*Blog Tour*

*Blog Tour*

THEN-YOU-HAPPENED-KRISTY-BROMBERG

 

 

“Bromberg is the master of making hearts race and pulses pound.”  -Jay Crownover, New York Times bestselling author

 

 

Then You Happened, an all-new small-town stand-alone romance from New York Times bestselling author K. Bromberg, is available now!

 

 

Synopsis

 

Jack Sutton was the man I didn’t want to need.

His know-it-all attitude. His annoying suggestions. His outlook on life.

He was determined to help me while I had resolved to figure it out on my own.

But he taught me things I’d forgotten.

How to trust. How to believe in myself. Who I was.

The problem?

I went and fell in love with him.

Tatum Knox was the disaster I should have walked away from.

Her ruined reputation. Her failing business. Her chaotic life.

She hated me at first sight and yet intrigued me all at the same time.

I was only supposed to be there for six months.

I was supposed to use that time to make amends for things I’d done wrong.

Instead, I fell in love with her.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost, then not to have loved at all. Does that hold true when the love is based on a lie to begin with?

 

 

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(THEN YOU HAPPENED is a STANDALONE enemies to lovers, small town romance. Full-length at one hundred and seven thousand words)

 

Facebook-banner-available-now

 

 

Download your copy today!

 

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Excerpt

 

“Just face it, Knox. You’re head over heels in love with me.” Jack finally smiles, dimple winking and those eyes lighting up as he takes a step toward me, holding the scoop to his chest. “You can’t be near me because you want me, and you can’t talk to me because you get all flustered and tongue-tied.”

“There is nothing about you I find attractive,” I lie.

He places the scoop in my hand but doesn’t let it go when I try to take it. “It’d be much easier and a whole lot less distracting if I could say the same of you.” He lets go of the scoop and dips the tip of his hat in an aw-shucks kind of way. “But I’m not one to lie.”

Our eyes hold across the short distance as his comment floats through the air and fades like the dust specks dancing in the sunlight.

“That won’t work, you know?” I say.

“What won’t?”

“You trying to charm me every time you want something. I know your kind, Jack Sutton, and I’m not impressed by them.”

“Is that so?” He shifts on his feet and adjusts his hat before re-crossing his arms over his chest. “And what kind is that?”

“A man who uses his good looks and smooth words to get his way with people. A man who turns on the charm to disguise it.”

His eyes darken and then narrow. “Just like you’re the woman who keeps living her privileged life . . . fiddling while Rome burns down around her?” he counters, making me want to scream that he knows nothing about me or how I live or what I’ve been through for the last year. A small part of me is shouting about how that was his point, but I tell the voice to shut up. “And if by good looks and smooth words, you’re implying I’m like Fletcher, I suggest you not infer that again.” That muscle in his jaw feathers in contempt.

“I’m not the woman you think I am.”

He twists his lips and stares at me in a way that feels like he is seeing right through me. It’s unnerving and unsettling, and I force myself not to look away because his silence is telling me that maybe he thinks I am.

I’m not sure why that bugs me. Why I want him to see me as someone different.

“I’m not even certain you know who that woman is either.”

 

 

About K. Bromberg

K. Bromberg Author Photo

 

 

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels—Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)—and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

 

 

 

Connect with K. Bromberg

 

 

Website:  http://www.kbromberg.com

Facebook:  http://bit.ly/2QYIfBC

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2sVi7Qe

Instagram: http://bit.ly/36ywE2S

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Stay up to date with K. Bromberg by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

 

*Blog Tour*

*Blog Tour*

WeekendWife FOR WEB

 

“The perfect, irresistible romantic comedy!”

 —Erin Nicholas, New York Times bestselling author

 

Weekend Wife, an all-new sassy and quirky stand-alone rom com from New York Times bestselling author Erin McCarthy, is available now!

 

 

Synopsis

 

Billionaire businessman in need of a fake fiancée…

It should be the easiest job ever for an out-of-work actress, right?

All I have to do is pose as Grant Caldwell (the Third)’s fiancé for a fancy-pants weekend in the Hamptons. Easy. Wear designer clothing and sip champagne? Don’t mind if I do. Flirting with Grant? It’s so delicious I should be paying him.

Nothing can go wrong as long as I can just keep my hands off of him.

But that’s the hard part. And I do mean hard.

Because Grant is sexy.

And bossy.

And surprisingly sweet, a real rarity in his pretentious family.

Oops. I’m not as good at faking it as I thought. Or maybe they call this method acting. Because it’s getting harder to figure out where my character ends and I begin…

It just might be the role of a lifetime.

