vrijdag 8 juni 2018

Cover Reveal ~ Rush by Samantha Towle

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#CoverReveal RUSH by @samtowlewrites is coming soon! #hotcover #gorgeouscovermodel #soundssogood #addtotbr #preorder


SYNOPSIS 


With the first pick in the 2015 NFL Draft, the New York Giants select…”

It’s been three years since quarterback Ares Kincaid’s NFL dream came true, and he’s living the high life. The days of cleaning up after his drunk of a father are long gone, and he has no intention of going back. A car crash and DUI charge meant a lengthy stint in rehab for Arianna Petrelli, and her dream of being a professional artist slips further away when she’s sacked from her position at a gallery. Her need for a job stronger even than her dislike of football, Ari goes to work for her father, the head coach of the New York Giants. Ares hates alcoholics, which is fine with Ari because she thinks he’s a brainless jock. Yet when Ares rescues Ari from a situation with her ex-boyfriend, an unlikely friendship begins – one that quickly becomes more. But messing around with the coach’s daughter can only lead to one thing…trouble.


PRE-ORDER 


  RUSH has a SPECIAL pre-order price of $0.99/£0.99! 
This is the only time it will be on sale. Price will rise to $3.99/£2.99 on release day. 

 Amazon UK: http://amzn.eu/6eaB91g 
Amazon US: http://a.co/6w3tHVy
 iBooks UK: https://goo.gl/jxnHgz 
Add to your TBR: https://goo.gl/zLrv8i   

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 


SAMANTHA TOWLE is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She began her first novel in 2008 while on maternity leave. She completed the manuscript five months later and hasn’t stopped writing since. She is the author of contemporary romances, The Storm Series and The Revved Series, and stand-alones, Trouble, When I Was Yours, The Ending I Want, Unsuitable, Wardrobe Malfunction, Breaking Hollywood, Under Her, Ruin and Sacking the Quarterback, which was written with James Patterson. She has also written paranormal romances, The Bringer and The Alexandra Jones Series. All of her books are penned to the tunes of The Killers, Kings of Leon, Adele, The Doors, Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, Lana Del Rey, and more of her favorite musicians. A native of Hull and a graduate of Salford University, she lives with her husband, Craig, in East Yorkshire with their son and daughter.

Release Blitz ~ WATCH THE SKIES by Tanith Davenport #Giveaway

Watch the Skies Tour Graphic
WATCH THE SKIES
Tanith Davenport
Watch the Skies
Genre: Erotic Romance
Publication Date: May 8, 2018
She wants him. He wants her. They want to watch.
Alien hunter Aster is frustrated in more ways than one. Her team hasn't had a proper encounter in months, and her cute teammate Wade is never going to see her that way - and no other man would let a woman like Aster take charge in a relationship anyway.
Until one night, out in the woods, when the team is engulfed in a white light - and overwhelmed with desire like they've never known. Suddenly Aster sees a new side to Wade, one that will let her give her alpha tendencies free rein...
But as the creatures they met return again and again, Aster begins to wonder what they really want - to see her and Wade together, or something more sinister?

Purchase Links

Book Excerpt

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Book Tour Schedule

Follow the upcoming book tour from June 9 - 22, 2018.
Join us and visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and more! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Watch the Skies Book Page at Book Unleashed.

About Tanith Davenport

Tanith Davenport
Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists' Association New Writers' Scheme. Her debut novel "The Hand He Dealt" was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.
Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.
Tanith's idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side.
Social Media Links: Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

WIN $10 GIFT CARD AND MORE
Watch the Skies Giveaway Graphic
Prizes up for grabs:
1. $10 Amazon Gift Card
2. Watch the Skies (eBook Copy)
Contest runs from June 6 - 22, 2018.

In partnership with
Book Unleashed Logo

donderdag 7 juni 2018

Blog Tour ~ Venomous Hunger by Mary Auclair #Giveaway

Venomous Hunger
VENOMOUS HUNGER
Mary Auclair
Series: Eok Warriors Book 2
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Eclipse Press
Publication Date: May 25, 2018
His lust devours their worlds. Her love will free them both.
After being left for dead by her people, Aliena wakes up under the care of alien pirates. She escapes, only to be captured by a creature straight from her darkest nightmares, bent on the destruction of everything she holds dear.
An Eok warrior turned pirate, Kamal is one to be reckoned with. He is on a mission for the Eok nation, and his only goal is to find and save the humans before he can return to his life, a life he excels at. He has no intention to allow a headstrong human female to get in his way.
As Aliena embarks on a mission to rescue her uncle from Minister Knut’s clutches, Kamal is at a crossroads. If he chooses help the human, the price might well be his own life.
When the Mating Venom unleashes its torment, Kamal has to decide. Will he change his ways and claim Aliena’s heart, or is the life of an outlaw too hard to leave behind?
Publisher’s Note: This steamy, thrilling sci-fi romance is the second in the Eok Warriors series, however it can be read and enjoyed as a standalone.

