***Book Blitz*** Absolute Silence By Jill Ramsower (The Five Families, #5)

Absolute Silence
Jill Ramsower
(The Five Families, #5)
Publication date: March 10th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The Lion’s Den club was better than I ever imagined and my worst nightmares, all combined.

I thought I was going to explore my darkest fantasies.
Gain a better understanding of myself and discover what I’d been missing in life.

Instead, I made a deal with the devil.

I had hoped I wouldn’t see anyone I knew at the club.
Coming face-to-face with Filip De Luca was a worst-case scenario.

Filip was effortless power seething beneath a playboy exterior.
A host of sharp edges disguised behind a cavalier grin.
Inescapably alluring and devastatingly dangerous.

He promised he wouldn’t tell my father about seeing me at the club.
I had his blessing to dip my toes into the dark waters of deviancy.

The catch?
Filip would guide me on this journey.
He would control every aspect of my exploration.
Set every boundary and command my obedience to his rules.

I thought I could live with his terms.
Gain the experience I wanted from a partner I could trust.

What a naïve fool I’d been to think our bargain could ever be so simple.

**Absolute Silence is the fifth book in The Five Families series but can be read as a standalone novel. This book is a mafia romance containing adult themes and may not be suitable for sensitive readers.

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PLUS! Book 1 is FREE for a limited time!

—

EXCERPT:

“We need to talk. Privately,” I told him.

He nodded and motioned to the elevator. When his hand grazed my lower back, I stiffened. His touch was too seductive to be allowed. Not when I had more pressing matters to delve into. I would not allow lust to break down my resolve. Nothing would come between me and what I had to say.

I charged past the main room, not taking notice of the activities within. I had one purpose, one directive, and I wasn’t interested in distractions. When the door to his room closed behind us, a swell of words and emotions wedged a knot in my throat. I wasn’t the crying type. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shed a tear, yet my nose began to sting with the telltale signs.

I took a deep, steadying breath before meeting Filip’s wary gaze. “How dare you blacklist me from another club.” My words were unsteady but still laced with venom. “You had no right.”

His eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You went to another club without even trying to talk through this with me first?”

“I don’t owe you anything. If I want to join another club, that’s my choice. My life.” I jabbed a finger at my chest, my voice growing stronger.

“I was trying to keep you safe, Camilla.”

“You were trying to control me!” I shouted back.

Filip charged, pinning me against the wall. His shallow breaths came unevenly through parted lips. The jagged flint in his eyes sparked as his gaze bore relentlessly deep into my soul. “I’ve always been perfectly honest with you about my need for control. I never pretended to be a saint, and I certainly didn’t give you the impression I was some kind of fucking Boy Scout. I do whatever is needed to protect what I value. My family. My home. You. Not to mention the fact that we made an agreement, and under the terms of our agreement, every inch of this body is mine. I’m not letting another man anywhere near you.”

“You don’t own me,” I hissed back, shoving my hands hard against his chest.

Filip clamped his hands around my wrists and subdued my assault with ease. “No, I don’t own you, but I do have a responsibility to protect you. You won’t always like my methods, but at least I know I’ve done my job.”

“It was a simple arrangement! It wasn’t like we signed in blood or something, which was evident since you’ve changed the terms. And besides, it sounds like this is more about you than me. It’s your duty that’s important to you, your ability to control those around you, and not my actual safety that’s so critical.”

His nostrils flared, and I got the sense I’d struck a nerve.

He took in three even breaths before delivering a devastating defense. “My mother was killed when I was only five,” he deadpanned in a hollow voice. “I spent the next half a decade being tossed from one relative to the next with zero stability in my life or control over what happened to me. I don’t just have a need for control; I can’t survive without it. When I feel the things that mean the most to me slipping from my control, I become crazed, and I can’t think straight. You, more than anything else, cause me to lose my fucking mind.”

Author Bio:

Award-winning author of contemporary and fantasy romance. With Jill’s books, you can count on confident heroines, plenty of steamy tension, and deliciously assertive leading men. There are no guarantees in life, but with her books, you know everything will work out in the end. However, a perfect ending would not be nearly as satisfying without a seemingly insurmountable challenge. Jill loves to add plenty of adversity in her stories, creating unforgettably dynamic characters and sneaky plot twists you will never see coming.

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***Excerpt Reveal*** What He Revealed By Jannat Bhat

EXCERPT

Sure, she was drunk but he wanted to strangle her. He controlled his instinct and sat down. “Eliana, no one hates you.”

“Yes, they do.” She said with conviction. “Even you hate me.”

“You had that coming,” Julian muttered and then aloud. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” She smiled at him.

“I don’t,” Julian swallowed the lump in his throat and said weakly. She was gorgeous when she smiled.

“That means you like me,” Eliana said happily and Julian looked surprised at her assumption.

“Woah, let’s not get carried away and jump to conclusions here.” He said. “Not hating you and liking you are poles apart.”

“So you don’t like me?” She pouted and started wailing again. Julian clenched his fists so he wouldn’t forcefully mute her.

“Okay, okay, stop whining. Sure, I like you, let’s go with that.” He said giving her a fake smile as if he was talking to an unstable person.

“I knew it!” She punched him playfully. “So what do you like about me?”

“God help me.” Julian murmured and closed his eyes.

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About The Book

Now that Julian Rivera and Eliana Bennett have finally admitted their feelings for each other, would the road to convincing her father that the bad boy isn’t so bad after all be easy? She didn’t think so.

Going to New Haven University with Julian and the gang was supposed to be a break from her father’s prying eyes, but when situations escalate and their relationship is revealed to Mr. Bennett in the worst possible way, Eliana is torn between the two men. With the support of Ethan, Naomi, Jax, Carter and Mia, the duo face every hurdle head on for the end result of being together.

Just when Eliana thought things couldn’t get worse, Julian gets into an accident. The last thing she expected was him to wake up with amnesia and forget all about the girl he loved.

***Book Blitz*** #Surviving40 By Karen Anne

#Surviving40
Karen Anne
Publication date: August 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Piper Quinn was more than ready to turn forty. So ready she began planning her Parisian celebration at thirty-five. That is until her life fell apart at thirty-nine. Left staring at divorce papers, Piper instantly regrets signing that pre-nup. How was she to know her husband would turn her in for a younger model?

After “accidentally” setting her Manhattan apartment on fire, Piper finds herself not only newly divorced, but newly homeless. Forced to move back home with her parents and take a job she doesn’t want, she soon discovers the gossip train in town moves faster than the subway system in New York—and she’s the hottest topic to leave the station. If matters weren’t bad enough, life in rural Connecticut seems downright claustrophobic when her sixteen year old daughter stops talking to her.

A blast from her past is the spark Piper needs to reignite her life. Owen Clarke, an old high school flame has the ability to turn back time making Piper feel sixteen again. The instant chemistry between them gives Piper hope of redeeming her second act. There’s only one teeny, tiny three foot problem: Owen’s daughter is in Piper’s Kindergarten class. With temptation lurking in every corner, Piper needs to put her emotions—and hormones— in check.

No one said getting older was easy, but turning forty just became a game of survival.

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—

EXCERPT:

#SurvivalTip: It’s not stalking if you show your face.

