A Thousand Letters by Staci Hart

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“Lyrical, heartbreaking, and emotionally intense, A THOUSAND LETTERS is a beautiful portrait of an undying love that deserves a second chance.”

Melanie Harlow, USA Today Bestselling Author

A Thousand Letters, an all-new emotional standalone by Staci Hart is LIVE!!!

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Sometimes your life is split by a single decision.

I’ve spent every day of the last seven years regretting mine: he left, and I didn’t follow. A thousand letters went unanswered, my words like petals in the wind, spinning away into nothing, taking me with them.

But now he’s back.

I barely recognize the man he’s become, but I can still see a glimmer of the boy who asked me to be his forever, the boy I walked away from when I was young and afraid.

Maybe if he’d come home under better circumstances, he could speak to me without anger in his voice. Maybe if I’d said yes all those years ago, he’d look at me without the weight of rejection in his eyes. Maybe if things were different, we would have had a chance.

One regretted decision sent him away. One painful journey bought him back to me. I only wish I could keep him.

*A contemporary romance inspired by Jane Austen’s Persuasion*

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Read Today:

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2lc28DN

Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/x7nolo

Add to Goodreads: https://goo.gl/SORJXP

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About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

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Connect with the Author:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Newsletter: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

It’s finally here! Redemption is LIVE!

 

Title: Redemption
Series: Golden Beach #4
Author: Kim Loraine
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult
Release Date: February 8, 2017
Blurb

Sparks may fly in the bedroom, but fire always brings destruction.Golden Beach firefighter, Lieutenant Michael Oliver, has everything he wants — a beautiful wife, a job he loves, and a future that finally looks bright after years of darkness. Until one day a surprise from his past shows up, throwing everything he’d finally recovered from back in his face.

Lena Shirakawa married the man of her dreams in an impulsive Vegas wedding. As a free-spirited and highly sought-after travel photographer, being the wife of a firefighter who wants her to settle down isn’t easy. Especially when her job takes her all over the world for months at a time.

When Lena’s deep-rooted fears take hold, the damage is done and divorce seems the only option. But Michael won’t give up, even if it means risking everything to keep her.

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt

Lena Shirakawa swayed in her spot as the unseasonably warm October sun beat down against them. She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and waited for the models to get into position.She heard them as they approached, filling the quiet beach with rowdy banter. Twelve drop-dead gorgeous firefighters from different stations across the Virginia coast filed into the partitioned section of sand and surf. Her heart raced at the sight of the men in uniform—chiseled, well muscled, and confident.

“Where do you want them?”

Lena snapped her mouth closed as her assistant waved a handkerchief in her face.

“I wasn’t drooling,” she told Hallie, aware of the indignant tone in her voice.

“It’s for your forehead. You’re sweating … but now that you mention it—”

“Shut it, Hal.”

Hallie laughed as she gathered a reflector and started her stroll toward the group.

“Can you line them up by month? I want a few shots of all of them and then we’ll go down the line, January through December.”

“Any particular poses?”

Lena shook her head and snickered as her gaze fell to the table of props. A few axes, a coiled fire hose, rope, chains, and a bottle of baby oil covered the surface of the table. This was going to be fun. She counted the men as Hallie lined them up and stopped short at eleven.

“Hal? There’s one missing. And where’s my truck? I was told we’d have a truck and that I’d get real flames to work with.”

Hallie nodded. “The truck is on the way, along with Mr. December . . . Michael Oliver.” She nodded to the pile of driftwood stacked about twenty yards down the beach. “There’s your fire.”

Lena cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “I trained you right, didn’t I?”

Hallie chuckled and continued positioning firefighters which turned out to be more difficult than it seemed. They were loud, boisterous, and Lena couldn’t stop herself from snapping candid shots as they teased and flirted with her assistant.

Six of the men were from Station 31, Golden Beach’s local firehouse. She knew most of them by reputation alone, and one due to a mistake she’d made a year earlier.

“Okay, fellas. Line up. Backs to the waves, if you please. Let’s go ahead and get your shirts off.” Hallie directed them without batting an eye and Lena just stood back and watched.

She started plotting the next few hours in her head, planning for the best poses, but lost her focus as bare chests, tattoos, and washboard abdominals came into view.

Stop it. You are a professional. Ogling is not okay.

