New: Cats & Dogs by Jess Molly Brown

 
   Title: Cats & Dogs – Part 1
By: Jess Molly Brown
Publication Date: October 7, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
#catsanddogsrelease
Partial proceeds go to 
Children’s Cancer Charities

Young veterinarian Nathan Brooks spent every childhood summer with his neighbor’s granddaughter Julia Hart. As a small boy, he’d been impressed by her attack on him with a plastic bat after his border collie attempted to eat her kitten. He knew he’d marry her someday. Childish spats evolved into something sweeter until suddenly, cats and dogs didn’t seem so incompatible.

But Nathan’s mother succumbed to cancer and his father and brother took solace in addiction. For Nathan, golden days grew few, and far between. Cast out of his home, Nathan had to make his own way in the world. For the first year, he managed to keep everything together. The year after that, his life fell apart and he left behind the only girl who ever mattered.

Three years after Nathan left her, Julia Hart is living in her grandmother’s house next door. Nathan has returned home to open his own practice.

They have a lot of unfinished business.

Evidently, neither has been able to move on. But what can he offer her? They haven’t spoken since the day he walked out with no explanation, and Julia’s not about to let bygones be bygones. Not after she’s spent three years shoring up the walls around her broken heart. Besides, he’s not exactly convinced he’s the best bet.

But fate has a way of knocking down walls when it gets good and ready. Even if Julia and Nathan are not.

This is the first of two novellas containing animal antics and a second chance romance. Partial proceeds will be donated by the author to children’s cancer charities.

**NOW AVAILABLE**

Partial proceeds go to Children’s Cancer Charities
AMAZON – UK – https://goo.gl/dh2D7z

AMAZON CA – https://goo.gl/UCzgyo

“Julia, you asked me to talk, so please talk to me.”
She sat up tall on the low stool. “Brooks, you want the truth?”
“Please.”
“I am monumentally pissed at you and I don’t know if I can ever get over it.” She tossed back her hair. “You called me your Hart and then you left me. You didn’t fight for us and it totally wrecked me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a little late.”
“Look, I’m not making excuses. I am truly sorry for everything. I wasn’t mature enough to deal with it when everything got shot to shit.”
“That sounds like an excuse to me, Brooks.”
“I’m stating facts. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. First I was a kid clinging to my dying mother’s skirts, and then after she passed, I was overwhelmed.”
“And I was what, just a precocious little girl with a mouth too big for my own good? And yours?” She stuck out her palm. “And don’t tell me my mouth was just the right size for you, smartass!”
Nathan smiled at her with a touch of the old fire. “You were an insanely intelligent, spunky, maddening, gorgeous, lovable young woman. And I suspect you still suffer from word vomit.”
“Well . . .” Jules shrugged a shoulder as Greg knocked and stuck his head in the room.
“Jules, your next victim’s waiting.”

“Okay, thanks.” She stood and searched her file drawers for various handouts, which she gave to Nathan. “I want you to go home and read these while you elevate your feet for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, I want you to start doing these exercises. Don’t be a slacker. I want you back here in three days.”

Don’t be fooled by the seeming tranquility, Jess is scheming. There are a lot of characters in her head and all of them want out.
A best-selling author, she edits for professional authors and is always tutoring somebody. She got her start ten years ago, in Twilight fan fiction, and is proud of it.
Four great kids, one husband *coughbiggestkidofallcough* and two dogs ensure that the house is always messy. The garden’s overflowing with blooms, but weedy. The grass always needs cutting, provided it’s not buried beneath snow. She lives in Canada, eh? The dogs are walked, the kids get fed, the hubbs hasn’t killed anybody yet, the books Jess reads she reviews, and somehow, the people in her head manage to make it into stories. Occasionally, she embarrasses her kids by doing Zumba in front of their friends. It’s just how she rolls.
Come join her quest for world domination at https://www.jessmollybrownauthor.com

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Chapter Reveal: Hooking Up by Helena Hunting

 

 

 

Chapter One

Wedding Unbliss

Amie

This is the happiest day of my life. I allow that thought to roll around in my head, trying to figure out why it doesn’t seem to resonate the way it should. This should be the happiest day of my life. So I’m not exactly certain why the uneasy feeling I associate with cold feet is getting worse rather than dissipating. I’ve already done the hard part; walked down the aisle and said “I do.”

My husband excused himself to go to the bathroom several minutes ago and, based on Armstrong’s itinerary for the day, speeches are supposed to begin promptly at eight-thirty. According to my phone, that’s less than two minutes from now, and he’s not here. The emcee for the evening is awaiting Armstrong’s return before he begins. And then the real party can start. The one where we get to celebrate our commitment to each other as partners for life. As in the rest of my breathing days. Dear God, why does that make my stomach twist?

