Saturday, February 28, 2015

BLOG TOUR: Slow Burn BY: K. Bromberg



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Meet Becks & Haddie in SLOW BURN - the newest stand alone in the
Driven Series by K. Bromberg!
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NOW AVAILABLE
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Excerpt
“Yeah. That’s one way to put it. Is there something else you called for besides trying to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong?”
I open my mouth and then shut it, unsure how calling him because I just needed to hear his voice has devolved so quickly into this. Into me scrambling for words I can’t find to fix shit that doesn’t need fixing.
Because I don’t want this. Don’t want him.
“Well then, if you want to actually talk instead of pull this ridiculous bullshit, I’m here for you…but Had…? Whatever this is here…this passive aggressive crap? I don’t do too well with that. We had our one night. You made it quite clear you didn’t want anything more than that so you don’t get to call me up and question what I might or might not be doing with anybody else. You want no strings? Then cut the ties…but frankly I don’t think you know what the fuck you want so until you figure your shit out, I think it’s best that we say good night before we make a bad situation even worse.”
“Wait!” Desperation rings in my voice in the single word. And I hate myself for sounding like this but I’m so lonely, so scared and just want the comfort I know he can bring me right now.
I wait for the sound of the dial tone to assault my ears. Wait for the incessant beep that reaffirms why I have barbed wire wrapped around my heart – painful but necessary. But there is nothing for a few moments until I hear the phone scrape against the stubble on his face.
And I wait…my throat burning with the tears I want to shed but am so sick of. The ones that no longer bring me comfort.
“I’m here, Haddie. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” The timbre of his voice carries his concern and sympathy to me through the line.
The incoherent sound I make is all I can offer in thank you to him for not hanging up on me. For not giving up on me.
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Cover & Book Summary
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ONE NIGHT. THAT'S ALL IT WAS SUPPOSED  TO BE.
Reeling from the sudden loss of her sister, Haddie Montgomery has sworn off relationships. All she wanted from Beckett Daniels was a sexy distraction to help her escape her pain for just a little while....There weren’t supposed to be any strings attached—so why can’t she shake the memory of that unforgettable night from her thoughts? Or the taste of his kiss from her lips?
No matter how hard Haddie tries to forget about him, Becks relentlessly tries to prove that she should start living for today. But she is determined to avoid romantic commitment, and she can always use her ex-boyfriend’s reappearance to help snuff out the slow burn within her that Becks has sparked....
Or will fate force her to realize that this kind of connection doesn’t come along very often and a chance at love is worth the risk?


About the Author:
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New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her—the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard.


K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.


On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015




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BLOG TOUR: When Fate Isn’t Enough BY: Isabelle Richards



Synopsis:
Can a romance that was written in the stars survive real life? Lily Clark and Gavin Edwards met when their lives collided in a crazy twist of fate. Their relationship started amidst chaos, fraught with lust, passion, and love. Building a life together will take more than destiny, especially when ghosts from their past try to tear them apart.

Needing a fresh start, Lily decides to escape her life in Washington, DC to join Gavin in London. Trust and faith have never come easily to Lily. She’ll be put to the test now that she and Gavin are living under the same roof.
To make matters worse, trouble finds Lily wherever she goes. She thought she’d rid herself of her late husband’s demons, but she soon learns that when you make a deal with the devil, he often comes back to up the ante. Can she learn to let Gavin in or will she continue to fight her battles alone? Find out what happens When Fate Isn’t Enough.
Buy Links:
When Fates Collide:

Excerpt:

