Thursday, June 30, 2016

Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Charade by Melissa McClone



Growing up in her twin sister's shadow, Claire O'Ryan has made a life for herself away from family and the Hollywood limelight. But when her sister's lies start spinning out of control and she finds herself in trouble, Claire and her former crush are forced to help out.

A-list actor Brady Simms enjoys playing a good part and pretending to be engaged to his childhood best friend, Claire, sounds like an interesting role. Planning a fake wedding happens all too easily. Acting like he's madly in love with the quiet, sweet librarian feels all too right. And her kisses...all too perfect. Will a game of make-believe turn into a real-life happily ever after?


Three long knocks sounded, followed by two short ones. It was the secret code they’d used at the tree house behind Brady’s house, where his parents still lived.
“Claire.” He sounded impatient.
She inhaled deeply and opened the door.
Sunglasses covered Brady’s killer baby blues but did nothing to mask his classically handsome features. A multicolored striped beanie hid his wavy brown hair, which curled at the ends. A navy, oversized hoodie disguised his to-die-for body. With his six-foot-plus height and athletic build, he could easily be mistaken for a professional athlete.
Definitely swoon-worthy.
She clutched the door handle.
It was a good thing she’d developed immunity to his good looks and charm. No more weak knees. Forget the drawn-out sighs. She’d left those behind with her crush. For her sake and her sister’s.
Brady stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and enveloped her in a bear hug. His trademark since he was fourteen and no longer embarrassed to touch girls. Although, she wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen her as a female, even back then. She’d been parked in the friend zone for so long her windshield was plastered with tickets. Yet, that hadn’t stopped her from trying to get him to notice her in high school. She’d been so hopeful back then.
Who was she kidding? She still was.
His scent—soap, shampoo, or aftershave?—surrounded Claire and made her want to inhale deeply to soak up the smell. She didn’t.
“It’s so good to see you.” Brady let go of her. Off came his sunglasses, hat, and jacket. He placed them on top of the small, wooden bookcase where she kept her purse and keys. “Sorry I didn’t call first. Nice PJs.”
Claire struck a silly tiger pose. “A birthday present to myself.”
“Not a book?”
“I gave myself one of those, too.”
Brady laughed. “Were you asleep?”
“Yes, and Thor’s not pleased. He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
“Sorry, dude,” Brady said to the cat.
Thor turned and gave a perfect view of his backside.
“I thought you were filming,” she said.
“Finished.” Glancing around, Brady shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You alone?”
Claire wanted to groan. Of course she was alone. She wanted nothing more than to fall in love; to open her heart and her life to someone special. So far, no luck.
“Only Thor and me.”
“You mentioned something about a date the last time we talked.”
He’d wanted to know how she was doing after losing her job. “Yes. Turns out he’s allergic to cats. Sneezing, eyes watering, and hives broke out when he entered the condo. Shortest first date ever.”
“That sucks.”
“Try, try again.” She motioned Brady into the living room. “So…”
He plopped onto her couch, a slipcovered loveseat she’d assembled herself. “How’s the job search going?”
Heat rushed up her neck. So many libraries had turned her down that Claire felt as if she were a new college graduate with zero work experience, but she wasn’t giving up. So what if her savings account was almost empty and the benefits from her severance package would end soon? The perfect job was out there somewhere. She would find it.
“I have a second interview on Friday for a great position. I’ve also been volunteering at a public library. I may have found a new calling.”
“What’s that?”
A ball of warmth formed in her chest. “Working in the children’s section.”
His gaze narrowed. “I thought rare books were your thing.”
“They are, but I forgot how much I enjoy story time.” Picturing the children from Friday’s session filled her with joy. “Seeing young faces light up as I read—their eyes full of excitement and anticipation—is so much fun. I remember why I fell in love with books when I was younger.”
“This really makes you happy.”
“So very happy. I feel like I can make a difference with these kids.” She shimmied her shoulders. “I’ve got big plans, too. I’m going to see if the library will let me start themed book clubs for various ages, and then I want to propose a theater and dance reading group for kids who learn better kinesthetically.”
“Wow. Fantastic ideas,” he said. “You sound so excited. Much better than I thought you’d be doing.”
“I have an occasional off moment, but I’m not going to let being unemployed bring me down.”
“The university was stupid to let you go.”
“I didn’t have enough seniority. Nothing anyone could do.” If she’d stayed in Los Angeles, she would still be employed. But she’d made the right decision to head north three years ago. Her new job had been a dream while it lasted, and the distance had solved her problem. She’d gotten over her crush. Brady was nothing more than a friend now. However, she’d created another problem by moving. She felt like an outsider in her family. “You didn’t come here to talk about my being laid off.”
Humor flashed in his eyes, followed by a sheepish grin. One he’d used for as long as she could remember. Knowing she could still read him filled her with a sense of relief.
“You’ve always been the smart one,” he said.
The three of them joked about how Cate got the beauty and Claire the brains. Being smart was great, but more than once, she’d wished they’d been identical twins instead of fraternal ones. Looking exactly like her sexy, gorgeous actress sister wouldn’t suck.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Claire wasn’t surprised. Her sister was a magnet for trouble, always had been. Claire and Brady had grown up trying to get Cate out of one jam after another. He had a knack for minimizing the damage. A good thing since Claire was no longer there to help, but she did what she could from afar.
Thor jumped onto the couch, and the cat bumped his head against Brady’s hand.
He rubbed Thor’s neck. “I hope you’ve been taking care of Claire.”
She wasn’t going to let Brady distract her by talking to her cat. “I’m waiting.”

