Release Day Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Just Close Enough, Alabama Secrets #2 by Elizabeth Marx

A man out for revenge…

When Alexander Volkow raced into Crossroads, Alabama and bought up half of Broad Street, the entire town questioned his motives, but he didn’t care. He did it for one reason and only one reason — to find the man who went AWOL from the military with his brother, Kon. Knowing Kon, something is terribly wrong, and Alex is set on retribution.

But when all roads lead to the town’s favorite daughter, who just happens to be the missing man’s fiancée, Alex can’t help but be mesmerized by her alluring southern charm and sexy little snort.

A woman searching for a way out...

No amount of bartending, snake charming, or organic cotton growing can stop the fear blooming inside Polly Anna Coots. She knows if her MIA fiancée is found alive, he’ll want to follow through with their marriage plans, but she has had a change of heart — and not just because of the new man she can’t get out of her head. If her fiancée returns and she reneges on their future, she’ll end up DOA.

When one of Polly Anna’s snakes runs Alex off the road, sparks fly, and the two embark on a steamy collision course in a small town filled with secrets that add fuel to the smoldering fire.

Can either one of them get just close enough to acquire what they need from the other without falling in love?

*Can be read as a stand alone.*

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~*~

Excerpt

Chapter 1

DRAW ME IN, MY SWEET MEDUSA

ALEXANDER

October 

Revenge. 

They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I think I’d like mine hot, hot and bothered for me.

My car was parked behind a stand of cattails, just beyond the dilapidated-looking barn so I could admire the muscles in her legs when she put her boot in the stirrup and boosted herself up and into the saddle. Her breasts bounced when she landed, taunting me further. Her hair was as flaxen blonde as her horse’s mane, it streamed through the breeze behind her as she urged the animal into a gallop. She leaned over the horse’s neck and whispered words in the animal’s ear. I imagined her lying over me, her silky hair cascading over my bare shoulders as she used encouraging words to urge me on. 

In pursuit of my prey, I’d discovered her. I had come here after Billy Buford, the man I was certain would lead me to the whereabouts of my big brother. Whether Kon was dead or alive the trail went cold in Crossroads.

Day after day, I searched every backwoods shanty and abandoned still in Marshall County, Alabama, but Billy Buford was nowhere to be found. I should admit that I’d come up empty-handed and chalk it up to another dead end. I convinced myself I’d trekked into the armpit of this county so I could locate Billy, but I had been sticking around to keep an eye on her.

I’d met Billy once over a beer with my brother. He was thick through the neck and thick in the head, he was a bruiser and bully. I thought of him as Billy goat gruff. I couldn’t figure out what my brother Kon saw in the guy, before Billy had finished his second beer he was chasing some skank. After he left with her Kon told me Billy was engaged to a beautiful girl — belle of the south — Kon called her. I gave my brother a double take — how could anything that shallow acquire anything of worth?

Dumb luck was the only explanation I came up with because she was the most tantalizing thing I’d come across in Alabama. But I’d never been desperate enough for female companionship that I’d stalked an unsuspecting female. I expelled a heavy breath into the thick air and the rearview mirror fogged up. I chuckled at the thought of her body hovering over mine, telling me what to do. When had I ever needed directions? Especially from a sweet little piece wearing frayed Daisy Dukes. 

The binoculars felt slippery in my hands as I pushed them over the leather on the passenger’s seat. I had to stop this; I chastised myself as I rearranged myself in my seat. I was obsessing over her as much as what I’d come to this backwoods town for in the first place. 

I was here for revenge. Retribution. I’d take it hot or cold, maybe I’d have a serving of each.

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Elizabeth Marx writes deeply emotional romances that take her readers on a roller coaster ride through desire and despair. She is not afraid to push you over that first drop just when you think you know what’s going to happen next. Her writing is described as hilarious, heartbreaking, and heartwarming. Her characters achieve the ‘happily ever after’ through a journey of poignant and passionate moments.