“Bloody hell,” Gavin yells as he smashes his fist on the floor. He drags his fingers through his hair. “Some days I hate my job. There’s nothing I would rather do than continue to lie here with you and maybe go for another round. Unfortunately, someone in my company seriously buggered up a program and we’ve been spending all day trying to figure out if it can be fixed. Millions of pounds are at risk. I have to get back to work.”
I pat his chest lightly. “Gavin, I still can’t feel my legs. Go back to work if you have to, but you can’t do it here. Don’t you have a conference room you can use or something?”
He kisses my neck. “Lily, I can’t leave you like this.” 
“You got all caveman and needed to try to break the orgasm record. Well, this is what happens afterward. Go do whatever it is that you do and leave me to my post-orgasm bliss.” I close my eyes. “All your tension is killing my buzz.” 
He picks up his shirt from across the room, then slides it over my shoulders. “If I don’t cover you up, I’m likely to try to go back for more.”
I shoo him away. 
He calls Snooty and tells her to have the team meet him in another office. I fade out of consciousness until he brings me back with a deep kiss. Opening my eyes, I see he has showered and put on a fresh shirt. No one would guess he just spent an hour fucking my brains out. Unless they heard us, that is. Just the thought of being heard by his stuck up secretary makes me tuck my head and blush. 
He crouches lifts my chin and kisses me. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I smile. “You have a company to run.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “Luv, I don’t know when I’ll be done today,” he says. “I may be working well past midnight.”
“Gavin, I’m a big girl. I got here by myself; I can leave by myself.”
“I feel awkward. I don’t want you to feel…”
“Tawdry? Please, I came here for one thing and I got it. Don’t feel guilty. I sure as hell don’t. We can cuddle and play kissy face later.” I slap his ass. “Now get out of here and play CEO. It’s kinda hot.” 
He kisses me and laughs until the door closes behind him. When I come down from my high, I collect my lingerie and try to put myself together. Gavin strolled out of here looking perfect but when I look in the mirror I see I’m a wreck. My lips are swollen and my makeup is smeared. I clean up as much as I can but I still make a beeline for the elevator when I sneak out of his office. Snooty says something, but I ignore her. 
When I get in a cab, I text Gavin. That was my first walk of shame. Totally worth it. See you at home.
Gavin: That breaks my heart. What we did was too amazing to have shame attached to it. Plus, I own the building. If I want to shag in the middle of the day, I will. Everyone else can piss off! 

Gavin: I’m thrilled you called the flat home ☺




Isabelle Richards Bio:
Isabelle Richards spent years as a speech writer before tackling fiction. An avid reader of all genres, Isabelle is drawn to romance novels as they provide an escape from daily life.  Through her complex cast of characters, Isabelle creates a sanctuary for readers to dive into for a break from reality.
When she is not writing, Isabelle works as an advocate for persons with disabilities in Washington, DC. Her two yellow labs are her writing partners, although they frequently sleep on the job. 

