Monday, September 30, 2019

Cover Reveal for Exquisitely Hidden by M. Jay Granberry.




Title: Exquisitely Hidden
Series: Sin City Tale #2
Author: M. Jay Granberry
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs
Photo: Regina Wamba
Release Date: November 20, 2019



Blurb

He was everything I needed when I thought I had it all…
As front man for the band everyone’s eyes are on me.
I bask in the spotlight
Because it hides the flaws.
Everyone has secrets.
Mine will ruin everything I’ve built.
My career, my music, my life…
But keeping this secret?
It’s breaking my heart.
I knew how we would end before we started
And still I can’t resist him.
Not everyone will understand.
But I do.
It’s simple.
He’s the man I’m meant to love.
How long can I deny who I truly am?
Should I keep my secret or risk it all?







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Author Bio


M. Jay Granberry is first and foremost an insatiable reader.
Among her favorite things are classic fairy tales, smutty books where characters have heart, old lady sweaters (preferably chunky knit), gift baskets (giving not receiving), and charcuterie trays (green olives, smoked cheese, and Genoa salami).
She is a true Las Vegas native, the one in Nevada not New Mexico, and to answer the most frequently asked questions about growing up in Sin City…
  • No, she doesn’t live in a hotel.
  • No, she has never been a stripper although she does know some.
  • Prostitution is absolutely illegal in Clark County (Las Vegas)!
  • And what happens in Vegas does indeed stay in Vegas.
M. Jay earned a degree in words and stories, and after fifteen plus years of doing everything other than writing, she penned her first novel.
Giving a voice to characters, that are strong yet fragile, that are sometimes uncomfortably real, that express love in dirtiest ways with the sweetest sentiments is honestly a dream come true.


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elease Blitz for Bad Apple by Gemini Jensen.




Title: Bad Apple
Series: Bad Creed #1
Author: Gemini Jensen
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Bully Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Senior year is supposed to be the time of your life. Keyword: Supposed. 

But I’ve just been shipped off to a new school. Sentenced to hard time deep in the heart of Hicktown, USA. 
I left everything behind—my friends, my girl, my band, my ambitions
Besides graduating, I thought there was nothing left to strive for. 

Then, I meet her...
Pretty. Preppy. Popular. Basic. 
Most importantly, daughter of the enemy.

And now I have a new vision...
Rip away her crown. 
Knock her off her pedestal. 
Wear her down until she’s stripped bare. 
She has no idea what’s coming for her. 

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and the Creed family tree is full of bad apples. 
But me?
I’m the most rotten of them all. 







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Excerpt

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” His words come out a taut, restrained, and he stares straight into my eyes, delivering the blow. I guess I’m becoming immune to his antics, because I just nod my head, biting back the smile that desperately wishes to break free.
Maybe you do. But not nearly as much as you wish…
“And you’re still going to give me the most precious thing you’ve got right now, even knowing I’ve got no love for you? Knowing I don’t even like you, not even a little bit?”
I roll my eyes. If he’s trying to scare me away, to make me second guess myself, it’s not going to work. And if that’s the case, I think that speaks more to his own shitshow of feelings and not being able to sort through them, than anything I’ve done.
“Steph says sex angry sex is the best. I’m betting hate sex might be even better…” I shoot him a cocky smirk.
“How will you know? You have nothing to compare it to…”
“Not now, maybe. But I will one day.”






Author Bio


GEMINI JENSEN’s love for reading began at a young age, and her love for writing was born not long after she learned how to put pen to paper. When she was in 2nd or 3rd grade, she won a poetry contest for all the elementary students in her county. 

She has a passion for all things romance-related, particularly angsty, forbidden, and slow-burn romances. Taboo stories are another guilty pleasure. 

An avid reader, she’s been enjoying the romance genre much longer than she should be able to admit, stealing her mom’s books and returning them before anyone noticed they were missing. 

Born and raised in Western North Carolina, she still resides there with her family—her husband and their two kids...along with three dogs, and a rabbit named Ted Bunny. She enjoys anything related to creativity, Disney, and cooking. 


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Cover Reveal for Underneath the Sycamore Tree by B. Celeste.




