Saturday, April 30, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Bride and Tested by Brenda St. John Brown #GIVEAWAY

Bride and Tested
Brenda St. John Brown
Publication date: April 27th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Exes working together in a wedding business? What could go wrong?

Having inappropriate dreams about my ex-husband is problematic. The fact that he’s applied to be the business partner in my wedding business – and is an infuriatingly savvy businessman – is even more so.

Our marriage ended because we were both more married to our jobs than each other, but now I can barely look at Lincoln without imagining him naked. How the hell am I supposed to work with him?

My ex-wife, Evie – aka Evil (thank you, random autocorrect) – runs the most successful bridal shop in the whole of the Finger Lakes region and she needs a business partner. Happy coincidence because I need a steady income. ASAP.

I also need to stop noticing Evie’s curves. And her smile. And everything about her that makes me want a second chance.

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“I propose a toast.” Mika raises her lipstick-rimmed glass. “To finding an outstanding partner and crushing this year’s wedding season.”

“I’ll always drink to the success of my business.” I raise my glass too and clink it gently against hers.

“The right person is going to come through. I can tell.”

“Is this like the time you could tell Lincoln was going to propose? Because, although you were right, I’m hoping for a better outcome this time.” Preferably one which doesn’t involve getting my heart broken.

“Hey, Lincoln wasn’t all bad. You ended up in Enita Springs, you met me and you got his last name out of the deal for Bennett’s Bridal. The power of good alliteration cannot be underestimated.”

“True enough.” I laugh.

“Are we talking about him yet?” Mika asks, her voice softening. “Specifically, are we talking about what happened this morning because I think we should.”

I give a sharp shake of my head. “Definitely not.”

Mika studies me for a long minute then nods, too. “Okay. I figured, but you know I’m here when you want to process things.”

“I’m probably never going to want to process this.” I’d rather talk about a silent investor than what happened this morning with Lincoln. My face feels ten degrees hotter just thinking about it.

“Okay, fine.” Mika nods again and then says, “I’m just going to point out you’re bound to run into him again. Enita Springs isn’t big. Do you have a plan for when you do?”

Besides turn and run the other way? No.

To Mika I say, “I don’t need a plan. I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Because you’ve dealt with all the feelings seeing him brought up or because you’re still avoiding said feelings?”

“What’s there to deal with? I was embarrassed, which is understandable.” And the time before I was so nervous I thought my chest was going to explode, but being nervous is perfectly normal. “Besides, it’s stupid. We’ve been divorced longer than we were married.”

“Just because time has passed doesn’t mean you’ve dealt with your feelings about the end of your marriage.”

“Feelings, schmeelings. I’m avoiding them, and it’s working for me so far.” I take a sip of my wine. “Just like I plan to avoid Lincoln.”

“You two were the happiest couple I knew,” Mika says softly.

My heart feels like someone’s squeezing it and I’d wonder if I was having a sudden heart attack if I didn’t recognize it for what it is – nostalgia. “We were really happy, as much as it pains me to admit it.”

“Why does it pain you to admit it? Being happy is a good thing.”

“Not when you squander it like we did.” I take a deep breath, hoping it will help my chest expand again.

“You never saw him after you guys filed for divorce. It might be good for you to actually, you know, have a conversation with him about what happened.” Mika raises her glass to her lips and looks at me over the rim. “For closure.”

“I have the signed divorce papers, which is enough closure for me. Besides, I’m avoiding him, remember?”

“Hmmm.” Mika takes a sip of her wine but doesn’t say anything else.

She doesn’t need to. I know what she’s thinking, just like I know she’s wrong. I have zero intention of seeing Lincoln again if I can help it. If I do, I can always go with my unofficial plan to turn and run the other way and pray he doesn’t see me.

Because if he does, it’s not going to take him long to realize I still have feelings for him. Deep and complicated feelings I have no business having. Especially for my ex-husband. Add in the real reason I didn’t fight for us and, well…avoiding him is my only choice.

Author Bio:

Brenda is a USA Today bestselling author living in the English countryside. Originally from New York, she's lived in the UK long enough to gain dual citizenship, but still doesn’t understand Celsius. However, she has learned the appropriate use of the word “pants”. And how to order a proper bacon bap/barm/buttie. Because, well, bacon.

Brenda writes contemporary romance to make you giggle and swoon. When she’s not writing, she enjoys hiking, running and reading. In theory, she also enjoys cooking, but it’s more that she enjoys eating and, try as she might, she can’t live on Doritos alone.

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BOOK BLITZ: Love You Right by Julia Kent #GIVEAWAY

Love You Right
Julia Kent
(Love You, Maine, #1)
Publication date: April 26th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

A missed opportunity five years ago makes for an unexpected encounter now between two people meant for each other – but who square off in a very public battle of wills in the small town of Love You, Maine, where every day is Valentine’s Day. Can love conquer all in a town steeped in it?

Kell Luview refuses to be a sucker at love again. Five years ago, he left D.C. with his tail between his legs and his heart broken. Fiercely protective of his small town in rural Maine, he’s determined to save the family tree business and avoid his feelings at all costs, no matter how much he longs to solve the mystery of what happened in D.C.

