April 4 2016

(Not So) Good in a Room Release Blitz @karenmbryson @MTWPromotions

Title: (Not So) Good in a Room

Series: California Dreamers #1

Author: Dakota Madison

Genre: Adult, Romantic Comedy

Published: April 1, 2016

Published by: Short on Time Books

She’s not the kind of girl he can take home to daddy.

(NOT SO) GOOD IN A ROOM, a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison, is a modern reimagining of Cyrano de Bergerac.

Awkward screenwriter Nellie Berg is great with words, as long as she can write them down. She’s written over thirty action scripts, but has been unable to sell a single one to Hollywood. Instead of working the room, every time Nellie tries to pitch her scripts to producers she becomes overcome with anxiety and completely blanks out.

When Nellie meets another aspiring screenwriter, Roscoe Rhodes, at Pitchfestapalooza they form an unlikely friendship. Roscoe is everything Nellie is not: outgoing, witty, charming…and good in a room. Roscoe suggests that Nellie hire his cousin, Chris, an unemployed actor to pitch her scripts to producers.

Things get complicated when Nellie falls for Chris and she seeks Roscoe’s help to seal the deal. Roscoe realizes he actually has feelings for Nellie. And Hollywood falls in love with the hot the new pretend screenwriter, who has never even read an entire script let alone written one.

WARNING: This book contains foul language, sexual innuendo and a little bit of hanky panky.

Buyer beware.

CALIFORNIA DREAMERS is a series of interconnecting romantic comedy stories that can be read as STAND ALONE NOVELLAS or as part of the SERIES.

The CALIFORNIA DREAMERS SERIES:

(Not So) Good in a Room (Nellie’s Story)

Beautiful Abyss (Chris’s Story)

So Far Away (Maddie’s Story)

Rookie Mistake (Cody & Maya’s Story)

 

 

 

(Not So) Good in a Room Excerpt © Dakota Madison 2016

 

When I finally make it out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby I do my best to compose myself, but to no avail. I’m definitely going to throw up.

I hurry into the ladies room and just make it to the toilet before I begin to dry heave. My stomach was so twisted with nerves I couldn’t eat anything all day so there’s nothing of any significance to come up.

Tears begin to stream down my face and within moments I’m a sobbing heap of hopelessness on the bathroom floor. I allow myself to release all of the tension I’ve been holding in and wail for several minutes. When I finally feel like I’ve cried the well dry I take in what I hope will be a deep, calming breath.

Will I ever be able to pitch without experiencing complete and utter terror? How will I ever make it in the business if I can’t?

You have to pull yourself together, Nellie.

A knock on the stall I’m occupying startles me.

Then I hear a female voice say, “Is everything okay in there?”

“Fuck off.” The harsh words pop out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them. I don’t mean to be rude, but it seems to happen a lot.

I hear the sound of footsteps as whoever I just swore at scurries out of the bathroom.

As I pull myself up from the floor I hike up the white tights that have gathered at my knees. I do my best to smooth out the wrinkles in the black and white polka dot dress I’m wearing.

I slowly step out of the stall and glance around the bathroom just to make sure it’s empty.

I would glance at myself in the mirror, but I know it would just make me feel worse than I already do. Not only would I be a failure, I’d be a hideous looking one as well. I’d like to at least be able to function under the illusion that I’m not completely repulsive looking.

Unfortunately my body isn’t quick enough for my brain. I catch a glance at my reflection in the mirror as I pass by. It’s even worse than I imagined it would be. Calling me frightening looking would be a compliment.

I give my reflection the middle finger as I walk out of the bathroom.

I must still be in a post-anxiety-attack fog because I don’t even see the young producer I attempted to pitch to until I plow right into him.

“I’m so sorry.” I’m surprised when coherent words actually come out of my mouth this time.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No,” I sputter as I hurry away before I embarrass myself even further.

I scan the large lobby. It’s packed with lines of screenwriters waiting to pitch to producers. There’s one dark corner on the opposite side of the crowded area that looks like a safe zone where I can hide and catch my breath.

I close my eyes for a moment and rub my temples. I’m probably ten minutes away from a major headache on top of everything else.

When I open my eyes I see a very tall guy headed in my direction. Of course I’m only five feet tall, so nearly everyone on the planet over the age of ten is taller than me, but this guy is like a giant. His hair and eyes are as dark as mine, but his are on a much more attractive package.

For some reason the guy is waving a pack of gum at me.

“Want a piece?” he asks.

In a room filled with hundreds of people why on Earth has he singled me out? And why would he think I want gum?

He waits for several moments and stares at me. When I don’t reply he says, “No gum I guess.”

“Please go somewhere that isn’t here.”

He frowns. “Like you own Pitchfestapalooza.”

“Find your own corner,” I hiss.

I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t budge. He continues to stare at me, like he’s examining a specimen.