I was a glutton for punishment. No doubt in my mind I was in over my head and needed professional help. I had driven to the yoga studio in the next town where Avery taught. Now, I sat in my car, engine still running, willing myself to get the hell out. I watched her through the window. She was in a hot pink sports bra and soft grey leggings. Her hair was in its signature ponytail. There was a bounce in her step as she walked around the empty space of the studio pouring oil into the diffusers. She was in her zen arena, and I had no rational way of explaining my motive other than this woman had Owen and walked away. Why? There had to be something twisted inside her. Some narcissism or schizophrenia that would compel her to leave a man who was pretty close to perfect.

Convinced I had boarded the train to crazy town, I knew I had to get out of here before she saw me. A rap on my window caused me to jump and let out a yelp. I turned to my left, horrified to see Holly standing outside my car door. I lowered my window. “Oh my God! I thought that was you! What are you doing here?” She was practically bouncing.

“Um, Avery had invited me a few times, but my stomach is a little funky… bad sushi… so I think I’m going to head out.”

“Nonsense. Yoga is great for the digestive system. Come on, you’re going to freak over this class. Avery is amazing. You’ll love her.”
I doubted it, but could see no way out, so with a heavy heart, I cut my engine and followed Holly into the studio.

“Avery! Look who I found outside!” Holly grabbed my arm as if I might run away if she didn’t hold on to me. I didn’t blame her. There was a good chance I would flee at the first opportunity. Like a cat in an alley, scouring out the corners, looking for a place to hide, I was in full blown feral mode. If Avery came too close, there was a good chance I’d scratch her.

Avery was overjoyed to see me, her mouth agape as she waved her arms. It was exactly how a cult leader would look if they were trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she ran over to me, and her beautiful features suddenly held an alien quality to them.

“No way!” She pulled me into a deep hug. Damn this chick was solid. She was smaller than me, and it freaked me out, because I was pretty sure she could kick my ass. “I can’t believe you came! This is amazing. I’m telling you, after tonight, you will be hooked, right, Holly?”

“She’s so right. I swear if I miss a session, my body is quick to let me know—total withdrawal. I need this every week.”

“Have you taken yoga before, Ms. Quinn?”

“You can call me Piper.” It was clear they were all on a first name basis, and I didn’t want to be the old lady rigid in formality. I sized up Avery, trying to decipher how old she was. Owen was my year in school so we were the same age, but this woman, with her flawless skin that had never seen the sun without being protected in SPF 50, was still soaking in the glory of a body that was barely three decades old. “Not really. A few times here or there, but nothing too advanced. I’m not very flexible,” I admitted.

“Well, flexibility comes with practice, and that’s what this is. I don’t see it as exercise so much as a way of life.” Damn she was serious. “I need water every day. I need food, I need sleep. I also need yoga.”
I currently needed a plastic bag to vomit in. This chick was too poster perfect, and the more she spoke, the more inadequate I became.
Avery glanced at her watch. “Oh! Showtime! Let’s find a spot on the floor and settle in.”

There were at least ten other women in the room, and so I walked toward the back, but Holly grabbed my arm and told me to sit next to her. She unfurled her yoga mat, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t brought one.
“I don’t have a mat.” The words were low, and I imagined I sounded like one of my students saying they didn’t have a crayon to color the picture. I didn’t have a mat because I didn’t expect to actually enter the studio. I put on leggings and a tank top like it was a costume, the intention to workout wasn’t real. It was cosplay, nothing more.

“Avery has extra.” Holly jogged over to the corner and pulled a grey mat from the box. She laid it out in front of me, revealing the turquoise lotus flower that was printed in the center. I thanked Holly and sat on the lotus flower, copying Avery, who was now seated on the floor.

“Welcome back everyone.” Avery’s voice was silky smooth.
She’d be great as a phone sex operator. Hell, I’d pay a dollar a minute to see what she had to say. I could only imagine the lewd comments that voice had whispered into Owen’s attentive ears over the years. The hair on the back of my neck bristled at the thought.

Avery folded her legs in front of her in a way I referred to in kindergarten as “pretzel style” and took a few deep breaths. Her eyes were closed, and I soon became aware that everyone around me had also closed their eyes, trusting Avery’s voice to take them on this meditative journey. That was asking a lot of me, but not about to be caught staring at her, I closed my eyes and tried my best to breathe in a way that was not natural at all.

The breathing lasted a long time, and although I was supposed to be letting my thoughts melt away and empty my mind of heaviness, I was too busy burying myself in clutter as I tacked up insecurity after insecurity. The anxiety reached new heights when we were actually expected to transition from breathing to different animal poses. I didn’t know I’d have to be a cat, cow, cobra, and dog all in one flow. We were moving from downward dog to plank to cobra when Avery tilted her head, got up, and walked over to me. Crap. I was doing something wrong.

“Come back up to downward facing dog.” I did as she instructed and was surprised when she came behind me and held my hips. “Okay, you want to open up your hips more, spread your legs a bit wider, and really fall back into this stretch.” She kept one hand on my left hip, her right hand rested gently on my back. I hoped I wasn’t sweaty.

“Your goal is to have your heels touch the ground. It won’t happen right away.” She got beside me, mimicking the proper pose. My hamstrings were burning, which caused my legs to tremble. The blood rushed to my head; I raised my gaze and caught what we looked like in the mirror. It was a bad decision. The mirror only exposed how I felt— disoriented and in physical pain, while Avery bent over beside me, modeling the pose with ease.

“You want your body to become an upside down V. See?” I nodded and prayed she’d move on to another victim. The gods must have shown pity on me because she bounced back up and went to the front to show us the next pose.

Author Bio:

Karen Anne was writing before she could read. As a toddler, she sat with a book in her hands and made up the stories, eager for the day when she'd find out if it all truly ended in happily ever after. Karen still determines the destiny of other people's lives, but this time, the characters are her own.

She is a Contemporary Romance author who lives in New York.
Coffee drinker by day, wine enthusiast by night, she loves cats and deeply misses 90's grunge.

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***Book Blitz*** The Promise Kept By Maggie Mae Gallagher (Echo Springs, #2)

 

The Promise Kept
Maggie Mae Gallagher
(Echo Springs, #2)
Publication date: August 19th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Cybil Roe gave her heart away thirteen years ago only to have it wind up shattered. With painstaking determination, she has rebuilt her life into something to be proud of today. Yet all her future plans are upended when the only man she has ever loved returns to Echo Springs. Nor does it help that he seems bound and determined to draw her back into his life. Cybil vows to stay away from him, no matter what seeing him all the time does to her resolve.

Miles Keaton wiped the dust of his hometown off his shoes years ago, never expecting that life would lead him back to the place where he had begun. Coming home to Echo Springs, to Cybil, to start a new law practice and a new life is a risk he never thought he’d take. She hates him – with good reason. Years ago, he walked away when she needed him the most. But now is he back, and intends to argue the case of his life, one more important than any he has debated in a courtroom, because she is the one woman he cannot live without.

Can Miles convince Cybil to take a second chance on him, or will a secret she has kept all these years destroy any future they might have?

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—

PLUS! Book 1 - The Fixer Upper - is only 99¢ for a limited time!

—

EXCERPT:

“Oh, yes. Right there,” she murmured.