Tour Schedule

Join the Book Tour from May 30 - June 12, 2018!
Join us and visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews and other extras about the book! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Venomous Hunger Book Page at Book Unleashed.
Venomous Hunger Tour Graphic

About Mary Auclair

Mary Auclair
Mary grew up in the quiet peace of a small rural village in the heart of Quebec, Canada.
She spent her childhood chasing butterflies and catching frogs, playing in the mud and generally being as unladylike as she could. Her love of science led her to complete a mechanical engineering degree at the Ecole Polytechnique of Montreal, where she met the love of her life.
Years later, as she enjoyed the role of full time mom to her two wonderful children, she decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer.
She now write as much as her busy schedule allows to bring to life her inner world, filled with exotic planets, mysterious creatures and off course, hot, alpha heroes and the women who melt their hearts.
When she's not writing, she can be found in the garden, walking her dogs or playing with fire in her kitchen as a part time hit-or-miss chef.
She loves to hear from her readers, so don't be shy and drop her a line!
Official website: https://www.maryauclair.com
Social Media Links: Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Amazon Author Page

Giveaway

WIN $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD
Venomous Hunger Giveaway Graphic
Contest runs from May 15 - June 12, 2018.

In partnership with
Book Unleashed Logo

woensdag 6 juni 2018

Cover Reveal ~ A Thousand Reasons by Mariah Dietz

ATR Cover Release Banner

  A Thousand Reasons, a new contemporary romance by Mariah Dietz is coming June 21st!  

  A-Thousand-Reasons-PRINT-FOR-WEB

A-Thousand-Reasons-3D-book
Title: A Thousand Reasons 

Author: Mariah Dietz 

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Cover Designer: Hang Le with byhngle.com 

Blurb: 

My life is like a coin. There are two sides. On one side, I am Leela Walsh: daughter, sister, employee at three minimum-wage jobs. I cook. Do laundry. Contribute to the debt my family is sinking in. On the second side, I am Leela Walsh: Straight-A student, top graduate of my class, med student. No one knows of my brother’s sordid past. My sister’s poor decisions. Or that I’m the first in my family to graduate high school. The balance between these two sides is nearly impossible to maintain. And it only becomes more difficult when I meet Wes McCleary. He’s never had a job. Never wanted for anything. And now, he wants me.   There are a thousand reasons we shouldn’t be together, and just one that keeps bringing us together. Will that one reason be enough? 

 Add A Thousand Reasons to your GoodReads: Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2Id3OJj


About Mariah:

author picMariah Dietz lives in North Carolina with her husband and three sons who are the axis of her crazy and wonderful world. Mariah grew up in a tiny town outside of Portland, Oregon where she spent most of her time immersed in the pages of books that she both read and created. She has a love for all things that include her family, good coffee, books, traveling, and dark chocolate. She’s also obsessed with Christmas ornaments and all things Disney.













Connect with Mariah: 

 Facebook: https://bit.ly/29BAVUJ 
Facebook Group: https://bit.ly/1NEj1Uc 

Book Blitz ~ The Gathering by Bernadette Giacomazzo #Giveaway


The Gathering
Bernadette Giacomazzo
(The Uprising, #1)
Publication date: March 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Dystopian
The Uprising Series tells the story of three freedom fighters and their friends in high — and low — places that come together to overthrow a vainglorious Emperor and his militaristic Cabal to restore the city, and the way of life, they once knew and loved.
In The Gathering, Jamie Ryan has defected from the Cabal and has joined his former brothers-in-arms — Basile Perrinault and Kanoa Shinomura — to form a collective known as The Uprising. When an explosion leads to him crossing paths with Evanora Cunningham — a product of Jamie’s past — he discovers that The Uprising is bigger, and more important, than he thought.






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Sign up for the blog tour here!


EXCERPT:

