Tuesday Teaser

Tristan by LeAnn Ashers

TRISTAN by USA Today Bestselling Author LeAnn Ashers
is releasing December 7th! 

Pre-order available now on all platforms!
Amazon: https://bit.ly/TristanAmazon
Apple: https://bit.ly/TristanAPPLE
BN: https://bit.ly/TristanNOOK
Kobo: https://bit.ly/TristanKOBO

TRISTAN by USA Today Bestselling Author LeAnn Ashers
Series: Grim Sinners MC, Book 6
Release Date: December 7, 2021
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Trope: MC Romance
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/TristanGOODREADS
BookBub: https://bit.ly/TristanBOOKBUB

I spent the last ten years of my life as a SEAL fighting for my country. Coming home to my MC was everything I imagined. That is, except for her.

I never dreamed I’d meet the woman that would end up owning my heart. Lynn and her little girl, Michaela, quickly became my entire world.

But Lynn’s past resurfaced and they’re practically begging me to rip them into pieces.

Someone tried to kidnap Michaela, but they didn’t expect me to be there. And now? They’re coming after Lynn.

The sinner in me is seething, and it’s my time to make them pay.

Pre-order available now on all platforms!
Amazon: https://bit.ly/TristanAmazon
Apple: https://bit.ly/TristanAPPLE
BN: https://bit.ly/TristanNOOK
Kobo: https://bit.ly/TristanKOBO

SERIES: GRIM SINNERS MC
(Standalone Novels)

LANE – book 1
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2WXmW5U
Apple: http://apple.co/2AQFaL1
BN: http://bit.ly/2AJnD6A
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2juV9dy

WILDER – book 2
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2uOtyH8
Apple: https://apple.co/2GR16Ya
BN: http://bit.ly/2GOxNG1
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2GSTS6k

TRAVIS – book 3
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3k8D3uT
Apple: https://apple.co/2UbCkO4
BN: http://bit.ly/2FNt1ek
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2uMAnsx

AIDEN – book 4
Amazon: https://amzn.to/31bOvto
Apple: https://apple.co/2OGTnFp
BN: http://bit.ly/33d5VaL
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2KAgkVo

DEREK – book 5 
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Xe5Bbp
Apple: https://apple.co/2UvmOKj
BN: https://bit.ly/3apvvg9
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2wyA8Wd

MEET THE AUTHOR

LeAnn Ashers is a blogger-turned-author who spends her days reading and writing. She released her debut novel early 2016, and can’t wait to see where this adventure continues to take her. LeAnn enjoys writing about strong-minded females and swoon-worthy, protective alpha males who love their women unconditionally.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3DmuZxN
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leann_ashers/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14733196.LeAnn_Ashers
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LeAnnashers/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LeannAshers
Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/112075286167518/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/leann-ashers

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Book Blitz

Tor by Jennie Lynn Roberts 

Tor
Jennie Lynn Roberts
(The Hawks, #4)
Publication date: November 23rd 2021
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

What is it about her that makes him lose his mind? Every. Damn. Time.

Tor’s world is falling apart. The king he’d sworn to guard? Dead. The family he worked so hard for? They certainly wasted no time disowning him. All he has left is the Hawks… and an intense desire to win Keely’s heart. It won’t be easy—especially after the mistake he made—but he has to try, because the alternative, living without her, is unthinkable.

Losing someone you love leads to nothing but pain; Keely learned that the hard way. But there is something about Tor that makes her wonder if loving him is worth the risk… if only he felt the same way. Now her best option is to create a new future on her own—no matter how much she might wish her relationship with Tor could be different.

But all is not well in Brythoria. The treaty still isn’t ratified, and the mountain border is filled with enemies poised to destroy them. Can Tor and Keely find their way back to each other? Or will their second chance at happily ever after burn in the fires of impending war?

Tor, book 4 in The Hawks series, is a sexy, steamy, adult fantasy romance full of swords, shifters (kind of), and tons of action. But fair warning: This book is intended only for readers who love fast-paced adventure, soul mates and found family—and characters who curse when they fight for survival. If that’s you, happy reading.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

First, Keely had to get rid of her breeches so she could sit down without destroying the chair with muddy water. Then they could focus on her jerkin and the arrow.