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Under the Gun (The Granny Series Book 4) by Nancy Naigle and Kelsey Browning



When Hollywood A-listers swarm Bartell County for a celebrity funeral, Miss Lillian takes in a temporary houseguest. After all, Abby Ruth is away and her room is sitting empty. She’ll never be the wiser. But after the charming visitor leaves, Abby Ruth’s adored arsenal has also vamoosed.

Lil, Maggie, and Sera are in one hot mess trying to find the guns before Abby Ruth gets back. And when Abby Ruth divulges a heartbreaking secret, her friends are more determined than ever to catch the culprit themselves.

Only this time the gals have crossed the line into deeper, more dangerous territory than ever before. Will they recover Abby Ruth’s guns, or will they find themselves buried in a heap of trouble?

Chapter One

The six-shooter was pointed right at Sera, momentarily jolting her out of her sorrow.
Thank goodness it wasn’t a real gun, but a float-size wreath in the shape of a revolver, which might’ve looked right at home had she been back in California for the Rose Parade, rather than in Georgia with Lil and Maggie.
As Sera and her friends walked closer to the massive building looming in front of them, Holy Innocence Mausoleum looked anything but innocent today. A crowd was growing in the area surrounding the cannon-size handgun wreath. So lowbrow. Besides, hadn’t these people been taught never to point a gun? Even one made of flowers.
Sera lifted a handkerchief graced with tiny, hand-stitched hummingbirds on one corner to dab at a tear beneath her Miu Miu sunglasses. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
I hate that these terrible circumstances brought you back to us.” Maggie grabbed Sera’s hand. “But it’s good to see you.”
Lil tugged at the peplum of her yellow suit jacket. “Look at all these people. I’ve never seen so many Western hats in one place. She was obviously loved by many. Bless her heart.”
My goodness. Would you look at that wreath over there?” Maggie pointed toward a spray of all-white carnations with a fringed cowboy boot in the center. “Wish Abby Ruth was here to see this. She’d have loved it.”
Sera sniffed back a tear. “Only Abby Ruth would have expected that boot to be blazing red.”
Lil and Maggie both nodded, the tender thought lightening the heavy mood.
It’s odd not to have her here,” Sera said. Standing tall and strong, Abby Ruth was always the one anchoring their foursome. Instead, Sera’s husband, Marcus, made up the fourth today. Well, he would be once he parked the car and caught up to them.
More floral arrangements stood nearly eight-feet deep along each side of the mausoleum’s entrance, giving the otherwise cold, harsh facade an inappropriately festive look.
I know folks are trying to show their love and appreciation.” The words caught in Sera’s throat. “But she’d have hated the waste of all of these flowers. The money could’ve been spent on something that would help others.”
Even if they were cheap sunflowers and alstroemeria, with so many, the money adds up quickly,” Maggie agreed.
More than Summer Shoals raised at the last High on the Hog event,” Lil said with a quick tsk.
Easily, and they’ll all be wilting and dying before sunrise,” Sera said. One more dreary sign of death, which seemed to be the subtitle in every direction.
The tiny pillbox hat balancing atop Lil’s freshly dyed blue-blond curls—a combo not too many people could pull off—gave the matriarch of Summer Shoals a look of royalty. A thin man with a bad highlight job darted out in front of them and snapped pictures, clearly focused on Lil, who looked like a Hollywood A-lister today.
No pictures,” Sera said, waving the skinny guy away, a habit she fell back into so easily. “How are we supposed to mourn with these vultures all over the place? What was her family thinking with all this fanfare?” If she had to guess, they’d probably tipped off the paparazzi themselves.
Once the photographer moved on to another victim, Maggie said, “Everyone shows their love in a different way. Can’t really judge that, can we?”
Sera, Lil, and Maggie walked in lockstep. Three styles. Three sizes. But three women equally affected by today’s sad affair for their own reasons.
True friends.
Sera was thankful that Lil and the other girls hadn’t pitched a hissy fit and thrown her out on her fanny when they’d found out the truth about her life in California. During the time she lived with them here in Georgia, she’d omitted the tidbit that she was the wife of Marcus Johanneson, one of the most influential men in the Hollywood film industry. A triple threat, Marcus had been an actor first, then he began directing and producing his own movies. Only a few people had a résumé as impressive as his. He had the magic touch when it came to selecting blockbuster movies, and everyone who was anyone wanted to be considered for one of his projects.
There are so many people here.” Lil’s head swiveled right and left. “I think I saw Michael Douglas over there. Sera, tell me you’ve met him. Or even better, his daddy.”
We’ve met.” Although Sera had told herself she’d never keep anything from her friends again, elaborating on the fact that Michael and Kirk were much more than business acquaintances didn’t feel appropriate.
Lil touched her heart. “I do love those men. I swear, I think they could wake up my last working hormone.”