Elizabeth resides in Chicago with her husband, girls, and two cats who've spelled everyone into believing they're really dogs.

If you want to be the first to know about her new releases please sign up for her newsletter: https://goo.gl/83blZV

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Magic & Mistletoe by Annabelle Jacobs

Christmas is Harry’s favourite time of the year, but it looks like he’ll be spending it alone. When it comes to the men he fancies, his luck is non-existent. Harry’s nerves always get the better of him—especially when he tries to talk to Andrew, the hot guy downstairs.

Everything changes when Harry meets a mysterious girl in the woods who professes to be a witch. He dismisses her claims, but when odd things start happening to him, he has to reconsider.

Andrew was attracted to Harry from the start, but their awkward encounters put him off. All goes well until Harry opens his mouth—and ruins it with his stupidity and silly comments. When Harry suddenly becomes more relaxed and they have a proper conversation, Andrew realises his first impression was wrong. As the days count down to December 25, they get swept up in the Christmas spirit and their relationship moves faster than either expected.

A little winter magic might have been the push they needed, but Harry worries that when it wears off, he’ll no longer be the man Andrew wants.

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~*~

Harry didn’t need to look behind him to have his suspicions confirmed. The smug expression on Jason’s face said it all. “I hate you,” he whispered.

Jason kicked his shin. “Sit up, smile, and look happy to see him.”

Two minutes later, Andrew was pulling up a chair and setting his drink on the table.

Harry looked at the red takeaway cup topped with a mountain of whipped cream, and grinned. Instead of blurting out the first thing that came to mind—“Are you really gonna drink that?”—because God only knew what would happen this time to make him stop, Harry paused and took a sip of his coffee.

Andrew darted a glance between Harry and Jason, beginning to look uncomfortable, as though he thought he’d interrupted them.

Harry took a deep breath, then gestured at Andrew’s cup. “Is that one of the Christmas specials?” That wasn’t so hard, was it?

He relaxed a little as Andrew smiled at him and settled back in his chair.

“Yeah, it’s the gingerbread latte. I don’t normally indulge, but it’s bloody freezing out there today, and I fancied something delicious and bad for me.” His gaze caught Harry’s and lingered.

A flare of warmth filled Harry’s chest. This was flirting, right? It wasn’t his imagination.

Then Jason opened his big mouth and ruined the moment, saying, “Yeah, I think Kyle has that effect on a lot of people.”

Harry choked on his mouthful of coffee, just managing to swallow it instead of spraying it over the table. He glared daggers at Jason, who feigned innocence.

Andrew glanced over at the counter, then back at Jason, and laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Harry bit his lip in frustration. Why couldn’t he get Andrew to laugh like that?“Yeah,” Andrew said, “He’s not bad to look at.” Then his gaze slid back to Harry and his smile softened. “Not my type, though.”

~*~

Annabelle Jacobs lives in the South West of England with her three rowdy children, and two cats.

An avid reader of fantasy herself for many years, Annabelle now spends her days writing her own stories. They're usually either fantasy or paranormal fiction, because she loves building worlds filled with magical creatures, and creating stories full of action and adventure. Her characters may have a tough time of it—fighting enemies and adversity—but they always find love in the end.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Love Found by Caylie Marcoe

Haley Cavanaugh’s heart is broken.

Shattered into a million pieces, and that’s just how she’d like it to stay.

She doesn’t believe she deserves happiness. She doesn’t understand how to move on while her life is falling apart and her reality is destroyed.

Enter Eli Park.

Eli is someone Haley thought she knew, but who turned out to be so much more than she remembered. He sees through her pain and refuses to be pushed away, even when she lashes out.

Eli’s patience is both frustrating and surprising. Haley was so sure she wanted to go on feeling nothing, but Eli stirs emotions she can’t deny.

Will Haley allow Eli to help her through this horrific time so she can find herself again? Or will she lose the only person who can help heal her heart?

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~*~

I swung back and forth for a while, letting the breeze settle my nerves. I don’t know how long I was out there for, but eventually, I heard a car pull up. The door shut and footsteps thumped up the stairs. 

