Blog Tour

Lost in the Florist by Riley Long & Marie James

Lost in the Florist Promos

Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway:
Lost in the Florist
By Riley Long & Marie Cole

Blooming Hearts, Book 1

Lost in the Florist Cover

A fast-paced, sexy romance in the woods that will make Smokey Bear come running.

Jax fled his small hometown eight years ago to make it big in LA. His music career took off and he hasn’t been back to see his childhood best friend Emmett–his first, unrequited love–since. No man has lived up to that first love, though Jax has certainly tried.

When he finally gets a vacation, Jax decides to put his playboy ways behind him, surprise Emmett with a visit, and finally lay his feelings on the line. But Emmett has a few surprises up his sleeve, too–including one big secret. Emmett is a virgin.

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The second Jax placed his can in the cup holder, his phone started vibrating. His heart leapt a little, but when he flipped the phone over, he saw that it was just his manager, not his best friend Emmett calling to tease him with more mental imagery of the blow job he’d always dreamed of–not that Emmett knew that. Jax had kept that little fantasy very close to his chest throughout high school. Their small town wasn’t exactly the gay man’s safe haven and the jocks had a reputation for being extremely anti-queer. Jax hadn’t thought Emmett was anti-queer, but he was on the football team, and Jax knew if there was even a sniff of male on male activity that it would spread like wildfire through the school. Part of him still regretted not saying “Fuck it” and kissing his best friend when he’d had the chance. He’d come close once.

He swiped the screen to answer the phone and scooped it up. “Hey, Ron.” In his free hand, he picked up the remote for the TV and turned it on, quickly muting the volume and switching it over to the internet browser. He pinned the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“Jax, hey. Just calling to tell you everything’s all arranged.”

“Uh, what’s that now?” Jax was already only half-listening to Ron, attempting to navigate the TV’s browser to at the same time.

“The R&R you asked for. The time off. We’ve got it all arranged. You’re going to be staying in a little cabin about a thirty minute drive outside of Camellia. The cabin is already reserved. Do you need me to send someone to stay with you? Sophia maybe?”

The double-meaning was thick in Ron’s tone, catching Jax’s full attention. “Ron, there was only one time that the paparazzi took pictures of me with her. And I told you, we didn’t actually do anything. It was all just coincidental. Uh, circumstantial. Whatever that word is. It just looked compromising. There’s no actual evidence that we hooked up because nothing happened.” He let his gaze travel across the screen, thumbnails of naked guys in all sorts of configurations, waiting for him to choose. “Besides, I’m going there to surprise my best friend, not to get laid.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Listen, it’s none of my business, I’m just trying to keep you happy.” Ron cleared his throat. “The cabin is all yours in a little over a week.”

“This time off is all I need to stay happy. A couple of weeks of rest before the wolves start howling at my door again.” He spotted an image of a muscular man with short brown hair and a beard, frozen in mid-kiss with a guy with a lean, sculpted body, and clicked on it. Immediately, the video took up his full screen and started playing, the two men on a couch, wearing nothing but underwear and making out. His dick twitched and started to grow. “Listen, Ron, I gotta go. Something’s just come up and I need to take care of it. Thanks again. Bye.” He pressed the button to end the call without waiting for a confirmation from his manager and tossed the phone on the bed next to him again.


Enter the Giveaway:

To celebrate the release of Lost in the Florist, we are giving 2 lucky winners the chance to win an e-copy of Lost in the Florist and an e-book of their choice from Riley Long’s published backlist.

Enter here:



About Riley:

Riley Long is a wife and mother living a quiet life in Virginia, with her husband, son, and one goofy pit bull. She passes her evenings writing, reading, and watching bad television (or not so bad television). For fun, Riley participates in NaNoWriMo, GISH, and reads with her book club, the BAMFs. She likes things with silly acronyms. The craziest thing Riley has ever done involves whipped cream and hugs. Riley writes sweet and sexy romance, with a special place in her heart for hipsters and musicians.

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About Marie:

Marie Cole is the author of the contemporary romance #JustFriends Series. Lost in the Florist is her very first boy/boy romance and she’s super excited to be stepping into the m/m arena beside her writer bestie, Riley Long.

She is currently living in Virginia, is a self-professed Kwave addict, Karaoke Queen, and social binge drinker. When she’s not writing she’s taking photos of everything from her fluffy cat Dustpan to birds conversing on her porch. She loves to show them off on her Instagram account.