Title: Underneath the Sycamore Tree
Author: B. Celeste
Genre: Contemporary Stepbrother Romance
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Release Date: November 1, 2019



Blurb

It happened in stages.
My father left.
My twin sister died of an incurable autoimmune disease.
My mother started breaking down.
Then I was diagnosed with the very thing that took my other half from me.
That was when I realized Mama’s eyes turned gold when she cried.
So I moved in with my father and his new family—new wife, new son, new stepbrother.
Kaiden Monroe made me feel normal.
Hated. Cared for. Loathed. And … loved.
Somewhere along the way, I’d found solace in the boy with dark eyes.
But everything happens in stages.
And nothing good ever lasts.







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Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Mama’s eyes are golden when she cries. Not like mine, which are a murky shade of dirty pool water—not fully green or brown, but a mixture of the two. Though when I was just shy of ten years old and saying goodbye to my sister, Mama told me that my glassy gaze was speckled with emeralds just like Daddy’s.
But Daddy wasn’t at Lo’s funeral. Not when the pastor spoke the eulogy to the half-empty church, or when the slow toll of cars paced the streets to the cemetery, or even when they lowered the kid-sized white coffin into the ground. Mama and I watched every step of the way. Her eyes trained on the half of her heart sinking into the dark soil, never to be seen again, while mine stared off into the distance waiting for Daddy’s familiar face to appear.
Looking back now, Lo had suspected the end of our parent’s marriage long before Daddy packed his things and left. She always knew it’d end that way.
I wondered what else she knew.
Mama wipes a stray tear from her eye, hoping I won’t notice how they glisten in the fluorescent lighting of the drab white room. I want to tell her I’m all right, that everything will be fine. But the weak attempts of comfort would roll off her tense shoulders in disbelief.
When Lo was diagnosed with lupus it was too late to save her. The disease had eaten away at every piece of her—body, skin, and organs. Nobody knew what would happen if it’d gone untreated for too long. No matter how hard Mama tried controlling the disease, it couldn’t be fought.
Logan died in her sleep.






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Author Bio

B. Celeste’s obsession with all things forbidden and taboo enabled her to pave a path into a new world of raw, real, emotional romance.

Her debut novel is The Truth about Heartbreak.


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Excerpt Reveal for Book'em Piper by Danielle Norman.




Title: Book'em Piper
Series: Iron Badges #3, Iron Orchids #10
Author: Danielle Norman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 8, 2019



Blurb

I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, an area that even the cops avoided.
The only light in my dark, was the boy next door. He was my hero.
And I was his Sunshine, at least that is what he called me.

Liam Kane wasn't just my neighbor, he was my first and only crush. 
He looked after me when I couldn't look after myself. 
When he disappeared my life returned to an endless grey. 

Now after all these years we're face to face. 
But we're standing on opposite sides of the law.    
He's a part of the Heretics MC and I'm a deputy. 

I’m all grown up and more than capable of handling myself.
But I dream about Liam’s capable hands.
Everything has changed... except my feelings for him.