Links:
Giveaway


BLOG TOUR: The Summer Remains BY: Seth King

Title: The Summer Remains
Author: Seth King
Release Date: Feb 14, 2015
Find on Goodreads
Twenty-four-year-old Summer Johnson knows two things. The first is that due to a quickly worsening medical condition, she faces a risky surgery in three months’ time that may very well end in her death. The second is that she would like to fall in love before then.
As spring sinks into her namesake season on the Florida coastline, Summer plays the odds and downloads a new dating app - and after one intriguing message from a beautiful surfer named Cooper Nichols, it becomes clear that the story of what may be her last few months under the sun is about to be completely revised. All she has to do now is write something worth reading.
Tender, honest, devastating and triumphant, The Summer Remains explores a very human battle being waged in a very digital age: the search for a love that will outlast this temporary borrowing of bones. In an era when many feel compelled to share and re-share anything about everything, prepare to feel a love so special, you will want to hug it close and make it yours forever.
Chapter 1
On a sunny Tuesday morning towards the end of March, a white-haired man walked into a cold room and told me I might die soon.
I fidgeted on the hospital bed as Dr. Steinberg entered, the late-spring sunlight mocking me as smiled onto the industrial tile floors. I’d known Steinberg since I was four. He’d handled almost all of my throat problems, and I trusted him. He was like a second father to me, and I knew he would always tell me the truth.
That’s why the look on his face scared the living shit out of me.
I listened for the next ten minutes as he gave me the gist of the story. It was all so surreal that my mind could only catch certain phrases before the sentence would run away from me again:
Your esophagus has ruptured again, for good this time…
Your stomach is leaking more and more…
Toxicity levels are through the roof…
Your body just isn’t getting the nutrients it needs from your feeding tube any longer…
And finally, terminal.
“Terminal?” I heard myself squeak, my throat filling up with that weird, shivery feeling you get when you know your life has just changed. Steinberg suddenly became very interested in a fraying string on the sleeve of his jacket.
“T-terminal,” he stuttered. “Summer, the thing is…I’m afraid this is a…well, nobody has ever…”
He finally cleared his throat and met my gaze, tears pooling in the corners of his cerulean eyes. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry to tell you this, but this mountain may be unclimbable for you.”
My mother let out a small, sharp sob in the corner and then clapped her hands over her mouth.
“Okay, unclimbable,” I swallowed, staring down at the floor as I tried to grasp just what that word now meant to me and my family and this weird little life I had created for myself.  “Okay. Unclimbable. Okay.”
But Steinberg wasn’t done yet.
“Hold on. I said it may be unclimbable, not that it definitely will be. I want to prepare you, and I don’t want to give you any false hope, but there may be something we can do, Summer. It’s a small chance, but still, it’s a chance. A Hail Mary, if you will.”
I reached up to rub my temples. “Okay, well, survival sounds good. Better than death, I suppose. What is this Hail Mary?”
Steinberg crossed his arms, studied me for a moment, and then took out a chart and launched into a spiel about something called the Porter-Collins Procedure, an extremely major surgery that would perhaps be saving my life in three months’ time.
“Nobody has ever survived this particular operation,” he concluded a few minutes later, skipping all the medical jargon to keep from boring you to death, pardon my pun. “Nobody. It’s been attempted three times, but none of those were ultimately successful. One person survived for three months in intensive care, but she was fifty-one, and in frail health in general. We think you’re a much more viable candidate, but then again, there is no way to be sure. We can do it in two, maybe three months, after I assemble the specialists and create a game plan – considering your health doesn’t take another nosedive before then, that is. If we’re going to try this, we need you in tip-top shape – or as close to that as we can get you, anyway.”
“Okay,” I said again, sitting a little taller. “And what are the chances that this Hail Mary will even work, and that I won’t just die a few days later, anyway?”
He peered down at me from over his glasses. “I’m afraid to say that it would be stretching things to even tell you eighty/twenty.”
I steeled myself and took a breath. “Okay, well, that’s better than a hundred to zero. Let’s go out with a bang, then, Steinberg. Let’s do this.”
He threw up a fist, triumphant, but I could see the fear in his eyes. “It’s settled, then. Hail Mary it is.”
My mom rushed over to sit beside me and kind of hang onto my shoulder as some counselor woman came in who helped families handle these types of situations – “transitions,” she called them, and just hearing that word threatened to pull me under. Dr. Steinberg watched, an apology on his face, as she said things like “preparations” and “options” and “arrangements.” I tried to be polite and pay attention, but truthfully I didn’t give a damn about what she was saying. It was go time, and things were looking grim. I already knew that. The wet, metallic panic erupting in my stomach was due to an entirely different subject.
“And finally,” the counselor, Angie, said in a hushed, clipped, polite voice that spoke of years of having impossible conversations with worried families huddled in chilly waiting rooms, “I work very closely with Last Great Hope, a wonderful organization that specializes in situations like this, and if there is anything you want before the surgery, Summer – a trip to Tahiti, a cabin in the mountains, whatever – we can do it. Or if-”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, making her stop short.
“Wh – excuse me?”
“Save the Disney trips for the twelve-year-olds,” I told her. “Spend all that money on a cancer kid or something; I know the truth about those fairy tales now. Make someone else happy – I’ve got everything I need. Or almost everything.” I paused as everyone leaned in. “I do have one request, actually. First of all, all of you are forgetting something vital.”
“Oh no, did we forget your milk?” my mom asked as she reached for her purse. “I thought I put some-”
“No, Shelly, we did not forget the baby milk I pump into my stomach tube every day to keep myself alive because my throat doesn’t work, but that does have something to do with it.”
As she pouted in my general direction I realized what a complete bitch I was being, and then I realized just as quickly that I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself anyway.
“What is it, then?” my mom asked, stung, and I took a breath and then pushed it back out.
“Frankly, I need all of you to chill the fuck out.”
My mom dropped her purse onto her lap. Dr. Steinberg looked at me like I’d just tried to jump out of the third story window. Angie held her pen in midair and stared at me, the sun turning her brownish eyes ocher.
