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Blog Tour : Tracking You by Kelly Moran With Excerpt and Giveaway

Reblogged from SnoopyDoo's Book Reviews :

 

Today’s stop is for Kelly Moran’s Tracking You. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 

 


 

 

Love isn't always loud. Sometimes it's silent.

Gabby Cosette has always been dubbed the good girl of quaint Redwood Ridge, Oregon, and being permanently put in the friend zone has left her dating life stagnant. With no prospects in sight, she clings to her friends and resolves to not let loneliness drag her under. So when the town Battleaxes set their matchmaking sights on her, she figures it can't hurt. Yet the guy they think is perfect for her just happens to be not only her boss at the veterinarian clinic, but her best friend. Sure, Flynn O'Grady is attractive and the nicest guy around, but going there with him would topple both of their carefully constructed worlds and there would be no going back. Even if he is starting to make her girly parts zing. Having been born deaf, Flynn has already felt like an outsider most of his life. Aside from his brothers, Gabby is about the only person who's gone out of her way to treat him as more than a handicap. Which is exactly why he's banked his secret attraction for his sweet, beautiful vet tech. Except his meddling family is trying to play Cupid and ruin the best thing to ever happen to him. Without Gabby, his work as a veterinarian, never mind his personal life, wouldn't flow. Determined to ignore the antics, he's secure in the knowledge she's not interested in him romantically. But then a kiss changes everything . . . and he's wondering if taking the ultimate shot at love might be worth the risk.

 

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Gabby Cosette smoothed her hand down the simple baby blue sundress she meticulously picked out for this evening and tried not to look too eager. Or throw up. That wouldn’t do either. From a back booth, she glanced around the only Italian restaurant in Redwood Ridge, comforted by the fact it was still early yet for the dinner rush. The place was a good choice. Right? Not as casual as Shooters—the bar she and her friends frequented—but not as formal as one of the seafood restaurants that dotted their Oregon coastal town. A step above grabbing coffee or a beer, yet it didn’t scream desperation. Was a booth in the back too obvious? Had she overdone it with her makeup? Maybe she should’ve put her hair up instead of down? No, no. She went for light and natural on purpose. The patrons of Redwood Ridge had known her all her life. It wasn’t far out of the realm of ordinary for her to wear a dress and light cosmetics. She was being a basket case. It’s just… Well, she hadn’t had a date in a year. A year! To calm her nerves, she drew in a deep breath and focused on the red checkered tablecloth. A votive candle flickered on the windowsill to her right, the flame reflecting off the tinted glass. The parking lot stretched beyond, where her date’s car was not in one of the available spots. It was silly to get this worked up over a first date, especially with Tom. She’d gone to elementary and high school with him. His parents still lived down the street from hers. Strange how he’d never shown any interest in her romantically, yet out of the blue, he’d asked her out this week. Then again, most everyone in town viewed her as the sweet Cosette girl, everyone’s friend. Thus the no date in a year. It was hard to get a guy to think about kissing her, never mind imagining her naked, when she had platonic all but tattooed on her forehead. The waitress strolled over in her apron, holding a notepad in her hand. “Are you waiting on someone, sweetie pie?” “Yes.” She smiled and grabbed her cell on the table. Tom was five minutes late. “He should be here any minute.” “Ooh. Is it a date?” Mavis planted a hand on her plump waist and grinned, the wrinkles around her eyes growing to crevices. Gabby wasn’t sure how old Mavis was, no one really knew, but she never seemed to age past the state from when Gabby was a child. Gabby opened her mouth to answer, but Tom strode toward her, weaving around tables and plopping in the seat across the booth. “Couldn’t find ya at the bar. I wasn’t expecting a table.” It was still early, and Le Italy didn’t get that crowded even on a Friday night. How hard could it possibly have been to locate her? “Give us a sec,”she told Mavis and waited for her to step away. Tom had blond hair too short for her preference and a thin mouth. His unremarkable brown eyes darted around the restaurant and back to her. He made no attempt to apologize for being late, and it appeared as if he’d just come from work. His jeans and T-shirt were paint-splattered. The hazard of working for his dad’s commercial painting and roofing company. “Thanks for meeting me.” He took off his ball cap and scratched his head. Why did that sound un-date-like? “Um…sure thing. How’s work going?” Her gaze dipped to his hands, no better off than his clothes. Maybe she should’ve picked Shooters after all. Something felt very, very off as her belly twisted. Not with nerves this time. Confused, Gabby’s mind scrolled through their conversation from earlier in the week when he’d brought his dog into the vet clinic where she worked. As he was checking out, he’d anxiously spun around to face her and asked if she could meet him. “Good. Work’s good.” He put his hat back on and glanced outside. “Getting to be warmer out, so the jobs are picking up.” Perhaps he was just nervous, too. Her tension drained a degree. Mavis returned and asked for a drink order. Tom lifted his hand to wave her off. “Nothing for me, thanks. I can’t stay long. Got a poker game with the guys tonight. I need to shower before they show up.” The forced smile Gabby had plastered on her face began to wilt like her mom’s petunias in August. What did he mean he couldn’t stay long? And why would he ask her out and schedule a card game on the same night? Plus, he could shower for his friends, but not her? Mavis divided her gaze between them, a mix of bewilderment and irritation lifting her brows. She tapped her pen to her pad as the silence hung. “Can I get you something?” She focused on Gabby, her tone indicating she should order something. “I’ll have a sweet tea. Thank you.” When the waitress walked away, Gabby looked at Tom. He’d thrown his arm over the back of the booth and had stretched his legs out. The aroma of Eau de Paint Thinner wafted across the table. “So…?” “Right, right.” Tom leaned forward and crossed his arms. “I appreciate you letting me do this in person.” She stilled. “Do what?” Because she was definitely getting the this-is-not-a-date vibe now. A warring shift in contradiction took over her body. Everything inside grew rapidly chilly while her skin heated in what she hoped wasn’t a blush. Her pale complexion always gave away her emotions and she hated that more than she’d hated freshman algebra. Math was evil. He let out a tense laugh, which sounded more like a guffaw, and drew several heads from other diners. “Not exactly a conversation you want to have over the phone or somethin’, ya know?” No. She didn’t know. “Maybe if you just tell me?” He played with the parmesan shaker, not meeting her gaze. “Well, the whole town’s buzzing about Rachel and Jeff’s split.” She frowned, not connecting the dots on his crazy pattern. Her older sister had only dated Jeff for a few weeks which, per Rachel standards, might as well have been marriage. Rachel liked to keep her options—and legs—open. Guilt immediately consumed her for the crass thought, but it didn’t make it any less true. She and Rachel couldn’t be any more different. Rachel was aloof and sexy. Gabby was the girl next door. Men desired Rachel. The only thing they desired from Gabby was a shoulder to cry on after her sister shot them down. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger to keep from fidgeting. “I don’t understand what Rachel and Jeff have to do with…” Unable to finish the sentence—because she had no idea anymore what “this” was—she waved her hand between them. “Well,” he said in an aw-shucks kind of way that made her want to grind her teeth, “now that Rachel’s available, I thought maybe you could put in a good word for me?”

 

 

 

 

Bestselling author Kelly Moran says she gets her ideas from everyone and everything around her and there’s always a book playing out in her head. No one who knows her bats an eyelash when she talks to herself, and no one is safe from becoming her next fictional character. She is a Catherine Award-Winner, Readers Choice Finalist, Holt Medallion Finalist, and earned one of the 10 Best Reads by USA Today's HEA. She is also a Romance Writers of America member. Her interests include: sappy movies, MLB, NFL, driving others insane, and sleeping when she can. She is a closet caffeine junkie and chocoholic, but don’t tell anyone. She resides in Wisconsin with her husband, three sons, and two dogs. Most of her family lives in the Carolinas, so she spends a lot of time there as well. She loves hearing from her readers.

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Blog Tour: Chasing Love by Melissa West with Excerpt and Giveaway

Reblogged from SnoopyDoo's Book Reviews :

 

Today’s stop is for Melissa West’s Chasing Love . We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 

 


 

