Release Blitz: More Than Money by Allison Michaels

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More than Money

by Allison Michaels
Found in Chicago #1
Publication Date: November 7, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Cover Design: Recreatives Designs
Cover Photography: R.M. Lynch

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Ryan McMillan believes hard work and perseverance are the keys to success, not games of chance. When he receives an instant lottery ticket, he never expects to win a dime, much less walk away with the grand prize.

Collette Russo is no stranger to hardship. Loss has taught her valuable lessons in grace and modesty, traits Ryan can’t help but notice on the winner’s cruise. Collette is the only other passenger not obsessed with material things, and their mutual humility sparks an attraction neither of them anticipates.

As good fortune continues to favor Ryan, his relationship with Collette turns into a romance filled with affection and laughter, and his career begins to take off.  Yet when his loyalty is tested, an old friendship turns sour.

Ryan chalks it up to greed and arrogance and finds comfort in Collette’s experience with both.  But an unthinkable event reveals that nothing is as simple as it seems.  Envy and greed threaten to ruin everything.

Has Ryan’s luck finally run out?  Can he take back control?  Will Collette stand by him in the aftermath?

Only time will tell if love is worth more than money.

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About Allison Michaels

Allison Michaels enjoys combining heart, humor, and heat in her stories. When she isn’t writing or attempting to put a dent in her daunting to-be-read list, she can be found watching a movie with her family or sharing a meal with her friends. Allison lives in a southwestern Chicago suburb with her husband and daughter.

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Book Tour: Watching the Sky Cry by J.B. Hartnett

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New from J.B. Hartnett!

Watching the Sky Cry is a beautifully written,

emotional story and is NOW AVAILABLE

& Free on Kindle Unlimited!

 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2cXnRNh

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2d3EQfk

 

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Blurb

Ten years is a long time when you’re thirty-two. We’d seen our share of ups and downs, but I could honestly say, they were mostly up. That’s the thing about happiness though. It lulls you into a false sense of security.

Neither one of us ever thought we’d ever be touched by crippling loss or immeasurable grief. But not all stories have a happy ending, and I knew, better than anyone, that sometimes, one of you won’t make it till the end. One of you has to go first. And one of you will be left behind to pick up the pieces.

That one is me.

But starting over isn’t what I thought it would be. I need escape from the memories that plague me, remind me. So I went back to where it all began. To the town where I was born. To the place whose beauty could pierce my pain. Where I experienced my first kiss, where I fell in love, where a man was my earth. And I…

I was his sky.

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Excerpt

You never had a girlfriend.” I whispered.

“No, Rylie. I didn’t.”

I pushed away from him, my mouth coating itself in preparation for what was to come, and ran toward the field behind his parents’ house. I threw up everything in my stomach, but I kept heaving with wracking sobs, unable to keep my shit together. If I’d listened….if I’d answered his letters…if I hadn’t met Nick…

His hands were in my hair, pulling it back, but it was no use. I was a mess in every way possible.

“This isn’t…” I hiccupped, “how I imagined this going.”

“Yeah?” he said softly. “How’d you imagine it?”

“We would have it out, and then we’d have angry sex, and then we’d fall in love and have babies and live happily ever after.”

See? Honesty.

“Oh Rylie,” he said with humor in his voice, not at all bothered when he wiped the edges of my disgusting mouth with his hand. “I’ll be pissing you off again…probably on purpose just so we can have that angry sex you just mentioned.”

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REVIEW

If you like you’re like me and a sucker for a second chance at love story, then J.B. Hartnett’s Watching the Sky Cry just the story for you. Get your tissues ready because Riley’s story of how she found love with Nick only to find it all falling apart and grieving, and then reconnecting with Quentin and finding love a second time is so emotionally charged and beautifully written.

The characters are complex and their journey to love is not smooth–which makes you want so much for them to find happiness. Really enjoyed this story, and I think you will too! A recommended read!

My rating? 4 stars!

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About the Author:

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Julie is a southern California native, a fan of a really good story (preferably a romance with a happily ever after), really good pie (preferably pumpkin)and copious amounts of coffee (preferably Folgers).

She has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she might be a singer/songwriter. The ‘writer’ part is that one that stuck.

Julie is obsessed with Pi…the equation and the food. She’s allergic to cats, cantaloupe and hates mushrooms. So if you ever want to give her a gift, those are out for sure.

She currently lives with her romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

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Release Blitz: Falling by Allyn Lesley

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release day blitz

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Book Title: Falling
Author: allyn lesley
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult
Release Date: September 27,, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

A good man falls seven times,
But I’m far from a good man.

I’ve got my own set of rules,
And I never stray from them.
I live by a simple set of guidelines and they’re easy to follow.

But when Chelsea Robinson walked into my garage,
The rules went out the door.
Suddenly, I was falling.
No, that’s not right.
It was more like a crash-landing,
Because I sure as hell couldn’t stop myself.
And now, I’m still falling,
Uncontrollably.
For a woman I shouldn’t even want.
But when love steps in, you have no option but to break your own rules.

excerpt

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Anita,” Chelsea says, looking like the Cheshire Cat.

Her low, satin-like voice is doing all kinds of things to my cock. I barely respond with, “Anita who?”Maybe I can cool down with a sip of water. My hand finds one of the bottled waters I’d pulled out from the refrigerator earlier.

