Tag Archives: Contemporary Romance

Sale Blitz for Forgotten Promises by Jessica Lemmon

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FP_coverForgotten Promises
by Jessica Lemmon
Released January 19th, 2016
Loveswept

About Forgotten Promises

In an edgy, seductive novel hailed by Rachel Van Dyken as “unique and gripping,” Jessica Lemmon introduces the ultimate bad boy . . . and a love that crosses all boundaries.

Morgan Young had a perfect upbringing, and now she’s got a perfect boyfriend and a perfect future—until her twenty-first birthday changes everything. First Morgan finds out, in the most painful way possible, that her relationship is a sham. But that’s nothing compared to the nightmare about to unfold.

It’s too late for Tucker Noscalo. A brutal childhood left him with a bad reputation and a criminal record. Fresh out of jail, Tucker has a score to settle with Baybrook’s crooked chief of police—his own father. Nobody will believe Tucker’s explosive accusations without proof and a good lawyer, neither of which he has on his side. Until he sees someone he used to know, someone who just so happens to be the daughter of the best lawyer in the county.

He needs Morgan to convince her father of the ugly truth. But first he has to convince her, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get her to listen. Confronted by the story of Tucker’s dark past, Morgan feels utterly compelled to help him. And as their connection grows into a fierce bond fueled by raw passion, Morgan finds herself falling for the wrong guy—but never has the promise of love felt so right.

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Excerpt

Tucker

Things aren’t exactly going my way. My breath burns heavy and hot in my lungs as I run. And run and run and run.

Not that I should have expected them to go smoothly. After years spent under my father’s command or seeking freedom from it, it’s eerily unsurprising to find I’ve landed myself in this much trouble just one day after getting released from prison.

Yeah. I said prison.

But I didn’t belong there.

I don’t intend on going back.

Working out in the yard at Baybrook Penitentiary, jogging the perimeter every chance I got, has paid off. Blood is drying on my shirt, the sting of broken flesh on my knuckles a physical reminder of what I am capable of. I dig deep and find the strength to run faster.

Now to find a car. I had a friend when I was on the outside. He owed me a favor. I cut across a yard and skirt a big wooden playground set with brightly colored plastic tubes and slides, wondering what it might have been like to grow up in a house like this. I wonder if the kids were protected. Safe. Loved.

But I don’t have time to do a postmortem on my childhood. Praying no one is looking out of a window, I leap a fence to an attached apartment complex and land on my feet on a crumbling pile of asphalt. The weeds are overgrown, the trees scraggly. There is junk in the yard and garbage in the lot proving that the people who live here don’t give a shit about appearances.

Or much of anything.

People like us have our reasons for feeling that way.

If Lady Luck is any friend at all, she’ll shine on me, and Mark’s Dodge Charger will be parked in exactly the same spot as when he and I used to break laws together. Minor laws. We didn’t kill anybody or anything.

I slink past a few other cars parked under a dilapidated awning, and spot Mark’s Dodge, Chelsea (named for an ex-girlfriend), parked outside of his garage. Similar to the real Chelsea, the car is dull and kind of dirty. But for my needs, the car may as well have a light from heaven shining upon her. This is a blessing when I need one most.

I calm my walk as I approach his driveway, edging along grass that needs mowed and taking a peek through a pair of partially open shabby curtains. My former good buddy is sprawled on his couch snoring, mouth wide open. I wonder if he was able to keep his job at the gravel pit, or if he was fired for one of many reasons he’d been fired from everywhere else. I smile as I remember the fun we had together. Feels like about a hundred years ago, even though it’s been more like two. “Fun” had been a rare commodity in my world back then, and right about now it is extinct.

I consider knocking on his door, asking if I can borrow Chelsea, but I don’t consider for long. The debate lasts exactly two seconds before I turn away from Mark’s window and walk to the car I’m about to appropriate for myself. She’s unlocked so I slide onto the seat and palm the steering wheel, ignoring the sting on my knuckles as I grip the wheel. I haven’t driven a car in a while—not since I stole my father’s Explorer one fated night, and being in the driver’s seat sends a rush of intoxicating freedom surging through my veins.