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Release Blitz

The Boss by Ellie Isaacson

Title: The Boss
Series: The Hitman Series
Author: Ellie Isaacson
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
Release Date: June 23, 2020
Cover Design: Francessca Wingfield at Francessca’s PR & Design
I hated him from the moment I first saw him.
Those bright blue eyes brought reminders of my biggest regret, my greatest loss, the thing that tortured me and had me struggling for control.
Each time I pushed him, he pushed back. Each time he touched me, something in me broke.
He would be the death of me, but I couldn’t stop.
Her brothers brought me into their family. Gave me the one thing I needed more than anything else. Then they asked me to do something I wasn’t sure I could.
Take care of her.
She was trouble wrapped up in a gorgeous package, but I wanted to wrap her in my arms. Soothe her worries, calm her fears, show her what it felt like to let go.
The fire between us ignited. But as the walls burned down around me, I’d be forced to choose between the life I’d always known, and the love of my life.
Natalia stood in my way at the door, arms crossed at her chest. She was all power and authority, head held high like a princess. ’Cept the way she looked, her breasts pressed high, the dip between them on display like a gold medal prize? Took all I had not to drink her in. Not to rake my gaze over every last inch of her skin. The swell of her breasts. The smooth curve of her hips. That little pucker of her button bared at her midriff, just begging to be kissed. 
My mouth dried up and my tongue grew thick. My body reacted with a twitch. Blood rushed south and my fingers itched to touch the fire that blazed deep in her eyes. 
But I didn’t. 
It was a hazard I couldn’t touch. 
From day one, she was trouble.
My hair stood on end as I inched past her. Caught her gaze as she dragged her eyes up from my chest, but I pushed on, rushing past. 
“You think I’m scared of you?” she questioned, voice like a bulldog as she chased me down the hall.
I stopped. 
Took a step backward into the wall as she pushed into my space. 
“Nah, baby girl. You ain’t scared of no one but yourself.” 
She took a step closer, hand pressed against my chest, shoving me into the cold cement. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said on a scowl. 
“Means whatever you need it to.” 
She narrowed her eyes and I leaned toward her face. “You stand there looking down at me, judging from your tower? Pretending you ain’t got desire in your heart? I see you, little bird. You running scared from anything you can’t control.” My thumb dragged across her full bottom lip as a war raged behind those dark blue eyes. 
Her lips parted. Her eyes closed. She sucked in a sharp breath. 
Quick as a flash, her whole being awoke. She pulled back, swinging her fist at my face. I knocked it away, but she swung again. The back of her hand collided with my cheek, stunning me but not hurting too much. She swung again, harder this time. My hand caught hers, twisted her in her place. I swept my foot out, catching the leg that held her grounded to the floor. 
Her tower toppled. 
She began to fall. 
I’d never let her break. 
I pulled her back against my chest, one arm locked tight around her waist, my other arm pinning her arms across her chest. She squirmed. Raged. Energy crackled and snapped like electricity across a line. Her breath heaved, then held. 
Her body melted against my own.   
Felt every curve and swell as her heated body melded to mine. Felt that tension fade, the electricity sparking and holding strong. Felt the throb and twitch in my jeans against the tight curve of her ass. Felt her heartbeat pound out a steady beat against my chest. 
I raised a shaky hand to her chin, tilting her face toward mine as I skimmed the tip of my nose along her cheek. Her quiet breaths came quick, her body leaning on me like she’d lost her strength. My lips brushed her skin, the taste of her so close. 
“Don’t you worry, baby girl,” I whispered against her cheek, the tip of my tongue licking her sweat from my lips. “I’ll be here to catch you when you fall.” 
She shuddered in my arms. Quick as it left her, that tension made a rebound. Shaking through her, rising up, an inferno devouring everything soft. It exploded out of her, her hands tearing at my skin as she made her escape. 
Cold, cold eyes locked on mine. Her chest heaved, her face giving an angry twitch. Hands shoved hard at my chest and her gorgeous voice gave a quake as it tore through her throat. “Get away from me!” 
She spun. 
Ran, head down as she fled. 
Like she couldn’t get away fast enough. 
I shook my head, watching her go. Called after and her body jumped. “You keep pushing ever’body away, little bird, eventually there ain’t gonna be nobody left.”
Ellie Isaacson has been an avid reader her whole life, but a couple years ago she had a dream that she just couldn’t forget. She cultivated that dream and began writing, which became a dream of a different sort. Ellie is thrilled to be able to share her passion with her readers. As an accountant and an author, she slings numbers by day and words by night. She’s also a wife and a mother of two amazing boys.
Release Blitz