I sip my white wine. Armstrong pointed out that red is not a good idea with my dress, even though it’s my preference. Besides, I don’t want it to stain my teeth. That would make for bad pictures.

I glance around the hall and see my parents, who are probably celebrating the fact that I didn’t walk down the aisle with a convicted felon. And frankly, so am I. My dating history pre-Armstrong wasn’t fabulous.

The sheer number of people in attendance spikes my anxiety. Speaking in front of all of these people makes me want to drink more, which is a bad idea. Tipsy speeches could lead to saying the wrong thing. I check my phone under the table again. It’s after eight-thirty. The longer Armstrong takes to return, the further behind we’ll get. The music playlist, devised by Armstrong with painstaking efficiency, leaves no room for tardiness. If we don’t start on time I’ll have to take out a song, or possibly two, to compensate for his delay and he’s selected the order in such a way as to make that difficult and that will annoy him. I just want today to be perfect. I want it to be reflective of my decision to marry Armstrong. That I, Amalie Whitfield, can make good choices and am not a disgrace to my family.

“Where the hell is he?” I scan the room and take another small sip of my wine. I should switch to water soon so I don’t end up drunk, especially later, when all of this is over and we can celebrate our lifelong commitment to each other without clothes on. I’m hopeful it will last more than five minutes.

Ruby, my maid of honor and best friend for the past decade, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Would you like Bancroft to find Armstrong?”

Bancroft, or Bane for short, is Ruby’s boyfriend who she’s been living with for several months. Recently I find myself getting a little jealous of how affectionate they still are with each other, even after all this time. Cohabitation hasn’t slowed them down on the sex or their PDA. I have hope that Armstrong and I will be more like Bane and Ruby now that we’ll be sharing the same bed every night.

I’m about to tell Ruby to give him another minute when a low buzz suddenly fills the hall. It sounds like a school PA system. I start to panic—they can’t start the speeches without Armstrong at my side. What’s the point of speeches if the groom isn’t present?

I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to tell the deejay, or whoever is behind the mic, he needs to wait, when a very loud moan echoes through the room. The acoustics are phenomenal in here, it’s why we chose this venue.

I glance at Ruby to make sure I’m not hearing things. Her eyes are wide. The kind of wide associated with shock. The same shock I’m feeling.

Another moan reverberates through the sound system, followed by the words, “Oh, fuuuck.”

A collective gasp ripples through the now-silent crowd. While the words themselves are scandalous among these guests, it’s the voice groaning them that makes me sit up straighter, and simultaneously consider hiding under the table.

“Fuck yeah. Ah, suck it. That’s it. Deep throat it like a good little slut. Fuuuuuccckkkkk.”

My mouth drops and I look to Ruby to ensure I have not completely lost my mind. “Is that—” I don’t finish the sentence. I already know the answer to the question, so it’s pointless to ask. Besides, I’m cut off by yet another loud groan. I clap a hand over my mouth because I’m not sure I’m able to close it, my disbelief is as vast as the ocean.

Ruby’s expression mirrors mine, except hers is incredibly animated since she’s an actress. “Oh my God. Is that Armstrong?” Her words are no more than a whisper, but they sound very much like a scream. Oh no, wait, that’s just Armstrong on the verge of an orgasm. But these sounds are nothing like the ones he makes when he’s in the throes of passion with me.

I clutch Ruby’s hand. The next sound that comes from him is a hybrid between a hyena laugh and a wolf baying at the moon. And every guest at our wedding is hearing the same thing I am. Our wedding. Someone other than me is blowing my husband at my own wedding. My mortification knows no end.

I grab the closest bottle of wine and dump the contents into my glass. Some of it sloshes over the edge and onto the crisp white tablecloth. It doesn’t matter. There’s plenty more where it came from. I chug the glass, then grab Ruby’s.

People lean in and whisper to each other, eyes lift to the speakers. A few people, the ones who are probably just here for the social-ladder-climbing potential, question who it is.

“Is the deejay watching porn?” That comment comes from a table full of mostly drunk singles in their early twenties.

Several eyes shift my way as I carelessly down Ruby’s wine and someone asks where the groom has disappeared to.

The grunts and groans grow terrifyingly louder. This is nothing like what I’m used to in bed with Armstrong. The dirty words aren’t something he ever uses with me, mostly it’s just noises and sometimes a “Right there” or “I’m close,” but that’s about it. He’s never talked to me like he is to the woman currently providing oral pleasure. And I’m very adept at oral. Although with Armstrong it’s very polite, neat oral, with no sounds other than the occasional hum. Slurping is uncivilized and a definite no-no.