 

 

WW - AN

 

 

Download your copy today or read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2vCLc3P

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3b9dbZs

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2u3DcbV

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/397Id21

 

Add WEEKEND WIFE to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/35JEWEF

 

 

Excerpt

 

I looked at Leah. “Sorry about that. I am not filthy rich.” I actually was, but I felt compelled to be modest. “I’m just rich.”

“Oh, yeah? Well… I think everyone’s definition of filthy is different.”

And just like that, Leah took an awkward moment and made it flirtatious. Her voice was low, breathy.

Green light. That’s what that was. And I was hitting the gas and plowing into the intersection.

I eyed her. “What do you know about filthy?”

I had leaned closer to her, turned slightly, my thigh brushing against the fabric of her skirt. Her lips were a ripe raspberry color and she had a divot in the base of her chin that made me want to kiss it. Her chest rose and fell beneath her tight sweater with a quick rhythm, like she was turned on. Intrigued. Contemplating her move. She opened her mouth, gaze sweeping over my lips, and for a second I thought she was going to move close enough that I could kiss her.

Instead, she held my gaze, all seduction and skill, while her hand shot out and tucked the cash into the breast pocket of my suit. She grinned and turned back to the front, smug.

Damn.

“Nice acting skills,” I told her dryly. Leah, starring in the role of femme fatale, and I’d fallen for it.

“Thanks. I’m working on eye contact.”

I was working on blue balls.

She was cute and clever. Fuck.

I knew a couple of women who wanted exactly what I did—no-strings-attached sex. No one got offended if months went by without contact and it was just as likely they would text me as I would text them. I didn’t get… ensnared. Leah could ensnare me. It might be time to send out a sexual SOS. I needed zero contact with Leah after today. She wasn’t good for my concentration. But I did admire both her boldness and her talent.

“That was savage,” I told her. “I love it.”

“I need a distraction from the fact that my ankle seems to have a heartbeat and half the ice has melted so now my sock is damp.”

Right. Her busted ankle. That was the relevant issue at hand, not my dick.

“You really should elevate your ankle. Turn a little.”

Surprisingly, she obeyed me. I dug my way through all that fabric and hauled her calf and ankle up onto my lap. I also tucked the hundred bucks back into her skirt pocket. She didn’t seem to notice and just cleared her throat.

Leah bit her bottom lip. “This is weird,” she said. “I don’t think you want my damp sock on your pants.”

There were so many things I wanted to say. All of them inappropriate as fuck.

What I settled for was, “Don’t assume what I want.”

 

 

About Erin

 

Erin McCarthy

 

USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Erin McCarthy sold her first book in 2002 and has since written over seventy-five novels and novellas in the romance and mystery genres. Erin has a special weakness for high-heeled boots, martinis, and Frank Sinatra. She lives with her renovation-addicted husband (he built her a bar, so it’s all good!) and their blended family of kids and rescue dogs.

 

Connect with Erin

 

Facebook: http://bit.ly/39K0yDk

Instagram: http://bit.ly/37EuvCQ

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2ZWtdQT

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2QtYjMD

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Stay up to date with Erin by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2tYmOsP

Website: https://erinmccarthy.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Blog Tour**

**Blog Tour**

Resurrection_ecover

 

 

 

“I devoured Resurrection in one sitting. It was sinfully sexy, dark, and taboo. I can’t wait for the next book. I might have begged Siobhan for it already.” Ava Harrison, USA Today bestselling author

 

Resurrection, the first in the all-new dark, reverse harem series The Sainthood-Boys of Lowell High from USA Today bestselling author Siobhan Davis, is available now!

 

 

A new dark romance from the USA Today bestselling author of the Rydeville Elite series.

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

Everything changed the night my dad died.

The night I met Saint, Galen, Caz, and Theo.

Those manipulative a-holes set out to ruin me after our hot night together, but they didn’t realize you can’t destroy something that’s already broken. And it only works if the victim cares.

Which I don’t.

Because I’ve been in hell for years, and nothing penetrates the steel walls I’ve erected.

Until The Sainthood decides I belong to them and cracks appear in my veneer. Their cruel games, harsh words, and rough touch awakens something inside me, and now, I’m in trouble.

They draw me deeper into their dangerous world, until I’m in the middle of all the violence and gang warfare, tangled up in all the secrets and lies, and there’s no turning back.

Because they own me.

And nothing has ever felt so right.

I’m exactly where I should be.

But with enemies on all sides, survival becomes a deadly game with no guarantees.

And, sometimes, saints become sinners.

 

 

Resurrection_IGquote

 

 

Due to mature content, this book is recommended to readers aged eighteen and over. This is a full-length reverse-harem dark romance novel with enemies-to-lovers/bullying themes. It cannot be read as a standalone and ends with a cliffhanger. Book 1 of 3.