Freedom I can’t allow to be taken from me. Not again. Not ever.

I am prepared to hot-wire her, a handy trick, but then check the glove compartment—the stupidest place to keep a set of keys second only to the visor.

There, beneath the expired registration is a key taped to the vinyl cover of the owner’s manual.

Jackpot.

Before my luck runs out—given the way every other damn thing has worked out tonight, it very well might—I jam the key in the ignition and turn over her blubbering engine. Loud. Way too fucking loud.

As I back out of the driveway, Mark’s door swings open. He lumbers out, wearing boxers and nothing else, rubbing his eyes, his hair and beard scraggly. I stomp on the brakes and shift in to drive. Mark’s stark confusion fades and he smiles.

It’s as good as getting his permission. I jerk my chin in a silent good-bye and gun the engine. The fuel gauge reads three-quarters full, plenty of gas to get me to the shittiest convenience store I can find. I need supplies for where I’m going and if the place is shady enough, the clerk won’t bat an eyelash at my T-shirt covered in blood. One hand gripping the wheel, I keep my eyes on the road while searching the front and back for something to change into. Surely Mark has left a shirt or— My fingers curl around something cool and slick in the back seat and I pull it into my lap. The dark leather smells like pot, and has seen better days—like the nineties—but the jacket will have to do. At least it’ll cover my shirt.

My bleeding knuckles, however . . . I shake my hand out as I pass a Waffle House, several semis parked in the lot, the inside well lit—a little too well lit. Stopping even briefly to wash my hands is tempting, but risky. I settle for the napkins I spotted in the glove compartment when I was digging for the keys.

Alternating hands on the steering wheel, I wipe as gently as possible, grateful that most of the blood isn’t mine and consider I’m luckier than I gave myself credit for a moment ago. My father was always a fighter. I’ve seen him take down a man twice my size—one who was out-of-his-mind high. I shouldn’t have been a challenge for him tonight, but I had the element of surprise.

What I didn’t have was the proof I went to my childhood home to reclaim. The videotape that would exchange mine and my father’s places in the eyes of the law and anyone with a functioning conscious. The plan was to send him to prison, not send myself back. It was time. Jeremy is gone. Mom is safely out of the country.

But now . . . now I don’t know what the hell to do. Without proof of what he’s done, it’s my word against my father’s, and there’s no doubt who the masses will believe.

I have no idea how I’m going to get that tape. It isn’t as if I can go back and ring the doorbell. It’s not like I can go to the police and plead my side of the story.

There isn’t much sympathy for the ex-con who beats the police chief unconscious. Especially when the police chief is his father.

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About Jessica Lemmonunnamed

A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.

Connect with Jessica: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Instagram

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Release Blast & Giveaway for Forever with You by Heatherly Bell

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ForeverWithYou_CoverForever with You
Starlight Hill #6
by Heatherly Bell
Releasing April 26, 2016
Tydandon Publishing and Heatherly Bell Books

About Forever with You

She forgot something on the way to the courthouse …

Sophia Abella has a good life, even if she is a little stuck. Not quite single, not quite married, she keeps men at a safe distance. But when her ex-Marine husband returns to town and takes the job of chief of police, it might finally be time to get that paper work done once and for all. After all, most of her family already thinks she’s divorced.

They’re not actually, in the fullest sense of the word … divorced.

Years ago, Riley Jacobs chose the Marine Corp over his wife and has regretted his decision every day since. But once a Marine always a Marine, and he’ll use every tactical advantage he has to get Sophia to realize that she’s the only one for him.

Love and marriage … take two

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He didn’t answer but only studied her. “Eat.”

She took a bite somewhat automatically and felt immediately annoyed with herself for listening to him. “You’re bad for me.”

What she didn’t say, because she didn’t even want to voice it, was that he’d somehow become nothing but a constant reminder of loss. Pain. Of a fear so overwhelming and raw it threatened to take over everything in its path.

“I’m not. I’m what the doctor ordered.”

“You’re like eating Chunky Monkey every night instead of once a week. Not a good idea.”

He moved closer, so that his shoulder was touching hers. “So what do you want? Vanilla?”