I reach past Ruby for the bottle of red since I don’t really give a flying fuck about purple teeth right now. As I sink low in my seat I pour another glass of wine, surveying the people in the ballroom from behind the cover of the centerpiece. The centerpieces are huge and excessive and I don’t like them at all, but at least provides a protective barrier between the guests and my disgust, which I’m certain they must share. He sounds like a wild animal rutting. It is entirely unsexy. I have no idea who he’s getting intimate with, but I’m suddenly very glad it’s not me.

And doesn’t that tell me more about our relationship than it should.

It’s only been about thirty seconds—the most humiliating thirty seconds of my life—before Armstrong comes. How do I know this? Because he says, very clearly, “Keep sucking, baby, I’m coming.”

And “baby,” whoever she is, makes these horrific gurgling noises. It sounds like some form of alien communication. It’s way over the top, and apparently Armstrong is loving it, based on the string of vile profanity that spews from his asshole mouth.

“Holy crap. Is this for real? That was really fast,” Ruby mutters.

I guzzle my glass of wine. Then decide the glass is unnecessary and take a long swig from the bottle before Ruby snatches it away. Wine dribbles down my chin and onto my chest, staining the white satin purple. My dress is ruined. I should be freaking out. But I really don’t care.

“Come on,” Ruby tugs on my hand. “We need to get you out of here while people are still distracted.”

My older brother Pierce and the emcee are standing in the middle of the hall, gesturing wildly to the speakers above us. My other brother, Lawson, is on his way toward the podium in an attempt to do something. I don’t think there’s anything he can do to stop this train wreck from there.

Ruby tugs again, but I’m frozen, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened. Well, I know what’s happened. I just can’t believe it.

The sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes follows. “Thanks for that, now I’ll be able to last later tonight,” Armstrong says.

“What about me?” A female asks. Her voice is nasally and whiny.

“What about you?”

“Well I helped you, aren’t you going to help me?”

“Didn’t you come with a date?”

“Well, yes, but—” God her voice is familiar. I just can’t figure out where I know it from.

“My cousin, right? He loves my sloppy seconds. Speeches are starting. I gotta get back to my ball and chain.”

Gasps of horror ripple through the room, followed by a few giggles. These people really are assholes.

I think I’m going to throw up. I can’t believe he’s going to come out here and pretend nothing just happened. Like some other woman didn’t just have her lips around his cock. His distinctly average cock. Maybe even slightly below average in length, if I’m being one hundred percent honest.

A door opens and closes.

Lawson turns on the mic behind the podium and taps it, sending screeching feedback through the room, making people cringe. Too bad no one did that a minute ago.

Murmuring grows louder and glances flicker to the head table and then away as Brittany Thorton, a seriously skanky debutante, comes strutting through the doors, using a compact to check her lipstick. She’s made it her mission to attempt to get into the pants of half the eligible men in this room. She’s followed, not five seconds later, by a very smug-looking Armstrong.

“I’m going to kill him.” I grab the closest steak knife, but it appears my hasty, and possibly felonious, plan is unnecessary. My brothers leave their respective posts and stalk toward him. Across the room my mother is gripping my father’s arm, whispering furiously in his ear. Great. Just what I need, additional family drama.

“Oh shit,” Ruby gasps.

I follow her gaze to find Bane converging on Armstrong with my brothers. Bancroft is a tank and he used to play professional rugby. I’ve seen him with his shirt off, he’s built like a superhero and he’ll probably crush Armstrong, or at least break something. Possibly multiple somethings.

For a second I consider that Ruby should probably stop Bane from destroying Armstrong’s pretty, regal face, but then I realize I don’t actually care. In fact, the possibility that he might break Armstrong’s perfectly straight nose fills me with glee. Armstrong’s wellbeing is no longer my concern, it’s more about Bane ending up in prison for murder.

“I hope Armstrong has a good plastic surgeon, he’s going to need it once Bane is done with him.” Ruby echoes my internal hopes and her chair tips as she jumps up. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She nods to the right.

I notice my mother and father engaged in a heated discussion with Armstrong’s parents. I really don’t need this right now. Not the drama. Not the humiliation. All I wanted was a nice wedding. Instead I end up with a husband who gets a blow job during our reception—and it’s broadcast to everyone attending.

Ruby urges me into action. “Don’t worry about them. Get your stuff and we’ll get you the hell out of here. I’ll have the limo meet you by the entrance near your bridal suite as soon as I can.”

I nod and stumble unsteadily to my feet, thanks to having consumed the better part of a bottle of wine in the last minute and a half. It’s amazing how ninety seconds can change a person’s entire life.

All hell breaks loose as more men jump in to either pummel or extract Armstrong from the pummeling. I grab my clutch and phone from the table, gather up my stupid, too puffy gown, and head for the bridal suite, where I had prepared for what was supposed to be the most amazing day of my life. And now it’s likely the worst, at least I hope the mortification level I’m experiencing can’t exceed this. I feel like the foulest version of Cinderella ever.