Cybil sighed at the strong hands kneading her tense shoulders. Golden sunshine warmed her skin. Azure waves lapped against the pristine, ivory sand not fifteen feet from where she lounged on a luxurious padded chaise. Her tanned skin glistened in the sun. The coconut scent from her suntan lotion wafted on the gentle breeze and mingled with the salt from the ocean waves. The simmering heat of the tropics caused perspiration to bead on her forehead and evaporate with the light wind. The sunglasses perched on her nose shaded her gray eyes from the radiant sunlight.

It was without a doubt a perfect day.

The light breeze played with the loose tendrils of her inky hair while the sexy-as-sin Pablo—he of the broad, tanned shoulders, gorgeously thick black hair, and soulful eyes—massaged her shoulders with his long, talented fingers. The man had the most wonderful, gifted hands and knew precisely where to exert the most pressure. And those thumbs of his were singularly skilled at ferreting out every ache and pain.

God, she had needed this getaway—away from the cold, the snow, the dreaded holidays, and nonstop work.

She muffled a moan.

Cybil couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She could still taste the lime and salt from her frozen margarita. And she was a breath away from suggesting to Pablo that they take the massage indoors to her beachside bungalow. The thought of those hands massaging other regions of her body left her achy and needy. It had been so long since she had been with a man. Since this was a vacation, she didn’t have to worry about getting attached. Cybil moaned as he dug into a knot on her left shoulder.

Pablo lowered his face. Cybil shivered, heady anticipation humming along her skin. Was he going to nibble on her ear? Suggest naughty, decadent delights to be had if they retreated indoors? She was ready and willing for anything the guy had in mind.

“Purrr.” A cold, wet nose pressed against the side of her cheek where it met her ear, amplifying the sound. The purr increased in tenor. Something tickled her nose.

Cybil cracked an eye open. A pair of golden eyes stared at her with expectation and determination, with a side of feline disdain that she had yet to acknowledge him.

Author Bio:

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Maggie grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Maggie never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Maggie is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes erotic romance under the name Anya Summers. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the United States Midwest with her two furry felines.

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***Book Blitz*** Warping Minds & Other Misdemeanors By Annette Marie, Rob Jacobsen (The Guild Codex: Warped, #1)

Warping Minds & Other Misdemeanors
Annette Marie, Rob Jacobsen
(The Guild Codex: Warped, #1)
Published by: Dark Owl Fantasy Inc.
Publication date: August 7th 2020
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy

My name is Kit Morris, and welcome to my warped life.

Picture the scene: Me, an average guy with psychic powers—not that my abilities are in any way average—just trying to scrape by in a harsh world. So maybe I’ve conned a few people, but did I really deserve to be thrown in MPD jail alongside magic-wielding serial killers?

According to Agent Lienna Shen, one-hundred-percent yes.

But her hardass attitude and “Arcana prodigy” status aren’t enough to bring down my former best friend, who slipped through the MPD’s fingers and is days away from unleashing untold horrors upon the city. Or he’s going to steal something. I don’t really know.

Whatever he’s up to, that’s why I’m sitting in an interrogation room with Lienna. And that’s why I just offered myself as her temporary new partner for the purposes of thwarting my ex-accomplice.

And that’s how I’m going to escape. I might even help with the case before I cut and run.

—
Warping Minds & Other Misdemeanors is the first book in a new series set in the world of The Guild Codex. It can be read on its own or as part of a larger adventure.

More series in the Guild Codex world:
The Guild Codex: Spellbound
The Guild Codex: Demonized

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—

EXCERPT:

The phone beeped again. Captain Blythe sighed, reached under the table, and lifted a cell phone into view. The screen lit up as she checked her messages. Her mouth tightened, which I took to mean doom and disaster were impending and we should take shelter immediately.

Standing, she clipped the phone back to her belt and turned to Lienna. “I need to take care of something. Keep him talking, Agent Shen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a sharp nod, Blythe strode out of the room and graciously slammed the door behind her.

“A little intense, isn’t she?” I observed.

Lienna took the vacated seat. “She’s a precinct captain in one of the biggest cities in the country.”

Hmm. Despite her neutral tone, her voice had a soft, caressing quality that I found surprisingly pleasant. It was a shame she wasn’t playing good cop.

“Every day, Captain Blythe deals with rampant magic, illicit guilds, arrogant guild masters who think they’re above the law, and violent criminals who use their abilities to hurt, cheat, or kill people.”

She didn’t add, “Violent criminals just like you.” Her restraint impressed me.

“And,” she continued, “all while keeping the existence of magic, guilds, and the MPD hidden from the public. A crucial mandate your guild flouted.” She cleared her throat. “But you were just an intern, weren’t you, Kit? You were doing what you were told. You don’t need to protect them.”

I grinned. “That works better without the throat-clear first. Really obvious tell that you’re about to bullshit me, I’ve gotta say.”

She stiffened in her seat.

“Oh, and try to relax more. The fake sympathy will be more convincing.”

Her glower returned full force, obliterating the remnants of her kind expression. It’d been a decent attempt at building a rapport with me. She wasn’t experienced at the technique, which seemed like an oversight in her training, but I suspected Lienna’s real role in the agency involved far more skill than mere interrogation.

According to the rumors floating through the holding cells—of which I believed maybe five percent— Agent Lienna Shen was an abjuration sorcerer, and abjuration was … anti-magic sorcery?

That concluded my knowledge on the topic. But I did know the handcuffs around my wrists were an artifact created by a sorcerer for a specific magical purpose: in this case, nullifying the magic of whoever had the unfortunate pleasure of wearing them.

When she didn’t respond to my helpful critique, I attempted a charming smile. “You’re pretty young for an agent.”

Lienna’s scowl deepened, even though it was a reasonable observation; she looked my age, which seemed like a stretch for full agenthood.

“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked coldly. “In this room?”

“Because Blythe has a thing for younger guys who can quote the entire courtroom speech from A Few

Good Men?”

“Because,” she said in that clipped tone people use when they’re silently praying for patience—or imagining what it’d feel like to strangle me, “we’re currently investigating three cases of extortion totaling two million dollars, five cases of embezzlement over five hundred thousand dollars each, and eight reports of blackmail. Your guild was behind them all, and unless you want those charges added to your already extensive list of crimes, you should strongly consider shedding some light on the inner workings of KCQ.”

Despite myself, my mood sobered. This wasn’t my first interrogation, but it was my first time in the custody of the international organization responsible for dispatching magic-wielding criminals. I had no idea what to expect as far as charges and sentencing.

“Let’s go back to the beginning,” she suggested. “Your name.” “Kit Morris.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“What’s your magic class?”

“Psychica.” Which she already knew. KCQ had been a guild populated entirely by voodoo-brain psychics with wildly varying abilities—all the wilder once I’d joined the team.

Author Bio:

Annette Marie is the author of Amazon best-selling YA urban fantasy series Steel & Stone, its prequel trilogy Spell Weaver, and romantic fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast-paced adventures and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it's not quite that bad) with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

Author links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

Rob is a Canadian writer, actor, and director, who has been in a few TV shows you might watch, had a few films in festivals you might have attended, and authored some stories you might have come across. He's hoping to accomplish plenty more by the time he inevitably dies surrounded by cats while watching reruns of Mr. Robot.

