Thursday, February 28, 2019

Enticing Journey Promotions Presents a Release Blitz for Drop a Gear and Disappear (Kings of Vengeance MC #1) by Winter Travers



Title: Drop a Gear and Disappear 
Series: Kings of Vengeance MC #1
Author: Winter Travers
Genre: MC Romance (told in 1st person)
Release Date: February 28, 2019

Blurb: 

They tried to make me disappear.

I thought I had found the brotherhood I had been searching for.

A club to fill the nagging void.

Till they took the woman I loved and left me for dead.

They may have her now, but things are about to change.

Vengeance will be mine.

You’ve read the novella in the Wanted Anthology, but Drop a Gear and Disappear is back and better than ever. Prepare to ride with the Kings of Vengeance.

Goodreads: 


Buy Links:

Teaser: 


Author Bio:
Winter Travers is a devoted wife, mother, and aunt turned author who was born and raised in Wisconsin. After a brief stint in South Carolina following her heart to chase the man who is now her hubby, they retreated back up North to the changing seasons, and the place they now call home.

Winter spends her days writing happily ever afters, and her nights zipping around on her forklift at work. She also has an addiction to anything MC related, her dog Thunder, and Mexican food! (Tamales!)

Winter loves to stay connected with her readers. Don’t hesitate to reach out and contact her.

Social Media Links:

Giveaway: $25 Amazon Gift card giveaway:


Cover Reveal for The Hate Vow (Quicksilver #1) by Nicole French



π—§π—›π—˜ π—›π—”π—§π—˜ 𝗩𝗒π—ͺ
Series: The Quicksilver Trilogy
Author: Nicole French
Publisher: Raglan Publishing 
Photographer: Sara Eirew Photographer
Model: Lucas Bloms
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 29, 2019

Blurb:

Eric de Vries.

Looks like millions. 

Worth billions. 

A body like the David with a mind to match.

Unfortunately for this wayward heir, to keep his money, he needs a wife. 

And of all the women in the world, he chooses me. 

Too bad I've hated him for five years, since he took all my tears and tossed me away. The guy slept his way through half of New England and discarded women like hotel toiletries. 

Been there. Done that.

Still...what would you do for twenty million dollars?

Would you wear the dress?

Fake a smile for the man who broke your heart?

Or would you run far, far away?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

I'll see you at the church.

Author’s Note: The Quicksilver Trilogy is a companion series to the Spitfire Trilogy. Both can be read separately, but readers may enjoy meeting Eric and Jane for the first time beginning in Legally Yours, available free at bit.ly/LYwide

Add The Hate Vow to your Goodreads TBR:


Purchase Links:
$0.99 for release day ONLY!

Teasers:



Author Bio:
Nicole French is an East Coast/West Coast hybrid creature, Springsteen fanatic, hopeless romantic, and total bookworm.

When not writing fiction or teaching writing classes, she is hanging out with her family, playing soccer with the rest of the thirty-plus crowd in Seattle, or going on dates with her husband.

In her spare time, she likes to go running with her dog, Greta, or practice the piano, but never seems to do either one of these things as much as she should.

Author Links:


Candi Kane Presents A Cover Reveal for MARRIAGE FOR ONE BY ELLA MAISE


MARRIAGE FOR ONE BY ELLA MAISE
Release Date: May 9, 2019
Cover Designer: Ella Maise
Photographer: Rafa Gallar
Model: Jason Morgan

Add to Goodreads: 


Blurb:

Note to My Past Self: Do NOT get married to the handsome stranger.

*FULL BLURB COMING SOON*


About the Author:
I love nothing more than to escape real life to find those very few magical moments in a book. I love how it has the power of stealing your worries away, putting a smile on your face even when smiling is the last thing on your mind. Crushing on fictional characters is also another bonus. Through my words, if I can manage to make even one person smile, it means I’ve done my job well.