I rush down the empty hall and grab the doorknob as I fumble around in my clutch for the key. I’m surprised when it turns. I thought I’d locked it before we left for the ceremony. Regardless, I need to get away from everyone before I either lose it or commit a felony. Maybe both. Murder in the first. Armstrong will be my victim. And maybe that horrible skank, Brittany.

I thrust the door open and slam it closed behind me, locking it from the inside. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin my makeup. Not that it matters since there’s no way I’m going out there again. I can’t believe my forever lasted less than twelve hours. I can’t believe the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life loving couldn’t be faithful to me for even one day. What the hell is wrong with me? With him? I’m as devastated as I am angry and embarrassed. Once I annul this farce of a marriage I’ll become a spinster. I should probably go ahead and adopt six or seven cats tonight.

“I need to get out of this dress,” I say to myself. I reach behind me and pull the bow at the base of my spine. Instead of unfurling, it knots and I only succeed in pulling it tighter. Of course my dress has to be difficult. I growl my annoyance and rush over to my dressing table where my makeup and perfume are scattered from earlier today. Half a mimosa sits unconsumed beside the vase of red roses Armstrong had delivered.

The card read: I can’t wait to spend forever loving you.

What a load of bullshit. I drain the contents of the champagne flute, not caring that the drink is warm and flat. Then I throw the glass, because it feels good and the sound of shattering crystal is satisfying. Next I heave the vase of roses, which explodes impressively against the wall, splattering water and shards of glass across the floor.

I yank out a couple of the drawers and find a pair of scissors. They actually look more like gardening shears and seem rather out of place, but I don’t question it. Instead I reach behind me with my back to the mirror and awkwardly try to cut myself free. It’s not easy with the way I have to crane my neck.

“Goddammit! I need to get out of this stupid dress!” I yell at my reflection. I think I might actually be losing it just a touch now. I stop messing around with the laces in the back and shove the scissors down the front. I nearly nick myself with the blade—they’re a lot sharper than I realized—but that doesn’t slow me down. I start hacking my way through the bodice; layers of satin, lace, and intricate beading sliced apart with every vicious snip.

I just want out of this nightmare.

Author Bio:

Helena Hunting is the author of The USA Today and NYT bestselling PUCKED Series. She lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes everything from romantic sports comedy to new adult angst.

 

 

Links:

https://www.facebook.com/helena.hunting

https://twitter.com/helenahunting

https://www.instagram.com/helenahunting/

https://www.amazon.com/Helena-Hunting/e/B00HHM5MLQ

 

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Cover Reveal: Cats & Dogs Part 1 by Jess Molly Brown

 
   Title: Cats & Dogs – Part 1
By: Jess Molly Brown
Publication Date: October 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
#cats&dogsrelease

Young veterinarian Nathan Brooks spent every childhood summer with his neighbor’s granddaughter Julia Hart. As a small boy, he’d been impressed by her attack on him with a plastic bat after his border collie attempted to eat her kitten. He knew he’d marry her someday. Childish spats evolved into something sweeter until suddenly, cats and dogs didn’t seem so incompatible.

But Nathan’s mother succumbed to cancer and his father and brother took solace in addiction. For Nathan, golden days grew few, and far between. Cast out of his home, Nathan had to make his own way in the world. For the first year, he managed to keep everything together. The year after that, his life fell apart and he left behind the only girl who ever mattered.

Three years after Nathan left her, Julia Hart is living in her grandmother’s house next door. Nathan has returned home to open his own practice.

They have a lot of unfinished business.

Evidently, neither has been able to move on. But what can he offer her? They haven’t spoken since the day he walked out with no explanation, and Julia’s not about to let bygones be bygones. Not after she’s spent three years shoring up the walls around her broken heart. Besides, he’s not exactly convinced he’s the best bet.

But fate has a way of knocking down walls when it gets good and ready. Even if Julia and Nathan are not.

This is the first of two novellas containing animal antics and a second chance romance. Partial proceeds will be donated by the author to children’s cancer charities.

Don’t be fooled by the seeming tranquility, Jess is scheming. There are a lot of characters in her head and all of them want out.

A best-selling author, she edits for professional authors and is always tutoring somebody. She got her start ten years ago, in Twilight fan fiction, and is proud of it.

Four great kids, one husband *coughbiggestkidofallcough* and two dogs ensure that the house is always messy. The garden’s overflowing with blooms, but weedy. The grass always needs cutting, provided it’s not buried beneath snow. She lives in Canada, eh? The dogs are walked, the kids get fed, the hubbs hasn’t killed anybody yet, the books Jess reads she reviews, and somehow, the people in her head manage to make it into stories. Occasionally, she embarrasses her kids by doing Zumba in front of their friends. It’s just how she rolls.