Currently, he is the Creative Director of Cave Puppet Films, as well as the co-author of the upcoming Guild Codex: Warped book series with Annette Marie.

Author links:
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***Book Blitz*** I Am Here Now By Barbara Bottner

I Am Here Now
Barbara Bottner
Published by: Macmillan
Publication date: August 4th 2020
Genres: Coming of Age, Young Adult

Set in the 1960s, Barbara Bottner’s I Am Here Now is a beautiful novel in verse about one artist’s coming of age. It’s a heartbreaking, powerful and inspiring depiction of what it’s like to shatter your life—and piece it all back together.

You can’t trust Life to give you decent parents, or beautiful eyes, a fine French accent or an outstanding flair for fashion. No, Life does what it wants. It’s sneaky as a thief.

Maisie’s first day of High school should be exciting, but all she wants is to escape.

Her world is lonely and chaotic, with an abusive mother and a father who’s rarely there to help.

So when Maisie, who finds refuge in her art, meets the spirited Rachel and her mother, a painter, she catches a glimpse of a very different world—one full of life, creativity, and love—and latches on.

But as she discovers her strengths through Rachel’s family, Maisie, increasingly desperate, finds herself risking new friendships, and the very future she’s searching for.

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—

EXCERPT:

THE CITY

The tiny fire escape is our private spot.

My dad says he’s sorry he’s gone so often.

Do I remember when I was six

and he took me into the city?

I wore a red coat, red shoes,

and perfect white leather gloves

embroidered with tiny blue buds.

I recall watching the road into New York:

billboards, telephone lines, bridges,

muddy sky.

The parking garage man said,

“So you’re the boss man’s little lady

I’ve heard so much about?”

The elevator man, Jimmy,

knew my name!

My dad’s corner office had the most windows,

the biggest desk, too.

My father bragged, “Your daddy runs this joint!”

From his window, as it got dark,

we could see Manhattan laid out in front of us

like a glittering tablecloth.

How could I not remember?

It was a perfect day,

until he turned the key in our front door.

Mother was waiting.

We were in for it.

A breeze pushes the fumes against my face.

He snuffs out a butt, then lights another,

says, “Look, kid, smoking’s a dirty habit.

I’m going to quit soon.”

“Teach me to smoke!” I say.

His eyebrows meet above his nose,

and as the tip of the cigarette burns,

it sends smoke into the clear night

like a signal.

Maybe, across the Harlem River

someone will see it,

realize we are signaling: Help!

“Let me try it, please? I want to be like you!”

“No, you don’t! Not now, not ever.”

“But, Dad, at least I should know

what I’ll be missing for the rest of my life.”

He smiles so wide, I can see his molars.

“Well, you’ll never know about the future,”

he says, ominously.

I grab his arm.

“Tell me the truth.

Are you thinking of leaving?”

“Leaving what?”

“Dad!”

“What?”

“Us! Please! Please don’t leave!

You can’t. I mean it!

She hates me.”

“Calm down, Maisie,” he says.

My voice crackles.

“I’m just telling you, if you go,

she’ll put me in the ground.”

He ruffles my hair

as if I am being amusing.

I want to scream.

“You think I’m a rotten kid, too?”

“You’re a great kid, Maisie.”

“I’m trying to reform, Dad.”

“Maisie, honey,

I like you exactly the way you are:

spirited, smart, your own person.”

“Being my own person

is treacherous,” I say.

He turns to me.

“Are you working me over?” he asks.

I know not to answer.

“Okay, you poor kid, one puff.

I’ll give you one shot at it

but you have to do exactly what I say.

You have to learn how to inhale, okay?”

I do have to learn how to inhale.

How to breathe,

as if I belong here on the earth.

I look at his face,

think how I’m glad that he breaks the rules.

He says we’re alike.

That must be why I’m the way I am,

as my grandma likes to say,

always flirting with disaster,

as if disaster were my middle name.

“When you smoke,

you take in the deepest breath

as if you have to last underwater

without air.

Then, you keep it in

as long as you possibly can.”

“But you don’t do that, Dad.”

“I’ve been smoking a long time, kid.

Ready?” he says, and lights a fresh one.

I sit up tall under the stars,

put my feet on the bench,

straighten my back

so I can always remember

this moment, me and my dad,

on the same wavelength.

Me, trying to figure out

if he wants to protect me

while he’s teaching me to smoke.

How about telling me about school?”

He sighs, offers the cigarette.

“It has its moments,” I say,

and close my lips around the tobacco,

inhale really, really deeply.

I am about to show him the bruises

I still have on my arm,

but then the smoke curls in my chest,

which immediately wants to explode.

“Hold it in,” he commands.

“Don’t let it out.”

Finally my mouth opens

because I’m coughing and gasping.

It feels like some kind of torture.

The taste is nasty.

“It’s awful!” I cough.

“It tastes horrible, feels horrible.”

I’m practically crying.

“So disgusting! How could you?!”

My dad laughs.

“Well, now you never have to do it again!”

I dash inside, refuse to speak to him

for the rest of the night.

“I’m done with you, Dad!”

He laughs!

Later he knocks on my door,

takes my hand.

“Between you and me,

if anything ever happened—

not that it will—in the leaving department,

wherever I’d go,

you’d be coming with me, kid.

I promise.”

I throw my arms around him.

Later I will drift off wondering

how much warning he’d give me.

And what about my brother?

Author Bio:

Barbara Bottner has written about 50 books for children of all ages. In May, her first YA novel in free verse, I Am Here Now is coming out from Macmillan (Imprint) She's written a NY Times Bestseller, as well as staffed prime time sit-com, sold screenplays, published essays and short stories in both national and literary magazines and reviewed children's books for both the NY and LA Sunday Book Review. Many of her works have been multiply translated and animated, and adapted for short plays. When she was an animator, she won "Best Film For TV" from the Annecy International Animation Festival. When very young, she briefly appeared on stage and in Europe with La Mama Plexus and in television movies. She teaches writing for children privately but won The Distinguished University Teaching Award from The New School For Social Research. Her papers are collected in the Arne Nixon Center for Children's Literature at Fresno State.

Former students include: Lane Smith, Robin Preiss Glaser, Peggy Rathmann, Bruce Degen, Barney Saltsburg and Antoinette Portis.

She feels blessed to have a passion that seems to stick with her no matter how the larger world goes out of control.

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***Book Blitz*** The Hollow Gods By A.J. Vrana (The Chaos Cycle Series, #1)

The Hollow Gods
A.J. Vrana
(The Chaos Cycle Series, #1)
Published by: Parliament House
Publication date: July 28th 2020
Genres: Dark Fantasy, Magical Realism, New Adult

Isolated in the forests of Western Canada, Black Hollow is a town with a dark secret. For centuries, residents have foretold the return of the Dreamwalker—an ominous figure from local folklore said to lure young women into the woods with the help of wolves, and possess them. Yet the boundary between fact and fable is blurred by a troubling statistic: every now and again, women do go missing. And after they return, they almost always end up dead.
When Kai wakes up next to the body of a recently missing girl, his memory blank, he struggles to clear his already threadbare conscience. Miya, a floundering university student, experiences signs that she may be the Dreamwalker’s next victim and finds herself caught between a supernatural kidnapping and a senseless murder. And after the death of a young patient, crestfallen oncologist Mason embarks on a quest to debunk the town’s superstitions, only to find his sanity tested.
Yet a maelstrom of ancient grudges, forgotten traumas, and deadly secrets loom in the foggy forests of Black Hollow. Can three unlikely heroes put aside their fears, and unite to confront a centuries old evil? Will they uncover the truth behind the fable, or will the cycle repeat?