Writing became my world and I can’t imagine myself doing anything other than creating new characters and telling their stories. You know how some things simply make your heart burst with happiness? A really good book, a puppy, hugging someone you’ve been missing like crazy? That’s what writing does to me. And all the hard work, all the sleepless nights, all the anxiety that comes with publishing…everything is worth it at the end.

Connect with Ella: 

InkSlinger Presents The Chaos series is complete! Today we are celebrating the release of LOVE AND CHAOS by S.M. Soto.


The Chaos series is complete! 
Today we are celebrating the release of LOVE AND CHAOS by S.M. Soto. 
It is the third, and final, book in the Chaos romantic suspense series. Buy it now!




Love and Chaos by S.M. Soto

Book Blurb: Hell is rising People are dying…all in the name of love. Tell me, can the Devil and his Angel survive the flames? Deception and Blood were the counterparts, but now, can Sophia and Creed navigate their way through the never ending Chaos? 

Add the book to Goodreads

 

 


Previous Books in the Series

Deception and Chaos (Chaos, #1) -- Only 99 cents!

Blood and Chaos (Chaos, #2) -- Available in Kindle Unlimited!

AUTHOR INFORMATION:
S.M. Soto was born and raised in Northern California where she currently resides with her son. Her love for reading began when she was a young girl, and has only continued to grow into adulthood. S.M. lives for reading books in the romance genre and writing novels with relatable characters. She refers to herself as a bit of a romance junkie. S.M. loves to connect with readers and eat copious of donuts that will surely lead to her demise (carbs are life).

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InkSlinger Presents a Preorder/Teaser Blitz: FROM BREATH AND RUIN by Carrie Ann Ryan



About FROM BREATH AND RUIN (Elements of Five #1) – coming March 19th 

In her YA debut, New York Times bestselling author Carrie Ann Ryan dives into a world with magic and sacrifice with the Elements of Five. 

Five hundred years ago, the Maison Realm was shattered, divided into warring kingdoms of elemental Wielders with fate and truth shadowed and uncertain. Now, factions of both the light and dark venture into the human realm in search of the prophesied Spirit Priestess who is said to Wield the Elements of Five and bring the two fractured kingdoms together. 

Lyric has no idea that there’s a realm outside the human one she lives in. When fate and circumstances are pulled from her hands after an accident, and she finds out that nothing is at it seems. 

There is a war surrounding her and when Lyric realizes that they are searching for her, she must rely on those she once trusted: a boy who isn’t who she thought, and a new realm of warriors who have come to protect her as she trains.

For the darkness is coming, and the Queen of ObscuritΓ© wants to ensure that the King of LumiΓ¨re can’t get his hands on Lyric. And the only way to ensure that is if Lyric herself is no more…no matter the cost to prophecy.

Add FROM BREATH AND RUIN to Goodreads: 


FROM BREATH AND RUIN releases March 19th! Preorder your copy now:

AUDIO (Read by Bailey Carr) 
Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2CQma3Q
Itunes Coming Soon

About the ELEMENTS OF FIVE series:
One thousand years ago, there was one realm of magic. The Maison Realm. It held five kingdoms with five kings or queens, who worked together to keep the Maison people safe and ensure the balance of magic. Over the last five hundred years following the Fall, the great war that began the fracture, many of the kingdoms’ inhabitants intermated, and the magics soon became tied to one another in pairs. Except for the Spirit Wielders. The two remaining kingdoms are now converging, and the veil between the two is fading. Only the human realm lies between the two, and no one there knows there is a war surrounding them.

Over time, certain children of the Fall began to leave their respective kingdoms to venture into the human realm in search of the prophesied Spirit Priestess who is said to wield the Elements of Five and bring the two fractured kingdoms together. For the realms are dying without their sister magics. And soon, there will be no more power left to rule the kingdoms, for there will be no more kingdoms left to rule.