Come join her quest for world domination at https://www.jessmollybrownauthor.com

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Review + Giveaway: My Image of You by Melanie Moreland

 
  Title: My Image of You
By: Melanie Moreland
Publication Date: September 19, 2017
Publisher: Random House LLC/Loveswept
Genre: Contemporary Romance
#myimageofyourelease

A globe-trotting bad boy chases the one that got away in this addictive novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Contract.

My name is Adam Kincaid, and I’m the best at what I do. After losing my parents, I decided to follow in their footsteps, and now I’m the most daring freelance photographer in the world.

Maybe some think I’m a loner, but I don’t care. All that matters is the shot: braving danger and devastation in search of a single image with the power to tell someone’s story. But as good as I am, accidents happen—and thank god for that, because it’s what leads me to her. . .

Alexandra Robbins. My nurse. My savior.

With her fiery red hair and crystal-clear blue eyes, the camera loves her . . . and I have to have her. We soon find that we’re perfect together. We just fit, physically and emotionally. And yet something isn’t right. Something from her past is haunting her, and no matter what I do to help her break free, I lose her.

Today is the day I try to win her back. Not only do I need an explanation, I need her in my bed once again. I don’t just want a damn picture—I want her. Because what we have is a love that never fades away. . .

MY REVIEW:

This is an exciting adventure and I loved it. Adam has a naughty sense of humour and a reckless streak. Alexandra is quiet with a kind heart. He and Alexandra aren’t much alike; opposites attract. But she brings out all his best qualities.

An event from Alexandra’s past is haunting her, thanks to certain people who won’t let it go. It wakes up Adam’s protective streak, which is swoon-worthy.

There are tons of sub-currents running through this novel. I think it’s my favourite Melanie Moreland novel to date. Five stars.

“There are so many things I want to do with you,” I assured her, and licked my lips as I stared at her, my voice husky. “To you.”

“Tell me,” she insisted, her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

I stepped behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her to my chest. I smoothed my fingers up her arm, trailing them along her skin. Small goose bumps broke out, pebbling the surface as I dropped my head down into her neck, kissing and swirling my tongue. “I’m going to explore you—everywhere. I’ll touch and discover every part of you. I want to know what makes you gasp, what drives you to distraction. I’ll find out what I can do to make you groan and beg me to take you. I’ll know your body better than you do.” I drew her skin between my teeth, biting and sucking. “I want to kiss you . . . taste you everywhere.” I slipped my hands under her shirt, teasing the softness of her stomach and side, stroking upward until my hand cupped her breast lightly. “I bet you taste different all over. Sweet some places”—I dropped my hand down, running it along the edge of her waistband—“musky and tangy others.”

New York Times/USA Today bestselling author Melanie Moreland, lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of twenty-seven-plus years and their rescue cat Amber. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.

While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and also enjoys travelling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.

Melanie delights in a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative storylines to her, often with a large glass of wine keeping her company.

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Coming Soon: Eye Candy Halloween Anthology

 

A frightfully good time! Dive into these Halloween novellas from bestselling authors Tijan, J. Daniels, Helena Hunting, Bella Jewel and Tara Sivec. Featuring stories set in the worlds of their popular series.

EyeCandy (1) (1)

Eye Candy by Tijan, J. Daniels, Helena Hunting, Bella Jewel and Tara Sivec

Publishing Date: September 5th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Tijan’s Fallen Crest crew are back for a weekend of mischief that takes a sinister turn; all four couples from J. Daniels’ Alabama Summer series gear up for Halloween in their own sexy ways, with a special surprise at the end; Helena Hunting’s characters from Shacking Up plan a Halloween gala that features a few ghouls and witches; Bella Jewel brings the chills and thrills in her suspenseful take on Halloween night; and Tara Sivec gathers the Holiday family together one last time as they try to make this ghostly holiday one to remember—or one they’d rather forget…

Cozy up with a mug of hot cider on a dark night and fall under the spell of this Halloween anthology!

EyeCandy-Teaser2

Read Today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2vBbPp8

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2vARMan

iBooks: http://apple.co/2srjMec

Nook: http://bit.ly/2wvgOV4

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2sicBW0

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2wxfl14

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2vB9dHW

About the Authors:

Bella Jewel is a USA Today bestselling author of over 18 e-books, including the popular Alphas Heart eOriginal series with St. Martin’s Press. She lives in North Queensland where she’s working on her next novel.

Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author of the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She lives in north Minnesota.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Tara Sivec is a USA Today best-selling author and the Best Indie Author in the Indie Romance Convention Reader’s Choice Awards in 2014. She lives in Ohio with her husband and two children.