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—

EXCERPT:

When Miya returned from the dream, her eyes were already open, but she was unable to move—paralyzed even though she was wide awake. Her heart crashed against her ribs, and her breath caught in her throat, every tendon and muscle taut with desperation. She couldn’t open her mouth, scream, or even gasp for air. All she could do was look right in front of her.
The phantom woman from the dream hovered directly above her, her face inches away as she mirrored Miya’s prostrate form. Miya could see the mask clearly now—a hard, bone shell, shaped like a raven’s beak. It extended down her face in a sharp V, past her lips and over the edge of her chin. The mask was decorated with gleaming black and purple that swirled together like oil and water, slick against the smooth, flawless ivory. Her lips—quirked at the edges—descended towards Miya’s.
Miya squeezed her eyes shut, trying to kick and thrash—whatever she could do to get away. Her skin crawled with spiders, invisible parasites burrowing their way inside her until she was unable to fight the fear any longer. Miya implored the spectre, bargaining with the only thing she felt the woman might want.
I’ll go back to the dream, Miya told her. I’ll follow you—wherever you want. I swear. Please, just let me go.
Air rushed down Miya’s throat with such force that her lungs burned when she finally managed to gasp. Her eyes shot open, beads of sweat trickling down her face as she tore over every inch of her room. The apparition was no longer there.
Miya’s hand twitched as she flexed her fingers, testing her ability to move. She breathed in again, this time slower, willing herself to stop shaking but with little success. She’s no longer here, Miya repeated. Her mind was racing, her senses screaming, but she had, somehow, regained control.
Miya sat up, remembering what it was like to be inside her own body. She had the distinct sense of having gone somewhere she shouldn’t have—somewhere she risked never coming back from. A bizarre thought to have about a nightmare, but Miya knew in her bones that this was more than a dream. She’d looked into Medusa’s eyes and barely evaded turning to stone.
For a brief moment, the fog lifted, and she remembered the events of her first dream—the one that came before last night’s. Not only that, her knowledge of the fable had returned. In a frantic tumble, Miya threw herself at the bedside table and reached for her journal. She couldn’t afford to forget again; she had to write it down. She needed to know what came next. But the second the tip of her pen connected with the paper, Miya had no idea what to write. She stared down at the lines, her mind as blank as the page in front of her.
The dreams and the fable were gone.

Author Bio:
A. J. Vrana is a Serbian-Canadian academic and writer currently residing in Toronto, Canada with her two rescue cats, Moonstone and Peanut Butter. Her doctoral research focuses on the supernatural in modern Japanese and former-Yugoslavian literature and its relationship to violence. When not toiling away at caffeine-fueled, scholarly pursuits, she enjoys jewelry-making, cupcakes, and concocting dark tales to unleash upon the world.

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***Book Blitz*** I Kissed Alice By Anna Birch

I Kissed Alice
Anna Birch
Published by: Macmillan
Publication date: July 28th 2020
Genres: LGBTQ+, Romance, Young Adult

For fans of Leah on the Offbeat and Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me, Anna Birch’s I Kissed Alice is a romantic comedy about enemies, lovers, and everything in between.
Rhodes and Iliana couldn’t be more different, but that’s not why they hate each other.
Rhodes, a gifted artist, has always excelled at Alabama’s Conservatory of the Arts (until she’s hit with a secret bout of creator’s block), while Iliana, a transfer student, tries to outshine everyone with her intense, competitive work ethic. Since only one of them can get the coveted Capstone scholarship, the competition between them is fierce.
They both escape the pressure on a fanfic site where they are unknowingly collaborating on a webcomic. And despite being worst enemies in real life, their anonymous online identities I-Kissed-Alice and Curious-in-Cheshire are starting to like each other… a lot. When the truth comes out, will they destroy each other’s future?

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—

EXCERPT:

Iliana
It was the end of our junior year when everything between Rhodes and me came to be as it is now.
It was May, and we were at a pop-up installation on the edge of campus. Clouds of heavy, weed-scented smoke hung up around the light fixtures of an old gas station with bars on the windows, and rain was falling in through a spot where the roof had caved, leaving puddles on the dirty tiled floor.
Behind each ancient cooler door was an installation: women with tape over their mouths. Women with their hands bound. Women dressed like schoolgirls, and dressed like moms, and dressed like frumpy old ladies with curlers in their hair. There was a gas station attendant behind the dilapidated old counter, a girl barely older than us with shiny red lip gloss and breasts begging to escape from a Play- boy Bunny costume. Word around campus was that participants had to be eighteen so they could sign the liability waiver provided by the lead artist.
Men wandered from one cooler to the next, shopping quietly, selecting someone to take with them along with six-packs of beer and packs of beef jerky.
Rhodes and I had become friends, sort of.
We weren’t talk-on-the-phone friends, or even text-on-occasion friends.
But Sarah had been my best friend since the third grade, and Sar- ah and Rhodes had become completely symbiotic during their first and second years as roommates at the Conservatory. It had taken weeks of begging for Sarah to even suggest to Rhodes that I come along—no matter what I did, Rhodes thought my work was “pedestrian.”
She didn’t think I’d understand the show—called Quickies at the Kwickee Mart, clever them—or that the art installation would speak to me the way it spoke to her and Sarah.
But by some force of nature, I had been the one to win a scholar- ship at the Savannah College of Art and Design only a week before. My art wasn’t an existential crisis played out with paint and canvas, and it didn’t make any grand political statements, but it was going to pay for my college—and apparently it meant I was allowed to play with the big girls now. Only two days later, Rhodes invited me along herself.
A week after that, we stood side by side, stoned out of our minds and attempting to make sense of the little theater that played out in front of us. Some of the girls in the cases were seniors at the Conservatory, and I knew about half of the people standing around us from campus as well. The rest were unimaginably sophisticated, worldly looking artist types—people with ink-stained hands and tattoos that crept up from under the collars of their shirts and onto their necks.
If my perception hadn’t been completely altered, I would have thought to be a little embarrassed by my own clothing choices. I felt so metal sneaking out in my tattered-on-purpose Slipknot T-shirt and my tattered-on-purpose acid-washed shorts and my tattered-on-pur- pose pink-and-white-striped tights.
“It’s, like, feminism—” Rhodes said.
Her brows were knit together; her cogs were turning.
She didn’t understand. I didn’t want to tell her otherwise, to ruin the night like I always do. It wasn’t enough to say it was about “like, feminism.” Anything can be about feminism, because in everything there’s an imbalance of power. There will always be one person in the room that has more privilege than the rest, and that person is almost always an Ingram.
It didn’t surprise me that Rhodes didn’t understand then, and it doesn’t now—she doesn’t really know what it means to be a little further down the food chain than everyone else. I’m not much further down than she is—I’m just as white, Christian-adjacent, abled, and straight-passing as she is—but I’m aware of it.
“Yeah, just, you know—” Sarah’s pupils were blown out. She held on to me for dear life, the way Rhodes’s barely-younger brother and then-dance-track student, Griffin, clung to Rhodes’s arm. Sarah liked Griffin then—she was infatuated, really. I think she thought he’d be an easy segue into being a fixture in Rhodes’s life forever.
She thought wrong.
“The motherfucking patriarchy,” said Griffin.
The motherfucking patriarchy. As if that phrase in and of itself wasn’t the purpose of the installation, the fact that women are continuously victims of sexual violence in Western culture, so much so that it has permeated our patterns of speaking and even the way we curse.
Rhodes sighed, and nodded appreciatively. Sarah sighed, and nodded appreciatively. Griffin sighed, and nodded appreciatively.
This is art, they communicated, with stoops in their shoulders and ennui-burdened frowns. This is life.
This is suffering.
Pot only ever makes me more philosophical. Everyone around me was melting into puddles, and I was practically writing ninety-nine theses on third-wave feminism on the back of a fifteen-year-old Kwickee Mart napkin that had been stuck to the bottom of my boot.