 
Farming family land on sunny Crestler’s Key, the sweet, sexy Littleton brothers are notorious bachelors. But all that will change when the right woman comes along…There aren’t many things Charlie Littleton values more than his lifelong friendship with his buddy Lucas, currently home from a tour in Iraq. But when he discovers that Lucas’s younger sister, Lila, is back to assist the town’s overburdened veterinarian, Charlie is torn. She’s no longer the skinny, awkward kid he remembers, but a gorgeous woman—one Lucas would never approve of him dating. When Lucas asks him to watch out for Lila when he’s called to duty again, Charlie can’t say no—but he can’t pretend it’s easy to ignore his feelings either.As a teen, Lila crushed on Charlie—hard—and the man he’s grown up to be is even more wonderful than she dreamed. Relationships are a tricky business, though, and too much history is at stake to risk one now. But every moment they’re together is heated by their simmering attraction—and one day an impulsive kiss leads to much more. What’s tangled in a matter of loyalty soon becomes a question of the kind of love worth chasing…
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“Nah-ah, boy, you better take that dog on out of here.”Charlie Littleton tightened his hold on Henry’s leash and shot Patty a look. “You know he doesn’t bark.”The bakery owner placed a hand on her hip and cocked it for ef- fect. Like always, she wore an apron with the AJ&P Bakery yellow- and-blue logo on it, though you could scarcely see it through the flour and spices smeared across the apron. “Right,” Patty said now. “A dog that don’t bark. Is that sort of like a man who don’t eat? Because as far as I’m concerned that’s a fic- tional being. Like the dog. But if you do find a man who will share his sandwich, you be sure to point him in my direction, okay? But seeing as how that man don’t exist, kind of like that nonbarking dog don’t exist, I don’t expect you to be introducing me to him anytime soon.” She winked at him and clucked her tongue. “Now, you take that cute bottom of yours out of here, leave the dog in your truck, then come back and I’ll make you a roast beef with extra au jus.” Charlie peered around the bakery, the smells of fresh baked bread and toasted hot sandwiches hitting his nose. His stomach grumbled. Of course, the small bakery and sandwich shop was packed today, half the town there to witness Charlie getting put in his place. A part of him wanted to remind Patty that his family’s farm supplied most of her produce and could just as easily refuse to deliver, but he’d learned long ago to retreat slowly and carefully when dealing with the bakery owner. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that extra au jus.” Patty flashed him a grin. “It’ll be waiting for you, honey.” Then she waved her hand through the air in a sign that he better get mov- ing, and then she went to greet someone else. Someone without a dog. Resigned, Charlie pushed out of the glass door and eyed his old Husky. “Sorry, boy. I’ll bring you some leftovers, though.” He un- locked his Silverado, cranked the truck, and rolled down the win- dows. It was a mild sixty out in Crestler’s Key, Kentucky, a perfect early spring day, but Henry meant more to him than most of the peo- ple in the town, and if he was going to be forced to stay in Charlie’s truck, then he’d do it with a nice breeze. With a long glance down Main Street at the row of shops— Southern Dive, his family’s sports and outdoors shop at the very end—Charlie couldn’t help wondering if he was making the right de- cisions in his life. He’d moved back to Crestler’s Key after living in the Florida Keys for five years. There, he’d operated a small scuba diving busi- ness, his life as much under water as above it. And he loved every moment of it. Then there were the women, too many to count, al- ways around, always eager to occupy a little bit of his time. He’d been content with that life, never asking for more and never wanting it. He was a typical twenty-something and enjoyed every bit of his young age. Then he met Jade, and hell if he didn’t fall hook, line, and sinker. Still to this day, years later, he remembered with painful clarity her walking down the dock at the marina and stopping outside his houseboat, long sun-bleached blond hair and even longer legs. She was beautiful in that natural, God-made way—his kryptonite, when it came to women, so all it took was one look and he was gone. It took mere days, maybe even hours, for her to rope him into her world. She had innocence behind that beauty that he couldn’t refuse, and weeks passed with them tangled in each other’s arms, a new kind of happiness swirling in Charlie’s chest. She would never fill the spot someone else had once filled, someone he was never allowed to care for, someone he told himself he could—would—forget, but Jade made him feel good. They meshed together perfectly, peanut butter and freaking jelly. Until that fateful day when he woke to discover she’d taken every- thing he owned. His dog. His wallet, which she used to drain his checking account. His prized possessions. Even the coin collection his grandfather had left him. Every. Single. Thing. Hell, if he hadn’t been on the houseboat, he felt sure she’d have sailed off with it, too. And while, yeah, the money thing sucked, and the coin collection sucked even more, what really dropped him into the depression bucket was losing his old dog, Rocky. He’d rescued Rocky as a puppy from the pound, more mutt than anything, and with a broken left leg. Thousands of dollars in vet bills later, and that dog was his only friend down there. And his idiotic self had let some vixen walk in and steal him. The thought brought on a fresh wave of guilt, and he contem- plated going to talk to Patty again, convince her that they could sit out on the back patio, but then he’d been through this argument with her before. Besides, this was Crestler’s Key, not Florida, and he knew everyone in town. No one would take his dog. Still, just to be safe, he hit the locks on his truck twice, before heading back into AJ&P, determined to rehash this with Patty before he left if she hoped to continue to get discounted produce from the farm. “There you are, cute bottom.” Ah, crap. Grimacing, Charlie pivoted to find his best friend, Lucas, already seated at one of the white-washed wooden tables, a giant smirk on his face. “Funny,” Charlie said. “You know, I was excited to see you and then you had to go and open that big mouth.” The men laughed, then hugged, because it’d been too damn long. They took their seats and Lucas joked, “Thought you were going to cry there when she said you couldn’t bring Henry in here.” Charlie peeked out the window at his truck before returning his gaze to his friend. “Well, she ought to remember who’s supplying all her produce.” “So you’re going to hold her produce ransom until she lets you bring in your dog? Dude, you need a chick in your life. Stat.” Charlie laughed, until he glanced around and noticed several of the women he’d dated off and on eating at the bakery, half of them glaring at him. “Yeah . . . think I’ll pass on that one. Thanks, though.” “What’s the deal with your insane overprotectiveness of Henry anyway? He’s a giant dog. He can take care of himself.” Yeah, well, Rocky had been a big dog, too, and that didn’t save him from that thieving witch of a woman. Charlie had searched for the dog for nearly a year, all to no avail. Jade was probably halfway across the world now, with his money and his coin collection and his dog. Damn woman. No, damn women. They were more trouble than they would ever be worth. Lucas continued to stare at him with a questioning look, but all Charlie could say was the same excuse he always said. Because no one, not Lucas, not his brothers Zac or Brady, no one knew about Jade or what she’d done to him. The humiliation would be too much. “Henry had a rough childhood. Gotta protect the boy now.” “Right . . .” MaryAnn, one of AJ&P’s waitresses, came over then to get their order, and Lucas smiled a little too wide at his former high-school flame before clearing his throat and trying for mock-cool. Charlie suppressed a grin. MaryAnn, with her wavy blond hair and deep brown eyes, still looked exactly as she did in high school. And just like in high school, she was still 100 percent in love with Lucas. “Hey, there,” MaryAnn said, matching his smile. “I didn’t know you were home.” Lucas shrugged. “Three-day leave before going back.” “When is your tour over?” she asked, her eyes filling with a bit of hope that she probably wished wasn’t there. She and Lucas had mu- tually ended their relationship when she realized he intended to be a career soldier, and having lost her brother in Iraq, she said she couldn’t live that life. It was a mature decision, they had both said, but now ten years later, they both still looked like they regretted it. And come to think of it, Charlie couldn’t remember a single woman Lucas had dated seriously since ending things with MaryAnn. With another careful glance at his old girlfriend, Lucas relaxed into his chair, the single thing between them now back front and center. “Three months, then I’ll have a few weeks off, before another one.” MaryAnn nodded slowly, and then flipped her attention over to Charlie for the first time, like she couldn’t bear to look at Lucas an- other second. “Your regular?” “Yeah, though Patty promised extra au jus if I left Henry in the truck.” “What’s up with you and that dog?” Lucas laughed. “Didn’t you know? He’s married to that dog. Pa- pers and all.” “Again, funny.” Both MaryAnn and Lucas laughed, until they made eye contact with each other and both went mum. She took their order and saun- tered off, her shoulders drooped a little, and Charlie couldn’t stand it anymore. “Seriously?” “What?” Lucas asked. Charlie deadpanned. “What? Are you freaking kidding me? The whole town could feel that tension. Why not try?” Lucas took a drink of his sweet tea, set it down, then did it again, like he wasn’t ready to speak yet. Or maybe he didn’t know what to say. “She made her intentions clear years ago. Her mind’s not changing.” “She’s older now. Y’all were teenagers then. Maybe she wants you to make the first move.” “Says the dude who hasn’t been on a real date since . . .” Lucas cocked his head. “Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever been on a real date.” “Whatever. I date.” “Sure you do,” Lucas said, relaxing now that the spotlight wasn’t on him. “You sound just like Lila, always deflecting.” And just like that, just the mention of her name, and Charlie sat up taller, eager to hear anything that might have to do with Lucas’s little sister. “What’s up with Lila these days? Still in vet school?” He thought of Lucas’s only sister, two years younger and forever tag- ging along with the two boys when they were kids. She’d always been pretty in a sweet, natural way, her smile and laugh infectious. Charlie looked after her when Lucas left for basic, but then Charlie moved to the Keys and Lila moved away to college, and he hadn’t seen her since. “Actually she finished school. Went to work in Charlotte for a while, but she moved back to town a week ago.” He took another drink of his tea, his look distant now, and Charlie got the distinct im- pression that Lucas was keeping something from him. “Why’d she move back to town?” Charlie asked. He wondered what Lila looked like now, if she’d kept her black hair cropped short like she had when she was little. But then most women changed their hair all the time, so it could be long now—beautiful. She probably had men waiting in lines to get her attention, that bright smile of hers forever turning the eye of everyone she passed. It had certainly caught his eye. Lucas shrugged. “Work stuff.” MaryAnn returned then with their food, saving Lucas from ex- plaining, but something was definitely going on. Still, it wasn’t Char- lie’s business, and he was never one to pry. “She ever marry?” All right, so maybe he was one to pry. “Nah, not her thing.” Charlie perked up at the thought, his heart light—happy. Wow, Lila wasn’t married. He’d expected her to be— But before he could finish the thought, Lucas pointed at him. “Don’t even think about it.” Charlie threw up his hands. “Think about what?” “Lila. And you. You and Lila.” A sarcastic laugh broke from his lips, despite the uneasiness in his chest. “You go insane again? This is me. She’s like a little sister to me.” Lucas settled in his chair again, but his face was still tense. “Right . . . just like the last time. My thoughts on this haven’t changed.” Cringing, Charlie thought of that fateful day in high school when he’d asked Lucas about his sister. It was a simple question—Is Lila around? Three words, nothing more. He and Lucas had always been best friends, but somewhere along the way, Charlie started noticing Lila more and more. Curious where she was, how she was doing. But needless to say, the conversation with his friend didn’t go well. Lucas went ballistic, shouting all the reasons Charlie wasn’t to touch his sister, and their friendship meant enough to him that he didn’t. “Relax, man. I’m not going after your sister.” Besides, Lila was the furthest thing from Charlie’s type now. He wasn’t into doctors or the professional type. Lucas had nothing to worry about. Nothing. But still, he couldn’t deny that he was curious what adult Lila looked like and whether she would remember the time they’d almost . . . No, surely not. Even if he would never forget.
 