“I need you to pull my breeches down,” she prompted. “I can’t do it with one hand. The leather is soaked, and they were already too tight. They’re Alanna’s.”

Tor glanced down at her breeches and then immediately looked away and took a small step back. Damn. He really was honorable. Keely lifted a heavy woolen blanket off the bed and wrapped it over her shoulders to hang down to her knees. She never asked for help. Not unless there was absolutely no other choice, and right now there was no other choice. “I need your help, Tor. I don’t ask often, so make the most of it.”

“Are you sure I’m the best person?” he asked slowly.

No. She was not at all sure. The last man she’d been even partially naked in front of was Niall. And that was ten years ago. But she was too exhausted and too cold to stay as she was, and her shoulder was on fire, her fingers tingling with waves of burning pins and needles. She couldn’t do it alone. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He nodded, once, and then knelt in front of her and helped her out of her boots. She balanced herself on his shoulder with her good hand, and he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her breeches and tugged.

It was hard work, the tight, wet leather clinging to her cold skin, and she had to shimmy her body to help him pull the breeches down. They stuck, and he grunted as he shifted his thumbs and tried again.

Bard. She wasn’t at all sleepy now. Even with the relentless ache in her shoulder, she was acutely aware of his big hands, the heat of his fingers where they ran down her legs, how close he was to her body.

The breeches suddenly came away, and she stepped out of them, one foot at a time. He stood and lifted the sodden leather away to dry beside the fire, returning as she sank into the comfortable armchair.

“What about your jerkin?” he asked slowly.

There was only one solution. “Cut it off.”

Tor watched her for a moment but then nodded. “Okay.” He pulled out a lethal-looking dagger and began slicing through the laces while she held the blanket swathed around her body and over her chest.

It was a strange kind of dance. Trying to hold the blanket out of the way but at the same time cover herself. All while keeping her injured shoulder still. She was deeply, intensely aware of the closeness between them. Of how big he was, and yet how carefully—tenderly almost—he was helping her.

If he hadn’t been so close, she might have thought he was unaffected. His face was stoic, completely shuttered, and he hadn’t said a word since he’d taken out his knife. But she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Could feel the way his breath picked up. And she knew that he was as aware of her as she was of him.


Author Bio:

Jennie Lynn Roberts believes that every strong, kickass heroine should have control of her own story, a swoony hero to support her at every turn, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Because that doesn’t always happen in real life, she began creating her own worlds that work just the way they should. And she hasn’t looked back since.

Jennie would rather be writing than doing anything else—except for spending time with her gorgeous family, of course. But when she isn’t building vibrant new worlds, she can be found nattering with friends, baking up a storm, or strolling in the woods around her home in England.

If you want to talk books, romance, movies, reluctant heroes, or just about anything else with Jennie, feel free to contact her atwww.jennielynnroberts.com. But be prepared to settle in for a long chat if you bring up shifters, vampires, Star Wars, or The Princess Bride….

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Pinterest


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Midlife Witch Unexpected by Melle Amade

Midlife Witch Unexpected
Melle Amade
(Cougar Creek Coven, #1)
Publication date: November 23rd 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Women’s Fiction

Middle-aged and starting over is the last thing I ever wanted on my bucket list. But since my husband announced he was gay and my daughter left for college, I don’t really have a choice.

If I’m going to get my “Happily Ever After” I have to start making new choices, starting with picking guys who like women rather than women’s makeup would be a good start.

Next!

I’m way past the point of caring what other people think. I’m 49, about to turn 50 and I’m pretty sure I’m entering the prime years of my life. It’s time to make my mark and do things the way I want to do them.

Like move.

I am sooooooo leaving the city that has sucked me dry with the commute and the executive position. There’s no way I’m doing that anymore. I have enough money from the divorce to buy a house, almost any house, outside of California. I take one suitcase and my jeep, and I leave town, not stopping until I get to Cougar Creek, which is so small I think it’s barely a town, but I’m all about it. This is where I will get my fresh start.