About Carrie Ann Ryan:
Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

YA Newsletter http://bit.ly/2PMDWYx

Excerpt Reveal: Over You by Stevie J. Cole

Check out this excerpt for OVER YOU by Stevie J. Cole! 

Don't forget to add this rockstar romance to your TBR today!


Contemporary Romance
Stand Alone
Cover by: FuriousFotog
`
Blurb:

Spencer Hailstorm.

Leather pants? Check.

Tormented soul? Check.

Rock star extraordinaire? Check.

He’s the guy most women would pay to have break their hearts.

Except me. I already know how hard it is to get over him.

Spencer made me believe in the notion of a soulmate at the age of seventeen. By twenty-three, he made me realize you could only truly hate someone you once loved.

Some people change your world. Some people let the world change them.

Unfortunately, Spencer turned mine upside down. Twice.

Add to your GR:

Excerpt:

Georgia Anne

I hoped that next line of blow made the arrogant, womanizing, all-around-grade-A-asshole keel over.

Go ahead and judge me, but that was exactly what I wished for when mega-watt rock star Jag Steele—who also happened to be my rocker boyfriend’s idol—leaned over to get his next fix.

Maybe hoping for sudden death was harsh, but the past year in Hollywood had made me cruel. Plus, I knew someone at that party had Naloxone on them. . .so the fucker wouldn’t die. It would just ruin his stupid, cockstar party.

At one point in life, I wouldn’t have wished bad things on that conceited manwhore snorting rail after rail next to Spencer. But that version of Georgia Anne was long gone. Just like the guy who once loved her in a way that would have made Shakespeare jealous: unconditionally, undeniably, and without fault. 

You see, that boy who used to wear second-hand clothes and write love notes to me on gum wrappers had been destroyed when he became the lead singer to the multiplatinum rock band, Midnite Kills.

Devoured.

Digested.

And spat out in designer clothing.

The Spencer I fell in love with six years ago wouldn’t have fought with me in the car on the way over, since he wouldn’t have had cocaine hidden in his pocket. But that boy was lost somewhere between playing in bars and playing in arenas. While his eyes may have still been the same turbulent blue that reminded me of an ocean after a storm, the Spencer who loved me more than life itself was MIA, and for what?

A gunmetal Porsche, a slut-red Maserati, and a house in the hills.

To some that may have sounded like the jackpot, but what people on the outside didn’t realize was: Hollywood came with a packaged side of bullshit that was nothing but a glorified death wish.

Sure, Spencer wore those tight, black Versace shirts with collars that dipped low enough to reveal his colorful chest tattoos like a second skin, but fame was a four-letter word, a virus that was slowly killing every part of me, every part of him. Each last piece of us.

“Man, it’s my birthday. Come on. . .” Jag elbowed Spencer in the ribs, and, like a puppet, Spencer leaned over the table. A strand of dish-water blond hair fell from his messy bun when he took a hit.

“Really?” I groaned.

Jag’s gaze landed on me, his pupils blown wide. “It’s my birthday, princess. Give him a break.”

I patted Jag’s hollowed cheek while Spencer sniffed the drug back. “Go fuck yourself.” I pushed off the couch.

“Georgia Anne. Babe!” Spencer staggered to his feet.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

That shouldn’t have been enough to make him sit right back down beside the devil, but it was.

Music thumped through the sound system while I moved through the sea of models and rock stars, the actresses and socialites all in their clicks crowding Jag’s expansive living room. I skirted around the waitresses wearing little black dresses and red stilettos carting trays of drinks and cocaine on their shoulders, with no intention of going to the bathroom. All I needed was point five seconds away from the shitshow that was my life, which was why I headed straight to the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the Beverly Hills mansion.

The lights of Los Angeles glittered below like tiny jewels strewn across sand, and for the first time in my life, I would have given anything to be back in that valley where life was somewhat sane.

Placing my palm and forehead to the cool glass, I wondered how much longer I could hold onto this speeding car before I either had to let go or inevitably wound up in some horrific, fiery crash?