L.A. native Rachel Hart hates being underestimated almost as much as she hates this small town. She has two goals on this trip: get out of the cheesy tourist trap of Love You, Maine with a completed business deal, and avoid running into Kell, her old friend from D.C. who never became an old flame because of a huge misunderstanding.

One that still aches.

When her rental car breaks down on a logging road and Kell comes to her rescue, it’s clear he’s a changed man – and not for the good. Grumpy and reserved, he pushes all her buttons, still stubbornly convinced she betrayed him all those years ago. He’s never forgiven her, and she’s never forgiven herself for carrying a torch for him.

An embarrassing incident gets the town gossip mill going when residents wrongly assume Kell and Rachel are the newest couple to find love in the most romantic place on Earth. But the townsfolk aren’t wrong for long…

As Rachel breaks through his defenses and charms the town, he faces his biggest fear: all those pesky feelings he’s been avoiding.

Because they’re all about Rachel now.

And maybe they always were.

Can Kell and Rachel fight their growing attraction in the one place in the world where you can’t avoid love?

If you’re looking for a fun read about enemies to lovers, forced proximity, heroines who get their comeuppance and sworn bachelors felled by unexpected true love, featuring a hot bearded lumberjack impervious to poison ivy, and a city-slicker, jaded career woman with a penchant for great coffee, set in a small town in New England – then this is your book.

Grab a cup of (properly good) coffee, a can of hot cocoa mix, a jar of Fluff and maybe some calamine lotion (just in case), and get your happymeter ready as you read the very first book in New York Times bestselling romantic comedy author Julia Kent’s Love You, Maine series – where love isn’t just a feeling – it’s a way of life.

✓Enemies to Lovers
✓Small town romance
✓Lumberjack and city slicker outsider
… and a cat named Calamine

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“Kell,” she whispered against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this.” She motioned at the romantic dinner he’d created for the two of them, the wide table in this conference room an ample spread for a…

Ample spread.

“We haven’t even had dinner. Thank me after.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Is that an offer?”

“Rachel,” he said, moving his hand from her waist to cup her ass. “That’s more than an offer.”

He started to kiss her again, but she put her fingers on his lips. “If we don’t eat dinner first, we’ll never eat. And I have a meeting here in this very room, to try to pitch the deal again, in three days. Boundaries, Kell – boundaries. I refuse to have sex on this conference table.”

“The thought never, ever occurred to me,” he lied.



With a deep laugh he adored, she reached for the bottle of wine. “How about you uncork this and we start with a lovely glass.”

“Fine. The table is off the table.”

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at

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Friday, April 29, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Bridges by Linda Griffin #GIVEAWAY

Linda Griffin
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: April 25th 2022
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

In 1963, Neil Vincent, a middle-aged World War II veteran and “Christian atheist” is working at Westfield Court as a chauffeur. He spends most of his spare time reading. Mary Claire DeWinter is a young, blind, Catholic college student and reluctant heiress. To secure her inheritance, she has to marry within a year, and her aunt is pressuring her to marry a rich man who teased and bullied her when she was a child. Neil and Mary Claire shouldn’t even be friends, but the gulf between them is bridged by a shared love of books. Can they cross the bridge to more?

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On the drive to Brierly Station, he didn’t speculate about who Miss DeWinter might be. It wasn’t his job to know who she was, only to meet her train and take her safely back to Westfield Court. She wouldn’t be the last of the friends and relatives who would gather as the old man’s life came to its long-awaited and peaceful end.

Brierly was bustling today, as restless as the St. James household. He was in plenty of time for the train and sat in the car reading. The car was a Bentley Mark VI, as well-maintained and highly polished as it was the day it was purchased. The book he was reading was Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native.

When the train rumbled in, he got out of the car. He stood patiently on the platform as the passengers disembarked, holding up a small slate on which he had chalked DEWINTER in large capitals. There weren’t many passengers, but they were briefly delayed while the conductor helped a blind woman navigate the steps. Neil’s gaze fell expectantly on a woman in her thirties, with an awful hat, but she was immediately met by a portly man and a teenage boy. No other likely prospects appeared, and he waited for someone to respond to the sign. No one did.

Finally, only two passengers were left on the platform—a small, homely man and the blind woman. Blind girl, really. She couldn’t be more than twenty. She had a jointed white cane, and her large sunglasses didn’t cover the edges of the scars on her face. She would not have been beautiful even without the scars—too thin, for starters, of average height but with small bones. On the other hand, her face might once have been pretty, and her hair was clean and shining, raven black, and well brushed. She was too pale, and the scars around her eyes were red and ugly. She looked a little lost.

Feeling foolish, he lowered the slate. “Miss DeWinter?” he asked as he approached her.

“Yes,” she said, turning toward his voice with a smile.

“I’m Vincent,” he said. “The St. James chauffeur.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Vincent,” she said. “Thank you for meeting me.” Her voice was soft, her enunciation perfect.

