to do it by myself, I grasp his hand. A zing of awareness races through me at the contact of our skin. Something I’ve never felt before. Stunned for a second, I let him pull me to my feet without much help from me.

I still wonder what the hell that feeling was when he walks toward the hay bale to grab my sling. Once he’s back in front of me, I silently watch him as he slides the sling carefully over my arm before he fastens the strap around my neck. A tingling sensation follows his fingers as they skim the skin of my neck.

I clear my throat and try to hold his gaze that’s clearly not pleased with me being here. Or maybe he just doesn’t like being anywhere near me. “Thank you,” I say, trying to remember my manners.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I’m taken aback by his harsh tone, not sure what he’s referring to. “What?”

“I know you’re not stupid, Montana. I asked what the fuck you were thinking going anywhere near Lucifer? Someone like you could have easily gotten hurt.”

“Someone like me?” My own voice rises in response to his condescending tone. Someone like me? Is he serious? I’m probably more qualified to be near that horse—Lucifer—than everyone else in this place except my father.

“Yeah, someone like you who’s never been around a green horse before.”

At his words, the anger I’ve been holding in for the last half an hour, ever since I heard him talk to Lizzie—hell over the last fourteen years—explodes out of me.

“Listen here, jackass, the only reason why Lucifer freaked out is because you came storming in here making a fucking ruckus so loud you’d think you were trying to wake the dead. He was perfectly fine before you showed up, doing whatever it was you were doing, and scaring him.” When he opens his mouth to respond, I hold up my hand palm out to stop him. “I’m still talking, you already said plenty for one day.”

My hand drops to my side. “You don’t know me, or my life. All you know is a bunch of bullshit other people or social media has told you. And they don’t fucking know me either. You’re clearly the type of person who thinks it’s okay to talk shit about someone you’ve never so much as spoken a word to, and I’m the brat?” My voice rises the longer I speak. I don’t care if he realizes I overheard his conversation this morning. “But I’m going to tell you one thing. Besides my father, I’m probably the only person on this ranch who’s able to handle a horse like Lucifer. He wasn’t planning to hurt me, and he wouldn’t have if not for you. I’ve been on a horse since before I could walk, I’ve been training them since I was thirteen years old. I’m the only one who ever trained or rode Whisky.” I point toward my boy whose head is hanging out the door window, clearly curious. “He’s the best at what he does because of me, not despite of me.” It’s not a lie either. Whisky was born to jump, he loves doing it and he excels when faced with a challenge, despite being shorter than most of his peers, but he’s only at the level he is at because we’re unbeatable as a team. We’re in sync and trust each other, which is vital when you do what we do. But many people don’t understand the bond we share and think I’m just a spoiled brat who got lucky with a horse someone bought her.

“So how about you get off your high horse and take your condescending attitude and fuck yourself.” I’m past caring that I’m reinforcing his opinion of me. I long since learned not to surround myself with people who are either using me for something or talk about me behind my back while being nice to my face. It’s gotten me into trouble one too many times not to have learned my lesson.

At my last sentence, his eyes widen in shock while his mouth tightens. I guess he’s not used to anyone—especially a woman—speaking to him this way.

“You—” he starts, his face contorting in anger, but the door opening interrupts whatever he was about to say.

“Montana, here you are,” I hear my father’s voice, but I refuse to be the one to look away first. It might be childish, but I refuse to give him that much.

 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kira Berger is a child of the world with a severe case of wanderlust. She’s lived in both North America and Europe. Currently, she’s living in London and enjoys everything the diverse city has to offer.

She’s always been a dreamer and closet romantic. And after obtaining her MA in English and Publishing, she finally decided to bring the stories floating around in her head and distracting her from real life onto paper.

If she’s not writing or working – which is pretty much most of the time – she can be found reading, traveling all over the world to visit friends, cuddle with her cat, or ride on the back of her horse through the countryside, preferably during the winter months.



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Queen Move, an all-new powerful second chance standalone from @KennedyRWrites is coming May 26th and we have your FIRST LOOK!

“Combining sweet nostalgia with the important issues Kennedy never shies away from, Queen Move is nothing less than wonderful. I couldn’t put it down and never wanted it to end!”

— Alexa Martin, Author of Intercepted

Queen Move, an all-new powerful second chance standalone from Wall Street Journal bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author Kennedy Ryan, is coming May 26th and we have your FIRST LOOK!

Queen Move_FNL_sized copy

Make sure to enter on Kennedy’s site to win a QUEEN BOX, stuffed with a signed paperback and all the things you’ll need to treat yourself like a queen!

Prologue

Kimba

Two Years Before Present

Is there anything sadder than a daddy’s girl at her father’s funeral?

My mother’s quiet sniffs a few seats down give me the answer.

A grieving widow.

“He was a good man,” someone in the long line of mourners offering condolences whispers to her.

Mama’s head bobs with a tearful nod. In this day and age, she still wears a pillbox hat and veil. It’s black and chic like Mama, channeling tragic Jackie Kennedy or Coretta Scott King. My father was not just a good man. He was a great man, and everyone should know he leaves behind a widow, grieving deeply, but ever-fly. I squeeze the funeral program between my fingers, glaring at the printed words.

Joseph Allen leaves behind a wife, Janetta, three children, Kayla, Keith and Kimba, and six grandchildren.

He leaves behind.

Daddy’s gone, and I don’t know how to live in a world my father does not inhabit. The casket is draped with sweet-smelling flowers in the center of the funeral tent. When we leave the cemetery, it…he will be lowered into the ground with unfathomable finality, separated from us by white satin lining, six feet of dirt and eternity.