Jamie
I saw Emperor – looking like a hot air balloon, sounding as ridiculous as ever – blathering on about his personal Reichstag fire, and laying the blame of the explosion squarely at the feet of myself and my brothers-in-arms.
“…and it’s these traitors of the state – the threat to the security of my Empire of the United States of America – the defectors of the Cabal who go by Jamie Ryanand Basile Perrinault and, my greatest betrayal, Supreme Allied Commander Kanoa Shinomura…” he hollered into the microphone, which seemed to reverberate throughout the city.
At the sound of Kanoa’s name, the Cabal members below the balcony slammed the butts of their guns on the floor in rhythm. I knew that rhythm all too well – it was meant to be a war cry for those of us in the rank-and-file of the Cabal – but, to the untrained ear, it sounded like a machine gun going off…which was exactly the point.
But I couldn’t help but sneer at the accusation that the blast that nearly killed Evanora and Tommy was somehow our fault. He’d spent decades trying to catch us and failing miserably, yet in the same breath, believed we were inept enough to set off a blast that took no lives and could be cleaned up during a balmy New York evening. And he managed to sell this ridiculous belief to the crowd, no less.
“Let’s make something clear, asshole,” I muttered, “if it had been me and the boys that lit your shit up, you wouldn’t be standing here today.”
Despite the absurdity of the accusation – and despite the obvious absurdity of the accusation – the victims of psi just grunted along, agreeing with everything and anything that came out of Emperor’s mouth, in part because they didn’t know any better (they were psi victims, after all), and in part because any disagreement with what Emperor had to say was met with a fierce, painful punishment.
“His Word, Before All and Above All,” I muttered. “With liberty and justice for no one, so kiss my peasant Old New York ass and take a breath mint afterward, unless you like that funky aftertaste…”
My voice trailed off as my eyes focused on a strange woman on the balcony.
At first, I couldn’t discern who she was – she looked like someone I’d seen before, yet someone I’d never seen before.
Her hair was a garish white-blonde, stringy and lifeless, and pinned tightly behind her head with a set of black ceramic chopsticks. Her makeup was almost cartoonish – cat-like black eyeliner and matte black lipstick sat atop a ghostly white foundation. Even her outfit was a hideously hilarious cultural appropriation – a black silk kimono paired with a set of black stiletto heels. I’d seen Old New York 42nd Street prostitutes, with terrible heroin problems, sell the “Asian coquette” look better than what I’d seen before me now.
“Who the actual…” I began, hesitantly, unable to process who I was seeing before me.
And then it hit me, all at once, who she was.
For the first time in a long time, I was literally speechless.
When I could finally find my voice again, it barely came out in a whisper. “Rosie,” I squeaked.
I walked into the Ludlow Street apartment I shared with Angelique and was instantly greeted with the smell of a meat dish that, I would later learn, was calledcarne asada.
“Angelique!” I called out over the loud sizzling of steak as I kicked off my black Frye boots and set my matching acoustic guitar down. “Where are you, my love?”
“In here!” she called, out of sight, from the kitchen, where more clanging and banging sounds echoed over her voice.
I began walking through the apartment, shedding layers as I went along until I reached the kitchen wearing nothing but my black leather pants and a mischievous smile. I was hoping to have a little appetizer of crème d’Angelique before dinner, but when I reached the kitchen, I realized – much to my chagrin – that we weren’t alone.
Angelique, her hair tied back into a messy ponytail, was wearing a tight, white, see-through shorts jumper and a matching white apron. She was standing next to an unfamiliar-looking woman with a matching messy ponytail, but whose thick chocolate brown hair stood in sharp contrast to Angelique’s thin flaxen locks. The rest of her, too, was in stark contrast to Angelique, but not in a bad way – she was olive-skinned, in contrast to Angelique’s pale white skin; she was curvy, in contrast to Angelique’s ectomorphic figure; she was fiery, in contrast to Angelique’s ethereal nature.
They were standing side by side, working on something that smelled simply delicious. Angelique was mixing flour, sugar, and garlic powder, and her friend was adding melted butter and salted water to the resultant powder, then kneading it until it formed a dough.
“Am I interrupting something?” I asked as I walked behind Angelique, wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck, breathing in her scent of lilacs as I did so.
She smiled, then took her index finger and bopped the tip of my nose with the flour mixture. “Hey handsome,” she said, beatifically. “We’re making something special for you for dinner. We’ve got carne asada in the pan over there – we’ve got some arroz con gandules in the rice cooker – and we’re making…wait, girl, what’s this called?”
Arepas,” her friend said, smiling as she continued to knead the dough between her hands, her silver thumb ring glistening in the light of the dusk as she did so.
“Right, arepas,” Angelique repeated. “Ramira here is teaching me all her magic ways – she says this is the exact dinner I need to make if I want my man to marry me.” She giggled, then elbowed Ramira, who giggled along with Angelique.
I couldn’t help but giggle, as well, as I unentwined myself from Angelique and walked over to Ramira to properly introduce myself. “I’m going to be stuffed fordays with all this delicious food, so it’s only right that we become friends,” I began, extending my hand. “Hi there. I’m James Randall Ryan IV, I somehow lucked out enough to convince this lovely lady Angelique to be my girlfriend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Jamie.”
Ramira smiled, then shook my hand with two of her fingers, taking care not to smear the wet dough across my palm. “Well, my name is Ramira Diaz, Angelique is my best friend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too. You can call me Rosie, though. Everyone else does.”
I sat under a wilting star magnolia tree and stared, intently, through the open window of a room that had to be Rosie’s dressing room. She peeled her black silk kimono off and turned her back to the frameless window, exposing her prominent ribs and shoulder blades as she did so. The sight of her suddenly-bare, emaciated frame shocked me, especially given how pronounced her curves were in our younger years, and tears welled up in my eyes yet again.
In the decades since Angelique and my son had died, I could count the number of times I’d cried on one hand. In the past 72 hours, though – as I realized that my best friend’s kid, and my best friend’s girlfriend, were alive and well, and that the Uprising was bigger than I’d ever imagined – the tears came quickly and flowed easily, and I couldn’t decide if this was a sign of strength or weakness on my part.
Rosie slipped a shimmering white camisole over her emaciated frame, which she then tucked into a pair of white linen slacks. I couldn’t get over how thin she’d gotten, then wondered if this was by her own design, or if she was under orders from that evil husband of hers. No way would Jordan be cool with this, I thought to myself. On his fucking grave would this go on. On his fucking grave. And wouldn’t you know it – here we are, on his fucking grave.
I saw Rosie leave the room and begin to head down a flight of stairs, and I took that as an opportunity to get her alone, away from the rabid Cabal and out of sight of the vainglorious Emperor. She’d taken a few steps away from her building, and into Emperor’s Park, before passing by the wilting star magnolia tree that I was hiding behind. It was only when I saw the back of her slicked back, perfect ponytail – what a difference from the one she was wearing when we first met, I thought – that I saw the opportunity to get her alone and began walking behind her.
“You’ve come a long way from making arepas on Ludlow Street,” I said, tapping her on the shoulder when I finally caught up with her.
She spun around, her face scrunched up in fear, and for a split second, I thought she was going to hit me. But just as quickly, she relaxed as her eyes registered who owned the disembodied voice. “Jamie,” she whispered tearfully. “You’re here. You’re alive. I didn’t realize…”