Hayley by Kathryn Shay

Title: Hayley
Series: The Casella Cousins Book 1
Author: Kathryn Shay
Genre: Contemporary Romance Novella
Release Date: June 23, 2020
She drives him crazy in court. He’s the most irritating, self-absorbed defense attorney she’s ever met. What happens when a couple like this goes from enemies to lovers in one moonlit night on his boat?
Assistant District Attorney Hayley Casella wants to tear her hair out whenever she has to argue against her nemesis, Paul Covington, in court. She’s battled the white-collar defense attorney for a year and their appearances together are only getting more emotional and tinged with sexual tension.
Hot shot attorney Paul Covington is not letting DA Casella ruin his chances of becoming a partner in the prestigious law firm he joined last year. She’s a looker and smart as hell, but he’s as determined to show her up as she’s determined to put him down.
This heartfelt legal drama is backdropped by the glamor of New York City galas, restaurants and boat trips on the ocean. Will Haley and Paul be able navigate the murky waters of competing careers and baggage from their childhoods to make a life together?
Don’t miss all The Casella Cousins Books: Hayley, Seth, Finn, Alessia, Gideon and Ronan from the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author Kathryn Shay.
He was slick, all right. Hayley Casella watched her nemesis walk across the over-sized courtroom with a confident stride. He turned a big, smarmy smile on the female witness. Well, not smarmy exactly. Secure. Scintillating. Maybe sexy. If she didn’t despise him so much, she might…
Best not to think about that.
“Mrs. Thomas, you comfortable? Need anything?” He was delaying the point, which he always did to build up tension. After arguing several cases with him, she knew his tactics.
The elderly woman put her hand on her heart. “Why, I don’t think so, Mr. Covington.”
“Good, good.” Covington pivoted slightly and glanced at Hayley, his expression one of amusement. He didn’t take her seriously, which maddened her. Her brother Finn said he was psyching her out, which was worse. Every time she argued with him, she vowed not to fall into that trap.
“Now, for the day in question, June 12th, did you see the fight in the cafeteria?”
“I was supervising the second lunch period. There’s a group of boys who act up.”
“Act up how?”
“They make rude noises. They say things to girls. They try to leave early. I alerted the principals to this, but nothing was done.”
“What did these boys do on June 12th?”
“They picked on a younger student. They always do. His name is Bobby Hanson, right there in the audience.”
“How do they pick on him?”
“They topple his tray. Once they tripped him.”
“Did he get hurt with their mischief?”
“I object.”
Amy Branson, the judge, was a fair, respected woman in her fifties. She was also tough on decorum. “What’s your objection, ADA Casella?”
Mischief is not what we’re prosecuting in this courtroom. Mr. Covington’s use of the term is not only erroneous, but insensitive.” She extended her arm with a flourish. “As you can see in the third row, Jamie Callahan assaulted Bobby Hanson.”
Callahan was rich kid who’d gotten into Grayson Academy only because his parents donated money. Bobby, on the other hand, had won a scholarship to go there. His mother said she thought he’d be safe from the public-school bullying. Little did she know the likes of Jamie Callahan populated the school.
Since Bobby was sitting where she pointed, the jury would witness the casts on both his arms.
“You have not proved the assault was perpetrated by my client!”
“Hmm, I wonder why.” She turned back to the judge and smiled sweetly. “We located several eyewitnesses to the incident, that for some unknown reason are getting picked off, one by one.”
“Now, I object.” Whirling around, Paul Covington’s face flushed. Angular, rough-hewn features, eyes as blue as the Caribbean Sea, and full lips were all accented by his anger. “The implication of Ms. Casella’s histrionics is that perhaps my client had something to do with witnesses recanting.”
“I retract the question.” Under her breath she said, “Histrionics, my ass.”
“Your honor, could you please muzzle her asides?”
She pivoted quickly. “Muzzle? How dare you refer to women with animal imagery?”
A hard gavel silenced them. It echoed in the large room, wood-paneled, with a row of windows and sky-high ceilings. “I declare a fifteen-minute recess. Counselors, in my chambers.” Judge Branson glared at them. “Now.”
They followed her into her large office, with wood paneling interrupted by shelves filled with books, a television, several framed awards and degrees. Leather couches and a chair faced wide windows. A bathroom completed the suite. She removed her robe, hung it up on a hanger and sat behind her desk. Like school children, Hayley and Paul stood before her.
“I have had it with you two. Every time you show up in my courtroom, I cringe knowing what’s coming. And I’m not the only judge in the circuit who dreads dealing with you.”
“Do not speak. This is a warning. One more clash like what I just endured and I’ll put both of you in jail for contempt. Do you two even understand the concept?”
They both nodded.
“Then tell me. You begin, ADA.”
“Contempt is being disobedient to or disrespectful toward a court of law and its officers.”
“Mr. Covington, what behavior happens in contempt?”
“Behavior that opposes or defies the authority, justice and dignity of the court.”
“Now that we’ve established the definition, I hope you can see that name calling and asides are disrespectful and disruptive. If this happens again, you will be hauled away and jailed.”
Contempt charges issued to lawyers rarely, if ever, happened. Hayley couldn’t think of any lawyer being accused of it.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now leave me alone for five minutes to recover from you.”
They turned and walked out the door. Hell, all Paul Covington did was get her in trouble.
* * *
They both marched into the corridor. “You’re the only one I get in trouble with,” he called out to the woman ahead of him, after he let the door to the judge’s chambers shut softly. He hated when he behaved this way.
Stopping, Casella turned. “Are you talking to me?”
“Of course I am.” He asked, “When are you going to learn to behave?”
She shook her head, dislodging a few tendrils from the knot at her neck. She always scraped it back like some elderly matron and the style was unattractive. For as prim as she looked, she was hell on wheels.
But now, those usually snapping green eyes clouded. “You sound like my father.”
“Who didn’t do a very good job raising you.”
That took the starch out of her. Her already light complexion paled making freckles stand out. Finally, she said, “Since he died when I was nine, and I missed so much time with him, that’s a shitty thing to say, even for you.”
Some starch left him, too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He’d lost his father, too, but in a different way.
“I don’t want your condolences.”
“What do you want from me, Casella?”
“Your behavior in court is atrocious. I’d like you to show some manners.”
“The pot’s calling the kettle black there, don’t you think?”
“I comport myself well.”
“Not according to Judge Branson.” He frowned. “Could she have really meant she’d throw us in jail?” He winked at her to piss her off. “I have a hot date tonight.”
“Give the woman my condolences.” She walked away. He watched her hips sway in the dark green suit she wore with a sage blouse. Then he cursed himself for noticing.
* * *
During the lunch break, a very interesting visitor came to Hayley’s office. Now, she stood at the prosecution table. “I call Harry Jenkins to the stand.”
Covington shot out of his chair. “He wasn’t on the witness list.”