Kayla, my older sister, sobs softly at the end of our family’s row. Her four children watch her carefully, probably unused to seeing their unshakeable mother shaken and reduced to tears. Even I’d forgotten how she looks when she cries—like she’s mad at the wetness streaking her cheeks, resentful of any sign of weakness.

It’s not weak to cry, Daddy used to say. It’s human.

“But doesn’t the Bible say even the rocks will cry out?” I’d challenged him when I was young, loving that something from Sunday school took. “So maybe tears aren’t just for humans.”

“You’re getting too smart for your britches, little girl,” he’d said, but the deep affection in his eyes when he kissed me told me he was pleased. He liked that I asked questions and taught me to never accept bullshit at face value.

I miss you, Daddy.

Not even a week since his heart attack, and I already miss him so much.

Humanity blurs my vision, wet and hot and stinging my eyes. I want this to be over. The flowers, the well-dressed mourners, the news cameras stationed at a distance they probably deem respectful. I just want to go to the house where my parents raised us, retreat to Daddy’s study and find the stash of cigars that only he and I knew about.

Don’t tell your mother, he used to whisper conspiratorially. This will be our little secret.

Mama hated the smell of cigars in the house.

“Tru.”

Who would call me by that name? Now, when the only people who use it, my family, are all preoccupied with their own pain? A tall man stands in front of me, his thick, dark brows bunched with sympathy. I don’t know him. I would remember a man like this, who stands strong like an oak tree. A well-tailored suit molds his powerful shoulders. Dark brown, not quite black, hair is cut ruthlessly short, but hints at waves if given the chance to grow. His prominent nose makes itself known above the full, finely sculpted lips below. His eyes are shockingly vivid—so deep a blue they’re almost the color of African violets against skin like bronze bathed in sunlight. No, a man like him you’d never forget. Something niggles at my memory, tugs at my senses. I’d never forget a man who looked like this, a man with eyes like that…but what about a boy?

“Ezra?” I croak, disbelief and uncertainty mingling in the name I haven’t uttered in years.

It can’t be.

But it is.

QUEEN MOVE FIRST LOOK

Keep Going!

Read the REST of the prologue and enter the QUEEN BOX giveaway on Kennedy’s website:→ https://bit.ly/35U65FL

**QUEEN MOVE will have the special pre-order and release week price of $3.99. After that, the price will increase.**

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Synopsis

The boy who always felt like mine is now the man I can’t have…

Dig a little and you’ll find photos of me in the bathtub with Ezra Stern.

Get your mind out of the gutter. We were six months old.

Pry and one of us might confess we saved our first kiss for each other.

The most clumsy, wet, sloppy . . . spectacular thirty seconds of my adolescence.

Get into our business and you’ll see two families, closer than blood, torn apart in an instant.

Twenty years later, my “awkward duckling” best friend from childhood,

the boy no one noticed, is a man no one can ignore.

Finer. Fiercer. Smarter.

Taken.

Tell me it’s wrong.

Tell me the boy who always felt like mine is now the man I can’t have.

When we find each other again, everything stands in our way–secrets, lies, promises.

But we didn’t come this far to give up now.

And I know just the move to make if I want to make him mine.

KR W Bckg VertiAbout Kennedy Ryan

A RITA® Award Winner, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling Author, Kennedy Ryan writes for women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

Kennedy and her writings have been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today, Entertainment Weekly, Glamour and many others. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but has a special passion for raising Autism awareness.The co-founder of LIFT 4 Autism, an annual charitable book auction, she has appeared on Headline News, The Montel Williams Show, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for ASD families. She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son.

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#ExcerptReveal MY FAVORITE SOUVENIR by @PenelopeAuthor & @ViKeeland #ContemporaryRomance #ComingSoon #PreOrder ➜https://fave.co/2WSz22e

My Favorite Souvenir

Release date: 4/27/2020

 

A Contemporary Romance Novel

 

New York Times Bestselling Authors Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

 

EXCERPT REVEAL:

“Good afternoon. You’ve reached the Four Seasons Resort, Vail, Colorado. How

may I direct your call?”

I took a deep breath. “Hi. I checked out early this morning. My reservation was

for ten days, but I only wound up staying two nights. Is there any chance you might still

have my room available? Or any room, for that matter? My flight was canceled because

of the storm.”

“Let me take a look. What’s your last name?”

“Appleton.” I shook my head. “Actually, the reservation was under Ellis. My

fiancé’s last name.” Or ex-fiancé. But I’d let her call me Mrs. Ellis at this point if it

meant I could have a place to sleep tonight.

“Give me one moment and I’ll check.”

“Thank you.”

I sat down in the lobby of the Best Western, the third hotel I’d been to in the last

two hours. It was dumb of me to check out this morning. Though, at least I was

consistent. After making the bad decision to go on my previously planned honeymoon

alone, I’d brilliantly decided to check out only two days into the trip…without looking at

the weather report for Vail. When I arrived at the airport, I had no idea that a blizzard was

on the way. But the airline had assured me my flight was still scheduled as planned. And

they’d kept their word right up until five minutes before we were supposed to board,

when they announced a two-hour delay. Two hours turned into three, and three turned

into five, and when we hit six hours of sitting on uncomfortable plastic seats outside the

gate, they finally admitted it wasn’t going to happen. Every other flight had been

canceled by then. And now, every hotel seemed to be full.

“Hi, Mrs. Ellis?”

I cringed at being called that, but answered anyway. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry. After you checked out, your room was rebooked. We’re actually sold

out for the night because of the storm.”

I sighed. Of course you are. “Okay. Thank you.”

