Saturday, March 31, 2018

A Little Spark Release Blitz!




Title: A Little Spark
Author: Amy K. McClung
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 31, 2018



Blurb

Sparks fly when sassy firefighter Jilli meets her match in Amy K. McClung’s enemies-to-lovers romance. 

When Sam and Jillian meet, the snark and sparks start to fly. Despite their intense attraction, words and actions are misunderstood, and miscommunication is rife. Will their stubbornness be their downfall or the start of something extraordinary?







Purchase Links

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU






Author Bio

Amy McClung was born in Nashville, TN. She is the second oldest of four girls and occasionally suffers from middle child syndrome. She met the love of her life online in August of 2004, on his birthday of all days, and married him in September 2005. Currently they have no human children only the room full of colorful robots that transform into vehicles and the large headed Pop Funko’s who represent their favorite characters. Collecting movies, shotglasses, Pop Funkos, and dust bunnies are some of her favorite pastimes. She began writing in September of 2011 and independently published her first YA novel called Cascades of Moonlight, Book one of the Parker Harris Series the following May. Her first book was a means of therapy for her as it enabled her to escape reality for a while during a difficult transition in her life.  


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Friday, March 30, 2018

Oscar Release Blitz!




Title: Oscar
Series: The Davenports #1
Author: SJ McCoy
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 27, 2018



Blurb

Oscar Davenport always wins. Always. He doesn’t come second, and he sure as hell doesn’t lose. He’s founded and sold three tech companies, netting him almost a billion dollars. He ran a hedge fund worth hundreds of billions—until he got bored. His latest project, Six, a nightclub in LA is another winner. It’s both a successful business and a playground full of playmates.

He’s never met an obstacle he couldn’t overcome or a woman he couldn’t have. Until now.

Grace Evans is the kind of girl you’d find curled up with a good book on a Saturday night—at least, usually. This Saturday night is different. This Saturday night she’s gotten all done up, in a dress she can barely breathe in and heels she can barely walk in. She had to. She had to venture into the lair of the enemy.

The enemy is Oscar Davenport, and his lair is his swanky nightclub. When she lays eyes on him, she’s ready to believe he’s the devil incarnate. His wicked smile, his beautiful eyes—everything about him is an invitation to sin. He moves with the grace and arrogance of a big cat about to pounce. Unfortunately, he’s moving straight toward her. He’s singled her out as his prey. He’s moving in for the kill.

Little does he know that she isn’t about to surrender; in fact, he’s in for the fight of his life.







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Excerpt

Once she was inside the elevator, she jabbed at the button again, this time trying to make the doors close. She really was shit out of luck this morning. Just as they began to slide together, a set of long, strong fingers slipped between them, and they slid open again. And there he was.
He stepped inside with a smile and a nod, then pressed to go to the eighteenth floor. Shit. That was her floor. He couldn’t go there.
“What do you need?”
She stared at him blankly. “Need?” Could he somehow see inside her mind, see all the months of a dry spell that had gone on way too long? Or could he see the images floating inside her head? Images of what the two of them could do if the elevator somehow got stuck.
The corners of his lips curved upward again. That just might be the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. “Which floor?”
“Oh!” Well, wasn’t she an idiot? Her mind raced. She couldn’t get off the elevator with him. He might think she was following him. “Seventeen.”
He hit the button, but before they started to move, the doors slid open again. Thank God for that!
Two men and two women came in and turned to face the doors, leaving Grace and the Big Cat alone in the silent space behind them. Grace gripped the tray with her two coffee cups and stared determinedly at the numbers above the door. She’d always suspected this was the world’s slowest elevator, but this morning’s ride confirmed it. Every second was torture. She could smell him—all citrus and man. She’d swear he was looking at her, but she refused to allow herself to sneak a peek. He’d catch her.
She tried looking down at the coffee cups, but that just made a strand of her hair fall across her face. She wrinkled her nose and tried to blow it away, then she froze. There were those long, strong fingers again. They brushed her cheek as they took the errant strand and tucked it behind her ear. If the heat had surged through her when he held the door open, then her blood was boiling in her veins right now. All the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up and sent shivers racing down her spine. Even her scalp tingled. She turned. How could she not?
Those big brown eyes were twinkling with amusement. “I hope I didn’t overstep? You looked uncomfortable.”
She shook her head mutely. What could she say, even if she could find the breath to speak?
The elevator stopped, and she silently begged the people in front of her not to get out. They couldn’t leave her alone in here with this guy—she would not be responsible for her actions. To her relief, they didn’t. Instead, two more got in, and that was quite a crowd. Everyone shuffled back a little. She had no clue how it happened, but somehow, she ended up face to face with Big Cat. She was in the corner, and he was right there in front of her, staring down into her eyes, that quirky little smile playing on his face again. She’d had a laugh with Spider the other night when one of the customers had tried hitting on her in the coffee shop. She’d told Spider that her sexual desires were dormant. Hell, had she been wrong about that. Standing here, face-to-face with this guy, she discovered that her sexual desires weren’t just active—oh, no, they were rampant. She was grateful for the tray of coffee she was gripping. It gave her hands something to do that kept them from reaching up to touch his face, maybe sinking into his hair or even sliding around his waist.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded rapidly, meeting his gaze briefly. Even she heard the gasp she made when he rested his hand on her hip. What was he doing? You didn’t just do that to a stranger in a crowded elevator.
“Are you sure?” He looked worried now. 
She looked down to where his hand rested on her hip. Except it wasn’t his hand—it was the purse the woman in front of her had slung over her shoulder. Grace couldn’t help it. She laughed. Wow, she needed to get laid. Okay, the guy was attractive, but he shouldn’t affect her this badly. “I’m fine, thanks. Have a great day.” She edged her way to the front and squeezed out through the doors before they had a chance to open fully on the seventeenth floor. She couldn’t help it. She had to look back before they closed. He’d made his way to the front, too. He met her gaze with a smile.
Bye, Big Cat. She bid him a sad farewell. At least, in the real world, the world where she’d never see him again. She had a feeling her imagination would be seeing a lot more of him in the nights to come.
She smiled back at him; there was no harm now. And he winked! The arrogant prick actually winked at her. She stood there staring as the doors slid shut, and then he was gone. 