“How the hell did you not?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and side-eyeing her. “Your damned husband has been hunting me for decades.”
“I knew that,” she said, taking ragged breaths. “But just the fact that he was never able to take you alive led me to believe that you were…you know…” Her voice trailed off.
I wasn’t convinced, and I continued to stare at her intently as I scratched my left cheek, which was now beginning to show the first signs of salt-and-pepper beard stubble. “First of all, why the hell are you talking like you’re Queen Elizabeth? Second, let me just state it for the record: you give your asshole husbandway too much credit if you think he can take me down.”
Rosie bit her lower lip, then shifted her eyes down. I put my hand under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing her eyes to meet mine as I tried, desperately, to search for a sign of the Rosie I once knew. “Rosie,” I whispered intently. “It’s me. You don’t have to hide from me.”
Her face was a blank slate. “My name is Rose. Rose Cunningham,” she said with flat affect.
“Oh, bullshit,” I whispered, even more intently. “Whatever happened to ‘call me Rosie, everyone else does’? What happened to that woman who was makingarepas in the kitchen with my Angelique?”
That got her attention, and her deep brown eyes flashed with fire as she balled up her fists and began swinging at me. “You shit! You bastard! You did it! You almost killed my baby!”
I ducked, bobbed and weaved, avoiding each blow as I carefully tried to talk her down from the ledge. “Rosie! What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t do that shit! I swear!”
She continued to swing at me. “Yes! Yes, you did!” she squealed tearfully, repeating the same “yes, yes” with each swing, her voice getting louder each time.
“Do you want to knock it off before the fuckin’ Cabal finds us, Rosie? The fuck is wrong with you? Jesus Christ!” I was shouting despite myself and began scanning the landscape frantically for Cabal soldiers that would have undoubtedly heard us, all while bobbing and weaving like a prizefighter to avoid getting punched in the face.
She swung even harder and squealed even louder. “You tried to kill my baby! Just like you killed yours!”
That line finally got me to react, and I had to steady my breathing to stop from clocking her in the mouth. Even in the throes of the worst of my Faustian behavior, I never hit a woman, and neither did any of my bandmates – the thought of violence against a woman, let alone a woman we’d loved, didn’t even cross our drug-addled minds.
Instead, I grabbed her wrists and forced them down to her sides, holding them in place at hip level as she struggled, trying to hit me, until she finally began whimpering in defeat.
“Now you listen to me, Ramira Diaz, and you listen well,” I began, angrily. “You may have forgotten everything you were and are, but I sure as fuck haven’t forgotten a goddamn thing, and let me rest assure you, I never fuckin’ will.”
Her lower lip was trembling, her eyes were watering, and it became evident that she was on the verge of tears. Still, I continued. “So, let me get a few things out of the way now, so we’re not confused. Number one: that blast? It wasn’t me. It wasn’t anyone tied to me. It wasn’t anyone whose name I can even spell. Because let me assure you, again, that if it were me, or anyone tied to me, we’d have burned down the entire fuckin’ city, even if it meant killing ourselves in the process, and wouldn’t have left a survivor anywhere on this God-forsaken island.
“Number two: you know goddamn well I didn’t kill Angelique or our baby. Now I wear their death on my heart every. Fucking. Day. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in twenty fucking years, from the day they were killed, because I can’t get their murders out of my mind. There are times I wish I was dead, just so that I don’t have to live with the guilt of their murders, but no, here I am, and ain’t that a fuckin’ bitch from Hell. I’d give all the money in the world to have my Angelique back. I’d trade my life for Jordan’s any day of the week. And my son – my only legacy – never had a chance at life, and you think that’s all fair?
“Number three – and this is the most important part, Rosie, goddamnit, you’d better fuckin’ listen to this if you listen to nothing else: remember that promise I made to you in the hospital room? All those years ago? Because I fuckin’ do. And that’s why when Evanora and Tommy came down the Bowery after the blast, and I realized who she was, I made sure she was safe and clean and warm…”
Rosie looked shocked. “Wait. She came to you?”
I searched her face, trying to see if I could register where her loyalties lie before I continued to answer the question. For some reason, however, I couldn’t make it out. I even tried to read Rosie’s mind using a gentle form of psi, but I still couldn’t read her mind at all. It was like trying to probe a brick wall. So, to protect Evanora – and the rest of us – I chose to cover my tracks. “Yeah,” I said airily, “she mentioned something about listening to Uprising Radio.”
The name of Uprising Radio registered some type of recognition with Rosie, and her eyes lit up slightly. “My baby has heard Uprising Radio?”
“I don’t know for sure,” I continued, still adopting an airy affect, “but I’m pretty sure that’s what she said.” Using my Cabal training, I put a mental wall between my thoughts and Rosie, mostly because I didn’t know how much training she’d had in the psi arts, and I wasn’t sure if she, too, could read my mind. And if, God forbid, her loyalties lied with that pathetic excuse of her husband, I could at least protect, if not myself, then the whole Uprising movement.
I made sure the wall was firmly in place before I continued. “I think I’ve heard Uprising Radio a few times, but I don’t know much about it, who does it, or anything of the sort.”
“Yeah,” Rosie said, hesitantly, behind a mental brick wall of her own, “I have no idea, either.”
We were calmer, now – our breath was steady, our thoughts were collected, and Rosie’s fists were limp. I finally felt confident that she wasn’t going to try to hit me again, so I loosened my grip on her wrists.
But I suddenly found myself unable to let her go, so I slid my hands from her wrists to her hands and grabbed her fingers lightly. I was overcome with emotion.
“What is it, Jamie?” Her voice was cracking.
I exhaled loudly, then drew in a ragged breath. “Do you think about him, Rosie? Do you think about Jordan at all?”
She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall as she exhaled shakily. “Every day of my life,” she said softly. “There’s not a day that goes by that Jordan doesn’t cross my mind. Every time I look at Evanora – every time I hear her laugh – he comes to my mind. Sometimes, she gives me this look – you remember, Jamie? You remember when Jordan would hear something that was just too stupid for words, and he would get this look on his face, like, ‘were you dropped on your head as a child?’” – and to this, I gave a half-smile and a nod – “and now, she gets that look. And that one eyebrow” – she took her finger and drew on her left eyebrow – “it would just go up like…like…”
She dropped her hand as her voice trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.
I nodded my head, closed my eyes, and sighed. “Fuckin’ guy,” I said, opening my eyes and looking at Rosie. “So. You didn’t see me, right?”
Rosie smiled and winked at me. “Ivan Sapphire? Please. Get over yourself, rock star.” She squeezed my hands one last time for good measure. “I’m going to leave now. I’m not going to look back because I don’t want to see where you’re going. This way, if someone with bad intentions against you asks me if I know where you are, I can answer honestly when I say I don’t know. But just because I don’t look back, doesn’t mean I want to see you go. I need you to understand that, Jamie Ryan. I don’t need you to over-analyze things that don’t need over-analyzing. I need you to let me go, Jamie Ryan, and I need you to know that I love you, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”
She finally let go of my hands, gave me a slight nod, then turned and walked back to her home. I watched her, silently, keeping the promise I made so long ago to Jordan Barker and didn’t leave what was once known as Central Park until I saw, for sure, that she was safe inside.