Author Bio:
Anna Birch is the author of I Kissed Alice. She was born 'n' raised in a rural area on the outskirts of Birmingham, Alabama. She traded thick forests and dirt roads for the heart of the city, where she lives now with her husband, three children, and dog. She loves knitting, brie, and hanging out with her family.

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***Cover Reveal*** The Six Month By Lease Melanie Munton

The Six Month Lease
Melanie Munton
Publication date: August 18th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Never have I ever…moved in with a guy after dating him for only three weeks.
Just kidding. That’s exactly what I did.
And like most of you are probably thinking, it inevitably blew up in my face when we broke up two days after signing our lease.
Now, I’m stuck living with my ex. The same man who turned my life completely upside down in record time.
For. Six. Whole. Months.
It doesn’t matter how many times he flashes those abs at me after a shower, or how close his bedroom is to mine. I will resist him because he’s simply not the right guy for me.
But if I thought he’d done a number on me before, that’s nothing compared to what happens after I finally learn the secret he’s been keeping from me this entire time.

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—

EXCERPT:

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end for about the seventeenth time in the past twenty minutes. So, I know that West is watching me from his position on the opposite end of the patio, where I know he’s been talking to a cute little redhead for the past four or so minutes.
Not like I’m keeping track or anything.
Not like he’s keeping track of me either.
His predatory eyes have not been stalking me through the crowd, his powerful, agile body moving like a lithe jaguar. Or a sleek panther. He’s not gnashing his teeth at every male who comes within five feet of me. And he’s certainly not resisting the urge to bound over here and piss a territorial circle around me.
He’s like a damn jungle cat.
Every man at this party might as well be his prey. His body language has signaled that he sees every walking penis as a threat. He might as well roar out his possessiveness and declare his rank in the food chain to the rest of the jungle.
When our gazes collide, something distinctly male and dominant gleams from his features. In that moment, I feel like I’ve been marked. Sirens start blaring in my head.
Danger! Danger! Danger!
“Would you please excuse me, Darren? I’m in need of a refill.”
He politely dips his head, just like the southern gentleman I’m sure his momma raised him to be. “Of course.”
Damn, he’s too nice. Why can’t I be into nice? I used to be. What the hell happened?
West.
That prick.
I find a quiet bubble where I can gather my thoughts at the far corner of the house. There’s enough seclusion that no one will accidentally stumble upon me, yet I can still hear the low hum of the party behind me. I’m staring down at my shadow in the grass when someone steps into the path of the patio lights, shrouding my secluded bubble in darkness.
Of course, he would follow me.
Because he’s become an expert at doing the exact opposite of what I want—like leaving me the hell alone. And the way his hulking shadow looms over mine is reflective of how little control I have over the situation.
West is like my own shadow.
Permanent. Trails in my wake. Undetachable.
When I twist around, I take a deliberate step back, needing that distance.
“Looks like I’ve caught myself a little social butterfly,” he grates in a low voice.
His eyes are narrowed. “Let’s talk, Harper.”
I push my hands into the pockets of my shorts, striving for confidence. “So talk.”
He snorts. “While I’ve loved your flare for exhibitionism in the past, let’s keep it private this time, shall we?”
He snags my arm and starts pulling me away from the patio before I can release the mile-long tirade poised on my tongue.
I am not an exhibitionist. We made out in an alley once. And he took some naked pictures of me on his phone once. Pictures he better have fucking deleted, or there’s going to be a nasty castration in his future.
Before we broke up, Sloane and Carter invited us over here for dinner a couple of times, so West knows his way around the property. Which is why he knows exactly where the lush gardens are and how to navigate their maze of foliage. Maintaining his hold on my arm, he drags us down the gravel path until the patio and party are no longer visible through the mass of palm fronds, hedges, and azalea bushes.
The only reason I’ve let him manhandle me up to this point is because I don’t want to make a scene at my friend’s party. I don’t want to be that couple. Not that we are a couple. Not even a little.
But no one can see us now.
And enough is enough.
I rip my arm out of his grip, my feet planting roots in the ground. “Knock it off, West. Isn’t this pissing contest routine of yours getting a little old?”
With his back facing me, he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out. The sight of his broad shoulders rising and falling with the movement mesmerizes me. I remember how sturdy those shoulders were whenever I used them as leverage to grind over his lap. It doesn’t help that the mint green button-down he’s wearing happens to be my favorite shirt of his.
A fact I know he remembers.
When his body whirls around to face me, his eyes are fierce and alert. “When have I ever given you the impression that I need to whip out a measuring stick just to get my dick wet? That pounding my chest and backing down every other man in the room somehow gets me off? Huh? When?”
“Are you serious? Uh, the night at the house in front of Emerson, for one. Tonight, for two.”
“The night with Emerson was about me not wanting to witness, in my own home, how badly other men want to fuck you,” he snaps. “My own friends.”
I swallow.
The edges in his voice are sharp. Sharp enough to cut me if I don’t maintain my distance. Which proves difficult when he starts advancing on me, forcing me to retreat.
“And tonight is about me losing control because I’m being forced to finally accept that other men do want to fuck you.” My back hits a tree. “And will fuck you. At some point in the future, it’s going to happen.” He slaps his hands against the bark, his arms caging me in. “Because I’m no longer the one who is fucking you.”

Author Bio:
Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.
Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it’s boring to only stick to one sub-genre! From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.
Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

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***Book Blitz*** Hasty By Julia Kent (Do-Over Series, #4)

Hasty
Julia Kent
(Do-Over Series, #4)
Publication date: July 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

AN ALL-NEW STANDALONE FROM NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR JULIA KENT
I never thought my perp walk would lead to true love.
Then again, I never thought I’d be arrested on RICO charges and hauled away in zip ties on camera for the world to see, minutes after closing the most amazing deal of my career.
And all of it in front of my biggest viral, billionaire wunderkind Ian McRory.
I am broke.
I am disgraced.
I am alone.
I am a sucker.
But the worst part? I have to go back to my hometown and live in my bedroom filled with relics from my childhood.
Lisa Frank never made me so mad before.
Just when I needed a rescue, I got one — in the form of help from my biggest rival.
He can’t bring back my money.
He certainly can’t bring back my reputation or my pride.
But there’s one thing he can bring back to me.
A sense of hope.
Maybe even love.
Ian sees something in me no one else does, and he’s relentless about making me see it, too. As we grow closer, I’m starting to see that while my entire life used to be a lie, the truth is staring me in the present — and it’s a truth I like very, very much, hot eyes and gorgeous smile and all.
But I have to be careful.
I can’t be too —
That’s right.
Hasty.
The final book in the USA Today bestselling Do-Over Series (Fluffy, Perky, Feisty), as Mallory’s sister, Hastings “Hasty” Monahan gets her turn at a happily ever after that starts off with an arrest.
Hers.