J.Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series, the Alabama Summer series, and the Dirty Deeds series. J grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.

Connect with the authors:

Bella Jewel: http://bellajewelbooks.com

Tijan: http://www.tijansbooks.com

Tara Sivec: http://tarasivec.com

J. Daniels: http://authorjdaniels.com

Review: Mercy by Debra Anastasia

 

 

 

Title: Mercy
Author: Debra Anastasia
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 21, 2017
Blurb
He taught me to kill. Murder is in my blood now. It runs through my veins and though I hide the monster I see in the mirror with ink, it doesn’t keep him from coming out.
My street name is Mercy, but I never show any. Except for her. I watch Becca, though she doesn’t know. She saved me a long time ago; the day my father killed my mother. Her bravery turned her into a target.
My father holds a grudge and knife with the same proficiency, and Becca is the focus of his hatred. And I’m the only monster who can save her.
Purchase Links
$2.99 for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Trailer
My Review

Every time I read one of Debra’s books and think it’s the one I love best, she produces something new I love even more.

A young man called Mercy inhabits the shadows. He’s separated himself from humanity and never lets anyone in. There’s just one problem: he’s in love with a girl who doesn’t even know he exists.

Anyone who loves Beckett from Poughkeepsie is going to love Mercy. I think I love him more than Beckett. I think I love him more than the Phantom of the Opera. Mercy works against the bad guys. He deserves the best and has little chance of getting it, but there’s this aura of hope around him that just won’t quit. Perhaps it’s a very light dose of the hopeful romantic. Whatever it is, I want more of it. Five stars.

 

Author Bio
Debra Anastasia likes to write from her heart, her soul or her butt. The genres she dabbles in are examples of that. There are two paranormal romances in the Seraphim Series and now four contemporary romances
in the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood Series and a stand alone in the same genre, Mercy. Fire Down Below and Fire in the Hole, Booty Camp Dating Service and Beast complete her comedy repertoire. The Revenger, a dark paranormal romance, is finally in the light, and the last, a novella called Late Night with Andres, is special because 100% of the proceeds go to breast cancer research. 
Debra lives in Maryland with her two kids, husband of twenty years and two dogs. The king of the house is clearly the tuxedo cat that is the size of a small donkey. Find about her latest adventures on DebraAnastasia.com
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Review: Sperm Donor Wanted by S L Romines

 

This story is intended for mature audiences due to HEAVY PROFANITY and ADULT SEXUAL CONTENT.

Check out this hilarious new release from romcom writer Author S L Romines. If you enjoy naughty comedy and have the sense of humour of a 14-year-old boy, you don’t want to miss this story.

Sperm Donor Wanted is the ridiculous new romantic comedy by Author S L Romines and it’s now live! So, come on over to the goofy side and get your hillbilly on while you cackle like a wild hyena as you get lost in the story of Gia and Roman and the crazy band of idiots they call friends.

My Review:

It’s always wonderful to see a fanfic author make a big splash in the world of published books, and this book has done very well today, hitting Amazon’s top five in its genres. My congratulations to Ms. Romines.

This story totally delivers on its promise. It is goofy, crude and lewd and absolutely hilarious. I laughed aloud several times and could not tell my children what tickled me. Really, this is much more of a comedy romance than it is an erotica but it definitely qualifies as both.

You will love Gia and Roman. Gia is a woman who knows what she wants: a baby of her own. The first male that pops into her head as a suitable candidate to contribute to this project is her high school crush, Roman. She doesn’t stop to consider why he’s at the top of her list.

Roman has a bad rep with his family. They think he’s some sort of ne’er do well. But he proves to be something entirely different. I won’t say more than that, or it will give away half the fun.

This is a zany read that will appeal to readers of Debra Anastasia, Helena Hunting and Katherine Stevens. Five stars.

 

Synopsis:

/noun/:

White ribbon-like goop that shoots from a dude’s bologna pony when he blows his load.

Also referred to as: super jizz, funky spunk, baby batter, splooge, baby gravy, jerk sauce, salty surprise, penis pudding, nut butter, pecker snot, red eye surprise, tittie dressing, etc…

Call it what you want. All I know is I need it. All of it. A fully loaded turkey baster or a bucket chock full, it doesn’t matter. I need the love liquid, and Roman Blake is just the dude for the job.

When I realized that the woman ditched in front of my house was in fact Gia Avery, it was literally a blast from the past kinda moment. But it was when I found out why she was here that made me nearly lose my shit.

This is the crazy, out-of-bounds, totally insane, whacked out to the core, piss your pants, make-your-mama-scream, funny as hell story about Gia and Roman and what it means to take sperm donation to a whole other level.