Author Bio:
With an impressive list of credentials earned over the course of two decades, Bernadette R. Giacomazzo is a multi-hyphenate in the truest sense of the word: an editor, writer, photographer, publicist, and digital marketing specialist who has demonstrated an uncanny ability to thrive in each industry with equal aplomb. Her work has been featured in Teen Vogue, People, Us Weekly, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Post, and many, many more. She served as the news editor of Go! NYC Magazine for nearly a decade, the executive editor of LatinTRENDS Magazine for five years, the eye candy editor of XXL Magazine for two years, and the editor-at-large at iOne/Zona de Sabor for two years. As a publicist, she has worked with the likes of Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson and his G-Unit record label, rapper Kool G. Rap, and various photographers, artists, and models. As a digital marketing specialist, Bernadette is Google Adwords certified, has an advanced knowledge of SEO, PPC, link-building, and other digital marketing techniques, and has worked for a variety of clients in the legal, medical, and real estate industries.
Based in New York City, Bernadette is the co-author of Swimming with Sharks: A Real World, How-To Guide to Success (and Failure) in the Business of Music (for the 21st Century), and the author of the forthcoming dystopian fiction series, The Uprising. She also contributed a story to the upcoming Beyonce Knowles tribute anthology, The King Bey Bible, which will be available in bookstores nationwide in the summer of 2018.

