Category Archives: Book Promo

Book Promo: Surrender @ViolettaRand

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Title: Surrender
Series: The Devil’s Den, Book 1
Author: Violetta Rand
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Published: January 27th, 2015

Surrender

Summary
Welcome to the Devil’s Den, a Texas strip club where the air is heavy with desire—and sometimes dreams come true.

Ever since her mother kicked her out, twenty-year-old Robyn Gonzalez has been working the poles at the Devil’s Den, saving up to finish college and travel the world. With only her wits and her gorgeous body to rely on, Robyn has learned to be independent—fiercely independent. She’s never been tempted to let a man distract her from her dreams . . . until she meets the dead-sexy Garrick Dempsey.

The club’s new head of security, Garrick had walked away from a career as a mechanical engineer to return to his roots in Corpus Christi. He hadn’t planned on getting to know someone like Robyn, with her sinfully sweet combination of vulnerability and strength, at the Devil’s Den. She acts tough, but only because she’s been hurt. Soon Garrick knows he will do anything to win Robyn’s trust. And if that means surrendering to the red-hot chemistry between them, all the better.

Words: 240 Pgs | Heat Level: Hot | Pre-Order: Amazon

Excerpt
A loud banging noise from somewhere near the manager’s office startles me. I stand up. I can’t see very well. Only three lampposts are working near the end of the pier. None of the ones closest to me are on. I grab my backpack, stuff the towel inside, zip it up, and walk hurriedly toward the office. I grab my cell phone from my pocket and keep it at the ready. I see movement as I get closer to the office. The door slams shut. I freeze, listening.
“Where’s the goddamned money, Franco?”
I don’t have it,” I hear the manager answer.
Nothing about this situation feels right. I have strong fight-or-flight instincts. And that voice inside is telling me to run. Now.
“Ten thousand dollars just went poof?” the angry stranger asks.
“No,” Franco answers. “I spent it on my family.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Honesty isn’t always the best policy if your ass is on the line. I know this situation—I’ve overheard similar conversations between men in the club. No wonder Franco stays late. He’s dealing drugs after hours. I know it.
There’s a pause in the conversation. I slip forward a few feet. Maybe I should walk on by. Casually. Yeah, that won’t work.
“Put your hand on the desk,” the stranger commands.
“No . . .” Franco refuses feebly. “I won’t let you hurt me.”
That elicits an evil laugh. I shudder. I’m getting nervous for Franco. He’s always been nice to me. Don’t get involved, I tell myself. I have enough to deal with.
“Put your hand on the fucking desk.”
“No.”
The exchange is more heated now, more desperate.
This is the best time to make my exit. I’m a great sprinter; I went all-state in high school. I sling my backpack across my left shoulder and grip my phone tightly in my right hand. Go! I run past the office, clearing the end of the pier, and hit sand before I hear someone in hot pursuit. Sand turns to gravelly asphalt and I slip on my sandals. Damn it. I’ll lose precious seconds if I look over my shoulder. How many races did I blow as a freshman looking back? I won’t make that mistake again. I kick off my sandals and run. Harder and faster.
The sound of boots pounding asphalt is all the inspiration I need to keep moving. He’s gaining on me. I run past my car and hit sand again. Over the first sand dune I see lights in the near distance. I’m heaving for breath and sweating like a pig. Fishermen frequent the beach this time of night. I keep running, hoping someone will be there.
“Get back here, bitch . . .”
Please. Please. Please. I almost collide with the back bumper of a Chevy Silverado. I drop to my knees and look up. There’s a dark figure coming around the side of the vehicle. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t see straight. My blood is pumping, my mind racing.
“What’s going on?” I hear a man ask.
“It’s none of your business.” The same asshole that ordered Franco to put his hand on the desk is pissed off at me now. I still don’t know what he looks like, and really don’t want to. I grimace.