“Anita dick inside me!” she says, cracking up.

Water comes flying from between my lips. Chelsea is beside me, cackling, and I’m choking. Did she just say she needs a dick inside her? I can’t catch my breath. I think about my next move. How much can I say?Fuck it. Might as well be upfront. Once I collect myself and put the bottle down, I catch and hold Chelsea’s gaze. “How about mine?”

“What?” she whispers, leaning away from me in a hurry.

I move closer to her as I’ve longed to do since we sat down. I have to touch her, and I settle on fingering a few of her long curls, twirling them around. I’m trying to collect myself and not come off as a desperate fool. I take in a few deep breaths to help me regain some of my composure. “I know where I’d like this to end, Chelsea.”

Her tongue slips through her lips and moistens them. I move closer to her, breathing her in, and I do believe I could actually come right now. Mutual desire saturates the air as our eyes connect and our bodies lean in at the same time. Unable to decide where to touch again, my hands drop to her thighs, where her skirt is hiked up.

Counting helps to calm me down. “I’ve been dying to see what’s under this thing since I saw you at the garage.” My hand slides up from her bare flesh to the edge of her skirt.

She hesitates, even though her mouth opens.

“Come on; you can tell me,” I prompt.

“I’ve wanted to see more of this for the last two weeks.” Her hand travels up my arm then grips it.

That’s all I needed to hear. I drag her over my lap so she’s straddling me. Her skirt rides up even more. All of her is exposed: gorgeous thighs and her more-than-handfuls ass cheeks. My hands get greedy, palming the body part—one of many—that has driven me wild since seeing her in those denim cut-offs. My finger trails down the thin strip of material that’s between her ass.

“Mmm,” she hums.

“Chels, you have to tell me to stop.” I give her an out, just in case she needs one. But she rubs her barely-covered pussy on me, and I take that as her answer.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

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meet the author

allyn lesley writes real stories about real people.

As a teen, allyn lost herself in the pages of some of Romance’s heavyweights, trusting that a happy ever after was just around the corner. In allyn’s own writing journey, as in life, she’s learned that people don’t always experience recovery and restoration after a fall. Her stories speak to the gritty side of life where the right choice isn’t always easily identified and happiness not quickly gained.

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Review

I’m not usually a fan of alpha male love interests. Usually I find that I don’t feel I know enough about the character to understand *why* he is the way that he is, which is annoying.

Happily that is NOT the case with Allyn Lesley’s Falling. We get enough of Dylan’s background to discern what makes him–initially–such a jerk. And then as we read, we learn he isn’t really the jerk we thought he was. As we peel away the layers, he begins to change, grow and mature as a man and it’s all because of love. Because of their age difference (Dylan is twenty-four, Chelsea is just turning eighteen) they want different things. They keep being thrown together because of their families and various circumstances, which Dylan initially hates. But it soon becomes obvious that Chelsea is the girl who chips away at the wall Dylan has built around himself (yes, that Alpha Male Wall). 🙂

One of the things I enjoyed about this story was that I found the characters to be very believable. They make mistakes, they screw up, they grow. This made me feel, as a reader, like I was always in their corner because I could empathise with them. And that is something I always appreciate.
Both characters have an interesting arc and the supporting characters (all the family members and mutual friends) add another rich layer to this story. I have the feeling there will be more to Dylan and Chelsea’s story.

A solid love story! My rating? 4 stars! A Recommended Read.

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Required Reading: Yes, you need to read these books.

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screen-shot-2016-09-25-at-19-36-11Philadelphia Fire: a novel by John Edgar Wideman

Anyone who grew up in Philadelphia in the 1970s and 1980s remembers the MOVE group. John Edgar Wideman’s  novel, Philadelphia Fire, was inspired by the 1985 police bombing of the MOVE house in West Philadelphia that killed eleven people and razed an entire neighbourhood, destroying sixty houses. What surprises me is that no one outside of the Philadelphia area seems to even know about this, but it’s left an indelible mark on the city.

So what is Philadelphia Fire about? From the blurb: Cudjoe, a writer and exile who returns to his old neighborhood after spending a decade fleeing from his past, and his search for the lone survivor of the fire — a young boy who was seen running from the flames.

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In case you’re wondering who is the little boy running from the flames, the character is based on Birdie Africa, who died in 2013. He was the lone child survivor of the bombing and spent years trying to build a new life for himself. He was only 41 when he died.

screen-shot-2016-09-25-at-19-56-26Another book that is definitely required reading is Kindred by Octave E. Butler. This is a brilliant take on time travel/speculative fiction with Dana, a modern-day black woman, finding herself time and time again being snatched from her home in California and transported back to the antebellum South to save the life of a white plantation owner’s son. Each time, she is stuck there longer and longer and more dangerous and Dana finds herself drawn to the slave quarters and wondering if she will ever be able to return to the present, or if her life will end before it’s even properly begun.

I love Octavia Butler’s novels. She was an amazing writer and her stories speak to the human experience, of the ways humans work against each other, and are as relevant today as when she first wrote them.

screen-shot-2016-09-25-at-20-58-45Kim McLarin‘s Meeting of the Waters is set in the tense months following the 1992 LA riots. What happens when Porter Stockman, a white journalist covering the trials of police officers who beat Rodney King, finds himself in danger in the midst of the riots and black journalist Lenora Page saves his life. Afterwards, he tries to find her, but she’s disappeared into thin air. Back in Philadelphia, he ends up finding Lenora right under his nose in the offices of the newspaper where he works. What starts as a wary friendship becomes a turbulent relationship, with Lenora constantly second-guessing Porter and Porter not understanding Lenora’s uncertainty and resenting that she is not always open with him or others about their relationship and that he is always on the defensive.