“Not vanilla.” She took another sip, moved her legs and Hershee jumped off her lap, disgusted with Sophia for not sitting still enough for Her Highness. “Maybe Neopolitan. It’s good enough but not so much that I want it every day of the week.”

Riley stood up, took Sophia’s bowl and set it on the coffee table. He pulled her up off the couch, his hands on her elbows. The blanket fell to the ground at her feet. “Admit it. You’d like to have Chunky Monkey every day of the week. And sometimes you catch yourself thinking about it in the middle of the day. Wondering how you could get away with it.”

“Maybe.”

She’d forgotten how perfect it felt to be this close to him, their breathing comingled. Without a doubt, she’d once known he would have breathed for her if he could. He would have done anything for her.

“You want Chunky Monkey. Admit it.” He pulled her closer, until she could feel every hard ridge of his body and then closer still.

“Wait. Are we still talking about ice cream?”

“No.” He kissed her. Not a tender kiss at all, but rough and claiming.

Her hands fisted his shirt, and then with both hands she untucked it at his waist, letting her palms glide up his hard chest, touching the soft short hairs between her fingers. How she’d missed this, missed him. No matter what, they’d always had this part right. Touching, feeling.

Riley squeezed her ass, his other hand sliding under her sweater to tug her bra cup aside. But then just as suddenly as he’d kissed her, he stopped.

“Stay with me.” She pulled on his arm, directing him toward the bedroom.

“Slow down, baby.”

“It’s this way to the bedroom.” Sophia tugged on his hand again, a little like trying to move a mountain. “Just like your floor plan but reversed.”

“Wait.” He bit his lower lip and didn’t move.

“I don’t want to wait. I’ve waited long enough.”

“You can wait a little bit longer, can’t you?” He grimaced.

“Why should I?”

He chuckled and framed her face with both hands. “Because I need you to be sure.”

“Oh, that. I’m sure, Riley. I want this. I want you.”

“No,” he said and his hands dropped down. “I want you to be sure about us.”

“Us?”

“You and me. Us. Forever. Can you tell me you’re sure about that?” He studied her.

“Listen, you and I …”

“Yeah.” He moved away from her, picking his jacket up on the way to the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“But—” Was he seriously leaving her? Now? After all that talk about Chunky Monkey? Bastard!

“Eat your soup,” he called out and shut her front door.

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About Heatherly Bell

When early onset stage fright dashed dreams of Rock and Roll Hall of Fame status, Heatherly tackled her first book in 2010, and now the people and voices that occupy her head refuse to leave. She no longer sings unless you count randomly bursting into song to annoy her children (and the dogs).

If she were not an author, Heatherly maintains she would be a detective and a criminal’s worst nightmare. She watches Dateline every Friday night and takes notes.

She lives in northern California with her family, including two beagles, one who can say ‘hello’ and the other who can feel a pea through several pillows.

Connect with Heatherly: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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$50.00 Amazon eGift Card
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Sale Blitz for Blurred Lines by Lauren Layne

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Blurred Lines_Cover 2Blurred Lines
by Lauren Layne
Released August 25, 2015
Loveswept

About Blurred Lines

In a novel that’s perfect for fans of Abbi Glines and Jessica Sorensen, USA Today bestselling author Lauren Layne delivers a sexy take on the timeless question: Can a guy and a girl really be “just friends”?

When Parker Blanton meets Ben Olsen during her freshman year of college, the connection is immediate—and platonic. Six years later, they’re still best friends, sharing an apartment in Portland’s trendy Northwest District as they happily settle into adult life. But when Parker’s boyfriend dumps her out of the blue, she starts to wonder about Ben’s no-strings-attached approach to dating. The trouble is, even with Ben as her wingman, Parker can’t seem to get the hang of casual sex—until she tries it with him.

The arrangement works perfectly . . . at first. The sex is mind-blowing, and their friendship remains as solid as ever, without any of the usual messy romantic entanglements. But when Parker’s ex decides he wants her back, Ben is shocked by a fierce stab of possessiveness. And when Ben starts seeing a girl from work, Parker finds herself plagued by unfamiliar jealousy. With their friendship on the rocks for the first time, Parker and Ben face an alarming truth: Maybe they can’t go back. And maybe, deep down, they never want to.