“Hello,” a masculine voice drifted towards me. 

I opened my eyes and was greeted with crystal blue eyes, messy brown hair, a lopsided smirk and six feet of tall, lean man. 

“Er…um…hi,” I croaked out. Okay…the man was gorgeous. Pretty sure I was blushing.

“Haley?” gorgeous mystery man asked. 

I nodded. I didn’t know who this guy was, but he seemed to know me. And if I opened my mouth to ask him, I’m sure I would sound like an idiot again. 

He gave me that adorable lopsided grin again. “Eli.” He pointed at himself, like I should know who he was. Eli was leaning against the porch railing, staring at me with amusement in his eyes. Maybe if he wasn’t so damn attractive I could get my brain to start working again. But for now, I could only stare. 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked. “The four of us hung out together when I roomed with Noah in the dorms.” 

Holy shit. This man in front of me couldn’t be Noah’s roommate. There was no possible way he was the same guy. I hung out with the kid all the time, and this guy…no, not him. Not him at all. 

“You look nothing like you did freshman year.” I blurted out. Then quickly turned red and clamped my hand over my mouth. 

Oh God, he’s going to think you are the biggest idiot. 

Eli laughed. “I was a lot scrawnier back then. Had longer hair. Wore thick framed glasses all the time.” His voice still sounded the same. That was something at least. “When I moved back home to help my mom, I worked with my uncle at his construction company. I guess that helped me gain a little muscle.” He shrugged like he was not confident with how he looked. 

The more I stared at him, the more he was becoming familiar. Freshman year, he was this quiet, slightly nerdy kid. He always wore comic book t-shirts. He had spent most of his time on his computer or playing video games with Noah. Kyler had kept telling me that he had a crush on me, and she even begged me to go out with him a few times, but I always came up with reasons I couldn’t. Mostly those excuses dealt with my crush at that time—Drew. Blah. I was so not going to think about that douche when Eli was standing in front of me. 

I mean, I enjoyed hanging out with him as a friend, but dating? He was definitely not what I thought my type was. Though, what I thought my type was turned out to be a bunch of jerks, so maybe I should have given the nice guy a chance. 

“You okay?” he asked gently, pushing off the railing and taking a seat next to me on the swing. “You seem lost in thought.” 

I shrugged, not knowing what to say. 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” “Oh no, I do.” 

~*~

Writing Can Be Therapy 

There are two things I hear most when people talk about Love Found. 

1.Cancer is such a touchy subject, why on Earth would you write about it?

2.You wrote about it so beautifully, you must have first-hand knowledge on the subject. 

Statement one is true.

Cancer is a topic most people shy away from. It seems as though it’s almost taboo to talk about in public, even though it’s everywhere and has affected so many. But still, you don’t talk about cancer. You just don’t. 

And you definitely don’t write a book where the main character is dealing with her mom dying. 

Nobody will read that stuff. 

But you know what, I needed to write this book. I didn’t care about it being a taboo subject, I didn’t care that chances were a lot of people who read Choose Us weren’t going to read Love Found. All I cared about was writing this story. 

It was a sort of therapy for me. 

Because you see, the second statement is also true. 

I lost my mom to cancer when I was ten years old. All of my childhood and all that I remember about her revolved around cancer. And I am 100% sure I kept feelings about that buried for many years. 

This is the story my brain needed me to write. And I don’t think I realized just how much I needed to write it, until I was almost done. 

I wouldn’t go as far to say this story was semi-autobiographical, because Haley is way cooler than I ever was and my life has zero parallels with hers, except for the mom thing. 

But I would say, this is what I would have wanted to happen, had I lost my mom at 22 and not 10. 

As a ten year old, you don’t really grasp everything that is going on….and you definitely don’t grasp the reality of everything in your life that will happen without your mom there. 

When you’re ten, it’s even hard to grasp on to the fact that your mom is dying. 