“Excuse me, young lady?” my mother asked. “We need to what?”
“Chill the eff out,” I said, editing my language the second time around. “Sorry, but all this emotion and drama and doom and gloom crap is already making me freak out. You’re all forgetting I’ve had a broken throat and a tube in my abdomen since I was in diapers, and that I can handle this. I’ve dealt with health scares before, and I will do it again, no matter how much scarier this Scare is than all the other Scares. Like, I know you’re trying to help and stuff, and I love you, but having meltdowns in front of me is not going to help me deal with all this, so please, I beg you, everyone take a deep breath, close your eyes, and get your panties out of a bunch.”
“We’re sorry,” my mom said after an impossibly long and awkward moment. “It’s just that we need to prepare you for…for what will happen, and-”
“Prepare me to die?” I asked. “Guess what, Shelly, I’m going to die one day, be it in three months or sixty years, and wasting all my time crying over it isn’t going to help. Here’s what I want, my one last wish – or my maybe-not-last wish, or whatever the hell this is.” A tear appeared in my mom’s eye, and I softened my voice as I reached up to wipe her cheek. “Okay. Before the surgery, I want to have a normal summer by the beach,” I began as I cleared her eye and shook the water from my finger. “I want to go to the sea and go to work and read my books and go about my business like usual without everyone breathing down my neck and treating me like A Broken Person, because if I am treated like A Broken Person for one more month of my life I will break some faces, no offense. Shelly, if you so much as make one special meal – I mean, not that I can eat or anything, because I can’t – anyway, I’m burning down the house. There will literally be a pile of smoldering ashes where your kitchen used to be, I promise.” Shelly pouted again, but I trudged through. “I’m serious, no special treatment. No Christmases in July, no excessive hugging, not even a midnight run to Target for some trinkets from the dollar section. And most of all…”
I looked around and, seeing sympathy in everyone’s eyes and knowing this request would be completely futile, said – “No sympathy. Please. The sympathy is what breaks me and makes me feel broken. If this is gonna be my last chance to live and have fun and be normal, then I’m going to need to feel as normal as possible, and that means absolutely no pity, because that separates me from everyone else and makes me Different with a capital D. And if I don’t stay in a good headspace I’m gonna spend the next three months in a fetal position in my closet having an endless anxiety attack about the surgery, so please work with me here and keep the pity locked up.”
A sigh and a smile. Shelly put her hand on mine. “I would never pity you, Summer. You’re the strongest person I know, and you always have been. You know that. We all know that. That’s not what this is about.”
I tried to smile back. “Thanks, Shelly.”
“Anytime. And can you please call me Mom, like a normal twenty-four-year-old?”
“Not a chance, Shelly.”
“Okay, fine. So, then…a Jax Beach summer? Is that really all you want?”
I paused as her words hung in the overly sanitized air. It wasn’t all, and I knew it. As I sat there I thought of the one thing I didn’t have, the one thing I’d never had, the one thing that screamed at me from the silence and jumped out at me from the shadows – and now that this upcoming summer had perhaps just become Summer’s Last Stand, my desire was suddenly more urgent than ever. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop the longing from rising to my face, and as I felt the blood burn my cheeks I caught Steinberg’s eyes again, which just embarrassed me even more.
“Well, I mean, since you’re asking, there is one thing…”
“Anything!” Shelly and Dr. Steinberg said at exactly the same time, and I stared out of the window as my eyes got all weird and watery.
“Okay, well, I know something so sentimental is going to sound crazy coming from someone so…well, you know how I am…”
“Honest?” Steinberg offered, trying to be polite.
“Opinionated?” Shelly said.
“Brash?” Angie asked, even though she’d just met me ten minutes ago and it was literally beyond embarrassing that she already held that opinion of me.
“Headstrong and stubborn and annoying,” I finally said, shoving it out of the way, and they all nodded. “Anyway, here goes. Since you’re asking, the thing is…well, I’d like to fall in love.”
I looked down at the ground again as everyone in the room broke my most important rule already: I could feel their pity descending on me, smothering me just like it had my entire life, snuffing out any chance I had at being treated like a normal, living, breathing human, who deserved to love and be loved just like anyone else, as they say in the Hallmark cards.
“Oh, honey…” Steinberg sighed.
“It just wouldn’t be fair to someone…” my mother chimed in, just as Angie the counselor lady threw in her two cents, too.
“Sweetie, you have to understand, your situation is very serious. People get irrational during times like these, and if you get involved with someone and the worst happened, well-”
I crossed my fingers behind my back and shook my head. I’d known they’d react like this – why had I even tried in the first place? Some things, I knew, were just better left unshared.
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay, yeah, you guys are right. I’ll try to…put that off, I guess. For now. God knows I have tons of time to think about it – it’s not like I’m dying or anything.”
Everyone forced quick, fake laughs and then got back to business. Unbeknownst to them, however, my mind was quickly leaving the room, flying past the barren oak branches outside the window and soaring above the clouds to someplace only I knew. My desires could not be contained by the circumstances in this room, or by sickness, or even by reality in general, really. I wanted love more than anything – this was true, as much as it humiliated me to admit it. I’d wanted love ever since I was a cookie-cutter little girl being brainwashed by cookie-cutter Disney movies about cookie-cutter princes and princesses falling into cookie-cutter love and then prancing off to their cookie-cutter castles to live out their cookie-cutter lives. And strangely enough, this desire had only deepened after the fairy tale fantasies faded away and melted into a more grown up, real-world entity known as relationship FOMO, when my condition had rendered me an observer from the social media sidelines as everyone my age paired up and got engaged and married and pregnant and then shouted about it from the Facebook treetops as loud as their keyboards would let them while I sat there single as a nun with the flu. But I didn’t want that cookie cutter love from the Disney movies and my social media feeds. I didn’t want some run of the mill summer romance that would fizzle out as soon as the sunrays slanted in the fall and the Facebook Official status went to shit.
Because I, Summer Johnson, Purveyor of Pragmatism, Lover of Logic, Ultimate Believer in the Rational, and Person Who Was Maybe Going To Die Soon, wanted to drown in someone.