“Champagne?” One of the waitresses halted beside me. The glasses on her tray clinked together.

I could have downed every drink on that silver platter, and it still wouldn’t have been enough alcohol to make that party bearable, but I snagged a flute of champagne anyway. The strand of effervescent bubbles danced along the curved glass. After two sips, I turned around.

Women had congregated around Spencer and Jag, staring, swooning. Touching. And both guys seemed oblivious to it all.

Three selfies in, Spencer’s gaze landed on me, and I quickly looked away, focusing instead on one of the black and white prints of Jag’s naked girlfriend that decorated the walls. I downed my drink, and turned back to gaze out the window.

Seconds later, an arm wrapped around my waist. Warm lips pressed to my neck. “You okay, babe?”

Our gazes locked on our reflection in the window. “I told you I didn’t want to come.”

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in the house.” Another kiss and his hands slid to my hips. “That dress looks good on you.” His warm breathed fanned across my throat.

As mad as I was, as empty as I felt from what we had lost, my body reacted to his touch. Like a woman stranded in the desert, I was thirsty for his affection. For his touch. And I gave in for a moment, tilting my head to the side in the hopes the path of his lips would continue farther.

“It’s just hard.” I swallowed and fought the anxiety winding through my chest. “Smiling when there’s still a gaping wound.”

“I know.” His soft lips pressed below my ear. “We can go if you want.”

God, how I wanted to go, but before I could answer, one of the label’s assistants grabbed Spencer by the elbow. “I need to steal him. Just for a moment.” She grinned at me. Her collagen-plumped injected cheeks inflated like balloons. I just wanted to take something and pop them.

Spencer’s arm untangled from my waist. He took a thoughtless step away before moving back to give me a quick kiss—as if I were an afterthought. The taste of whiskey and mint lingered on my lips. And just like that, we were no longer leaving, and the last bit of hope I’d desperately clung to frayed and snapped like the thread of a well-worn sweater.

Halfway across the room, the assistant grabbed Jag and led him and Spencer to group of giggling, star-struck girls in the corner of the room.

I took a deep breath.

The temptation to take the glass in my hand, smash it on the floor, and cause a scene fit for daytime television was strong. After all, when in Rome. . .

A boney elbow nudged my side. I pushed the emotions down where they belonged. Unnaturally round boobs spilled out of a low-cut, sequin dress. I’d seen Jag’s girlfriend a handful of times, but River and I had never spoken. She flicked her white-blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re Spencer’s chick, right?”

I watched both Jag and Spencer scrawl their signatures over the chest of a busty redhead. “Something like that,” I said, my pulse ticking up by the second.

River’s gaze strayed across the room just as Jag pretended to motorboat the redhead for a picture. Spencer stood beside him, his gaze aimed at the floor.

River sighed. “It’s part of it, you know. Hollywood girlfriend 101: grin and bare it. The tabloids love to make us out to be jealous, raging psychos.” She laughed, then patted my back. “Just know, the first time he cheats, he doesn’t mean it. It all kinda goes to their heads. He’ll get high or drunk or both, and end up backstage with some girl who just wants to suck his dick. One thing leads to another. . . It’s impossible to avoid, really.”

The sad truth was, from what I’d seen, most of these guys were unfaithful. But Spencer was not most of these guys. . .was he? “I’m not worried about the girls,” I said, sounding more certain than I felt. “We’ve been together since we were teenagers.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The smile of pity she gave me caused my stomach to twist. “Maybe the guy he was before wouldn’t have cheated, but he’ll never be that guy again. Trust me. I’m three years in on the fame train. You just have to decide what you can manage.”

The guy he was before ricocheted through my head like a stray bullet. Panic tore at my throat. There was so little left of the guy he was before. Maybe I was more naΓ―ve than I wanted to believe.