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I scoop up the last bite of cereal from my bowl as I stand. “We should probably get going,” I say, still chewing. “IKEA gets crazy on Saturdays, and I don’t want to risk them being out of stock on the extra-large shelves.”

“You have that many dolls?” Liz asks, looking torn between being creeped out and feeling completely sorry for me.

“Fifty-seven and counting,” I say, straight-faced. “And actually, Ben, if you’re going to be a while, I might just run upstairs and brush their hair? I noticed last night Polly was starting to develop a tangle.”

Ben drains his coffee, pushes back from the counter, and shakes his head at me. “You poor, sick weirdo.”

Then he turns to Liz, putting his hands on her skinny waist and pulling her forward with an apologetic smile. “You mind if I take a raincheck on breakfast?”

I barely hide the snort. In Ben’s world, raincheck is a synonym for I’m going to intentionally lose your phone number.

In under a minute, Ben is nudging Liz out onto the front porch, and, impressively, she doesn’t even look pissed. I follow them out, just to be annoying, watching as he whispers something in her ear. Her eyes go wide and sympathetic and she gives me an It’s gonna be okay, little buddy smile. She heads toward the sidewalk with a wave.

“What did you just tell her?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee as we watch her leave.

“I told her you were an abandoned orphan and that the only thing your birth mother left you with was a doll named Polly. Hence the sad obsession.”

I shake my head. “You know I’m going to have to rewrite the house rules. And No dolls will so be going on there.”

Liz turns back and gives one last wave. Both Ben and I wave back, and I can’t help myself. “Enjoy your walk of shame!” I call after her, my voice sweet as sugar.

Liz’s head snaps back as though trying to determine if she heard me correctly, but Ben puts a hand over my face and shoves me back into the house before closing the front door.

He absently rubs a hand over his abs as he looks me up and down.

“You should change. You can’t wear your ratty booty shorts and that ugly T-shirt to IKEA.”

“First of all, you can absolutely wear your rattiest and ugliest T-shirts to IKEA. That’s pretty much the IKEA dress code. And second, we’re not going to IKEA. Really, are you getting so comfortable with your lies that they become fact in your mind?”

“We are going to IKEA,” he says, running both hands through his short brown hair before heading toward the stairs.

“For what?” I ask.

“I need a new dresser.”

“What’s wrong with your old dresser?”

“It broke.”

I wrinkle my nose. “How the hell do you break a dresser?”

He shoots me a look over his shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows.

It takes me only seconds before I put the pieces together. “Airhead?” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder at the departed female. “You banged her against the dresser?”

“Hey, she was unusually tall, which gave me the unusual opportunity and prime angle to—”

I slap my hands over my ears and start singing Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” my default protective gesture whenever Ben gets a little too colorful with descriptions of his sexual antics.

Another house rule: Parker absolutely does not want to know what happens in Ben’s bedroom.

“Hey, do you and Lance have plans today?” he asks.

“Maybe you should have asked that before you mandated an IKEA trip. But no, he’s got an all-day study group.”

Lance is getting his MBA from the University of Portland.

“Cool. Let’s grab lunch after.” He heads into his bedroom without looking at me.

Lunch, huh?

I narrow my eyes and sprint up the stairs after him, pushing open his door before he can shut it in my face.

Sure enough, his dresser is definitely leaning unhealthily to one side, and I count two, no make that three, condom wrappers.

He pulls a green polo from the tiny closet in the corner and looks around his messy floor until he finds his jeans.

I wait expectantly.

“What?” he asks.

“Lunch?” I lift my brows. And wait for the explanation.

Ben scratches idly at his slightly stubbled chin. Sharing a bathroom with the guy, I know he shaves every morning, but the stubble seems to be perpetual.

“Well, you know that girl I dated a couple weeks ago? Kim?” he asks. “She wanted me to go to her sister’s engagement brunch, and I told her I was busy all day. But she’s just crazy enough to stop by and see if I’m actually out of the house, so I thought we should be elsewhere. . . .”