I inherited my Aunt’s home here years ago and never even visited, but the renters just moved out and I might as well make it my home.

For now.

But Cougar Creek has a lot more in store for me than I ever imagined. There is a load of eligible young men from the local ranches, a couple of new BFFs in similar situations, and a strange invitation to a local secret society who think I’m the new high priestess of their local coven. I didn’t stop laughing until I realized they wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. They have a massive problem in the cemetery and they expect me to solve it.

But I didn’t trade in one life of rules for another one, so if they want me to be high priestess, they’re going to have to accept that I make the rules.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“That’s her?” A deep voice came from the front door.

“See anyone else around here, Branson?” Bianca swiveled away from me and spoke to the golden man who stood by the front door.

His laughter reverberated from his throat and all the way to my thighs. My eyes opened wide as I looked him over. Thankfully he was staring down at his phone, his golden eyes almost hidden by his blond locks falling forward over his tan skin. He wore a plaid red, white, and blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was broad, lean, and muscular, and way too young for me.

“Who the heck is that?” I asked.

“Your caretaker,” Bianca raised an eyebrow at me.

“My caretaker?” I asked.

“The caretaker of The Estate,” Bianca explained it slowly as if she was talking to an ignoramus, which at the moment I actually felt like.

“The Estate,” I repeated like a parrot. Then suddenly snapped out of it. “Aunt Emma’s estate! Okay! Got it.”

“Round here we all just call it The Estate,” Bianca said with a shrug.

“And that’s the caretaker?” I whispered to Bianca, my voice catching in my throat.

“Every last inch of him,” she nodded, stealing a covert glance at the tall, broad man who dwarfed the front office space of the Cougar Creek cop shop.

“Lord have mercy,” I said under my breath.

Branson went straight to the sign-in sheet as if this wasn’t his first time here. But his handsome features scowled as he looked over at me. I stared back as he stepped across the sheriff’s office to tower above me, his arms folded over his chest.

“Well, that’s not intimidating at all.” I craned my neck to look up at him.

He started as if he hadn’t been aware of himself, took a step back, and unfolded his arms. “You’re Mae.” He stated the obvious. “I’m here to drive you home.”

“That’s a long way to drive.” My mind suddenly thought of a long leisurely drive back to L.A. with my caretaker, Branson.

“Pardon?” Branson looked at me a bit confused.

“Never mind.” I stood up turning to Bianca. “Do you need anything else from me tonight? It’s late and I’m exhausted. You are remanding me into Branson’s custody?”

“My custody? I’m just giving you a ride home.” Branson held up his hands in protest.

“Sheriff said you’re to verify who she is, take her home, and bring her back tomorrow to get her jeep,” Bianca confirmed for Branson.

I covertly looked him over thinking I wouldn’t mind being in his very good hands. But instantly my heart squeezed. Men weren’t safe; not at all. As I poured back through the years of lies, I realized there was probably not one single moment of truth in my relationship with my ex-gay husband. How was I ever going to trust any man ever again? Clearly, I was an idiot; a vulnerable, gullible idiot who believed anything anybody said to me.

“Are you sure he’s safe to take me to my house?” I asked Bianca.

“I have a police tracker on,” Branson wiggled his leg.

“Seriously?” I took a step back.

Bianca and Branson burst out laughing. “No not seriously,” Bianca said. “There’s only one person around here on the radar.”

“And it’s not me.” Branson pointed out. “Now come on. I’ve got a poker game waiting for me. Let me get you home and all tucked in.”

I looked over my shoulder at Bianca and we both did a slight giggle at his words, clearly thinking the same thing about being tucked in. It was a relief to feel an instant bond to this other middle-aged divorced woman, even though she’d never left this town. I guess that was nothing to hold against someone.

I shook my head as I trailed behind Branson to the door.

I wasn’t here to make friends. I wasn’t here to have romance. I was here to get some space, clear my head, and more than likely sell a house. My divorce was almost through and then I could start my new life.

Branson held the door open for me. “I’ll take you home, boss, and have you delivered to your jeep in the morning.”