Maggie nudged her best friend. “Lil, we’re not that old.”
Lil’s eyebrows danced. “That might be true, because I do believe that I’d be tempted to rise from the dead if all these folks showed up at my funeral.”
Sera would’ve never expected anything less than a standing-room-only, Hollywood-style full house for Jessie Wyatt. Even in death. Jessie might’ve been one of the most famous movie stars of her time, but to Sera, she’d been a dear friend. Since the day they’d met on one of Marcus’s movie sets, Jessie had been Sera’s lifeline and advisor during the tumultuous tides of her marriage.
Sera wished Finn, could’ve made it for the funeral. She would’ve simply said, “Lil, Maggie, Abby Ruth, please meet my son.” Then they would’ve been so taken with his good looks and charm that they would’ve easily forgiven her. And it would’ve kept her from having to explain yet one more thing that she’d hidden from her friends.
She shook back her long hair, chasing away the nostalgia and past mistakes to focus on today.
Although the interment would be inside the mausoleum, the family had opted to have the service outside. Probably a good decision with this many people in attendance, and the May weather was perfect for it. The crowd of thousands mingled close to the building. The mourners’ muted wardrobes were occasionally punctuated by a bright spot of white and fringe. One that couldn’t be ignored, because an entire group of women were dressed up like Jessie, in all-white cowgirl costumes.
Mrs. Johanneson, excuse me.”
Sera turned to face another reporter with a cameraman hovering behind him. “Jessie starred in several of your husband’s films. Someone said that you two were very close. Could you comment?”
She sucked in a breath. “Jessie Wyatt was one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. She was not only a friend but also a mentor. I’ll miss her terribly.” She lowered her head after her statement. Once, she and Jessie had spent three weeks together when Marcus was shooting in the wilds of Zimbabwe. If anything could bring two women from different generations close together, it was sharing toiletries in the jungle. And Jessie had been generous with not only hard-to-attain supplies but also advice and encouragement. A gift that had changed Sera’s life in so many ways.
The excited reporter closed in on her again. “Wasn’t Jessie from Macon? Why did they decide to bury her here in Myrtle Knolls?”
Someone in her family can answer that. We’re here to honor the woman, not the location. No more questions, please. This is a difficult day for us all.” Sera raised her hand politely, and the reporter backed off. Automatically, she scanned the crowd for security. She’d learned to be sure she knew where help was in case the reporters got out of control. Happened all the time with Marcus.
Off to the far side of the funeral area, Teague Castro stood tall, wearing his Bartell County Sheriff uniform. His dark good looks and muscular build fit right in with this attractive Hollywood crowd. Myrtle Knolls wasn’t his jurisdiction, but that was the cool thing about small towns. The attitude of the residents was one of community and goodwill. Teague and his men were here to help keep things under control because it was the neighborly thing to do, something that would never happen in Hollywood.
Lil’s fingers dug into Sera’s hand. “Is that Luke Bryan?”
The reporter who’d still been hovering around must have heard Lil because he took off in Luke’s direction, waving over his shoulder for the cameraman to follow.
Whoomp-whoomp-whoomp. One look at the helicopter circling overheard told Sera the bottom-feeders who couldn’t score a press pass to the funeral weren’t letting that stop them. Paparazzi. Those fools would crash any event if they thought it would tantalize the public. The funeral location should’ve been kept under wraps, but with this many attendees and Jessie’s family’s propensity to blab, that had probably been unrealistic.
Sera and her little group finally made it close enough to get a glimpse of Jessie’s casket through the throng of family, fans, and A-listers, where a young preacher stood holding a leather folio.
The deceased has often been described as a force of nature,” he said, his gentle but strong voice calming the crowd to an eerie silence. “She will be sorely missed by many, including the NRA, which she supported generously throughout her lifetime.”
A smile touched the corner of Sera’s lips. She should’ve thought to introduce Abby Ruth and Jessie. Those two would’ve gotten along like a house on fire. Then again, together they might’ve set the house on fire.
On her left, Lil squeezed closer to her. The older woman looked like a tiny Vienna sausage among a tall package of frankfurters.
Sera tapped the huge man in front of Lil on the shoulder. “Mr. Hogan, would you mind giving us a bit more room?”
He pulled his massive arms into his body and smiled down at Lil, his bushy blond mustache twitching to one side. “You want to climb up on my shoulders?”
Lord have mercy,” she breathed, that little hat hanging on by a bobby pin. “No, thank you.”
Let me know if you change your mind.”
Lil gave him a vague, star-struck nod.
The huge tan man turned to the side and ushered all three of them in front of him. A front-row view.
If you’ll bow your heads and join me in blessing Jessie Wyatt’s soul so she may pass peacefully to the other side,” the preacher said. At the end of his prayer, multiple words rippled through the gathering.