 

 

 

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Resurrection - AN

 

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Rgimi1

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/Resurrectionsd

Add Resurrection to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/37h6YYW

 

Pre-order Rebellion, the highly anticipated second book in The Sainthood-Boys of Lowell High Series, releasing April 10th!

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Ug2FJN

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/rebellionsd

Watch the trailer: https://smarturl.it/ResurrectionTR

 

 

Excerpt

 

The three guys are squished in the back, and Galen sends daggers at me through the mirror as I bite into my burger. I chew my food, and he glares at me the whole time. When I’ve swallowed, I swivel in my seat, the leather squelching with the motion. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

He sits up straighter, leaning forward so he can pin me with the full extent of his hatred. “Your very existence annoys the fuck out of me. That good enough for you, angel?”

Saint rolls his eyes as he starts the car and glides out onto the road.

“You just need to skullfuck the shit out of someone,” Caz says, and every pair of eyes lands on him.

Saint smirks, Galen snarls, and Theo is passive. As usual.

Caz beams like he just won a fucking award.

“You are so freaking weird,” I admit, taking another bite of my burger.

Saint watches me eat with a wolfish grin on his face.

“It’s his word of the day,” Theo says, and I arch a brow.

Caz elbows Galen in the gut as he leans toward me, his warm brown eyes lit with excitement. “You know what the Urban Dictionary is, princess?”

Now, it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Well, duh,” I mumble over a mouthful of burger.

“Caz is addicted to it,” Theo continues explaining.

“And he drives us fucking insane,” Saint cuts in. “He picked skullfuck from the list of trending words this morning, and he’s been trying to fit it into the conversation all day.”

I finish my burger, crumple up the empty paper bag, and throw it on the floor of Saint’s pristine new ride. The wolfish grin vanishes from his face, and I silently fist pump the air as I turn to face Caz. “I think that’s pretty cool. And I’m game to play.”

The goofy smile on his face matches the smug glint in his eyes as he flips Saint off. “The princess loves my geekiness. I’ve just died and gone to heaven.”

 

 

About Siobhan

 

sd author photo version 2

 

USA Today bestselling author Siobhan Davis writes emotionally intense young adult and new adult romantic fiction with swoon-worthy romance, complex characters, and tons of unexpected plot twists and turns that will have you flipping the pages beyond bedtime! She is the author of the international bestselling Kennedy Boys, Saven, and True Calling series’.

Siobhan’s family will tell you she’s a little bit obsessive when it comes to reading and writing, and they aren’t wrong. She can rarely be found without her trusty Kindle, a paperback book, or her laptop somewhere close at hand.

Prior to becoming a full-time writer, Siobhan forged a successful corporate career in human resource management.

She resides in the Garden County of Ireland with her husband and two sons.

 

Connect with Siobhan

 

Subscribe to romance newsletter:            http://smarturl.it/KennedyBoysList

Amazon Author Page:                               http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisAmazon

Author website:                                         http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisWebsite

Goodreads profile:                                    http://smarturl.it/SiobhanGoodreads

Facebook page:                                        http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisFacebook

Twitter profile:                               http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisTwitter

Author Blog:                                              http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisBlog

BookBub Author Page:                             http://smarturl.it/SiobhanDavisBookbub   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blog Tour with Excerpt

Blog Tour with Excerpt

The Billionaire's Forbidden Little Sister Official Cover - Copy

 

 

Question: What do you do when you fall for your best friend’s little sister?

More important question: How long can you keep it a secret before it all goes up in flames?

 

 

 

The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister, an all-new hot and hilarious brother’s best friend rom-com from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

 

 

Theo Cruz, a New York man known for his family’s billion-dollar empire, Cruz Enterprises, has been indicted this afternoon in the Court of Public Opinion on charges of Bro-Code Conspiracy.

 Chief counsel for the prosecution, Caplin Hawkins, spoke candidly about the accusation.

 “Once thought of as a best friend to many—including myself—Theo Cruz has officially turned his back on human decency. He’s conniving and dishonest, and a habitual offender of Bro-Code Law 676. He’ll rue the day he forgot that you never—under any circumstances—get involved with your best friend’s little sister.”

 

 

Fact: I haven’t actually been arrested or indicted.

More important fact: I inadvertently messed up—big-time.

Two strangers in a foreign country, we said hello.

Hello turned into a kiss.

A kiss turned into a rendezvous.

And a rendezvous turned into more than I’d ever imagined.

 

But her unruly golden curls and beautiful body hid an important detail—She’s my mouthiest billionaire best friend’s forbidden little sister.

 

 

Fact: I knew not of my crimes.