This was just my luck lately. I called four more hotels, until one said they might

have a few rooms available. Apparently they had guests that hadn’t checked in yet and

were in the process of making calls to confirm whether they would still be arriving today.

Rooms would be freed up on a first-come, first-served basis. So I decided to take a

chance and head on over. It was already seven o’clock at night, and there was no point in

sitting here anymore. Surprisingly, Uber was still running, even though the airport had

called it quits hours ago.

Out front, the snow was coming down hard. A giant SUV with snow chains on the

tires pulled up in front of the door. I couldn’t check the license plate or get a look at the

make and model of the vehicle since it was covered in snow, so I walked over to the car

and motioned for the driver to roll down the window.

“Are you Hazel?” the older woman behind the wheel asked.

I smiled. “Yes.”

“Heading over to the Snow Eagle Lodge?”

“Yes, please.”

Even though the next hotel was only two miles away, it took fifteen minutes to get

there. By the time we pulled up, the conditions were almost white-out. It couldn’t be safe

driving in this anymore.

“God, it’s really terrible out here,” I said as I pulled up the hood of my jacket. “Be

careful driving tonight.”

“Oh, I will, honey. The next place I’m driving is home. I only picked you up

because you were on my way. Good thing you’re at your hotel now. No one is going to

be on the roads tonight anymore.”

Great. This place really better have a room for me.

As I climbed out of the SUV, a gust of snow smacked me in the face, despite the

fact that we were parked under the building’s overhang. The wind made it look like

someone had shaken a snow globe, hard. Inside the hotel, I wiped flakes from my

eyelashes and glanced around the lobby.

Oh no.

This didn’t look good. A line of at least thirty or forty people snaked five rows

deep, waiting to get to the reception desk. I sighed and wheeled my luggage to behind the

last person. More than half an hour later, I finally reached the front.

“Hi. I called earlier, and the person I spoke to said some rooms might become

available, that you were going to contact guests who hadn’t showed and see if they were

still coming?”

The woman nodded with a frown. “Yeah. I can put you on our waitlist. But we’re

still making calls, and to be honest, it’s not looking too good.”

My shoulders slumped. “Okay. Well, I guess please add me to your wait list.”

The woman lifted a clipboard and set it down on the counter. She thumbed

through a few pages and turned it to face me, pointing at the next available line, which

was two from the bottom of the page. “Just add your name and cell phone number.”

I scribbled both and let the pages above the one I’d been writing on fan back into

place. Noticing the sheet at the top looked just like the one I’d signed, five or six pages

down, I glanced through all the papers. There had to be at least a hundred names and

telephone numbers.

“Are these all on your waiting list?”

The hotel clerk nodded.

“How many people haven’t checked in?”

“I think about a dozen.”

Oh God. This really wasn’t good. But maybe people had just added their names

and left, like in a packed restaurant. Maybe the bulk of people ahead of me on the list had

found other hotels.

Turning around, whatever hope I’d talked myself into immediately deflated.

Every seat in the lobby area behind me was taken. Some were even sitting on the floor,

leaning against their luggage. With very few options, I wandered over and found an

empty space on a carpeted area of the floor, not too far from the concierge desk. Though I

knew it was futile, I took out my iPad and continued to search for a hotel with

availability. Even if I found one, getting there would be a miracle on its own at this point.

The nearby concierge desk had been empty while I scrolled and made calls, but

now two women walked over. One I recognized as the manager, since I’d spent a half

hour staring at the people behind the front desk while I’d waited in line. The other had on

a nametag and held a clipboard. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation from

where I sat.

“These seven we still haven’t reached,” the manager said. “All of the other rooms

have been checked in, or we’ve reallocated them to people from the waiting list.”

The employee flipped through the pages and looked around the full hotel lobby.

“Jeez. And this storm is supposed to stick around for days.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a guy standing on the other side of the

concierge desk. His back was to the ladies talking, but he craned his neck, and I thought

he, too, might be eavesdropping. Figuring he was probably just as bored as me, I went

back to my iPad search—until a few minutes later when I noticed him scribbling

something with a pen on the inside of his hand.

What the hell is he doing?

He wrote for a few seconds and then seemed to go back to eavesdropping. The

manager had walked away, leaving the employee to make her phone calls. She hung up

from one call and dialed again.

“Hi. This is Catherine from the Snow Eagle Lodge. I’m trying to reach Milo or

Madeline Hooker.”

The minute she said the names, the eavesdropper scribbled on his hand again.

Catherine continued leaving her message. “I just wanted to confirm whether

you’d still be arriving this evening. Your reservation is guaranteed, so we’ll hold it as

long as you need. However, if the storm has perhaps caused a change in your travel plans,

we do have a long wait list of guests who could use the two rooms you have booked. My

number here is 970-555-4000, if you could please return my call at your earliest

convenience. Thank you.”

The same thing went on with the next two calls. Catherine left a message and the

eavesdropper scribbled. Curious about what he was up to, I kept my eye on him. After the

hotel clerk finished making her calls, she went back to the front desk. Eavesdropper

picked up his backpack and casually strolled down a nearby hallway. I leaned to watch

where he was going, and he eventually pulled up his hood and exited out a side door I

hadn’t even noticed was there.

I thought it was odd, but I figured the show was over.

But a few minutes later, a guy with the same ski jacket walked through the front

lobby door. He pulled his hood down, and I got a look at his face for the very first time.