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—

EXCERPT:

Today is the best day of my life.
I know people say that, and they mean it, but they don’t mean this. My best day is better than anyone else’s. Trust me.
I know.
I’m sitting at a table at Essentialz, a five-star restaurant in San Francisco. Everyone at the table watches me as I tuck the signed paperwork away in my black Bottega Veneta woven leather brief bag.
I, Hastings Monahan, just signed a nine-figure investment deal on behalf of the venture capital firm I work for.
Full partner, here I come.
Of course, lawyers will handle the majority of this. The signatures are symbolic as much as they are legal. But the fellow diners at my carefully crafted table will go back to China with an exciting opportunity for their company, Zhangwa Telecommunications, to enter the North American market with climate-change technology projecting yields that are the best aphrodisiac ever.
As I sip from my glass of Montrachet Grand Cru, I catch the eye of Ming Bannerton, a consultant with Zhangwa whose father is a high-ranking U.S State Department official in China, a woman who has a hunger for financial success that I can spot in anyone in three seconds flat. There’s something special about a fellow hustler–and when I use the word hustler, I don’t mean it pejoratively.
People who hustle get things done.
We connect. We network. We pattern match. We ruthlessly apply what we intuitively feel to what we operationally know in order to produce optimal outcomes.
In short–we hustle.
And we win.
But in competition, there can only be one winner.
One.
Tonight, I’m it.
Her smile mirrors mine, red lips stretched over perfectly white teeth that are as straight as a new picket fence. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but an intensity infuses her. She’s about five years younger than me, with a knowing eye that tells me we need to stay in touch. Someday soon, she may shoot past me, and that’s where all the legwork pays off.
In this business, you network down as well as you network up, if you want to get anywhere.
And the manila folder resting in my brief bag, the one that feels like a warm gold ingot pressed against my lips? That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get somewhere.
“Where is Burke?” Mr. Zhao Bai asks, his head at a slight tilt, a gesture of genuine curiosity as his eyes survey me, looking for information that doesn’t come directly from my mouth. He’s the youngest of the four men at the table, a fast talker who looks around the room like he’s a mob boss. Negotiating with him took a steady hand I didn’t know I possessed, but now I understand.
Burke is part of the deal, and I didn’t realize it.
The contracts are signed, though. That makes my husband an off-the-books addendum. No matter what, this is my accomplishment.
My husband, Burke Oonaj, is one of the hottest market makers in finance right now. Even he will have no choice but to be impressed by the deal I’ve just put together.
But the inquiry about my husband makes my uterus fall.
And it’s not like he’s around to catch it.
“Good question,” I say before taking another sip of wine, needing to buy myself a smidgen of space and time. I only need a split second.
Normally.
For some reason that I can’t explain, my emotions are tangling in my mind, and that’s an unpredictable variable I have to weed out.
Fast.
My heart feels strangely heavy in my chest, a sense of dread filling me that has no right to be here. This is MY night, I tell that sense of dread. This is MY deal. This is my culmination of six years of careful work, all coming together, right now.
Go away, dread.
But Mr. Zhao’s question is a good one, because Burke isn’t answering any of my texts or emails or phone calls, and hasn’t for the last three days.
My husband has disappeared.
Not literally, of course, because husbands don’t just do that. Business travel can be intense. Plenty of stretches of time have gone by without hearing from him. They involved twenty-four hours or less, though.
Not eighty-one hours and thirteen minutes.
Not that I’m counting.
I can’t admit any of this to anyone at this table, of course, so instead, I give what my pattern-matching brain tells me is the optimal answer, designed to make me look good.
“Burke’s fine,” I say with a grin, the glass of wine still full enough to make more sips look like an appropriate response. “He sends his best regards. He would have been here tonight, but… you know.”
Two of the men share a look I don’t like. It’s a fleeting glance, the type that is practiced and meant to look like nothing. You think I’m paranoid, that I’m inventing it all?
Wrong.
I’m in a state of hyperarousal.
No, not the sexual kind. Haven’t felt that in a long time, at least not with Burke. My hyperarousal is based around the stress hormones pumping through me from the excitement of what I just accomplished.
Me. Myself. Alone.
Independent of Burke.
As workday smiles stretch to become the more casual, intimate grins of people enjoying bottle after bottle of excellent wine, I loosen up. The answer I gave them sufficed. We can move on.
My body feels numb and excited at the same time. I’m on top of the world. The pinnacle.
I am Peak Hastings.
Which is why, when the maître d’ approaches my side, I don’t pick up on the gravity of his whisper. No one would. Because learning that my credit card has been declined for this business dinner is definitely not part of the plan, and the areas of my brain assigned to processing language literally can’t comprehend it.
“It’s what?” I whisper, standing carefully, legs still steady, my alcohol consumption measured, even if my tablemates have made their way through more wine than an entire wedding party back home.
The maître d’, José, gives me a wide-eyed but polite look. “I’m sorry, Ms. Monahan. This has never happened before when you’ve dined with us. But the credit card company was very firm. You cannot use this one.”
Mr. Zhao gives me an inquiring look. My stomach sinks. Did he overhear?
“Will you all excuse me?” I tell them, hating the disruption, my legs turning into two steel beams covered in chilled skin.
“Something must be wrong with the credit card processor,” I snap at the maître d’ as I hurry away from my group. I want to get the taint of this failure out of the way and get back to my stellar success.
Once we’re out of sight of my table, I rifle through my purse and find another business credit card. “Use this one. And let me be very clear, to you and to your boss, that this is absolutely, abjectly unacceptable.”
He inserts the card, chip side in. “I realize this, Ms. Monahan, but we cannot…”
Beep.
He stares at the credit card terminal.
I read the display upside down. “Declined!” I hiss. “This is impossible! That card has no limit!”
“Perhaps you’ve had your identity stolen, or there are fraud alerts on your account? Perhaps you’re the victim of a financial crime?” José suggests.
“I can’t be the victim of a financial crime!” I snap at him. “I’m a financial expert! This doesn’t happen to people like me. Here!” I shove a third company card at him. This one better work.
I only have one more.
My mind races ahead, conjuring contingency plans, even as my cheeks burn with shame.
Shame.
Why would I feel shame for someone else’s mistake? And yet, there it is, and I have to override it fast. Because if I don’t, it gets a toehold.
And that is the fastest way to lose your edge.
José closes his eyes and lets out a sigh through his nose, a split second before the display terminal beeps.
Again.
“Your computer system is down,” I declare, pulling out the fourth card and my phone, texting my office manager. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe José is right. Maybe we were hacked. But this is surreal enough to let the dread come inside me and have a seat, as it decides whether to become an overnight guest.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m staring at a mid-four-figure bill that I owe, right now, and have no way to settle.
This cannot be happening.
As he runs the fourth card, the main door opens. My spine straightens, calves stretching tall, and not just from the five-inch heels I’m wearing.
I know that man.
I hate that man.
And he’s the last person on Earth I want to see in the middle of this debacle.
Ian McCrory cannot see me like this.