About the Author
ViolettaRaised in Corpus Christi, Texas, Violetta Rand spent her childhood reading, writing, and playing soccer. After meeting her husband in New England, they moved to Alaska where she studied environmental science and policy as an undergraduate before attending graduate school. Violetta then spent nearly a decade working as an environmental scientist, specializing in soil and water contamination and environmental assessments.Violetta still lives in Anchorage, Alaska and spends her days writing evocative New Adult romance and historical romance. When she’s not reading, writing, or editing, she enjoys time with her husband, pets, and friends. In her free time, she loves to hike, fish, and ride motorcycles and 4-wheelers.

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Promo: #TheForgetting @nicolemaggi

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Title: The Forgetting
Author: Nicole Maggi
Genre: Young Adult, Romance, Mystery
Published: February 3rd 2015

TheForgettingCover

Summary
All Georgie wants after she wakes up from her heart transplant is to go back to her old life, filled with good friends, a close-knit family, and her dream of getting into Juilliard to study the oboe. But almost immediately she starts to hear The Catch; a breath, a hiccup, in between her heartbeats. Worse, she’s forgetting things, things she would never in a million years forget, like the fact that she has a deadly strawberry allergy. In its place is the memory of her fifth birthday party…complete with a strawberry shortcake.

Georgie knows that memory isn’t hers, just like the memory of a room that she’s never been in or a lonely street corner that she’s never visited. Convinced that the memories are of her donor, she’s determined to figure out what happened to the girl whose heart now beats in her chest. The path to answers leads her straight to the boy that her donor loved, and into an underbelly of society that she never imagined existed. As Georgie searches for the truth, her own memories continue to disappear and she must solve the mystery of her donor’s death before she loses herself completely.

About the Author
NicoleMaggiNicole Maggi was born in the suburbs of upstate New York, and began writing poems about unicorns and rainbows at a very early age.  She detoured into acting, earned a BFA from Emerson College, and moved to NYC where she performed in lots of off-off-off-Broadway Shakespeare.  After a decade of schlepping groceries on the subway, she and her husband hightailed it to sunny Los Angeles, where they now reside, surrounded by fruit trees, with their young daughter and two oddball cats.  She is also the author of THE TWIN WILLOWS TRILOGY, published by Medallion Press.  The first book, WINTER FALLS, is available now.

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Book Promo: In For the Kill @shannonmckenna4

Title: In For The Kill
Author: Shannon McKenna
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published: January 27th, 2015

INFORTHEKILL

Summary
Years ago, the McClouds and their friends rescued little Sveti Ardova from ruthless organ traffickers. Now she’s all grown up, and getting into some scorching trouble of her own . . .

NO SURRENDER

The risks ex-cop Sam Petrie has taken have turned his life into a train wreck. So he has nothing to lose by doubling down as the elusive Svetlana Ardova’s unwanted bodyguard on her ill-advised trip to Italy. Her crusade against modern slavery has blazoned a bullseye on her chest, but when one of the death threats against her almost hits the mark, Sam’s protective instincts go into overdrive. Every lethal obstacle and trap they encounter ups the stakes—and the undeniable heat between them.

Now they’re spiraling in on a deadly and explosive secret—one that could either redeem them or destroy them … and the closer they get, the shorter the fuse …

HELP SPREAD THE WORD TO SUPPORT THE THUNDERCLAP!

About the Author
ShannonShannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of over ten action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. Alas, the alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she’d ever dreamed. But what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments. She loves to hear from her readers. Contact her at her website, http://shannonmckenna.com, or join the newsletter by signing up here:http://shannonmckenna.com/connect.php.

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Book Promo: Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go @TalkinTwang

BannerTied
Title: Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go
Series: Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy (Book 3)
Author: Ann Everett
Genre: Mystery, Humor
Published: August 2014

TiedwithaBow

Summary
Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper has investigated some odd cases during his career, but when local chicken farmer, Jay Roy Hobbs, is found dead, wearing nothing but boots and a bow, it becomes the strangest one yet. On the positive side, the lawman won’t lack for suspects. Turns out the victim got up close and personal with most of the girls in his graduating class and they’re in town for a reunion. All Ridge has to do is tolerate a talking parrot and consult a color wheel as he tries to determine if the culprit is one of Jay Roy’s three ex-wives or a high school conquest.