I hold up a hand. “Fine. I’ll be your alibi. But I get to pick the restaurant, and you’re buying. Oh, and you have to put the toilet seat down every day for an entire week.”

He raises his hand as though wanting to say something in class. “I’d like to add a house rule: Parker isn’t allowed to tell Ben how to pee.”

“You don’t make the house rules. I do. And I didn’t tell you how to pee,” I say exasperatedly as he wrenches open a dresser drawer and pulls out a pair of boxers. “I’m trying to do your future wife a favor by teaching you how not to be a pig.”

He inches by me into the hallway. “Another house rule: Parker shalt not say profanities as future wife to a dedicated bachelor.”

“You’re not a dedicated bachelor. You’re just a typical horny twenty-four-year-old dude, and, again, you don’t make the house rules—hey!”

He shuts the door to our shared bathroom in my face, and too late I realize that I’d missed all the classic signs of a skilled Ben Olsen diversion. He’d just wanted to beat me into the bathroom.

“Don’t use all the hot water!” I shout, pounding my palm on the door.

The door opens just enough for me to see one blue eye blinking back at me. “Didn’t you say Polly had a tangle? You better go get on that.”

The door shuts again, and I pound a second time. “Remember, the green towel is mine. The white one is yours.”

I wait for confirmation, but there’s only silence.

“Ben, I know you can hear me! Don’t ‘accidentally’ use mine just because yours smells funny.”

More silence.

Damn it. He is so planning to use my towel.

So, yeah, my best friend is a guy. Doesn’t mean I have to like it all the time.

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About Lauren LayneLauren_Layne

Lauren Layne is the USA Today Bestselling author of more than a dozen contemporary romance novels.

Prior to becoming an author, Lauren worked in e-commerce and web-marketing. A year after moving from Seattle to NYC to pursue a writing career, she had a fabulous agent and multiple New York publishing deals.

Lauren currently lives in Manhattan with her husband and plus-sized Pomeranian. When not writing, you’ll likely find her running (rarely), reading (sometimes), or at happy hour (often).

Connect with Lauren: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram

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Book Blast & Giveaway for Mafia Secret by Angie Derek

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Mafia Secret_CoverMafia Secret
by Angie Derek
Re-Releasing on April 12, 2016
Thoroughweb Press

About Mafia Secret

Lessa Noelle grew up never knowing she was the illegitimate daughter of a mafia king pin. After his murder, she finds herself a surprise heiress immersed in the dangerous world of organized crime with only the guidance of Marco Santos, her father’s second in command, to help her.

An uneasy attraction blossoms between the two as Marco searches for her father’s killer. He tries to keep the realities of his life from touching her and an already dangerous situation turns volatile when a killer turns his attention to Lessa.

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Her mother should be working the swing shift at the hospital, so she auto-dialed her mom’s cell number. It rang twice.

“Hi honey,” Erin Noelle said.

“Hey Mom.” Lessa glanced away from Santos, who was now listening closely to her side of the conversation. “Are you busy?”

“I can talk for a moment. What’s up?”

The background noise of the hospital faded out as her mother probably ducked into a room to hear her better.

“I need to ask you something.” She struggled for courage to ask the question which could change everything.

“What now?” Erin laughed.

Lessa took a deep breath. “Who is Jiovanni Tazio, and why is he sending me a letter saying he’s my father?”

Erin made a startled sound and the line went quiet.

“Mom?” Dread filled her. Her mom was supposed to say she didn’t know who the heck Jiovanni Tazio was.

“How did you find out?” Erin demanded.

“It’s true?” The line went silent again. Lessa spun to focus on the photo from the long-ago trip to Disney. Of the three of them smiling—her mother, Lessa, and the man she’d thought was her father. Who maybe wasn’t.

“Of course it’s not true. Peter’s your father. You look just like him.”

But she didn’t. She closed her eyes. She and Peter had similar coloring. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin. But her features were like her mother’s.

“Just send the letter back to this man. He obviously got the wrong person.”