I shoot daggers at him hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Fine, I’ll go. Sorry for invading your personal space.”

When he takes off into the sea of emerging screenwriters I breathe a small sigh of relief.

Don’t you just love that term? Emerging screenwriter. It’s a nice way to say wannabe.

That’s what we are. Wannabes. Every person here is scrounging for that one break that will finally get him or her into the business.

I can’t waste my one shot at finally making my dream come true.

I remove my one-sheet from my handbag and stare at it. I’ve gone over my logline and story synopsis thousands of times. I’ve got every word on the page memorized. I have no idea why I can’t just say the words when I actually sit down to pitch.

I have to do this. I have to at least try again. I’d never be able to live with myself if I gave up so easily.

I shove my one-sheet back into my handbag as I make my way over to one of the lines of writers waiting for the opportunity to meet with an action film producer.

Pitchfestapalooza is run like a well-oiled machine. I have to give credit where credit is due. Screenwriters line up to meet with producers by genre and lines keep moving at a fairly brisk pace. It’s set up a little like speed dating, but we’re pitching producers for deals, not trying to score with the opposite sex.

Luckily the line I’ve selected isn’t that long. It’s about half as long as the lines for the screenwriters pitching horror scripts or comedy projects. I’m not surprised that I’m the only female in line. It’s pretty well known that there’s sexism in the film industry, but it seems to be even worse when it comes to action movies.

But I love the genre, and even though I have a vagina, I can’t see myself writing anything else.

I don’t realize until he turns around that I’m standing right behind the tall guy who offered me the gum.

He flashes me a charismatic smile. The type of grin you might see on a used car salesman or politician.

Why do I get the feeling this guy could sell dirt to a farmer?

“So what do you have against gum?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Then it’s me you don’t like.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Then let’s remedy that situation right now.” He extends a hand for me to shake. “I’m Roscoe Rhodes.”

I’m sure he’s wondering why I’m not returning the gesture. I don’t like touching people I don’t know. It’s one of my numerous obsessions.

He waits for a long moment. When it’s obvious I’m not going to shake his hand he says, “You know, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“My name’s not Dorothy.”

“At least I got you to say something.”

“Nellie Berg,” I tell him. “And how did you know I’m from Kansas?”

“I didn’t. You’re dressed like Dorothy Gale. What’s up with that outfit?”

I look down at my black patent leather shoes, white tights, black and white polka dot skirt. Then I glance around me. Everyone else is wearing dress jeans and button-down shirts with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Somehow I must have missed the screenwriters’ attire memo.

So in addition to being a bundle of nerves I look completely and totally out of place. Isn’t that just great for my self-esteem?

“You know this producer only makes action films,” Roscoe says.

I don’t even try to hide my scowl. “I know that.”

He points to another line directly across the lobby from us. “The line for romantic comedy is over there.”

“So?” I glare at him.

“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable over there?”

“You mean somewhere where there isn’t a misogynistic jerk standing in front of me?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve written a script for an action movie?”

As I shake my head defiantly I wonder why I’m even talking to this asshole.

“Then what are you doing in this line?” His condescending tone is really starting to piss me off.

“I’ve written scripts for thirty action movies.” Choke on that you prick.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You don’t strike me as the type who would be interested in writing action scripts.”

“And why is that? Because I’m female? Have you bought into the sexist notion that women can’t write action scripts?”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. As much as I’d like him to crawl into a hole somewhere he stares right back at me.

“Maybe it’s the pink polka dot purse you’re holding. That just screams action film. Or the outfit you’re wearing. If Shirley Temple and Dorothy Gale had a love child she would dress like you. Except you look more like a Munchkin with your little round face and tiny body.”

I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. This guy just says whatever he thinks, doesn’t he. “You know that’s really insulting.”

“Munchkin,” he repeats.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, Munch. You look like one of the dolls from the cabbage patch. I just want to put you on a shelf.”

“I consider that a micro-aggression.”

“Boo-hoo. What are you going to do? Call the PC police because I hurt your feelings?”

“You’re kind of a jerk.”

“Everyone says I’m charming.”

This guy is definitely no prince. “I guess everyone is wrong.”

USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing new adult, love in midlife, and contemporary romance with a little spice and lots of heart. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she’s not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.

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March 31 2016

223 Bonny Street Promo Tour @tmkamson @MTWPromotions

223 Bonny Street

by Firi Kamson

Genre: Adult, Women’s Fiction

Published: March 27, 2016

Set in the south east of Nigeria, 223 Bonny Street is a story about surviving loss, finding your identity and making connections.

After an accident, waking up in another person’s body seems like a dream until Ikenna realizes that he is faced with the stark reality of Nkechi’s life, the woman whose body he occupies. He experiences the pain and joy, strength and sacrifices of a woman.