Author Bio


I'm SJ, a coffee addict, lover of chocolate and drinker of good red wines. I'm a lost soul and a hopeless romantic. Reading and writing are necessary parts of who I am. Though perhaps not as necessary as coffee! I can drink coffee without writing, but I can't write without coffee.

I grew up loving romance novels, my first boyfriends were book boyfriends, but life intervened, as it tends to do, and I wandered down the paths of non fiction for many years. My life changed completely a couple of years ago and I returned to Romance to find my escape.

I write 'Sweet n Steamy' stories because to me there is enough angst and darkness in real life. My favorite romances are happy escapes with a focus on fun, friendships and happily-ever-afters, just like the ones I write.

These days I live in beautiful Montana, the last best place. If I'm not reading or writing, you'll find me just down the road in the park - Yellowstone. I have deer, eagles and the occasional bear for company, and I like it that way :0)


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Thursday, March 29, 2018

Royal Rebel Release Blitz!




Title: Royal Rebel
Series: Flings with Kings #2
Author: Jessica Peterson
Genre: Royal Romance/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 29, 2018



Blurb

Royal. Recklessly Rebellious. Totally Delicious.

SUBJECT: I'm sorry (Marked Confidential)
Sat 21 May 02:48 A.M.

From the Desk of His Royal Highness Prince Robert

Aly—can’t stop thinking about tonight. Never thought enemies like us would end up naked together. Again. Know you think I’m cocky, but come on, sweetheart…don’t tell me it’s not the best sex you’ve ever had.

I’m not a good man. But for the first time, I wish I were. Maybe then I’d deserve you. I don’t. Not when I come from a family like mine. All these secrets…

You’re gorgeous. Clever. You call me out on my bullshit, and I bloody adore it.

I adore you, sweetheart.

You have your new bloke. And I’m…me. The playboy prince. We’re not meant to be together. But staying away from you is killing me, Aly. Thinking about him touching you is killing me.

I’ve no right to talk to you like this. Im sorry. It’s the whiskey talking. This is what you do to me.

Rob

P.S.—I can’t send this. But I am thinking of you.







Purchase Links

99c for release week only!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio

Jessica Peterson began reading romance to escape the decidedly unromantic awkwardness of her teenage years. Having found solace in the likes of Mr. Darcy, Jamie Fraser (OMG love the gingers!), and Edward Cullen, it wasn’t long before she began creating tall, dark and handsome heroes of her own.

She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her husband, Mr. Peterson, and her smelly Goldendoodle Martha Bean. She is the author of the super sexy STUDY ABROAD and FLINGS WITH KINGS series. Check her out at www.jessicapeterson.com


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Monday, March 26, 2018

Friendly's Vienna Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Flavored Coffee #Giveaway!

Friendly's Vienna Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Flavored Coffee Giveaway

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Threshold Book Tour Spotlight!