 
Melissa West writes heartfelt Southern romance and teen sci-fi romance, all with lots of kissing. Because who doesn't like kissing? She lives outside of Atlanta, GA, with her husband and two daughters and spends most of her time writing, reading, or fueling her coffee addiction.
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Better Than the Beach Summer Giveaway

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~Every summer has its own stories.~

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come and join us again for another

great multi author Giveaway.

Running now through September 5th,2017

 

 

 

Over 30 Authors and Bloggers

 

 

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With this awesome giveaway that has tons of awesome prizes :)

Books, gift cards,  other gifts

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Blog Tour: Changing the Earl's Mind by Kristen McLean with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Today’s stop is for Kristen McLean’s Changing the Earl's Mind. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 


 

A man who knows everything…

For nearly a decade, Drake Ramsey, the disciplined and logical Earl of Saint Brides, has been the driving force behind the Home Office; meeting with foreign leaders to negotiate treaties, spurring a lethargic Parliament into action, and directing a secret army of spies. The last thing he wants to find while taking a well-deserved vacation is a dangerous fugitive. Nevertheless, when he catches a beautiful murderess hiding in his hunting cabin, he has little choice but to bring her to justice, landing himself in a battle for control he could never hope to win.   …meets a woman determined to prove him wrong.   Marrying a stranger simply to gain access to her dowry and travel the world, admittedly, was the biggest mistake of Sarah Tindall’s life. In fact, she would readily admit to making several big mistakes. Killing her husband, however, is not one of them. When a starchy lord takes it upon himself to bring her to a London prison, she is determined to escape him and prove her innocence, yet every attempt ends with her back in her handsome captor’s arms. Even if her innocence is proven, his forbidden and passionate kisses leave her uncertain if escape was ever an option.  

*WARNING* This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, and explicit language offends you.  

 

**Can easily be read as a standalone!**  

 

 

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Trouble?” He echoed the vague response as though he hadn’t heard it more times than he could count. She nodded. “Mrs. Tindall, nearly everyone on this miserable planet is in some sort of trouble. It doesn’t explain why you have invaded my hunting cabin or threatened to shoot me.” He was not prepared for the interrogation of an impertinent beauty in the moors. He was prepared for solitude and quiet, relaxation. Or, in the very least, a moment of self-reflection followed by a week of wallowing in depression. “With what gun? I am unarmed,” she pointed out. “I said threatened,” he emphasized. “Had you been armed, would you have shot me?” Large, hazel eyes focused steadily on him. “Yes.” Now his head began to throb, and his teeth ached from the pressure of his jaw. “Where is your husband, Mrs. Tindall?” “I am a grown woman, plenty old enough to be about on my own.” She didn’t look a day past twenty, but he was in no mood to dispute anything that wasn’t completely necessary. It was too much damned effort, especially compounded with the effort needed to ignore her—or more accurately, to ignore his body’s response to her. The dress she wore was threadbare and torn, showing shapely ankles disappearing into ragged half boots. Her sleeve had been ripped at the shoulder, sliding down her arm and sending the neckline dangerously low on her generous bosom. He fought to keep his attention on her face, but even that was a distraction. Her eyes were ethereally vivid, her mouth full and wide, and her neck a lovely arch beneath it all. Bloody hell, why her? Why him? What god or demon had he insulted so gravely as to deserve this? All he wanted was a damned holiday, a well-deserved one, he might add. “You are Mrs. Tindall,” he said doggedly. “Surely there’s a Mr. Tindall?” “Yes, there was… but he is no longer amongst the living.” His fists clenched at his sides, forcing himself to calm. She was a widow. Good manners dictated he grant her some measure of consideration. “I am sorry to hear it. When did this happen?” “Two days ago.” To his credit, the curse that nearly flew from his mouth stayed obediently behind his teeth. Two days? A landlord who evicted a woman immediately after the death of her husband ought to be publicly flogged, and Drake would jump at the chance to administer the punishment. Particularly since, in this case, it meant she had been booted out of her home and into his hunting cabin. “Have you no family or friends who can take you in?” “No,” she said. “I know two or three people, but no one I could impose upon.” “Of course not,” he muttered. “Why impose upon those you know when there is a perfectly good stranger handy.” Her eyes flashed. “Under the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly ask someone I hardly know to shelter me.” “Circumstances,” he echoed. “Circumstances being the death of your husband? Is that the trouble you have found yourself in?” She looked away. “More or less.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kristen McLean is a regency-era romance novelist with a flair for humor and suspense. She has always had a love of novels, with a special place in her heart for historical romance. Now she has the pleasure of writing at home, tucked away in a forest with her husband, two children, and their cat. Her husband is loving and impressively patient, their two beautiful children strive to embarrass and exhaust her, and the cat hates everyone, but tolerates—well, she tolerates whoever will feed her. For the latest on Kristen McLean's book releases, events, and giveaways subscribe to her newsletter at kmromance.com

 

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Giveaway for The Fourth Monkey

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The Fourth Monkey - A.J. Barker

I'm running a little giveaway for a book called The Fourth Monkey over on my blog. I've read this book and thought it was perfectly evil. I'll post my review on July 1st, it'll probably get around 4 1/2 stars because the characterization was great. It's about a missing teen and also has a creepy diary that tells the tale of a young serial killer in the making. If this sounds at all interesting to you and you are in the US or UK please enter the giveaway by clicking here. You could win a signed copy of the book and some other stuff.

 

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Which country reads the most? Travel guide for book lovers [Infographic]

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Summer time made us think of summer travels. Travels and books go well together, right? And what's a better place to visit than the one filled up with people alike, other book lovers? Lets read on and pick your summer destinations based on global reading habits.

 

So, where is your next summer stop?

 

Infographic via Global English Editing

Source: http://geediting.com/blog/world-reading-habits

Blog Tour: A Queen From the North by Erin McRae & Racheline Maltese with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Today’s stop is for Erin McRae & Racheline Maltese’s A Queen From the North. We will have info about the book and authors, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

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It may be the 21st century, but in a not-so-united kingdom the wounds of the Wars of the Roses have never healed. The rivalry between the Yorkish north and Lancastrian south has threatened to pull the nation apart for over 500 years.

While the modern world struggles with fractures born of ancient conflict, Lady Amelia Brockett faces far more mundane problems. Known to her family as Meels, this youngest daughter of a Northern earl is having the Worst. Christmas. Ever. Dumped by her boyfriend and rejected from graduate school, her parents deem her the failure of the family. But when her older brother tries to cheer her with a trip to the races, a chance meeting with Arthur, the widowed, playboy Prince of Wales, offers Amelia the chance to change her life -- and Britain's fortunes -- forever. Hunted by the press -- and haunted by Arthur's niece who fancies herself the kingdom's court witch -- Amelia finds herself adrift in a sea of paparazzi, politics, and prophecy.

With few allies beyond her allergic-to-horses sister-in-law, her best friend who has a giant crush on the prince, and the cute young receptionist at Buckingham Palace that calls himself her Royalty Customer Service Representative, Amelia must navigate a perilous and peculiar course to secure Arthur's love and become A Queen from the North.

 

 

 

 

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“The genealogists put together a list,” the Prince said. “All unmarried women of the peerage, in a certain age demographic, who do not have children and have not been divorced. As you might imagine, it’s not particularly extensive.” “Why not include commoners?” Amelia asked faintly. “By what criteria? There’s a nation of those. If someone is going to be subjected to this life, they may as well go in as prepared as possible.” “Wouldn’t it have been easier to hold a ball?” Prince Arthur laughed. His whole face brightened, almost like it had at the races. “The treasury’s already girding its loins for the inevitable royal wedding. Best not to run up an even bigger bill in the process of finding a bride.” "Are you…proposing to me?" She asked hesitantly. And then, more hysterically, “After five minutes? After talking about genealogy?” "Hardly.” Arthur sounded offended. “This is me asking if you'd agree to meet with me again to discuss the matter of marriage further." Amelia stared at him. This couldn’t possibly be happening. “Your genealogy, though, is hardly irrelevant.” Prince Arthur removed a piece of paper from the folio, spun it around on the table and pushed it at her. “This is my family tree.” “Yes. We do our homework here,” Prince Arthur flipped through his folio again. “You’re attractive, well-born, and intelligent. Pursuing a graduate degree in the earth sciences, I believe.” “I graduate in the spring. I’m applying to PhD programs. I want to study climate change,” Amelia managed to say, as if any of those words could be a defense against what was happening. “All of which is excellent. You also happen to be the only eligible daughter of one of the oldest families of York. Both the city and the ancient house.” “How is that a plus?” Amelia was wary. Little good ever came of the rare times London mentioned York. “Political marriages — at least of this form — are rather out of style these days. But the rift between the north and the rest of the country only grows.” “That’s the Prime Minister’s fault. And Parliament’s.” It was Amelia’s turn to be offended now. “The most recent jobs bill—” The Prince sighed. “Yes. I know. I agree with you. Yet as a member of the royal house I can hardly engage in politics. At least not on a parliamentarian’s terms. But symbolism is mine. And what I can do is unite York and London — York and Lancaster — in a way they haven’t been in centuries. I know this proposition is awkward, but we could make history, you and I.” “Awkward?!” Amelia exclaimed. “This conversation is insane.” Prince Arthur blinked mildly at her. “I’m merely trying to apply the available resources to a set of problems. Before you judge, I suggest you consider the resources that could be applied to your problems were you to choose to help me with mine.” “You don’t even know what my problems are!” “I don’t have to, to know we could help each other.” Amelia wanted to turn away from the intensity of his stare, but she couldn’t. He was magnetic, and there was a sharpness, even a shrewdness, to him that hadn’t been present at the races. His eyes may have been brown, but he was no prey animal. She couldn’t help but lean in ever so slightly. In her mind she cursed both the table between them and this proposed conspiracy. “Lady Amelia,” Prince Arthur said, “do you want to be Queen Consort of England, Scotland, and Wales, Her Royal Majesty of Britain?” “No!” Amelia pressed her feet firmly against the floor as the word came out of her mouth unbidden. The Prince was fascinating, but the question so baldly put was terrifying. Not to mention treasonous for her to answer in anything but the negative. She wondered, fleetingly, if this were a trap. “Shall I call to have you shown out then?” His words were without rancor, but there was a coldness to them she did not prefer. She shook her head. “No,” she repeated more softly. He smiled.