She snatched the bottle of baby oil and tossed it at Hallie with a wink.

“Glistening,” Lena instructed.

“Some days this job sucks. Today is not one of them.”

As Hallie offered oil to each of the guys, Lena turned her back, organizing her thoughts and planning the shoot. The waves crashed behind them, and the sun hung low in the sky. All she needed was the damn fire truck and Mr. December.

The sound of a siren broke through the chatter. Engine 31 rolled down the beach, lights flashing, and Lena rolled her eyes.

Michael parked the truck and jumped down from the driver’s seat, a wide grin on his perfect face.

“Damn. That man is beautiful.” Hallie’s breathy whisper echoed Lena’s own feelings. He was beautiful. Pouty lips, a chiseled jawline, gentle eyes graced with soft laugh lines. She knew what those lips felt like . . . everywhere.

“Physical perfection. Too bad he’s only pretty on the outside,” Lena muttered.

“I don’t know. Might be worth it.”

Lena offered a light shrug and walked over to inspect the truck.

“Freshly waxed just for you.” Michael’s deep baritone drew a layer of arousal over her body.

“Good. You’re late,” she snapped.

“You’re welcome.”

She eyed him, trying to get past the jaw-dropping good looks and focus on the reason she was here—a calendar for charity.

“Shirt off, please,” she ordered. “Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

That had been a bad choice. He stripped off his thin, blue t-shirt and tossed it at her. It smelled of leather and something spicy. She had to force herself not to bring the fabric to her nose and inhale deeply.

“Do I get your stamp of approval?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her as he flexed his chest.

She had to clear her throat before she could get her voice to cooperate, then she shrugged.

“You’ll do,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked away, gripping her camera tightly and trying to control the shaking of her fingers.

After a few deep, calming breaths, she got past the sparks of attraction she felt for Michael, and the shoot fell into place. At the end of the night all that remained were the embers of the bonfire and three firefighters, including Michael. They sat around the dying fire, talking and watching the waves.

“Should we leave?” Hallie asked under her breath.

Lena shrugged as she continued packing up. Donovan Miller, the newest firefighter at the station, had already taken the truck and borrowed props back to the firehouse. All that was left to do was make sure the flames were extinguished and load the table in the back of her van.

She tipped the table on its back and started collapsing the legs while Hallie carted a bag up the path to the parking lot. Struggling to gain traction in the sand, Lena lifted the long rectangle at one end and began to pull.

“Let me help you with that, princess.” Michael’s voice sent warm tingles down her spine.

He grabbed the other end of the table and lifted it with ease, grinning as he followed her lead and they made their way to the waiting van.

Hallie snickered and cast her a knowing glance as she passed the pair on her way back to the beach. “I’ll get the boys to help me put out the fire. You don’t need to hang around on my account, L.”

She could practically feel his broad smile behind her and she shook her head, fighting a laugh.

The idea of a night or two tangled in the sheets with a gorgeous man sounded exactly like what she needed. Unfortunately for Michael, she wasn’t willing to give him the satisfaction of adding her notch to his bedpost—again.

As he helped her load the table he brushed his fingers along the exposed skin of her shoulder. She fought off an involuntary shiver, pushing the door closed and turning to face him.

“So, are we doing this?” His tone was confident as he closed the distance between their bodies—his hips touching hers.

A wave of need crested over her. It was all she could do to wait for it to recede.

“Not tonight.” She could barely manage a whisper.

His lips turned down in a playful pout but instead of backing away, he pressed closer, one hand on either side of her face.

“That’s not a never.”

Also Available

AMAZON US / UK
AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

Author Bio

Kim Loraine is the author of the “Golden Beach” series, including “Restoration” (2015) and “Renovation” (2015). She started writing at a young age, scribbling down song lyrics, short stories, and poems she was too afraid to share with anyone. Busy working as a music teacher in her Pacific Northwest hometown, it wasn’t until her family of four picked up everything and moved to beautiful Japan that she decided to finally take the plunge and send her characters out into the world.The central theme in Kim’s books is self-discovery, whether that is found through taking risks, breaking down walls, or admitting mistakes. Kim likes to write characters that seem like someone you actually know, who find that life is a journey not without its challenges.