Author’s Disclaimer: This book is stupid. No, seriously. It’s stupid, and I think I may have even lost a few brain cells in the process of writing it. It’s downright moronic. You have to be a special kind of person to appreciate this level of dumb. This book is absolutely not intended for the uptight, unhappy, snooty, humor-lacking folks out there. If you do not have the sense of humor like a pack of teenage boys or if you’re missing your funny bone, you should seriously look elsewhere for a more intelligent kind of read because this hot mess is not for you. But if you’re anything like me and find shit funny just for the sake of finding shit funny then you are my spirit animal.

Read Over 1 Million Times Online Worldwide as Sperm Donor Wanted by OzellaMarie.

This story has been re-worked, scrubbed, polished and douched and has been turned into an original fiction for your reading enjoyment!

Happy Reading,

S.L. Romines aka OzellaMarie

This story is intended for mature audiences due to HEAVY PROFANITY and ADULT SEXUAL CONTENT.

Available on Amazon
US: http://amzn.to/2uIAS9q
CA: http://amzn.to/2uPstgh
AU: http://amzn.to/2vIwc0a
UK: http://amzn.to/2wfed3Y

Author Bio:

S.L. Romines is a Romantic Comedy author that lives in a small town in Central California, and if you blink you just might miss it. She resides on a ranch with her family which she lovingly refers to as the funny farm. Between getting dish pan hands, listening to three bickering teenagers, pretending that she’s a gourmet chef (her family would like to disagree), and trying to tune out the sound of twenty-seven deranged Guinea fowl, somehow she finds the time to write about crazy characters that even make her laugh till she cries.

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Review: So Good by Nicola Rendell

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

 

Max

As I unlocked the door to my houseboat, I heard it. At first, it sounded like a duck paddling, but then I heard something else—a panting, or a gasping. For a second, it died down. It didn’t worry me, really, because the docks were full of weird noises, and boats were noisy as fuck. But I turned the deadbolt turned, the sound got louder and more frantic. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good and it sure as hell didn’t sound like a duck. I let my work belt slide off my shoulder onto the deck, and looked down in the water, gripping the taffrail. There in the shadows, gasping, paddling, and panicking, I saw something small and wet and terrified.
​Holy fuck. It was a dog. A tiny, drowning dog.
​Fully clothed, boots on, I jumped into the water off the sternside. I plunged in deep, submerged in a world of shadowy barnacle-crusted dock pilings and chains holding anchors far below. Holding my breath and looking up toward the sunshine, through the bubbles that came down with me, I saw it. No bigger than a chicken, and kicking hard. I breaststroked toward the dog, aiming to come up right below it, but the salt water stung my eyes, and I closed them out of reflex. When I surfaced, it had gotten a few feet away. It was just a tiny thing, soaking wet, sucking in terrified breaths. It doggy-paddled in circles, slipping down into the water so that only its nose was above the surface. I did one strong breaststroke, but it was in full flight-or-fight mode, absolutely fucking petrified, and it paddled away from me, slipping out of my grasp. With one more big stroke, I had it, and I scooped it up into my arms to held her up out of the water, the way people do when the hold babies in the air. I saw it was a girl, her tummy soft and much less furry than the rest of her. Her big black eyes bugged out for an instant, and then…
She went limp in my hands. Lifeless, with her feet dangling down, her tongue hanging out. Her eyes were closed. On my palm, I couldn’t feel a heartbeat where I was sure there should have been one thrumming along.
​Fuck. Fuck.
​I gave her a shake, but she dangled like a rag doll.
I held her out of the water, keeping her in a tight bicep curl over my shoulder. Carefully, I maneuvered under the jetty that led to my boat. I got a toehold on the old dock ladder, rusty and unsteady. Using one hand to climb up, and using both boots like climbing picks, I emerged from my boat’s shadow and out into the sunshine of the dock. I laid her down on her back, supporting her lifeless body. With every passing millisecond, my heart fucking broke more and more. I could not let this happen. I could not let her die. I pulled myself up all the way and knelt beside her. She was flat on her back, with no signs of life at all. Her arms were limp at the wrists, and her paws dripped onto the dry wood beneath her. Still, her tongue hung out. Still, her eyes were shut. Still, she wasn’t breathing.
Somewhere, buried deep in my memory, I remembered learning the basics of canine CPR. I felt like maybe it was in my lifeguard class when I was in high school, but I didn’t fucking know and it didn’t fucking matter. All I knew was I had to do something, and fast. So I did. I wrapped my fingers around her tiny muzzle and brought my lips to her leathery nose. I blew gently, and as I did I felt her chest swell up. I held my own breath and prayed for anything, any sign of life, but there was nothing. Lightly, with the tips of my fingers, I did compressions on her soaking wet fur. One. Two. Three. And then I did another breath. One. Two. Three.
“Come on, little lady,” I whispered, and rolled her onto her side. I gave her a few pats, firm but not too hard. She was absolutely tiny—from scruff to tail, hardly bigger than the span of my hand. I rolled her over onto her back again and gave her one more breath, all the while going through the paces of what the fuck to do if this didn’t work. I had no goddamned idea whatsoever where the vet was. Did we even have a vet? Would she survive that long? What the fuck was I going to do?
But as I started the next set of compressions, she coughed. She actually coughed, like a tiny person, a gasping choking hack, accompanied by a few mouthfuls of water spilling out onto the wood planks.
Holy shit.
I froze with my hands just above her tiny body. Her strange, buggy eyes opened up and she started panting hard.
“Hey, hey!” I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her to my chest. I could tell by the way she was so limp against me that she was exhausted. Keeping her close to my body, to keep her warm and safe, I scratched the fur at the back of her neck, her tail started to wag. But she was also shivering hard, and I didn’t like that one bit.