The two of them make a connection beyond the physical, but matters of the heart are delicate. When secrets from the past are revealed, will their connection be strong enough to survive?

 

 

 

223 Bonny Street Excerpt © Firi Kamson 2016

 

“Nkechi! Why did you scare us like that? I have told you, you have to be strong”, the frail looking old woman, who had helped him get up, spoke.

Looking at her again, he tried to remember who she was. “Okay ma”, he replied, whilst still struggling to get to grips with the whole situation. Swallowing his question, sensing that this old lady wasn’t to be questioned by anybody, he remained puzzled.

Looking at the chair he was sitting on, he realised this wasn’t his favorite army green reclining chair, where he sat in the evenings watching football, with strict house rules that nobody else was allowed to sit on his chair, not even the president. Turning to his left, he saw a group of men, who looked like they were in their mid forties or early fifties, and what struck him was that they were all wearing black, and they looked his way, speaking amongst themselves.

“Please, what are these men doing”, he asked the young lady who was standing by his side.

Looking at him rather strangely. “They are discussing the burial preparation of Godwin”, she whispered.

“Who is Godwin?” he asked, as he watched the blood drain from her face.

Whispering something he couldn’t hear to the old frail looking lady, she turned to him. Taking his hands in hers. “Come with me”, she ordered.

Still not settled after what had happened to him, Ikenna obliged. Allowing himself to be dragged as they walked into a dark room, she switched on the light and  shoved him in front of the big standing mirror.

“Look at yourself properly in the mirror, before you ask me that rubbish question again, about Godwin”.

The moment Ikenna looked at the mirror he knew that he must have become mentally deranged. What he was looking at was the face and body of a woman. A woman, who had aged overnight, even though she was relatively young. She was of average height, had a round face, full bosom, but the bottom line was that he was a woman and was pregnant. Turning around, as he looked at the lady, he muttered, “Who is this? Is this a joke?” Glancing at the mirror again, he touched his skin.

Firi Kamson was born in Nigeria, where she grew up. Becoming a lawyer, a writer and a pilot was her childhood dream, she dropped the lawyer part and got a B.A. in foreign languages and literature specialty French. Worked as a freelance translator and a photographer for a couple of years before she decided to explore the creative world of writing. She writes a column for www.sabinews.com, as Tee, an online Nigerian based magazine, where she journals her experiences in South East Asia. The dream of becoming a pilot is still there and who knows one day it would be fulfilled. She lives in South East Asia with her nerdy husband and very active daughter and son. Ere’s Secret is her first work.

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March 27 2016

Bound to Ransom Promo Tour @KiruTaye @MTWPromotions

Title: Bound to Ransom

Series: Bound #2

Author: Kiru Taye

Genre: Adult, Suspense Romance

Published: March 21, 2016

About the Book

Since the death of her mother, Gloria Rawlins’ life has been a string of disappointments by the people she cares about; first by her father and then in a series of disastrous relationships that have shattered pieces of her heart one after another. She knows she’s no angel and refuses to make herself vulnerable to anyone again. Until one man threatens to strip away the wall shielding her heart.

Henry Coker is not afraid of challenges. Abandoned by his father and raised by a single mother, he’s had to work hard from the bottom up to prove himself to his peers and the world. But Gloria, the one person he desires above all others remains out of reach until an opportunity presents itself and he has the chance to buy her from her father.

Despite their incongruous arrangement, desire like theirs cannot be hidden and passion sizzles between them. But making someone fall in love may just be a challenge too far.

Bound to Ransom is a story about breaking the cycle of self-destruction, finding redemption and the powerful love that endures.

 

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Bound to Ransom Excerpt © Kiru Taye 2016

 

For a few seconds, Gloria stood still staring at the door, her father’s slumped shoulders and laden footsteps as he left replaying in her mind over and over.

Her chin trembled and she stared down to her empty hands feeling a little lost. What was going on? When she’d left home today, she’d thought she’d be escorting her dad to the meeting for moral support. She hadn’t known she wouldn’t be going back home with him.

“Will you need anything else?” James appeared at the door.

She blinked and turned around so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

“No. That will be all for now. Thanks, James,” Henry said in a deep calm voice that settled over her like a warm blanket.

She’d momentarily forgotten he was still in the room as he hadn’t said anything when her father had made the speech about making him pay if anything bad happened to her.

The quiet click of the door announced that James had departed and it was now the two of them alone in the office.

The space wasn’t as massive as Ike’s office, but it was large enough. The furniture pieces were designed for functionality rather than aesthetics, and they matched the personality of the man who worked here.

Henry had gone quiet again. He had to be watching her because the hairs on the back of her neck stood erect. She sucked in a deep breath to ease the tension that had returned to her shoulders. Chin tilted up and shoulders squared, she turned to face him.