And of course, I kept any feeling buried deep. 

Love Found was an ode to everything that I missed out on. It was everything I wish I could have done/said to my mom before she passed. 

It was my mind playing out what I would have done if I was older and given the time to say goodbye.

But this is also two-fold now. Not only was I writing it from a daughter’s perspective, but I also wrote it from a mother’s view. How would I want my daughter to deal if I was dying? What advice would I give to her, knowing I only had a few moments like that left? How to make sure my daughter won’t shut people out and pretend to be strong on her own? 

So while writing this book was therapeutic for me, I also had the hope that someone who was maybe in the same situation would pick it up, and maybe in some small way it could help them cope with everything that was happening in their life. 

If there is one thing I learned from my mom’s death, is that it does get better. And you are capable of moving on with your life.

Born and raised in the frozen tundra of Wisconsin, Caylie fell in love with reading at a young age. With her lively imagination, she created numerous stories in her head throughout her childhood and teenage years.

Her first novel, Choose Us, released in April 2014 and became an Amazon Bestseller. 

When she isn't slaving away at the keyboard, Caylie is an avid reader, and lover of coffee... copious amounts of coffee. She also has an unhealthy addiction to coffee mugs, chapstick, water bottles, football, and tv shows--binge watching is her favorite.

She chases her two kids around the house all day, and has a husband whom she adores. 

If you want to stay tuned in to all of the new release news, sign up for Caylie's spam-free newsletter. It only comes out when something exciting is happening...promise! 

http://eepurl.com/T7sp5

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Release Day Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Act Like It by Lucy Parker

This just in: romance takes center stage as West End theatre's Richard Troy steps out with none other than castmate Elaine Graham

Richard Troy used to be the hottest actor in London, but the only thing firing up lately is his temper. We all love to love a bad boy, but Richard's antics have made him Enemy Number One, breaking the hearts of fans across the city.

Have the tides turned? Has English rose Lainie Graham made him into a new man?

Sources say the mismatched pair has been spotted at multiple events, arm in arm and hip to hip. From fits of jealousy to longing looks and heated whispers, onlookers are stunned by this blooming romance.

Could the rumors be right? Could this unlikely romance be the real thing? Or are these gifted stage actors playing us all?

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~*~

It would have helped if she’d got further than the couch part of the couch-to-5k training plan she’d printed off the internet. Lainie crossed the finishing line and immediately dropped her head toward the ground, leaning her hands against her thighs and fiercely rejecting the urge to vomit. She was embarrassingly unfit, but if the chain-smoking, foulmouthed comedian two steps ahead of her could finish with a smile on his face and no visible signs of nausea, then so could she. She straightened with an effort, cringing as her back made an audible cracking sound. Performing in a play was a physical job, for God’s sake. It required stamina. She didn’t even have the excuse of sitting behind a computer all day.

Camera lights flashed as more participants made it over the line. They included several soap actors, a controversial political commentator, a popular abstract artist, and a DJ from Radio 1. The fund-raising committee had managed to put together a respectable hit list of names for the Shining Lights UK 5k, considering that Fun Runs were among the least popular of charitable events. She couldn’t even say the term without an ironic inflection on the first word. What kind of half-witted masochist actually enjoyed running on a drizzly October morning in London? On a weekday, no less, when there were plenty of people about with laptops and coffee cups, observing the mania with perplexity.

Lainie had tried to suggest an alternative—a bake-off, a rock concert—but the director of the foundation was a jogging enthusiast who refused to believe that other people might not share his predilection for spandex. She saw him now, standing by the refreshment table, doing some kind of yoga stretch and looking cool and unfazed. He didn’t even have sweat stains in his armpits. Unnatural.

“Well done!” he called to her. “How was that?”

About thirty-five minutes of pure, wheezing hell, thank you for asking.

“Great,” she said, desperately sucking air into her abused lungs. “Brilliant way to start the day.” If you enjoy unrelenting pain. “I beat my personal best time.”