Jag strutted past, full of swagger in his leather pants and messy, jet-black hair, with one arm wrapped around a barely legal girl’s waist. His hand crept toward her ass, and he didn’t even glance at River. My gaze swung to the opposite side of the room where Spencer took selfies with a revolving door of girls.

I swallowed. “And what did you decide you could manage?”

“Oh. You know.” River dug a pharmacy bottle from the glitter-covered clutch in her hand. One tap. Two. A few cylindrical, blue pills fell into her palm. She offered me one, but I shook my head. After tossing them into her mouth, she snagged a glass of champagne from a nearby table and downed them.

“It’s give and take.” She shrugged. “He sleeps with a pretty blonde, I get a new Gucci bag.”

Designer handbags in exchange for one-night stands? No way in hell. 

“Think about it,” she said, snapping her clutch closed. “Our guys have thousands—millions—of women throwing themselves at them. How could you possibly expect them not to slip up once and a while? It just comes with the territory, honey.”

That knot in my gut grew tighter and tighter.

“But, the thing to remember, all those other girls,” she said, nodding to the women flocked around Spencer. “They’re insignificant. Besides, gods don’t play by the same rules as mere mortals, babe. And we are dating gods.”

But I had never wanted a god. I only wanted Spencer.

About the Author:
Goodreads Choice Award Finalist in 2016.

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About Stevie:
Stevie J. Cole lives deep in the woods of Alabama with her sexy hubs and two precious daughters. She has an obsession with penguins and English chocolate and is terrified of clowns.

Her solo books offer you all the feels you've come to love in a warm, pretty romance with happily ever afters, while her co-authored books with LP Lovell take you on a thrilling ride of suspense and danger with a nice little kick of love.

InkSlinger Promotions Presents a Cover Reveal for The Weight Of Rain by Mariah Dietz



THE WEIGHT OF RAIN
Author: Mariah Dietz
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 27, 2015

ABOUT THE BOOK:
One night. 
That's all we had.
That's all it took. 

I woke up the next day with his phone number smeared and illegible. 

When I couldn’t find him, 
I tried to forget. 
But in that one night, he’d crawled so far under my skin,
I couldn’t erase him.

Then, he walks back into my life where I least expect him: my job. 

He’s just like I remember, except for one detail.
He goes by a different name.

Goodreads: 


Amazon: 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Mariah Dietz is a transplant from the Pacific North West, now living in the South with her husband and two 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 the majority 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 sons, good coffee, books, travel, and dark chocolate. She also has a deep passion for the stories she writes, and hopes readers enjoy the journeys she takes them on, as much as she loves creating them.



Ardent Prose Promotions Presents a Chapter Reveal for A Perfect Mess by Aria Cole & Mila Crawford



Synopsis:

It seemed like one day she was knobby kneed, missing her two front teeth, and covered in mud, and before I knew it, she’d blossomed into a stunning young woman with her whole life ahead of her.

She went from bratty to determined
From lanky to leggy
From cute to breathtaking

I watched her grow up.
I protected her from advances—even my own.

Crosby Dashen was my best friend’s kid sister and I’d promised Asa I’d never touch her.
But promises can sometimes be overruled by love.
Our chemistry was perfect, but our situation was one hell of a mess.

Goodreads:

My Review:

πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

A perfect Mess is a perfect name for this story because that is what it was but I loved every minute of it and then some. I could not put this book down and it had me reading late into the morning waiting to see what was going to happen and that ending yes oh yes just what I wanted what I was hoping for.

You know dating your best friends sister is a no no but this story is so much more than that. Weston is Asa's best friend and he is in love with his little sister. He is not a man whore or womanizer so I loved that about him. They get along and they have so much in common. Weston is even saving himself for Crosby. She is all he wants and he lets her know it right of the bat when they are old enough.

Crosby has always had a crush on her brothers best friend but she thought nothing could come from it but when she lets Weston know how she feels she knows that the two of them want something together and they can make it work out even if Asa is mad at them and he takes a shot at his best friend for wanting his sister.