He sat back on the sofa, ankle crossed over the other knee, left hand on the padded arm of the seater and right fingers stroking the soft leather cushion beside him.

For one moment, her gaze tracked the slow, caressing movements of his hand and she imagined it was her bare skin. Her nipples pebbled and warmth spread across her body.

“Gloria, come and sit down. We need to talk.”

His words roused her from her daydream. She looked up at his face. His lips curled in a lopsided smirk, his head cocked.

Her nose flared. She raised her chin as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Yes, we need to talk. But I’m not sitting down until I know exactly what’s going on.”

He didn’t move, his intent gaze unwavering. “I thought your father explained everything to you. You now belong to me.”

A shiver travelled down her spine at the rough edge to his words.

“Belong to you?” She laughed derisively. “We’re not married yet. I don’t belong to you or anyone else.”

He brushed lint off his jacket leisurely before undoing the buttons and slipping it off his body. The white-blue hairline stripe shirt fit his body like a glove and the navy blue herringbone silk tie matched his suit. Square silver cufflinks glinted as he lifted the champagne bottle out of the bucket with a napkin.

“We’re not getting married,” he said as he gently pushed the cork from the bottle.

She reared back.

“We’re not? Isn’t that what this whole deal is about?” She waved her hand around in the air.

He didn’t look up at her but continued working the cork. Slowly. Deliberately.

“I don’t know anywhere in the world where a man has to pay a hundred million dollars to marry a wife. If I’d wanted a marriage, I would’ve done it for a whole lot less and certainly to a woman who doesn’t hate my guts.”

He was definitely right about the fact that she hated his guts. But her mind was stuck on the amount.

“You paid a hundred million dollars?”

“Yes,” he said as the cork popped.

She flinched and froze as the realisation hit her. “You bought me.”

“That’s right, Princess. I own every piece of you—lock, stock, and designer hair.” He winked at her as he poured the bubbly drink into the crystal flutes.

Other Books in the Series

About the Author

Kiru is the award winning author of His Treasure. She writes sensual and passionate multicultural romance stories set mostly in Africa. When she’s not writing you can find her either immersed in a good book or catching up with friends and family. She currently lives in the South of England with her husband and three children.

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March 24 2016

Secondhand Hearts Blog Tour @Y_vonneWilson @MTWPromotions

Title: Secondhand Hearts

Author: Yvonne Wilson

Genre: Adult, Second Chance Romance

Published: February 2, 2016

One shot and she was gone forever.

One moment.

One decision.

I was no longer living.

Fading.

Dying.

My past and my present were stolen.

Lost.

Misled.

My heart was broken that day.

Damaged.

Shattered.

But Secondhand Hearts can be mended.

Treasured.

Loved.

Forgiven.

 

 

 

Secondhand Hearts Excerpt #2 © Yvonne Wilson 2016

 

~Kessler

My lips are dry, so I drain the last few drops of Monster into my mouth. Using my tongue to coat my lips in that syrupy mixture of energy in a can, I feel Jai’s feathery brush of her lips against mine. Like fresh strawberries, plump and sweet. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her

And then as fast as it came, it’s gone. The vision is no longer there. My body, my mind, emotions, everything is in an ugly tug of war.

Memories: 1 Me: 0

I’m so fucking afraid. I’ve lost more of those moments, and there’s no way I can lose these memories too. But those memories remind me that Jai’s gone, allowing the darkest and blackest memory to wrap its unforgiving fingers around my heart. They squeeze so hard that I think I might bleed out. And when I relinquish control and accept their grasp’s bidding, they release me, clapping and cheering with the hostile irony they’ve created just for me.

My cheek against the cold concrete pulls me back to my reality, and I laugh. From exhaustion, from disbelief…

I don’t know.

Sweat from my workout coats my body and soaks into my clothes, creating a chill against my damp skin, so I’ll stay awake and I continue to laugh hysterically. My legs curl up to my chest and I’m on my side staring at a mark on the floor made by someone’s shoe. This makes me laugh harder.

Tears begin to fall from my tired eyes, so I swipe them away with one hand, trying to get them to stop, but more tumble out. They keep coming until it is one stream of salty liquid and I don’t want them to stop anymore.

I wonder how long I can cry before the tears cease to fall? Can I cry myself to death?

My sounds are odd and strangled, getting louder and louder. I hope Jaina can see me here. That she sees what she has reduced me to and how pathetic I am.

“BITCH! Can you hear me? Is this what you wanted? You win. Fuck you. Let’s play a different game now.” I’ve got my two middle fingers waving in the air in a lame attempt to send her a signal of surrender or maybe it’s to say “Fuck You.” Either way it’s not what I really feel or really want her to know. “I love you, baby. Come back and take me with you. Do you hear me? I said I fucking love you, but I hate you more.”

I don’t though.

I don’t hate her.

I can’t hate her.