Damn, he was handsome. Medium brown hair that was kind of shaggy and

needed a cut, full lips, hazel eyes, and tanned skin. His warm skin tone really stood out

against the pasty color of most people in Colorado this time of the year, including me. It

was a shame I loathed men right now, because he was seriously gorgeous. He dusted

some of the snow from the shoulders of his jacket and went to wait in line. It was much

shorter now, with only two men in front of him, mostly because people weren’t braving

the storm anymore. I had no idea what possessed me to do it, but I decided to get up and

wait behind the guy. Maybe I was imagining things to keep myself entertained, but I had

the distinct feeling he was up to something.

When it was his turn at the front desk, I moved as close as I could to listen

without seeming like a stalker.

“Hi. I’m checking in,” the man said.

“Great. What’s your last name, sir?”

He cleared his throat. “Hooker. Milo Hooker.”

I squinted. The guy was totally full of shit. I knew it!

The unsuspecting hotel clerk punched a bunch of keys on her keyboard and

smiled. “I have your reservation right here. Two rooms for two nights, breakfast

included. Is that right?”

“Uhhh…” The guy nodded. “Yeah. I booked two rooms. But it turns out I’m only

going to need the one.” He looked over his shoulder. “Looks like you won’t have a

problem filling the other one, though.”

She smiled. “No, we definitely won’t. I’ll just need a credit card and a picture ID

please, Mr. Hooker.”

I waited. This was the moment of truth. If he wasn’t actually Milo Hooker, he was

going to have to make up some excuse.

The guy reached into his front pocket like he was going to pull out his wallet. For

a second, I thought I might’ve been wrong, but then he pulled out a wad of cash.

“I lost my wallet on the slopes today. Luckily, I had some cash sent over through

Western Union before the storm got too bad. Can I just pay cash?”

The young woman hesitated. “You don’t have any ID at all? I’m not supposed to

check people in without photo identification.”

Fake Milo poured on the charm. He leaned forward and showed off a set of

cavernous dimples. “We could take a selfie together?”

The woman giggled. She actually giggled. “Let me just check with my manager.”

She disappeared into the back and returned with the manager a few minutes later.

A crazy idea popped into my head. She said there were two rooms… I made a

spur-of-the-moment decision and approached the counter.

“There you are, Milo.” I rested my hand on the guy’s shoulder. “My flight was

canceled. I hope they still have our rooms.”

Fake Milo turned and looked at me with his brows furrowed.

He was going to blow it if I didn’t do something, so I turned my attention to the

two hotel employees. “My brother and I booked rooms here for two nights, but I was

trying to get out before the storm. Obviously I had no luck. I spent the entire day in the

airport. Please tell me you still have my room? I’m dying for a hot bath.”

Milo looked at me, then the hotel employees, then back at me. I smiled and arched

a brow. For a second, I almost felt bad for the guy. He looked so bewildered. Since he

still seemed to be at a loss for words, I figured I should continue talking. “We went

skiing early this morning and had our backpacks stolen. Between that and the storm

coming, I figured it was a sign that I should get back home early. Apparently Mother

Nature had other plans. We should have two rooms—Milo and Madeline Hooker.

Someone actually just left me a message on my cell asking us to confirm. Her name was

Catherine, I believe.”

The desk clerk nodded. “That was me. The storm has a lot of people stranded here

unexpectedly without rooms, so we were checking in with guests that hadn’t arrived yet.”

The manager looked back and forth between Fake Milo and me. “We’ll have to

take a hundred-dollar deposit for incidentals on each room since you don’t have a credit

card.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

She nodded to her employee. “Check them in. It’s fine.”

The man next to me still had his mouth hanging open. So I dug into my purse,

being careful not to show my wallet, which was supposed to have been stolen, and

scooped out all of the cash.

“How much are the rooms?” I asked the clerk.

“Let’s see. With tax, they come to three-hundred-and-forty-two dollars each, for

the two nights, and then we have to collect the hundred-dollar deposit.”

I didn’t think I had that much cash. I counted the money in my hand and slid

it over in front of Fake Milo. “Can you spot me forty dollars? You know I’m good for it,

bro.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

After we paid and got the room keys, we walked side by side to the elevator bank

in silence. It wasn’t until we were alone and the elevator doors slid shut that Milo turned

to me. “What the hell just happened?”

I laughed. “We just got rooms, that’s what happened.”

He shook his head. “But who are you?”

“I noticed you standing near the concierge desk and eavesdropping while she

called the guests who hadn’t arrived yet.” I reached forward and took the man’s hand,

opening it to display blue ink. “You wrote down the names of the guests. I thought it was

odd, so I followed you to the front desk to see what you were up to. When you made up

that bogus story about losing your wallet so you could justify not having any ID, I knew

you were full of shit.” I shrugged. “When the woman said there were two rooms on the

reservation, I saw an opening and took it.”

“How did you know I’d go along with it?”

I smiled. “I didn’t. But that’s what made it so much fun!” I covered my chest with

my hand. “My heart feels like it’s trying to ricochet out of my ribcage at this moment. It’s

been a long time since I did anything risky like that.”

His eyes roamed my face. I got the feeling he still wasn’t sure what to make of

me, even though I’d just explained what I’d done. He looked down at my lips, which

were still curved in an excited smile.

“Why is that?”

My forehead wrinkled. “Why is what?”

“Why’s it been a long time since you’ve done anything risky? It looks to me like

you enjoyed it.”

I blinked a few times, not having expected a question that would tug at my

heartstrings, and my smile fell. “I don’t know. I guess I kind of turned into a different

person over the last few years.”

Fake Milo’s eyes locked with mine. We’d gone from pulling off a crazy stunt and

laughing, to an odd seriousness. His eyes flickered to my lips and back once again.

“That’s a shame. You have a great smile.”

Warmth spread through me, and I couldn’t seem to unlock my eyes from the

stranger’s—at least until the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the third floor.

