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Saturday, May 19, 2018

RELEASE BLITZ: Still Us by Lindsay Detwiler




Title: Still Us
Author: Lindsay Detwiler
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 19, 2018



Blurb

From the first time they locked eyes, Lila Morrow and Luke Bowman had a special spark. Their first kiss sealed their fairy-tale romance… until everything fell apart.

Luke’s life began when he met Lila—and in many ways, it ended when she left him. Drowning in regrets, Luke is determined to give Lila the space to be happy. The sexy, singing roofer quickly realizes, however, he really shouldn’t have let her go.

After their breakup, Lila moves back in with her family. The twenty-nine-year-old veterinarian’s transition to a life without Luke isn’t as easy as she expected. With the help of her wild Grandma Claire and her high-heel-loving sister, Maren, she starts to play the field… but she isn’t sure she’ll ever stop loving the curly-haired man from her early twenties.

Luke and Lila’s love story ended, and their individual boxes have been packed. But as they explore the single life and the dating world, both discover sometimes the love you leave behind is exactly what you need to be happy.






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Author Bio


An English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay's the English teacher cliché; she loves cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.

She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, Marjorie, and Bob; and their mastiff, Henry.

Lindsay's goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the “typical romance.” With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, “I see myself in that novel.” She wants to speak to the modern woman’s experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, “That could happen,” or “I feel like the characters are real.” That’s how she knows she's done her job.

Lindsay's hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isn’t out of the realm of possibility.


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RELEASE BLITZ: Down Beat by Max Henry




Title: Down Beat
Series: Dark Tide #1
Author: Max Henry
Genre: Contemporary/Rocker Romance
Release Date: May 18, 2018



Blurb

Some call him a rock god.
Others a celebrity bad boy.

Me? I call him the arrogant bastard who stole my concert venue.

His apology? To take me and my violin on tour with the band.
It’s an offer I can’t refuse, even if it does come with strings attached.

Because Rey Thomas isn’t who he seems.

Life isn’t pretty behind the deviant frontman’s facade.
It’s raw, ugly, and at times downright painful.
But it’s real.
And far better than the lie he presents to the world.

The man behind the face of Dark Tide is beautiful in his chaos.
All I have to do is keep him alive long enough to see that too.

Nobody ever said loving a rock star would be easy.







