Cover Reveal: The Negotiator by Avery Flynn

We wish to offer our thanks to Tasty Book Tours for allowing us to share with you the cover for Avery Flynn’s The Negotiator today. To see all the blogs involved in the reveal, please click on the banner above. =^.^=

Title: The Negotiator

Author: Avery Flynn

Publisher: Entangled Select

Release Date: April 24, 2017

Wanted: Personal Buffer

Often snarly, workaholic executive seeks “buffer” from annoying outside distractions AKA people. Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.

Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…

This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday? 

Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met this match…

About the Author:

When Avery Flynn isn’t writing about alpha heroes and the women who tame them, she is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and has a slight shoe addiction. Find out more about Avery on her website, follow her on Twitter, like her on her Facebook page or friend her on her Facebook profile. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the Internet, she’ll be your best friend for life. Contact her at avery@averyflynn.com. She’d love to hear from you.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Release Day Blitz: Origin by Ana Jolene

We’d like to extend our thanks to Tasty Book Tours for letting us host Ana Jolene on the site today in celebration of the release of her newest novel, murr! To see all of the blogs involved in this event, please click on the banner above. =^.^=

~*~

Publisher: Self-published

Date Released: March 14, 2017

Series: Glory MC #2

One drunken kiss ignites an inferno of burning desire. Sworn enemies, Lucky Winters and Seven Douglass struggle to forget the kiss that shouldn’t have happened. Then Lucky’s past comes back to bite him and he suddenly disappears for months, leaving Seven wondering where they both stand.

When Lucky returns, he is a changed man and his prolonged absence means he must once again prove himself to the club he’s sworn his life to. Except Lucky can’t seem to shake off the recent events as much as he wants to.

Seven is no stranger to this feeling. Her own mysterious past threatens to disrupt her future and when neither of them are able to stop the ghosts of their pasts from resurfacing, the only person they can turn to is each other. Suddenly, hatred morphs into love. And where there is fire and ice, there’s bound to be some steam . . .

Excerpt:

It must’ve been the shots earlier, but a strange sense came over me. My mouth turned dry. My hands became balmy and my head suddenly wasn’t working right, because any other time, I wouldn’t have ever thought about this.
In this state, with her disheveled hair, her imperfect lips, and her skin flushed with heat, Seven looked sexy. Desirable. Lovable, even. And for the first time ever in my life, I wasn’t sure what to do next.
As if of its own volition, my hand drifted to her thigh, to the exact same place where the dickhead’s hands had been. For some reason, I wanted to erase every trace of his hands on her, replacing it with mine.
I glanced up to gauge Seven’s reaction. Any look of disgust that crossed her face would have me pulling back immediately. But instead, I encountered the opposite. Seven stared back at me as if entranced, her lips parted as she panted shallowly.
I waited for it. For her to say something like, “I’ll give you ’til the count of ten to take your dirty hands off my thigh before I scream.” Or something equally worse. But Seven sat there waiting, anticipation burning in her cerulean eyes. She didn’t actually want me to kiss her, did she?
I winced at the rush of blood that pounded in my temples like a dark beat. Suddenly, I wanted to. In the back of my mind, wicked thoughts swirled as I recalled the image of her wrapping those red lips around that shot glass earlier. It made the red-blooded male in me wonder what other things she could do with that mouth.
For the third time that night, I had to forcefully stop my mind from fantasizing about a certain blonde bombshell.
Yup. There was no doubt about it now. I was drunker than I had let on. I shouldn’t have ever given her a ride home. But it wasn’t the worry of crashing on the side of the road that terrified me. It was this unfamiliar feeling of wanting what you knew you shouldn’t that scared me now.
Yet all that seemed to be forgotten as this indiscernible draw pulled me closer to her. My hand on her thigh grew courageous, exploring more skin. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, as if she wanted to get lost in this confusing emotion circulating between us as much as I did.
All this time, Seven remained wordless. It wasn’t in her to ask, I realized later. Seven had too much pride for that. But her eyes, the wide oceanic blue, told me all I needed to know.
I was looking into the eyes of a woman who wanted to be kissed.
And fuck me, I wanted to kiss her, too.
I leaned in, running my hand through her already finger-tossed hair. My hand caught in something. Gently, I tugged it free, only realizing later what it was. A hairpin with a golden wing attached to it.
I palmed it and slid it into my back pocket for now, not wanting anything to break this hypnotic moment. My hand immediately returned to her face, running over her cheek, registering the smoothness. All this time, I thought her to be prickly due to her personality. But her skin was baby soft. So different than I made her out to be.
I drew my hand towards the back of her head as the need to kiss her turned ravenous. I should’ve pulled back. Should’ve stopped this madness before it was too late, but fuck it all, her lips could tempt a saint.
The first pass of my lips over hers was electric. As she groaned, I deepened the kiss, luxuriating in her response. I didn’t know what was better —the way she curled her fingers into the back of my neck or how her tongue darted out to lick at the seam of my mouth. How had I never known this fire, this burning desire before?
Seven’s mouth was an aphrodisiac, a forbidden fruit that now that I had a taste of, I wanted more. Women threw themselves at me all the time. But none were as sweet as Seven.
My hands grew rougher as I tugged on her hair, tipping her head back so that I could run my mouth down her throat. I was surprised when she arched her back, further offering her body to me.
Like the greedy bastard I was, I took in my fill. Not just with my eyes, but with my hands too, reaching out to graze over her breasts and thighs. Her skirt slid up higher, bunching at her waist. Within the shaft of moonlight peering into the car, I could see the white scrap of fabric shielding her from my view. Oh my God—
Thought barely registered before Seven pushed me away. “Wait!”
What the hell? I backed off immediately, the bubble of passion popping like a balloon. It was akin to being yanked out of a dream. My mind felt muddled and disoriented like I had an out of body experience and was just coming back into myself.
“Shit.” In a flood, rational thought returned to me. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She was drunk and I had taken advantage of her. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as if I could remove every trace of what had just happened. But holy hell, I was harder than a rock!
Seven’s eyes had changed. They were no longer hazy. Gone was the willing, plaint woman of just moments ago; I was with the other Seven again. The one who despised me.
Had it really been different between us for a while there? One minute she was hot as fire in my hands and then, a second later, she was frigid again.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“Right.” I had no idea what the fuck had come over me, but this was crazy.
“You and I,” she said, indicating us with her hand. “We’re fire and ice. We don’t go well together.”
I swiped a hand over my hair, feeling more than just my dick deflating. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Her eyes turned sharp with my bitter tone. “I didn’t want to do something we’d both regret. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Yeah, I got it, sweetheart. You realized who you were tangling tongues with and it turned you off.”
“Lucky, I didn’t mean that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Shrugging, I returned to my full height. Shoving my hands into my front pockets, I stepped back, giving her space to get out of her car. “Go inside,” I said quietly. “Get some sleep.”
“Lucky,” she whispered.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
When Seven finally realized I wouldn’t say more on the topic, she huffed her frustration and slipped out of the car, adjusting her skirt from where my hand had pushed it up high on her hips. It only reminded me of the feeling of her soft skin beneath my palms. I clamped my mouth down tight as she walked past me.
“I’ll see you around then.”
“Yeah,” I replied dumbly as I walked towards the debris-laden road. “I’ll see you around.”
When I heard her go in and put the locks in place, I allowed myself to think about what I let happened.
So much for resistance. I had told myself that I wasn’t like the other fools. But not only had I fallen prey to the siren’s call that beckoned me, I’d fallen way further into the icy depths of hell. Never again, Dylan, I promised myself.
I’d been through hell once already and the whiskey there was shit. I wasn’t willing to go back a second time.
Not for any girl.

About the Author:

Ana Jolene is the author of the Glory MC series and the Contemporary Romance series, Moonrise Beach.

Growing up as a rebellious kid didn’t allow for much reading time. It wasn’t until she was in university that she found her passion for books and has since then devoured every book placed before her. Ana holds a B.A. in Psychology and has worked in both IT and Administration. But she’s had the most fun in the bookish world, working as a reviewer, columnist and assistant to multiple sites and authors.