More important fact: I know now, but even though I know I’m playing with fire, there’s no way I’m stopping. I can’t leave her alone.

Question: What do you do when you fall for your best friend’s little sister?

More important question: How long can you keep it a secret before it all goes up in flames?

 

 

TBFLS - Teaser 2AN

 

 

 

 

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/33uk2sc

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/BillionaireForbidden

 

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2Bu5KeA

 

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

Lena

 

Two hours and another two shots for Pippa later and she’s in full-on dance mode. Shaking her hips and tits like she owns the joint. It only took one intense shimmy during “Gonna Make You Sweat” to understand what she meant—her boobs, left braless, would absolutely be a lethal weapon. I’m pretty sure the sweat between them even vaporized into a misty Mel Gibson mirage, they shook so hard.

            And not once has she wanted to stop for a break.

            She’s in the running to be the next Energizer bunny, but my bladder is full, and I’m dehydrated. For the love of God, I need something to drink other than Mel-flavored sweat mist and gasoline.

            Thankfully, when Pip spots Sophie and Frederick on the other side of the dance floor, she does some weird version of the robot, spins in their direction, and makes like the wind through the crowd while letting her arms trail behind her.

            It’s so fucking strange, it’s hilarious, and I can’t help but laugh.

            Sophie feels the same, covering her mouth comically as she spots Pippa. I wave my hand, hoping to get her attention, and by some miracle, she spots me through the strobing lights and writhing bodies.

            I jerk my chin and swipe a hand across my chest before tapping the skin next to my eye and doing the walking symbol with my fingers. Sophie nods, interpreting my baseball-esque code, regardless of its lacklustre delivery. If I were on the other end of things, I’d be waffling between second and third base right now, trying to figure out what to do.

            “I’ve got her!” she whisper-yells toward me, and the weight of drunken-friend-motherhood lifts off me in a flash. I’m sure my friends with kids would tell me this is how they always feel when they actually make it to the bathroom.

            I didn’t think it was a possibility for a female living on planet Earth, but when I make it to the toilets—as the Italians call them—the line is short and speedy. I’m standing at the bar again, waiting on a bartender to take my order in under five minutes.

            Of course, the bar takes so long, I have to sit down on one of the stools to bide my time. And just like that, the timetable of the universe has been righted.

            While I wait, I glance back toward the dance floor to check on Pip, the dancing queen—who is now showing off her twerking skills to a cute twentysomething guy. If I had to guess based on his appearance, I’d peg him as one of the locals. But for all I really know, he hails from the Jersey Shore.

            Thankfully, Sophie and Frederick are sticking close to Pip’s side, and her dance partner of unknown origin isn’t getting too handsy.

      All is well. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn back toward the bar to resume my quest for a drink and, like magic, lock eyes directly with a bartender.

           Thank God!

            He jerks his chin up to head my way, and I climb to stand on the rung of my barstool with glee.

            But when he’s five steps away, his attention swings back to a point down the bar, and immediately, he diverts.

           What the hell?

            I glance down at my perky, tight-nippled breasts and frown. How in the hell did he see these fuckers and not come in for the landing?

            Annoyed, I follow him with my gaze to what I’m sure must be a woman with three tits and an exposed pussy.

            I pause. Stop. Go completely still.

           Wow. That is definitely not a woman with freakish anatomy. In fact, that’s no woman at all.

            Midnight-blue eyes, a little scruff on his strong jaw, and the kind of lips that I instinctually know will be good at kissing, the man who stole my bartender warrants more than a double-take.

           Hot damn.

            He’s clad in a smart suit but no tie and his collared shirt is loose at the neck but perfectly fitted around the tight, firm muscles of his chest. The suit is obviously tailored and screams of money, but I have a feeling not even gold-plating would be able to disguise the spectacular body he’s got underneath.

            His face is serious—but God, even serious, he is handsome as fuck.

            The urge to find out what he looks like when he smiles is both overwhelming and terrifying. I mean, how would I even quantify anything beyond perfection?

            A shiver runs up my spine. I really want to see what this guy is all about.

            I imagine if I could remember Pippa existed at this point, I’d try to thank her for insisting I celebrate our accomplishments by lifting the man ban for the night.

            As it is, I’m not sure anyone but me and the hottie with the sparkling eyes are left on the planet.

            When he finishes talking to what I can only assume is the bartender who abandoned me, he turns back toward the dance floor and rests his hip against the bar.

            His still-serious eyes scan the joint, moving from the dance floor to the VIP section to the intimate booths scattered along the walls and then back to the line of the bar, all the way back to me.

            My breath catches in my throat when he meets my curious gaze and pauses.

           Yes, please.

            Drink forgotten, I mouth the word “Hi” toward him, and the slight hint of a smile threatens to quirk up just one corner of his lips.

           God, I want to see him smile.

            He mouths “Hi” back before pulling the centre of his bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it back out. One perfect dimple pokes out from his cheek.

           Hell’s bells, that’s one dangerously sexy look…

            Unconsciously, I lick my bottom lip, and without hesitation, he shoves away from his spot at the bar and closes the distance between us.

            “Hi,” I repeat when he stops within hearing distance—and in this club, with this crowd and noise, that’s pretty fucking close.

             With full lips, white teeth, and two dimples, he smiles the sexiest smile I’ve seen in my life at the single-syllable word. And as a bonus, I can see now that his sparkling eyes are midnight blue, like the deepest part of the ocean.

            “Hi,” he responds, rounding out our freak cycle of hellos, and it’s instantly evident he’s an American like me.

            “You should do that more.”

            He raises a questioning brow, leaning just one hand into the lighted marble bar top behind me. It makes his size feel impressive, makes me feel enveloped. My whole body spasms and I take a deep breath to control it. “Do what more?”

            “Smile,” I clarify.

            A soft but deep and raspy chuckle leaves his perfect, kissable mouth. “Who says I don’t?”

            I reach up toward the skin between his brows and his gaze follows my hand sceptically, but he doesn’t back away. “This little, almost nonexistent line right here,” I say softly, running a finger across it.

            His eyes search mine in the kind of hot and sexy way that makes me wonder if my panties are still there, but I do my best to keep my voice even as I explain further. “I bet you furrow your brow all the time.”

            He leans closer to me, and my fingers slide into the lush, dark locks of his hair on accident. “Is that right?”

            “Uh-huh,” I answer simply, unable to form words until my hand finds its way back to the safe space of my lap. It’s purely circumstantial that my fingers graze his cheek and then his neck along the way. I clear my throat and look up to meet his eyes again. “I mean, here you are, in a club, at a bar with beautiful women all around you, and until you came over here, I couldn’t tell if you were having a good time at all.”

            He laughs a little and then asks, “You know what’s funny?”

            Completely oblivious to the answer but equally eager to find out, I shake my head.

            “Neither could I.”

             “And now?” I challenge with one inquisitive eyebrow.

            “Now, I definitely am.”

            I smile then, allowing a cascade of goosebumps to cover my arms from my shoulders to my fingertips.

           Goddamn. He’s trouble, and I like it. In fact, I like it way too much.

            “Well, in that case…” I pause and bite down on my bottom lip. “Since you stole my bartender, I think it’s only fair that you buy me a drink.”

            He searches my eyes, a small smile once again lighting his own. “Stole your bartender?”

            “Yep. Plucked him right from my braless grasp.”

            He laughs again, shaking his head and fighting like hell not to look down. I’m immediately impressed by his level of self-control. Nine out of ten of the men I’ve been within the past would have focused in on my buzzword and failed to look away from it for the rest of the night.

            But not this guy. He’s interested—I can tell by the way his pupils have dilated—but for now, he’s content to focus on my eyes.

            Irony at its finest, as that simple behaviour actually increases his chances of seeing my nipples later.

            “Okay, then. I guess I owe you one. What’s your poison?” That handsome grin of his grows wider, and I swear to God, I can feel it all the way to my damn toes.

      Tell him gin and tonic because it will taste good when you get him to kiss you later, my horny, sex-deprived subconscious instructs.

            The other side of my brain—the rational side—suggests something low in alcohol content—something that promotes good decisions.

            I think it over for a brief moment, scanning the features of his too-handsome face and landing on his luscious smirking lips once again.

            The answer pours out of me like a benediction. “Gin and tonic, please.”

 

TBFLS - AN

 

 

 

 

About Max Monroe

 

A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.

Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favourite writing partners and long-time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favourite adventure thus far. ​

 

 

 

Connect with Max Monroe

 

Website: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/max-monroe

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2ReoxkK

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authormaxmonroe/

Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter

 

 

 

Now Touring!

Blog Tour, Review and Excerpt

 

20190718_DB02_Stud Muffin_Kate_KDP_FINAL

 

 

 

It’s hard to get revenge without getting a rap sheet.

Stud Muffin, an all-new friends-to-lovers standalone romance from Jiffy Kate, is available now!

 

Synopsis

 

After Tempest Cassidy walks in on her husband banging her high school nemesis, her whole world gets turned upside down. She goes from being known as the Duchess of Muffins to the town crazy. Her new MO: revenge. Eventually, Tempest grows weary being arrested. Yet what choice does she have? If she’s not angry, then she’s simply . . . sad.

Just as she decides to get her life back on track, in walks Cage Erickson, the new bouncer at the local strip club. He’s scary-handsome and the polar opposite of her ex. She’s attracted to him, but she’s not looking for a rebound. He’s attracted to her, but he’s not looking for a serious relationship. So, they agree to be friends.

But when lines get blurred in the friend zone, will they both get burned? Or will it be a TKO?

 

Copy of DB02-LIVE

 

‘Stud Muffin’ is a full-length contemporary romantic comedy, can be read as a standalone, and is book#2 in the Donner Bakery series, Green Valley World, Penny Reid Book Universe.

 

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

 

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5 –“If we never give our heart away, we never have the chance to find true happiness”- Stars!

This is definitely one of my favourite reads this year!
The story starts with such shocking devastation for the protagonist.
Tempest is totally blindsided by her husband and his actions.
Everything she thought she knew about him appears to be wrong.
She no longer trusts anybody in her hometown, but more importantly, she no longer trusts herself and her judgement.

Until… along comes Cage.
He’s recently moved to Green Valley to have a fresh start after an injury forces him to retire from MMA fighting.
He’s immediately attracted to Tempest but knows right now she needs a friend more than anything.

This story was a wonderful journey of two people each starting over in their lives and becoming good friends, learning to trust one another, and then eventually learning to love.
Tempest’s journey is one of discovering who she really is.
For her to realize how strong she truly is, that she doesn’t have to settle for anything less than what she deserves, but most importantly, trusting herself and to love again.

I really enjoyed this story, and highly recommend it!

 

 

Excerpt

As Mindy gets closer, she begins rubbing her hand over her belly, ensuring I know she’s with spawn, I mean, child. How far along is she anyway? The picnic wasn’t that long ago and she didn’t look pregnant then, did she? Maybe she did, but I was too shocked by the ring on her finger to notice? My mother would’ve said something to me when she broke the news about Mindy and Asher being married, so she must not have noticed either.

Maybe she just carries big… and early. Maybe she’s pregnant with multiples. That would be rich—I can’t even get pregnant with one, but Mindy Mitchell, husband stealer extraordinaire, can have my husband and all the babies.

All I know is that I have to stop gawking because Mindy is enjoying this way too much.

“Hey, Tempest. Soup for one, I presume?” Her smile is wide and condescending as she glances at the contents of my shopping cart.

Bitch.

“You know, I’ve been so busy lately that canned soup is all I have time for some nights. It’s not always the healthiest option, with all that sodium, but I’m fortunate to not retain water, like you obviously do.”

Really, Tempest? Is that the best put-down you can think of?

“I’m not bloated, silly.” She laughs, swatting the air in front of her face. “I’m pregnant! Of course, I don’t expect you to notice the difference.”

It’s illegal to hit a pregnant lady, Tempest.

 She’s not worth the jail time.

 Deep, cleansing breaths.

You don’t look good in orange.

“How far along are you?” I ask, willing myself to stay calm. “Elephants are pregnant, for what, two years?” I know I’m being immature, but I’m using my words and not my fists, so I’m calling it a win.

“Gah, you’re such a bitch. No wonder Asher wanted to leave you. At least I was able to give him what he wanted,” she brags, rubbing her belly even faster than before.

Maybe if she rubs a little more, a fucking genie will pop out, and I can at least get three wishes out of this deal. Wish one: Asher and Mindy disappear off the face of the planet.

“And,” she continues, “because I know it’s driving you crazy, I’ll let you in on the secret. I’m in my third trimester.” She smiles and squeals, like we’re BFFs and she just told me the best news. “Just a couple more months to go and this precious bundle of joy will be in the world… Asher is going to be such a great daddy.”

The blood drains from my face as I do the math in my head. Asher and I have been divorced for almost two months. I found them in bed together three months before that. Two plus three does not equal the amount of months it takes to be in the third trimester. I know my pregnancy facts.

Mindy just answered one of my many burning questions: that sack of shit was cheating on me months before I busted him.

And now, he’s having a baby with someone else.

Honestly, I don’t know how to feel right now… numb, blind-sided, furious, hurt?

All I know is I’m trying my damnedest not to lose my shit.

Deep breaths.

“Believe me,” Mindy says, breaking through the haze I’m in. “I tried and tried to get Asher to leave you before you found out about us on your own, but he didn’t listen.” She sighs, like she’s disappointed for me… like she’s on my side and she was trying to do me a favor. “Oh, well, life goes on, right?”

We enter into a bit of a staring competition for a brief moment, her bright, smiling eyes against my crazy, sadistic glare. I feel the crazy oozing out of me. When she finally starts to back her buggy up to make a U-turn in the aisle, she has the audacity to smile… and wink at me.