“This is us,” he said. “Rooms 320 and 321.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” I stepped out and followed the signs to our rooms. Since we

were, of course, family, they’d put us right next to each other. We stood a few feet apart

as we opened our respective doors. As my lock unlatched and I turned the handle to go

inside, something dawned on me.

“I almost forgot! I owe you forty dollars for the room.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, don’t be silly. I just didn’t have enough cash and didn’t want to hand the

woman a credit card when we weren’t supposed to have ID. I’ll just throw my bag in the

room and go downstairs to find an ATM. They must have one somewhere.”

“I thought you couldn’t wait to take a hot bath, or was that part of the act?”

I laughed. “No, it actually wasn’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I spent the entire day

at the airport. A hot bath sounds pretty amazing right about now. But I can grab your cash

first. It won’t take me long.”

Fake Milo scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to

take a quick shower and then go downstairs to the bar for a drink. Take your bath. You

can find me there afterward to give me the money.”

“Okay.”

We looked at each other for a moment.

“Alright, well, enjoy your soak, sis.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Milo. I’ll see you later.”

 

the day he came back

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BLURBMy planned trip for two unexpectedly turned into a trip for one. Rather than let my breakup get me down, I packed my bags and decided a week at a luxury resort was just what I needed.

But one calamity after the next, and suddenly I was stuck without a hotel room,

along with a few hundred other people.

It looked like my fancy vacation was about to turn into me sleeping on the hotel

lobby floor.

Until I overheard a gorgeous man pretending to be someone he wasn’t in order

to steal a reservation from a guest who hadn’t shown up yet.

When I realized there were two rooms, instead of calling him out, I pretended to

be his sister. That’s how the story of “Milo and Maddie Hooker” began.

We were the Hookers.

My depressing trip quickly made a U-turn into an adventure.

My fake brother spent the next few days showing me around his hometown.

When it was time to leave, neither of us really wanted to go yet.

So, instead of flying back to our respective homes, we ventured on a road trip.

At every stop, we’d pick up souvenirs.

But as hot as our chemistry was, we never crossed the line.

Milo knew I’d just come out of a tough relationship and didn’t want to mess with

a vulnerable woman.

So instead, at the end of our trip, we made a pact to meet again in three

months.

It was always my intention to meet him.

But when I got back home, reality hit in a big way.

And I worried I may have lost my handsome stranger forever.

Was there a place for him in my future?

Or had the memory of him just become my favorite souvenir?

PURCHASE LINKS:

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BLURB

My planned trip for two unexpectedly turned into a trip for one.  Rather than let my breakup get me down, I packed my bags and decided a week at a luxury resort was just what I needed.

But one calamity after the next, and suddenly I was stuck without a hotel room, along with a few hundred other people.

It looked like my fancy vacation was about to turn into me sleeping on the hotel lobby floor.

Until I overheard a gorgeous man pretending to be someone he wasn’t in order to steal a reservation from a guest who hadn’t shown up yet.

When I realized there were two rooms, instead of calling him out, I pretended to be his sister. That’s how the story of “Milo and Maddie Hooker” began. 

We were the Hookers.

My depressing trip quickly made a U-turn into an adventure.  

My fake brother spent the next few days showing me around his hometown. When it was time to leave, neither of us really wanted to go yet. 

So, instead of flying back to our respective homes, we ventured on a road trip. 

At every stop, we’d pick up souvenirs.

But as hot as our chemistry was, we never crossed the line.

Milo knew I’d just come out of a tough relationship and didn’t want to mess with a vulnerable woman.

So instead, at the end of our trip, we made a pact to meet again in three months.   

It was always my intention to meet him.

But when I got back home, reality hit in a big way.

And I worried I may have lost my handsome stranger forever.

Was there a place for him in my future?

Or had the memory of him just become my favorite souvenir?

 

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

 

PENELOPE WARD:

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

 

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism. 

 

With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

 

PENELOPE’S SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS: 

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/penelopewardauthor  

 

Facebook Private Fan Group:

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@penelopewardauthor

http://instagram.com/PenelopeWardAuthor/

 

Twitter:

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#PlayingToWin #StaceyLynn #IceKingsSeries

Playing to Win, an all-new second chance sports romance with all-the-feels by Stacey Lynn is available now!

It was a three-week fling. Nothing more than a couple of college kids having some fun, but then I did the stupid thing and fell for Jude Taylor quicker than he can score a goal on the ice. And after one beautiful night together, he left for the pros before I could make my first cup of coffee.

I thought I’d put him behind me. I thought I’d moved on. But then he hobbles into my physical therapy office and I realize how absolutely wrong I’ve been—there’s no getting over Jude Taylor.

And now things are complicated. Jude lives half a country away, his career is in direct opposition for my need for stability, and most of all, getting involved with him could mean losing my job and everything I’ve worked so hard for.

Jude doesn’t seem to mind one bit and he’s all in. He might be a patient in my office, but he’s no longer the patient guy I remember.

This time, he’s playing to win, and the prize he’s looking to score is me.