Yvonne Wilson is a teacher by day, working at the elementary level in the resource and learning assistance areas. Her writing is fit into any time possible between taking her three kids to their various sports and activities. She lives in the rainy Pacific Northwest of British Columbia, and will often be found curled up with a good book or watching a crime drama. Yvonne has a love for running shoes even though she doesn’t run, but they sure make an outfit look super cute. She loves guacamole and will eat that by itself or on almost anything. Ice cream ranks pretty high too.

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March 16 2016

Never Too Late Blog Tour @authorsloanj @MTWPromotions

Title: Never Too Late
Series: Home in the Heartland #1
Author: Sloan Johnson

Genre: Adult, M/M Romance
Published: March 7, 2016

Dax: My life ended six years ago. No, really. I was dead on the side of the road following a gruesome motorcycle accident. From what I’ve been told, it’s only because of one stubborn man that I have another chance to make something of my life. I no longer hate him for screwing up what I thought I wanted. I want to thank him. NEED to tell him what his actions mean to me.

Now, I’m headed back to the town I’ve never set foot in even though it’s a huge part of my life. I’m not thrilled about that, but the job offers haven’t exactly been flowing in. They’ll probably think I’m crazy, because there’s no way I won’t be able to look at every guy I walk past, wondering if he’s the one who saved me.

Michael: My entire life, I wanted to save lives. I’d earned a full-ride scholarship and had been accepted to med schools across the country. I was so close to making those dreams a reality until the night held a dying man in my arms. I’ve never been able to get the images of his lifeless body caked in mud out of my head. Even when the paramedics tried to take over trying to save him, I couldn’t let go. I never let go. Eventually, my guilt over not doing more cost me everything but my son. And now, I worry I’ll lose him if I don’t get it together.

I’ve often thought that if I could find him, maybe I could get some closure and finally get my life back on track. Now he’s here and I’m more of a mess than ever. Once the truth comes out, will he keep trying to save me or will he realize that it’s too late?

Sloan Johnson is a big city girl trapped in a country girl’s life. While she longs for the hustle and bustle of New York City or Las Vegas, she hasn’t yet figured out how to sit on the deck with her morning coffee, watching the deer and wild turkeys in the fields while surrounded by concrete and glass.

When she was three, her parents received their first call from the principal asking them to pick her up from school. Apparently, if you aren’t enrolled, you can’t attend classes, even in Kindergarten. The next week, she was in preschool and started plotting her first story soon after.

Later in life, her parents needed to do something to help their socially awkward, uncoordinated child come out of her shell and figured there was no better place than a bar on Wednesday nights. It’s a good thing they did because this is where she found her love of reading and writing. Who needs socialization when you can sit alone in your bedroom with a good book?

Now, Sloan is a tattooed mom with a mohawk and two kids. She’s been kicked out of the PTA in two school districts and is no longer asked to help with fundraisers because she’s been known to lose herself with a good book and forget she has somewhere to be.

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March 1 2016

I Hear…Love Release Blitz @AnnalisaNicole4 @MTWPromotions

Title: I Hear…Love
Series: A Different Road #2
Author: Annalisa Nicole

Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: February 29, 2016
Kate Mason at twenty-three, feels as though she has lived through enough sorrow and pain to fill generations of lifetimes. On the outside, she wears a beautiful mask. On the inside, she’s a million, jagged, broken pieces. She blames herself, not only for her parent’s death, but for her brother’s blindness.

For Kate there is no hope of silencing the chaos in her head. There is no forgiveness for what she has done to her family, or herself. There will never be anyone to love her and her shattered past.

Cooper Sullivan recently moved to Malibu and was immediately adopted by a stray black lab he named Sadie. Cooper soon realizes there is something very special about Sadie when she is drawn to a beautiful woman, with a kaleidoscope of emotions that churn deep in her eyes.

Cooper sees Kate’s broken pieces scattered all around her, but he finds himself wanting to show her just how beautiful each piece is. Underneath her mask, he sees an even more beautiful woman, and he wants to help her put the broken pieces back together.

When you are broken you can never be fully put back together. There are always tiny slivers here and there that can never be replaced.

Can Kate finally silence the noise enough to forgive herself and hear the one thing she desires most?

Can one truly hear…love?

I’m an “Indie” Adult Contemporary Romance author. A thought occurred to me in December of 2012 that maybe I could write a romance novel. So, I went to work with the encouragement of my husband and my sister-in-law.

It didn’t take long to figure out that I really enjoy writing. I published my debut novel Take A Chance in October of 2013.

I’ve been married to my wonderful husband since 1996, and I love being a stay-at-home mom to our two teenage boys. I was born and raised in Michigan, but currently live in sunny California.

I’m a self-published author, and it’s been an amazing, crazy, wonderful journey.