Threshold
Patricia J. Anderson

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Common Deer Press


Date of Publication: March 27, 2018

ISBN Digital: 978-1-988761-17-6
ISBN Print: 978-1-988761-16-9

Number of pages: 240
Word Count:  66,000

Cover Artist: Carl Weins

Tagline: Fantastic Mr. Fox meets The Tao of Physics



The population of Ooolandia (a world much like our own but with an extra "O") is hypnotized by the culture of MORE. Citizens of all kinds and colors go about their lives unaware that hidden in the fog of everydayness a great calamity is approaching.

Banshooo, an amazingly mindful monkey, works for the Ooolandian Department of Nature with his colleague a mathlete mouse. Together they have amassed data proving, beyond any doubt, that the natural world is losing the stability necessary to sustain life. Unfortunately, their warnings are ignored by the authorities who are planning to phase out nature altogether.

Freaky winds, icy earthquakes, and mutant anemones plague the landscape. After a wildly devastating storm, Banshooo has a vision revealing the connection between Ooolandia and the Unseen World -- a connection that lies deep within and far beyond all that is seen. This connection is vital to Ooolandia's survival, and it is fraying. He realizes he must take radical action. Along with his quirky sidekick (a one-off of unique appearance whose primary interest is snacking), he sets out on a journey beyond the surface of the Seen to bring back proof of the true nature of nature.









“Oh you know, same ol’, same ol’, still working on that whole transmutation thing. Can’t quite get it down. Can’t quite get it … still trying … still might … still …” His voice trails off as he furrows his brow, apparently lost in the intricacies of some possibility known only to him.
            Ambrose tries again.  “Morie, I’d like you to meet Banshooo. He has an interesting story to tell.”
            The alchemist comes back to the moment, squinting anew at Banshooo. “Ah yes, yes, very nice. Very nice.”  He removes a pile of books from a thread-bare couch, looking about near-sightedly. “I think maybe I’ve got some sherry around here someplace.”
            “That’s not necessary, really.” Ambrose smiles, eyeing a shelf of cob-webby wine glasses sitting next to a bottle marked sulfuric acid. “We just want to talk.”
            “Talk? With me? How nice. Yes, very nice, very nice.”
            Ambrose nudges Banshooo. “Go ahead. Morienus knows about these things.” 
            Banshooo looks at this old man whose long white beard appears to have been used for a napkin. He knows alchemy was once a respected field of study but not anymore, something to do with a failure to turn things into gold. This wrinkled dusty old guy appears to be the last of his kind.
            Banshooo hesitates but Ambrose nods encouragingly. “Go on, talk to him.” And so the monkey tells the alchemist about the sound that washed over him in the meadow. Morie listens intently, his palms together, his fingers against his chin. Now he nods, thoughtfully, then says,
“Ah yes.  That could be.  A sound wave is a physical force. Vibratory resonance can open up a state of awareness beyond the usual everyday state.”
             Banshooo nods. “Yes, that’s what happened. After the sound came, I was able to see something else, something I couldn’t see just walking around normally.”
            “And what was that?”
            “Well, the first time I saw … dying. So much dying.” He lowers his head.  “Extinction everywhere.”
            “And the second time?”
            “The second time I saw …” He pauses.
            The alchemist raises his bushy eyebrows. “You saw what?”
            Banshooo looks at Ambrose who nods reassuringly. He continues. “I remembered what happened when my mother died.”
            “Hmmm.”  Morie speaks slowly, almost to himself. “This could be a case of resonance, of limbic resonance activating a matched filter.”
            Banshooo frowns. “What does that mean?”
            Morie leans back. “Experience creates a vibration that stays within you. That vibration is a kind of tone, reverberating to certain pitches, certain events and beings. It acts almost like an antenna, picking up one kind of transmission but deaf to others. In effect, everyone is an antenna, vibrating with their own individual experiences.” He puts his gnarled, veined hands on the arms of the chair and lifts himself up, walking slowly around the room.
            “At the same time, sound waves are constantly moving through space, looking for something that will receive them. When they find a match,” he stops and brings his hands together, “we resonate.” He gives a little half-smile. “In effect, beings are like old-fashioned radio receivers, calibrated to pick up one signal and filter out the others, looking for the frequency that will resonate, that will match.” He looks at Banshooo. “A sound can remind you of something you know, even if you don’t know you know it, enlivening something hidden within you, for good or for ill.”  
            Banshooo’s eyes are wide. “It felt like that, like something reverberating in me. Like something alive.”
            “So what happened in this re-“ he pauses, “membering?”
            Banshooo looks up at Morie, ready to tell this old man what he saw.
            “My mother was dead. She was cold. I was cold too. Really cold. Then a shadow came, a shadow shaped like her. And it touched her. Then it touched me. And I wasn’t cold anymore. I was all right.”
            The alchemist is squinting at Banshooo, his expression no longer one of patient instructor. “Are you making this up? That wouldn’t be nice you know, to fool with me.”
            “No. No. I’m not making anything up.” He looks at Ambrose who speaks firmly.
            “He’s not, Morie, I saw it too. A shadow bent down and touched them both. It was like the deep heart of … something. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
            Morienus sits back down in his chair with a stunned expression on his face. After several silent moments he speaks quietly. “You saw a parayama, the highest essence of a species. The one who comes for the dead.” His eyes narrow. “You’re not supposed to see that unless ….”
            “Unless what?”
            “Unless you’re dead”
            “He’s not dead,” Ambrose says.
            “I noticed that. It’s very puzzling.” The alchemist continues. “The essence of the species appears only to that being who has died. You can’t see the parayama that comes for another, you can only see the parayama that comes for you.”
            “But I did. I saw it. I was alone and it protected me. And then there was a soft kind of purring that turned into the most incredible music I’ve ever heard. No. Not music, almost music, like music, but different … it was like they were showing me things, unseen things. And I was safe. I was secure and safe.”
            Ambrose and Morienus look at each other. The owl makes a little shrugging motion, “You’ve got to admit, it’s a miracle he survived. Once his mother died, he might as well have had a sign pointed at his head saying ‘Free Lunch.’”
            Morie nods. “Yes, that’s true. That’s very true.”
            Ambrose speaks slowly as he considers this improbable possibility. “It must have been your mother’s parayama. And it stayed to care for you. That’s a very rare experience, Banshooo. That doesn’t usually happen.”
            “Never, actually.” Morie is staring at Banshooo. “It never happens.” He shakes his head slowly and says it again. “Never.”