Blessed Be.”
Finally, the crowd pulled back, and Lil and Maggie worked their way closer to the casket.
Before Sera could move to join them, a warm hand brushed the small of her back. Marcus. There was a time when he’d led her into a crowded room with that gesture and she’d felt as if she was the most special woman in the world. Today, she wasn’t sure what his touch made her feel.
Still, she smiled up at her husband—as handsome as ever with his lean build and million-dollar smile. He’d aged gracefully with sexy silver lacing his hairline now. Had she caused those grays? He’d have worried about her even though he’d left her alone to find her way. He was like that.
Did you get the car parked okay?” she asked him, her nerves insisting that she make small talk with her own husband. Her mind needed the break from the overwhelming sadness if only for a moment. “I thought you’d missed the service.”
Sorry it took me so long. Ran into Sylvester Stallone on the way back from the lot and stood by him while the preacher was talking.”
Of course he had, because Marcus Johanneson was a magnet for Hollywood types, and a slew of them had shown up today.
It was a beautiful ceremony.” He wrapped his arm around her. “How are you doing?”
She rested her head against his shoulder, needing his strength today. “It was lovely, made more so by how pretty it is here in Georgia.”
But nothing can compare to you,” he said, dropping a kiss into her hair.
Sera reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. Returning to her adopted state for Jessie’s funeral had been hard, but being back a few days, Sera knew this was where she belonged. Marcus seemed to want their marriage to return to the way it had been when they were newlyweds, before Finn came along, when she’d always been the one to mold to Marcus’s career, his life. Yet she yearned for her days back here in Summer Shoals, where she was simply Sera. No reputation. No money. No expectations.
Only Marcus wasn’t a part of that life, and she didn’t know if she could live here in the place she loved without the man she loved.
Georgia, and Summer Shoals in particular, has become one of my favorite places in the world,” she said with complete honesty. Saying the words aloud seemed to give them wings but left her shaky. She needed to be away from Marcus for a moment to get her head together. “I’m going to go pay Jessie my respects.”
Then let’s—”
Alone, please.”
He dropped her hand. She regretted hurting him. But she needed a little more time and space to work out how she planned to go forward with her life. And her relationship with Marcus was still a work in progress. Jessie’s death made it even clearer that a person’s time on this earth was limited. Each day needed to be cherished.
A crush of people had quickly separated Sera from Maggie and Lil. So Sera tried to slowly edge her way around and was captivated by the elaborate casket spray. The blanket of the tiniest perfect bluebonnets, with Indian paintbrush tickling stalks of red clover, resembled a Texas sunset. Jessie hadn’t ever lived in the Lone Star state, but most people considered her the perfect Texas cowgirl. Funny how a fictional role could change the whole world’s perception of a woman.
Not only had someone spent a fortune on the out-of-season Texas wildflowers, but they’d also integrated Jessie Wyatt’s signature Wild West outfit of white leather into the flowers. And right on top were her famous deerskin gauntlets with fringe of gold and stones that had once been rumored to be genuine sapphires, rubies, and diamonds.
Are they going to entomb her costume?” a woman next to Sera asked.
Sure looks that way,” someone else whispered.
But it’s a collector’s item—a representation of an important Hollywood icon. Seems like it would be better served in a museum somewhere.”
Sera couldn’t agree more. Especially the gauntlets, because although Jessie had owned several skirts and vests, only one pair of authentic gauntlets existed. One night over sangria at an after-party, Jessie had shared a secret with Sera. Those gauntlets were insanely valuable, given to Jessie by her husband as an anniversary present. Not that anyone else knew that. Rumors had been bandied about for a few years, but with some well-executed PR by Jessie’s agent, the gossip had eventually been written off as Hollywood lore.
The helicopter took another spin above, and camera lenses shimmered in the bright sunlight. Then more flashes and clicks came from beyond a private family mausoleum less than fifty feet away, just outside the funeral’s security perimeter. Entertainment rag reporters were wily and persistent.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one to spot the intruders, because several Bartell County deputies raced off toward the culprits.
One of Teague’s guys hollered, “Y’all need to get on out of here. This is a private event.”
Dude, this is a free country,” a so-called reporter yelled back. “Maybe I’m here visiting my grandma.”
With that camera equipment? What? Were you planning to take family portraits?”
Sera tried to suppress a smile, because truthfully, those country boys weren’t prepared for the likes of ruthless paparazzi. They had no remorse and no manners. And if a story put them in the position to make a buck, they didn’t care one bit who they hurt.