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Excerpt

Chapter One


“Keep talking there, Twinkletoes, I’ll marry your dad and make you my stepchild.” I glared at three teenage girls who were destined to grow-up and be a drain on some man’s wallet as they walked past me on their way to the yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
“God, how manly.”
“I bet she’s single.”
“Hasn’t she ever heard of makeup?”
But seriously, what was up with teenagers these days? I was a fucking deputy in a fucking uniform and they still had the audacity to give me attitude. 
“If I ever say, that I want to be a cop, shoot me, will you?” One of the girls asked her friends.
“They won’t have to, I’ll do it for them,” I said in a low whisper. The entire time they were cataloging my flaws and their disdain for my job, I was straddling my sheriff’s motorcycle, while parked in a convenience store’s parking lot. The owner had been having problems with teenagers coming in after school harassing his patrons. Case and point.
A loud wolf whistle pierced the air, and I turned to find a boy hanging out of a truck. I rolled my eyes as the girls started to giggle. 
“Oh my god, Devin just whistled at you,” one of the girls said.
“I can’t believe it, does that mean he thinks I’m pretty?”
“Oh, Breezy, of course it does. You’re so pretty,” her friends reassured her.
“You really think so? I need to lose weight . . .” 
I smiled as I watched her twirl one loose strand around a finger. The only thing missing was her blowing a giant wad of bubble gum. It was all a little too cliché for me.
The boys in the truck pulled out and the girls got into their car and chased them. In their pursuit they plowed through an intersection ignoring a stop sign and cutting off several cars. 
I rolled my eyes. Fuck.
Nothing beat the feeling of twisting the throttle, the sun beating down on my back, or the vibration between my legs. Holy shit, I couldn’t believe that I just thought that, but it was true. There was just something about being on a Harley, and I was one of the lucky few who got to ride to my heart’s content since I not only rode for fun but also rode for work.
Okay, one thing beat all of that—the adrenaline rush I got every time I flipped on my lights, which I did a second before I went after the pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Some days, karma was a bitch and others she was your best friend, kind of like today. Yeah, Karma and I, we go way back.
“Well, hello, ladies, it seems that you were in a hurry.” I slightly lowered my sunglasses and smirked at three stunned teenagers. “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”
“I can’t get a ticket; I’ll be grounded from my car.”
“You probably should have thought about that before you blew threw the stop sign and cut off those other vehicles.”
“But we came out of the parking lot and turned right. The stop sign is, like, right there, she already stopped and checked when she came out,” the blonde explained, obviously acting as the leader of the pack from the passenger seat.
“Number one, that doesn’t matter. You have to stop at every stop sign. Number two, you didn’t stop at the one in the parking lot either.”
“Just give me the ticket.” The driver turned to her friends. “I’ll just pay it before anyone knows.” 
“I’m actually writing you for two different tickets for failure to come to a complete stop as well as reckless driving since you cut off those other cars.” I glanced down at the registration I held in my hands. “Oh, this isn’t your name on the title of the car.”
“No, it’s my dad’s. He gave me the car for my birthday.”
“I’m going to have to call your parents since it is in his name.” I glanced down at her driver’s license and bit back a scoff. Breezy Kidd, yes, that was her fucking name, no shit.
“You can’t do that,” the girl in the passenger seat demanded. “This is harassment. You are harassing us.”
I leaned down so I was at eye level. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Umm, actually you do. All three of you have to hand your IDs over to me.”
The one girl in the back seat complied and passed hers forward, but the girl in the passenger seat was on my last nerve. “I don’t have it with me.”
“Here’s the issue. Your friend Breezy is eighteen and has committed enough traffic violations that I can write her up for illegal right hand turn, failure to yield right away, careless driving, illegal lane change, and reckless driving, which is criminal, requires her attendance in front of a judge, and can cause her car to be impounded. So, either you comply with the law or the law will not be in your favor.” 
Breezy jerked her head and stared at the passenger. “Hand over your license.”
“I’d listen to your friend. Because if the car is impounded, I’m going to have to call a squad car to come get you until you present your ID. We need to make sure you don’t have any warrants or that you aren’t a minor.” Finally getting through to her, she grabbed her license from her bag and handed it to me. I looked at the name. Brittany. Why wasn’t I shocked? “Now I’ll start with you, give me your parent’s phone number,” I said to the driver. She called her dad and was instantly in tears. Clearly, she knew how to play him. The girl in the back seat, Mikayla, who’d been the quietest, called her mom, had tears in her eyes, and even apologized to me . . . there was hope for the future yet. Brittany called her mom, and it was clear that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Mom, Breezey got pulled over. Some female cop.” The girl paused, and it didn’t take Neil Fucking Armstrong to figure out that they were bashing me. “Yeah, probably, she looks like she was probably checking us out. You’re right, that’s probably why she pulled us over. Okay. Love you too, bye.” 
When all three were done, I’d written Breezy a ticket with three different citations, and then I let them go. And whoever said that being cop wasn’t fun? 
It was close to quitting time, so I eased into traffic and headed back toward the stations, but before I got far, my radio crackled with an incoming a call. 
“Orange County, Commercial, Signal twenty-nine, Alpha, 441 and Waterbridge.”
I wanted to get home as much as the next person, but I was only two blocks away, and as much as I hated it, this was part of my job too. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, reference signal twenty-nine commercial alpha, I’m nearby. Assign it to me.”
“Orange County copies, seventeen thirty-three. Alarm, Hampton Storage, monitoring company has tried to get in contact with the property owner. Internal motion sensor has not been triggered.”
“Ten ninety-seven.” I stopped talking after giving dispatch the code that told them I was on scene. I dismounted my bike and checked the doors to the main building, which were all locked. I pulled a card out of my pocket and stuck it through the mail slot, proof that I was here and checked. The sign said that they closed at six PM, and since it was ten of six, my guess was that someone cut out early today. 
With nothing of note happening out front, I got back on my bike and slowly drove around toward the back. The alarm was still blaring as I rounded the corner to find the back gates wide open and two men on Harleys parked in front of a closed unit.
Even from forty yards away, I could tell that the men were wearing cuts and not just any cuts, they were members of the Heretics. Orlando had several biker gangs, many being one percenters. Most of them lived by the rule: leave us the fuck alone and we will leave you the fuck alone. But not the Heretics. Nope, they were the bullies. The I-want-to-start-a-fight-just-because-I-can type. The type of gang that will kick someone’s ass because they thought it made them look big. When they were done, their victims were seldom left breathing.
So, I stayed where I was and called into dispatch. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, ten fifty-six, Hamptons Storage on Waterbridge, signal forty-four, expedite, multiple subjects, known signal zero.” That sounded good, I needed backup because they were people who were known to be armed and dangerous. 
Retreating wasn’t an option, I was a deputy, this was my job, and the last thing I wanted was to turn my back on known killers.
At that moment, I wished for a car full of snotty teenagers over these guys, I could handle them. I said a prayer for backup to be nearby and that they would hurry, and I had just finished it about the same time the subjects turned in my direction. I could feel their eyes boring into me. Chills went down my spine, and I flipped my snap on my holster to give my fingers something to do, my heart thumping as the two riders rode over to me.
They were night and day, the one on the left looked like Hollywood’s version of scary biker dude. His cut read Sergeant at Arms, Bladder. 
Bladder
What kind of name was Bladder? He was of medium build, had a beard that could double as a rat’s nest, chains that hung from his pockets to his belt loops, and his face was . . . well . . . all I could do was hear Ham’s voice from The Sandlot. “You know, if my dog were as ugly as you, I'd shave his butt and tell him to walk backwards.”
The other guy also had a beard, but his was what they called a groomed beard—like he actually gave a damn if crumbs fell onto his face. He probably weighed two hundred pounds, and his cut read Candy. I would never understand where bikers get their names. He was on his bike, so I had to take that into account, but I would put him at least six feet.
As I continued my mental catalog, I took in his dirty-blond hair, his muscular arms. I studied the shaped of his face, sloping nose, hooded eyes, and then froze when I locked on to hazel eyes. Eyes that I still saw in my dreams. My eyes darted to his upper lip, and I caught myself before I could lean forward, not to touch him but to get a closer look at the scar there, it wasn’t as pronounced as the one Liam had when we were kids, but that was normal, scars faded over time, right?
It was as if I was eight years old again and he had been reading me Harry Potter. He’d taken me to the park and we both picked sticks to make into wands. When we got back to his house, he’d grabbed a pocketknife and had attempted to carve my name into my “wand.” When he tried to smooth the edges, he pulled back on the blade and lost control and cut his lip. He ended up getting stitches. 
It wasn’t long after that when he left during the night without saying goodbye, but I knew this was him.
“Liam?” I asked.