Which was true, in the sense that she had never run a 5k before and hopefully never would again.

Oh, well. It was all money for worthy coffers.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” he enthused. “Nothing more invigorating than an early morning run.”

The poor man had obviously never had early morning sex. Or a caramel latte.

He nodded toward the throng of spectators, shivering under their support banners. “Good to see the SOs out in force, as well.”

“The SOs?” she asked blankly, trying to follow the direction of his gaze. Had she failed to swot up on necessary athletic jargon as well? Safety Officers? Sports Officials? Sulky Octopi? She had no idea.

“Significant others. Always helps to have a cheerleader on the sidelines, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. “Yours looks a bit worn around the edges. Dragged him out of bed early, did you?”

Completely at sea, Lainie didn’t respond. Then she finally saw what—or rather whom—he was looking at. Richard was leaning against a pop-up art installation. The enormous statue of a polar bear wore an identical frown and a similar amount of facial hair. The bear was evidently very worried about the status of global warming; a stroppy and still unshaven Richard appeared more concerned with his own warmth, or lack thereof. His hands were thrust in his pockets and he was doing the standing jig-dance of the cold and crabby, bobbing from one foot to the other.

Absently excusing herself from the grinning director, Lainie hurried over to him, blowing on her own ungloved hands. Now that she had stopped running, the chill was creeping in.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, amazed and irritable. This had not, as far as she knew, been on their agreed list of activities, and she couldn’t imagine he was pining for her company. She felt justifiably annoyed with him for turning up when she was a red-faced, snot-nosed mess. Not that she had ever exactly bowled him over when she was a painstakingly curled, professionally made-up siren, either.

Although he hadn’t seemed repelled during that one rain-saturated moment earlier in the week. Which she was never going to think about again. She’d been telling herself so all week.

He hadn’t wanted to kiss her.

Had he?

~*~

Lucy Parker lives in the gorgeous Central Otago region of New Zealand, where she feels lucky every day to look out at mountains, lakes, and vineyards. She has a degree in Art History, loves museums and art galleries, and doodles unrecognizable flowers when she has writer’s block. 

When she’s not writing, working or sleeping, she happily tackles the towering pile of to-be-read books that never gets any smaller. Thankfully, there’s always another story waiting.

Her interest in romantic fiction began with a pre-teen viewing of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (Firth-style), which prompted her to read the book as well. A family friend introduced her to Georgette Heyer, and the rest was history.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Clean by Mia Kerrick

High school senior Lanny Keating has it all. A three-sport athlete at Lauserville High School looking at a college football scholarship, with a supportive family, stellar grades, boy band good looks… until the fateful day when it all falls apart.

Seventeen-year-old Trevor Ladd has always been a publicly declared zero and the high school bad-boy. Abandoned by his mother and sexually abused by his legal guardian, Trevor sets his sights on mere survival.

Lanny seeks out Trevor’s companionship to avoid his shattered home life. Unwilling to share their personal experiences of pain, the boys explore ways to escape, leading them into sexual experimentation, and the abuse of illegal drugs and alcohol. Their mutual suffering creates a lasting bond of friendship and love.

When the time finally comes to get clean and sober, or flunk out of high school, only one of the boys will graduate, while the other spirals downward into addiction. 

Will Lanny and Trevor find the strength to battle their demons of mind-altering substances as well as emotional vulnerability?

Clean takes the reader on a gritty trip into the real and raw world of teenage substance abuse.

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~*~

PROLOGUE

Lanny 

Trevor wouldn’t even look at me when I walked over to the gas station this morning to say hi. And Jimmy’s Fuel Stop is like three miles from my house so it took a major effort to walk there, especially since I’ve been feeling like total crap lately. Another one of my shaky human bonds bites the dust. I need to go out and get myself a cat. 