 

 

 

 

 
Erin McRae is a queer writer based in New York and Washington, DC. She is a researcher, statistician, and novelist.
She has a bachelor’s degree in International Relations from the University of Toronto (Toronto, Canada) and a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University (Washington, DC).
Together with Racheline Maltese she founded Avian30, a literary collective dedicated to stories with magical and sexual realism. She is a hybrid author. She and Racheline Maltese have self-published titles (A Queen From the North, 2017; The Art of Three, 2017, and the Love in Los Angeles series, which was originally published by Torquere Press in 2014 and is being re-released in 2017). They have also published work with Cleis Press (Best Gay Romance, 2015), Dreamspinner (The Love’s Labours series, 2015), Supposed Crimes (Young Love Old Hearts, 2015).
She lives with her spouse and their two cats.
 
 
 
 
Racheline Maltese can fly a plane, sail a boat, and ride a horse, but has no idea how to drive a car. With Erin McRae she writes romance about fame and public life. She is also a producer and writer on Tremontaine, Serial Box Publishing's adventure of manners, swordplay, and chocolate that's a prequel to Ellen Kushner's gay lit classic, Swordspoint.
Racheline's training includes a journalism degree from The George Washington University, as well as acting and directing coursework at the Atlantic Theater Company Acting School (New York City) and the National Institute of Dramatic Art (Sydney, Australia).
Her fiction, non-fiction and poetry has appeared in numerous outlets, and she is a regular speaker on pop-culture topics at fan and academic conferences. Racheline also voiced Desire and Delirium in a benefit performance of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman for the CBLDF.
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Tour Stop: Stolen Time by Chloé Duval with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Today’s stop is for Chloé Duval’s Stolen Time. We will have info about the book and author, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

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In a rural French village, a letter is delivered decades late, inspiring a young woman to try to reunite two star-crossed lovers . . .   Middle school teacher by day, romance writer by night, and group knitter on Tuesday evenings, Flavie Richalet leads a fairly uneventful life—until she receives a long delayed letter meant for a total stranger. Postmarked 1971, the yellowed envelope, addressed to an Amélie Lacombe, holds a fervent message of love and a marriage proposal, signed only with the initial E. Given her own fractured family history, Flavie is dreamily determined to learn what became of the couple . . . Flavie’s inquiries lead her to a French seaside inn—and to E. himself, a true romantic who never forgot the girl who got away so many years ago. But his protective nephew, B&B owner Romaric, isn’t sure that trying to find Amélie after all these years is good for his uncle. At odds with the tall, dark, and impossibly passionate Romaric, Flavie must show him, and perhaps herself, that true love is timeless—and always worth waiting for . . .

 

 

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Prologue Karouac, Brittany

September 4, 1975 It was the most important day of her life. She’d been waiting and preparing for this day for weeks, and she should have been deliriously happy. She should have been lighthearted and smiling. But instead, she felt strange and uncomfortable. As though she was forgetting something important. As though she was about to make a mistake. It’s just apprehension, she told herself. The usual jitters all women feel before they commit for life. But did all women think of their first love on their wedding day? Amélie closed her eyes, and Erwan’s beautiful face appeared in her mind. She pictured his irresistible smile, his gray-blue gaze, his unruly hair, always too wild to lie flat. She felt his rough hands on her skin, his lips on hers, as though it were only yesterday that they had lain together on the beach. She shook her head, willing herself to dismiss the memory. It was foolish to think of him, especially right before her wedding. It had been so long ago . . . four years, almost to the day. He’d obviously forgotten her, moved on with his life. He’d never written to her, never phoned her, never gotten in touch with her. She’d waited weeks, months even, for him to reach out to her, before she’d accepted the truth. It had only been a summer fling. So she’d grieved, but then looked to the future. She’d thrown herself into her studies in fashion-design school to forget. Forget all about him. And now she was finally happy. She’d finished school and gotten the job of her dreams with a small fashion company that appreciated her style and her slightly extravagant ideas. It was almost more than she’d ever expected. Moreover, she was about to marry a wonderful man, one who loved her more than anyone and whom she loved very much. She knew they’d have a great life together. So why? Why was she thinking of the past, of a painful, bestforgotten period of her life, on the day she was going to marry Paul, for better or for worse? She took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart, her nerves, her mind. She patted her veil, smoothed a few nonexistent creases in her satin and lace wedding dress. She’d designed it herself, and it was stunning, even if she said so herself. It was the dress of her dreams. Again, Erwan appeared in her mind’s eye. “For God’s sake!” she swore, cutting herself off immediately. Someone knocked on the door and her mother peered in. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” Viviane Lacombe asked, beaming. Amélie cast a last glance into the mirror, took a deep breath, and nodded. “I am.” It was no longer time to wonder about the past. So, she left her home, the home where she grew up, and, lifting the hem of her dress in one hand, her father at her side, her mother in front of her, beaming much more than her daughter was, Amélie slowly walked the short distance to the beautiful church of Karouac, where her parents had been married. Paul was waiting for her there. Her family was waiting for her. The minister, and all their friends, were gathered here today to celebrate her wedding to the love of her life. She couldn’t wait to go in and marry Paul, the man who had always been there for her. Who loved her more than anything else. She couldn’t wait to start her life. The life she had chosen for herself. Yet before she walked into the church, she couldn’t help stopping to gaze around, searching for a face, a smile. She shook her head and cursed the damn memories trying to spoil the happiest day of her life. She turned back and smiled at her father, took hold of his proffered arm, and waited for her cue. Hidden in the shade of a porch, unseen, Erwan watched as the love of his life walked into the church on her father’s arm to marry another man. He’d been too late, and he’d lost her once again—forever. 2 • Chloé Duval He tamped down the urge to enter the church and beg Amélie, on his knees if need be, to come with him, repeating what he’d written in that unanswered letter four years ago, and walked away, his heart breaking, leaving Karouac behind him. Once again, and forever.

Stolen Time •

 

 

 

 

 

As a little girl, Chloé Duval dreamed of knights slaying terrifying dragons and damsels in distress. Today, she’s still seeking, in her stories, to find again the sweetness and the enchantment of the fairy tales she absorbed as a child. A Frenchwoman by birth, Canadian by adoption, and Québecoise in her heart, Chloé lives in Montreal with her prince charming and dozens of characters jostling around inside her head.

 

 

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Blog Tour: When Darkness Falls by Ellen Chauvet with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Today’s stop is for Ellen Chauvet’s When Darkness Falls. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

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When Darkness Falls: The First Vampire Redemption Story

 

 

Lexie Miles, a southern belle living her dream life in Paris, is devastated when her best friend Emma is brutally raped and murdered by vampires. From that moment Lexie’s “perfect world” begins to crumble. She discovers her entire life has been a sham and everyone she cares about has been lying to her. Angry doesn’t begin to describe her reaction to the news.

Plunged into a two-thousand year old war between good and evil, she is propelled into a world of blood, lust and dark secrets. She must embrace her birthright to fight an ancient threat to humanity. Bequeathed with the dubious gift of being the “Chosen One,” Lexie meets the enigmatic Etienne Benoit. She falls hard for him and when he betrays her, she vows to get revenge. After all, she is a vampire executioner and killing vampire is what she does.

 

 