Purchase Links

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






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Excerpt

“You started without us.” The dark-haired cocky bastard from before makes a show of moving my road case so he can sit in the seat adjacent to mine.
The quiet guy who offered to help me carry it heads for the counter, and is immediately assailed by some desperate woman with a napkin.
“You’re really something, huh?” I muse as I lift my coffee to take a sip.
“I like to think so.” His gaze bores into mine despite the fact the horn bag with the napkin is lining him up in her sights. “What kind of music do you play?”
“What do you care?”
We enter what appears to be a staring contest while he formulates his answer; piercing eyes fix firmly on me as I hold my coffee to my chest. His black hair is spiked haphazardly, yet a few loose tendrils across his face give him the mysterious edge that I imagine his groupies love. The T-shirt he wears is torn, fashionably so, and just enough that I can get a glimpse as the ink he hides below.
I sip my coffee with a smirk.
He leans forward, the studded cuff on his left wrist making a soft clink as it hits the timber surface.
“Ohmygod,” the horn bag breathes in one rushed syllable as she arrives at my table. “I can’t believe you’re in here.”
The cocky asshole drags his gaze from me and smiles at her, laying on the charm. “Good place to get a coffee, right?”
“The best,” she gushes, oblivious to the intense standoff she interrupted.
I sit back and sip my latte, sizing up the woman. She seems to be in her late twenties, early thirties at most. What surprises me is that she’s dressed like a soccer mom. Not exactly what I’d expect a fan of a man kitted out in denim, leather, and enough chains to rival a prison warden to look like.
“Can you sign this?”
“Kris leave me any room?” He takes the napkin from her, brushing his fingers over hers.
The woman damn near comes on the spot. Slick move, asshole.
“I think there’s a space up here.” And in one swift move, Soccer Mom transforms to Desperate Housewife with the tilt of her hips. The blouse that mere seconds ago demurely hid her assets now hangs like a slack sail in the Dead Sea, giving the cocky asshole to my left the perfect view of her ample tits.
Shoot me if I ever turn into one of those.
“Thanks.” He takes the pen she offers and then scratches a quick message for her like he probably has a million times before.
She leaves with her smile a little wider, and her panties more than likely a darn sight wetter.
“Excuse me.” I pull my phone out, amused to find him frowning at me in my periphery.
“What are you doing?” He leans closer to see my screen, wafting what has to be pure pheromones under my nostrils. How the fuck do they make men’s cologne so addictive?
“I’m googling your name, since you won’t introduce yourself properly.”
He laughs, the rich sound traveling throughout the shop as his bandmate, Kris, returns with a table number.
“Shouldn’t you have like a private coffee shop, or something?” I sass. “Don’t celebrities like you get places shut down so they can drink in peace?” The result comes up on my screen, along with an assortment of very hot performance shots. Damn, this man can rock studs.
“She’s kidding right?” Kris mumbles to the cocky asshole.
“I don’t think so.” He smiles at me, leaning back casually in his seat. “I can’t believe you don’t know my name.” The jerk spreads his legs wide, a denim-clad knee perilously close to my thigh.
“Do you know every stranger you meet’s name?” I lift an eyebrow at him. “Rey?”
“Babe, I’m not a stranger.” Fucker still smiles. “I haven’t had to introduce myself for the past four and half years.”
“Since we first made Billboard,” Kris adds quietly.
I like him. He’s not in-your-face like this jackass to my left. He’s quiet, humble even. He actually makes me want to hold a conversation with him.
Rey, on the other hand…. “You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”
Kris smiles behind his linked hands, elbows on the table.
“Would you prefer to be full of me?” Rey wiggles a pierced eyebrow.
“You have to be shitting me,” I mumble, looking away.
“You never answered my question, Tabitha,” Rey taunts. “Or can I call you Tabby, since you’re like a wild cat, all claws and snarl?”
I almost smile at his comment… almost.
“Tabitha.” I look back at the guy, pissed at myself for recognizing that he is in fact pretty damn good-looking. Bastard. “And I play classical. A little bit of crossover.”
“Classical.” Rey looks like he’s fit to burst. “People still listen to that?”
“They do.” I give him a hard stare, and then shift focus to Kris. “In all honesty, I am surprised you two don’t have security or some kind of protection if you’re that shit hot.”
He lifts an inked finger and points to a burly guy outside the shop. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the man was Joe Public. He’s big, sure, but he’s dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. No earpiece, no Secret Service-style shades. He just looks… normal.
“I think his name’s Pete,” Kris mumbles. “He turned up late. Hence why you got in.”
“You think his name is Pete?” I snort a laugh.
“He’s not our normal crew,” Rey fills in. “Hired while we’re in town.”
“Oh.” Frustrated by how quickly the conversation has turned comfortable, I redirect back to the issue at hand. “Can I ask why you’re at my table?”
“We need coffee.” Rey shrugs.
“At my table, though?”
“Figured we got off on the wrong foot.” He wrinkles his nose. It’s cute. No it’s not. Focus, Tab.
“Can’t blame me for that.” I take a nonchalant sip of my coffee… and promptly choke on a bubble of foam that gets stuck on the roof of my mouth near my throat. Slick.
“Can’t blame us, either,” Rey retorts.
It’s okay, asshole. I don’t need a pat on the back or anything. Just unable to breathe for a beat there, but you just take it easy, okay?
“Rick organized the whole thing,” he finishes, unfazed by the tears teetering on the rims of my eyes.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, Kris. I am now. Thanks.” I wipe the moisture away before I end up looking bat-shit crazy with mascara down my face.
“Where you from?”
“Pardon?” I glare at Rey.
“Your accent. You’re not American.”
I give the muppet a slow clap.
His nostrils flare when a few customers look across at our table. “Are you Austral—”
I lift a palm to stop him. “Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare assume I’m Australian. There’s more than one country down there, you know.”
He stares at me, blank. Fuck my life.
“Kris, help him out here.” I down the last of my coffee.
“New Zealand,” he murmurs to Rey.
“Oh.” His face stays blank as a clean slate.
“You’ve heard of it, right?” I ask.
“Of course I have,” he scoffs.
“But you didn’t know where it was.”
He smiles, and damn it all if that doesn’t make me do so too. Stay strong. I can’t fawn over this guy like every other female on the planet, not when my objective is to make his life hell. Not that I know how I’m going to do that just yet.
“Geography was never my thing,” he explains as Kendall brings their drinks over.
She sets Rey’s down first, and then throws me a sneaky look behind his back before setting Kris’s before him.
“Later,” I mouth while both boys are distracted adding sugar.
She gives me her don’t test me eye, and then leaves.
“Well,” I announce, pushing my empty cup to the middle of the table. “This has been swell, guys, but I really must press on.”
I get halfway to my feet before a strong hand to my thigh shunts me back in the chair. Holy hell, that was intense.