“Can’t you see I’m working, Keating?” That was all he said. But I’ve always been good at reading between the lines. I could tell what he was thinking as he stood beside the gas pumps, totally caught up in not looking at me. “Take a hike before you get me fired, loser. Some of us got goals in life....” So I took off before he had a chance to make me feel like I shouldn’t have ever made an appearance on the planet earth. But I still know it would have been better had I never been born...maybe Joelle would still be okay. 

It’s Saturday afternoon and nobody’s home. Mom and Dad are probably off at the park with Joelle, sloshing through the wet snow together so she gets her daily exercise. Or maybe they took her to the make- your-own-sundae-place to improve her fine motor skills by sprinkling sweet toppings on big scoops of ice cream. I’m in Mom and Dad’s bathroom, bent in half with my head stuck in the closet, searching the cluttered shelves for anything that will get me high enough to escape. And I mean anything.


That’s when I see the cough syrup. The bottle in front is almost new, and there’s an older bottle of a different brand right behind it, little more than halfway full. Seeing these medicine bottles reminds me of something Chad suggested about a week or two ago— that we should try robo-tripping. He told me that if we drink enough cough syrup, the DXM in it would get us high in a “super blissful, tingling-body-parts way,” which sounded pretty decent to me then and still does now. Not completely surprised I remembered Chad’s exact description of a DXM high, I thank God for this dextromethorphan stuff that suppresses nasty coughs, because it looks like I’m going to find my much-needed buzz after all. 

Pleased that I don’t have to resort to sniffing glue from the tube on my father’s basement workbench or huffing my mother’s hairspray—and believe me I came close—I snatch the bottles with a shaky hand. They’re both sticky with the syrup that dripped down the side last time one of the Keating’s had a major head cold accompanied by a hacking cough. Licking my fingers provides me with a hint of the cherry flavor I’m probably going to be barfing up later tonight. But I don’t care. I can’t get through a single day without some help, and by that I don’t mean help from my human friends, seeing as I have none left. 

The walk to the shed seems longer than ever. It’s an effort to so much as put one foot in front of the other. I haven’t eaten anything for a full day; I’m sure that’s why I feel like such crap. And it’s not like I want to think about this stuff, but I can’t stop myself. The “stuff” I don’t want to think about is really people. The people I have hurt so much lately because of my bad habits. 

This list starts with my little sister Joelle, who I told to “stuff a sock in it” when she asked me to read that goddamned book about a kid going to school—for the zillionth time! “School’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Jo. Stop being so damned excited about it! Those kids are gonna tear you to pieces and won’t even wait until you turn your back to do it!” It hurts too much to remember the expression on her face right after I told her that, so instead I stare beyond the leafless trees into the gray sky and think about my parents. 

I’ve hurt Mom and Dad a lot too, because they know I’m sick, they just don’t know exactly what’s wrong with me. And I’m not sure how much they care. Their plates are too full already with Joelle’s problems, I guess. 

I glance down at the two bottles of cough medicine dangling from between my fingers and remember Chrissy and Robyn, who I use like toilet paper. They can do way better than me in the study-buddy department. 

I trip over a root that crosses my path and fall to my knees, but just as quickly drag myself back to my feet. A stray root isn’t enough to stop me from getting to where I’m going. 

I’m almost at the shed now, and I can’t avoid thinking about him any longer. Trevor hates me. He never calls anymore, never asks me to go to the shed to drink some beer and fool around. He just looks at me in the hallway at school with angry disgusted eyes, and tells me every chance he gets “you’re fucking up your life and I’m not gonna let you fuck up mine.” 

Trevor Ladd...the ultimate untouchable. If I could’ve made somebody like him want to be with me, I would’ve surely been able to win my parents back. Well, no such luck. I’m more of a zero to Trevor than I ever was...and Mom and Dad still don’t care. 

Blew my entire life sky high. Which is where I’ll be soon, if all goes according to plan. I lift each bottle of sticky sweet cough medicine to my lips and kiss them, one by one. 

Just the sight of the tiny, beat-up brown shed fills me with an indescribable sense of relief, probably like the feeling of coming home after years at sea. As soon as I push open the door, I see that Trevor isn’t here and I’m illogically disappointed. But Trevor can’t save me from myself. He did his duty; he tried to get me clean, and he got clean in the process. 