 

 

 

MY REVIEW:

Oh, man. I am such a sucker for a hot guy with a little dog. And not only does he adopt that little dog, he’s saved it from drowning? Swoon.

Max is such a nice guy. He deserves the best in a woman. Who’d have thought that would be his best friend, Rosie?

Rosie, incidentally, has inherited an elderly cat from hell. I think half the fun in this story is the mayhem caused by Julia Caesar.

Rosie and Max are two down to earth people navigating some unusual waters. I really liked this couple. Five stars.

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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

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Review: Cutlass by T.M. Franklin

 


 

 

CUTLASS by T.M. Franklin is NOW AVAILABLE!

Title: CUTLASS

Author: T.M. Franklin

Genre: Historical Adventure/Romance

Release Date: August 7, 2017

A quest for vengeance.
A high-stakes treasure hunt.
An attraction they both try to deny.

Convinced One-Eyed Jack Tremayne killed her father and stole his prized cutlass, Sarina Talbot sneaks aboard the pirate’s ship to exact her revenge. To her surprise, she’s met by a declaration of innocence and an offer of help. She doesn’t trust him, and he doesn’t trust anybody. But they need each other to catch the killer and beat their enemies to a hidden cache of Aztec gold.

They’re not the only treasure-seekers, however, and there’s a traitor in their midst.

Caught between Crown ships and enemy pirates, Sarina and Jack discover a prize greater than gold as their uneasy alliance leads them on the adventure of a lifetime.

 

Cutlass

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Google Play

To celebrate the release of CUTLASS, Enchanted Publications is hosting a MASSIVE Treasure Hunt! You could win eBooks, Gift Cards, and other amazing prizes.

The Grand Prize includes a Kindle FIRE, a signed copy of Cutlass, a Keep Calm and Say AAARRRRHH t-shirt, and some other fun swag – PLUS you could win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Join the fun all day August 7th at TinyURL.com/CUTLASSTreasureHunt!

MY REVIEW:

Have ye seen Jonathan Tremaine? I know he’s not with Davy Jones because that Franklin wench wrote a book about him. Ye bet I read it! I’m lookin’ for the scurvy dog. Bastard owes me coin. And he took my parrot, too.

Aye, I come from a long line o’ pirates. They sank ships off the English coast. Can’t help bein’ one meself.

One-eyed Jack? Ohh, ye’d best not be callin’ him that to his face.

Southern Carolinas, ye say? Aye, I’ll be lookin’ there.

Aye, the man owes me money and I’m wantin’ it. More’n that, I’m missin’ my Sweetpea.

Ach, no, ye bilge rat! That’s the parrot! Although Tremaine can swash me buckle anytime he wants.

Hey! I’m old, not dead!

Man shivers me timbers. No, not much chance o’ that happenin’ since that Smith wench came around him, though. What, Smith? Name’s Sarina. She’s got her iron round his ankle. Tough little birdie. I think she may just be able to tame him if anyone can. Mixed blessin’ for her, what with all the enemies he’s got.

What? Oh, aye he’s me enemy. If ye see him, tell him he owes me and I’ll have my due. And read that book about him. That Franklin wench has a way with words. I’d pay her five dubloons for it if I had it. But I don’t. Yet.

I’ll find ye, Jonathan Tremaine…

T.M. Franklin writes stories of adventure, romance, & a little magic. A former TV news producer, she decided making stuff up was more fun than reporting the facts. Her first published novel, MORE, was born during National Novel Writing month, a challenge to write a novel in thirty days. MORE was well-received, being selected as a finalist in the 2013 Kindle Book Review Best Indie Book Awards, as well as winning the Suspense/Thriller division of the Blogger Book Fair Reader’s Choice Awards. She’s since written four additional novels and several best-selling short stories…and there’s always more on the way.

Connect with T.M. Franklin

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