My stomach sank. That’s right. He was my employee.

Well, of the estate, but as I was the sole owner of the estate, he was still my employee.

And a “no fraternizing with the staff” rule went without saying. There was no way to even have a little fling with Mr. Rock Solid Biceps.

He was way off-limits.

Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author. Farm Girl. Marketing Director.

Since I was eight, I have been writing stories that capture the adventures in my head and the characters strong enough and flawed enough to have them. When I look at an empty field, I see a formidable citadel. When I meet a vulnerable old man, I greet an emeritus warrior. When I walk through city streets, I feel dimensions hiding around every turn. It has been my lifelong passion to explore these worlds that reveal the pain of loneliness, the joy or self-actualization, and the hope of magic.

I grew up in a place called Potter Valley where the Milky Way is held aloft by a circle of mountains and the central business district consists of a bait store and a saloon. At 19 I moved alone to London and spent the next ten years exploring the world, even becoming an Australian citizen, before I returned to California and found a new home in Los Angeles. My world revolves around my two wee children, storytelling, and my love of travel.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub


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Book Tour

Jared

Jared

The Hunter Book 2.5

by R. Sullins

Genre: Paranormal Romance

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.
I enjoyed being in the Army Special Forces and was damn good at it.
Now, I was living the life that my brother had dreamed of- the life that killed him.

Becoming a vampire changed nothing, and yet it changed everything.
I was still a soldier, but now I worked for the local vampire king instead of my country.
And I was finally ready to claim my mate.

I just needed to battle her demons.
That is if my own demons didn’t end up destroying both of us first.

Goodreads * Amazon

Hunter’s Promise

The Hunter Book 2

Ivy Moore defined herself as a woman who was responsible for taking care of her sister. She spent years paying for an accident that was never her fault. Until the night she was attacked by monsters and was rescued by the powerful vampire king, Crispin Decius. Through his help, she discovered that she was strong, deadly, a Hunter.

Now she is facing something far worse than just the monsters that she was born to destroy. The insane vampire, the one that was building an army of monsters fed on Hunter’s blood, is in hiding, but she isn’t through tormenting Ivy. She does the unthinkable in the name of vengeance, and the Hunter will face a challenge that has the potential to break her.

Ivy’s life has changed drastically since knowing that vampires exist, but there was no way to prepare for how many more changes were to come.

Approximately 73k words

This is book to in the Hunter Series. This NOT a standalone. Book one is Hunter’s Blood

*warning* this book contains graphic violence and sexual scenes that are not appropriate for readers under 18. Please read responsibly.

Goodreads * Amazon

Hunter’s Blood

The Hunter Book 1

My name is Ivy Moore.
This morning I woke up a 21-year-old overworked waitress, sister, and not much else.
6 years ago I watched my mother walk away while I was trapped in the mangled car that held my crippled twin sister and the body of my dead father.
My hatred for her ran deep into my bones.
It wasn’t until I was attacked by monsters that were attracted to my blood that I began to understand.
With the help of the local arrogant vampire lord, I learned all about my heritage, about vampires and revenants, about what it was like to live again. About learning to love.
While Crispin spent his nights training me to be a deadly killer, someone else was creating an army.
I was a Hunter.
And someone wanted me for my blood.

Approximately 73k words

Important Note: This is the first book in a series, please be aware that it ends in an HFN but the second book picks right up where the first left off.

Warning: This book has blood and gore that may offend or disturb sensitive readers. Due to sexual content, this book is not intended for anyone below 18

Early review
“holy &%$# am I ever hooked. Like on the edge of my seat waiting to find out what happens next…” -JW

**On Sale for Only .99cents!!**

Goodreads * Amazon

Hi!

I guess you can say I have a passion for romance.

You will most often find me with a book in front of my face, whether I’m in the middle of writing one or taking a break by reading one of my favorite authors.

I love my family and my pets. I need quiet time to recharge and I’d rather be deep in the middle of woods than in the middle of a city. Yeah, I don’t people well.

I hope you enjoy my stories. I put all my heart into each of them and they are truly my book babies.