“Sit.” Rey stirs his coffee, eyes on the amber swirl. “I’m not finished with you yet.”






Author Bio


Born and bred in Canterbury, New Zealand, Max now resides with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia. 

Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn’t change a thing. 

In her down time, Max can be found at her local gym, brain-storming through a session with the weights. If not, she’s probably out drooling over one of many classic cars on show that she wishes she owned.


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Friday, May 18, 2018

COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY: The Sinister Silhouette by Alex Grayson

Title: The Sinister Silhouette
Author: Alex Grayson
Genre: Romance
Cover Designer: Cover Me, Darling
Photographer: JW Photography
Model: Amanda Renee Publication Date: May 25th, 2018 Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb: “Luca…”
She whispers my name at night, filling my dreams with her haunting beauty.
Her tormented amber eyes beg me for something I don’t understand, and her agonizing pain becomes my own.
For years, she’s come to me, calling my name.
For years, I’ve never known who she was.
Until now…
Alex Grayson is the bestselling author of heart pounding, emotionally gripping contemporary romance including the Jaded Series, the Consumed Series, and two standalone novels. Her passion for books was reignited by a gift from her sister-in-law. After spending several years as a devoted reader and blogger, Alex decided to write and independently publish her first novel in 2014 (an endeavor that took a little longer than expected). The rest, as they say, is history.
Originally a southern girl, Alex now lives in Ohio with her husband, two children, two cats and dog. She loves the color blue, homemade lasagna, casually browsing real estate, and interacting with her readers. Visit her website, www.alexgraysonbooks.com, or find her on social media!
Author Links: Amazon: https://amzn.to/2rye7RI
Pre-Order Links:
“LUCA….”
The willowy feminine voice comes from behind me. I slowly turn my head first, then the rest of my body and look for the source.
Blackness. Pure and absolute. That’s all I see. Except for the tiny twinkling lights. There’s a shit ton of them. It reminds me of the times I would spend the summers with my aunt and uncle out in the country. As a kid, I would always sneak out at night and lie on the roof when the sky was clear and the moon wasn’t visible. It was my favorite time of the month, because everything was so dark, except for the stars. I’d lie out there for hours and just watch them twinkle, every so often catching one that soared across the black sky.
These aren’t stars, it isn’t a moonless sky, and I don’t fucking like this. These tiny sparks of light float right in front of me, all around me, almost like glowing specks of dust.
“Lucccaaaa….”
Warm air whispers across my ear, and I spin, expecting to find someone behind me, and still see nothing but those damn flecks of light. Squinting, I try to look past them and the darkness to see something. Any fucking thing.
Frustration grows in my stomach when nothing appears.
“Who in the hell are you?” I yell, anger deepening my voice into a growl.
My ears strain as I listen closely. All I hear is my own breathing and the slight pounding in my ears from my heartbeat. The beat only gets louder with my mounting aggravation.
“Luca.”
This time, the voice sounds rushed. It’s still whispered softly, but not the slow calling of the other two times. It’s urgent. There’s an echo too. It comes from behind me, but the echo drifts around me from every direction.
I tip my head back and snarl to the… ceiling? The sky? I have no fucking clue. “What in the hell do you want from me?”
Not expecting an answer, because I didn’t get one to my previous question, I’m surprised when the voice comes again. It’s close. So close, it almost seems like the words aren’t spoken out loud, but are just somehow in my head.
“I need you.”
My brows slash down into a frown. There’s pain in the softly spoken words, and for some reason I don’t like the emotion coming from the voice. Something sharp pierces my chest, like a dull blade slowly being sunk into my sternum, taking my breath away. I rub the spot, not understanding why the pain is there, but knowing it’s caused by the agony in the woman’s voice.
“Where are you?” My tone is gruff from the stinging ache.
“Here,” she whispers.
I whip around and still see nothing but the twinkling lights. I reach out, hoping that even if I can’t see anything, I can feel something. It’s so dark I can’t even see my hand in front of me, only the tiny lights floating by in a rush at my hurried movement.