Her mom’s voice was too cool, and Lessa didn’t believe a word. “You mean hand it back to the courier?”

Erin gasped a second time. “Get away from him. Jiovanni’s men are dangerous.”

“Who says it’s a man? And who says it isn’t Jiovanni himself?” The depth of her mother’s lies started to work through her. She pressed her hand against her burning stomach.

“You have to get away from him right now.”

She shook her head even though her mother couldn’t see her. “You lied to me. All these years, and you pretended Peter was my father.”

“Sweetie, listen to me, they’re dangerous people. I had to lie to keep you safe. You need to stay as far away from Jiovanni as possible.”

She almost choked on her outrage. “That shouldn’t be a problem since, apparently, he’s dead.” And with him dead, she’d never have the chance to find out who her father really was.

“Jiovanni’s dead?”

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About Angie Derek

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Angie Derek writes paranormal and romantic suspense. She lives in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with her husband, two daughters, two horses, two cats, and a dog.

Connect with Angie: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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A $10.00 Amazon eGift Card
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Pre-Release Blast & Giveaway for Secret Baby Scandal by Joanne Rock

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SECRET BABY SCANDALSecret Baby Scandal
Bayou Billionaires #4
by Joanne Rock
Releasing May 1 (eBook) and May 10 (Paperback)
Harlequin Desire

About Secret Baby Scandal

His proposition: pretend they’re a couple to end a scandal. But she has secrets of her own…

Tatiana Doucet has dealt with sexy, arrogant athletes most of her life. But Jean-Pierre Reynaud is a whole different animal—in bed and on the field. Unbeknownst to him, their one amazing night produced a son. Now her family’s biggest football rival is back, offering a seductive wager she can’t refuse.

Jean-Pierre despises the media. When rumors fly, he knows a fake relationship is the perfect diversion for the tabloids—and Tatiana’s unbridled passion is the perfect diversion for Jean-Pierre. But when she drops a baby bombshell, the scandal will rock them both!

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Son?

Jean-Pierre had taken hits from the toughest, strongest, meanest players in the NFL. Afterward, as he lay in the grass with his ears ringing and his vision blurred, he would struggle to snap out of the slow-motion fog that felt kind of like being underwater.

That was exactly how he felt walking into Tatiana’s apartment, her words slowly permeating his consciousness along with the cry of an infant. Dazed, confused and trying to stand up straight despite the floor shifting under his feet, Jean-Pierre stood in her foyer and waited for her to return from wherever she’d disappeared.

“Mr. Reynaud?” An older woman in a simple gray dress stepped into the living area to his right. “Miss Doucet asked if you wouldn’t mind joining her in the family room. It’s just past the staircase on the left.” She pointed the way and then went about her business, picking up a few things in the living room.

A bright blue blanket. A baby bottle.

Seeing that bottle was like the second hit when you were already down.

At the same time, it was enough to make the mental fog evaporate and get his feet moving.

Fast.

He needed answers now. Hell, he needed answers months ago. Tatiana had done a whole lot more than throw his career into a tailspin tonight with her unguarded remark to a member of the press. She’d been hiding the biggest possible secret that was going to bind their lives together forever.

“Tatiana?” Her name was a sharp bark on his lips as he entered the spacious suite overlooking Central Park.

Framed playbills lined the walls along with photos of Tatiana and her family. Tatiana with her father at her graduation from Columbia. The Doucets outside of a downtown skyscraper with the brass name plaque of her prestigious law firm. Every picture was a reminder of the life he might have had with her if her family hadn’t turned her against him.

A blaze crackled in a fireplace on the far side of the living area. And beside it, in that warm glow of flickering light, he spotted her on the dark leather love seat, cradling a tiny bundle of blankets to her breast. Tatiana’s dark brown curls shielded her body as much as the blanket, the firelight making the skin of one shoulder glow where she’d unfastened her dress to feed the baby.

Her baby.

His…son.

Something shifted inside Jean-Pierre, his whole world tipping on its axis as everything changed irreversibly.