This is a must read romance that will have you swooning over this couple. So go on ahead and one click it! 

Buy link:

Chapter 1 

Weston
How did you know when you’d met your match? Easy. She creamed you in air hockey, and you weren’t even mad at her.
​ 
That was the first time I considered her as a separate person, not an extension of Asa or a drag we had to babysit and censor our music and TV from.
​ 
“Save Crosby some pizza for after dance class. Turn the music down, Crosby doesn’t need to learn any swear words. Boys, go get your sister from Callie’s house. I don’t want her walking home in the dark. Wait for her outside the girls’ dressing room at the pool.”
I’d heard those admonishments from Mrs. Dashen half my life. Asa was a brother to me—I’d never had any siblings, and Crosby was part of the package deal, tagging along behind us dragging a stick, stopping to pet every damn mangy dog on the street. She drove me crazy like any little sister should. I guess that was her job, and she was pretty darn good at it.
The girl was a handful—there was nothing easy about her. And since the Dashens were starting up a new business, they weren’t always available. That meant Asa and I had to take Crosby with us. We were given free rein during much of our playtime, the only caveat: bring Crosby too. Which, when you’re a kid, isn’t much fun, bringing a spitfire six-year-old to the baseball dugout with you. It isn’t cool either when she can pitch like a pro, or is the first on your pickup team to actually break a window.

But we got used to it, we adapted, and she followed along. Crosby, unsurprisingly, was also the first of the three of us to break a bone. She was eight and we were twelve, tromping through a creek with a rushing spring thaw below. We passed over a log bridge that someone had pushed across the ravine. The water was cold, we could see our breath in the air, and dusk was fast approaching. The mini nutjob would have made it just fine; her motor skills were intact. Unfortunately, her common sense wasn’t. She did a karate kick in the middle of the log to show us how cool she was. Her curls were bouncing, and she was mean mugging.

“Weston, Asa, watch!”

I laughed at the display until Crosby toppled over the side.

Soaked and cold to the bone, we hauled her back to the neighborhood. She cried, sure, but not so much that we thought she was hurt. It wasn’t until later that night when Mr. Dashen made it home that he took one look at her wrist and declared it broken. Crosby bit her lip and held back the tears. When Mrs. Dashen tried to ground us, Crosby came to our defense.

“Mom, I was the one who refused to hold Asa’s hand!”

We got grounded anyway, and Crosby got a cast and a good story we were secretly jealous of.

But it wasn’t until the air hockey incident eight years later that I realized the pest was no longer a kid and had turned into a real person.

Maybe it helped that Crosby and Asa didn’t look alike. My best friend was dark-haired, while she was a ginger. Asa tanned just like I did—by summer’s end, we’d be golden brown, while Crosby hid under sun hats and was relegated to the shade. She was as pale as milk, with big warm hazel eyes surrounded by a constellation of freckles.

Asa and I had life all figured out, state school, join the reserves, still play football on the weekends. That was our plan, but my passion was poetry. I was as athletic as Asa, yet it wasn’t my jam. Whenever I was alone, I wrote poetry and prose, whereas he played with his Xbox or watched wrestling on television. I was an only child, and my parents wanted me to stay close. Asa and I would go to the same school because we barely functioned without each other. My family had money to spare—we weren’t rich, but we were comfortable. The Dashens took a hit during the economic crisis and almost didn’t recover. But that didn’t stop Asa and Crosby from living their best life. Asa was a legend for his athleticism, and Crosby was a star student with a slight behavior problem, who would eventually be able to get into whatever college she wanted.

But back to air hockey. I swear, I’d never looked at her like that. Sure, we teased and goofed around and drove one another nuts. But I saw her as a sister. I was protective, I was defensive, and I was completely fucked when she grew up and became a woman.

Asa and I were in our first year of college. It was a fundraiser for our old high school, held at the arcade. We hit it up to show off and hopefully embarrass Crosby in the process. Her sophomore class had a dunking booth, and we stepped right up. I threw three balls, and we taunted one another.