While her husband looks into his latest murder case, Tizzy Cooper has problems of her own. She’s joined forces with first cousin and local PI, Jinx Monroe, to follow a possible cheating husband, confront their Nana about baking Boom Brownies, and drench-a-wench at the local Renaissance Faire.

Excerpt
Jay Roy Hobbs held the county record for talking women out of their panties. At least that’s what Tizzy Cooper had heard. Rumor said ladies ignored his lack of good looks and fell for his quick wit. Now, staring at him through binoculars, she wasn’t so sure humor was his main appeal.

She swallowed the lump that’d been lodged in her throat since arriving on the scene. It wasn’t the sight of a dead body that bothered her. She’d seen plenty of those over the years. Her talent for talking to the dearly departed made it a frequent occurrence. But while the rest of Brownsboro’s citizens were having their first cup of coffee, she was five miles out of town, at the edge of a field, swatting mosquitos. Not the way she intended to start her day.

Sunlight filtered through naked limbs of an old tree and cast shadows across colonies of Bishop’s Weed standing tall like lacy parasols. The only thing ruining the spring array, Jay Roy’s lifeless body.

At first, Tizzy considered he might be asleep or unconscious, but after calling out to him with no response, and given the color of his skin, along with the buzzards overhead, she decided on a third choice.

Stepping onto an old stump to get a better view, she focused the field glasses. About fifty yards away, the man lay naked, except for boots and a bow, on a patch-work quilt, face toward heaven, arms outstretched. Something twisted in Tizzy’s chest. Jay Roy and her mom had graduated high school together which made him much too young to die.

A few feet to the right, Tizzy’s friends, Synola Harper and Rayann Tatum, shaded their faces and squinted toward the dead man. Tizzy stepped off the stump, adjusted the straps of her sundress and decided they must be as surprised as she by the sight, because neither of them said a word until she passed the field glasses to Synola.

“Lord, can you believe the size of that thing?” Synola let the binoculars dangle around her neck. She tugged her red tank top against warm mocha skin, tucked it into the slender waist of her jeans and smirked at Rayann. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen anything that big.” 

Rayann tossed her head, blonde curls bouncing with the movement, then narrowed her green eyes and frowned. “Of course I have. I watch HBO.” 

About the Author
AnnAnn Everett embraces her small town upbringing and thinks Texans are some of the funniest people on earth.  When speaking to writing groups, businesses, book clubs, and non-profit organizations, she incorporates her special brand of wit, making her programs on marketing, self-publishing, and the benefits of laughter, informative and fun.
An award winning author, she’s also a member of Northeast Texas Writers’ Organization and a top ten reviewer on thenextbigwriter.com
When Ann’s not writing, she spends her days listening in on people’s conversations at the local Wal-Mart, beauty shop, Goodwill, and numerous other gathering spots. She draws from that research to pen her romantic suspense novels full of southern sass and Texas twang. For her new adult romance stories, she blends her dramatic writing style with a kick of humor.

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B.Pro: Lover In Law

Lover-In-Law-Jo-Kessel

Blurb
Harbouring an unmentionable secret is not an obvious route to maternal bliss….. or is it?
Alo Kirk’s had a bad year. An ambitious London lawyer, her courtroom performances have started to slide and her obsession with having a baby is undermining her relationship with boyfriend Adam. Come January 1st she resolves that in the next twelve months her life has to turn around.
Life, however, is about to get worse. Buy juggling fertility tests with a high-profile-criminal trial at the Old Bailey, Ali starts burning the midnight oil with powerfully handsome colleague Anthony de Klerk. On a night that she’s slipped on some sexy underwear to boost her flagging self-esteem, Ali and Anthony finally end up in bed together. And then she falls pregnant. Ali becomes the ultimate woman sleuth – who is the father, Adam or Anthony?
En route from pregnancy to having a baby there’s romance and rows, mystery and denials, suspense and comedy. And the ultimate, uncomfortable realization that only one thing will set Ali free: the truth.