Thanks for stopping by!

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Release Blitz

Singapore Unveiled

 

A Coral Cove Novel

YA Mystery

Date Published: November 23, 2021

Publisher: Fire and Ice Young Adult Books



Can the secretive mah-jongg tiles help solve the mystery of a missing girl?

When Brooke Bentley’s father is transferred to Singapore for a year and he drags their family along, she’s more than mad. But what choice do you have when you’re only seventeen? So obviously it seems more than unfair after months of chaos involving the Cammies, the infamous members of the most exclusive club at Marlborough Academy, that Brooke is now being held responsible for the disappearance of a girl she barely knows.


More from author Laura Kennedy


Suddenly Singapore

I should have known the night we landed at Singapore’s Changi Airport things would turn out badly.

That something was already steeping in the thick, black Malaysian air like a tea ball of Darjeeling in a teapot.

A something that would totally change my life forever.

Torn from her old existence in Florida, seventeen-year-old Brooke Bentley is forced to find new friends against a backdrop of intrigue, violence and revenge.

Amazon



Excerpt

Prologue

The ancient game of mah-jongg is sort of like life, each ivory tile a clue, a direction to take, a season of the year or even danger ahead. I realize now I should have paid more attention during the months I was in Singapore. I should have sensed something ominous from those exotic designs warning me about Summer and her little sister Plum. But being me, I had to find out the hard way.

I can always blame what happened on my parents for dragging me to Malaysia. I mean, how many other seventeen-year-olds in the universe are forced to give up their entire lives to move halfway around the world?

I remember the whispers around Coral Cove High before I left Florida. There’s Brooke Bentley. Her father got transferred to Asia and she has to go, too. God! And it’s her senior year!

It was obvious they felt sorry for me. I felt sorry for me. I mean, the whole thing sucked. And even though deep down I was still totally mad, I guess I adjusted pretty fast. New school, new friends, new stuff to do. But it wasn’t long before the illusion of tranquility in the safest city in the world was shattered. How you wonder? Well, it all happened like this.


Chapter One

It was near the end of January and my mother had just dropped my brother Benji and me off at Marlborough Academy, our stuffy, terribly respectable private school. Thoughts of my new boyfriend Raffie were skipping through my mind when I noticed the sad state of Benji’s necktie.

Here. Let me straighten your tie or you’ll get a demerit.”

He groaned. “I don’t know why they make us wear these stupid uniforms.”

Because Marlborough is terribly British and into Stamford Raffles and all of that. So, you’re just going to have to live with it. Stiff upper lip. Think of it this way, when you turn fifteen, you’ll be allowed to wear long pants.”

By fall term we’ll be back in Florida and I can wear jeans to school again.”

If Dad’s through with the hotel project.”

Well, if he isn’t, I’m going home to live with Grandma Donnie.”

Home. Just hearing it sounded weird. Coral Cove, Florida and my old boyfriend Tyler. Sudsy and Tamara and my other BFFs. The longer I was in Singapore, the hazier they all became.

I have to let all of that go, I reminded myself. Live in the now, the thought of which brought me back to my new hot boyfriend, Raffie Desai. Would he send me a valentine? Doubtful since he’d never even said anything remotely romantic. Besides, did they even have Valentine’s Day in Asia? And if they did, Raffie was maddeningly unemotional and wouldn’t send one. Maybe it had something to do with being Hindu.

I was barely through Marlborough’s massive front door when my best guy friend, Mu, spotted me. With gelled, spiked hair and turned up collar, he made Marlborough’s gross general issue uniform look almost cool.

Hey, Brooke, Queenie’s been looking for you.”

She has?”

He nodded. “Says she has something terribly crucial to tell you. But then, you know what a drama queen she is.”

Thanks. Well, I’m sure she’ll tell all when she sees me.”

My main BFF, Quoi, aka Queenie, was waiting for me outside of Mrs. Harris’ classroom. Still managing to look very Teen Vogue in her plaid skirt, white blouse, blue blazer and perfect make-up, it was obvious she was upset. “Brooke, I’ve got to talk to you.”