One catches my eye off in the distance about fifteen feet from me, and I hone in on it. It’s slightly bigger than the rest. I take a step forward, then stop when it begins to grow. It doesn’t get brighter; the luminosity stays the same. It’s just the size that changes. Actually, it looks like the light is dimming the bigger it gets. Like it’s no longer a light, but a fog-like substance.
It stretches longways, getting greater and greater. I start moving toward it, but no matter how many steps I take, the same distance stays between it and me.
Something starts to form in the white haze. I squint, not really sure what it is, because it’s almost transparent now. It’s still growing, but the bigger it gets, the more it loses its solidness.
A face.
I can barely make it out through the white haze, but it’s a woman. Her features become clearer, but the more the face forms, the more it fades as well.
I take a couple of steps forward, then jerk to a halt when I remember it does me no good.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
What in the hell is this shit?
“Lucaaaa….”
The voice whispers again, and I know it’s from the translucent vision, but the lips don’t move.
The face becomes a face and shoulders, then face, shoulders, arms, and torso. Her hair flows around her, moving slowly, like it’s floating in water.
She looks at me, and the stark pain in her eyes almost has me staggering back with the force of it.
I really don’t fucking like that look. And I really don’t fucking know why. I’ve never seen the woman before. She doesn’t even look vaguely familiar. Why in the hell would her pain be my pain?
“Who are you?” I demand.
Again, her lips don’t move, but I still hear the voice inside my head. “Come to me, Luca. I need you.”
Before I have the chance to react to her words, something happens. I tense as swarms of the nearby glowing dust infuse the white mist of the woman. Her crystalline appearance starts to solidify. Her face and the upper half of her body become more visible. Her hair, which up until that point was colorless, is a deep, rich brown. It’s long, flowing to the middle of her back. Her eyes are light brown, but not an ordinary brown. They’re an unusual golden amber. I’m not sure if it’s because of her noncorporeal appearance or if that’s their natural color, but they seem to glow.
More specks of dust penetrate the woman’s form, and the more that rushes in, the brighter she gets.
She lifts her arm, as if reaching out to me, and before it registers what I’m doing, I reach out to her.
When I take a step closer, the light surrounding her shimmers brighter. This time I’m able to shorten the gap between us. I take another step, and it seems to glisten even more. I’m tall, so when I take my next step, there’s only a few feet separating us. But the brightness is now almost too much to bear. I have to squint from the sheer brilliance of it.
There’s only inches between the tips of her fingers and mine now. The pain resting in my chest intensifies the closer I get, but it’s as if there’s a force that’s pushing me toward her. Like if I don’t, the pain would be a thousand times worse. I don’t know why, but something inside me says I must go to her.
I hold my breath as the tip of my middle finger touches the glowing tip of hers. Several things happen at once. A low growl resonates deep in the back of my throat, my fingers curl into a fist and my arm drops to my side, and the fierce pain I was experiencing in my chest turns so excruciating I’d swear my heart is spilling out onto the floor at my feet.
The trifecta of feelings happens because the instant my fingertips touch the woman, her form disintegrates. The thousands of pieces of dust that make up her form fall away into space, leaving me once again in complete blackness.
I tip my head back and an angry, pain-filled roar leaves my lips at the loss of something so important. 
https://www.facebook.com/AlexGrayson02/posts/1096231077182247
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RELEASE BLITZ: I Loved you THEN by Jen Blau




Title: I Loved You THEN
Series: Bristol Backroads Duet #1
Standalone
Author: Jen Blau
Genre: Women's Fiction/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 18, 2018



Blurb

Love was supposed to protect us... but sometimes, love dies.

Emily's life defines the American Dream.
She has a husband of eighteen years, two healthy teenage daughters, and a thriving business. But it's all a lie.

Happily ever after was supposed to be enough, but her marriage is tattered, along with her self-esteem. She’s drowning and nobody sees her struggle.

UNTIL Logan, the town playboy breaks down her walls and reminds Emily who she was before putting them up.

Can she risk everything for the life she wants, or will Emily stay and continue to live the lie?