Just as relevant today as it was when it was first published in 2001.

Haven’t read any of these? Do yourself a favour and one-click ASAP.

 

Blog Tour: Southern Nights & Secrets by Robin Covington

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Southern Nights and Secrets

by Robin Covington
The Boys Are Back in Town #4
Publication Date: September 19, 2016
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Indulgence, Contemporary, Romance

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BUY:

Synopsis: Being a doctor is everything to me, but I’m not going to let bureaucrats tell me how to practice medicine. It’s about saving lives no matter what, screw them and their paperwork.

When the one woman I could never forget, Ginger Crawford, shows up as my boss all bets are off. The heat between us is tough to ignore but I have to if I want a future at this hospital. It isn’t easy. Every time we argue, I want her even more.

But I’ve got secrets she can never know, and she’s always going to be way too good for me. So it’s best if she hates me…at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

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CATCH UP WITH THE OTHER BOYS IN THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN SERIES BY USA TODAY BESTSELLER ROBIN COVINGTON!

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BUY:

Synopsis: One night of passion…

Detective Jackson Cantrell never imagined that one night with an irresistible stranger would turn his life upside down. He’s spent years living in the shadows, but Dr. Michaela Roarke awakened a passion inside him he’d buried years ago.He never expected the woman would turn out to be the governor’s daughter…and his next assignment. The governor blackmails Jackson to secretly watch over Michaela and protect her from a stalker, or kiss his dream job at the FBI good-bye. Swearing to keep things strictly professional, Jackson moves in with Michaela. Too bad his heart can’t keep the same promise.

But when the stalker’s attacks quickly escalate beyond mere photographs to bodily harm, Jackson must race to save Michaela’s life. And he’ll have to figure out how to keep her once she discovers his lie.

Book #1 in The Boys are Back in Town Series…
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BUY:

Synopsis: Some women are bad. Some women are a bad idea. The best ones are both…

As a Black Ops assassin, “Lucky” Landon has had more than his fair share of close calls. Now he’s turned in his sniper rifle for the simple life of his small hometown. So the last thing he ever expected was to end up at gunpoint. Or that the woman holding the gun would be his best friend’s little sister and Lucky’s on-again/off-again lover.

Taylor Elliott is Trouble, and she likes it that way. And seeing Lucky again? Well, he’s been her dirty little secret for the past few years and everyone knows that secrets in a small town are almost impossible to keep. But Taylor has bigger problems on her plate. Like the local mob boss who wants her dead.

And right now the only thing standing between Trouble and disaster is a hottie named Lucky…

Book #2 in The Boys are Back in Town Series…
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BUY:

Synopsis: Privileged and ambitious attorney Teague Elliott is on the fast-track to getting everything he wants. All he has to do is stay on the straight and narrow and a high-profile political career is his for the taking. Until he wakes up naked with a Vegas showgirl…

Risa Clay has worked hard to put her showgirl past behind her and start fresh. But she owes ten grand to the wrong people, and to pay off her debt, she agrees to betray a stranger. . .but she ends up with a husband and guilty conscience.

Savvy and determined, she double-crosses the mob, goes on the run, and turns up on Teague’s doorstep armed with a dangerous secret, a marriage license, and the power to ruin his well-planed future. She thought using Teague again would be easy, but the passion that exploded between them in Vegas didn’t stay in Sin City and betrayal is the last thing on her mind.

Now Teague has to choose between the future he’s planned for all his life, or the one with Risa that he can’t turn away from.

Book #3 in The Boys are Back in Town Series…
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ABOUT ROBIN COVINGTON

Robin Covington

A USAToday bestseller, Robin Covington loves to explore the theme of fooling around and falling in love in her books. Her stories burn up the sheets. . .one page at a time. When she’s not writing she’s collecting tasty man candy, indulging in a little comic book geek love, hoarding red nail polish and stalking Chris Evans.

A 2016 RITA® Award nominee, Robin’s books have won the Golden Leaf Award and finaled in the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, the Book Seller’s Best and the National Reader’s Choice Awards.

She lives in Maryland with her handsome husband, her two brilliant children (they get it from her, of course!), and her beloved furbabies, Dutch and Dixie Joan Wilder (Yes – THE Joan Wilder).

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Profile

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Excerpt Reveal: Watching the Sky by J.B. Hartnett

 

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Excerpt

I never really appreciated the businesses open 24/7 until I stopped going out when the sun was up. But I’d come to find this necessity such a relief, I was close to sending the good people at Thrifty Corporate offices a thank you note. I could leave my house at midnight and buy a big-ass bottle of quality gin, a pint of the best mint chocolate chip ice cream in the world, and a jumbo-sized bottle of weed killer.

The guy at the cash register made a point of eyeing my products. So much so, for a split second, I wondered if I’d forgotten to wear pants. He had an obnoxious, patronizing smirk plastered to his face when he asked, “Big night planned?”