What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Not really.” Nervously, she ran her hand through her long, dark hair. “My father had another death threat yesterday.” It came out as one big sob.

Ohmigod! So, did he call the police?”

She nodded. “They told him not to worry and that they’ll step up surveillance around our house.”

I gave her a hug. “Don’t worry, Queenie. I’m sure this kind of stuff always happens to important people in government.”

I guess. Obviously, my parents are really freaked. They even hired a bodyguard for me.”

You’re kidding.”

She nodded to other side of the hallway. “See that muscular looking dude leaning against the wall? His name is Li Yong. He shadows me wherever I go.”

He looks pretty tough. Is he going to classes, too?”

No, we asked, but the principal won’t let him, so he’ll have to wait outside my classrooms.”

I gave Queenie a reassuring smile. “Well, it’s a good idea to be on the safe side. At least until the election is over.”

But on the inside, I didn’t feel so confident. Maybe someone was really trying to hurt Queenie and her family. Politicians always had someone mad at them. Reeling from my frightening thoughts, I grabbed my notebook and two texts and slammed my locker door. “So are we on for the Cammies Thursday?” I asked, changing the subject.

I guess, but somehow Club seems pretty meaningless right now.”

Oh, come on, Q. It will be good for you to have some fun.”

I don’t know about the word fun. Besides, we have a crisis.”

What now?”

Mei Lien is moving. The rumor is she was caught shoplifting again and her parents have to get her out of Singapore or they’ll lock her up.”

God. Well, it was bound to get real now she turned eighteen. It’s too bad, but she knew how strict Singapore is about that kind of stuff.”

And…” Queenie stopped to take a breath… “Kalavani is transferring to art school.”

No! Now who will do invitations?” There was a moment of silence while this revelation sank in. “Not that that’s the only reason I’ll miss her, of course.”

So,” Queenie continued, “that means we have to find two new girls to keep the magic number at seven. As if with all of this other stuff going on I even care.”

Oh, Queenie.” I gave her a hug. “Obviously, Club pales in comparison to your safety, but you have to move on with your life. Remember the motto of the British in World War II? Stay calm and carry on. Isn’t that what Miss Harris told us in British History?”

Queenie blinked back a tear. “You’re right, Brooke. You are so maddeningly logical sometimes.” She paused to reboot. “Okay, I know of two possibilities. Summer Chaing and her little sister, Plum. They just transferred from Nanyang Girls School. Summer’s a senior like us and Plum’s a freshman.”

Freshman? Isn’t she sort of young?”

Yes. But Summer is perfect and her mother won’t let her join unless Plum gets in, too. Besides, I recently realized something earth shattering.”

And what could that possibly be?”

If we don’t take in younger girls, the Chameleons will be extinct when we graduate. Just like the dinosaurs.”

I laughed, happy for an excuse to. “Hmm, I never thought of it. Somehow I assumed we were immortal.” We continued down the crowded hallway, me considering my newly discovered mortality. “So when do I get to meet our next victims?” The minute I said it, I wished I’d used another noun.

You can meet Summer now, because it just so happens, she’s assigned to our homeroom.”

The warning bell rang and Queenie and I slipped through the door milliseconds before Miss Harris closed it. Like homing pigeons, we fluttered to the back of the classroom where we slid into our seats.

There sat Summer. Pretty as a China doll, her almond eyes, tiny nose and rosebud lips looking as though they’d been painted on her face. Dressed in Marlborough white blouse, plaid skirt and saddle shoes, she sat with her hands folded, the epitome of serenity.

Lounging at my old desk, Audrianna looked up. “Hi, Brooke. Just stole your place a sec so I can keep Summer company. Oh, Brooke, this is Summer. Summer, Brooke, the girl from the U.S. I was telling you about. Brooke and I are practically the only blondes in the school.”

Getting up, she returned to her seat, reassuringly patting Queenie’s hand on the way. Obviously, Queenie had filled her in on the death threat, too.

Summer looked at me and smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Brooke. It’s always fun to meet an American. They’re so refreshing.”