She’s the incarnation of Satan.

Asher and Mindy aren’t going to have a bouncing bundle of joy, they’re going to have a devil love child. I should alert the media. This has a horror movie written all over it.

“See you around, Tempest,” she says over her shoulder, before stopping and turning. “Oh, I guess I’ll see you at the reunion, if not before… and you’re bringing a date, right?”

Deep breaths, Tempest.

I don’t answer her with words, only with my glare, hoping it burns a hole in her skull.

You can do this.

Don’t let that cow win.

After she makes a turn onto another aisle, I take a few more deep breaths, willing my nerves to calm, and when that doesn’t work, I close my eyes and try harder. With my hands on my knees, I suck in air like it’s going extinct. My breathing becomes routine and I automatically start swaying my body in preparation for the Tai Chi moves that come next.

Cage has been teaching me a little bit of Tai Chi to further help channel my anger and anxiety and I have to admit, I love it. Completely forgetting where I am, I begin to perform my favorite combination of steps. If people see me, I don’t care. I’d rather them talk about me doing Tai Chi in the canned goods aisle than losing my shit at the Piggly Wiggly.

I’m finally feeling relaxed and in control of my emotions, so to celebrate my victory, I decide to throw a few punches into the air, similar to what Rocky Balboa did after running up all those stairs in the movie.

I am Tempest Cassidy, master of my emotions.

Thoroughly enjoying myself, I decide to end my impromptu workout with a killer roundhouse kick… right into a tower of Pork N Beans.

At first, it’s only a few cans. I lurch out, containing them in a lunge, looking around to see who might’ve witnessed my performance. Only a lady down at the other end of the aisle seems to be in the know. I breathe out a sigh of relief, feeling uncharacteristically lucky as I try to balance the cans and myself.

Just as I decide it’s safe to stand up, I lose my balance and the cans in my hands take a tumble… and then the entire end cap begins to fall.

Cans.

 Cans of Pork N Beans are rolling everywhere.

When everything finally comes to a rest, I’m sprawled out on the glossy tile of the Piggly Wiggly in aisle six, using my body as a dam to stop them from getting too far. I’m afraid to move… afraid to breathe…

DB02-RBBANNER-SBPR

 

 

About Jiffy Kate

 

Jiffy Kate is the joint pen name for Jiff Simpson and Jenny Kate Altman. They’re co-writing besties who share a brain. They also share a love of cute boys, stiff drinks, and fun times.

Together, they’ve written over twenty stories. Their first published book, Finding Focus, was released in November 2015. Since then, they’ve continued to write what they know–southern settings full of swoony heroes and strong heroines.

 

Connect with Jiffy Kate

 

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Website: http://www.jiffykate.com/

 

 

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Now on Tour!

Now on Tour!

Synopsis, Excerpt, and Order Links

 

 

BoB-ebook-cover

 

 

The Business of Blood, an all-new intriguing historical mystery from USA Today bestselling author Kerrigan Byrne, is available now!

 

 

Synopsis

 

 

London, 1890. Blood and death are Fiona Mahoney’s trade, and business, as they say, is booming.

Dying is the only thing people do with any regularity, and Fiona makes her indecorous living cleaning up after the corpses are carted away. Her childhood best friend, Mary, was the last known victim of Jack the Ripper. It’s been two years since Fiona scrubbed Mary’s blood from the floorboards, and London is no longer buzzing about the Ripper, but Fiona hasn’t forgotten. She hasn’t stopped searching for Jack.

When she’s called to a murder in the middle of the night, Fiona finds a victim mutilated in an eerily similar fashion to those of the Ripper, and only a few doors down from Mary’s old home. The relentless and irritatingly handsome Inspector Grayson Croft warns her away from the case. She might have listened if she hadn’t found a clue in the blood. A clue that will lead her down a path from which there is no return.

As a killer cuts a devastating swath through London, a letter written in blood arrives at her door, and it is only then that Fiona realizes just how perilous her endeavour is. For she has drawn the attention of an obsessive evil and is no longer the hunter, but the prey.

Fiona Mahoney is in the business of blood. But she’s not the only one.

With intriguing twists, blood-chilling discoveries, and dazzling prose, USA Today Bestselling author Kerrigan Byrne shows that a woman’s work is never done, even when is sleuthing out a serial killer.

BoB - AN

 

 

 

 

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2W79Brj

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Excerpt

Aidan stood behind me for a moment, motionless and silent. I could hear every word ever spoken and unspoken between us spilling onto the ground at my back.

“I understand what the years have done to you, Fiona. I know all the reasons you do what you do.” The pity in his voice summoned a scream from deep, deep in my soul, and I swallowed three times to keep it from escaping. “I appreciate that you have to be cold sometimes. But have a care this profession of yours doesn’t make you heartless.”