“West, it’s true. I’ve got a better arm than you.” She kicked her feet as she sat on the bar and stuck out her tongue. I missed all three chances. I wanted to crush her—but not as much as I wanted her finished and out of that thing. Asa was up next and had an arm like his sister.

“Asa, let’s see if you’re tougher than West!” she called. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her lips ruby-red. She was wearing eye makeup and I noticed; I think it was the first time she ever had. Crosby got slammed—by her brother on his last toss.

She ended up having to borrow clothes from a friend so she could enjoy the festivities after her stint in the cage. Crosby was a good girl, modest and conservative in the way a lot of girls her age weren’t. The kind of trouble she got in was for going too hard, pushing her luck; meanwhile, her morals were straight. Whereas her bestie Callie was the opposite and nothing but a bad influence. The seniors manned the air hockey tables and charged for games and placed bets on wins. Asa and I were being treated like heroes coming back from college and actually hanging out with high school kids. It was for a good cause, and we were into the games. I was ahead of everyone else until a wet-haired Crosby clad in Callie’s clothes crossed my line of vision.

I was innocent of ever having anything other than pure thoughts about her until that moment. But holy fucking hot shorts and crop top with ruffles that showed off her stomach. Long legs that had gone from coltish to supermodel while I was immersed in freshman English, breasts that were nonexistent what seemed like hours before were suddenly prominent and begging for attention. I was dumbstruck. I wanted to slap myself across the face and pick my own jaw up off the floor. Before I could even do that, I had to hide her body from everyone else.

“Christ, Crosby, what the fuck?” I stopped my game, not giving a shit how much the bet was for. Shrugging off my leather jacket, I strode over to where she stood, flung my jacket around her shoulders, and covered her the hell up.

“Hey, Weston. You missed. You tried so hard, but you couldn’t sink me.” She was happy to see me. Happy in general, her face flushed, lit up with elation, and her smile was ear to ear. She was wearing wedges, and their added height put her lips about even with my chin. I was shaking, shooting a death glare at every guy staring.

“Where are your clothes, Crosby?” I zipped up the jacket, covering her midriff.

“Wet in a bag in my locker. Asa dunked me, duh. Weren’t you there? Callie lent me some stuff.”

“I see that. Do you guys know how to play air hockey?” Maybe I could distract her, distract myself from that body. The attraction, the pull—whatever you want to call it—felt guilt-inducing, wrong, and totally fucking exhilarating.

Entire point being, she beat me that day. Fair and square. Crosby was sharp, and she was fast. She was sixteen, and I was going to hell for staring at her ass. Amid the whistles and the bells, the revving engines and the bad music, through the shouting teenagers and growling zombies, her score inched higher and higher on the board as mine fell with a negative buzzer. Her smile grew wider, and my gut grew heavier with disgrace. I’d defend the girl to death—she was the closest I’d ever had to a sister—but every time she made eye contact with me, my neck hair stood on end, I felt a charge in my lower spine, and a buzzing energy filled my head. Crosby felt it too; I could tell by her demeanor. But she couldn’t feel as fucked as I did because, to her, it was all new—the hormones, the crushes, flirting and teasing. But I was in college and I already knew. Crosby would be the end of me, and I knew it on the spot. She creamed me 7-1. Her game was good. Her innocence coupled with her beauty, though—that’s what obliterated my heart.

About the authors:

Aria Cole:
Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache. 

For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!

Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next!

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Mila Crawford:
Mila Crawford is a book lover and has been around them one way or another her whole life. She is a fan of happily ever afters, sassy heroines, over the top alphas, and most of all safe reads.


InkSlinger Presents a Audio Book Release for Can't Text This by Teagan Hunter



CAN’T TEXT THIS
Author: Teagan Hunter
Series: Texting #3
Audio Release Date: February 28, 2019

About the book:

"Hi Monty. Wanna see my python?"