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dinsdag 5 juni 2018

Release Blitz ~ Dirty Exes by Rachel Van Dyken



Title: Dirty Exes
Series: Liars, Inc #1
Author: Rachel Van Dyken
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: June 5, 2018



Blurb

They’re serving up some red-hot revenge. A sizzling series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Rachel van Dyken.

Blaire has never quite gotten over Jessie Beckett, the ex–NFL star whose kisses were hot enough to ignite the entire Eastern Seaboard. When he chose work over her, Blaire was left brokenhearted. Why else would she have married a skeezy two-timer, just to divorce him less than a year later?

Now Blaire is getting even by becoming one half of Dirty Exes, a PI firm fully committed to humiliating cheating jerks. If only the new jerk she’s been hired to uncover wasn’t Jessie Beckett himself.

Exposing Jessie isn’t going to be easy, especially when she still daydreams about his sexy smile. Further complicating matters is Colin, Jessie’s best friend. He’s gorgeous, a little bit cunning, and willing to help Blaire get the inside scoop on Jessie—for a price.

Now caught between two men—one totally right and the other totally wrong—Blaire will need to decide just how much she’s willing to risk…and whom she’s willing to risk it for.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

“What’s with you and nakedness?”
“It’s how we’re born.” I smirked. “Easy.”
“I was also born with crooked teeth and no hair, so I should revert back to that?”
“Actually,” I licked my lips, “You were born without teeth, unless God made you extra special…” I pushed away from the counter. “Did he?”
She plastered her ass against the door and looked up at me. “Did he what?”
“Make you extra special?”
“Why are we in the bathroom?”
“It think it was a power move on your part, lock me in here, tell me how things are going to be, maybe add in a spanking and teach me my lesson—“
“—why do I even talk to you?” Blaire wondered out loud. 
“Because I’m not boring. Like some football players…”
“You never played football.”
“Guilty. I was more of a rugby sort of guy, what prick wears padding?”
She eyed me skeptically, “No offense but don’t Rugby players have a bit more…” She gulped and looked down past my waist, “Okay this is coming out wrong but… thicker—“
The more she talked the redder she got like she couldn’t bring her eyes up any higher without doing permanent damage to her retinas. 
I grinned so hard my face hurt. “Thicker?”
“Um,” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Legs, damn it, legs!”
“Totally thought you were going somewhere else with that, spy girl.”
She made a face and crossed her arms. “Stop calling me that, it makes me feel young, stupid, and inexperienced.”
“Like a virgin?” I said helpfully. “Touched for the very first time?” She muttered out a dear God what did I do in a past life to deserve him.
I took it as a compliment and pressed my hands against the door on either side of her head. “I think you’re asking yourself the wrong question.”
She frowned, “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you’re thinking it.” I whispered. “You’re wondering what the hell you’re doing in here instead of out there.”
She swallowed and looked away. 
I tilted her face back towards mine, my finger and thumb cradling her chin. “The past always looks better through I got fucked over glasses.” I got a bit closer, so close I could taste the mint from her gum. “You think you still want him. You’re wrong.”
She inhaled sharply. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you blush from here,” I tapped her chin then ran my hand down the slim column of her neck until it pressed against her chest. “To here, when you get embarrassed,” I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Or turned on.”
She blushed immediately. 
I kissed her neck and said. “Told you so.”
She shoved me away so fast I almost got whiplash. “This,” She took another deep breath. “This is business.”
“This?” I pointed between her and me. “Is more than business, but whatever helps you sleep at night spy girl… just be sure to let me know when you want it to get more personal because I’d love to see every inch of blush infused skin, and I’d love to eat my way—“
“—No.” Shed jammed her finger at me. “When I called you, you literally had to kick a woman out of bed.”
“Two, actually.” I shrugged, “Not that it matters.”
“See!”
“So? I like women.”
“I’m not them.”
“No,” I said seriously. “You’re not. If you were, this would already be finished.”
“There is no… this, or us, beyond you helping me get info on Jessie and Vanessa.”
“Sure.” I nodded. “Fine.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because I just lied.” I admitted with a grin, “But at least you know where I stand.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”
“In front of you.” I smirked. “Obviously.” I walked towards her again and reached for the door knob, “Look I’m just a guy standing in front of a girl asking her to—“
“—finish that sentence and I’m going to show you my kung fu skills.”