The porter fetched her luggage—a single gray vinyl suitcase with a flower decal—from the depot and turned it over to Neil with a cheerful nod. Jane would be disappointed, especially if the girl’s other clothes were as plain as what she wore, a simple dark dress with long sleeves and an unfashionable, below-the-knees hemline. “Would you take my arm?” he asked, positioning himself so she could place her hand in the crook of his elbow, which she did with easy confidence.

“Do you have a Christian name?” she asked.

“Yes, miss. It’s Neil.”

“That’s a good name,” she said. “Mine is Mary Claire. How is my grandfather, do you know?”

Neil, who hadn’t known the old man had any grandchildren, said, “Hanging on, miss.”

He opened the car door and helped her into the back seat.

“You don’t have to call me ‘miss’ all the time,” she said. “Please call me Mary Claire. Or my friends at school call me Sunny.”

“Yes, miss,” he said automatically and closed the door.

Author Bio:

For more information, visit my website, sign up for my newsletter, and claim a free autographed copy of Stonebridge:

I was born and raised in San Diego, California and earned a BA in English from San Diego State University and an MLS from UCLA. I began my career as a reference and collection development librarian in the Art and Music Section of the San Diego Public Library and then transferred to the Literature and Languages Section, where I had the pleasure of managing the Central Library’s Fiction collection and initiating fiction order lists for the entire library system. Although I also enjoy reading biography, memoir, and history, fiction remains my first love. In addition to the three R’s—reading, writing, and research—I enjoy Scrabble, movies, and travel.

My earliest ambition was to be a “book maker” and I wrote my first story, “Judy and the Fairies,” with a plot stolen from a comic book, at the age of six. I broke into print in college with a story in the San Diego State University literary journal, The Phoenix, but most of my magazine publications came after I left the library to spend more time on my writing.

My stories have been published in numerous journals, including Eclectica, Thema Literary Journal, The Binnacle, The Nassau Review, Orbis, and Avalon Literary Review, and in the anthologies Short Story America, Vol. 2, The Captive and the Dead, and Australia Burns. Four stories, including one as yet unpublished, received honorable mention in the Short Story America Prize for Short Fiction contests.

Member of RWA, Authors Guild, and Sisters in Crime

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Monday, April 25, 2022

B@@K REVEAL: Scarred Siren by Jennifer Bene #PreORDER

Scarred Siren
Jennifer Bene
(The Beth Series, #3)
Publication date: October 14th 2022
Genres: Adult, Gothic, Romance, Suspense

The end of Beth’s story is coming October 2022, pre-order now!

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Author Bio:

Jennifer Bene is a USA Today bestselling author of dangerously sexy and deviously dark romance. From BDSM to Suspense, Dark Romance, and Thrillers—she writes it all. Always delivering a twisty, spine-tingling journey with the promise of a happily-ever-after.

Don't miss a release! Sign up for the newsletter to get new book alerts (and a free welcome book) at

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BOOK BLITZ: Flare by Jay Hogan #GIVEAWAY

Jay Hogan
(Style Series, #1)
Publication date: April 21st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

My own fashion label. The shiny new sign above the door means everything. My dream. My life. Worth every gruelling hour I’ve spent making it happen. Nothing can stop me now. Not the fear. Not the nightmares. Not my sad excuse for a love life. And certainly not Beckett Northcott, the sexy English professor who wouldn’t know a fitted shirt if it slapped him in the face and who has flannel down to an art form.

I don’t date for a very good reason, and yet Beck makes me want to break every damn one of my rules. But with my debut at Fashion Week looming, my business in trouble, and Beckett Northcott peeling open my terrified heart to a future I’ve never imagined, the threads of my carefully woven life are unravelling at the seams.

I could walk away. Or I could take a chance that Beck and I might just have what it takes to fashion a new life, together. A fresh design from a new cloth.

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Shayne extolled the virtues of his lookbook in painful detail, careful to point out all the high-profile designers he’d modelled for. The message was clear. If I wanted Flare, my shiny new label, to succeed in its first appearance at Fashion Week, I needed him, front and centre. I didn’t even have an open call going. He’d just arrived on the doorstep of Flare and assumed I’d be interested, no, gagging to see him. I’d have choked on the sheer audacity if it wasn’t for the fact he had a point.

I did need something, but it certainly wasn’t his or anybody else’s bullshit.

My gaze flicked over his shoulder to where my shop assistant stood with his lips flattened against the glass, his tongue darting obscenely in and out. Kip made no bones about his gutter-dragging opinion of the excruciatingly beautiful but arrogant-as-fuck model, and I made a fair attempt at swallowing my laugh. But the resulting half snort almost blew the show.

Shayne spun in his seat, but you had to be quicker than that to catch Kip Grantham napping—his attention locked on his steamer as he pressed my new season feather-collared jackets fresh from my manufacturer. He gave Shayne a waggle of his fingers that got ten points for insolence but didn’t fool anyone.

Shayne turned back with his lip curled. Beauty never made up for a personality that verged on the nasty, which was only one of the reasons Shayne wouldn’t be gracing my runway anytime soon. The other reason being his tendency for drama with a capital D, and I prized composure as much as looks in the models I employed.