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Lexie sat waiting for her best friend Emma Gunther to join her at their favorite French bistro, the Boeuf sur la Toit, off the Champs Elysees. Emma had been away for two weeks and Lexie was looking forward to their reunion. Her thoughts drifted to the latest vampire novel Emma had given her to read. It contained hot, juicy sex scenes. Her gaze settled on a handsome man who had entered the restaurant. His wool coat outlined broad shoulders and chest, and tapered to a slim waist and hips. Dark eyes caught hers for a moment before shifting on. He sauntered to a single table radiating sex and passion. Lexie’s imagination took over. In her fantasy he was a vampire and she was his lover. She undressed him and heat rose in her groin as she pictured him naked. Lost in her fantasy, she jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. “Earth to Lexie,” Emma’s familiar voice intruded. “Shit you scared the be-jesus out of me.” Lexie rose and hugged her friend, then stood back. “Darlin’ I’m so happy you’re back,” she said slipping comfortably into her native Atlanta drawl. The accent she had to clip when speaking French or the Parisian’s would look at her with disdain. “It’s good to be back,” Emma said, removing her coat before sitting at their table. Emma was tall, had long brown hair which she pulled back in a severe bun and thick glasses. They worked together as translators for the United Nations and their friendship had flourished over the past three years. Emma was the science translator as well as a chemist and math whizz. They were a strange combination: a pretty Southern belle from Georgia and a stodgy but brilliant German fraulein, but the friendship worked. Rather than going home to Atlanta, Lexie had spent summer vacations at the Gunther’s cottage in the Taunus Mountains, and Christmas holidays with Emma and her father in Frankfurt. Too cold in late November to sit outside, Lexie and Emma enjoyed the warmth and coziness of the restaurant as they waited for their meals. “What were you thinking about when I came in?” Emma said. “You were a million miles away.” Lexie felt her cheeks redden and dipped her head to avoid Emma’s stare. “I was thinkin’ about some stuff at work. How was your trip?” Lexie steered the conversation to a safer topic. “It was good. Saw some friends from university and had a good visit with my father.” Lexie noticed that Emma’s response was vague, and wondered what she wasn’t saying. Before she could ask, the waiter arrived with their food. They ate in silence, the awkwardness between them increasing. Puzzled by her friend’s reticence, Lexie leaned back and said, “How come the subject of men and vampires hasn‘t come up yet?” “You always make fun of me when I talk about vampires,” Emma replied. “And as for men…” she left the statement hanging. Lexie did think that Emma’s fascination with the undead was odd so she steered the conversation toward men. Lexie felt a twinge of remorse that Emma was reluctant to mention vampires around her, so she chose to bring a bit of humor to the conversation. “We’re not spring chickens anymore,” Lexie said. “Don’t be silly, we’re only 29.” Emma replied. “Besides, you tried a committed relationship, and we both know how that went.” “Don’t remind me,” Lexie said as Justin’s handsome face flashed through her mind. “I still get my panties in a wad when I think of findin’ him with that bitch. That still hurts.” “Ach, let’s not rehash that one again.” Just like Lexie’s drawl, Emma’s German accent was always more evident when it was just the two of them. “At least I have one to rehash. How much longer are you gonna to pine over Tom?” “That’s not fair.” Lexie could see the hurt in her friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just get frustrated that you waste your time longin’ for our unapproachable boss.” The truth was Lexie also had a little crush on their brawny, Daniel Craig like English boss. But of the two of them, she had the role of being the one who was worldly about men, and she enjoyed that. Since the disaster with Justin, she had shied away from any long term relationships. One night stands were exciting and safe. Never mind that they left her feeling empty and lonely. Emma smiled at her. “I know you worry about me. Maybe my destiny is to find a ’good’ vampire like in the books we’ve been reading. Then I could live a life of adventure and hot, juicy, passionate sex.” Emma purred. “Girl they are just myths. Besides, I don’t believe in good and evil.” Lexie usually saw Emma’s eyes twinkling in amusement through her thick glasses at their ongoing debate. But this time Emma’s eyes held no sparkle and she said with a serious tone. “All myths have some truth in the background.” “I guess everyone needs to believe in somethin’.” Lexie said. Especially when you’re a mousy nerd. She experienced a twinge of guilt at her unkind thought. Lexie loved Emma like a sister and her attempts to improve her appearance came from a place of caring. “Hon you are barkin’ up the wrong tree if you think I’ll ever believe vampires are real. There isn’t any ‘truth’ in the background. Although I must admit, I enjoy the erotica. The scenes give me wonderful ideas for my own flings.” She winked at her friend. “C’mon let’s get out of here and go for a walk.” Even Lexie noticed that male heads turned to ogle her as she exited. She and Emma walked the Champs Elysees, wandering in and out of the fashionable stores that were still open. “This would look wonderful on you,” Lexie said. She held up a deep purple sweater for Emma’s approval. Lexie felt it was her mission in life to break Em out of her dowdy wardrobe. “It would look better on you.” Emma replied. “This is more my style.” She held up a mustard yellow sweater and Lexie cringed at the sight. “The color is awful. It makes you look dead. Will you at least try this purple one on? Emma took the sweater and slipped it over her head. Lexie smiled. It was stunning and brought out Em’s chocolate brown eyes. It’s too….bright.” Emma said and yanked the sweater off. “I love it on you.” Emma regarded the sweater and Lexie could sense that she wavered. “Won’t you at least give it a try?” “I don’t know….I have plenty of clothes.” “C’mon hon, it’s sexy.” “I never think of myself that way.” Lexie grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled her in front one of the store mirrors. “Hold it up in front of you.” “Does it really make me look sexy?” Lexie could tell the idea of sexy appealed to her. “Absofrigginlutely, you have to have it.” Lexie smiled to herself as Emma walked to the cashier and paid for the item. Will wonders never cease? They stepped back out on the boulevard and Lexie linked arms with Emma as they walked. In soft whispers they commented on the men that they passed on the street. It was their usual game of imagining whether or not certain ones could be good vampires or bad vampires and then laughed at their silliness. Lexie pointed to a couple approaching. “Now he’s someone I could take to bed in a heartbeat,” she whispered into Emma’s ear. They were passing the Cartier store and Emma grabbed her arm and pulled. “Look at that diamond necklace. Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” “I guess so.” Lexie stumbled after her. Startled by Emma’s sudden interest in the incredibly expensive item in the window, Lexie started to say something when Emma tensed holding her arm so tight it hurt. “Em, you’re hurtin’ me.” She tugged at her friend’s grip but Emma held on tighter. “What’s going on with you? The necklace is gorgeous, and way out of our price range.” Lexie felt a presence behind her. Her scalp prickled and her heart rate accelerated. She scratched her head wondering if she’d picked up lice. The scratching didn’t help. “Oui, that is a most delightful piece,” said a tinkling female voice with a heavy French accent. “It would look stunning on you.” Lexie turned and the petite young woman who had spoken was too gorgeous for words. Her hair was blond almost white in the soft light of the Cartier window. Blue eyes twinkled from her heart shaped face. Her skin was translucent and flawless. The woman extended her hand and as Lexie shook it she noticed delicate blue veins on the back. “My name is Marielle,” she said. “And this is my husband Francois.” Lexie looked up into eyes so dark brown they appeared black. High cheekbones that any model would kill for were framed by lustrous brown hair. His broad chest and shoulders filled out the suede jacket he wore, and tight fitting designer jeans revealed a slim waist and long legs. So young to be married. “Enchanté” Lexie replied taking the man’s outstretched hand. “Je m’apelle Lexie.” Again her scalp prickled. It was annoying. She looked at Emma who still clutched her arm. Emma stared at the couple in a way that was not friendly but as if she knew these strangers. “Do y’all know each other?” Lexie asked puzzled by Emma’s demeanor. “Ah no, mademoiselle.” Francois spoke for the first time and reached out his hand toward Emma. Emma released the death grip she had on Lexie’s arm. In slow motion Emma raised her hand and when Lexie looked into her eyes the pupils were dilated and fixed. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Lexie could see that Francois had captured Emma’s eyes with his own and the intensity of his gaze reminded Lexie of a hypnotist. How odd. “This is my friend Emma.” Lexie was pleased to introduce her friend but for the first time felt the male attention was being stolen by Emma. Francois raised Emma’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. When he released it, it hung in the air like some disembodied prosthetic. Before Lexie could say anything, Francois turned to Lexie. “We were just passing by and noticed you admiring the necklace. We were both struck by your good looks and Marielle couldn’t resist saying hello. Are you perhaps a fashion model?” “Oh, well it’s nice to meet you both and no, I am not a fashion model. But thank you kindly for the compliment,” Lexie replied, her ego soothed. “C’mon, we need to go,” Emma said. “It’s getting late and I have a lot to do tomorrow.” Rude much? “It was nice meeting you both,” Lexie said. “It was our pleasure mademoiselle,” Francois replied. “Perhaps we will bump into each other again soon.” He smiled at Emma and Lexie noticed that the smile never reached his eyes. “I would enjoy that,” Emma responded and then blushed to her roots. “We need to go.” Emma hustled Lexie to the curb. She waved her arm to hail a cab. “Em, what are you doing? You just live a few blocks away, and I can take the train to Montmartre.” Emma didn’t respond, and as a cab pulled alongside, she jerked open the door and climbed in. “Get in,” she demanded. Lexie hesitated. Emma reached out and yanked Lexie’s arm and she stumbled into the cab. “Em, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting very strange.” “There was just something about that couple that I didn’t trust. Especially the woman. They just - how do you say it in English ‘bugged me’. “But, honey, what’s with the cab? Aren’t we going to the Bus Palladium for dancing?” “I’m too tired to go dancing tonight.” Emma replied. “Besides I want to make sure that you get home safe.” Still puzzled at her friend’s strange behavior, Lexie sat quietly for several minutes hoping she would explain further. When she didn’t, she decided to change the topic. “Are we getting together tomorrow? “Not tomorrow,” Emma replied. “We could go shopping at the Gallerie Lafayette and Printemps. Have a late lunch at Café du Margot and finalize our plans for Christmas. It’ll be here before you know it.” “I have some things I need to take care of. But I will call you on Sunday morning and we can get together then, okay?” “Sounds good. Don’t forget my Mom arrives in the afternoon.” Lexie said wondering what things Emma needed to take care of. On occasion her friend could be aloof. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” The cab pulled up in front of Lexie’s apartment. She was surprised when Emma leaned over and grabbed her arm. “Be careful, Paris is not as safe as you think. Lock your door and check your windows.” “I promise I’ll be careful,” Lexie replied. “Are you sure you’re okay? “I’m fine. I’ll talk to you Sunday.” Lexie waved as the taxi pulled away from the curb. Emma’s eyes stared at her, but she didn’t wave back. So strange. She entered her apartment unable to shake off the sense of unease brought on by Emma’s behavior. Large by Paris standards, Lexie’s home reflected her eclectic taste. Deep red drapes covered the French doors that led to her balcony, and the pieces of furniture she’d acquired were ultra-modern in design. She took a moment to review her to do list in preparation for her mother’s visit. Most of them were ticked off. She would clean the next day. In contrast to the rest of the apartment, her bedroom was romantic with wooden shutters painted a robin’s egg blue, a bedspread to match and big fluffy pillows tossed casually about. Her bed was wrought iron with gauzy soft blue drapes. Lexie changed into her pajamas and her eyes locked on to the most recent vampire book she was reading. Her thoughts returned to Emma and the discomfort she’d experienced earlier returned. She picked up the phone to call her then smiled at her concern. I’ll worry about that tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

Ellen Chauvet lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her love for reading and writing developed at an early age and she wrote several short stories and plays which were lost over the years. In 2003 a friend introduced her to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", and Ellen was fascinated by the idea of good and evil vampires. She particularly loves Anne Rice, Charlaine Harris and Laurell K. Hamilton. 'When Darkness Falls' if the first in a series of books called 'The Vampire Redemption Series' and is adult fiction.