Download your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2s8UrHO
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/playingtowinstaceylynn
Apple Books:https://apple.co/35xyEqP
Nook: http://bit.ly/2N1rdBK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/39OjzV0
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Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2UApbx3

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2N2UNqu

Excerpt:

“You step inside this place and I’m going to kiss you.” Yeah, that’s the asshole thing I say to her first. Not hello. Not wow, you’re beautiful in Storm gear but you’d look hotter wearing my jersey.
Which might be equally douchebaggery.
To the delight of the blood rushing straight below my waist, she steps inside and lets the door close behind her. “I didn’t text you for that, but I won’t turn it down.”
I jerk my chin up. “Then get your sweet ass over here.”
She doesn’t even hesitate, which means I’m grinning when she reaches me. I grab her hand and yank her the rest of the way, loving the way she slams into my chest with a quiet oomph.
Before she can blink or reconsider, my hand is at the back of her head, mine is lowering, and I press my lips against hers, sliding my tongue inside her mouth without hesitation.
Everything inside me from my chest to my dick sparks and sizzles and for the first time in weeks, possibly longer, I feel alive and strong and exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m resting on the wall, one arm settled over a crutch. It makes kissing her without falling over difficult, but after an adjustment, I’m able to get both of my hands on her cheeks, fingers in her hair, thumbs at her jaw. I tilt her head and move, pressing my back to the wall and bring her with me.
Her hands are above my hips, holding me tight, clutching the fabric of my shirt and my balls are so fucking full with the need to release just from a simple kiss, I’m afraid of what will happen if she presses her stomach against mine.
But she’s moaning, whimpering needy little breaths straight into my throat. I can’t stop or slow down. She tastes like peppermint with a hint of alcohol and I like knowing she’s graduated from beer to what hints of gin.
“Shit,” I groan, taking a breath before devouring her again. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She huffs against me and pulls back, her lips brushing against mine. I’m hard from a kiss and an old memory of how good she feels when she’s wearing nothing at all.
“I came over to talk.” She’s breathless, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated with desire.
“We are talking.” I slide my mouth along her jaw. “Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”
Who needs words when we have our bodies?
She has to know mine is screaming I’m yours.

❤❤❤ Review By Tasha M ❤❤❤

Playing to win is the first in this series. Stacey Lynn writes amazing Sports romance. I adore Hockey Books, so allllll of it made me feel like i was in heaven. So much so I read it in one sitting.

This book is so different compared her others and it being a second chance romance had me captivated. I love watching how the hero wins back the heroine.

Jude and Katie’s chemistry is on fire and their even though there were plenty ups and down I’m glad they handled it as adults. I loved that Katie wasnt a door mat.

Jude being injured Katie shows her maturity and treats him with professionalism

I throughly enjoyed the twists and turns in this woderfully entertaining book.

Grab it now and be prepared to captured.
Enjoy!!!!

Meet Stacey Lynn:

Stacey Lynn likes her coffee with a dash of sugar, her heroes with a side of bossy, and her wine a deep shade of red.

The author of over thirty romance novels, many of which have been best-selling titles on Amazon, AppleBooks, and Barnes & Noble, she loves being able to turn her vivid imagination into a career that brings entertainment and joy to her readers. Focused on sports romance and emotional, small-town romance, she also loves stretching herself in different genres.

Born in Texas and raised in the Midwest, she now makes her home in North Carolina and loves all things Southern. Together with her ultimate tall, dark, and handsome hero, she has four children. Her life is a chaotic mess that fights with her Type-A, list-making, neurotically organized preferences and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Connect with Stacey:
Facebook: http://bit.ly/379Te19
Twitter: http://bit.ly/3bjzOKx
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#SneakPeek THE LIFE THST MATTERED by Jewel E Ann @JewelE_Ann #ComingSoon #PreOrder #CurrentlyReading

The Life That Mattered, an all-new provocative and thrilling romance from author Jewel E. Ann is coming February 6th and we have the first sneak peek!

Graham flew to Vancouver three days earlier, so I had Lila all to myself for the flight and the drive to the hotel—Porter Suites. Imagine that. 

“Baby!” Lila hurled herself into Graham’s arms as soon as he opened the door to the suite. 

He winked at me over her shoulder. 

“Graham Cracker.” I rolled my eyes. 

After Lila rushed past him, he tipped the bellboy, watching him retreat toward the elevator for a few seconds before returning his attention to me. “So you don’t have to listen to her scream.” Graham handed me a keycard. 

“Hmm … she’s never mentioned screaming. You must be referencing a movie, not actual events.” I plucked the keycard from his manicured fingers. 

“I’m throwing my hat in the gubernatorial race next year. You realize you’ll have to address me with a little more respect when that happens.” 

I brushed past Graham in his pinstriped suit, potent cologne, and over-gelled coal hair—parted perfectly on the side like the preppy guy he’d always been. Lila glued herself to my existence in kindergarten, but Graham wormed his way into our circle of friends in college. He campaigned for the role of my boyfriend for two whole weeks. 

Flowers. 

Expensive jewelry. 

Plagiarized love letters—mostly William Wordsworth and Lord Byron. 

I refrained from calling him out on his romantic poems and sonnets because the thought did count, although he lost a few points by assuming my love of science meant I knew nothing about literature. 

We discovered our attraction wasn’t as physical as it was born of our mutual love for sports. My vagina stood in the way. He thought our shared interests plus his owning a penis and my owning a vagina equaled a match made in heaven. 

As for Lila … well, she hated him for years.

“This place is quite fancy-pants, Graham Cracker. Or should I start calling you Governor Graham Cracker?”  

The suite showcased a stunning view of the coastal mountains and water’s edge from the top level of the hotel nestled in the heart of downtown Vancouver. I suppressed a gasp to prevent feeding Graham’s ego. In fact, I went out of my way to bulldoze his ego at every opportunity. Want more? Click here: http://bit.ly/37vJLSU

Synopsis: 

Sex isn’t love. 

Love isn’t sex. 

And friendship is neither.

The son of a French Olympic skier and a Malaysian fashion designer, Ronin Alexander has lived the life of a nomad, traveling the world to find his next adventure. 