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Author Bio


Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James who won’t stop calling her or asking her out. 

And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50 something mom with grown kids, she's been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and now get her kicks riding a Harley.

As far as her body, she can thank, Ben & Jerry’s for that as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.

Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly silly men).


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Release Blitz for Alma Underwood Is Not A Kleptomaniac by Lacey Dailey.




Title: Alma Underwood Is Not A Kleptomaniac
Author: Lacey Dailey
Genre: Young Adult Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Alma Underwood is NOT a kleptomaniac.
But she does take things that don’t belong to her.

The best part about working as a maid in her parent’s motel is pocketing all the random objects people leave behind. From old ticket stubs to the glue that comes with a toupee, Alma has discovered it all and stored it in a tub beneath her bed.

Her greatest treasure isn’t what she found in room six at Great Lakes Motel, but it’s who she discovered in an old, abandoned train car behind her house.

His name is Rumor, and he certainly won’t fit under her bed.

After a quick scan of Rumor’s surroundings, it becomes crystal clear that he’s not just hanging out in the train car for a place to escape. He’s living in it.

With determination heavy inside her, she does the only thing that makes sense to her...
She brings him home.

Turns out, he’s looking for a treasure of his own, and who better to help him find it than her?







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Author Bio


The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book. She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning. When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can find her in the dance studio empowering young dancers and giving out tons of stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza. 

When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather. 


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