 

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Blog Tour: The Sweetheart Kiss by Cheryl Ann Smith with Excerpt and Giveaway

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Today’s stop is for Cheryl Ann Smith’s The Sweetheart Kiss . We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 

 


 

 

 

Jess Lucas works hard at the all-female PI firm Brash & Brazen, and after a brush with death, she’s determined to play hard too—preferably with a certain detective on the Ann Arbor police force…

Jess was stuck at a frenemy’s wedding, playing bridesmaid in a mustard-yellow monstrosity, when chaos erupted. First the bride’s ex tried to stop the wedding. Then someone really put a damper on the big day by sending a bullet through a stained glass window and into one of the groomsmen. At least her ugly dress came in handy to stop the bleeding . . .

While the poor guy is rushed to the ER, Jess gets grilled by a gorgeous cop who’s not thrilled to learn she’s part PI and part pit bull. But he has to admit she’s highly observant . . . and he observes that she’s pretty hot, too.

The thing is, Jess was walking up the same aisle as the victim, and Sam suspects she was the real target. It’s more than professional duty that makes him want to protect her—if he doesn’t arrest her first for interfering in his investigation . . .

 

 

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There was one thing guaranteed to get Jess Lucas through a wedding that she didn’t want to be in, with a bride she intensely disliked, and a headache that had spiked through her skull the moment she slipped the hideous bridesmaid dress over her head: Alcohol. The crystal clear liquid called to her with a sweet siren song from within the bottom of her oversized tote bag. There had been speculation among her friends that Amelia Earhart— and aircraft—could be found in the tote along with Bigfoot and extinct dodo birds, if the right team of explorers took on the search. Laying that rumor to rest would have to wait until she finished soaking her throbbing brain with fermented potatoes and ethanol. Jess was certain a quick dash into the changing room wouldn’t be noticed as the groom hadn’t yet taken his position at the altar. Maybe the clueless sap had wised up and was now making a run for the Ohio border. No luck. She caught a glimpse of him talking to the minister and smiling. She didn’t know him well, but felt sorry for the guy. He was so dumbstruck by love that he couldn’t see past the big teeth and enhanced breasts to the character within his future wife. But that wasn’t Jess’s problem. The ceremony was not to start for three minutes and she was quick, despite a slight buzz from previous liquor shots. Without any impediments to block her path, she could get to the bride’s room, down the 1.5 ounces of vodka left from a raid on the minibar during a trip to Vegas last summer, and be back in line before anyone noticed her missing. She just had to shake off groomsman number three. She’d brought a variety six pack of those little booze bottles, knowing that in order to survive the wedding of Mandy Mae Smith—soon to be Jones—she’d need liquid courage. Not much of a drinker, she’d managed to chug three bottles already, but her duties had kept her from the fourth. The white crinoline along the bodice of the wide fifties-prom-dress inspired bridesmaid dress was already rubbing off the top layer of skin on her left arm pit. By the time the evening came to a thank-God-it’s-over close, she intended to be ripping drunk and naked with a groomsman in a vestibule closet somewhere. After all, wasn’t a single woman entitled to be cliché at least once in her life? “Ready?” “Er, what?” Jess looked way up at tall groomsman number three, Dodger Drake. Yes, that was his name. His fake tanned orange face grinned down from a foot above her, his teeth so white that she became convinced he ate, slept, and probably had sex while wearing teeth whitening trays. “It’s time to line up,” Dodger said and his gaze dipped unapologetically to her modest cleavage pushed up under her chin by the bone-corset bodice of the dress. Gawd, she hoped that Dodger was a nickname and not some sick joke his parents had heaped on their innocent baby to toughen him up on the playground. By the way he was measuring her cup size, he was clearly angling to be her next sexual misadventure. Heck, her first sexual misadventure. She was too smart to jump into anything without weighing the pros and cons beforehand. For the last several very long weeks, she’d been weighted down by gloom over a very serious health scare. After getting good news, she’d taken a look at her life and wasn’t happy with what she saw reflected back at her. Outside of work, she’d been kind of going along without much purpose. Her social life was boring and she hadn’t had an adventure since she and her friends had been kicked off a bus and almost eaten by buzzards. She was healthy now. It was time to start living. Perhaps she should do something reckless. She’d have to make a plan. “Oh, okay,” she said and let him lead her into the line. Damn. The bottle would have to wait, she thought, as she tugged at the torturous gown. Really, who would choose mustard yellow corseted dresses with lime and red sashes for a wedding anyway? Mandy, that’s who. Dear lord, why had she agreed to this epic mess? Jess hated Mandy. Oh, they’d been friends once. Then Mandy had blossomed after getting her severe overbite corrected, become promiscuous during the last two years of high school, and slept with Jess’s boyfriend of two years, Darren. A long-winded, weepy apology had tamped down Jess’s desire to kill her, and they’d left high school as frenemies. After all, by the time Jess found out about the cheating, Darren had already done it with half of the girls in their town over the age of sixteen. So what was one more, Mandy had said. As if that made Jess feel any better. Besides, the ex-boyfriend with the best friend relationship didn’t last much longer than the time it took for Darren to untangle Mandy’s lacy thong from his braces the night the cops found them parked behind the elementary school. His head had popped up and he was grinning like he’d won the lottery, with red lace snagged on silver metal. He’d been an overeager virgin, saddled with a girlfriend who wasn’t ready to go past second base, and full of raging hormones. After Mandy, his new reputation as a stud had gained him a following of would-be-hoes who were ready to see if braces were indeed better than a vibrator on certain areas of the female anatomy. And dear Mandy had spent their senior year in high school orally copulating her way through 25 percent of the males of the senior class. Senior photos that year were particularly chipper. The young men had a lot to smile about. This kind of behavior would lead psychologists to suspect childhood trauma or some sort of mental malady. But no, Mandy just liked sex. And she would have made a dent in the other 75 percent if not for that dreaded event called graduation. So when the call from way out of left field came three weeks ago begging Jess to be part of Mandy’s big day, she had been unable to come up with an excuse quick enough to get out of it. So, here she was...bridesmaid number three. But what ticked her off most was that Mandy was so happy with Chad Jones that it sickened everyone around her. If karma had blessed Mandy with a taste of her own medicine, Chad would be currently doing it with the maid of honor behind the pulpit instead of high-fiving his best man and heading to the front of the church with a bounce in his step. Not that she was bitter or anything, Jess reminded herself. High school was nine years ago. They’d all moved on. Sure. Mandy had trotted off to college, become a lawyer, and was now marrying the man of her dreams. This ending was completely unfair to the good girls of the world. Jess glanced up the aisle to the groom and wondered if he knew his soon-to-be-wife had questionable morals. Of course he did. He was grinning like a dope who had won a life-long ride on the easy train—easy being the key word. Sloughing off envy, she promised to be happy for Mandy if it killed her. They had been close once. The odds of the marriage making it past the five-year anniversary were nil. The last she’d seen of Mandy before she’d fled the bachelorette party two nights ago was the future bride heading into a bathroom stall with a well-endowed stripper named Chaz, and he probably wasn’t helping her look for a lost contact lens between her breasts. “Do you think the marriage will succeed?” Dodger whispered, and for a second, Jess felt her cheeks warm. Was her skepticism that obvious? “Of course it will,” she replied without much enthusiasm. It wasn’t nice to say negative things about a bride on her wedding day. “Why would you think otherwise?” Dodger looked around and bent down. Some of his spray tan had rubbed off on his starched white tuxedo shirt. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. “I slept with her two months ago,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “This morning before we left the hotel, I saw her leaving Mr. Jones’s room, carrying her shoes.” Jess’s mouth dropped open. “Mr. Jones? As in the father of the groom, Mr. Jones?” She glanced to the front of the church. The older but still handsome Mr. Jones was speaking to his half-his-age date, Chandi, and the girl was giggling. What was it about weddings that sexually charged up some people? Dodger grinned. “The same.” Brushing aside that Dodger had also slept with Mandy, Jess frowned. “Wait. I thought he was sharing a room with Chandi?” Dodger tipped his head left and lifted his brows. “He is.” It didn’t take her PI skills to figure that one out. Apparently, Mandy had upped her game. For some reason, Jess found this funny. She squelched a laugh behind her hand. Suddenly, she didn’t need the last bottle of booze. This was going to be fun. “Should we raise our hands when asked if anyone objects to the wedding? It sounds like intimate knowledge of the bride would qualify you as an expert, and she slept with my high school boyfriend. We both have good reasons to object.” The guy chuckled. “Ouch. Chad slept with my college girlfriend. I say we let this play out.” “They deserve each other,” she said and he nodded. With a new appreciation of groomsman number three, she hooked her arm with his and smiled. “Agreed.” The music started and off they went. In front of Dodger, groomsman number two was shellacked and polished down to his gleaming fingernails. He hooked arms with the giggling Shelby, who looked up at him in a way that suggested she wasn’t wearing panties. “I’ve been to three weddings this summer and I have to say, you’re the hottest bridesmaid so far,” Dodger said. “Thanks.” Jess wasn’t sure if that was some sort of awkward come-on, or whether she wanted to take it as such. The man looked like an over-sized Oompa Loompa. But after surviving a recent cancer scare and deciding life needed to be lived to the fullest, she hadn’t yet ruled him out for the coat closet. Sex was a distant memory. None of her recent dates had made her want to shave her legs or put on sexy panties. Maybe it was time for a no-commitments romp for fun. Besides, he had a good sense of humor with an evil streak. She admired that in a co-conspirator.