That's how I ended up in the bathroom of some dive bar with a stranger.

Me, Monty Andrews, the quintessential virgin girl next door.

I was so out of my element, but there was no denying our explosive attraction, even via text.

Commence Operation Bang Each Other Out of Our Systems, because that was all it was--unfinished business.

I had no intention of falling back into the sheets with the tattooed, muscly, dirty-in-the-best-kind-of-way single dad over and over again...but I did.

Everything was going great--until we discovered I was his son's teacher.

Goodreads: 



About the author:
TEAGAN HUNTER is a Missouri-raised gal, but currently lives in North Carolina with her US Marine husband, where she spends her days begging him for a cat. She survives off coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When she’s not writing, you can find her binge-watching various TV shows, especially Supernatural and One Tree Hill. She enjoys cold weather, buys more paperbacks than she’ll ever read, and never says no to brownies. For more information, please visit www.teaganhunterwrites.com

Enticing Journey Promotions Presents Boston Underworld The Collection By A. Zavarelli




Title: Boston Underworld: The Complete Series
Author: A. Zavarelli
Genre: Contemporary romance with dark themes
Release Date: February 28, 2019
Model: Jonny James
Cover Designer: Coverluv Designs

Series Blurb: 
The complete Boston Underworld series box set includes six full-length novels- CROW, REAPER, GHOST, SAINT, THIEF, CONOR.

CROW:
He’s a killer. A mobster.

The last man on earth I’d ever want to be with. He’s one of the only leads in my best friend’s disappearance, and I don’t trust him. 

So I’ve got a few rules in mind when it comes to dealing with Lachlan Crow. 

1.Keep a clear head and don’t get distracted. 

2.Do what’s necessary and never forget why you’re there. 

3.Never, and I mean never, fall for him. 

REAPER:
He’s dark and mysterious. Quiet and lethal. 

An Irish mobster. 

Pure sin wrapped up in a beautiful package. 

But there’s also something off about him. 

He hasn’t spoken to me in two years. Not a single word. 

But we share a secret, he and I. 

And if it ever comes out, I have no doubt in my mind…

He won’t have a problem killing me too. 

GHOST:
I have always been a bird. Caged by one prison or another when the only thing I ever wanted was to fly away.

Sold. Beaten. Starved. Drugged. 

Nothing scares me anymore. 

Until him. 

SAINT:
Revenge is a dish best served in stilettos. I’ve got an eye for it, and nothing’s going to stand in my way. Not even Rory ‘The Saint’ Brodrick. 

He’s a fool if he thinks he can change me. By the time I’m through with him, I’ll make his mafia look like child’s play. 

Cross me, Mr. Brodrick?

You better cross your heart and hope to die. 

THIEF:
He's Russian mafiya. A thief. A skilled liar with no moral boundaries. He is everything I have been taught to hate. A man who stands for nothing. A man who takes what he wants without a second thought. 

And what he wanted was me. 

CONOR:
Conor O’ Callahan was exactly the kind of danger I was trying to avoid. He was gorgeous as sin with an accent hotter than Hades, but that’s where the charm ended. He was also cynical, cold, and downright cranky. 

So, you could imagine my surprise when he gave me a proposition. Marry him or lose my life. 

Goodreads:

Buy Links: Kindle Unlimited

Teasers: 








Author Bio: 
A. Zavarelli is a book junkie, cat lover, and traveler when plagued by intense cases of wanderlust. She likes all things chocolate, books that come with warnings, and putting her characters through hell. 

Her tales have been known to flirt with darkness and sometimes court it unabashedly altogether. Revenge themes and tortured souls are her favorites to write and this gives her an excuse to watch bizarre and twisted documentaries in her spare time.

She is slightly obsessed with Theo James and funny animal memes. If you don’t mind these things, you should add her on facebook. 

Social Media Links:
Website: azavarelli.com

Giveaway: