Monthly Archives: September 2014

Release Day for ONE FUNERAL

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It’s the release day for One Funeral the second book in Kat and Stone Bastion’s No Weddings Series. There is a special price for the release AND you can get the digital copy signed for a limited time!!! So check it out and make sure to enter the awesome giveaway!! 🙂
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Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | One Funeral Goodreads

 *** PLEASE NOTE ***

Scorching (explicit) sex scenes. Fire extinguisher highly recommended.

*** The No Weddings Series Release Dates ***

No Weddings ~ Sep 8th
One Funeral  ~  Sep 29th
Two Bar Mitzvahs ~ Oct 20th
Three Christmases ~ Nov 17th

EXCERPT:  ONE FUNERAL

We stepped out into the main room, which was done up just like a funeral viewing, from the spray of flowers at the front to the rows of uncomfortable-looking chairs. And of course, there was a huge ornate cross up on the dais, but then again, we were in a church.

Okay, this isn’t so bad. It’s a funeral.

After a quick scan of the room, I saw Cade. He looked miserable until the moment his gaze locked onto mine. Then he dropped his head, slumping in shame.

I burst out laughing.

Drawn to him, I crossed the room without a second thought. “Nice tie.”

He tugged at the bright collar at his neck, grumbling, “Don’t forget the cummerbund.”

That’s nothing. Look at me.” I plucked at the shiny, pink fabric. “Isn’t this the most ghastly thing ever to be called a dress? It’s a monstrosity in taffeta.”

He backed up a step, making a show of visually drinking in my entire body from head to toe. “I don’t know, Maestro. All I see is a burlap bag.” His eyes flickered with heat. “And petticoats.”

My legs bounced with sudden excitement, and I forced air out of my lungs on a slow exhale. Cade did things to me—heated, body-rocking, mind-spinning things—and I wanted unlimited amounts of that kind of medicine tonight.

How ironic. I wanted some of Cade’s wild-and-crazy to calm me.

I need you tonight, Cade. This whole” —I gestured frantically to my outfit, then his— “getup is freaking me out a little.”

He put firm hands on my shoulders, staring hard at me. “A little?”

I thought about the great strides I’d made in therapy and how what I believed became reality. I was stronger than a bridesmaid dress. I’d learned how to separate my present from my past in therapy, and there was no way I was going to let all of that progress unravel now.

Tonight, in a bright pink bridesmaid dress, I made a vow to myself to enjoy the present moment.

I tilted my head and shook it. “No, I’m okay. Even if what I’m wearing is a travesty.”

He pulled me closer and held me against his solid chest, wrapping his arms around me. “But I liked the whole ‘I need you’ part. What if I never leave your side tonight? Would that help?”

I nodded.

Done.” He pulled back. “So to clarify the details, if I have to lift and hold your petticoats while you pee, will you lift and hold something when it’s my turn?” Wicked eyes glittered down at me.

I gaped. “You are not lifting anything of mine while I pee.”

But I’m never leaving your side tonight.”

I cast him a sidelong glance, grumbling, “What did I just agree to?”

He chuckled, flagging down a waiter who held a tray of filled Champagne glasses. “Something very interesting from my point of view.” He grabbed two glasses. “Here, drink up. The night is young, and I intend to accompany you to no less than three bathroom trips.”

I jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “Pig.”

He coughed until his shoulders shook from laughter.

I swiped a glass from his hand and glared at him while I drank down the liquid courage, not yet caring that it would make his petticoat-lifting wishes come true.

He slid his hands into his pants pockets, rocking back on his heels, as the corners of his lips twitched. “Actually, I’ve been told I’m hung like a horse.”

I sputtered, choking on my Champagne.

He grinned. “Care to confirm?” He chugged his glass, a crime with the ten-dollars-per-swallow Cristal. “I’ll keep up with you. Then we’ll each fulfill our end of the bargain. Lift and hold. Keep practicing the technique in your mind.”

I am not holding…there’s no way I’m touching…”

Cade grinned and leaned down, brushing his lips along my jawline. His hot breath fanned an erotic path up the side of my neck until a kiss caressed my ear. “My massive cock?”

My breaths came in short bursts, my heart racing. All I could think of now was Cade’s massive cock. And all I wanted to do was see it. Touch it.

I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath as aching heat pulsed between my legs. When he pulled back, I stared at him. All I could manage was a nod.

What was I nodding to? That yes, I did want to touch it? My thoughts fuzzed.

That’s right, Hannah. We both know you want to, now. I hope it’s the only thing you think about all night.”

I forgot everything I’d been worried about. Oh, I was still stuck in my head all right. But my thoughts had definitely guttered. All I could think about now was petticoat lifting and other…huge…things. When the waiter went by again, I grabbed another Champagne flute.

Cade barked out a laugh, grabbing another too. He held it up near mine for a private toast. “To adventures together no matter where we go. Most especially in the bathroom.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we clinked glasses to the most ridiculous toast ever. And yet I couldn’t wait for the adventures to begin.

Most especially in the bathroom.

Kat Bastion with Stone Baston 

Award-winning and bestselling romance author Kat Bastion has teamed up with her husband Stone Bastion to create the new contemporary romance series No Weddings.

Kat and Stone live amid the beautiful Sonoran Desert of Arizona. Visit their blog atwww.talktotheshoe.com, website at www.katbastion.com, and their Twitter accounts athttps://twitter.com/KatBastion and https://twitter.com/StoneBastion for more information.

UNSTOPPABLE

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If you haven’t read the Beachwood Bay or The Callahan series, you are missing out!  UNSTOPPABLE is Book 3 in The Callahan series…I recommend reading them all if you like hot guys and strong women in your romances…and a little spice in the bedroom, if you know what I mean!! 🙂

Here’s an excerpt:

Who2

“My daddy always told me, you could never run out of second chances…”

Tegan Callahan has sworn off bad boys for good. Growing up on tour with her rock star brother, she knows first-hand the damage they can do. She’s looking for a nice, safe, stable guy – until a chance encounter with a devastatingly sexy stranger makes her question everything she thought she wanted.

A troubled soul…

Ryland James arrives in Beachwood Bay on the run from his mistakes. He knows he’s the last thing Tegan needs, but somehow, he can’t stay away. There’s something about her fierce beauty that draws him in – and makes him vow to protect her, whatever the cost.

A passionate destiny…

Their bond is undeniable; the stakes, higher than ever. But the past won’t stay gone forever, and soon, Ryland must make the ultimate choice: will he risk everything he treasures in the world, or keep Tegan safe – and sacrifice her love forever?

9781286940385

Purchase on Amazon: amzn.to/1xGpci

Melody Grace is the New York Times bestselling author of the Beachwood Bay series. A small-town girl turned SoCal beach lover, after spending her life with her nose in a book, she decided it was time she wrote one herself. She loves steamy romance novels, happily-ever-afters, and lusting after fictional menfolk. She is author of USA Today & international bestselling Beachwood Bay series.

 

Cover Reveal-FRENCH KISSED by Chanel Cleeton

FrenchKissed

On the surface Fleur Marceaux has it all—if only the façade matched reality. With one year left at the International School in London, Fleur’s struggling to graduate, her love life is a mess, and she can’t stop thinking about Max, her ex-boyfriend’s best friend. But all of that pales compared to the blackmailer determined to destroy her.

There’s a social hierarchy at the International School, and Max Tucker is outside the velvet ropes. After watching Fleur break his friend’s heart, Max knows to stay away from trouble—despite the crush he’s had on her since freshman year. But when they’re partnered on a project, Max learns there’s more to Fleur than meets the eye, and she just might be worth the wild ride.

The more time they spend together, the further Max falls. And when a kiss awakens a passion Fleur never imagined, she’s unable to resist Max, who she thought was wrong for her, but might be the only thing that’s right.

  But will he stand by her when her secrets are revealed?

Don’t miss the final book in the International School series. This New Adult romance is recommended for readers 17 and up.

Beautifu attractive young brunette woman in fashionable dress walking in park.
French Kissed by Chanel Cleeton
Release Date: December 1, 2014
New Adult Contemporary Romance
International School Book 3
 
FK Cover Reveal Teaser
Want to see where it all began?
 
I SEE LONDON (International School Book 1)
 
LONDON FALLING (International School Book 2)
 

 

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Originally a Florida girl, CHANEL CLEETON moved to London where she received a bachelor’s degree from Richmond, The American International University in London and a master’s degree from the London School of Economics and Political Science. Chanel fell in love with London and planned to stay there forever, until fate intervened on a Caribbean cruise, and an American fighter pilot with smooth dance moves swept her off her feet. Now, a happily ever after later, Chanel is living her next adventure in South Korea.

Law school made Chanel realize she’d rather spend her days writing sexy stories than in a courtroom, and she hasn’t looked back since. An avid reader and hopeless romantic, she’s happiest curled up with a book. She has a weakness for handbags, her three pups, and her fighter pilot husband. Chanel writes New Adult contemporary romances and thrillers.

She is the author of I SEE LONDON and LONDON FALLING, published by Harlequin HQN, the upcoming FRENCH KISSED, and FLIRTING WITH SCANDAL, the first book in a new three-book NA series to be released by Penguin/Berkley in 2015.

 

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Claire Ashby on Writing

Claire AshbyToday I’m interviewing Claire Ashby, author of the debut novel WHEN YOU MAKE IT HOME. It’s a love story about a wounded warrior and a pregnant bookstore owner…only the baby isn’t his.

I asked Claire her feelings on being a “real” writer now that she has her first book published.

Becoming a Real Writer

Since the release of my debut novel, WHEN YOU MAKE IT HOME, I’m often asked when I started writing. My first response is to discuss when I began writing that novel, but I also have the infamous drawer novel. Then I get to thinking about the stories I worked on while I was pregnant with my children. I never count those, because they were in a spiral notebook and I wasn’t serious about those stories. I only wrote for me.

And before that, years before that, I had another project, but again, I didn’t take myself seriously. The concept of being a published writer seemed too far away and dreamy, so I wouldn’t dare tell anyone I wrote novels, and I most definitely wouldn’t call myself a writer.

And even before that, can I tell you what I did? I wrote an epic book series. Trust me, it was fantastic. But it was all in my head. I had worlds mapped out. Conflict, plot, desire, resolution. It was all there…in my imagination. However my imagination wasn’t so big I could believe I was a REAL writer.    When-You-Make-It-Home-800 Cover reveal and Promotional

What is a real writer?

Here’s the truth: If you have a story to tell, it doesn’t matter if you believe you can be a writer or not. Just tell the story. Put it on paper and don’t think about reality. Don’t worry about what happens along the way; just keep writing the story.

Trust me. It’ll be epic.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/When-You-Make-It-Home-ebook/dp/B00LRKU6KQ/

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Debut Novel: Wounded Warrior Meets Bookstore Owner***WHEN YOU MAKE IT HOME***

When-You-Make-It-Home-800 Cover reveal and Promotional

Meg Michaels, a bookstore owner, has already walked away from two cheating exes. She’s learned her lesson and has her mind set on success—until she gets knocked up. Embarrassed and unwilling to discuss her situation with friends and family, she wears layers to hide the pregnancy.

When Meg gets sick at a party, she’s mortified. Even worse, Theo Taylor, the guest of honor, discovers her secret. Theo, an Army medic wounded in the war, agrees not to reveal her condition, and the two forge a bond of friendship that blossoms into love.

Theo is soon filling all of Meg’s late-night cravings—and not just the pregnancy-induced ones. But can their love overcome all the obstacles that stand between them and creating a happy family?

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 Excerpt: The bedroom door banged open, and I jumped, expecting Jake or Ellie. Instead, Theo lumbered in on his crutches and slammed the door behind him.
“Excuse me, do you mind?” I tugged my top in place to cover myself, but Theo’s gaze
took in my bare skin. He watched my movements closely and locked the door. For some reason I
flushed and grew warmer as he came closer to the bed. Could he want to trap me? Of course, the
thought was ridiculous. I was pretty sure my small, five-foot-five-inch, exhausted, knocked-up
self could plow through a one-legged boy covered in bandages if I wanted to get out of there badly enough. The thing was—I wanted to stay.
“Give me a break.” He hobbled to the king-size bed without looking at me then propped his crutches against the wall before falling back onto the mattress. “You think you can hide in here all by yourself?” He hauled what was left of the lower half of his body onto the bed. A flash of pain crossed his bronzed face. Closing his eyes, he lay back on the striped navy sham. He ran his good hand through spiky hair the same tawny brown as the week-old scruff on his face. “Hit the light on your way out,” he barked.
“Hey, I was here first, and I was just about to rest there. Ellie told me I could.” I smacked a hand over my mouth. “Wait… I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Theo lifted his head off the pillow, squinting from the overhead light. He peered at me in a slow, thorough inspection that left me fighting not to squirm. “Well, Jake told me I could crash here. Turn off the light and come on.” He patted the bed next to him. “Forgive me—I didn’t notice you’re expecting.” He rolled his eyes. The breath shot out of my lungs, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach as if I could hide the truth.

“Stop looking at me,” I said, making my way to the light switch. Although he’d draped his tan, muscular arm across his forehead, I sensed his eyes tracking me. I pictured my belly growing with each step, the truth transparent. I switched off the lights.

The sun was on the other side of the house, and fading afternoon light glowed in the room.
I went back around the bed and paused, not sure I really wanted to get in with this hostile-looking guy who had spent recent years surrounded by sand and weapons.

Theo glared sideways at me. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not about to make a move on
some pregnant chick. Either get in or get out—I don’t care.”

My mouth fell open. “Oh… you think I think…” My voice quivered, so I stopped and
tried another tactic. “I don’t…” More quivers. I forced out the only response I could manage. “Whatever.” I snatched my heels off the floor, ready to go home.

“Wait. What are you doing?” Theo scrubbed his hand over his face. “Don’t go.” His tone
softened. “I shouldn’t be alone right now.” He was giving me those big, puppy-dog eyes, but I could see his smirk.

“What? Now you want me to stay?” No more quivering. The words flowed when the
focus was on him. “What’s with you?” I itched to make a run for it, but even so, he intrigued me.

“Cut a guy some slack, will you? My social graces are rusty.”

“Oh, please! I’ve been warned not to give you anything that might resemble sympathy.”

“I don’t want your pity.” A spark flared in his eyes. “Are you always this sassy, or is your
condition playing with your hormones?” He had a full-on grin, his white teeth gleaming.

 His audacity got the best of me. “Shut up, or I’m going to take your crutches when I leave.”
My threat only made Theo roar with laughter, infuriating me more.
“You’re a bad girl, teasing a hurt man. Just get in bed—you look tired. I’ll leave, if you really want me to.”
I gave in because he was right: I was worn out. “No, don’t go.” I dropped my shoes, went to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in, staying as far away from him as I comfortably could. “Let’s call a truce. I’ll stay over here, you stay over there.” I settled the plush bedding around me and rolled over to face his direction. The visible side of his body was flawless.
“Fine, but you better not snore or I’m going to flatten a pillow over your head.”
I stifled a giggle. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
He jerked his head toward me, eyeing me suspiciously. “What did you expect?”
“I just thought a war hero would be nice.” I yawned.
“I’m not nice enough for you?” His voice, low and smooth, did nothing to hide his amusement.
I relaxed, sinking in the mattress. “No, you’re a total asshole.”
The bed shook with his laughter. “Well, at least you’re honest, but don’t call me a hero.”
I heard the smile in his tone, but my eyes were closed. I really should have just stayed in bed today, I thought, drifting off to sleep.
***
My eyes were open before I realized I was awake. Theo, bathed in moonlight, lay stretched out on top of the covers next to me. “You don’t have a ring on.” He searched my eyes.

“I gave it back when I cancelled the wedding. Bradley wanted me to keep it…” I looked at my bare hand in the dim room. My ring finger felt naked without the karat-and-a-half, princess-cut diamond. Sometimes I still caught myself rubbing the area, searching for the phantom ring. “But I couldn’t.”

“So what, you didn’t want a shotgun wedding?”

“Wait. Bradley’s not the father.” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth.
His eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and he grinned again.

“So you are a bad girl.”

BUY IT NOW:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/When-You-Make-It-Home-ebook/dp/B00LRKU6KQ/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22383783-when-you-make-it-home

Author page on RAP:  http://redadeptpublishing.com/claire-ashby/  Claire Ashby

MOST WANTED SERIES by J. KENNER

Most Wanted


Slider image for Wanted by J. Kenner

 

The Men

Evan Black. Tyler Sharp. Cole August.

Brilliant, fierce, determined. Sexy as hell. And utterly dangerous.

They make their own rules, find their own way, and to hell with anyone or anything who tells them otherwise, be it a cop, a court, or a woman.

They’ve spent over a decade watching each others’ backs, protecting each others’ secrets, and relying on each others’ talents.
They’ve taken risks, said “fuck you” to the law, and made a tidy profit in the process.

There’s not a scheme they’ve concocted that they haven’t pulled off, not a desire they haven’t achieved.
And there sure as hell isn’t a woman they’ve pursued that they haven’t caught.

None, however, have captured their hearts.

None, until now.

The Women
Angelina Raine. Sloane Watson. Katrina Laron.

Three completely different women, each with a unique way of looking at the world.
Each with secrets and ambitions she holds close to her heart.

And each more than capable of standing on her own two feet.

None are looking for a man. But whether because of lust, greed or duty, each woman finds herself in a forbidden bed with the one man
capable of crashing through her defenses and taking her—both physically and emotionally—to her breaking point and beyond.

It’s a dangerous game—and what’s at stake is everything.