His customer service skills left a lot to be desired, and I was in no mood to take shit from anyone. So, I gave it to him honestly.

“Oh yeah,” I enthused, trying to remember if I’d brushed my teeth that day. “First,” I said holding up a single finger, “I’m gonna get drunk. Second,” I continued with two fingers and noticed he was staring at my chest, “I’m gonna murder the plant my husband gave to me.” That’s about the time his eyes met mine again. “And for my big finale,” I patted the tub of ice-cream lovingly, “I’m gonna eat my feelings.”

He had no response, whatsoever, to my smartass comments or manner, so I took my items, leaned in on my elbows, and gave him some solid, retail advice. “You know, it’s just a normal Saturday night for any single girl. Put these three items on a primary end-cap and sales will soar.”

Again, he didn’t find me funny.

I thought I was fucking hilarious.

A few hours later, I was on my fourth homemade Grey Goose cocktail. This consisted of gin and Diet Coke, because these were the things I had in the house. Not to mention the jar of maraschino cherries, which made for a lovely garnish.

Sometime after my third drink, I’d gotten into Nick’s CDs. With cocktail number four in hand, I stood in my front yard, Don’t Stop Believing blaring through the open windows—on repeat—and looked at the mess I’d made. My previous plan for the night was to simply shut my broken heart up by drowning it in liquor, then drowning that plant with poison. I thought…if I killed the plant, I could somehow move on from the pain. But the closer I got to home, my plan morphed into something a little more…sinister. The gin helped, of course, but I had two years of livid, confused emotions I’d denied for far too long, chomping at the bit for release.

I walked into the shed and saw the area dedicated to the care of that plumeria. I filled the wheelbarrow with big sheers and a shovel. My intention to release the plant from the earth was foiled by rock-hard soil which required me to soften it up with a little water. While a shallow pond formed around my flip-flop clad feet, I gave the offensive blooms their last trim and final rites.

“Forever’s a long time, isn’t it, little flowers? I bet you thought that nice man would take care of you until the end of time?” Then I opened the bottle of weed killer and poured it on top of the neat pile of blooms. “Wrong, wrong, wrong!” I said, shaking my head as I bathed them in poison.

I don’t know which one of my concerned neighbors called the cops. But if it had been me, and I knew what happened to that poor woman in the blue house, even if it had been two whole years, I would have minded my own fucking business and hoped she only had one night of power ballads in her

But sadly, no such luck. The flash of blue and red lights in my periphery reminded me what I hated about my neighborhood: around here, no one wanted to get involved in anyone else’s business. No one warned you to move your car before you got that ticket on street sweeping day. Everyone seemed to be suspicious of everyone else. When I was growing up, my brother and I spent summers and some holidays at our aunt and uncle’s place outside of Guerneville. Even now, with Johnny-Law approaching, I recalled how my uncle left in the middle of dinner one night because the neighbor’s truck needed to be pulled from a ditch. He didn’t ask the guy if he’d called Triple A. He said, “Be right there, buddy.” That’s the kind of place I wanted to live. Somewhere with kind, considerate neighbors.

I wouldn’t even think of asking my neighbors for a cup of sugar. Not that they’d answer the door. But this was all good, because these seemingly-small things were the catalyst to change. It was that very moment when I realized I needed to move. Not just from the house, but from Southern California. As soon as the thought drifted into my head, I realized how relieved it would make my parents. They’d watched me go through the motions, but I couldn’t move on if I stayed here. Everywhere I went, everything I did, had some kind of connection to Nick and my life with him.

Finally, I was met with the phrase, “Ma’am, we’ve had some calls from your neighbors…”

After that, I tuned out and answered “yes” or “no” to their questions when it was warranted. As intoxicated as I was, I managed to rein in my gin-surliness in order to avoid incarceration. But there was a small crowd gathered on my sidewalk. These same people had likely watched from afar while my life fell apart and did not one thing to offer help.
When I looked at the older couple that lived next door, I moved closer, close enough they’d be able to hear me and anyone else nearby. I used to drop a plate of cookies on their doorstep every Christmas, but not once had they thanked me.

“You’ve seen the entire show, haven’t you?” I asked quietly, not wanting the officer to hear. But the old man just kept hold of his wife and stared beyond me. But I knew he was the “man,” the “husband,” the half-of-a-whole I’d never have again. “You watched from your porch while a black limousine parked in front of my house. You would’ve seen me collapse, wracked with so much pain, my dad and brother had to carry me to the car. I came home to an empty house, stopped answering the door, and never, not once, did you come to offer a kind word. You saw us together,” I whispered. “We should’ve been you…and lucky, you’ve had a lifetime together. Think about that the next time you rob a woman of her grief.”

“Ma’am,” the officer started behind me.

“Shame on you,” I said and walked away.

I went back to my house, ignoring the officer who followed, and walked inside. I turned off the stereo and closed the windows. Then I returned to the officer waiting on my front porch. “I just need to shut the water off, and I’m all done for the night.”

He didn’t seem at all satisfied with my cooperation. “Is there someone we can call for you?” He made a point of looking at my hand. “Your husband?”

Two years… two, and I still hadn’t taken off my wedding rings.

“I’ve gone back to my maiden name, Officer.” I hoped that would be explanation enough.

He looked to his partner and nodded. Whatever that was meant to convey, I had no idea.