When not writing Kim spends her time with her husband, chasing around their crazy kids, exploring Japan, and binge-watching Doctor Who on Netflix.
Author Links
Giveaway

COVER REVEAL: A THOUSAND LETTERS BY STACI HART

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Cover Reveal

A Thousand Letters by Staci Hart

Cover Reveal Date: January 23rd, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

A Thousand Letters by Staci Hart is coming February 9th!!!

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Sometimes your life is split by a single decision.

I’ve spent every day of the last seven years regretting mine: he left, and I didn’t follow. A thousand letters went unanswered, my words like petals in the wind, spinning away into nothing, taking me with them.

But now he’s back.

I barely recognize the man he’s become, but I can still see a glimmer of the boy who asked me to be his forever, the boy I walked away from when I was young and afraid.

Maybe if he’d come home under better circumstances, he could speak to me without anger in his voice. Maybe if I’d said yes all those years ago, he’d look at me without the weight of rejection in his eyes. Maybe if things were different, we would have had a chance.

One regretted decision sent him away. One painful journey bought him back to me. I only wish I could keep him.

*A contemporary romance inspired by Jane Austen’s Persuasion*

Add to Goodreads: https://goo.gl/SORJXP

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About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

stacihartauthorpic

Connect with the Author:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Newsletter: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

REDEMPTION COVER REVEAL

 

 

Title: Redemption
Series: Golden Beach #4
Author: Kim Loraine
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult
Cover Design: Ramona Lockwood
Release Date: February 8, 2017
Blurb

Sparks may fly in the bedroom, but fire always brings destruction.Golden Beach firefighter, Lieutenant Michael Oliver, has everything he wants — a beautiful wife, a job he loves, and a future that finally looks bright after years of darkness. Until one day a surprise from his past shows up, throwing everything he’d finally recovered from back in his face.

Lena Shirakawa married the man of her dreams in an impulsive Vegas wedding. As a free-spirited and highly sought-after travel photographer, being the wife of a firefighter who wants her to settle down isn’t easy. Especially when her job takes her all over the world for months at a time.

When Lena’s deep-rooted fears take hold, the damage is done and divorce seems the only option. But Michael won’t give up, even if it means risking everything to keep her.

 

Excerpt

 

Lena Shirakawa swayed in her spot as the unseasonably warm October sun beat down against them. She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and waited for the models to get into position.She heard them as they approached, filling the quiet beach with rowdy banter. Twelve drop-dead gorgeous firefighters from different stations across the Virginia coast filed into the partitioned section of sand and surf. Her heart raced at the sight of the men in uniform—chiseled, well muscled, and confident.

“Where do you want them?”

Lena snapped her mouth closed as her assistant waved a handkerchief in her face.

“I wasn’t drooling,” she told Hallie, aware of the indignant tone in her voice.

“It’s for your forehead. You’re sweating … but now that you mention it—”

“Shut it, Hal.”

Hallie laughed as she gathered a reflector and started her stroll toward the group.

“Can you line them up by month? I want a few shots of all of them and then we’ll go down the line, January through December.”

“Any particular poses?”

Lena shook her head and snickered as her gaze fell to the table of props. A few axes, a coiled fire hose, rope, chains, and a bottle of baby oil covered the surface of the table. This was going to be fun. She counted the men as Hallie lined them up and stopped short at eleven.

“Hal? There’s one missing. And where’s my truck? I was told we’d have a truck and that I’d get real flames to work with.”

Hallie nodded. “The truck is on the way, along with Mr. December . . . Michael Oliver.” She nodded to the pile of driftwood stacked about twenty yards down the beach. “There’s your fire.”

Lena cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “I trained you right, didn’t I?”

Hallie chuckled and continued positioning firefighters which turned out to be more difficult than it seemed. They were loud, boisterous, and Lena couldn’t stop herself from snapping candid shots as they teased and flirted with her assistant.

Six of the men were from Station 31, Golden Beach’s local firehouse. She knew most of them by reputation alone, and one due to a mistake she’d made a year earlier.

“Okay, fellas. Line up. Backs to the waves, if you please. Let’s go ahead and get your shirts off.” Hallie directed them without batting an eye and Lena just stood back and watched.

She started plotting the next few hours in her head, planning for the best poses, but lost her focus as bare chests, tattoos, and washboard abdominals came into view.

Stop it. You are a professional. Ogling is not okay.

She snatched the bottle of baby oil and tossed it at Hallie with a wink.

“Glistening,” Lena instructed.