            There is a long pause as the ramifications of this statement float through the dingy laboratory.











Patricia J Anderson’s essays and short stories have appeared in numerous periodicals including The Sun, Tricycle, Chronogram, Ars Medica, Glamour Magazine and Rewire Me.com. Her books include All of Us, a critically acclaimed investigation of cultural attitudes and beliefs, and Affairs In Order, named best reference book of the year by Library Journal. She is the recipient of The Communicator Award for online excellence and has produced exhibition, kiosk and website copy for such institutions as the American Museum of Natural History and the Capital Museum. She is the editor of Craig Barber’s Vietnam journal, Ghosts in the Landscape. She lives with her family in New York’s Hudson Valley.




















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Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Broken Bitch Book Blitz!




Contemporary Romance
Date Published: January 1, 2018

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Callie McKenzie hadn't had a good introduction to life.

A drug addicted mother caught in the crossfire of a bar shootout saw her dumped in the foster system at the age of thirteen.

Life finally seemed to take a turn for the better when she was offered adoption by a kindly couple but, she knew it couldn't last. Tragedy puts an end to her dream of a happy life when she is taken to the isolated farm of an abusive distant relative.

At the age of seventeen, beaten and bruised, fearing for her life, Callie flees.

In the dead of night, on a lonely road, Jake Prentiss - President of a motorcycle club, finds her stumbling to freedom.

In the weeks that follow she is slowly pieced back together and falls hard for her knight in shining leather. It doesn't last long and tragedy once again strikes.

At the age of eighteen, Callie finds herself alone again and in prison.

Her cousin always said she was a BITCH.

Now, she was also BROKEN.



About the Author


I’m a Queensland, Australia gal and live in a small village in a rural area where the noise is that of birds and the air is clean.

For 35 years I worked as a Nurse in ER and Theater. I retired in 2011 and since then I have been able to devote my time to my first love and passion – storytelling.

Married to a Naval Officer for 44 years, we moved around the country on postings and lived overseas in Papua New Guinea for 3 ½ years. Living in a place, experiencing what the cities have to offer, their own unique beauty and way of life, gave me great ideas for stories I would later write.

Under my real name – Susan Horsnell, I write Western Historical Romance set in Texas or South Dakota (as I have travelled extensively in both) and so as not to confuse my readers, I write Steamy Contemporary, M/F, M/M, Menage and even a Shapeshifter under my pen name of A.L. Simpson.

I love exploring different genres and using life experience to weave into my stories. I love drama, twists, hard heroes with a soft center, which is sometimes hard to find and strong heroines who find themselves completed when they find their soulmate.

In our retirement, my husband and I travel a great deal although now, with an aging and ailing dog, we have confined it to exploring the beauty of Australia in our very well-appointed caravan as we are able to take her with us. I document our travels on my Facebook page for all to enjoy with me.

I hope you will take the time to pick up one of my books and I look forward to hearing from my readers either via Facebook or email.



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