That was true but she delighted in needling him. She widened her eyes in sham innocence. She and her brother Ronan were in all the plays in high school, and though he was a lot better than she was, she remembered how to act. “This witness came forth during lunch.” And shocked her with his story. “He followed the reports on the trial online.”
“Approach,” the judge said wearily. There had been no fireworks in this afternoon session—so far.
“Who is this guy?” Covington asked, his tone belligerent. Maybe she could finagle it so only he was accused of contempt.
“The former principal of the last school Jamie Callahan got kicked out of.”
“Once again, Ms. Casella is quoting facts not in evidence.” He arched a brow. “What’s the relevance of Mr. Jenkins?”
She looked at him like he was a cockroach. “You’ll see if you let me question him.” She made the statement in a sugary voice to upset him more.
“ADA Casella!” Again, Judge Branson was angry. “I’m going to allow the witness but no more surprises from you.”
“Yes, Judge,” she said demurely.
A tall, thin man with the bearing of a Dean of Students he used to be came to the front, was seated and sworn in. “Thank you for coming forward, Mr. Jenkins.”
He nodded. “I felt it was my duty.”
“Tell us how you know Jamie Callahan.”
“I was a teacher at Havisham Prep, then became Dean of Students.” Another of the most prestigious private schools in New York. The name came right out of a Dickens novel.
“And did you know the Callahans? Jamie?”
“Yes to both.”
“What kind of student was he?”
“He was a C student.” The man cleared his throat. “And young Mr. Callahan was a bully.”
“How did that manifest itself?”
“I object.”
Hayley barked, “On what grounds?”
She suffered a stern look from the judge. “Mr. Covington, what do you object to?”
“I can see this witness is going to be important. I need time to prepare my cross examination.”
“I object to that. You said all you wanted was relevance. You accuse us of having no corroboration or pattern in Mr. Callahan’s behavior.”
“You ambushed me.”
“Your honor, as I said, Mr. Jenkins came forward at lunch time.” She turned to Paul. “I’m sorry if Mr. Covington can’t keep up. Perhaps your second chair, Ms. Parker over there, can help you.”
A lovely woman, Marcy Parker was a good second chair. At least she was well-behaved.
Judge Branson banged her gavel. Her face red, she announced, “I’m going to allow this witness then adjourn for the weekend.” She glared at first Hayley, then Covington. “And I’m charging you both with direct contempt of court for misconduct. Bailiff, you can take them away as soon as we finish with Mr. Jenkins.”
“The next one of you to speak will get two nights.”
“Overnight?” Hayley asked.
“Yes. Proceed, Ms. Casella.”
Upset at the prospect of jail time, Hayley was off-kilter now. “W-what did Callahan do to make you label him a bully?”
“He picked on weak classmates. Backed them into corners, stuffed them in lockers. I tried to punish him so nothing worse would happen. But his parents…had sway with the board.”
“Ah. Did he ever hurt anybody?”
“Yes, a young student fell flat on the floor when he tripped the boy. Broke several of his teeth.”
“And how was Jamie punished?”
Mr. Jenkins pressed the glasses at the bridge of his nose. “He wasn’t. Again, his parents intervened.” Turning his head, his gaze narrowed on Mr. and Mrs. Callahan. “I quit the school at that point because I couldn’t tolerate the politics.”
“Do you have another job?”
“I’m afraid I was blackballed in all private schools.”
“Hmm.” She turned to the jury and said, “Another victim on Jamie Callahan.”
“I object,” Covington said.
“Of course, you do.”
* * *
Paul took it as long as he could, but he finally spoke. “I can’t stand this silence,” he admitted to the woman beside him. They’d been sitting in here in this dank, dreary and odorous cell for two hours and the only word spoken was supper when the guard brought them food. Which neither of them touched.
“I was about to say that.” She gave a small smile. In the light from the hallway—there were no windows in this tiny cave—he could see she’d bitten off her lipstick and more hair had come out of her bun. “Probably isolation is the worst thing about being in jail.”
“Not the worst, Hayley.”
She raised her auburn brows, the same color as her hair. “You’ve never called me that before.”
“It’s a nice name. Mine’s Paul, by the way.”
“I’ve known that for a year, Paul.” Since he’d joined the high-powered law firm of Cook, Cramer and Cromwell in New York after he left California and started arguing cases against her. “I heard through the legal grapevine that you want to add another C to the partner collective.”
He chuckled. “How long have you been an ADA?”
“I joined right after I passed the bar. So, five years.”
“Hmm. That makes you, thirty?”
“Not quite yet. Soon.”
“A baby.”
“What made you leave California?”
“I was born in New York. I got homesick for the glitz and glitter of the streets of New York.” He shrugged a shoulder. “It was time, I guess.”
“I’ve lived here all my life.”
“First on Long Island, then in lower Manhattan.” She didn’t want to tell him she’d grown up in the Hamptons, on the tip of Long Island. “You?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
He broke it. “What are we going to do about us?”
“You mean why we were put in here?”
“Among other things.”
“I don’t know. We shoot sparks off each other.”
That made him wonder what other kind of sparks they could shoot off. “You know, I read a study where suppressed attraction makes people fight with each other.”
Her fake shock was comical. “Why, Mr. Covington, are you saying you lust for me?”
 “Maybe when you wear that little pinkish suit with a tank top.” He let out a wolf whistle. “It makes all the men in the room sweat.”
“That is so sexist.”
Now he threw up his hands and slapped them on his thighs. “I don’t get it. When a man compliments a woman on her appearance, she calls him names for noticing her when she’s probably spent an hour that morning trying to look good.”
“An hour? Give me a break.” She had to know that, so she was pretending again. Or…
“You don’t do that?”
“I spend the half hour after I get up on my elliptical or if the weather permits, I go out for a brusque walk, then eat a nourishing breakfast. Whatever time’s left, like maybe ten minutes, I shower, get dressed and put on lipstick. Some rouge.”
“Yeah, I like you better without a lot of goop on your face.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how to take that. But in any case, Counselor, it’s your turn. What’s your morning routine?”
“I get up a couple of hours before work starts.”
“Your workday begins a lot later than mine does.”
Ignoring what she meant to be a criticism of the life he’d chosen, he continued, “I go for a run or do my treadmill, catch the news, check my email. I eat, of course, then spend about the same time you do getting ready for work.”
“Do you like your job, Paul?” She wasn’t letting that go.
“Yes, it’s exactly what I want to be doing.”
“Defending rich kids? Guilty adults?”
“Everybody deserves a defense, Hayley.”
“I agree with that. But I don’t think I could do your job.”
That pissed him off. “Lucky you don’t have to.”
“Tell me about your family. Married? Divorced? Brothers and sisters?”
“Married early on and divorced six months later. In my extended family, I have brothers and sisters.”
“Where are they?”
“In New York.”
“Why didn’t you say they were the reason you came back here?”
“Because they weren’t.”
“I don’t understand that. I adore my brothers.”
He changed the very dangerous subject. And the night wore on. He told her about living in California, what he did in his spare time, and she told him about her semester in France when she was at Radcliff. They talked about food—she loved seafood and sushi, and he was a steak man. They both liked champagne.