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Race of Love by Melissa McClone Excerpt



Harboring secrets has jeopardized Bree Winthrop's spot on the US Ski Team. She's lost her focus and drive to win. Her only hope to remain on the team is Riley "Ry" Guyette—the one man she doesn't trust. Bree must let go of the past if she wants to keep her dreams alive.
Ry knows what it's like to crash and burn after a ski accident sidelined him from competition two years ago. But his coach wants Ry to help a teammate regain her focus and competitive edge. Too bad he hasn't spoken to Bree in six years—six very long years.
Bree and Ry face a mountain of struggles. Will they be able to learn that forgiveness isn't the steepest slope they must conquer?


“I’ll make my final decision when I see how the cookies turn out.”
“You won’t be disappointed.”
Her gaze met his.
Awareness passed between them, strong and undeniable. The connection felt real, almost electric, and pulled him in.
She tilted her head, exposing her neck. All he could think about was leaving a trail of kisses from her collar to her lips.
Moisture filled Ry’s mouth. His pulse accelerated. The temperature in the condo rose twenty degrees. He took a step toward her, wanting to get closer, then stopped.
He moved back, went around the breakfast bar, and gathered the ingredients in the kitchen. Her scent—something citrusy—hung in the air. Every nerve ending seemed conscious of Bree, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, her adjusting the ice pack against her hip.
Yes, she was pretty. Hot, actually.
But her appearance shouldn’t matter.
He was used to being around gorgeous models—holding them, touching them, kissing them. All for the camera.
But this sudden connection with Bree?
The low ache might be familiar, but the longing in his chest wasn’t.

Friday, June 24, 2016

The Cinderella Princess (Royal Holiday Book 1) by Melissa McClone


Barnes & Noble

Thanks to a philandering father, ad exec Emily Rodgers knows happily ever after doesn’t exist. Relying on a man only leads to heartache. She takes care of herself, and work defines her life. But Emily soon finds herself in the hands of a real-life prince who defines the words charming and sexy. Not to mention reckless. If Prince Lucas doesn’t find a royal bride, Emily’s dream of being named a partner at the advertising firm will die.

Luc’s fun-loving ways have made him a magnet for scandal. His father gives Luc an ultimatum—find a wife on a reality TV show or be disowned. Rules require him to marry nobility, but after he meets the uptight American sent to find him find a princess bride, his search for Cinderella might be over. Too bad Emily wants nothing to do with him. Perhaps he can show her that fairytale endings can happen in real life…