Author Bio


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

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

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

You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. And make sure to check out her website.


Author Links


FREEBIE Book Blitz ~ Broken World by Kate L. Mary


Title: Broken World
Author: Kate L Mary
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR


Blurb:

Follow a group of survivors on a journey that spans eleven books and twenty years as they search for safety in a world overrun by the dead...

When a deadly virus sweeps the country, Vivian sets out for California in hopes of seeing the daughter she gave up for adoption. Then her car breaks down and she’s faced with a choice: give up or accept a ride from redneck brothers, Angus and Axl. Vivian knows getting in the car with strangers is a risk, but with time running out, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to reach her daughter.
The virus is spreading, and by the time the group makes it to California, most of the population has already been wiped out. When the dead start coming back, Vivian and the others realize that no electricity or running water are the least of their concerns. Now Vivian must learn how to be a mom under the most frightening circumstances, cope with Angus's aggressive mood swings, and sort out her growing attraction to his brooding younger brother, Axl.
While searching for a safe place to go, the group meets a pompous billionaire who may be the answer to all their problems. Trusting him means going into the middle of the Mojave Desert and possibly risking their lives, but with the streets overrun and nowhere else to turn, he might be their only chance for survival...




Kate L. Mary is an award-winning author of New Adult and Young Adult fiction, ranging from Post-apocalyptic tales of the undead, to Speculative Fiction and Contemporary Romance. Her YA book, When We Were Human, was the 2015 Children's Moonbeam Book Awards Silver Medal Winner for Young Adult Fantasy/Sci-Fi Fiction, and the 2016 Readers' Favorite Gold Medal Winner for Young Adult Science Fiction.

Author Links:
Buy Links:
Shattered World: https://amzn.to/2Jm14No
Silent World: https://amzn.to/2Jc076V



Movement catches my eye. My heart goes into double time when my head jerks up. There’s a man across the street, walking slowly up the hill. He has his head bowed and he stares at the ground.
“A man,” I say, pointing at him.
Axl looks over and we both stand quietly for a few seconds, just watching him. He’s alone and unarmed, but my heart still pounds. We should just walk away. Leave him alone.
Axl cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey!”
The man stops and lifts his head, but he doesn’t look around. He just stands there. I hold my breath while we wait for him to respond, to acknowledge us in some way. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything. After a few seconds he starts walking again. The same sluggish pace as before: his head down, his arms slack and swinging at his sides. It’s creepy.
“Guess he don’t want company,” Axl says.
I nod, but something inside me tightens. It makes me think of that man we saw in the field a few days ago. He was walking the same way. Aimless. Defeated. There’s something unnerving about it.
My scalp tingles and the sensation of being watched sweeps over me. “Let’s get back inside.”
We walk into the lobby and both freeze in our tracks at the sight of a woman standing there. She’s wearing a uniform—looks like housekeeping—and stands perfectly still, staring at the ground. She slowly raises her head and I suck in a deep breath. She’s sick. Her face is pale and gray, her skin droops and her eyes are cloudy. She looks awful. Death can’t be too far away.
“Son of a bitch,” Axl mutters, pulling his gun out. His body goes rigid and his hands even shake a little.
“What’s wrong?”
“That’s the maid.”
What does he mean? She’s wearing a uniform; it’s obvious she’s a maid. “What?”
“The maid we took the key from,” he says, stepping back. “She was dead.”
I laugh a little, but it comes out strained and nervous. I can’t process what he’s saying. She’s clearly alive. She’s standing in front of us, staring at us.
“You’re wrong,” I say.
“I ain’t wrong,” he growls, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me back.
I shake him off and take a small step forward. “She’s sick.”
“Vivian, get back!”
I move forward again. “Are you okay? Can we help you?”
She doesn’t talk, but she tilts her head to the side and studies me. A chill runs up my spine, but I ignore it. Axl is freaking me out, but he’s crazy. There’s nothing to worry about.


maandag 4 juni 2018

Promo Tour ~ The Right Stud by Ilsa Madden-Mills & Tia Louise

 

    
RELEASE BLITZ
Title: The Right Stud
Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills & Tia Louise
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 4, 2018
Cover Design: Shanoff Formats
Photo: Wander Aguiar