Heartless.

Struck by an idea, I frantically searched until I found Frank Sawyer’s heart in the centre of the basin. An unceasingly strong muscle upon which one’s entire existence depended. I counted four chambers. Four valves. I stared hard, unblinking in the wan light until Aidan’s retreating footsteps plodded away.

I’d never found Mary Kelly’s heart.

Every single part of her had been catalogued in all its exposed and grotesque exactitude. But not her heart. The Ripper had taken that, along with her life.

I searched for the palpitations to prove Aidan wrong and found them, faint and fluttering, against my rib cage.  I still had a heart, even though he owned pieces of it. And yet, I’d stood over too many corpses of those I loved, each time expecting my bleeding heart to just…stop. It should, I think. When a heart was broken as many times as mine, it shouldn’t work anymore. But somehow, it still did. It kept going.

And so long as it beat in its chamber, I’d search for the Ripper.

 

About Kerrigan

 

Kerrigan has done many things to pay the bills, from law enforcement to belly dance instructor. Now she’s finally able to have the career she’d decided upon at thirteen when she announced to her very sceptical family that she was going to “grow up to be a romance novelist.” Whether she’s writing about Celtic Druids, Victorian bad boys, or brash Irish FBI Agents, Kerrigan uses her borderline-obsessive passion for history, her extensive Celtic ancestry, and her love of Shakespeare in almost every story.

She lives in a little Victorian coast town on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State with her wonderful husband. When she’s not writing you can find her sailing, beachcombing, kayaking, visiting wineries, breweries, and restaurants with friends, and hiking…okay…wandering aimlessly clenching bear spray in the mountains.

 

Connect with Kerrigan

 

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Now on Tour!

Now on Tour!

Shadows AMAZON

 

 

Shadows had it all—a chilling villain, witches, spells, and a captivating romance!” – Jennifer Probst, New York Times bestselling author

 

Shadows, an all-new spine-tingling paranormal romance from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby, is available now!

 

Shadows - AN - Copy

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

 

I am never alone. Not even when I am alone.

I see the unquiet dead, the souls that wander through the French Quarter.

They can’t move on, and I can’t stop seeing them.

I wear malachite for protection, and I control what I let in. It’s the only way to stay sane. Everything changes the day Cassian Winslow joins my ghost walking tour and knocks my world off its axis with green eyes the color of the stone around my neck.

An unspeakable evil is loose in New Orleans, taking young women and leaving a bloodbath in his wake. More shadows lurking for me. More unhappy dead. There might be a way to stop it.

Open myself up to Cassian.

If I do, it could spell his death.

But if I don’t, it’s mine.

Shadows Teaser 1

 

 

Download your copy today!

 

 

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Excerpt

 

“As I was about to walk down the street, I turned, and there was a shadow on the sidewalk. Just standing there. I’ve never seen her before.”

Her?”

“Yeah, she was about my height. Very feminine.”

“Did she say anything?”

“Not that I heard. It just threw me because you know how careful I am about my route. I don’t like surprises, especially not like this. It’s creepy as hell. And, yes, I know I should be used to it by now, but—”

“It’s creepy, like you said.” She leans on the counter and bites her lip, thinking. “It probably means that someone recently died there.”

“I know that.”

“And now it’s a new spirit on your tour. Too bad she didn’t say anything. If she did, you could add it to your show. Could be fun. ‘Lucy was killed in this building three days ago, and her spirit now wanders the sidewalk in front of her former home.’

“Talk about creepy.”

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “Did you sweep this area recently?”

“Is the floor dirty?”

I look at her as if she’s being obtuse on purpose. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s been about a week.”

“You need to do it again.”

Millie frowns, looking around the space. Her shields are as strong as mine, maybe stronger because she doesn’t just see the dead, she feels them, and that’s much more dangerous.

She fiddles with the amethyst around her neck.

“What do you see?”

I narrow my eyes. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

“I don’t want to look, Bri. I dropped my guard for just a second earlier and was slammed with the pervy thoughts of a nineteen-year-old college kid who couldn’t take his eyes off my ass. So, just tell me. Is it the little girl again?”

“Yeah. And she brought a friend.” I reach over to take my sister’s hand. “Don’t drop your shields anymore, Mill. Not for a minute. Ever. I know we live and work here in the Quarter because it’s where we make our living, but it could really hurt us.”

“I know.”

“I couldn’t bear it if I lost you, too.”

Shadows Teaser 2

 

About Kristen Proby

 

Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years.

During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before the dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.

Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published close to thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion Series.

Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their two pugs and two cats.

 

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