“Some days this job sucks. Today is not one of them.”

As Hallie offered oil to each of the guys, Lena turned her back, organizing her thoughts and planning the shoot. The waves crashed behind them, and the sun hung low in the sky. All she needed was the damn fire truck and Mr. December.

The sound of a siren broke through the chatter. Engine 31 rolled down the beach, lights flashing, and Lena rolled her eyes.

Michael parked the truck and jumped down from the driver’s seat, a wide grin on his perfect face.

“Damn. That man is beautiful.” Hallie’s breathy whisper echoed Lena’s own feelings. He was beautiful. Pouty lips, a chiseled jawline, gentle eyes graced with soft laugh lines. She knew what those lips felt like . . . everywhere.

“Physical perfection. Too bad he’s only pretty on the outside,” Lena muttered.

“I don’t know. Might be worth it.”

Lena offered a light shrug and walked over to inspect the truck.

“Freshly waxed just for you.” Michael’s deep baritone drew a layer of arousal over her body.

“Good. You’re late,” she snapped.

“You’re welcome.”

She eyed him, trying to get past the jaw-dropping good looks and focus on the reason she was here—a calendar for charity.

“Shirt off, please,” she ordered. “Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

That had been a bad choice. He stripped off his thin, blue t-shirt and tossed it at her. It smelled of leather and something spicy. She had to force herself not to bring the fabric to her nose and inhale deeply.

“Do I get your stamp of approval?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at her as he flexed his chest.

She had to clear her throat before she could get her voice to cooperate, then she shrugged.

“You’ll do,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked away, gripping her camera tightly and trying to control the shaking of her fingers.

After a few deep, calming breaths, she got past the sparks of attraction she felt for Michael, and the shoot fell into place. At the end of the night all that remained were the embers of the bonfire and three firefighters, including Michael. They sat around the dying fire, talking and watching the waves.

“Should we leave?” Hallie asked under her breath.

Lena shrugged as she continued packing up. Donovan Miller, the newest firefighter at the station, had already taken the truck and borrowed props back to the firehouse. All that was left to do was make sure the flames were extinguished and load the table in the back of her van.

She tipped the table on its back and started collapsing the legs while Hallie carted a bag up the path to the parking lot. Struggling to gain traction in the sand, Lena lifted the long rectangle at one end and began to pull.

“Let me help you with that, princess.” Michael’s voice sent warm tingles down her spine.

He grabbed the other end of the table and lifted it with ease, grinning as he followed her lead and they made their way to the waiting van.

Hallie snickered and cast her a knowing glance as she passed the pair on her way back to the beach. “I’ll get the boys to help me put out the fire. You don’t need to hang around on my account, L.”

She could practically feel his broad smile behind her and she shook her head, fighting a laugh.

The idea of a night or two tangled in the sheets with a gorgeous man sounded exactly like what she needed. Unfortunately for Michael, she wasn’t willing to give him the satisfaction of adding her notch to his bedpost—again.

As he helped her load the table he brushed his fingers along the exposed skin of her shoulder. She fought off an involuntary shiver, pushing the door closed and turning to face him.

“So, are we doing this?” His tone was confident as he closed the distance between their bodies—his hips touching hers.

A wave of need crested over her. It was all she could do to wait for it to recede.

“Not tonight.” She could barely manage a whisper.

His lips turned down in a playful pout but instead of backing away, he pressed closer, one hand on either side of her face.

“That’s not a never.”

 

Also Available

 

AMAZON US / UK

 

AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

 

 

AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

 

AMAZON US / UK

AUDIOBOOK

Author Bio

 

 

Kim Loraine is the author of the “Golden Beach” series, including “Restoration” (2015) and “Renovation” (2015). She started writing at a young age, scribbling down song lyrics, short stories, and poems she was too afraid to share with anyone. Busy working as a music teacher in her Pacific Northwest hometown, it wasn’t until her family of four picked up everything and moved to beautiful Japan that she decided to finally take the plunge and send her characters out into the world.The central theme in Kim’s books is self-discovery, whether that is found through taking risks, breaking down walls, or admitting mistakes. Kim likes to write characters that seem like someone you actually know, who find that life is a journey not without its challenges.

When not writing Kim spends her time with her husband, chasing around their crazy kids, exploring Japan, and binge-watching Doctor Who on Netflix.