But he handed me a business card. “If you need me, Miz…”

“Truscott. Rylie, Truscott.”

He closed the distance between us and warily glanced behind him. “If you need me,” he said quietly, “you give me a call. I’m only a few blocks away.”

“I assure you, I won’t have any reason to call.”

Then he stepped a little closer. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

His words weren’t meant to insult me, in fact, they communicated genuine concern he seemed to feel for a fellow human, and for that, gratitude welled up in me and formed in my eyes.

“I won’t do anything stupid. I promise,” I said and looked at the house, “I’m done here.”
And I meant every word.

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New from J.B. Hartnett!

Watching the Sky Cry is an beautifully written,
emotional story releasing September 24th!

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/2bCJnat

 

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Blurb

Ten years is a long time when you’re thirty-two. We’d seen our share of ups and downs, but I could honestly say, they were mostly up. That’s the thing about happiness though. It lulls you into a false sense of security.

Neither one of us ever thought we’d ever be touched by crippling loss or immeasurable grief. But not all stories have a happy ending, and I knew, better than anyone, that sometimes, one of you won’t make it till the end. One of you has to go first. And one of you will be left behind to pick up the pieces.

That one is me.

But starting over isn’t what I thought it would be. I need escape from the memories that plague me, remind me. So I went back to where it all began. To the town where I was born. To the place whose beauty could pierce my pain. Where I experienced my first kiss, where I fell in love, where a man was my earth. And I…

I was his sky.

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About the Author

hartnett

Julie is a southern California native, a fan of a really good story (preferably a romance with a happily ever after), really good pie (preferably pumpkin)and copious amounts of coffee (preferably Folgers).

She has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she might be a singer/songwriter. The ‘writer’ part is that one that stuck.

Julie is obsessed with Pi…the equation and the food. She’s allergic to cats, cantaloupe and hates mushrooms. So if you ever want to give her a gift, those are out for sure.

She currently lives with her romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.

Website | Facebook Facebook Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

Getting to know…Cat Hogan

We’re back with another instalment of Getting to Know… Today, we have Irish author Cat Hogan with us. Her novel They All Fall Down came out in July, and I’ve just added it to my TBR/1Click list. If you like novels about love and obsession, then you should do the same. Cat lives in County Wexford in Ireland with her partner Dave and her two sons Joey and Arthur, loves storytelling, and has a cat with the cool name of Jim Hawkins (I’m guessing this cat is a bit of an adventurer like his namesake in Treasure Island). So pour yourself a cup or glass of your favourite beverage, make yourself comfortable and let’s get to know Cat Hogan! 

13124599_10153655434767549_3085583176196253113_nCat, I have to tell you that I love the cover of They All Fall Down. It’s on my TBR list and I’ll probably dive into it this weekend. It sounds like my cuppa tea. So tell me, which titles are on your must-read list this year?

The Glorious Heresies by Lisa McInerney. I can’t wait to get my hands on this. Lying in Wait by Liz Nugent. This was one of the most anticipated releases in Ireland this year. Published by Penguin in July, it didn’t disappoint. It was number one best seller for quite some time. The book certainly lived up to the promo and the hype. Liz is an exquisite writer.

There are so many amazing titles out there.

Now I am intrigued! I will have to add these titles to my TBR list as well. They All Fall Down is out and it’s getting great reviews.  Are you taking a writing vacation to recharge your creative batteries, or have you already begun working on a new book? 

At the moment, I am working on two!

Two? I’m impressed! I have a hard time concentrating on writing one book. Can you give us a sneak peek? 🙂

One of the two is a standalone and the other is a sequel (of sorts) to They All Fall Down. The plot is evolving as I go on these two- particularly the follow up, but what I can tell you is I am wandering around souks and alleyways in Marrakesh, drinking mint tea and getting up to no good.

The standalone, at the moment, revolves around a not so tough guy who’s past is about to catch up with him in a very strange sequence of events.

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Cat Hogan

Ooh! Now you’ve got me hooked. I’ll probably start bugging you about your writing progress so I know when they’ll be launching! Now, I think every writer has a favourite place to write. Where is yours? Do you write at home or do you go to a local café or someplace like that?

My current hide away for writing is in my local library. I don’t have the luxury of an office space and trying to write at the kitchen table with my two boys running around, is not always conducive to creativity. I usually end up running around with them- an avoidance technique. The library in my home county of Wexford is a beautiful space and the staff are all fantastic. It’s a community.

So what’s your typical writing day like?

A routine for me is hard to achieve. My older boy, Joey (11), returned to school last week and Baby Arthur(3), has just started in Montessori. This frees me up and I go straight to the library until about 2pm. After that, I come home and do the Mammy thing for the afternoon. I pick up the writing again when my boys are asleep. It doesn’t always pan out like this but I tend not to stress over it either.

I know what you mean. I’ve been trying to fit my writing time around my work schedule and it’s not always easy. If I’m having a hard time writing, I end up working on an inspiration board to help me visualise the characters and settings. What about you? Do you look for images of actors or actresses as inspiration for your lead characters, or do you find inspiration elsewhere?

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Aidan Gillen

When I wrote They All Fall Down, I pictured Aidan Gillen’s face for Scott. It’s funny, the initial inspiration for me comes from location and sometimes a lyric in a song but when you hit a certain point in the story, the characters take over and tell the story for you.