   
ADD TO GOODREADS :


                 
AVAILABLE NOW

Get THE RIGHT STUD for the Special Release Week ONLY Price of $2.99 Now:
*FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

           
    
BLURB

Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and USA Today bestselling author Tia Louise are back with an all-new romantic comedy filled with Southern sass and steamy scenes that will have you laughing out loud and fanning yourself. Pour the sweet tea and get ready…

“The best way to get over your sh**ty ex-fiancé is to get under a shiny new stud…”

As soon as Mr. Tall, Blond, and Handsome walks into that bar, I know he’s the hook-up I need to get over stupid Cheater Kyle.
A few stolen kisses in a dark hallway, and I’m pretty sure we’re headed for a home run—until he disappears without a trace.
Whatever. Men are all snakes in the grass, and I don’t need a new one anyway.
I resolve to forget about his perfect lips (and chest of steel) and instead focus on turning my Granny’s old beach house into a profitable B&B.
What I don’t expect is for him to show up the next day in my kitchen!
You see, my sexy mystery man is none other than Jax Roland, the drop-dead gorgeous home improvement star of The Right Stud, and he’s got an offer I can’t refuse.
With a suitcase in one hand and a hammer in the other, he wants to move in and renovate my old house while he films his new show.
But my roommate has secrets, and they threaten to rip our blossoming friendship—and possible love—apart.
When push comes to shove, is Jax really The Right Stud or is he just another nail in the coffin of love?

              
        
EXCERPT

Ashton
Few things in life are as jaw-dropping amazing as Jax Roland emerging from the surf, muscles bulging, water running down the lines of his face, dripping from the ends of his hair… Jean Claude van Ram a rigid brown log in his arms, legs extended.
Okay, that last part I could’ve done without.
It takes less than a minute after he puts that asshole goat on the ground for JC to jump up and head straight for the shrub roses. I don’t even have time to say thank you before I’m charging up the hill after him.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
My overwhelming sadness at the prospect of losing Granny’s house, even my semi-gratitude toward Jax for averting Lulu’s anger over letting her precious goat drown, are forgotten in the race to save my grandmother’s flowers.
In addition to the house, they feel like my final connection to her, the plants she lovingly cultivated every year in her funny hat.
“Did you see that?” Mrs. C meets me at the gate. “He charged down there like Adonis heading into battle. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so stimulated. Reminds me of the time Mr. C talked me into taking a bite of a serrano pepper.”
I don’t have time to correct her Greek mythology or even ask why Mr. C was always taunting her with hot peppers. “Where did that bastard go?”
She jumps back, confused. “Rufus? I put him in his cage. It was time for his nap.”
“Jean Claude! He’ll eat everything!” Pushing past her, I continue running around the house, weighing my concern about Lulu’s anger versus killing that goat with my bare hands.
When I finally make it to the top of the hill, I see him, standing on the porch, his head plunged into the middle of my sweet olive, chomping away.
“Stop, you heartless bastard!” I catch him by the collar and drag him out of the deep-green leaves.
I look around, trying to decide what I’m going to do now. This jerk already chewed through the rope Lulu tied him with.
“Ashton.” The deep male voice pulls my attention to the top of the path.
Jax stands there looking all kinds of sexy with his tee stretched over his broad chest and his wet hair pushed back from his face. In his hand is a silver hook and a thin cable.
“What is that?” I drag the goat to where Jax is standing.
“I had it in the trunk of my car. It’s from a job I was doing. The owners had really big dogs.”
“He can get out of anything. I told Lulu not to bring him here again.”
“Lulu’s your friend?” He comes to where I’m standing and clips the hook through a loop on JC’s collar.
“Possibly ex-best friend.”
“You can’t really tether goats.” He gently extends the silver cable into the yard. From the soaked back pocket of his shorts, he pulls a metal stake. I watch as he loops the other end around it and pushes it into the ground. “How long do you expect to babysit him?”
“She’s got one hour left. Then we’re digging a pit. Roasted goat is delicious.”
The ripple of laughter from Jax’s throat does funny things to my insides...

   
READ THE 1st CHAPTER HERE:

     

         
ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and USA Today bestselling author Tia Louise kicked off their co-writing adventure in 2017 with the Amazon #4 bestseller THE LAST GUY. (They had so much fun writing that zany hit rom-com, they decided to do it again.)
Great friends, former English teachers, and southern gals in real life, they’ve teamed up to bring you laugh-out-loud naughty romances with strong leading ladies and sexy alpha males who know how to please their women—and who sometimes you just want to slap.

       
Connect with Ilsa

       
Connect with Tia
Text “TiaLouise” to 64600, and never miss a New Release, Sale, or Giveaway!