Ana currently lives in Toronto with her family and an extremely lazy Shih Tzu whom she adores. To learn more about Ana and her books, subscribe to the newsletter to be notified of the hottest new releases and giveaways!

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

***Giveaway***

If you could like to enter the giveaway for your chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card, please click on the Rafflecopter link below:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/521ac4c81252

America’s Next Reality Star by Laura Heffernan – Excerpt & Promotional Post

In AMERICA’S NEXT REALITY STAR, Jen is cast on a reality show after she loses her job, her boyfriend, and her home. She hopes to win the cash prize but finds she also wants to win the heart of fellow contestant Justin. Fans of Sophie Kinsella’s Confessions of a Shopaholic won’t want to miss this charming, witty read published by Kensington’s Lyrical Shine.

~*~

Publisher: Lyrical Shine – Kensington

Release Date: March 7, 2017

Series: Reality Star #1

SEEKING THE SMART ONE

Twenty-four-year-old Jen Reid had her life in good shape: an okay job, a tiny-cute Seattle apartment, and a great boyfriend almost ready to get serious. In a flash it all came apart. Single, unemployed, and holding an eviction notice, who has time to remember trying out for a reality show? Then the call comes, and Jen sees her chance to start over—by spending her summer on national TV.

Luckily The Fishbowl is all about puzzles and games, the kind of thing Jen would love even if she wasn’t desperate. The cast checks all the boxes: cheerful, quirky Birdie speaks in hashtags; vicious Ariana knows just how to pout for the cameras; and corn-fed “J-dawg” plays the cartoon villain of the house. Then there’s Justin, the green-eyed law student who always seems a breath away from kissing her. Is their attraction real, or a trick to get him closer to the $250,000 grand prize? Romance or showmance, suddenly Jen has a lot more to lose than a summer . . .

Excerpt:

He touched my chin with two fingers, bringing my gaze up to meet his. Damn those green eyes. I searched them for answers, wishing I knew whether he was putting on an act for the audience. Even with the lights off, the cameras stationed in the yard would capture us. The producers filmed everything, day and night. Everyone in America would know if we kissed. For a moment, I struggled to remember why that was bad.
“I guess it’s not your fault, since I got the question right,” I said begrudgingly, shifting slightly backward.
“If that is the best I can get, I’ll take it. But I’m going to work on complete forgiveness. I’ll pay you double interest on our bet—six cents.”
“Well, then,” I laughed. “Maybe I’ll have to reconsider once I get my money. I’d hate to have to send Birdie to break your kneecaps.”
The image of five-foot-tall Birdie coming after Justin with a baseball bat cracked him up. I laughed, too, crossing my legs and settling more comfortably in the lounger. My knee practically touched Justin’s leg. He didn’t move.
We sat quietly for a few minutes. I wondered if he heard my heart pounding. Even not wanting to get caught kissing on national television with a near-stranger, I found something about Justin irresistible. Possibly his smile. Or his dimples. His brains. The ease of talking to him. His personality. The fact that he was practically perfect for me in every way.
That line of thinking wasn’t helping. I needed to change the subject before I started calling him Mary Poppins.
“It’s a beautiful night.” I gestured at the sky.
“Yes, it is,” Justin said, his eyes never leaving my face. Did he lean forward slightly? Only inches separated our lips.
The warmth definitely wasn’t the beer. I licked my lips nervously and leaned in, closing the gap. If he moved the tiniest bit…
“So—”

Copyright © 2017 by Laura Heffernan

About the Author:

Laura Heffernan is living proof that watching too much TV can pay off. When not watching total strangers participate in arranged marriages, drag racing queens, or cooking competitions, Laura enjoys travel, baking, board games, helping with writing contests, and seeking new experiences. She lives in the Northeast with her amazing husband and two furry little beasts.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon

***Giveaway***

Laura is offering one (1) lucky winner a $25 Amazon Gift Card! To enter, simply click on the Rafflecopter link below:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29334/

Thunder Wolf by Heather Long – Excerpt & Promotional Post

Most Lone Wolves have a story.