“All my slots are gone for this year, sorry,” I lied unapologetically, doing my best to ignore Kip thumbing his nose in the background.

“That’s not what I heard,” Shayne said tartly.


“I can wear anything well, and you know it.”

Which was unfortunately true, but beside the point. “I’m sure you’ll have a ton of designers clamouring to add you to their list once they know you’re back. I’ve already chosen the one pinch-hitter model I’m allowed from outside the casting call. You missed that day, right?” I couldn’t resist the dig.

He sniffed. “I was overseas. Miami. Stockholm.” He waved a hand in the air. “The casting agency contacted my agent, of course, but it couldn’t be helped.”

Behind Shayne, Kip gave an epic eye-roll that would’ve given the London Eye a run for its money.

Shayne studied his fingernails. “And yes, I’ve had a lot of requests since I returned. But I like your work, Rhys. It’s a little raw, but there’s a freshness to it—”

I imagined strangling the man by his Hermes scarf, knowing Kip would help me hide the body.

“—and since this is your debut year, I thought I’d give you first shot at me. I can help make that splash you need.”

Again, unfortunately true. But Jesus fucking Christ, he’d never speak like that to a seasoned designer. It was all I could do not to boot the arsehole from my office, but New Zealand fashion was a tiny industry, and the last thing I wanted was to earn a name for myself as a prima donna in my first year.

“I’m flattered you thought of me.” I almost choked on the words as Kip mimed hanging himself with his tie while walking downhill. “But not this time.” Read ever.

Shayne stared, bewildered, like I’d lost my ever-loving mind, and maybe I had. Then he shrugged. “Well, I hope you don’t come to regret your decision.” He shoved his lookbook in his fashionable Burberry satchel with an audible huff. “Young-gun invites only happen once, right?”

“Right.” I nodded sagely, wondering if it would be considered a service to humanity to throttle dickhead sanctimonious pricks on a Friday afternoon before they were let loose on an unsuspecting weekend. If it wasn’t, I was going to petition for a law change. “I guess I’ll have to rely on my actual designs, won’t I?”

He sent me a look that said he knew there was an insult in there somewhere, but I wasn’t worth the effort to search for it.

I should be getting back to work.” I pushed to my feet and circled around the desk, making it clear the meeting was over.

Shayne gathered his coat and satchel and then stood. “I, um, ended things with Marc, in case you were wondering.”

I wasn’t and looked puzzled just to piss him off. “Marc?” I knew damn well who he was talking about.

He narrowed his gaze. “Marc Norman.”

“Oh. Shame.” I felt oddly relieved for Marc, who was in fact a lovely guy, if a bit . . . vacant.

Shayne ran his gaze slowly up my body and I suddenly needed a shower. “Maybe you and I could do . . . something?”

Not in a million years. “Thanks, but I’m too busy to date right now.”

He shot me a sly grin. “It wouldn’t have to be a date.”

And yeah, I might’ve thrown up in my mouth. “The answer’s still no.” I plastered a grin in place. “Sorry.”

A spark of annoyance flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t push.

“Let me walk you out.” I ushered Shayne past Kip, who discreetly stabbed a finger in and out of his mouth, and then out the front door of Flare and into the crisp June air laced with salt from the harbour beyond. As soon as the coast was clear, I spun back to my assistant, my mouth open in a silent scream. Kip raced to my side, and together we watched Shayne cross the road and disappear from view in a cloud of Yves St Laurent and pissy flounce.

“Oh. My. God. That man is a douchebag of the highest order.” Kip slipped his arm through mine and pulled me toward the service desk. “He’s always dropping into the shop looking for you. I put him off as often as I can, but he does actually spend money, so I don’t want to piss him off too much. I don’t know why he’s so fucking popular.”

I snorted a laugh. “You mean apart from his scorching angular waifish look and ability to have both men and women drooling over their credit cards as they rush to buy whatever the fuck he wears?”

Kip huffed. “People will follow any idiot off a cliff if they look like they know what they’re doing. Your clothes stand on their own, Rhys. They don’t need a pretty clothes horse.”

I shot him a look and he pulled a face.

“Okay, maybe one or two pretty clothes horses wouldn’t go amiss.

Author Bio:

Heart, humour and keeping it real.

Jay is a 2020 Lambda Literary Award Finalist in Gay Romance and her book Off Balance was the 2021 New Zealand Romance Book of the Year.

She is a New Zealand author writing m/m romance and romantic suspense, primarily set in New Zealand. She writes character driven romances with lots of humour, a good dose of reality and a splash of angst. She's travelled extensively, lived in many countries, and in a past life she was a critical care nurse, nurse educator and counsellor. Jay is owned by a huge Maine Coon cat and a gorgeous Cocker Spaniel.

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Sunday, April 24, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Hungry for More by Scarlett Se Leva #GIVEAWAY

Hungry for More
Scarlett Se Leva
(Determined, #2)
Publication date: April 20th 2022
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

I craved her.
I loved her.
Until she disappeared without a word.