Way to go, Trevor. 

Alone in a frigid shed in the middle of the woods, I’m more than eager to suck down a couple bottles of cough medicine so I can be somewhere else...someone else. A vision of Landon Keating forms in my mind—not Lanny, the student, or Lanny, the athlete, or Lanny, the son and brother—but the near-future version of me when I’m “simultaneously mellow and stimulated,” if the online experiences I’ve read about taking DXM are accurate. Sad truth is, I’ll take just plain disoriented. Any effect will be fine if it whisks me away. 

I drop down to the cold floor and without ceremony open one of the small bottles. The cough medicine goes down more easily than I thought. 

Cherry-berry-sweet-thick-burning-soothing- pleasure-pain. It doesn’t take too long. 

Itchy as hell...belly’s on fire....


“Read to me, Lanny...read it again!

”Can’t feel my legs at all....


“Wishes don’t wash dishes, son.”


Can’t stop barfing.... So sick....


“Take a hike, Keating—you filthy, no-good, loser boozer-druggie!”


Blew it with Trevor...blew it with everybody. 

Can’t breathe...need a breath.... Gonna die here alone.

~*~

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to CoolDudes Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

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Book Promo & Giveaway! Forged In Fire, Delos #3 by Lindsay McKenna

Pediatrician Dara McKinley loves her job. So how could she say no when her sister asks her to come to Kabul for a few weeks to offer medical assistance at a local orphanage? Terrified of the dangers surrounding her, Dara finds unexpected solace in the protective arms of Sergeant Matt Culver. Transfixed by the warrior with the exotic gold eyes, can Dara overcome her fears?

Matt, a Delta Force operator, has always listened to his instincts, and they have yet to steer him wrong. So when he sees the alluring blond belly dancer at Bagram’s annual holiday show, he knows without a doubt that she’s “the one.” Now he just has to convince her to take a chance on him…and love. If they survive…

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Lindsay McKenna lives her life as a risk taker, and it shines through the books she loves to write: romance, adventure and suspense. She started writing at age thirteen and continues to hone her writing skills to this day. She sold her first romance novel in 1981. The rest is history.

Because she went into the military, this experience became the backbone of her writing—she is credited with writing the first military romance novel (Captive of Fate, 1983, Silhouette Special Edition) and has created a thriving sub-genre within the romance field! As a New York Times Best Selling author, she has sold 23 million books and in 32 foreign languages in her career thus far. Her many experiences in the U.S. Navy are backdrop for her understanding of the military in general, and also her very successful Morgan’s Mercenaries, which is an ongoing series in Silhouette to this day! Forty-five books strong!

Lindsay has gone Indie in 2015 and has created a new family saga on par with Morgan’s Mercenaries It is known as the DELOS SERIES. There will be paperback and eBooks created under Blue Turtle Publishing, her company for her fans. Readers who love Morgan and his family are bound to fall in love with the Culver family. Delos is romantic suspense, which Lindsay is well known for. It took her five years to create and bring DELOS to her readers. It was worth the wait, but we’ll let you decide that.

Lindsay loves to hear from her readers and loves to know what they’d like to see her write next. Stay up with the latest on the Delos Series here. Please visit her Web site at www.lindsaymckenna.com. And be sure to sign up for her free quarterly newsletter. It contains exclusive content found nowhere else on the Net. Plus, giveaways and other surprises, to her loyal and faithful subscribers!

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Grab a FREE Ebook copy of 

LAST CHANCE

The Prequel Novella to NOWHERE TO HIDE

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Don't miss DELOS Series Books 1 & 2, 

NOWHERE TO HIDE & TANGLED PURSUIT

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Mikky's Reviews! What Happens At Christmas by Jay Northcote

When two friends pose as boyfriends, could what happens at Christmas turn into something more?