I think a lot of people have this idea that being a writing is easy, and we both know it’s not. What do you think is the most difficult part of being a writer? How do you deal with it?

The most difficult part for me is trying to establish a writing routine around my boys and home life. The process happened very quickly for me. I finished the first draft in June 2015 and by November,I had a two book publishing deal. They All Fall Down was released in July- meaning lots of promo and events. Book 2 is due back with the publishers this month!! It’s a real juggling act.

What is your favorite part of being a writer? 

The freedom. The idea that you can be anything or go anywhere in the world while sitting at your desk. I always loved reading and writing, from the time I was a small child, but the reality was, I never really knew what I wanted to do with my life. Two degrees and my own business later, the penny finally dropped.

Last question: what was the best piece of writing advice you ever received?

Just keep writing. Write the book you want to write, and believe in yourself.

Thanks so much to Cat Hogan for joining us today! Make sure you add They All Fall Down to your TBR or 1click it today. Don’t forget to connect with Cat on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads

Blog Tour: Lies You Tell by LaQuette

Lies You Tell

by

LaQuette 

Blurb:

A mob boss finding his dead lover alive six years after her death, shocking.  Learning they’ve got a five-year-old son…deadly.

Six years ago Sanai Ward fled her life in Florida when her lover’s infidelity nearly brings her life to a fiery end.  Scared and devastated, Sanai starts over from nothing, determined to create a safe and happy life for the child she discovers she’s carrying.

Single parenthood isn’t easy. But the joy of watching her beloved Nazario thrive is more than enough motivation to ignore the ache in her heart for the man that shattered her soul.
Dante De Luca is a passionate man who’s had his life stolen from him.  Six years ago he was in love and happy, until his woman was killed in a fire. Sanai was gone.  There was nothing left in the ashes but the locket he’d placed around her neck.  Too angry to deal with his loss, Dante seeks to make the rest of the world pay for his broken heart by forming an unholy covenant with an unspeakable ally.  He knows he’ll live to regret it, but signing away your humanity to the devil seems meaningless when your soul is already gone.
When an accident involving a family member draws Dante to New York, and forces an unexpected meeting between he and Sanai, Dante has to decide what’s more important.  His rage and revenge, or the safety of the woman he once loved and the health of their son?
Just when Sanai’s deception is beginning to sting less, Dante is faced with the fallout of his own lies.  Will she forgive him?  Will they survive them, or will their lives become tragic casualties of the dangerous lies he told?

Excerpt:

She watched her son glance back and forth between the two men now sitting on either side of him. He was biting on his fingernails, a nervous habit he had developed when he began school. Sanai’s first instinct was to cross the room as quickly as she could and snatch her baby up.

 Yeah, it was just hair, and it was already falling out from the chemotherapy, but her protective instincts weren’t exactly running off of logic.
This plan Dante had of cutting it all off sounded rational, but being rational wasn’t really high on her list of priorities. That was her baby, and if he wasn’t on board with the idea, she was shutting this entire plan down.
She moved to take a step in their direction, but Dante’s smile halted her. He wasn’t looking in her direction—probably had no idea she was watching him so intently. But the easy way he smiled at her son, the way Nazario mirrored Dante’s same crooked smile that spread slowly across his little mouth and lit up his entire face—the power of it held her in place.
Tony opened his bag. He pulled out a drape and shook out its folds. She saw Nazario stare at the drape with a bit of trepidation shaking his small frame. Tony lifted it in the air and placed it carefully around Dante’s neck.
Her eyes met Dante’s, silently asking for answers. Before she could form the words of her question, Tony turned on his clippers and took a quick pass up the side of Dante’s head. When he pulled the clippers back, she saw scalp, or more aptly described, scalp covered by a short fuzz.
She glanced back at her son. He  had a front-row seat of Dante getting his hair shaved off. Nazario stared at the man, his fear morphing into curiosity. Without so much as a word this man took the fear out of something for her child, making it something fun.
In a few minutes, those beautiful dark curls that were Dante’s signature were gone. When Tony was done with Dante, he cleaned him up, shook out the drape, and motioned for Naz to take Dante’s place.
The boy hesitated for just a minute and then settled into his chair. Tony secured the drape and turned the clippers on. Nazario jumped a little at the sound, but Dante calmed him down by leaning in front of him and giving him a thumbs-up. While Dante kept him distracted, Tony shaved the boy’s hair down to his scalp, and with what appeared to be practiced ease, he lined the boy’s edges up, making the haircut look less like they were attempting to cover up illness and more like a trendy haircut a young boy would wear.
Tony dusted off the excess hair from Naz and pulled off the drape. When those dark brown eyes she loved so much looked up with both excitement and approval, she pulled on a trembling smile. She walked up to him, running a gentle hand over his head.
“You look real good, Naz. Mr. Tony did a good job.” Her voice felt thick and heavy as she spoke. The little boy fell into her arms. She hugged him as tight as she could and lifted watery eyes to Dante and Tony. Too full to speak over the growing ball of emotion in her chest, she simply mouthed a silent thank you to them.
They each nodded, but it was the red rim around Dante’s eyes that pulled her attention. In their depths she found understanding. Her brain questioned briefly how Dante could know just how relieved she was to see a happy smile on her boy’s face.
It almost didn’t compute that someone else could fathom how much it would mean to her that her son looked less like a sick cancer patient and more like an average five-year-old. But when Dante’s watery gaze fastened on to hers, she realized something crucial. Dante was Nazario’s father. Not just in blood, but in every way possible.
Orchestrating this haircut to preempt the trauma of hair loss was something only a parent would recognize as necessary. Only a father would sacrifice his own healthy mane to make his son feel less afraid, less abnormal.
Sanai opened her free arm to Dante, inviting him into the embrace she and their son shared. He hesitated briefly, and she hated that he thought he had to. Truth was, there was no one else she could blame for that.
She’d done this. She kept her arm open, and he finally leaned in. He circled
them both with strong arms, and she lightly scraped her fingers against his
near-smooth scalp.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. He didn’t speak. If he was experiencing the same emotional overload, she understood why. He simply tightened his hold and squeezed Sanai and Nazario closer to him.
Her annoying mind kept trying to bully its way into the moment, but she refused to allow it. She wasn’t going to worry about how right it felt to be in Dante’s arms, how protected she felt with his arms surrounding them. She wasn’t going to listen to the fear screaming in the back of her mind that Dante was getting too close too soon. She simply burrowed into his embrace and let her battle shield fall.