I was doing just fine then she stumbles back into my life.
The sight of her has reopened old wounds.

They say it’s best to forgive.
But all I want is revenge.

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Fucking hell, this isn’t the time to be reminiscing. The atmosphere becomes stifling. My breathing labors. I can feel Simone getting closer.

I look across the room and gasp, taking a couple of breaths to get my treacherous heart under control. The bastard betrays me, thumping erratically at the sight of her.

Is it even possible that Simone has gone from beautiful to otherworldly? She ages like fine wine. Yeah, that shit is cliché, but it’s not when it’s true. Her dress hugs every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. My eyes follow the deep v down her chest, showing the swell of her breasts.

I want to run over and shield her from the eyes watching her. Old habits die hard.

Every motherfucker in here can see her.

She’s not yours.

My mouth curves up with an image of her on her knees, my hands fisting her hair as she gags on my cock.

I’m fucking sick.

I shake my head to rid myself of the image.

Our eyes collide. Turmoil brews in their depth. Simone braces herself for my reaction. She drags her eyes across my body, giving it a once-over. My stomach muscles knot like rope at the perusal. There’s no warm embrace. Simone doesn’t run to me, begging for forgiveness.

Author Bio:

Scarlett Se Leva writes unexpected, steamy, suspenseful romance.

When Scar isn’t busy penning her next book, you can find her with her family watching movies, drinking wine, curled up in a corner with a book or running after her three daughters.

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Saturday, April 23, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Out of the Ashes by Cara Dee #GIVEAWAY

Out of the Ashes
Cara Dee
(The Game Series, #5)
Publication date: April 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

Join Master Kingsley and his pet Tate at rock bottom, where their true love story can finally begin. The beautiful and the ugly, the tears and the laughter…and the introduction of a man’s first foray into kink as a submissive Daddy.

We screwed up, Master.

It wasn’t until I stood there alone in the ashes, raw, naked, enraged, and in more pain than I could handle that I realized we’d been wrong from the beginning. I saw our history in the rubble—all our memories, the pictures filled with devotion and laughter, my wholehearted submission to him. And we had to rewrite the ending. We had to. Kingsley and I couldn’t be over. I missed him so much that it hurt to breathe. But we had burned out.

We will burn again, baby.

Our biggest mistake had been to put an expiration date on a love destined for eternity. We’d been blinded by our kinks not lining up perfectly. We’d let fears and insecurities rule in silence, and it was time to confront them head on. We were going to expose ourselves, push every limit, and reignite. Because Tate and I belonged in the fire. We played hard and loved even harder. I wouldn’t allow the unknown to terrify us, to restrict us, even if our new path was…unconventional. Even if we brought in someone else to light the match for us.

We’ll burn together.

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, one thing is certain. This is not a perfect world—and maybe that’s why the happily ever after feels so good.

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By the time pizza got here, I was painfully aware of Lee’s presence. I’d heard his low chuckle a couple times from where he sat on Lucian and KC’s porch. The cabins were maybe twenty or thirty feet away from the edge of the patio, yet it felt like Lee was standing right behind me.

It was a good thing I had my back to them. Otherwise, I would’ve glued my stare to him.

The one glimpse I’d gotten wasn’t nearly enough. Shay had been right. Lee did look as bad as me, which gave me conflicting emotions. It hurt me to see him hurt, at the same time as I found comfort in that he was struggling too. Did that make me a bad person?

I wanted to see him again. Unlike me, he’d never given much thought to what he wore; he was a jeans and T-shirt guy. Or a hoodie now that the weather was turning for the colder. And I kinda loved that about him. His style, or lack of it, represented comfort and familiarity to me. I didn’t know how many times I’d put on one of his hoodies when I had to spend an evening without him, if he was on call or something. He was wearing one of his old Navy hoodies right now, one of my favorites.

I could just picture him sitting over there, casually, one foot resting on his knee, the foot always bouncing a little, probably a smoke between his fingers… And he often ran a hand through his hair. Hair that tended to fall into his eyes. Hair that I’d always liked to tuck behind his ear. Which sometimes annoyed him in a cute way. Like, “Get your paws outta my face, pet.” And he’d narrow his eyes at me before he nipped at my cheek and—

Oh my God. I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t keep playing these scenarios in my head; I got so swept away by them, to the point where I could almost smell his hoodie, feel his lips on my neck, hear his warm voice…

A rushing sound invaded my ears. My heart started pounding, and my vision blurred and became unfocused. The grief gripped me so tightly that I didn’t know what to do with myself, but a second later, my flight instincts kicked in. I shot up from my seat and sent the chair flying backward, and then I was running inside. Jesus fuck, my chest hurt. It felt like it was about to cave in.

I heard both Ivy and Shay call my name, but I kept running. Through the club area, out into the lobby, where I took the stairs. I was just fucking done. Done with the depression, done with the pain, done with feeling like my future had just been stolen from me.

I made it to the third floor, and I was a goddamn mess. Fingers trembling, breathing erratic, I unlocked the door to my guest room and all but stumbled inside. A beat later, panic swallowed me whole.