Buy links here:

 
 
 
Random House
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Books-A-Million
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Release Day Launch for Chelsea Fine’s RIGHT KIND OF WRONG!

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I am so excited to bring you the Release Day Launch for Chelsea Fine’s RIGHT KIND OF WRONG! Published by Grand Central Forever, RIGHT KIND OF WRONG is the third novel Chelsea’s Finding Fate Series and is a New Adult Contemporary Romance.
Check out the excerpt below and enter the giveaway!

 

Right Kind of Wrong

Amazon ** Barnes and Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo Indiebound ** BAM

EXCERPT:

Padding my bare feet back into Jack’s bedroom, I start riffling through his drawers like a wet raccoon, searching for something that can pass as pajamas. I try on four pairs of basketball shorts and two shirts before finding items small enough to fit me without being obscene.

I’m not a small person—not at all. I’m average height, average weight. It’s just that Jack’s a giant who, apparently, wears size 100 in everything. Twisting the shirt around my middle so it hangs properly, I absently inhale and smile when I catch Jack’s scent.

What? No. Don’t smile about that, you idiot.

I unclench my fists from his shirt and smooth out the wrinkles I created clutching it to my nose. I’m not like a wet raccoon at all. I’m worse. Raccoons would be ashamed of me.

My inner dialogue—I’ve just accepted that I’m certifiable, at this point—comes to a halt when I hear an engine in the front yard.

Jack.

My first instinct is to run outside and smack him—you know, violent tendencies and all—but I regain my composure and choose a more mature tactic.

I stand perfectly still in the dark living room and wait for him with a scowl.

Through the window, I watch his dark figure stumble out of the car and slowly climb the front steps all hunched over. What did he do, go get drunk? Great.

I cross my arms, scowl still poised to kill, and wait as he opens the door and quietly steps inside. He flicks on the living room light and I ready myself for the shit storm I’m about to rain all over his ass. But my words, my anger, my bitter intentions fall away the instant I see his face.

“Jack.” It’s more of a gasp than a word as it leaves my mouth.

He pulls his eyes up from his bloody and torn hand, and sets them on me. “Jenna. What the hell?” Several emotions cross his eyes. Anger. Fear. Relief. Anger.

I pull a face. “Don’t ‘what the hell’ me. You’re the one who stole my car and drove off into the night.”

He screws his face up. “So you waited up to yell at me?”

“Well…” I pause.

Is that why I waited up? Well, crap.

“Yeah,” I finally say, not particularly proud of my answer.

“Typical,” he mutters. “Listen. I’m not in the mood to bicker with you right now so if you don’t mind rescheduling this bitch-out for tomorrow, that would be great.”

He brushes past me, his shoulder lightly sweeping mine, and halts at the touch. Facing me, he softens his husky voice. “I’m sorry.”

Long eyelashes lower over his storm-gray eyes as he searches my face, and the wicked wildfire inside me instantly reignites as his gaze drops to my mouth.

The thick frustration that filled the room just moments ago thins into a sweet trepidation, curling around us with a daring charge. So delicious. But so dangerous.

I carefully step back and clear my throat. Jack does the same. We’re masters of avoidance.

Without another word, he moves past me and marches down the hall. That’s when I spy the blood running down the back of his shirt from a large gash between his shoulder blades.

My heart stops.

“Jack?” I say, staring with wide eyes. “What happened to your back?”

He looks over his shoulder and frowns. “Oh. That.” Turning back around, he continues striding down the hallway. “Knife wound.”

Tattooed beautiful woman in old spooky interior

RIGHT KIND OF WRONG Synopsis:

Sometimes wrong can feel oh so right . . .

Jenna Lacombe needs complete control, whether it’s in the streets . . . or between the sheets. So when she sets out on a solo road trip to visit her family in New Orleans, she’s beyond annoyed that the infuriatingly sexy Jack Oliver wants to hitch a ride with her. Ever since they shared a wild night together last year, he’s been trying to strip away her defenses one by one. He claims he’s just coming along to keep her safe-but what’s not safe for her is prolonged exposure to the tattooed hottie.

Jack can’t get Jenna out from under his skin. She makes him feel alive again after his old life nearly destroyed him-and losing her is not an option. Now Jack’s troubles are catching up to him, and he’s forced to return to his hometown in Louisiana. But when his secrets put them both in harm’s way, Jenna will have to figure out how far she’s willing to let love in . . . and how much she already has.

 

Author PhotoABOUT CHELSEA FINE:

Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchin.

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** YouTube ** Instagram ** Author Goodreads ** RIGHT KIND OF WRONG Goodreads

 

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