Purchase Links

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Available at the following retailers
for TODAY ONLY!







Playlist






Excerpt

We both laughed and clinked the plastic together before each taking a sip.
Licking the sweetness from my lips, I lowered my glass with both hands, eyes following it.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.” Logan drained his portion of champagne and set his glass down. Sticking hands in his pockets, he leaned his hip against the freezer to face me.
“Why do you care so much?” I lifted my face, devoid of expression. “I mean about my writing. About my work. All these years, I thought you were this tough, no feelings kind of guy. Yet, you’ve shown so much… I don’t know. Emotion. Why?” 
Logan paused, a soft grin on his face, then tilted his head and moved in closer. “I told you before. You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Squirming, a little embarrassed, I broke from his gaze and tucked my elbows close to my side, still holding onto my champagne flute with both hands.
“Well I am glad that you’re here.” I took in a deep breath and let it out slow, savoring the moment as I looked to the rich sunset forming outside. Pinks, blues, lavenders. Like cotton candy.  
I turned back, Logan’s face only inches from mine.
“Me too,” he answered. Just then, the breeze whipped in through the door. “It probably should be Ryan, though. Right?” Logan pressed his lips tight, leaned back some and looked away towards the sunset. 
My stomach clenched at the mention of my husband’s name. “Maybe. But he wouldn’t be toasting with me. That’s for sure.”
Lifting my glass, I drained what was left in it. Logan didn’t miss a beat and reached for the bottle, giving me a refill. I took a sip before continuing.
“And, I doubt he’d care. I don’t think he wants me to succeed at anything; he has no concern for my passions whatsoever. I’m not sure I’ll even tell him about this.”
I went quiet, my head spinning, not only from the phone call and the champagne, but also from the reality of my situation. The thought of Ryan dampened my celebratory mood.
“Hey…” Logan removed the glass from my hands with the tip of his fingers and set it down. “Let’s not talk about him right now. Okay?” Taking my arms, he pulled me close, wrapping them around the back of his waist. Nervous, my heart pounded as I caught the essence of carburetor mixed with his signature musky lemon cologne from his t-shirt. He’d come from working at Monroe Auto, but he somehow smelled good enough to go on a date.
“Okay,” I murmured and looked up at him. He released his hands to hold my face. Rough and calloused from working on cars all his life, his touch was still delicate as he bent, taking my lips in his.
Logan kissed me, light and gentle at first. Like I might break under his touch. But then, he dragged me closer, pressing his body to mine and taking more of me into his mouth, our kiss building intensity.
“I care,” he whispered against my skin. 
My body wouldn’t relax fully. We lived on the outskirts of town, but with the garage door open, anyone could see right in. That would start some gossip.
“What’s wrong?” He leaned back, picking up on my tension. Noooo, don’t stop.
I pointed to the open door, then wiped at my wet lips.
He smirked. “That’s easy.” He walked to the side of the door and pressed the CLOSE button. The walk-in door to the outside was still open, but this was enough to conceal us.
He took back his place with me, and I let go, running my hand up his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. A moment later, Logan drew back again, his eyes fixed down into mine. He kept his hands tangled behind my head in my long hair.
“He has no idea what he has, Em. The depth of you is incredible. I see it. I see you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry again. Logan took notice and pulled me to his chest in a hug.
With my eyes still shut, I lifted away. Logan bent, our lips crashing again, before I opened them.  I wanted to stay like this forever.
A minute later, a truck roared outside the garage door. Ryan.
“Shit!” Logan and I broke from each other. I grabbed my glass, clearing my throat; he grabbed his bottle of beer, and we composed ourselves quickly. He stayed close, though, enough to touch the side of my body. We leaned with our backs against the deep freeze as Ryan walked in the side door.
Everything that had just happened--everything that has happened--with Logan had felt right. Unfortunately, that still didn’t make it right.
“What the hell is this?” Once inside, Ryan planted his legs wide and crossed his arms. His face tightened, and he glared between the two of them.






Author Bio


Born and raised on a cattle farm in rural Nebraska, Jen still resides in the Midwest with her three children, two dogs and lots of happy cows.

A proclaimed coffee, wine, and book snob, Jen writes about women and the depth of their life stories. Even before the "times-up" and new women's movement, sharing light on women's real lives was an important part of her vision and life purpose. I Loved You THEN is her first novel.

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