Publisher: Self-Published

Date Released: March 7, 2017

Series: Wolves of Willow Bend #11

Most Lone Wolves have a story–a pack they left behind, a love they lost, or worse, one they buried. Some leave their packs to roam because they crave freedom, and independence. Some leave because in their hearts, they can’t bear to stay. Some leave because they see no way to go back…

Enforcer John Nelson has pulled double duty for months, keeping an eye on the Lone Wolves who are his charges as well as those that once answered to Margo Montgomery. More of a loner than most, he doesn’t mind going months at a time without seeing another Enforcer as was his typical pattern or at least it was until the formation of the Three Rivers pack disrupted lives everywhere. Now he must divide his time between watching the upstarts and checking on his charges while working with the other Enforcers to anticipate the next move by the Russian Volchitsa. No Enforcer expected to find themselves among the hunted, but when they target the one wolf he can tolerate, John defies orders to go after her.

Hadley Sexton is a bit of a wild card even for an Enforcer, and she loves being unpredictable. More of a mother hen than she likes to admit, she keeps an eye on her Lone Wolves, and treats them more like family than charges…but when three Enforcers are brutally murdered over the course of three weeks, Hadley discovers someone has been shadowing her trail and they aren’t alone. It is a dangerous game with a brutal enemy, one willing to kill the wolves she’s sworn to protect to draw her out.

For Hadley, John will break every rule, but will he be in time?

Excerpt:

First things first, he was going to go very long hot shower to scrub his brain and body free of the lingering hunger he experienced where Hadley was concerned.
Twenty minutes later, with a towel wrapped around his hips, he walked back into his bedroom to find Hadley perched on the foot of his bed with a cup of coffee in hand. She looked deliciously sleep rumpled, right down to the creases in her cheek and the wild disarray of her curls.
He wasn’t sure if it was her or the scent of coffee, which struck him in the solar plexus.
“Coffee.” The syllables came out like a pair of grunts. She pointed toward the dresser and he followed with his gaze to where she indicated. A large mug of coffee awaited him, cream no sugar.
“Thank you.” He claimed the cup and took a long drink. The scalding heat combined with the rich flavor of the Arabica beans and the hint of sweetness in the cream went a long way toward soothing his unsettled beast.
“Yep.” Only the hardness of the word made it discernible in her mumble. The beast might be sitting upright and drinking coffee, but he knew better than to engage. John gathered his clothing in one hand before grabbing the mug with the other, then walked toward the bathroom.
It wasn’t until he stepped inside that he realized he’d gone to change out of sight of the wolf he cared about so much. Embarrassment flooded him. Chagrined, he glanced toward where she sat, but she didn’t so much as glance up from staring into her coffee mug.
Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed. Nudity among wolves couldn’t be an issue. They shed their skin for fur and fur for skin—they were always naked. Being a prude or worrying about body issues wouldn’t let them last long. Hell, he’d seen Hadley nude plenty of times, as she had him. While he treasured those memories of her beauty, he refused to ogle her.
Why was it a big deal today?
Uncertain of whether to be annoyed or worried, John stripped off the towel and ran it over his body quickly to dry off any remaining moisture. Afterward, he dragged on a pair of briefs, followed by jeans then a loose T-shirt. He skipped shoes, as he didn’t expect them to go out anywhere and he preferred the maneuverability bare feet provided.
Sipping his coffee, he returned to the bedroom and Hadley. She hadn’t moved from her previous position, and continued to cradle her coffee mug.
“You want a second cup?”
She grunted.
She never was very good before she had at least one full cup of coffee in the morning.
“Come on down when you’re ready. I’m going to start breakfast.”
He made it all the way down the stairs and halfway to the kitchen when he realized breakfast wasn’t what he’d been seeking when he left the room. He’d been running away.

About the Author:

National bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon

***Giveaway***

If you would like to enter for your chance to win a Thunder Wolf throw blanket and signed print copy of Rogue Wolf (US Only), or 1 of 10 print copies of of Rogue Wolf (US Only), please click on the Rafflecopter link below:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29340

Cover Reveal: The Girl Who Could See by Kara Swanson

We’re excited to be sharing with you the cover for Kara Swanson’s new novel courtesy of Rock Star Book Tours. =^.^=

Title: The Girl Who Could See

Author: Kara Swanson

Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Release Date: June 1, 2017

All her life Fern has been told she is blind to reality—but what if she is the only one who can truly see?