Seth King is a twenty-five-year-old author and artist.

RELEASE BLITZ: Sting BY: Jennifer Ryder




Title: Sting
Series: Spark #4
Author: Jennifer Ryder
Release Date: February 28, 2015


Synopsis


Going undercover has its challenges. When Detective Ryan Clark is sent to the sleepy coastal town of Fremantle to dismantle the country’s most lethal drug syndicate, it’s worth the risk. Even if he becomes a fatality, in the war against drugs.

Ryan finds himself coming back to the same coffee shop. Blondie, the local barista, has him hot under the collar and reaching for his piece. He knows the attraction isn’t just one-sided.

She’s trying to keep her distance.

It only makes him want her more.

Willow Asher left it all behind, but not by choice.

After two long years, she’s finally getting somewhere. Willow has a busy café with her buxom business partner, Gabby, who is the closest thing she has to family.

Although Willow’s past still plagues her thoughts, she’s determined to have her happily-ever-after. As soon as her demons stop haunting her.

What she doesn’t need is the complication of Mr Sexy-Brown-Eyes, who seems to be drinking more and more coffee.

She doesn’t want the questions.

She’s still trying to get her story straight.








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 Author Bio


New Adult and erotic romance writer, and author of the Spark series.

A sexy imagination, a life-long love of books and a sucker for romance, Jennifer Ryder couldn't stifle her creativity any longer.

Writing steamy adult romance has become her new focus. Living on a rural property in New South Wales, Australia, she enjoys the best of city and country.

Her loving husband is ever willing to provide inspiration, and her two young cherubs, and sheep that don't see fences as barriers, keep life more than interesting.

Jennifer placed third in the International Stringybark Erotic Short Fiction Award 2013.



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Giveaway

COVER REVEAL: Taking the Fall BY: W. Ferraro

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TakingTheFallCover
OUAA synopsis
Hunter Dennison has been an overachiever in all aspects of his life. He knows what he wants and goes after it, and he intends to follow suit in his love life with the young and beautiful Molly. His patience is at its last resolve as he waits for her to come of age, but finally the time has arrived, and he prepares to tell Molly how he feels. What he doesn’t know is that someone else has set their own selfish agenda into motion, wreaking havoc on Hunter’s intentions and his confidence in Molly’s character. Believing the vicious lies, Hunter veers off his planned path. He finds solace and comfort in another’s arms, never realizing that he leaves in his wake a devastated Molly. However, fate cannot be fooled. Now, twenty years later, they both have settled into their own lives in Clearwater Falls. Hunter intends to rectify the past by letting Molly know that she is the one he wants now, just as he had wanted then. Can passion all these years in the making overcome the weight of regret that they both carry? Or will the price of their previous mistakes leave an insurmountable divide in their chance at forever?
WARNING: Recommended for adult readers (18+) only. Mature themes, strong language, and sexual content.
OUAATeaser
Young couple kissiing*** DENNISON SERIES ***
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OUAA About Author
I live in New England with my young family.  I’m a stay at home mom to two very active children.  For all of you who are familiar with the stress of this job, I decided to complete an item on my bucket list and write a book.  When I’m not writing, you will find me cooking, reading, shopping or being silly with the kids.  In my opinion, one of life’s greatest pleasure is being able to get lost in a book.
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