 

Author Links
Giveaway

Review: Dear Life by Meghan Quinn

dearlifewhitecoverkindleDear Life by Meghan Quinn
Publication Date: January 5th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

Four lives. Four stories. Four sets of letters. Four brave souls in need of guidance while facing life’s greatest challenges.

The anonymously published Dear Life program is designed to help them step outside of their comfort zones, face their obstacles, and relinquish their demons…and prove their existence.

With their lives teetering between wanting more and losing it all, all four souls dive into the program as a New Year’s resolution, sending them on a crazy, life-altering journey.

Dear Life,

Please be kind.

Yours truly, Hollyn, Jace, Daisy, and Carter.

REVIEW

There’s nothing I love more than a book that starts with characters on their own journeys and connects them all in some way. In Dear Life, Meghan Quinn weaves four tales, some absolutely gut-wrenching, others frustrating, and all completely relatable. I have to admit, I went into this book blind, and was confused at first, but after one chapter, I was hooked. I read this in a day, unable to put it down.

Beautifully written, Dear Life made me laugh, cry, and in the end, smile.

dearlifewhitecover

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Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2hnwsxp

Purchase Links:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2hPvSsU
Amazon UK: http://tinyurl.com/jlqyohr

About the Author:


A BLONDE AT HEART

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Connect with Meghan:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/meghanquinnauthor
Instagram: authormeghanquinn
Website: http://www.authormeghanquinn.com/

 

 

 

 

 

BLOG TOUR: CD Reiss Separation Games

Separation Games
by CD Reiss

Series: The Games Duet # 2
Release Date: January 3, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotic Romance

“CD Reiss writes the best erotica I have ever read.”

Meredith Wild, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Hacker Series

Synopsis:

The stunning conclusion to the New York Times Bestseller.

There’s one, unbreakable rule in the game.

Stay collected. Compartmentalize. Think your next move through. Never let your heart dictate your tactics.

The heart is impulsive.

The heart makes bad decisions.

The heart doesn’t see the long game.

Because the heart may have decided to get Adam back, but when the endgame comes, the heart’s going to be the first thing to break.

Separation Games

Amazon US ➜ http://amzn.to/2iwPkqo

Amazon UK https://goo.gl/q4NBKh

Nook ➜ http://bit.ly/SeparationGamesNook

iBooks ➜ http://bit.ly/SeparationGamesiBooks

Kobo http://bit.ly/SeparationGamesKobo

Paperback http://amzn.to/2hhllBT

Begin the Games Duet with Marriage Games

Available now!

Amazon US ➜ http://amzn.to/2iaZ5xG

Amazon UK➜: https://goo.gl/1LhJZW

Nook ➜ http://bit.ly/MarriageGamesNook

iBooks ➜ http://bit.ly/MarriageGamesiBooks

Kobo ➜ http://bit.ly/MarriageGamesKobo

Paperback http://amzn.to/2i8ivRu

Add to Goodreads

http://bit.ly/2huFeab

Excerpt

He took my hand, putting it in his lap as if it was finally home. “What are we doing?” he asked.

“Screwing up.”

“Like it’s our job.”

“If you’re going to do something, I say, do it all the way.”

He squeezed my hand. I was jarred by the way he looked in the direction of the window, but not through it. He didn’t look like the commanding Dominant who had been my partner for the past few weeks. As handsome as ever, and graceful and sharp, a leader and a decider, but not the same.

He faced me. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

The streetlights glinted off the light in one eye and his jaw locked, catching things he’d never say. He looked like a man I knew and abandoned. Manhattan Adam.

“We can’t fix it,” I said, putting his hand in my lap, watching our clasped hands make a new form. I rubbed the outside of his thumb with mine, feeling it’s familiar shape, the strength of the knuckle and the texture of his skin on mine. “We have to build something new. And we can.” I looked up from our hands to his face.

Could I make him feel my optimism? Could I take a piece of it onto a fork and lift it to his lips? Would they part? Would he let me lay it on his tongue? Would he chew and swallow, saying “I do. I do believe we can, I do.”

He didn’t say that. He didn’t believe, but his lips needed to touch my belief and his tongue needed to taste my hope.

I don’t know if I kissed him or if he kissed me, but it felt like a first kiss, with full quivering that left me paralyzed at his nearness. The act of two tongues tasting each other was so intimate between strangers, so taken for granted over time, and so rarely is the wonder of it felt through to the bone.