Fern Johnson is crazy. At least, that’s what the doctors have claimed since her childhood. Now nineteen, and one step away from a psych ward, Fern struggles to survive in bustling Los Angeles. Desperate to appear “normal,” she represses the young man flickering at the edge of her awareness—a blond warrior only she can see.

Tristan was Fern’s childhood imaginary hero, saving her from monsters under her bed and outside her walls. As she grew up and his secret world continued to bleed into hers, however, it only caused catastrophe. But, when the city is rocked by the unexplainable, Fern is forced to consider the possibility that this young man isn’t a hallucination after all—and that the creature who decimated his world may be coming for hers.

***Pre-Order Today***

Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE
Present Time

On television, they never tell you how cold it is.
They might show you the dimly lit room or the hard, uninviting chairs—stark reminders that you have no power here. They may depict the lonesome table separating you from the elderly agent with the stone-grey eyes. But those cop shows never depict what a chilly affair an FBI interrogation truly is. If their aim is to make this process as intimidating as possible—it’s working.
I wrap my hands around bare shoulders, fingertips far colder than the skin exposed by my red tank top. Brilliant move, Fern. Wear a scarf, but forget your jacket. Stifling a shudder, I try to meet the sharp gaze of Agent Barstow standing rigidly across from me.
“I don’t know where you’re from, miss Johnson—but in LA, state-of-the-art buildings don’t just crumble.” His voice is gravelly, matching the jagged lines of his dark skin and weathered face. “Federal buildings, no less. There one minute and the next…destroyed.”
His tone chills me even more, and I tug nervously on my scarf. His arms slowly unwind from his chest as he takes a deliberate two steps toward me. “We’ve had everyone on the disaster—CIA, local police, firemen…heck, we even called NASA. No one can find a plausible reason why a skyscraper, in excellent repair, would collapse like that. No one, that is, except you.”
I fight the urge to bolt for the door as he leans down, palms flat on the table, so close I can make out the creases on his dark suit. “You warned us of an attack in that area two weeks ago. How did you know?”
I suck in a deep breath as his voice lowers, dark fists tightening on the edge of the table. “Are you involved with a terrorist organization?”
I almost laugh at his words, at how they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’m here to save LA, not destroy it. To save everyone. And I don’t have much time—none of us do. If I can’t gain this man’s trust, a shattered building is nothing compared to what will come next.
“No, sir.” I shove my shaking hands beneath my legs as I glimpse a pair of lucid blue eyes over the agent’s shoulder. They shouldn’t be there—and I know not to stare. But those eyes that only I can see are the reason I warned the FBI in the first place. Their owner the reason I’m even sitting in this room.
Licking my lips, I keep my attention on Barstow. I’ve wanted this for years. Someone to listen. Really listen. And it’s the FBI, no less. Be careful here.
When I open my mouth, the words are calm and steady. I hope they’re convincing—they have to be convincing. “I knew about the incident, Agent Barstow, because my friend warned me.” Throat suddenly dry, I look away. “My imaginary friend.”

About the Author:

As the daughter of missionaries, KARA SWANSON spent sixteen years of her young life in the jungles of Papua New Guinea. Able to relate with characters dropped suddenly into a unique new world, she quickly fell in love with the speculative genre and was soon penning stories herself.

At seventeen, she independently published a fantasy novel, Pearl of Merlydia. She has since published many articles, including one in the Encounter magazine. Kara received the Mount Hermon Most Promising Teen Writer Award in 2015. You can find her on Facebook as Kara Swanson, Author, or attempting to be artistic over on Instagram (@karaswanson_author). When she’s not creating new stories and placing characters in peril, she’s probably binge-watching Marvel movies, playing with her huskies, reading till two in the morning or experimenting with a dairy-free mocha Frappuccino (skills, I’m telling you).

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

***Giveaway***

If you would like to enter for your chance to win a $5 Amazon Gift Card (US Only) or an Advanced eBook Copy of THE GIRL WHO COULD SEE (International), please click on the Rafflecopter link below:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e2389ba2553