Hours later, she yawned.
His early training surfaced, even with her. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
A slimy cot with stains from God-knew-what sat across from them. “On that? Yuck.”
“No, here on the bench, which is at least half-clean.” He stood, removed his very expensive suitcoat and spread it on the bench.
“Hmm, maybe. I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.” She took off her jacket, too, then folded it up and laid down with it as a pillow. “Thanks. Wake me in a couple of hours so you can catch some zees in here, too.”
“Sure thing.”
She fell asleep right away. He always envied people who could do that. He had bad insomnia sometimes. Staring down at the woman with him, still visible in the hall light, he noticed her delicate bone structure. She was tall and thin. He wished she’d taken that mane of auburn hair down. And why the hell was he going down this road? Still, he watched her for a long time until he fell asleep sitting up.
* * *
Hayley bolted up into the darkness. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
He reached out and touched her arm. “Hey, calm down.”
She swiveled her legs to the floor and once she was acclimated from the hall light, she glanced next to her. “Hell. I didn’t know where I was.”
“That happens to me sometimes. No way you expected to be in jail.”
“What time is it?”
Something lit up. “Nearly four.” The guards hadn’t taken his watch.
She went to rake back her hair, and found it tied up in a bun. She secured it as much as she could with the escaping pins, then said, “You let me sleep. Thank you.” She stood up and stretched. “Your turn. Lie down.”
“I slept sitting up. I don’t need much, anyway.”
She sat back down and sighed. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
“Me, too. What kind?”
“Double latte. All fat milk, or cream.”
“No skim?”
“No. How do you like yours?”
“Black, of course.”
“That fits you.”
They both quieted.
After a while, she woke up completely. “Paul, are you going to get in trouble for this contempt of court charge?”
“Deep, deep trouble.”
 Hayley expelled a heavy breath. “Me, too. I don’t know of any cases where a lawyer was jailed for contempt.”
“I know of a few out in California. But they were released in hours. We can’t let this happen again, Hayley.”
“That’s for sure.”
His dark brows formed a vee. She’d admitted during their tenure in jail that he was an attractive man and an interesting conversationalist.
“Well, we’ve gotten to know each other some.” He chuckled. “And we did sleep together. Maybe we can be more civil in the courtroom.”
“Maybe. I’ll try.”
“I will too, Hayley.”
* * *
When she got to her apartment, Hayley dragged herself inside. She was tired now and bordering on depressed. Getting sued for contempt with Covington had been awful. The Chief Assistant of the DA’s office had already left a message she wanted to see Hayley Monday morning. Paul told her he would get in trouble over this, too.
Just as she started toward the bedroom, the doorbell rang. She and Finn, along with Ronan, inherited this place after their father’s death. Finn was out of town at a book conference in London for a week, and Ronan had disappeared completely twenty years ago. He’d never even called her or Finn in all that time. But every time the doorbell rang in their luxurious apartment in New York, she got a quick flash of hope that it was the brother she loved so dearly. On that sad note, she hauled herself to the foyer and pulled open the door.
Hell. This was all she needed.
The woman standing there had dressed in haute couture on a Saturday morning. “So, the jailbird’s out.”
“Hello, Mother. How did you get up here?”
“Robert knows me.” Bridget Sullivan’s face was pinched. Then again, whenever she laid eyes on her daughter, her features crunched up and got ugly. “Let me inside, please.”
“I was about to take a bath. I’d like to be alone.”
Bridget, as Hayley thought of her, brushed past her daughter, entered the apartment, went down the short hallway and into the living room to the right. “Come in here, Hayley.”
Best to deal with this now. Hayley went inside and sat on one of the leather couches. To say she felt scuzzy was an understatement.
Bridget surveyed the huge apartment in lower Manhattan, consisting of an oversize living space in the front with a view of the city and a kitchen behind it. Off that were two complete suites, on either side, one for her and one for Finn. Then she turned her attention to Hayley, who’d finally learned not to shrink under her icy gaze. “Imagine my surprise when I received a phone call last night from Marian Jackson asking if I knew my daughter was in jail.”
“I didn’t get even one phone call, so I couldn’t call you.” As if that would ever have entered her mind.
“Don’t be impudent.” She adjusted the skirt of her Armani suit, a peach one which complemented her severely cut blond hair. Young looking, she’d had a couple of face lifts. Her mother would fight growing old forever. Hayley vowed to go through the aging process gracefully.
But right now, she had to hold her own with the woman who was her mother, after all. She did soften her tone. “I’m sure that was a shock, that you worried about me, and that I disappointed you. Again. So, I’m sorry for all those things.”
“Did you really spend the night with Paul Covington?” There was an odd tone to her voice.
“I did. The judge isolated us thinking we might be forced to call a truce.”
“Did you?”
“It doesn’t matter. My boss probably won’t assign me his cases anyway.”
“I hope this isn’t a black mark on your name.” Bridget sighed. “I met him, you know?”
Hayley’s jaw dropped. “When?”
“At a gala two months ago. He’s very charming.”
She would have snorted if her mother wouldn’t have had a fit. “To others maybe. Though he did give me his jacket to stretch out on so I could sleep.”
“You look horrendous.”
“Hence the bath I was going to take.”
Again, Bridget raised her chin and watched her with an expression of distain. Hayley vowed never to do that to her kids. “Go clean up now, and I’ll answer some email on my phone. Then we can have lunch together.”
“No, we can’t. I’m drained. I need time to regroup.” She couldn’t face a lunch with her mother, which was always tense. “I’ll take a rain check.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
Hayley stood. “Neither was mine. Now, I insist you leave.”
“You are so much like your father it frightens me sometimes.”
The hell with being nice. “I’m glad to hear that.” Hayley walked to the foyer and opened the door. Her mother made her wait, then finally appeared.
“Goodbye, Hayley. I won’t contact you again. When you want to see me, call.”
Don’t hold your breath, Mommy Dearest.
“Understood. Goodbye.”
Though she’d put up a good front, Hayley closed the door and slid down the wood, unable to bear her mother’s wrath. Ronan used to intervene between them, but he was gone now. She put her head in her hands.
A NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has written dozens of self-published original romance titles, print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises and mainstream women’s fiction with Bold Strokes Books. She has won many awards for her work: five RT Book Reviews awards, the Bookseller’s Best Award, Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year and several “Starred Reviews.” One of her firefighter books hit #20 on the NEW YORK TIMES list. Her novels have been serialized in COSMOPOLITAN magazine and featured in USA TODAY, THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and PEOPLE magazine. There are over ten million copies of her books in print and downloaded online. Reviewers have called her work “emotional and heart-wrenching.”
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The Right to Remain Silent