Shit. I couldn’t breathe. I bent over and planted my hands on my knees, and I choked for air. My skin prickled and went numb in waves, my heart wouldn’t stop slamming against my ribcage, and then dizziness washed over me.

I can’t deal anymore. I give up. Send me to the fucking psych ward.

I heard a strangled groan, or maybe a gasp, and knew it came from within. Black spots filled my vision.


Author Bio:

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

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BOOK BLITZ: Busting His Brat by Christine Page #GIVEAWAY

Busting His Brat
Christine Paige
Publication date: April 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Sometimes attraction is too strong to ignore.

Trapped in her cage as a socialite, Romy just wants her freedom,
but getting caught speeding puts her in danger in more ways than one.
The cop’s attention is magnetic, intense, and positively sinful,
and being at his mercy might be just what her life needs.

When Mike pulls over the pretty girl trying to break the sound barrier, he’s not prepared for her innocence, or just how tempting her vulnerability is.
Everything about her screams off-limits, but what is it they say?

Let it go, and if it comes back…it’s yours?
Well, then she belongs to him and no one else.

Utterly and completely his.

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With how nicely she asked, how can I argue with her request? I drive back into her mouth, kissing her as if she’s my last meal. It’s so easy to enjoy the slick slide of our tongues together with her perfectly large breasts pressed against my chest. I’m in heaven. Her pulse continues to strum under my fingertips as my hand stays on her throat. That spanking really has her juices flowing.

I can’t get enough of my little kitten as she tugs at my hair, moaning into my mouth, pleading for more, begging without words for me not to stop.

“Say it again,” I growl into her mouth and pull away for a moment. She sags into me until our foreheads touch and our breaths mingle.

“More please, Daddy. I need you.” She gasps as I crush her lips in another heated kiss.

I lean in close to her ear after the last kiss, both of us breathing heavily, and whisper in her ear, “I want you, now.” With a low growl, I pick her up and carry her to my king-size bed. The air between us is thick with anticipation as I set her down and cup her face. She is all mine.

Our lips crash together again, tongues melding until we’re lost in each other. My hands run up and down her sides, moving down to cup her ass over her skirt. She whimpers into my mouth when I give her a little squeeze. Paradise.

Author Bio:

Christine Paige grew up in a small town outside of Spokane, Washington, where she lived on a farm, riding her father’s cattle, before she could convince him into purchasing a pony for her. After high school she packed her bags and moved to New York City where she was a nanny for a few years, before landing a job at the American Red Cross, then becoming a Paramedic for the FDNY. Her stepmother introduced her to the love of romance novels. Christine writes in the early morning hours, most of her free time is spent hanging out with her four special needs rescue dogs, or she is out wandering the trails on the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Christine considers family, friends, and her critters to be the most important aspect of her life. Gunner’s Girl is Christine’s first novel.

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Friday, April 22, 2022

BLEEDING SOULS SAVED by LOVE! Peter's Prize by Candi Fox #NowLive

PETER'S PRIZE by Candi Fox

Peter Luciano

I get what I want and I want Wendi Deveraux. She sings at my sworn enemy’s nightclub. It will be all the sweeter taking her from James Bruno.

Wendi Deveraux

I sing to pay my mother’s hospital bills, but I hate James Bruno whose club has become my gilded cage. Hope begins to grow when Peter Luciano promises he can open Bruno’s cruel grasp.

Belle Night I’m in love with my boss, Peter Luciano, but he doesn’t see me. Now he demands I help his latest conquest get free of a man he’s hated for years. How can I remove the jagged pieces of my broken heart?

PETER’S PRIZE is a fable retelling of Peter Pan


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BOOK BLITZ: The Reluctant Bride by Monica Murphy #GIVEAWAY

The Reluctant Bride
Monica Murphy
Published by: Dangerous Press
Publication date: April 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Everyone’s for sale, including me. One moment I’m the forgotten daughter of one of the most wealthy families in the country, and the next I’m the blushing bride in an arranged marriage. My fate is sealed in my wedded union with a complete stranger.

In public, Perry Constantine is the life of the party. Easygoing. Adored. In private, he’s brooding. Dark. Angry. But so am I. It’s a contest of wills to see who will break in the bedroom first, and while I try to remain strong, I find myself craving the very man I swore to hate.

My husband.

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“Good morning,” I say as I take a step back from my mother’s embrace. Can’t linger too long or Winny will say something snide and rude.

He doesn’t say a word beyond a nod of acknowledgement at my arrival. His expression is stern, yet impassive. I never know what he’s thinking, and it’s disconcerting. I’ve learned from that though, and do my damnedest to wear the same expression when I’m dealing with Halcyon business for Win.

Or when I’m trying to get out of a sticky situation with a woman. That happens more often than I care to admit.

“Have a seat, darling,” Mother says, indicating the chair on the other side of Winston. I do as she says, settling into the leather chair that’s more comfortable than the one I sit in at my desk every damn day. “How was your weekend?”

I can’t tell her it was full of debauchery that included too much alcohol and too many women, but I avoid the paparazzi at the more popular clubs to keep it under wraps.