Cover

Excerpt
My pink panties are lying somewhere on Anthony’s bedroom floor, strewn with the rest of our clothes. They’d been lying at the back of the cupboard, unworn since that day I tried them on in France. Why I put them on this morning, of all mornings, is probably best understood by my subconscious. There were the last item of clothing to be removed and didn’t go unnoticed. They should have though, because they should never have come off, but it’s as much as I can do to concentrate on the here and now. On Anthony running his hands masterfully over my body, up and down the insides of my legs, tracing a teasing line from my collar-bone to my navel, dwelling lightly on my breasts as I arch to meet his touch, telling me they’re not too big, not too small, but perfect. I writhe underneath as he lies on top of me, softly kissing the sides of my neck, the front and then my mouth, more ugrently. I dare a man to have a better body than his. His frame is tall, perfectly proportioned, broad yet lithe, naturally athletic with beautiful muscle definition. His is, quite simply, gorgeous. And the feel of his skin, oh his skin, on my hands and my body. It’s soft and smooth and I can’t get enough of it as my hands stroke up and down his back, from his shoulders to his sculpted buttocks, pulling him tighter and closer, yearning to have him inside. His eyes, big dark brown eyes with felcks of black and green, his thick yielding, sexy mouth and the deep, rick, coffee-colour of him are intoxicating. In all my life I’ve only ever been with one man. I never knew I could feel so heated, this animal, this nexessity, this pleasure and such exstasy as he finally enters huge and deep and slowly and expertly, exquisitely brings us to climax.

—————————————————————-

“Don’t go,” he says, trying to catch my arm as I roll over to get up.
“I’ve got to,” I say.
It doesn’t feel right to stay the night, even if Adam is away. Anthony offered to drive me home but I opted for a cab, which is on its way. I get dressed, item by item, as he lies there, watching.
“You have got the most beautiful body. You know that, sexy lady?”
He must be talking about somebody else,
“You’re not bad yourself.”
I turn my head. I shouldn’t be here, having this conversation. Accepting and paying compliments this way.
“What is it?” he asks.
He can’t see my face, but the way I’m holding my body, so very, very still, probably gives away how I’m feeling. Tense, confused, excited and yes, the first soupcon of guilt is seeping in. I’ve never done anything like this before, never even been tempted.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you’re attached. I should have left well alone. It’s just there’s something about you,” he peters out.
I don’t want to ruin the beauty of what we’ve just shared and it’s not about attributing blame anyway.
“Don’t apologise,” I say. “It takes two to tango.”
“I know, but I want you to know that I don’t make a habit of this,” he carries on. “Seducing women who are attached isn’t really my style.”
The buzzer rings.
“Right then,” I say, picking my jacket up off the floor. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Anthony pulls the sheet round his waist, gets out of bed and follows me to the front door. There’s an awkward moment. I’m not quite sure what to say. I turn the latch.
“Right then. See ya.”
“See ya,” he replies.
He bends down, kisses me on the mouth, I open the door, kiss my finger, place it to his lips and leave.

About the Author
Jo KesselJo Kessel is a journalist, working for the BBC and reporting and presenting for ITV on holiday, consumer and current affairs programs. She writes for several national newspapers in the UK including the Daily Mail, the Telegraph, the Guardian and the Express and was the anonymous author of the Independent’s hit column: Dairy of a Primary School Mum.
When Jo was ten years old she wrote a short story about losing a loved one. Her mother and big sister were so moved by the tale that it made them cry. Having reduced them to tears she vowed that the next time she wrote a story it would make them smile instead. Happily she succeeded and with this success grew an addiction for wanting to reach out and touch people with words. Jo lives in London with her husband and three children. She loves traveling and since becoming a mother anything even remotely sad makes her cry. She’s a sucker for a good romance and tearjerker movies are the worst. She’s that woman in the cinema, struggling to muffle audible wails as everyone else turns round to stare.

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