The Right to Remain Silent
Crescent City Kings Book 3
by Anya Summers
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
He never expects to find her there…
Officer Quinten Blackthorne is working undercover to bring the Rudnikov Mob Empire to its knees. He never expects to find his best friend’s baby sister, Becca, in the center of a powder keg situation at the infamous mobster’s home. With her life on the line, he does the only thing he can think of to save her – he pretends that she’s his fiancée, who knows nothing of his clandestine activities with the criminal enterprise, and stands as her stalwart protector.
Forced into marriage…
But Quinten never expects the mob boss to force them into marriage at gunpoint as a test of loyalty. Not to mention, the idea of her belonging to him isn’t unappealing, nor is he as averse to the prospect as he lets on. Becca, with her sweet curves and take no prisoners attitude, fascinates him, stirs him, and leaves him craving her submission. Yet his past is fraught with broken dreams and death, so he uses his friendship with her brother as a shield against his yearning to claim her as his own.
Resistance is futile…
However, circumstances soon compel Becca and Quinten to become the most unlikely allies in a deadly game of deception. Now they must depend on one another for survival. As they race to unlock the keys to breaking the case, will Quinten be able to maintain his hands-off policy with Becca? Or will he surrender to the earth-shattering passion and turn their marriage of convenience into the real deal?
Publisher’s Note: This steamy friends to lovers romance contains elements of power exchange. While it’s the third in the Crescent City Kings series, it can be enjoyed independently.
Lone Survivor
Crescent City Kings Book 1
Far Reaching Consequences
Crescent City Kings Book 2
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
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Torn by Cole Lepley