Light hit Prince Lucas Alexander Leopold Casimir von Rexburg’s eyes like an unexpected camera flash. Spots appeared. A jagged pain zigzagged through his head. Covering his face with his hands, he swore.
“I only speak English, Your Highness,” an unfamiliar feminine voice said.
“Turn off the damn light,” Luc repeated in English.
“I can switch off the lamp, but it’s time to get up, sir.”
Each word hammered at his foggy, needs-more-sleep brain. He needed rest, not conversation. Darkness, not light.
“The paparazzi are downstairs,” she continued.
Damn. They’d found him. But he’d escaped the hoard with cameras before. This time would be no different.
“I’ll sleep for another hour or so, then I can leave through a service entrance.”
He’d partied late into the night in the hotel’s VIP lounge. He didn’t remember bringing a woman back to his hotel room, or if this was even his room. But why else would she be with him?
He rolled over and buried his face into a pillow. The darkness was a welcome relief. Now to return to sleep…
“You need to wake up.” The woman spoke with a sense of urgency. She’d dropped the sir, a breach of etiquette since he hadn’t given her permission. Unless he’d done so last night. “I can’t do this without you.”
She meant sex. He must be on familiar terms with her. A smile tugged at his lips. Waking up might not be so bad. He’d fall asleep faster after they’d finished.
He turned his head toward the sound of her voice. Blinked open his eyes. Cringed at the chainsaw slicing his brain in half. Squeezed his eyelids together.
That didn’t help.
Bloody hell, how much had he drunk?
“Wake up.”
She sounded annoyed, perhaps angry. Luc must have fallen asleep last night. Disappointed her. Steeling himself for the onslaught of pain, he opened his eyes. Somehow he managed not to cringe or moan.
“Forgive me, ma cherie.”
A blurry, unrecognizable figure dressed in black stood next to the bed. He blinked, until his vision sharpened. Straight, blonde hair fell to her shoulders in a stylish, practical cut. Attractive, possibly pretty if she stopped frowning and smiled.
“I did not mean to ignore you by sleeping the day away.” He ignored the woodpecker chipping at his brain. “Get undressed, come back to bed and I shall make it up to you. Ten-fold.”
Sharp green eyes—the color of the emeralds in his mother’s tiara—collided with his gaze. “The royal scepter appears to be in working order in spite of the amount of alcohol you drank.”
Royal scepter? He glanced down. A white sheet covered his naked body, but didn’t hide the fact that he was hard. Damn.
She wasn’t acting embarrassed so he wouldn’t, either.
“Not any alcohol. Champagne. The drink of royalty. And lovers,” Luc added for effect. “I can order a bottle of Bollinger if you’d like. Unless you’d prefer something else. Your wish is my command.”
The woman looked at him like he was a criminal, guilty of whatever crime she believed he’d committed. “I'm not a royal groupie.”
“Never thought you were.” A woman who wanted to seduce or be seduced by a prince would never button her shirt to her neck. This one was dressed for a business meeting or a funeral service. “Who are you?”
“Emily Rodgers.”
He didn’t know the name, but he’d heard names, hundreds of names, thousands of names. Ones he rarely remembered. Why should he care what she was called unless she planned on undressing and getting into his bed?

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Book Blast: Blood Debt by Jill Cooper

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000031_00001]The queen of the underworld has a new play toy and her name is Jessica Blood. Bad boy Duncan Jasper and passive healer Amanda Blood are on the run for their lives with a horde of demons on their tale. The queen of the underworld, Lourdes, wants Amanda to free Lourdes from her prison and it’s all on Duncan to keep this from happening. But Amanda’s soul is fractured and bleeding thanks to the torture she suffered at the hands of the high-level demon, Vaughn. Now a painful ritual is her soul’s only chance at survival. If Duncan fails, Jessica Blood may never be free from the chains that bind her to Lourdes. Demons swarm to their location and Jessica walks right into a trap they’ve set for her. But to cure her sister, Amanda will have to embrace the pain and welcome the beauty of death. All before they get ready to stand off against Lourdes and the demons of hell, coming to claim their souls. Hold onto your seats! Long-held family secrets and heartache are about to be revealed. Order on Amazon (Free on KU) Buy Blood Lust Book 1 Amazon


About the Author:



jillcooperI could write this in the third person. I could tell you what I like, where I was born, and what my favorite things are. But instead, I’ll say I don’t want to write like everyone else. I don’t want to craft stories you’ve read a thousand times before. I want my novels to be a cinematic experience, blending themes, genres, and situations unlike any you’ve ever read. I want to break the rules. I want you to break out in a cold sweat as you read my books out of fear, love, and excitement. I want my books to be an experience. When you finish, I want you to feel something. Good or bad. If you do, then I’ll have succeeded. If not, I’ll keep trying. Website | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Literary Addicts | Goodreads | Tsu Must be US address and 18+ Fill out the form below to enter

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Kiss the Bride: Three Summer Love Stories by Various Authors



Meet the people who make it all happen—the planners, the photographers, the musicians who have helped orchestrate the perfect day for countless couples—as they find their own happy endings in the second Year of Weddings novella collection.

Picture Perfect Love: A June Wedding Story by Melissa McClone

When image becomes everything, it’s up to love to refocus the heart.

Photographer Jenna Harrison wants every bride and groom to look picture perfect on their special day. But her own heart is still broken, the unworn wedding dress hanging in her closet a reminder that relationships aren’t always as perfect as they look through her camera lens.

Attorney Ashton Vance is the one that got away, but he wrongly blamed Jenna for ruining his political aspirations. Even if Jenna can forgive him, dare he hope for a second chance at her love?

I Hope You Dance: A July Wedding Story by Robin Lee Hatcher

Can two left feet lead to one perfect romance?

Grant Nichols is a genius in the kitchen and a klutz on the dance floor. But his friend’s wedding is shaping up to be a shindig the likes of which Kings Meadow has never seen—including dancing. Lots of dancing.