 
 
 

Author Bio:

LaQuette is an erotic, multicultural romance author of M/F and
M/M love stories.  Her writing style brings intellect to the drama.
She often crafts emotionally epic, fantastical tales that are deeply pigmented by reality’s paintbrush. Her novels are filled with a unique mixture of savvy, sarcastic, brazen, and unapologetically sexy characters who are confident in their right to appear on the page.
This bestselling Erotic Romance Author is the 2016 Author of the
Year Golden Apple Award Winner, 2015 Swirl Awards Bronze Winner in Romantic Suspense, and 2015 Georgia Romance Writers Maggie Award Finalist in Erotic Romance. LaQuette—a native of Brooklyn, New York—spends her time catering to her three distinct personalities: Wife, Mother, and Educator.
Writing—her escape from everyday madness—has always been a friend and source of comfort. At the age of sixteen she read her first romance novel and realized the genre was missing something: people that looked and lived like her.  As a result, her characters and settings are always designed to provide positive representations of people of color and various marginalized communities.
She loves hearing from readers and discussing the crazy characters that are running
around in her head causing so much trouble.  Contact her on FacebookTwitter, her website, NovelsbyLaQuette.com, Amazon, her Facebook group, LaQuette’s Lounge, and via email at LaQuette@NovelsbyLaQuette.com.
 
 

Lies You Tell

Book Trailer

by

LaQuette

Blog Tour: Pure Fantasy by M. Eror

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(¯`v´¯) Blog Tour

`*.¸.*´ M.Eror

¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) Pure Fantasy

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•.#SASSAuthor

#kindleunlimited

 

Lana is convinced that she lives in perfect harmony with her own carefully devised plan. And everything in her life seems to go as she intends it. A new city. A new job. New acquaintances. And most importantly: life without a man!

One autumn afternoon a dark-haired man enters her small shop. His arrogant demeanor and provoking character are more than irritating. She is perfectly aware that her reactions to Mr. Arrogant undermine her most important rule. Never mind! She’ll never see him again.

Will he disrupt her plan?

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Excerpt

The shop door opens and I snap out of my thoughts. A dark-haired man comes in. His knee-length winter coat emphasizes his muscular figure, and his attitude and appearance suddenly dominate the entire space. Our eyes meet. He’s looking at me intensely, penetratingly, and for far too long.

I manage to regain my senses and greet him with a cut-and-dried salesperson’s greeting: “Hello. How may I help you?” He nods an acknowledgement, and only then looks away, proceeding in huge steps towards the shelves of men’s shoes, where he reaches out his hand. He takes a brown, high-top shoe which balances perfectly between the elegant, and casual style. It’s one of the latest models, which arrived in the shop several days ago, and my personal favourite.

Hmm… A nice choice.

I shake my head, feeling awkward as I realise that I’m following his every move. Moreover, I approve of his selection. I keep my hands busy by pointlessly replacing trinkets on my counter, and then smoothing out an already perfectly stacked heap of business cards.

“Where can I find this same model, only in black?” He asks me in a deep voice, without a trace of kindness. His indescribably masculine voice causes an unpleasantly-pleasant shudder in the lower part of my back. I raise my head and my eyes meet his. His dark irises rivet mine. We’re staring at each other, again for too long. I feel my dormant insides waking, reacting to him. My breathing is shallow, my heart beating fast.

The curiosity in his eyes is replaced by a raw male arrogance which says unequivocally: Another notch on the list of conquests! I detest male arrogance. It takes me a few moments to regain my composure, then I blink in confusion.

“So? Cat got your tongue?” He breaks the silence as he goes on watching me, arrogant and smug.

“Excuse me?”

“The shoe?” He waves the shoe right in front of my nose, reminding me of the question he asked a little while ago.

I take a deep breath, and purse my lips angrily at his impertinent act, before concentrating and answering coldly. “Over there, the same model is on display in black.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if that were the case.” He goes on in his impertinent, arrogant style.