Instead I smile at her and say, “It was fine.”

Winston snorts. I’m sure he knows what I was up to. Wonder if he misses it. If I had his hot wife to come home to every evening, I wouldn’t miss that lifestyle at all.

“That’s nice.” Mother smiles, revealing straight white teeth that nearly blind me. Looks like someone just visited the dentist. “I hear you’ve been given new projects at Halcyon.”

I chance a look at Winston but he’s not paying attention to us. Too busy tapping away on his phone.

“I have.” I try to tamp down my excitement before my brother calls me out for behaving like a hyperactive puppy. “I’m handling all the angry calls that come into the office.”

Mother frowns. “Angry calls?”

I nod. “We piss off a lot of people in this city. There’s a lot of damage control going on. And not always of the—violent variety.”

The knowing look on her face is obvious. She’s just as ruthless as Winston. Swear to God that’s where he got it from, not Dad. Clearing his throat, Winston sits up straight, resting his arms on top of the table.

“Enough with the pleasantries. Let’s get down to business.”

“Winston,” Mother murmurs.

I frown at the both of them. “What exactly is this business we’re discussing this early in the morning anyway?”

Mother clears her throat as well, glancing over at Winston before she turns her attention on me. “It has to do with…you.”

I frown. “What about me?”

“Perry, darling. You’re not getting any younger.” Her expression is dour, as if she’s discussing something that displeases her. “It’s time for you to settle down.”

I snort. So does Winston.

“I’m only twenty-four,” I remind her. “Winston didn’t marry until he was forty.”

“Thirty-nine,” he corrects.

“Whatever,” I say to him, returning my attention to our mother. “There’s no one I want to settle down with anyway, so I can’t.”

“Ah, but you can.” Her smile is serene. “I’ve found someone for you, Perry. And you’re going to absolutely adore her.”

Wait a minute.

Back the fuck up.

Author Bio:

New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author. A believer in kissing. A believer of love.

I also write contemporary romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

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Thursday, April 21, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Under the Stars by Melissa Chambers #GIVEAWAY

Under the Stars
Melissa Chambers
(Destiny Dunes, #6)
Publication date: April 19th 2022
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Why is he making it so hard to hate him?


There are few things I enjoy more than messing with Taylor Palmer. She’s such a priss with her tight, corporate skirts and her high heels. Someone’s got to bring her down to Earth.

She glares at me and parades her dates into my bar like she thinks it’ll bother me. She’s on the hunt for a husband, but she’s doing it all wrong. She’s never going to be into one of these nerds. She really wants a man like me, but I’m not on the market.

I can help her find a guy she can stomach. And if she decides to break her celibacy streak with me in the meantime, good for her…and me. But she better not get attached. She also needs to quit making me feel things I don’t understand.


I’ll never forgive John Chapman for what he did to my best friend. I don’t care that she’s forgiven him, is close friends with him now, and even seems to be pushing me toward him. It’s because he and I are the last two single people in our friend group. All will be right in the world if he and I just connect. Forget it.

He fancies himself some kind of dating coach. He says he can find me the right guy. He certainly couldn’t do worse than I’ve been doing. I guess it won’t hurt to let him help.

The only problem is he won’t quit making his own moves on me, and they are working, impressively. I can’t fall for him. He’s made that crystal clear. But as we grow closer, I have to wonder if I’m chipping away at his cement walls, just a little bit.

Welcome to Destiny Dunes, where the only thing hotter than the Florida sun is the romance between this resort’s employees. Each book in this steamy series focuses on your favorite romance tropes. Once you enter the gates of Destiny Dunes, you’ll never want to leave!

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“You ready to do this?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Take the picture.” He heads out of the store and I follow behind him.

“Right now?”

“No, next May. Yes, right now.”

“I thought maybe I’d have time to settle into the idea of me in a two-piece plastered all over the Internet.”

He leads us through the open-air mall, past some kids playing in the sprinklers while their parents sip coffee in wrought-iron chairs. “Are we doing this thing or not?”

“We are,” I say.

“Then either you trust me or you don’t.”

“I definitely don’t.”

He comes to a halt and faces me. “Turn around.”

“What? Why?”

“Just turn around.”

I huff, but I do it.

“Now fall backwards.”

I turn back around and face him. “You are crazy.”

“Don’t look at me. Look straight forward.”

I let out a sigh and then turn away from him again.

“Fall backwards.”

“And you’re going to catch me?” I ask in a very doubtful tone.

“Of course I’m gonna catch you. I’m not going to let you fall to the ground and bust your head open.”

“What happens if some pretty girl walks by and you turn your head right when I’m getting ready to fall?”

“I don’t need to look at some pretty girl. I’m looking at you . . . your ass to be specific.”

“See, right away I don’t trust you. My ass isn’t what’s going to fall backward first. It’s my shoulders.”

“I’m watching your whole body.”

Two girls sipping iced coffees pause, watching us. I smile at them and they smile back. “We’re gathering a crowd,” I say through clenched teeth.