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About Joanne RockJoanne

Three-time RITA nominee Joanne Rock has never met a romance sub-genre she didn’t like. The author of over seventy novels enjoys writing contemporary romance and medieval historicals alike, recently exploring Young Adult romance under a pseudonym. An optimist by nature and perpetual seeker of silver linings, Joanne finds romance–in all its forms– fits her life outlook perfectly. When she’s not writing, Joanne enjoys travel, especially to see her favorite sports teams play with her former sports editor husband and three athletic-minded sons.

Connect with Joanne: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Giveaway

U.S. Giveaway for a Prize Pack Basket including print copies of DATE WITH A DIVA, THE RIGHT MOVES & MAKING A SPLASH by Joanne Rock, plus bracelet, lip balm, staniac lip stain and smashbox eye trio. Joanna is also hosting an International Giveaway for downloads of His Pregnant Princess Bride and His Secretary’s Surprise Fiance
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Release Blast & Giveaway for Off the Hook by Laura Drewry

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OFF THE HOOK_CoverOff the Hook
Fishing for Trouble #1
by Laura Drewry
Releasing April 12, 2016
Loveswept

About Off the Hook

Welcome to The Buoys, a West Coast haven where love comes in with the tide. Perfect for readers of Jill Shalvis and Susan Mallery, the Fishing for Trouble series features three unforgettable brothers—each of whom is a great catch.

Major league pitcher Liam O’Donnell knows his best days are probably behind him, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to retire and become a fishing guide. Still, after all the time he’s spent chasing his dreams, he owes it to his brothers to pull his weight around the lodge. The Buoys is their father’s legacy, and they can’t let some developer take it from them. The one snag Liam isn’t counting on is a blast from the past: his ex-wife.

The moment Kate Hadley steps out of the seaplane, she knows this assignment is going to be trickier than she thought. She has to persuade the owners to sell—and one of them is Liam O’Donnell. Ten years ago, she made the biggest mistake of her life when she married Liam during a fling in Vegas. Now he’s her only lifeline in the middle of nowhere. Kate’s trying to keep things cool, but Liam just reminds her of the scorching few nights they spent together—and tempts her to make new memories that are just as steamy as the old.

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Excerpt

They were almost to her cabin when she shocked the hell out of him by slipping her hand under his arm and nudging his shoulder with hers.

“You’re still a hotshot pitcher, you know. Don’t talk about that in the past tense.”

Liam blinked hard, then leaned in and pressed a slow kiss against her cheek. Half an inch, that’s how close he was to those soft, warm lips he remembered all too well, but no matter how much he ached to taste them again, he forced himself to pull back and smile down at her.

Besides his agent—who didn’t count, because Liam paid him to say it—Kate was the first and only one to even suggest he might have something left, and if she’d said it any other time or any other way, he might not have believed she was sincere.

But looking at her now, with her foot up on the porch, ready to go inside, there wasn’t the slightest trace of doubt in her eyes, just those damn bits of amber flickering like little beacons.

“I, uh . . .” Blowing out a hard breath, Liam shoved both hands through his hair, locked his fingers together, and took a step back. “I better go. It’d really screw things up here if we woke up married tomorrow.”

“Right. Good thinking,” she said, her mouth curling into a slow, knowing smile. “’Cause I promise you this, I won’t be nearly as nice the next time you divorce me.”

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About Laura DrewryLaura_headshot1

USA Today Bestselling author, Laura Drewry had been scribbling things for years before she decided to seriously sit down and write. After spending eight years in the Canadian north, Laura now lives back home in southwestern British Columbia with her husband, three sons, a turtle named Sheldon, and an extremely energetic German shepherd. She loves old tattered books, good movies, country music, and the New York Yankees.

Connect with Laura: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Giveaway

A $25 eGift card to choice book seller
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Release Blast & Giveaway for Getting Wound Up by Jennifer Bernard and Erin Nicholas

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GettingWoundUp.CoverGetting Wound Up
A Sapphire Falls/Love Between the Bases Crossover Novel
By: Jennifer Bernard and Erin Nicholas
Releasing April 12, 2016
EN Fiction, Inc.