Former rodeo queen Skye Foster is offering dance lessons for the wedding party. Grant and Skye are no match on paper. But when they step onto the dance floor, they create a melody all their own.

Love on a Deadline: An August Wedding Story by Kathryn Springer

MacKenzie “Mac” Davis returns to her hometown of Red Leaf, Wisconsin, and takes a job at the weekly newspaper writing about social events.

When Hollis Channing, Mac’s high school nemesis, returns to Red Leaf to marry her celebrity fiancé, the editor asks Mac to cover all the festivities for the newspaper. The last thing Mac wants to do is reconnect with the person who made her life miserable when she was a teenager . . . unless it’s spending time with Ethan Channing, the bride’s older brother—and Mac’s first crush.

Excerpt From Picture Perfect Love by Melissa McClone:

Her ex-fiancé, Ashton Vance, was the last person Jenna expected to see. Wanted to see. Ever.
He looked . . . good. His classically handsome features seemed more chiseled than two years ago. Maybe that was due to his shorter, corporate haircut. So different from the longer, curly-at-the-ends style he’d worn before. His tailored suit screamed successful attorney. No sign of the beard stubble she’d found so appealing.
She blinked, thinking she must be hallucinating, then refocused. He was still standing on her front step, an unreadable expression on his face.
Hello, Jenna.”
His voice washed over her like chocolate fondue. Deep, rich, warm. Exactly how she remembered. But hearing him say her name no longer gave her the good, shoot-to-her toes chills. More like a shiver down her spine.
Please, God, give me strength. A little grace wouldn’t hurt.
She forced herself to breathe. “Why are you here?”
Her voice sounded shaky, the way her insides felt. Ashton had been the man she’d dreamed of being with for the rest of her life. The man who hadn’t believed his own fiancée was telling the truth. The man who’d broken her heart.
A fair question.”
Nothing had been fair. Not the weeks of crying. Not the months trying to get over him. Not the nearly two years putting herself and her life back together. Jenna’s muscles bunched, one after another, into a mass of triple knots.
She raised her chin, not about to make this easy on him. She was no longer a pushover and had found strength, not in herself, but in God. “Then answer my question.”
Ashton flinched.
Jenna didn’t care. Ashton Vance . . . Ash had been her world. She would have done anything for the man, but she had zero patience now. She wanted him gone.
He glanced around. “May I come in?”
No.” Turning the cheek was one thing. Acting like an idiot was another. She wasn’t being rude, but practical. “Clients will be arriving soon.”
A vein throbbed at his jaw. His blue eyes resembled the color of the Columbia River during a storm. She probably shouldn’t take so much pleasure in his unease.
He cleared his throat. “I just found out you didn’t post that photo. I’m sorry for blaming you and calling you a liar.”
She waited for relief to hit. It didn’t. Nor did any other emotion now that he’d accepted the truth. She felt disconnected, more observer than participant. Strange, given the times she’d imagined this moment, but his showing up seemed anticlimactic. Maybe because she’d realized their relationship hadn’t been based on unconditional love, but on being the perfect couple, attending the most popular church in town, and having a big wedding so voters would think he was a happily married family man, rather than a bachelor who lived in a downtown condo.
Amber came clean,” Jenna said.
His lips parted, matching the surprise in his eyes. “You knew my sister sent the photo?”
Having me Photoshop the picture was her idea. She was the only other person who knew it existed.”
Ash’s gaze narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I did, but you’d made up your mind I had to be the one who posted the picture to the newspaper’s Facebook page.”
I had. That’s why I want to apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I feel horrible for everything that happened.”
Welcome to my world.”
Jenna . . .”
What?” Okay, maybe her words hadn’t been polite, but she’d been honest. The one thing she’d been through the ordeal. Though few had believed her. Everyone—from their friends to those who attended Westside Christian Church—had sided with him. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
Accepting my apology would be nice.”
Nice.” The word tasted like dirt in her mouth. “There’s nothing nice about this.”
I thought you’d be happy I don’t blame you any longer.”
 “I am, but I would be happier if you’d believed before this.”
I thought about calling you. Several times.”
But you didn’t. You’re only here because you have proof.”
First - quote from books:

“There’s always a plan. Not yours or mine, but His.”