#TeaserTuesday #PreOrder
Torn (Cherry Grove Series) by ➜ Cole Lepley is #ComingSoon releasing 6.30

Coach said no distractions this season
No drinking
No Girls
I’ve already broken one rule– and I’m working on the second

My therapist said no dating this year
No relationships
No sex
I’m getting better at following the rules– but the new quarterback is making it so hard to be good.

#AlsoAvailable #KindleUnlimited
Tragic ➜
Tamed ➜

#tornteasertuesday #torncolelepley #cherrygroveseries #colelepleyauthor #teasertuesday #author #novels #ku #amazon #junerelease

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Parker by Giulia Lagomarsino

Title: Parker
Series: Reed Security Series #25
Author: Giulia Lagomarsino
Genre: Security Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 3, 2020
I’ve been disgraced. I have nothing left to my name after being dishonorably discharged from the military. But I was falsely accused. It doesn’t matter though. It would take a Presidential pardon for me to get my life back, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon. But then Knight walked into my life and offered me a chance at redemption. I don’t want to believe that it could be true, but I’m ready to go along for the ride and see what happens. That’s how I met her. She threw me through a window, but that won’t stop me from seeing her again.
You know that phrase ‘I’ve gotten myself into a pickle’? Well, this is a huge pickle. I thought I knew what I was doing when I ran, but this is so much more involved than I ever imagined. I didn’t think someone else would show up at the senator’s house where I was digging up information. I also didn’t expect him to be so hot or to follow me. And I really didn’t expect him to attack me. But I know how to defend myself, so I’m not too worried about it. Now I just have to stay hidden until I can figure out what’s going on. But nothing in my life seems to be going as planned lately. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when he shows up yet again.
“Ask me what?” she asked, turning to look at me for a moment.
“You said that you should ask me.”
My brows crinkled in confusion. Did I really say that out loud?
Huh. Must be the blood loss.
“Well, I’m sure that has something to do with it. So, what did you want to ask me?”
“Are you military?”
“No, but maybe that would have been the better way to go.”
I blinked slowly at her, trying to focus on what she was saying. “What way did you go?”
She grinned at me. “FBI.”
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned. I was so going to jail. I should have listened to my gut instincts and stayed the fuck away from Knight. I knew he would only get me in trouble, but his offer was so fucking tempting. I could imagine myself carrying a gun again and not getting in trouble for it. I could see myself getting a job and not worrying that they were judging me based on my service record, even though they weren’t supposed to. It all sounded so fucking good, but I should have fucking known.
“I take it that means that you really can’t afford to be caught breaking and entering.”
“You broke and entered first,” I shot back.
She nodded. “Yeah, I did, but I’m not FBI anymore.”
“Why?” I asked, a little dumbfounded as to why someone would leave a job like that. It wasn’t like you could just walk off the street and become an FBI agent. In fact, all of those agencies weren’t a cakewalk. You had to prove that you had something special to get in there.
“I was fired as of three days ago.”
“For what?”
“I dug into something I wasn’t supposed to. Well, at the time I hadn’t done much digging at all, but my boss was an ass and he knew I wouldn’t let it go. So, he told me to hand in my badge and gun.”
I grunted, huffing out a harsh breath that fucking hurt like hell. “Well, at least it makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why you were a good sparring partner,” I mumbled.
“Sparring partner? I kicked your ass.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Who is sitting in the passenger seat with a piece of glass sticking out of him?”
I rolled my eyes, pissed that she had me there. “Me.”
“That’s right. I kicked your ass.”
“You shoved me in a glass through a window,” I slurred. “If I did that glass to you, the window wouldn’t be looking too good now either.”
“That didn’t make any sense.”
I shrugged. “Whatever.”
Sinner (Reed Security Series #1) Cap (Reed Security Series #2) Cazzo (Reed Security Series #3) Knight (Reed Security Series #4) Irish (Reed Security Series #5) Hunter (Reed Security Series #6) Whiskey (Reed Security Series #7) Lola (Reed Security Series #8) Ice (Reed Security Series #9) Burg (Reed Security Series #10) Gabe (Reed Security Series #11) Jules (Reed Security Series #12) Sniper (Reed Security Series – Book 1 of a 3 Book ARC) Jackson (Reed Security Series – Book 2 of a 3 Book ARC) Chance (Reed Security Series – Book 3 of a 3 Book ARC) Phoenix Rising (Reed Security Series #16) Alec (Reed Security Series #17) Storm (Reed Security Series #18) Wolf (Reed Security Series #19) A Mad Reed Security Christmas (Reed Security Series #20) Rocco (Reed Security Series #21) Coop (Reed Security Series #22) TNT (Reed Security Series #23) Nightingale (Reed Security Series #24)
I’m a stay at home mom that loves to read. Some of my favorite titles are Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Horatio Hornblower. I started writing when I was trying to come up with suggestions on ways I could help bring in some extra money. I came up with the idea that I could donate plasma because you could earn an extra $500/month. My husband responded with, “No. Find something else. Write a blog. Write a book.” I didn’t think I had anything to share on blog that a thousand other mothers hadn’t already thought of. I decided to take his challenge seriously and sat down to write my first book, Jack. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed writing. From there, the stories continued to flow and I haven’t been able to stop. I hope my readers enjoy my books as much as I enjoy writing them. Between reading, writing, and taking care of three small kids, my days are quite full.
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A Huge Thank you to the Awesome Leah Holt for another Beautiful Cover!

Justice’s Kiss

Life is a gamble Nikki isn’t willing to take. Over the years, Zach has gone from being the boy next door to the only man to hold her heart. But life has made a habit of getting in their way. And the Zach standing before her now with his heart in his hands and love in his eyes doesn’t know her pain. How justice has failed her.

The odds are stacked against him, but Nikki is the only woman Zach has ever loved. When fate puts her back in his life, he’ll challenge the devil himself to keep her. But Zach doesn’t really know the stakes. He doesn’t know what life has already dealt her, and how she survived.

Nikki’s past and future are about to collide in a deadly game of chance. There’s a joker in the deck with his sights set on the one that got away. When Nikki goes missing, Zach will have to use every bit of his training to bring home the woman he loves.

Bets are placed, the die is cast, and bodies will fall where they may. This time justice is out for retribution. 

Coming July 28
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Unveiled by Jackllyn Daher

<div class="container"> <div class="row"> <div class="col-md-12 col-xs-12 col-sm-12"> <p class=""><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-419 aligncenter" src="×300.jpg&quot; alt="" width="200" height="300"></p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">#TeaserBlast</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Literary Designs is pleased to present Unveiled by Jacklyn Daher. Do you dare walk into her paranormal world?&nbsp;</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">One-Click Today&gt;&gt;</p&gt; <p class="">&nbsp;</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="italic">What if your entire life was a lie?</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Sixteen-year-old Luxor Everstone had the idyllic life-wealthy, popular and beautiful. Until in a fit of rage, she almost killed her best friend. And herself.</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Waking up from a coma she senses everything is different. She is different. A darkness lingers deep inside laced with rage, further fuelled by a faceless man who haunts her.</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Exiled to a sleepy town for a new start and to attend a juvenile rehabilitation centre, all she wants is a clean slate. Except the universe has other plans as crimson eyed people reeking of sulphur throw her life into peril at every turn.</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Encountering Hunter is a surprise in more ways than one. Enigmatic and antagonistic, against her will a strong electric connection draws her to him. But Hunter’s curious nature and innate ability to know Luxor’s thoughts keep her on edge, so does his offer of helping her uncover the lies.</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Torn between attraction and her instincts to flee, will she put herself at risk for answers?</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Or will the truth heal, or taint her soul?</p> <p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Facebook author group:&nbsp;<a href=""> er/</a></p> <p class="" style="text-align: center;" data-font-family="Merriweather" data-font-weight="400" data- font-style="">Facebook reader group:&nbsp;<u><a href=""> 4140394601383/</a></u></p> </div> </div> </div>
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Adeleine by Susan Horsnell