“If you would just hurry up and get this over with, we wouldn’t garner so much attention.”

I imagine myself falling backwards and my stomach goes for a loop. “Are you sure you can catch me?”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen me?”

“I know, but I’m a big girl.”

“This is insulting, Taylor. I work out every day. Have you seen me without a shirt on?”

I try to remember if I have, but I’m pretty sure I only have dreamed of his bare chest. “All right, I concede that you can probably catch me.”

“Probably? Come on. Just fall backwards.”

“But why?”

“Because this will do wonders for our relationship. If you can trust me to prevent a brain injury, surely you can trust me with your dating profile.”

“Okay,” I say, fiddling with the bag.

“Give me that,” he says. I pass it back to him and hear it drop on the ground. “Hold your arms out so I can get my arms around you.”

The idea of his arms on my body sends a flock of butterflies through my chest. Now I’m more invested. Because as much as I need to not think about these things, I want to know what his touch feels like. I turn my head. “How far back are you?”

“I’m the perfect amount.”

There are several groups of people watching us now. I cover my eyes. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

“Do you want me to count off?”

“No, I’m going to do it . . . unless you need to count off because you’re looking away or something.”

“He hasn’t looked away from you this whole time,” one of the iced coffee girls says.

“Really?” I ask her.

“Oh yeah,” the other one says. “He is laser-focused on you. I think you can trust him.”

I purse my lips. “If you only knew him you wouldn’t say that.”

“I’d like to get to know him,” her friend says, and then they giggle together.

“Taylor,” Chapman says, and the sound of my name coming from his mouth sends a quiver through my belly.


“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice steady and serious. I close my eyes, my stomach in knots. I let out a breath and I say, “Okay.”

I allow myself to fall, and just when I think I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m going to have a concussion or end up in the hospital, he catches me as those big, capable arms wrap around me.

The groups around us whoop with applause. He sets me up on my feet, and I turn around to face him. He’s smiling at me, genuinely—not one of those cocky smiles like he’s gotten something over on me or that he knows I’m dying for his hot body in my bed and he’s just tempting me with it, but a real smile like we’re friends. “You caught me,” I say, sounding more surprised than I should.

“Of course I caught you.”

Author Bio:

Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).

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Wednesday, April 20, 2022

BOOK BLITZ: Virtual Reality Bites by Ava Wixx #GIVEAWAY

Virtual Reality Bites
Ava Wixx
Publication date: April 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Science Fiction

What happens when a romance author agrees to test romance tropes in virtual reality?

Following divorce number two, Zoe Woods is jaded, bitter, and unable to write her latest novel. For an author whose brand is all about finding true love, that’s kind of a problem.

Desperate to revive her romantic optimism, Zoe accepts an offer from an unlikely place to beta test virtual reality romance tropes. Unfortunately, Zoe jumps in too fast, and instead of a fun romp in virtual Romancelandia to rekindle her creativity, she finds one debacle after another.

Regretting her choices, Zoe realizes nothing is ever what it seems when it comes to love and romance and fantasy vs real world. The only thing she does know for sure is that virtual reality definitely bites.

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“What the hell is going on?” I danced from foot to foot as if I could keep my private bits blurry by not remaining still. In theory, it could work, but I was pretty sure I’d have to do my little embarrassed jig a lot faster.

Xander cupped the back of his neck, his eyes darting everywhere but on me. “I was getting to this part. To simplify it for you, this is like the setup part of a video game where you get to pick your main outfit for your avatar, gear up, and—”

“I don’t play video games! I’m not you and Adam! Just tell me how to not be naked right now, Xander!” It might have been virtual reality, but I didn’t want to be standing around sans clothes regardless. It simply felt too real, which meant the accompanying mortification was as well.

“Picture yourself in clothes.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I imagined my favorite comfy jeans and a soft, navy-blue T-shirt.

“Are you doing it?”

“Yes.” I glanced down the length of my still very naked body. “Why isn’t it working, Xander? Are you … you’re punking me, aren’t you? This is like that time you walked in on me when I was getting out of the shower when I was seventeen.” Anger surged through my veins, heating my blood, scorching away all traces of embarrassment. Balling my fists at my sides, I marched toward Xander. “This is not funny. At all. Asshole. And I swear on all that is holy that if you don’t—”

“It’s not my fault!” Xander stumbled back a few steps. “You have full control of this!”

“Then why am I still naked? Huh?”

“I-I don’t … hold on a second.” He pixelized briefly before vanishing.

I spun in a circle. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I stood there naked and alone, not exactly sure if the alone part was an improvement. “I should have at least gotten a towel,” I grumbled. “Not even romance heroines drip dry straight out of the shower. There’s no way I did this to myself.” I wrung out my hair, the simple act miraculously evaporating all moisture from my tresses. Huh.

Author Bio:

Ava Wixx escaped into books at a young age and decided to stay there. It was only a matter of time before she was driven to create her own fantasy worlds from fear of running out of places to explore. Reader, writer, dreamer … Ava only toils in reality when absolutely necessary. She lives in North Carolina with her husband, and spoiled mini-poodle.

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