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 19 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing in 2020 and beyond.
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.

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***Book Blitz*** The Deception Incident By Marla Holt (The Incident Series, #2)

The Deception Incident
Marla Holt
(The Incident Series, #2)
Publication date: July 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Her life is stabilizing and his is spiraling while they both keep secrets. 

Minnie Halvarson moved to Kansas to start over. She wanted to be anonymous, live a simple life, and heal from her past. When Bryant Wilder walks into her bookstore, she thinks she’s hit the boyfriend jackpot. What more could she want than a tall, bookish man who worships her?
Until Minnie finds out he’s dating mega pop star, Van Birch and cuts all ties with him.
Bryant Wilder is a humble Kansas contractor by day and Van Birch’s fake boyfriend whenever she needs him to bel. At first Bryant is happy to do it, but after five years, he is tired of dodging paparazzi and keeping his hookups on the down low.
Bryant wants more.
Who he wants is Minnie. But she won’t even look at him.
Now Van is back in Wellville, and has adopted Minnie into their friend group, Bryant is just as smitten with her as ever. Maybe if she hadn’t just had a baby, he’d actually have a chance.
The Deception Incident is the second book in the Incident Series. Dig into this steamy, instalove, secret baby romance with a guaranteed happily ever after by Marla Holt.

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EXCERPT:

Bryant thought he might have died. On some level, he knew he lay in bed next to the voluptuous woman he’d been lusting after for weeks. That was the only way to account for the otherworldly satiety that had him feeling as though he’d left his body behind altogether and reached some other level of consciousness.
His mind was not functioning. Bryant couldn’t form thoughts, couldn’t speak words. This tiny woman, whom he’d thought so shy when he’d first met her, had rocked his world. It was as if her touch had electrocuted him onto a new plane of existence, because he was certain that he was no longer the same Bryant Wilder he had always been an hour ago.
Was that even possible?
The only thing he was sure of was that as soon as his body rematerialized and his thoughts could coalesce into coherence, he was going to have a new obsession. This woman. She was going to be the undoing of him.
The first conscious thought he had that didn’t have to do with the freewheeling pleasure centers in his brain was that he had to tell Van.
Telling Van what was harder to grasp. That he’d just had the most amazing sex of his life? Sure, he’d guess that might be something they’d discuss, but it wasn’t what he wanted to talk to her about. He couldn’t articulate why. He and Van talked about everything.
Then Minnie stirred in his arms, and Bryant fell back into his body. His limbs were heavy, his muscles relaxed, and he thought maybe he had been asleep for a little while. He didn’t remember getting rid of the condom, but he must have at some point. All there was in his memory was his skin on Minnie’s in a chilly room. He pulled her closer, not sure if they’d knocked all the covers to the floor or if the bed was still made.
Minnie rolled in his arms so her breath tickled his ear, then she skimmed her finger tips up his arm and over his collarbone. She scratched in the three day’s worth of stubble on his chin, then trailed up to tap on the hinge of his glasses.
“You still have your glasses on,” she said, a giggle in the back of her throat.
“Of course,” Bryant said. His voice came out in a decidedly unsexy croak. “I needed to be able to see every expression you made, every sensuous writhe, every shudder of delight, and I’m blind without my glasses.”

Author Bio:
Marla Holt believes in second chances, romance, and the radical notion that everyone deserves a happily every after. She's living her own fairy tale, writing contemporary romance novels in her Kansas farmhouse with her husband, three boys, three cats, and flock of imaginary sheep. Follow her at marlaholt.com or on Instagram as @marlaholtauthor

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***Book Blitz*** Savage Beginnings C. Hallman & J.L. Beck (The Moretti Crime Family, #1)

Savage Beginnings
C. Hallman & J.L. Beck
(The Moretti Crime Family, #1)
Publication date: July 31st 2020
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Romance

It started with a single look… my obsession, my desire, and need to possess the sweet, and incredibly naive Elena Romero.
Dark raven hair, and piercing green eyes. She would make a beautiful bride.
Ten-millions dollars and a forced signature later and she was mine.
Like a thief I came in the dead of night and stole her away from her protected castle and placed her in a gilded cage made of gold.
The deal had been settled.
She would become my wife.
She would bear my children.
She would bend to my will.
But most importantly she would help me destroy the man she loved most. The man who took everything from me: her father.
*This is a dark mafia romance that contains mature themes, graphic violence, and sexual content. This is a complete standalone that ends with a happily ever after. 100,000+ words long. There is NO cheating either.**

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EXCERPT:

I’m so nervous for the rest of the day, I can’t even concentrate on math. I can’t shake the feeling that Marie is in danger and that it’s my fault.
When Julian finally comes to get me for dinner, I’m on pins and needles. As soon as he walks in, I bombard him with questions.
“Is she okay? Marie, I mean. You didn’t do anything to her, right?”
“Why would you ask me that? I told her it was fine to come in.”
“I thought…”
“You thought I killed her?” He arches a brow in questioning.
I feel ashamed to admit it, but nod since there isn’t any point in lying to him. Julian is cruel, sinister, and I know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone. Man or woman.
“I didn’t kill her… but your concern for her well-being is interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Maybe that’s not the right word. Convenient would be better.”
“What that’s supposed to mean?” I’m almost afraid to find out.
“At the event I’m taking you to, I need you to behave. I need you to act a certain way and do things you might not want to do, but you will do them because if you don’t, Marie might get hurt.” The words slowly enter my mind, and I piece the puzzle together.
“You’re using her against me,” I growl angrily.
“Yes, but I will not harm her if you behave, and I will reward you. I will give you more freedom. All you have to do is prove yourself to me.”
“Prove myself? What does that even mean?” I toss my hands into the air. “I’ve never done anything for you not to trust me. I’ve played all your games, never fought you on anything. I let you keep me in your bedroom without complaining. I think I’ve proven myself enough… maybe you are the one who needs to prove himself to me.”
As soon as the last bit leaves my mouth, I regret saying it. Not because it’s not true, but because I don’t want to provoke Julian.

Author Bio:
J.L. Beck is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, she has written over fifty different romance novels. She started her journey of writing back in 2014 and hasn't slowed down a second since then.
She's captivated by real romance, and loves reading about strong "ALPHA" males, as well as sassy heroines that know or may not know what they want. She is best known for delivering a happily ever after but has ended things on a cliffhanger a time or two.
When she's not typing away at her next book you can find her being a mom to her two adorable kiddos and wife to her high school sweetheart.
She's obsessed with Starbucks, social media, and is definitely more of a dog person than cat.

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Born and raised in Germany, Cassandra moved to the United States when she was eighteen. She always had a love for reading, that love slowly transpired into writing. She put fingers to the keyboard and started writing about the dark side of romance.
Cassandra is one half of the international bestselling author duo Beck & Hallman, who are most knows for the writing the Northwood University series.
The pair also write under the pen name Jenna Reed.

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