“Save me a dance later,” she said and shot him a flirty look. At least she hoped it was flirty. “Yes, ma’am. How can I refuse?” His response definitely held a sexual overtone. The way he returned his attention to her scooped neckline left no doubt that he had a coat closet all picked out for them. She just had to say yes. Could orange be her new...something? “Off we go,” said the elderly usher/uncle of the groom, shooing them out the open double doors. The likelihood of her actually sneaking off to the coat closet with Dodger was slim, but he made her laugh and she did enjoy his company. Except for Summer’s wedding last weekend, it had been weeks since she let herself have some fun. Now that she’d been given the all clear by the doc, the cloud of doom above her head was gone. Dodger couldn’t be the only single man at the wedding. Maybe she could find someone with more substance? Someone long-term? The possibilities were endless and she was seeing life through new eyes. It was time to get back to living. The music swelled with the beginning notes of the wedding song as Jess stepped over rose petals and Dodger grinned back at the bride. Mandy kept her eyes averted from his. It turned out that neither Jess nor Dodger—who was enjoying himself immensely—had to protest the marriage. They were steps away from the altar when a shout sounded from the back of the room and brought the processional to a halt. “Mandy, wait! Don’t do this!” Jess knew that voice. She flashed back nine years. It was the cold flush of the unfairness of life taking one last stab through her fourth and fifth vertebrae to kick her back to reality. Darren, aka cheating scumbag high school boyfriend, had arrived to steal the bride. Figured. The flower girl stopped and everyone swiveled in their chairs. Jess was halfway turned around, both disbelieving and shocked that he was still tangled up with Mandy after all these years, when a loud snap echoed through the old church, followed by a scream, and groomsman number two landed at her feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheryl Ann Smith became hooked on romance at age fourteen when she stayed up all night to read The Flame and The Flower by Kathleen Woodiwiss. Her own writing journey happened much later, when one afternoon she ran out of books and decided to write her own. Previously, she has published five sexy Regency novels and one novella with Berkley in her School for Brides series.

 

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Source: http://snoopydoosbookreviews.com/?p=5816&preview=true

Bloggers write: Why I love circus books

Reblogged from BookLikes:

 

A guest post by Lora from

 

Every child is enchanted by the idea of the circus at some point in their young life. For me, this began with the story of Toby Tyler, by James Otis, alternately titled Ten Weeks with a Circus. The story was also made into a movie called Toby Tyler as well as a radio dramatisation.

 

As I became an adult, I learned that the way animals were treated in the real life circus could be brutal at times and the big cats, whom I loved most, spent their lives in cages the size of a train car. Circuses are actually not legally allowed to keep animals in the UK. So, for me, the magic of the circus is relegated to fantasy; to the world of books.

 

While fiction satisfies my fascination with life behind the scenes of the circus, some non-fiction books are also very interesting, relating what this life was really like in the days when there was no regulation to speak of to keep the activities of circus folk completely legal. While circus is primarily a performance profession, there was a time when 'hooch tents' and violations of prohibition played a significant role on the seedy side of traveling entertainment.

 

Some stories relate this side of circus life as openly as the non-fiction books, like Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. The author did her research well and many incidents, including a very amusing situation involving an elephant stealing lemonade, came from real anecdotes from circus people. There are some sad incidents concerning animals in the annals of real circus life as well, but these I try to avoid.

 

Toby Tyler, or Ten Weeks with a Circus - James Otis Water for Elephants - Sara Gruen

 

Circus books are my fantasy circus, where animals are never mistreated and it's all about the magic of entertainment. I am, however, fussy about authors doing their research properly. I have an aunt who traveled with the carnival in her youth and she taught me the differences between the circus and the carnival. A fast way to get me to abandon a book is to write in a carnival setting and mention a Big Top or to refer to circus people as Carnies.

 

These worlds have a few things in common, but distinct differences. I loved how Stephen King got around all that in Joyland  by setting the story in an amusement park owned by someone who had worked for both the circus and the carnival sometime in his past.

 

Joyland - Stephen King Mr. Stubbs's Brother: A Sequel to Toby Tyler (Illustrated Edition) (Dodo Press) - James Otis

 

I recently found another book by James Otis on Amazon, Mr. Stubbs's Brother: A Sequel to Toby Tyler. It was even free! Naturally this is high on my tbr, but I want to re-read Toby Tyler again first. These circus stories bring out my inner child and for just a little while, allow me to enter a world where it's all about the magic.

 

A Spark of Justice - J.D. Hawkins Under the Big Top: A Season with the Circus - Bruce Feiler The Advance Man: A Journey Into the World of the Circus - Jamie MacVicar

 

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If you missed the Book Love Story blog posts by BookLikes bloggers have a look here and join. Can't wait to read and re-post your book love stories! Remember to add why I love tag to your book love story.

 

Blog Tour: Backseat with the Billionaire by Lilah May with Excerpt and Giveaway

Reblogged from SnoopyDoo's Book Reviews :

 

Today’s stop is for Lilah May’s Backseat with the Billionaire. We will have info about the book and author, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :)

 


 

 

 

 

She just wants to use him for revenge.

Him. A billionaire MMA fighter whose cocky smile and washboard abs make wet panties drop left and right. She thinks she wants him for one amazing night out and end it. Boy, did she think wrong. He's about to teach her how much more she really wants.

LISA Finding out your husband's cheating is hard. Finding out it’s with a college girl is even harder. The easy part? Retribution: beating him blue with a baseball bat and kicking him to the curb. But it's still not enough.

So when Bobby Carter, fresh out of college, blows back into town with all the intensity of a hurricane, I decide I’m not done. Bobby’s everything my ex-husband is not. Sexy, aggressive, and intense. Like melt me into a puddle intense. Who cares if I used to babysit him? He’s a grown man, now. And I mean, FULLY grown.

All I wanted was a night out with him, but one taste and I’m addicted.

BOBBY When Lisa Howard finally gets rid of her cheating husband, I want to take her right then and there. I got rid of that abusive bastard and built a billion dollar empire all for her. Nothing could satisfy my ravenous hunger but taking a bite of that sweet little thing.

So when she offers herself up to me for one night, I'm not about to refuse. She's nothing like the sorority bimbos at Northfield U. She is a real woman. Sexy, mature, and an ass so fine I would give up my billions just for a taste.

But I know a taste won’t be enough and one night too short for all the dirty things I want to do to her and that deliciously curvy body.

She’ll be mine, but not just for tonight. Forever.

This is a full-length, standalone, steamy 18+ romance. No cheating or cliffhangers, and definitely a wonderful Happily Ever After guaranteed.

 

 

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LISA

 

I had no clue what I’d do. It’s the kind of situation you never plan for, never expect to have to plan for. And even if you try, even if you think you know what you’ll do or how you’ll act, you find out that the truth is: You really don’t know yourself at all. I wait, sitting in that old ratty armchair of his. The orange one that was now stained brown. The one he refused to throw out no matter how much it reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. The pictures are still on the coffee table. I looked them over carefully, in some twisted morbid curiosity. The girl couldn’t be a day over 18 and she seemed to be enjoying herself, but in some fake, exaggerated way like she was in a porn video or she learned how to act when getting fucked from a porn video. And of course, it was missionary, the boring bastard. I’m not thinking about anything, not planning, not scheming. I’m not even angry. For the first time in a long while, my head is completely clear. Like some weird meditation, all I do is sit and wait. He strolls through the front door, whistling a tune. The balls on him. Relaxed and casual, as if he didn’t just come back from fucking his teenage whore. He looks at me once but doesn’t look twice. Even though, across my lap is a silver aluminum baseball bat. The same bat that we’ve kept by the front door for our protection, for just in case. Just in case of a robbery. Just in case of a home invasion. Just in case my scumbag husband decides to cheat on me. All those years, it sat unused. Until today. I don’t know what was the last straw. The whistling, the nonchalant way he ignored me or maybe it was that shit-eating grin he had plastered on his smug face. But one second I’m sitting in the living room and the next, I’m tackling him like a football linebacker. Head down, shoulders square, straight into his unsuspecting back. He pitches forward, quite comically, crashing to the ground in a heap. All accompanied by a satisfactory crunch. And as I stood over him, something dark and violent emerged, something that wasn’t so clean and pure. Something that I kept buried and hidden for years as the perfect housewife, the perfect stay at home mom. The funny thing is, he didn’t think I would do it. The whole time, the asshole looked up at me and just laughed, smirking in my face. That is, until the first swing of the bat came down on him. And goddamn, if it didn’t feel amazing. For me. Not for him. I can still picture that deliciously depraved moment when that cheesy smile of his gave way to a look of pain and confusion. Ohhh, god! This was it! That utterly satisfying feeling. Like the good fuck he was never able to give me. As I kept raining down blow after blow, his disbelief quickly turned into one of horror, crying for me to stop. But I didn’t. It only added to my wonderful, cathartic experience. And I savored every single wince, every little whimper, feeding off his pain. Finally, he could feel what I felt. All the abuse, all the suffocating agony from living under his oppressive rule. Finally, I could give it all back to him. Let me give you a piece of advice: it’s unhealthy to repress that much shit. So don’t. Unless one day, you might end up beating your douchebag husband half to death. After a good solid minute of getting his ass beat, he finally snatches an opportunity to escape. As I take a breather, he scrambles towards the front door, running out onto the lawn. But he doesn’t get far. He’s not getting away. Not today. Cause right now, there’s a fucking animal inside me. I chase him down and knocking him to the grass, continuing my assault with the bat. I can’t seem to stop myself. Not that I want to. One part of me is filled with wrathful vengeance and the other looks on a spectator, as if I’m watching a horror movie. I really like horror movies. Suddenly, big fat hairy arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away from Donald. Donald my husband: The liar. The cheater. The piece of shit. God, I fucking hate him. Wrapped up in those thick arms, I struggle helplessly, flailing like a bug on it’s back. The man who’s gathered me up in a massive bearhug is Robert Carter, our nextdoor neighbor, with his wife Patty kneeling next to the crying Donald. Crying. Literally. Big crocodile tears. What a disgusting faker, trying to squeeze sympathy out of our neighbors. I didn’t hit him all that hard. I think.