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February 24 2016

Noah’s Journey Blog Tour @charms0814 @MTWPromotions

Title: Noah’s Journey
Series: Sawyer Brothers #3
Author: C.A. Harms

Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: February 2, 2016
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
The years that were taken can never be repaid.
The memories stolen can never be returned.

But I had to move forward…for him, my son.

Noah had spent years wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering what he’d done wrong to make Stacey leave. The heartache from her absence and the what-ifs of their past eventually turned to anger—and then disgust.

It took years for him to move on, and once he did, his past came thundering back, revealing a secret.

A secret that would forever change his future.

Alena had waited for the chance to have more with Noah. He was an enigma, a man of mystery, yet she wasn’t quite ready to give up on him. She knew there was more to him than what he allowed those around him to see. She was drawn to his charm and his calm nature. With an uprooted past of her own, she craved a little stability more than anything. But when things between them finally begin to grow into more, their relationship is tested.

Will it all be too much for Alena to handle?

Or will she decide to stay and be a part of…Noah’s Journey?



Noah’s Journey Excerpt © C.A. Harms 2015/2016

Prologue
Noah
A Little Over Four Years Ago
“I just can’t do this anymore, Noah. This is not the life I want or where I want to be forever. I thought you wanted more too. More than this quiet town with no real hope of being somebody.” Stacey sat on the end of my bed, the sheet still wrapped around her naked body.
Of all the times to have this type of conversation, I never thought it would be now. She chose first thing in the morning when I was already late for work.
“So what are you saying?” I asked as I stood in the doorway, fisting my shirt in my hands. I was trying not to blow up, trying to remain the rational one in this relationship.
“I don’t want to be here, in Livingston, for the rest of my life. I want to go somewhere with greater opportunities. I feel like if I stay here, I’m giving up my dreams. I feel like I’m drowning.”
She stood from the bed and let the sheet fall to the floor. Stacey was a gorgeous woman—tall, fit, and almost angelic. She was also very selfish and spoiled. Everyone called her by first name until she finally forced her parents to change it to her middle name instead. “Jessie” was entirely too hick for her taste.
“Noah, you had to see this coming,” she said. And the lack of compassion in her voice only made my anger grow.
“I had to see this coming? Are you fucking serious right now?” I took a step toward her, and she quickly slipped her shirt on over her head. “I asked you to marry me, and now you’re fucking telling me you’re leaving?” I lifted my hand and gripped my hair, pulling at the ends. “So what the hell was last night? And again this morning? One last roll in the sack before you walk out on me?”
“Come with me,” she said with a hopeful expression.
“I can’t just pick up and walk away. I just got on track with where I want to be at the station. I have the ranch and my responsibilities to my family. Plus, this is my home. I don’t want to leave.”
“Then you’re choosing this place and all of them over us.” She actually had the nerve to look hurt and offended.
I stood in the center of the room, watching as she began grabbing items and tossing them in her bag. “I have to get out of here. I gave you the option to come with me, and you declined. So that is on you.”
Heat rose in my neck, and a swooshing sound filled my ears as I fought against my anger. “It’s on me, what the fuck? You’re truly something else, you know that? You throw this shit at me five minutes before my shift starts at the station and have the nerve to blame the end of us on me. You fucking did this.”
She ignored me as she finished dressing and gathered some more of her things. I stepped up behind her and grabbed the bag from her hands, making her stop what the hell she was doing and look at me.
Stacey spun around and gasped as I leaned in, bringing my face only inches from hers. “This is all on you. You’ve been planning this escape all along. Now you want to blame me.” I stepped back and held my arm out, pointing toward the door of my apartment. “Get out,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll send your shit to your parents, because right now I can’t fucking look at you a minute longer.”
Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. I gave a sarcastic chuckle as I shook my head. She had already pushed me past my breaking point, and I was through playing the nice guy. “Cut the tears, Stacey. You wanted this, you got it. Now get out. I’m not holding you back from your perfect life any longer.”
I waited until the door slammed before I caved and sat on the end of the bed. My clothes from last night were still tossed around the room. I had given her years of my life, thinking we had a future.
I guess her being younger and unsettled should have warned me off, but her vibrant attitude was what had attracted me from the start. Now I just felt like a dumbass for not seeing what others saw in her. She was a wild card, but I took a chance.
Never again.

 


 


C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn’t always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.

She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.

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February 15 2016

I Hear…Love Cover Reveal @AnnalisaNicole4 @MTWPromotions

I Hear…Love
Series: A Different Road #2
Author: Annalisa Nicole

Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Coming: February 29, 2016

Kate Mason at twenty-three, feels as though she has lived through enough sorrow and pain to fill generations of lifetimes. On the outside, she wears a beautiful mask. On the inside, she’s a million, jagged, broken pieces. She blames herself, not only for her parent’s death, but for her brother’s blindness.