Life takes a dramatic turn when he meets Evelyn, a beautiful scientist who owns a bath shop in Aspen, Colorado. They defy all the rules of relationships, falling hard and quickly in love. 

Their world intertwines with Evelyn’s two best friends, the Governor and his soon-to-be wife. The four become close—very close.

When tragedy strikes, things from their pasts are unveiled—unimaginable truths and the grim realization that life will never be the same. 

Jewel E. Ann steps into another dimension with this mind-bending thriller, a provocative story that pushes boundaries and tests the true meaning of love. 

Add The Life That Mattered to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2QUyoN5

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#ExcerptReveal BAD LIAR by Lauren Rowe @LaurenRoweBooks #Book+Main @BookandMain #Excerpt #BadLiar #ReedRivers

 

BAD LIAR (Reed Rivers Trilogy #1) by Lauren Rowe
Release Date: February 24th

 

An all new, STANDALONE Trilogy from USA Today Bestselling Author Lauren Rowe begins February 24th. Bad Liar, the first book in the highly anticipated Reed Rivers Trilogy will release in ebook, paperback and audiobook (narrated by Andi Arndt & Jacob Morgan).

 

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/50540658-bad-liar

 

 

 

Blurb:
Swallowing lies has never felt so good.

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The Man with the Midas Touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed.

Indeed, the moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers—and tongue—all over me. Unfortunately, though, I can’t give into my powerful craving to jump Reed’s cocky bones. Not until I’ve figured out my best strategy with him . . .

The truth is Reed has something I desperately want. Something my heart desires even more than my body craves one night of delicious fun with the yummiest man alive. Reed assumes he’s running this game of seduction. He thinks he’s a thirty-four-year-old big cat on the prowl, and I’m nothing but a blushing twenty-one-year old field mouse with stars in my eyes.

Yeah . . . no.

As Reed is about to find out, he’s not the only cat on the hunt in this game of cat-and-mouse . . . .

BAD LIAR is the first book of the standalone REED RIVERS TRILOGY. The full trilogy is BAD LIAR, BEAUTIFUL LIAR, and BELOVED LIAR, to be read in order.

 

 

READ AN EXCERPT ON BOOK + MAIN:
LINK TO BITE: https://bookandmainbites.com/story/42892

Not on Book+Main? No problem! It’s free for readers and you can easily download it now! With Book+Main you can search your favorite subgenres and tropes to find something to read while you wait for Lauren’s release. If you haven’t read all of her books, search Lauren Rowe on Book+Main and you can sample Bites—excerpts, of her other books! Make sure you like the Bites you love so that Book+Main knows what types of books you’re looking for!
Sign up here: https://bookandmainbites.com

 

 

 

About the Author:
USA Today and internationally bestselling author Lauren Rowe lives in San Diego, California, where, in addition to writing books, she performs with her dance/party band at events all over Southern California, writes songs, takes embarrassing snapshots of her ever-patient Boston terrier, Buster, spends time with her wonderful family, and narrates audiobooks.

Much to Lauren’s thrill, her books have been translated all over the world in multiple languages and hit multiple domestic and international bestseller lists. With enticing characters, enthralling situations and a general love of romantic fiction, Lauren has created a world of her own, full of wit and sensual desire.

Connect w/ Lauren:
Website: https://www.laurenrowebooks.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laurenrowebooks
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/760337070730959
Twitter: https://twitter.com/laurenrowebooks
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/laurenrowebooks
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9699494.Lauren_Rowe

Amazon: https://amzn.to/37v8PcH

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lauren-rowe

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#ExcerptReveal INAPPROPRIATE by Vi Keeland @ViKeeland #ComingSoon #ViKeeland #Inappropriate #CantWait

Excited about Vi Keeland’s upcoming release,
Inappropriate?

Check out this SNEAK PEEK

 

I wondered if he’d be here.

I was mid-conversation with some former colleagues I hadn’t seen in a few years
when I got my answer. The sight of him made me lose my train of thought.

On the other side of the room, Grant Lexington stood wearing a classic black tuxedo. He
was talking to an older gentleman, which gave me the opportunity to really take him
in—tall, broad shoulders, yet not overly bulky, a narrow waist with one hand resting
casually in his pants pocket. Even from a distance, his confidence registered. There was
something about the way certain men held themselves that showed they were in charge, and
that really worked for me. It could take a man who was a seven and make him an eleven in
my book. On the other hand, a handsome ten with a meek personality could be reduced to a
five.

Mr. Confident held a drink in his left hand and raised it to his mouth, but he stopped
before drinking. He seemed to sense something and looked around the room. When his eyes
caught mine, a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He excused himself from the
conversation and strode toward me.

My body tingled as I watched him approach with long strides, and I turned from the group
I’d been standing with.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he said.

I tried to appear casual as I sipped my champagne. “I’m filling in for
Bickman.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Grant eyed the group next to me. “Are you here with a date?”

“No. You?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Would a compliment be unwelcome? I
wouldn’t want to sexually harass you.”

“Compliments are always welcome, Mr. Lexington.”

His eyes sparkled. Taking hold of my elbow, he led me a few feet away from the group
I’d been standing with. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like
me.”

“What was the compliment anyway?”

Grant’s eyes swept over me. “You look beautiful tonight.”

I blushed. “Thank you.”

Grant stopped a waiter as he passed. He gulped back the rest of the amber liquid in his
glass and slipped the flute of champagne from my hand, setting them both down on the
waiter’s tray.

“I was drinking that.”

He motioned for the waiter to move along and returned his attention to me.
“I’ll get you more when we’re done.”

“Done with what?”