Some quotes from reviews:

"This is also a beautiful story of second chances and waiting on God's time and plan." -

"This story warmed my heart and made me smile as I hope it will do for you." - Carol on Goodreads

"McClone does an excellent job of combining a sweet reunion romance with excellent lessons in forgiveness and faith." - Julie on Goodreads

"Her characters have a depth to them that is often hard to see in a novella." - Dawn on Goodreads

"I loved the poignant back story, and how themes of faith, family and reconciliation were woven into the story. Highly recommend!" - Labor Not In Vain blog

Monday, June 20, 2016

Under the Full Moon by Mike Zimmerman

Cover Reveal


Under the Full Moon For months, gruesome murders have gone unexplained near a rural English tavern in the woods. The deaths have been primal, and on the eve of the latest corpse discovery, a stranger enters town. Desperate to earn the trust of the patrons that same evening, he insists that he knows what beast has tortured the small community, and he knows how to stop it before it kills again. Not everyone is convinced, and when another person goes missing, unlikely alliances are forged to end the nightmare under the full moon. Add on Goodreads  

head shot boomMike Zimmerman is a graduate of Oakland University in Rochester Michigan where he studied History, Political Science, and Social Studies. He is a published author in Renaissance Magazine and likes to write both fiction and nonfiction in his spare time. Mike Zimmerman has also published a full-length, historical fiction novel titled "Dracula's Apprentice." Follow his website

Friday, June 17, 2016

Book Blast: Under Her Skin by Margo Bond Collins

About Under Her Skin She's lucky he's a charmer… Lindi Parker works hard at being human, not an easy task for a weresnake. She has no desire to search for others like her—until a new case changes everything. When Lindi learns that she she's not the only shapeshifter in the world, she realizes she might be next on a killer's list. In order to save herself and the abused children she works with, she will have to team up with Dr. Kade Nevala, a member of the shifter tribe responsible for eradicating weresnakes—and the most attractive man Lindi's ever met. Even more terrifying, she’ll need to embrace her serpent side, a choice that has enormous consequences for Lindi, and for everyone around her. Add to Goodreads


About the Author Margo Bond Collins is addicted to coffee (mmm...caffeine) and SF/F television, especially Supernatural (mmm...Winchesters). She writes paranormal and contemporary romance, urban fantasy, and paranormal mystery. She lives in Texas with her daughter and several spoiled pets. Although she teaches college-level English courses online, writing fiction is her first love. She enjoys reading urban fantasy and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, vampires, ghosts, werewolves, and the women who love (and sometimes fight) them. You can learn more about her at and follow her on all the usual For updates about publications, free fiction, and other goodies, be sure to subscribe to her newsletter Amazon Author Page / Website/ Blog / Twitter@MargoBondCollin/ Google+ / Goodreads Author Page / Facebook Author Page / Pinterest

  Under Her Skin 

Win a paperback copy of Under Her Skin + Book Swag. Open to 18+ USA addresses a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, June 6, 2016

Get The Dream Killers Series Free and On Sale!

DreamKillers FREEDAYS  

My name’s River, and I’m a dream killer. The Sea of Dreams spat me out without any memories of who was or where I came from. I’ve spent years traveling Dreamland in our gypsy caravan, searching for clues. All I’ve discovered is that the all-powerful elders are collecting people like me—Dreamlanders who don’t fit in. Then I met a man who sails the Sea of Dreams, the one place all Dreamlanders fear. One touch of those ocean waves could shred the soul. Yet, he’s like me. He can hear the water’s whispers, touch her waves, and watch her dreams. My answers are out there—on his ship, on that sea. Somewhere out there is the graveyard of dreams.  

We’re under attack. The elders and their runners are grabbing as many people with unique gifts as they can to determine why Dreamland requires them. Why give birth to a basher with the ability to create? Why allow a cleaner the gift of healing? What is her design? Her intent? They’re not the only ones looking to use these specially gifted individuals. The mechanics and their army of hunters are capturing them as well, but with a different intent. They unleashed a virus, a virus of dreamers. Yes. Dreamers are attacking Dreamlanders. Dreamland has sent a savior, a mechanic capable of healing anything and anyone, one who’s stronger than any master mechanic we’ve ever seen. She didn’t do this to save Dreamlanders or your precious land of dreams. No. She sent us a cure to save me. She needs me. I don’t want to know why. 

Everything is better than ever. The graveyard is healing. The creatures are propagating and assisting the trapped dreamers. It seems as though my job is done. Seems so. That is until the dreamer trapped in my net shows up with strange stories about unicorns roaming around Denver. Our fold of reality is melting in Earth's. When Cable, the riverboat captain, steals the net, intent on destroying my dreamer to power his boat, Dreamland reveals a new secret. I know who I am, and it's not at all what I thought

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Shakespeare Ashes by Chris DeBrie



Donna wonders how she can forgive and forget. Charlene doesn't quite know what she wants. Robbie is usually thinking about which honey he plans to bag. Mary has all of these issues in one package. And Erven just does his best to obliterate the world.... in "Shakespeare Ashes", a viciously funny novel about five twenty-somethings, Chris DeBrie explores the complexities of love, gender, and race in twenty-first century America.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...