He was licorice. Fennel and leather. And he moved like cool water, reacting to my movements, countering with his hands and his mouth, covering me with his attention. The kiss was the sway of sex, the smell of it, the carnal desire without the promise of anything but another dance.

About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestselling author. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to chop a cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

Connect with the Author:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1IW7TQU

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CDReiss.writer/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/cdreisswriter

Instagram: https://instagram.com/cdreiss/

Website: www.cdreiss.com

Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/

Special Excerpt of Ego Maniac by Vi Keeland

egomanaic-banner

 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]

The night I met Drew Jagger, he’d just broken into my new Park Avenue office.
I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills.
He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing.

Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant.
Only, turned out, he wasn’t an intruder at all.

Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He’d been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.
Which was how a scammer got away with leasing me office space that wasn’t really available for rent.
I was swindled out of ten grand.

The next day, after hours at the police station, Drew took pity on me and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. In exchange for answering his phones while his secretary was out, he’d let me stay until I found a new place.
I probably should have acted grateful and kept my mouth shut when I overheard the advice he was spewing to his clients. But I couldn’t help giving him a piece of my mind.
I never expected my body to react every time we argued. Especially when that was all we seemed to be able to do.

The two of us were complete opposites. Drew was a bitter, angry, gorgeous-as-all-hell, destroyer of relationships. And my job was to help people save their marriages.
The only thing the two of us had in common was the space we were sharing.
And an attraction that was getting harder to deny by the day.

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Sometimes what you’re looking for comes when you’re not looking at all.

-Unknown

 



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DREW

I hate New Year’s Eve.

Two hours in traffic to make it not even the nine miles home from LaGuardia. It was after ten o’clock at night. Why weren’t all these people at a party by now? Whatever tension two weeks in Hawaii had relieved was already back to coiling tighter and tighter inside me as the town car inched its way uptown.

I tried not to think about all the work I was coming back to—the endless string of other people’s problems to compound my own:

She cheated.

He cheated.

Get me full custody of the kids.

She can’t have the house in Vail.

All she wants is my money.

She hasn’t given me a blowjob in three years. Listen, asshole, you’re fifty, bald, pompous, and shaped like an egg. She’s twenty-three, hot, and has tits so young they almost reach up to her chin. You want to fix this marriage? Come home with ten Gs in fresh, crisp bills, and tell her to get on her knees. You’ll get your blowjob. She’ll get her spending money. Let’s not pretend it was ever more than it really was. That doesn’t work for you? Unlike your soon-to-be ex-wife, I’ll take a check. Make that out to Drew M. Jagger, Attorney at Law.

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the back of the Uber, and looked out the window. An old lady with a walker passed us.

“I’ll get out here,” I barked at the driver.

“But you have luggage?”

I was already exiting the back of the car. “Pop the trunk. It’s not like we’re moving anyway.”

Traffic was at a dead stop, and it was only two blocks to my building. Tossing a hundred-dollar tip at the driver, I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and took in a deep breath of Manhattan.

I loved this city as much as I hated it.

575 Park Avenue was a restored pre-war on the southeast corner of Sixty-Third Street—it was an address that gave people preconceived notions about you. Someone with my last name had occupied the building since before the place was converted into overpriced co-ops. Which is why my office was allowed to remain on the ground floor when other commercial tenants were tossed out years ago. I also lived on the top floor.

“Welcome back, Mr. Jagger.” The uniformed doorman greeted me as he swung open the lobby door.

“Thanks, Ed. I miss anything while I was gone?”

“Nah. Same old, same old. Peeked in on your construction the other day, though. Looking good.”

“They use the service entrance down Sixty-Third like they were supposed to?”

Ed nodded. “Sure did. Barely heard them the last few days.”

I dropped my luggage inside my apartment, then headed back downstairs in the elevator to check things out. For the last two weeks, while I was screwing off in Honolulu, my office space had been getting a total renovation. Cracks in the high, plastered ceilings were to be patched and painted, and new floors installed to replace the old, worn parquet.

Thick plastic remained taped over all of the interior doorways when I walked in. The little furniture I hadn’t put in storage was also still covered with tarps. Shit. They aren’t done yet. The contractor had assured me there would only be finish work left by the time I returned. I was right to be skeptical.