He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

He smirked. “I’m fucking positive it’s not.”

 

★★★

 

Excited? We are too!

  

RELEASING JANUARY
20th!

  

Pre-orders available now:

Apple Books pre-order ➜ https://apple.co/32Yd3GJ

Audio pre-order ➜ http://hyperurl.co/o2wokp

B&N pre-order ➜ https://fave.co/2MYCXoz

Kobo pre-order ➜ https://fave.co/39JzjJ4

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Paperback pre-order ➜ https://fave.co/32ZdzEv

Add to Goodreads ➜ https://fave.co/35dJdPU

Please note: There will not be an Amazon ebook pre-
order, but it will be available on Amazon on release day.

  

Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one
notified when it goes live! ➜ https://www.subscribepage.com/i6h3o5< /p>

 

Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of
Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text
when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!

 

 

 

 

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York
Times,
 #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA
Today 
Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared
in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty-five languages. She
resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her
own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

 

Facebook Fan Group:

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oups/ViKeelandFanGroup/

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Keeland/435952616513958

 

Website

http://www.vikeeland.com

 

Twitter

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Goodreads

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com/author/show/6887119.Vi_Keeland

 

#AnnaBrooks #LiveNow #RegrettingGabriel #Teasers #Excerpt #5StarReview

RELEASE BLITZ
Title: Regretting Gabriel
Series: Reason to Ruin #2
Author: Anna Brooks
Genre: Angsty Rockstar Romance
Release Date: January 9, 2020

BLURB

He was the bad boy of rock-n-roll; cocky, short-tempered, and the sexiest man I’d ever seen. I was just a librarian in a small town. He had no clue who I was, but I knew everything about him. After all, he was the reason I moved across the country.

I never thought he’d know my name, let alone whisper it while he held me tight and made me forget about the agony of my past. He was my protector, my reason, my calm before the storm… but nothing good lasts forever, and Gabriel Hunter was no exception.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34565374-regretting-gabriel

PURCHASE LINKS

US: https://amzn.to/38HX6Zq
UK: https://amzn.to/36DTOo9
CA: https://amzn.to/2QE89up
AU: https://amzn.to/2RUoRI0

Free in Kindle Unlimited

EXCERPT

My heart has held a place for him since I was fifteen years old. I never thought I’d actually be friends with him, let alone friends who held hands.
When we get to the library, I unfortunately have to unclasp our fingers so I can get my keys and open the door. I turn to tell him thank you when he pushes the door open and motions for me to precede him. “Ga—”
“Go.” He interrupts me, and instead of arguing, I go in and turn on the lights. After I set my purse beneath my desk, I stand fully and twitch at the shock of seeing him so close. “I’m gonna take off. You done at six?”
“You don’t need to wa—”
“Cady, baby, I don’t do anything I don’t want to. So stop telling me what I don’t need when I know exactly what I want.”
My breath freezes in my throat at the implication.
“So I’ll ask again, are you off at six?”
Unable to form a sentence, I simply nod.
And then he leans forward, just slightly, and I jump when his hand slides through my hair and his fingers cradle my head. His lips ever so gently brush against my cheek, and he glides his hand out of my hair, down my neck, and halfway over my collarbone before he lifts it again and cups my jaw, then runs his thumb across my lower lip. “Later, sugar.”

ALSO AVAILABLE

#1 Justifying Jamie

US: https://amzn.to/2qPj2R7
UK: https://amzn.to/2RQjMAs
CA: https://amzn.to/2PhuIFM
AU: https://amzn.to/36vGKB9

Free in Kindle Unlimited

💖💖💖💖Review by TashaM 💖💖💖💖

This is the second book in the Reason to Ruin series, and as much as Anna Brooks loves to write in this world I think I love reading it more. I love that each one has given such different reasons to love them. I adore her attention to details and dialogue. Each of them are so wonderfully different from each other and yet some how they all tie up so well.

This book is about Gabriel who met as part of the Band in the 1st book ( Jamie’s Book). He and his amazing heroine are so alike because they are so damaged and yet such different personalities. They really give meaning to Ying Yang. Cady is a librarian and has been in love with Gave since she first saw him at the age of 15, mind you he didn’t even know until the day They met as adults. That have been through their own versions of he’ll. They both have stayed away from relationships and have both built walls of protection around them.
That all comes crumbling down the moment their fingers touch just from passing a phone.

That is how strong and instant their chemistry is. Watching them grow and open up, break walls and shatter through each others demons is nothing short of beautiful. They are amazing together. The level of trust and understanding was amazing. You can’t help but smile with a full heart for them.

The side characters add to the even better Dimension of this wonderful story.
I loved everything about it and I can’t wait for the next book in this series.

Enjoy!!!!

AUTHOR BIO

The first time Anna tried to read a romance novel, her hair caught on fire when she leaned over a candle to sneak a peek at her mom’s Harlequin. She thinks being hit on the head with a shirtless Fabio until the smoke cleared is what sparked the flame for her love of romance.

Anna was born in Wisconsin, but currently lives in Texas with her husband and two boys. She writes sexy romance that always has a happy ending and loves bringing characters back for cameos. Less than six degrees of separation connects any of her novels.

When she’s not writing or reading, she’s watching reruns of her favorite romcoms, talking to her dog and cat like they’re human, eating carbs, or practicing hand lettering.

She loves to hear from readers and can be found on social media as @annabrooksauth everywhere.

AUTHOR LINKS

Newsletter: https://annabrooksauthor.com/newsletter
Website: http://www.annabrooksauthor.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annabrooksauth
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annabrooksauth
Twitter: https://twitter.com/annabrooksauth
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1V6LXpp