 

 

 

 

 
Hi everyone! I'm Lilah May (well, you already know that).
I write steamy romance that will touch your heart (and your body
Ok, maybe it sounds a little corny but it's true!
I make sure my books are full of hot and dirty scenes but still has that oh so important warm sentimental love.
 
Anywho, I'm just a girl with too many dirty thoughts going through her head and I thought I'd share them with all of you!
Though I have to warn you: be prepared!
These stunning alpha male heroes I write about are straight out of my fantasies: impossibly sexy, crazy dominant, and 110% guaranteed to make your knees weak.
So you better sit down, grab a towel and leave all your inhibitions at the door (along with your panties) because my books will make you melt and squirm with HEA love!

 

Side note: I like my cookies chewy and I've learned way too late in my life that I can microwave them for ten seconds to make them chewy again. I don't hate on crunchy, though. Cookies are cookies lol.
 
Oh, and also I'm a nurse so when I get my hands on a real good book, things can get incredibly dangerous! (That's a joke for all you stuffy wet blankets. I would never risk my patients. I love them!)
 
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Source: http://snoopydoosbookreviews.com/blog-tour-backseat-billionaire-lilah-may-excerpt-giveaway

Three Giveaways - Win any of the three--and you get a copy of all three!

Reblogged from Carpe Librum:

    

 

Links are at www.PatriciaReding.com.

 

Time is running out. The giveaways end on June 21, 2017.

Giveaways: win free books and give your titles away

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If you have books to spare, want to promote and popularize you titles, give your books a second reading life, please do! With the giveaway program you can give the titles away as well as win ARCs and review copies right now.

 

Hey, I want to create a giveaway!

 

If you haven't visited the Giveaways page yet, it's hight time. Let's start with setting up a new giveaway and them we'll move on to winning some free books.

 

The giveaway can be started by all BookLikes members, readers, writers, publishers. To make you giveaway happen press the upper menu and choose Giveaways.

 

 

The very first giveaways page presents available books. Let's leave the free books aside (what?!?) and proceed to the next tab called Create your Giveaway:

 

 

The giveaway form is short and easy to follow, let's have a look at the specific spots with short descriptions:

 

Search the book title -- this will save your work and time. Once the book is found in the BookLikes catalog almost all book information will be filled up automatically (based on the details available on a book page): a book cover, a title, an author, a description note, and a book language -- they will pop up once the book is found.

 

If the book is not in BookLikes catalog, you can fill up all the date manually and upload the book cover image.

 

Fill up the giveaway dates -- the start date and the end date.

Please have in mind that if you choose a future date, you'll schedule the giveaway to go live accordingly to the start date, until then it will stay hidden and invisible for the readers and guests.

 

We've noticed that the giveaways lasting 2-4 weeks are the most effective but it's up to your how long your giveaway will last.

 

Copies -- how many books do you want to give away? 

That's easy. Decide how many books copies you're willing to share.

 

Select winners -- who will pick the winners: you or BookLikes?

If you appreciate when the hard work is done for you, choose BookLikes algorithm. This means that BookLikes will choose the winning readers based on the bloggers' reading history, BookLikes activities and other attributes. 

 

 

If you wish to create more personal bonding with the winners, choose me.

This means that when a reader requests your book he/she will have to answer the questions "Why do you want to read this book?" and you'll receive all the notes and when the giveaway comes to an end you'll be able to choose the best answers = winning readers. We highly recommend the me option :)

 

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All book formats are available, you can giveaway paper books (hardcover, paperback, mass market), e-books and audiobooks. Make sure to choose a right format for your giveaway.

 

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Book categories: select up to 5 genres the book falls into.

This information will help readers decide whether the title is for them. 

 

 

Before making your giveaway public, read the terms, tick the agreement and Save.

 

Now you just have to confirm your giveaway and it's all ready - your giveaway is on! Congratulations!

 

By the way, did you know that you can share the Giveaway news by using the giveaway widget (menu->Goodies->Widgets)? The widget can be added to your BookLikes webpage (copy the code and paste it in the customization tab in the Widget Area) or any other www webpage of yours.

 

Let's go back to the main Giveaways page (menu->Giveaways) and let's have a loot at the other tabs:

 

 

Giveaways tab: the main page where all BookLikes giveaways are listed

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My giveaways: the giveaways you've created, i.e. books you're giving away to other readers

 

Important! When your giveaway comes to an end you'll receive a notification that the winners are ready to be picked. Click the link from the notification or simply go to your giveaway and select the winners. Once it's done you'll receive the winners contact information on the very same giveaway page.

 

Now all you have to do it to send the books and set up a new giveaway!

 

 

Hey, I want to win free books!

 

The main Giveaways page presents the sneak peek into each giveaway with some core information. You can also use the filters and sorting options or just scroll down to look for a perfect book match.

When searching the giveaways, remember to pay attention to the countries the book is available for. If you've found your next read, press Enter to win.

 

 

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If it's a paperback/hardcover/mass market paperback you'll be required to fill up the postal address and hit Request button.

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Now all you need to do it to visit the Giveaways page, choose your next read and wait for it :D

 

 

Happy reading!

Blog Tour: Grayson by Crimson Syn with Excerpt and Giveaway

Reblogged from SnoopyDoo's Book Reviews :

 

Today’s stop is for Crimson Syn’s Grayson. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :)

 


 

 

She’s a wildcat in bed and she’s driving me insane! Ever since that first night I can’t get enough of Rahyne Andrews. Her kisses, her body, her moans, drive me crazy. I can’t seem to say no to her. My only problem is, that she doesn’t seem to be interested in more than my body. And I’m not about to have my control taken away from me. She either bends to my will, or I’m walking. Grayson Carter is everything I ever dreamed of and more. He’s built like a rock and knows how to satisfy my every need. But the last thing I want is to have another failed relationship. Especially, when it involves a member of the Hell’s Lovers. I’m the one in control, I’m always in control… So why is it that Grayson Carter is the only man who has ever made me beg for more.

 

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Scarlett Chase is every man’s wet dream. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew she’d be mine. That is, until I found out she was untouchable. One kiss, one forbidden touch, will have me out on the streets and stripped of who I am. Yet I want her. I need her. And I’m done following all these damn rules.

Wolf Stone is my obsession. Ever since he pulled over on that empty road, I’ve been tormented by the man. His possessive words and heated looks have me tightly wound. One touch, and he lights me on fire. But I want more. I not only want him in my bed, I want to keep him for myself. But he won’t budge, and now it’s up to me to entice his sleeping wolf.

 

 

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Grayson Excerpt 

 

 

IT WAS LATE when I entered my apartment. I sank down on the couch and stared out into the city. I lived in a high rise in downtown L.A., it offered a good view and it was near the club, I also owned the building. I had a few investments, mostly in stocks, so I did well for myself. I didn’t really have any family or anyone I truly cared about, except for Wolf and most recently, Scarlett. I used to do security for the military, and after retiring, Wolf gave me a place to stay and opened his doors for me. I was glad to have someone like Wolf. He’d been a good friend throughout the years. When he took over as President, he immediately named me VP, and it’s been that way for the last five years. The brotherhood was my refuge and although we didn’t voice it, we were a pretty tight knit family. I stood up and went to grab a beer. I headed down the hall to my bedroom, where an empty bed awaited me. Usually it didn’t bother me, but lately I’d been yearning for a warm body to press up against. Specifically, a voluptuous blonde, with eyes the color of emeralds. My cock stirred and I sighed as I took a swig of my beer and sat at the edge of the bed. Images of Rahyne spread out on my mattress kept flooding through my mind and they had been non-stop lately. It didn’t matter where I was or who I was with, I couldn’t get the temptress out of my head. It was starting to worry me. I never even thought of settling down. I lived my life peacefully, went where I wanted, fucked who I wanted, and didn’t give a shit about anything. But with Rahyne...fuck, I thought my urgency to have her was just an infatuation-something that would go away in a matter of weeks. Six months later, and my body still craved hers, more now than ever before. Running my hands through my hair I fought my desire to go looking for her and I gulped down my beer. Lying back on the bed I let her image envelop me and I pulled out my shaft-hard as a rock as usual-and stroked myself, remembering the sound of her sweet whispers, and the moans and whimpers I heard on an almost daily basis. I groaned, imagining the wonderful feeling of her tight pussy hugging my swollen member. Remembering the way she shouted my name, and how her body gripped me, made me jerk off harder. Knowing I could manipulate her body to such extremes had me grunting my release as streams of white fluid leapt out and landed on my stomach. I breathed out and splayed my arms on the mattress. Closing my eyes, I imagined her by my side, and the only thought that came to my mind, before I drifted off, was that I was going to make her mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Crimson Syn, not really, but what fun is it to use my real name. Instead I’ll use my inner goddess’ name, it’s much more fun that way. I grew up in New York City where I had a wonderful education, loving parents and awesome friends. What more could a girl ask for? I started writing at the age of sixteen. The first romance I read was Stephanie Laurens’ Devil’s Bride. Since then I have been influenced by dozens of flourishing romance authors and even more dashing and daring rogues. I must say it, but Fifty Shades was not my first erotic romance, nor did it influence me to start writing them. If you’ve never read Mary Balogh, Elizabeth Hoyt, Lisa Kleypas, Bertrice Small or A.N. Roquelaure’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, then you’re missing out. Those were my sweet introductions to erotic romance, and boy were they hot.

So here I am, after reading so many wonderful stories, I have too many sinful tales of my own not to share. I like my alphas rough and possessive, and I have no shame in saying it or writing it. I had delightfully wicked teachers growing up, their books took me to new worlds and brought me new loves. So, I want to do the same for you. I want to indulge my readers in those steamy reads that will send them into the arms of dangerous alphas and deliciously sexy rogues, without leaving the confines of their nice warm bed. If I am able to entice your inner goddesses, then I have done my job and I am satisfied. 

 

 

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