Justin is recently and unhappily single. Christmas is coming, and he doesn’t want to face his ex alone at their office party. So Sean—Justin’s best mate and long-time secret crush—volunteers to go with him and pretend to be his new flame.

Sean has always lusted after Justin from afar, but there’s never been a good opportunity to ask him for more than friendship. Posing as Justin’s boyfriend isn’t a chore, and if Justin wants to rebound onto him, Sean’s more than willing. At the party pretence and reality blur, and a kiss on the dance floor leads to a night of passion. 

In the aftermath, they both assume it was a one-time thing until fate intervenes. Stuck together in London over the holidays, they give in to temptation again. But what happens at Christmas stays at Christmas... right?

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I always shy away novellas because, in my opinion, there’s never enough information to back up the story and things always happen too fast, there’s no real development.

Jay, on the other hand, has always managed to fit an entire story in just a few pages. With a few well placed phrases here and there, the reader never feels like there’s something missing. This is one of the things that I love about her books.

What Happens At Christmas is the story of two old friends who, after drifting apart for a long time, find their way to each other again. 

Misunderstandings and their own fears have caused Sean and Justin a lot more hurt than was necessary but, it’s now time to set things straight and grab what might be their second and last chance at a life together.

So sweet and funny, and romantic, and intense are Jay’s books.

If there’s one author who’s short stories I’ll never say no to, that is her. She has a way of writing that pulls you in and holds you captive until you’ve read the very last line. 

I can honestly say that she’s getting better and better with every book she writes.

Another add on my “favorites” list.

Happy Reading!

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her husband, two children, and two cats.

She comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content. One day, she decided to try and write a short story–just to see if she could–and found it rather addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Legal Briefs, Bathhouse Stories #3 by Kyan Christopher

Josh works hard. Between school and an internship at an investment firm, he has little time and even less funds for an adventurous lifestyle. When a friend buys him a membership to a bathhouse, he encounters his knight in shining armor. But when his regular hookup seems to be too good to be true, suspicions and lies may end the relationship before it even starts. 

Kimball’s law firm sends him to New Orleans to expand their Dallas law firm into the Crescent City. Deciding to have a little pleasure while in town for business, Kimball falls for a younger guy that he wants to spend time with. But living his life with secrets may prove to be his undoing, and moving to New Orleans to live out his happily-ever-after may become a distant dream.

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~*~

Kimball

Once my last interview for the day is over, I decide on a light lunch and run to a deli around the corner. I’ve only been to the French Quarter a few times, but I’m quickly learning my way around the area. 

Stepping through the door, the aroma of fresh baked breads and hearty soups fill my nostrils. I look towards the menu and read the daily specials posted behind the cashier. The writing boasts clam chowder, turkey club on rye, and spinach quiche. They all sound great, but since the weather has turned chilly, or at least chilly for the South, I decide on the chowder. 

After placing my order, I sit down at one of the tables to sip on my sweet tea and wait for my order. A few minutes pass before I hear one of the clerks call out. “Order for Josh.” 

A young man walks toward the counter. His lean frame catches my eye. Wearing slacks and a button down, long sleeve shirt, I’m grateful he isn’t wearing a jacket since I get a great view of his ass. 

Before I realize it, he’s turned around and I’m staring at his crotch. My eyes quickly move upward and I know I’ve been caught spying. Glints of yellow and green meet my eyes from beneath a mop of golden hair. I smile sheepishly and notice he gives me a quick smile and a nod before walking towards the door and exiting with his order in tow. Damn. He’s probably one of the cutest guys I’ve ever seen. I commit to memory his facial features. His strong jaw line, high cheekbones, and those eyes. Those gorgeous, piercing eyes. 

~*~

Kyan Christopher was born and raised in Louisiana. A southern boy who loves the city, he is a romantic at heart. Never thinking he would become an author, a fan fiction piece he wrote inspired a series that launched his desire to weave tales of passion and romance. Kyan is supported by his loving partner of 15 years. They live in the South with their three four-legged kids.

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