For Kate there is no hope of silencing the chaos in her head. There is no forgiveness for what she has done to her family, or herself. There will never be anyone to love her and her shattered past.

Cooper Sullivan recently moved to Malibu and was immediately adopted by a stray black lab he named Sadie. Cooper soon realizes there is something very special about Sadie when she is drawn to a beautiful woman, with a kaleidoscope of emotions that churn deep in her eyes.

Cooper sees Kate’s broken pieces scattered all around her, but he finds himself wanting to show her just how beautiful each piece is. Underneath her mask, he sees an even more beautiful woman, and he wants to help her put the broken pieces back together.

When you are broken you can never be fully put back together. There are always tiny slivers here and there that can never be replaced.

Can Kate finally silence the noise enough to forgive herself and hear the one thing she desires most?

Can one truly hear…love?

I’m an “Indie” Adult Contemporary Romance author. A thought occurred to me in December of 2012 that maybe I could write a romance novel. So, I went to work with the encouragement of my husband and my sister-in-law.

It didn’t take long to figure out that I really enjoy writing. I published my debut novel Take A Chance in October of 2013.

I’ve been married to my wonderful husband since 1996, and I love being a stay-at-home mom to our two teenage boys. I was born and raised in Michigan, but currently live in sunny California.

I’m a self-published author, and it’s been an amazing, crazy, wonderful journey.

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January 28 2016

Bound to Fate Release Release Day Blitz @KiruTaye @MTWPromotions

Bound to Fate
Series: Bound #1
Author: Kiru Taye

Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: January 28, 2016

Lara Johnson is coping with the emotional scars of losing both parents in a tragic incident and facing the challenges of starting a new school. Getting involved in a relationship isn’t on her priority list. Certainly not this illicit desire for a man, who demands the best from her, yet leaves her breathless in his presence.

All Ike Thomas wants to do is to keep out of trouble and get through the one year internship required for his degree program. But trouble finds him, in the form of an intelligent and brave girl who turns his world upside down. Falling in love is forbidden. So why does it feel so right?

A love like theirs cannot be denied. But catastrophe lies in wait and one night changes their lives forever.

Bound to Fate is a story about surviving tragedy, forgiveness, and the overwhelming love that pulls through against the odds.

Content warning: This book contains scenes that might be triggering for some readers.



Bound to Fate Excerpt © Kiru Taye 2016

Lara stood in the middle undoing her shirt, her fingers working buttons through each hole in a slow, methodical manner.
Ike stilled at the
threshold, hesitant to cross the invisible line both physically and mentally. Compelled, he couldn’t look away, each of her actions mesmerising. She removed her shirt, tossing it on the bed, revealing the sexy black balconette bra. Moving her hands to her back, she undid the zip to her skirt.
The sound had his heart rate escalating, the rush of blood thundering in his ears.
He’d seen her bare skin before although he’d never seen her fully naked. He shouldn’t be looking at her. Any decent man would’ve turned his back to her or even returned to the living room. He did neither.
Her skirt slid down her hips, past a black lace thong that presented her bum cheeks to him as she leaned over to pull the skirt from her legs.
All the blood in his body rushed south and his dick hardened. Painfully.
She straightened and turned around. He’d never seen her this bare before. His breath caught. She was beautiful. Slimmer than he remembered, but still beautiful.
“You’re still here,” she said as she walked over to the wardrobe.
Her tone had held no surprise. In fact, the corner of her mouth was curled in a teasing smile as if she’d know he was watching her all along.
His cheeks heated. A lump lodged in his throat so he coughed. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t look away.”
“I don’t mind. I like you watching me.” She pushed the left bra strap down her arm, then repeated the action with the right one. Then she reached behind and unclipped it. It hung loose down her arms and midriff, revealing full, firm breasts, areoles like discs and nipples as hard as bullets.
“You do?” He made a conscious effort to look away from temptation before him, up to her face.
“Yes.” She flung the bra over a chair and hooked her thumbs into the tiny straps of her thong. “I think you’re a very sexy man. I’ve always thought so. Always wanted you.”
She slipped the thong down her legs and flung it aside, too.
“You have…” He lost his train of thought as he stared at her naked body. As if he wasn’t painfully hard before. He swelled again.
He met her gaze again. No shyness there. She wasn’t ashamed of her nakedness. She sat on the bed and pushed back until her head lay on the pillow. Then, her thighs fell apart, showing her glistening pussy.
“Can you see how much I want you?” she said in a low voice.