Flint Gray had watched his brother fall in love with his mail-order bride and decided it was time he settled down and made a future for himself. With this thought in mind, he placed an advertisement for a bride of his own.

Adeleine Brown had suffered a great deal of tragedy in her young life, all she’d ever wanted was to be happy. When she is given an ultimatum regarding her future, she answers Flint’s advertisement for a bride.

While Flint wants a wife to share his life and bear his children, Adeleine has ulterior motives.
How will Flint react when he is finally told about the secret she has been keeping?

Will it tear the young couple apart?


𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐔𝐒 –
𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐔𝐊 –
𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐔 –
𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐀 –


Chapter One

Yarrafield, Texas
August 1891


“I watched as my older brother Jesse recited his vows to Georgina. She had answered his advertisement for a mail-order bride a few months earlier. After corresponding for a couple of weeks, she had made the journey from Aubern, five hours from our town of Yarrafield, to meet us.

It had been a somewhat interesting time. Following the death of his wife, Amanda, who had succumbed to influenza during an epidemic, Jesse had been convinced by our family and Amanda’s parents – Richard and Diane, that it was time for him to move on with his life. They insisted Amanda would not want him to be unhappy.
By finding a wife for himself, Jesse would also acquire a mother for his son. A nine-month-old boy called Cassidy who he had kept hidden from Georgina. Our parents had led my brother to believe, no woman would be interested in marrying a man with a young child.

The decision was made to keep Cassidy’s existence a secret until Georgina could get to know Jesse for the good man he was. The hope was once she did, the child would be accepted by her into their lives. My brother was not happy about being deceptive, but conceded our parents were most likely right in what they believed.

An interesting twist to the entire situation was when we had found out from Georgina’s brother Blake, who had accompanied her to our ranch, that she had a daughter – Sophie. A child she was also keeping a secret. Her husband, Mark, had also been a victim of the devastating influenza outbreak and like Jesse, her family, along with Mark’s parents – Emma and Jonas, had also urged her to move on.

I had noticed the attraction between the two from the first day they had met and there was no doubt in my mind that they were both well on their way to falling in love, no matter how much they fought it.
The minister pronounced them man and wife, they kissed deeply before turning to face the congregation. Almost everyone from town was present in the church, the ceremony had been held following the weekly sermon, and Georgina’s family had traveled from Aubern to celebrate with us. I enjoyed the company of her brothers – Blake and Simon and looked forward to spending more time with the pair.

Minister Brian presented Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Gray and everyone gave a gentle clap. Being in a house of worship, I resisted the urge to whistle and holler. 

The newly hitched couple made their way from the church; the rest of us followed and stood chatting out front while pictures were taken.

Jesse and Georgina stood on the church steps, their arms around each other while Jesse held his son, Cassidy and Georgina held Sophie. The photographer snapped of the pictures of the smiling family. I felt a pang of jealousy. At twenty-four years old, three years younger than Jesse, I was already becoming impatient with life as a single man.

“Flint, will you drive Jesse and his family home when they’re done?” Pa asked from behind me.

“Yes. Are you leaving now?”

Pa nodded. “Your ma and Doris want to finish the last minute preparations. Both our family and Georgina’s will follow us out to the ranch.”

“As soon as the pictures are done, we’ll be on our way.”

“Thanks, Son.” Pa escorted ma to their wagon and lifted her onto the seat.

Other people were beginning to drift off; they had all been invited to our ranch for the wedding feast to celebrate the couple’s happy union.

I waited patiently while Jesse and Georgina thanked the photographer and said goodbye to people who were unable to join us at the ranch. Once they were done, they headed toward me.
“Are you done?” I asked.

Sophie held out her hands, Georgina held the little girl out and I scooped her into my arms. 

“Unca Fwint, will you dance wif me at mama’s party?”

I chucked her under the chin. The beautiful child had been with us for less than twenty-four hours and had already wormed her way into my heart.  
I stared at her in mock seriousness. “Only if you promise not to step on my toes.”

She giggled and rested her hand against my face. “I pwomis.”

I carried her toward the carriage, waited for the newlyweds to climb in with Cassidy and handed Sophie to them.

After securing the door, I climbed up on the seat, gathered the reins and headed toward the ranch.

I live in sunny Queensland, Australia and retired after 37 years of Nursing.
My husband of 45 years, together with our elderly Jack Russell Terrier and extremely opinionated 26-year-old Cockatiel, enjoy holidays and travelling.
When we are at home, which is a small rural village, we spend our time renovating our home.
I write a variety of stories including Western Historical Romance, Contemporary Romance, Male/Male, Ménage and Shapeshifter.
Each book has a strong focus on story line with romantic interest building throughout.
I explore real life issues from kids on the streets to motorcycle war and put my own twist on each one.


𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