Flicking on the lights, I was happy to find the lobby completely done, though. Finally, a New Year’s Eve with no horrible surprises for a change.

I took a quick look around, pleased with what I found, and was just about to leave when I noticed a light streaming from under the door of a small file room at the end of the hallway.

Thinking nothing of it, I headed to turn it off.

Now, I’m six foot two and a half, two hundred and five pounds, and maybe it was just my frame of mind, my not expecting to see anyone, but when I opened the door to the file room, finding her there scared the living crap out of me.

She screamed.

I took a step back through the door.

She got up, stood on the chair, and began yelling at me, waving her cell phone in the air.

“I’ll call the police!” Her fingers shook as she dialed nine, then one, and hovered over the last one. “Get out now, and I won’t call!”

I could have lunged for her, and the phone would have been out of her hand before she realized she hadn’t dialed the final digit. But she looked terrified, so I retreated another step and put my hands up in surrender.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I used my best soothing, calm voice. “You don’t need to call the police. This is my office.”

“Do I look stupid to you? You just broke into my office.”

Your office? I think you took a wrong turn at the corner of Crazy and Nutjob.”

She wobbled atop the chair, holding both arms out to regain her balance, and then…her skirt fell to her feet.

“Get out!” She crouched down and grabbed her skirt, tugging it up to her waist as she turned her back to me.

“Do you take medication, ma’am?”

Medication? Ma’am? Are you joking?”

“You know what?” I motioned to the phone she was still holding. “Why don’t you push that last one and get the police over here. They can drive you back to whatever loony bin you escaped from.”

Her eyes widened.

For a crazy person—now that I was really looking—she was pretty damn cute. Fiery red hair piled on top of her head seemed to match her firecracker personality. Although from the looks of her blazing blue eyes, I was glad I’d held off on telling her that.

She pushed one and proceeded to report the crime of entering one’s own office. “I’d like to report a robbery.”

“Robbery?” I arched an eyebrow and looked around. A lone folding chair and crappy metal folding table were the only furniture in the entire space. “What exactly am I stealing? Your winning personality?”

She amended her complaint to the police. “A breaking and entering. I’d like to report a breaking and entering at 575 Park Avenue.” She paused and listened. “No, I don’t think he’s armed. But he’s big. Really big. At least six feet. Maybe bigger.”

I smirked. “And strong. Don’t forget to tell them I’m strong, too. Want me to flex for you? And maybe you should tell them I have green eyes. Wouldn’t want the police to confuse me with all the other really big thieves hanging out in my office.”

After she hung up, she stayed standing on the chair, still glaring at me.

“Was there also a mouse?” I asked.

“A mouse?”

“Considering you jumped up on that chair.” I chuckled.

“You find this funny?”

“Oddly, I do. And I have no fucking idea why. It should annoy the crap out of me that I come home from a two-week vacation and find a squatter in my office.”

“Squatter? I’m no squatter. This is my office. I moved in a week ago.”

She bobbled again while standing on her chair.

“Why don’t you get down? You’re going to fall off that thing and get hurt.”

“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me when I get down?”

I shook my head and contained my laugh. “Sweetheart, look at the size of me. Look at the size of you. Standing on that chair isn’t doing jack shit to keep you safe. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be out cold on the floor already.”

“I take Krav Maga classes twice a week.”

“Twice a week? Really? Thanks for the warning.”

“You don’t have to ridicule me. Maybe I could hurt you. For an intruder, you’re really kind of rude, you know.”

“Get down.”

After a full minute stare-off, she climbed off the chair.

“See? You’re as safe on the ground as you were up there.”

“What do you want from here?”

“You didn’t call the police, did you? You almost had me there for a second.”

“I didn’t. But I can.”

“Now why would you go and do that? So they can arrest you for breaking and entering?”

She pointed down at her makeshift desk. For the first time, I noticed papers all over the place. “I told you. This is my office. I’m working late tonight because the construction crew was so loud today that I couldn’t get done what I needed to. Why would anyone break and enter to work at ten-thirty at night on New Year’s Eve?”

Construction crew? My construction crew? Something was going on here. “You were here with the construction crew today?”

“Yes.”

I scratched my chin, half believing her. “What’s the foreman’s name?”

“Tommy.”