About Getting Wound Up

Caitlyn Murray has never let on that she’s had fantasies about her brother’s friend Eli Anderson for years. She’d do anything for the sexy baseball player who walked away from stardom to stay in Sapphire Falls and take care of his family. But she and Eli are friends. Just friends.

So when her brother hatches a plan to get Eli to the pro baseball try-out for the Kilby Catfish and another chance at his dream, Caitlyn is all in. After all, what’s a little kidnapping among friends?

A spot on the pitcher’s mound for the Catfish isn’t the only tempting thing about the spontaneous road trip. Eli already knows that Caitlyn is as sweet as the candies she makes for the Sapphire Falls bakery, but alone with her overnight in the tiny motel room in Kansas, it’s impossible to resist the urge to take a little taste.

But when that taste leads to falling for the girl next door just as his front door is moving hundreds of miles away, can Eli really have it all? Or do they have too many strikes against them?

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Caitlyn felt her stool being swiveled. She came face-to-face with Eli.
“Eli, what—”
He cupped the back of her head and covered her mouth with his.
It didn’t last long. At least, it didn’t last long enough, in her opinion. But it was … amazing. Yes, that was definitely the word for the day.
“Did you really memorize each of my tryout pitches?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
She nodded, unable to speak. Because she’d also memorized the feel of his lips against hers. And she wanted to keep reliving it.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For memorizing them?” she managed to ask.
“For caring.”
She melted a little at that. “I can’t help it.”
She immediately bit her lip. Crap. She had to stop with the slips. On this one she could blame her kiss-muddled brain, but …
Hey, he’d kissed her.
“You kissed me,” she said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.
“I did.”
She couldn’t help but let her gaze drop to his mouth.
“And I want to do it again.”
Her eyes flew back to his.
“There is really something sexy about you knowing all about pitching and every detail of my tryout and believing in me so adamantly.”
Oh boy, she really wanted to kiss him again. Or have him kiss her. However, whatever, it took to get his mouth on hers.
“Then I overheard you talking to Bryan. You really do think I’m amazing. You aren’t just saying that to me.”
“I’ve always thought you were amazing,” she said.
He pulled her close and lowered his head. “Yeah, the wanting to kiss you isn’t new either.”
And then he was.
It was so much more than the spontaneous good-luck kiss. It was even more than the one just a minute ago. This one was much more … intentional.
His lips moved over hers slowly, deliberately, as if he was savoring her. After only a few seconds she was clinging to him, his shirt fisted in her hands, her back arching as she tried to get closer.
Caitlyn felt his hand move to the back of her neck, holding her in place as he tasted her, his tongue sliding along her lower lip and then in against her tongue when she sighed.
When he finally lifted his head, she swore that she could still feel his tongue on hers. And in a few other places it hadn’t actually been.
“Whoa,” she breathed out.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“We should … ”
“Stop.”
“Do that again.”
They spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time.
He let go of her and stepped back.
“You think we should stop,” she said, trying not to show just how disappointed she was.
“You think we should keep going?” He looked a little stunned at that.
“I think I need another shot.” She raised her hand and signaled the waitress.
She was definitely going to need another, because she’d just made a life-altering decision. Do or die. All or nothing. Play hard or go home.
Gulp.

About Jennifer BernardJennifer_Bernard

Jennifer Bernard is a graduate of Harvard and a former news promo producer. The child of academics, she confounded her family by preferring romance novels to … well, any other books. She left big city life for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She’s no stranger to book success, as she also writes erotic novellas under a naughty secret name not to be mentioned at family gatherings.

Connect with Jennifer Bernard:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Erin NicholasAbout Erin Nicholas

Erin Nicholas is the author of sexy contemporary romances. Her stories have been described as toe-curling, enchanting, steamy and fun. She loves to write about reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines and happily ever afters. She lives in the Midwest with her husband who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books, her kids who will never read the sex scenes in her books, and family and friends who say they’re shocked by the sex scenes in her books (yeah, right!).

Connect with Erin Nicholas:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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Giveaway

Win a signed copy of Getting Over It by Erin Nicholas and Caught By You by Jennifer Bernard
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Be sure to click on the Tasty Book Tours banner to check out the entire tour schedule. Thank you Tasty!

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