Kiru is the award winning author of His Treasure. She writes sensual and passionate multicultural romance stories set mostly in Africa. When she’s not writing you can find her either immersed in a good book or catching up with friends and family. She currently lives in the South of England with her husband and three children.
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January 21 2016

Assassin’s Kiss Blog Tour @sharonkaynovels @MTWPromotions

Assassin’s Kiss
Series: Watcher’s Kiss #2
Author: Sharon Kay

Genre: Adult, PNR Romance
Published: January 12, 2016

Locking emotions away is how Scorpio survived years as a conscripted killer. Now, as a Lash Watcher, he uses the same lethal skills to help his fellow warrior demons maintain peace in the realms. When a mission goes awry, he finds himself a thousand miles from home with no weapons or comms. Injured and alone, he is taken in by a group of witches who know him well.

And want him dead.

Tessa’s affinity with metal makes her one of the most powerful witches in her coven. Her deepest wish is to stop the oppression of her people—a direct result of her former leader’s murder. She agrees to marry the chief of a rival coven, knowing it won’t be a love match. But she abandoned the idea of a soul-deep bond long ago. Especially one with the rough, former mercenary warrior who shows up and claims she belongs to him.

Even from behind bars, the longer Scorpio stays, the more he unsettles Tessa and she questions all she thought she knew. Choosing him will put everyone she cares for at risk. He’s nothing like she expected, and the last thing she could dare to want.



Assassin’s Kiss Excerpt © Sharon Kay 2015
They reached the forest floor, and Scorpio crouched to allow Tessa’s feet to reach the ground. “Made it,” he said.
Solid ground met her feet and logically she knew she could let go. But it was all too much. Shudders raced along her arms as she loosened her lock on his neck and her legs went ragdoll-limp. “Catch me?” She slid backward.
He spun blessedly fast and scooped her into a cradle hold against his torso. “I got you,” he whispered.
She sighed and curled into him, still too shaky to process anything. He walked away from the trunk and she wondered idly if he planned to carry her all the way home, but he stopped at a different tree and lowered them both to the soft grass. Tension leached out of her muscles as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shielding her and soothing her with a tenderness she could never have anticipated.
“I got you,” he repeated, stroking her hair. “It’s over. I don’t detect any more wolves.”
She raised her head to look around, but all she saw were trees. She realized he had positioned them to not see any wolf bodies. “Thank goodness.” Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the strong steady thump of his heart and breathed in the clean scent of him, now tinged with the smoke of his demonfire. Thank the gods he’d been here today. What if it had just been her and Zeebi?
They’d both be dead. She shuddered.
His hand was warm on her arm, and his other was draped across her legs, holding the back of one knee. She studied them, noting several tiny scars, evidence of a life lived harshly, and also seeing the strength that could snap a neck. The push-pull tugged at her heart.
Those hands had ended hundreds of lives.
Those hands had just saved hers. Again.
How was this possible? He held her as though she were a priceless jewel.
Tessa tilted her head to look up at him. She had never noticed how long his eyelashes were. Stubble dusted his square jaw, and she wondered again at the mix of color in his hair.
He met her gaze, those incredible golden eyes simmering with a hotly sensual light. She knew about Lash demons, that their eyes gleamed when in battle, or when experiencing strong emotions. Including lust.
Something pulsed in the air between them, and slowly she reached a finger up to trace the line of his jaw. Rough, warm, stubble-dotted skin met the pad of her finger. He sucked in a breath and released it just as slowly, his lungs shuddering beneath her torso. “I…” she whispered. “I don’t know what to think around you.”
He caught her fingers and held them in his. “Yes, you do.” His tone was soft and coaxing. “You said it before. You know I will never hurt you. And I will never leave you alone and unprotected.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, one by one.
Her heart stopped again at the softness of his kisses. If she had been confused before, she was officially over the cliff now. No idea which way was up. Heat from his mouth warmed her, shooting up her arm like fire. Nothing about this man said soulless murderer.
She tugged her hand away, unable to take any more of the sensation, the devastating preciousness he lavished on her. Her mind was already starting to imagine those warm lips on hers, and that brought her up short. She couldn’t go there. The thought terrified her as much as it seemed like the absolute best idea in the world right now. But she curled her hand into his T-shirt anyway, wanting to stay pressed close to him.
Why? His kisses pushed her off kilter, but she had no desire to leave the safety of his hold. Physical contact with him registered with the same importance as breathing. Her limbs wouldn’t obey even if she’d wanted to. Something had shifted deep inside, something she couldn’t hope to explain. It should scare her. It should…but instead her mind was filled with wonder, curiosity, and temptation.

Sharon Kay writes award-winning fiction and can never get enough reading time. She loves winter and black coffee, and is endlessly inspired to write kick-ass heroines and the men strong enough to capture their hearts.

Sharon lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son, and one weekend the idea for her Lash Watchers and tough leading ladies formed in her head, refusing to stay quiet until she put pen to paper. Her characters tend to keep her up at night, as they banter, fall in love, and slay endless varieties of power-hungry demons.

Sign up for Sharon’s newsletter to keep up with her demons, see early cover reveals and be entered in periodic giveaways.

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