Shit. She was telling the truth. Well, at least some of it had to be the truth. “You said you moved in a week ago?”

“That’s right.”

“And you rented the space from whom, exactly?”

“John Cougar.”

Both my brows shot up this time. “John Cougar? Did he drop the Mellencamp, by chance?”

“How should I know?”

This wasn’t sounding good. “And you paid this John Cougar?”

“Of course. That’s how renting an office suite works. Two months’ security, first and last month’s rent.”

I shut my eyes and shook my head. “Shit.”

“What?”

“You got conned. How much did all of that cost you? Two months’ security, first and last month? Four months in total?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Please tell me you didn’t pay cash.”

Something finally clicked, and the color drained from her pretty face. “He said his bank was closed in the evening, and he couldn’t give me the keys until my check cleared. If I gave him cash, I could move in right away.”

“You paid John Cougar forty thousand dollars in cash?”

“No!”

“Thank God.”

“I paid him ten thousand in cash.”

“I thought you said you paid four months.”

“I did. It was twenty-five hundred a month.”

That did it. Of all the crazy shit I’d heard so far, thinking she could get space on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month took the cake. I broke out in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re not from New York, are you?”

“No. I just moved here from Oklahoma. What does that have to do with anything?”

I took a step closer. “I hate to break the news to you, Oklahoma, but you got ripped off. This is my office. I’ve been here for three years. My father the thirty before that. I was on vacation the last two weeks and had the office remodeled while I was gone. Someone named after a singer scammed you into giving him cash to rent an office he had no right to rent. Doorman’s name is Ed. Walk through the main building entrance, and he’ll verify everything I just said.”

“That can’t be.”

“What do you do that you need office space?”

“I’m a psychologist.”

I held out my hand. “I’m an attorney. Let me see your contract.”

Her face fell. “He hasn’t brought it by yet. He said the landlord was in Brazil on vacation, and I could move in, and he would come back on the first to collect the rent and bring me the contract to sign.”

“You’ve been scammed.”

“But I paid him ten thousand dollars!”

“Which is another thing that should have tipped you off. You couldn’t rent a closet on Park Avenue for twenty-five hundred a month. Didn’t you find it strange that you were getting a place like this for next to nothing?”

“I thought I was getting a deal.”

I shook my head. “You got a deal alright. A raw deal.”

She covered her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

 

 

★★★★

 

We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!

 

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author-photoVi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Best Selling author. Over the last three years, eleven of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and four on the New York Times Bestseller lists.

In 2013, she released her first romance novel and never looked back. To date, she has thirteen novels released, with PLAYBOY PILOT also releasing in 2016. Her novels have appeared on #1 on Amazon and are currently being translated into German, Polish, Portuguese, Korean, Hebrew, French and Italian.

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Dear Life by Meghan Quinn

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Dear Life by Meghan Quinn
Publication Date: January 5th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Synopsis:

Four lives. Four stories. Four sets of letters. Four brave souls in need of guidance while facing life’s greatest challenges.

The anonymously published Dear Life program is designed to help them step outside of their comfort zones, face their obstacles, and relinquish their demons…and prove their existence.

With their lives teetering between wanting more and losing it all, all four souls dive into the program as a New Year’s resolution, sending them on a crazy, life-altering journey.

Dear Life,

Please be kind.

Yours truly, Hollyn, Jace, Daisy, and Carter.

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Purchase Links:


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FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

About the Author:

A BLONDE AT HEART

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

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Teaser Tuesday: Pucked Off by Helena Hunting

Pucked Off by Helena Hunting
Publication Date: February 21st, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

***A Standalone novel in The Pucked Series***

I’m NHL defenseman Lance Romero, AKA Lance “Romance.”

I’m notorious for parties and excess. I have the most penalty minutes in the league. I get into the most fights. I take the most hits. I’m a player on and off the ice. I’m the one women with no inhibitions want.

Not because I like the notoriety, but because I don’t know how to be any other way.

I have secrets. Ones I shared with the wrong person, and she used them against me. Sometimes she still does. I should cut ties. But she makes it difficult, because she’s the kind of bad I deserve.

At least that’s what I believed until someone from my past gets caught up in my present. She’s all the good things in this world. She lights up my dark.

I shouldn’t want her.

But I do.

I should leave her alone.

But I won’t.

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About the Author:

NYT and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena:

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting
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Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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