I don’t understand his behaviour, but I have no wish to argue. I stop in front of the shelf and look over the models. I frown because I do not succeed in finding what I’m looking for. I work alone, and I don’t understand what could have happened to the shoe. I’m certain that I didn’t move it, and I know for sure that it was there. I turn around the shop confusedly. And lo and behold! The shoe that Mr. Arrogant’s looking for sits among the women’s discounted sandals. I am not a frowner by nature, so I smile and bring him what he’s asked for, forgetting his ungallant behaviour.

I give him the shoe and raise my eyes. My smile freezes, I stop breathing, and my heart dances again to a quick rhythm when I meet his dark eyes. There’s no arrogance, he just examines me calmly. Blood is rushing through my veins, I feel like I’m burning, and all my nerve endings become terribly aware of his presence. He looks perfectly calm and controlled as he stares at me insistently, and without blinking. Then he looks down, lazily.

“That’s it. I mean, a suitable model. And colour. But not a suitable size.” He says, and the haughty smile returns to the corners of his lips.

Fed up with his manners, I snort. He laughs loudly, obviously amused by my reaction. Embarrassment overwhelms me, and I feel my cheeks burning. “So, what size do you need?” I ask curtly.

“Well, I need a 44.” He returns, imitating me. He smiles broadly. It seems that he is amusing himself at my expense. Nervously, I march to the back of the shop and find the required size.

“Here you are.” I say officially and hand him the right shoe.

He covers my fingers with his while taking the shoe from my hand. My skin burns. Strange, powerful vibrations shake my entire body. This accidental touch makes my heart beat madly, and my lungs wail for air. I take a deep breath, raise my eyes but remain breathless. He’s looking at me seductively. My reaction to him has not escaped his notice. It makes him so happy. That touch was no accident. The jerk! He did it on purpose!

I want to run away, as soon as possible, so I turn on my heel.

“I want to see the label with the product details.” He says.

I look at him over my shoulder, confused, then move to hand him the box, which he could easily have taken himself. I stand beside him patiently and wait as he reads very carefully.

“Is there a problem?” I ask.

“I’m just checking.”

“Checking what?”

“Whether they were made in China.” He says coldly, and then raises his eyes to mine.

Made in China? He thinks I sell fakes? What an asshole!

“We sell only Italian stuff.” I say sharply.

He smiles, his eyes fixed. “Oh, look at those claws. I hope you’re well paid.” He speaks in a voice which shows clearly that he doesn’t believe what I say.

He’s provoking me, goading me with his smile, his look, and with the way he addresses me. I count to ten, then frown, turning the box upside-down to show him the embossed label: Fatte in Italia.

“Made in Italy’s written on the box and inside the shoe as well.” I speak briskly.

He bends his head lightly, furrows his eyebrows and studies the inscription carefully, examining the letters devotedly and seriously. I lose patience because this seems to be going on for an age.

For God’s sake, it’s as if he were decoding hieroglyphics!

He shrugs, looks at me naively, and says more innocently: “I had to check, since I don’t speak Italian.”

He doesn’t… he doesn’t speak Italian? What a jerk!

 

Amazon US https://amzn.com/B01CYV21LS

Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01CYV21LS

 

Author Bio

* Pure Fantasy is my debut novel and it is dedicated to the victims of domestic violence; but I will quote one of my reviewers: “It addresses an issue faced by many women throughout the world, and does so in a positive way.”

** I celebrate friendship and crazy families, caring men, love and romance with a little bit of erotic scenes just to spice it all up.

There’s no sex scene in every chapter.

***So, if you like sweet romance novels I could be a writer for you 🙂

Self-published since August 2015.

I write under the pen name M.Eror (and no, there is no spelling error in my name).

 

Author Links

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/merorbooks/?fref=ts

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/M.-Eror/e/B0142C8FYO/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14222627.M_Eror

 

Hosted by SASS Promotions

https://www.facebook.com/SassifyYourself/

 

Spotlight: Shyla Colt

 

Coming soon from Shyla Colt

PRETTY HURTS

Coming 23 September

Pre-Order your copy now
http://smarturl.it/PrettyHurtsColt

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Blurb

Efia Bello knows firsthand how much Pretty Hurts. As a make-up artist and stylist, she’s seen the cruelty and unrealistic expectations of perfection required in the industry. When her hair begins to fall out and she discovers she has Alopecia Areata she’s forced to dig deep and find the beauty in herself. The last thing she expects to find during her struggle is love, but barber, Edgar Gilborn is a temptation she may not be able to resist.
When Edgar Gilborn agrees to open his Barbershop early to accommodate a woman with a hair crisis, the last thing he expects to walk in the door is a curvaceous dime piece who threatens to break his one-year dating drought. Healing from a broken engagement he’s focused on his business and family. Now he has his eyes set on a different prize.
Can he show her hair doesn’t matter, and the chemistry between them is worth exploring?

 

Watch the trailer!

About the Author

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Shyla Colt is the sassy international bestseller of the popular series Kings of Chaos and Dueling Devils M.C. This genre-hoppers stories feature three of her favorite things: strong females, pop culture, and alternate routes to happy ever after. Listening to her Romani soul, she pens from the heart, allowing the dynamic characters, eccentric interests, and travels as a former flight attendant to take her down untraveled roads.
Born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, this mid-west girl is proud of her roots. She used her hometown and the surrounding areas as a backdrop for a number of books. So, if you’re a Buckeye, keep an eye out for familiar places.

As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there’s never a dull moment in her household.
She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company.

Connect with Shyla Colt online

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