I laughed. “Well, I hope I live up to the image. I hear you went to Nanyang Girls School.”

She nodded. “All through secondary, but my mother wanted my little sister Plum to attend someplace more suitable for her emotional needs. That’s why we’re here.”

Emotional needs? A laundry list of possibilities skipped across my mind.

Welcome back students.” Miss Harris’ warm British voice cut through my thoughts. “And a special welcome to those attending Marlborough for the first time. I’d like to extend a special welcome to Ruomei.” All heads turned toward Summer, who returned the attention with a Mona Lisa smile. “And now, I shall commence with roll call.” Miss Harris droned on until the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom.

In the hallway, Queenie, Audrianna, Summer and I convened for a quick huddle. Audrianna nodded toward Queenie’s bodyguard lounging against the wall. “I assume you know about Bruce Lee over there,” she began, turning to me.

Yes, and I think it’s a great idea. I mean, who wouldn’t feel safe with a guy like him following you around all day?”

Audrianna gave him a flirty once over. “Too bad he can’t come to classes. He’d be a delicious distraction, even if he is at least thirty.”

Smiling, I grabbed my book bags. “Got to run,” I said. Taking my cue, my Marlborough BFFs regrouped, then en masse, traipsed down the hallway, Li Yong trailing behind. “See you guys at lunch,” I called.

Summer turned to give a little wave. “Okay, lah.”

I waved back. So she and her sister Plum were at Marlborough because Plum needed something more suitable for her emotional needs. Whatever that meant. It was all too much. Shoplifting. Death threats. Bodyguards. So much for living in the now.


About the Author

Laura Kennedy has been writing for what seems forever. Selling her first romance story to a well-known national magazine at twenty-two, she went on to sell several more, rounding the total to two dozen. Other writing credits include five other books: See Mommy Run, a humorous self-published novel, plus Surf Shop Sisters, Double Take, and Suddenly Singapore, all YA’s featuring Brooke Bentley. The series also includes Affairs, Fibs and Felonies, the tale of Barbie Bentely, Brooke’s mother.

Note: Surf Shop Sisters was a finalist in the 2016 Royal PalrmLiterary Award Competition in Florida.


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A Highland Hogmanay

Title: A Highland Hogmanay

Series: Christmas Masquerade, Book Two

Author: Meg Mardell

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/23/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 37700

Genre: Historical holiday, LGBTQIA+, historical, Victorian England, holiday, Christmas, Scottish Highlands, lesbian, wlw, mistaken identity, humorous, family drama, interracial, intercultural, road trip, age gap

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Description

The daughter of an Indian raja and renegade Englishwoman, Sharda Holkar, was gifted with a magnificent dowry but little say in her future. Until now. She must endure one more depressing holiday season with her controlling cousins, then she will be free to begin her emancipated life. But her discovery of a plot to marry her off to the preening son of the house has Sharda wondering if her new start should begin at once. When Sharda meets the intriguing owner of a Highland castle at a Christmas Eve masquerade, she wastes no time in forming a plan—she will escape across the Scottish border! Finella Forbes cannot imagine why a sophisticated heiress like Sharda would even associate with someone who manages a castle for a living, let alone accompany her all the way back to the Highlands in time for the raucous celebration of Hogmanay. But a wealthy buyer is just what Balintore Castle needs. Fin is determined to prove she is just as good an estate manager as her father, but with the negligent lordly owner refusing to do his duty, she needs help fast. When mistaken assumptions jeopardise their initial attraction, Sharda and Fin will need all the mischief and magic of a Highland holiday to discover the true nature of their feelings.

Excerpt

A Highland Hogmanay Meg Mardell © 2021 All Rights Reserved “It’s getting quite sticky in here, isn’t it? Don’t these people perspire a lot in their ridiculous costumes? But the fools will insist upon picking characters that require false beards and headwraps and the lot. What do they expect?” Mr Edward Pilkington watched the white-masked Pierrots and Pierrettes rotating around the Mayfair ballroom the same way he looked at everything else—right down his upturned nose. Of course, on this occasion, he might just be stopping his own mask from slipping. “I must say, I consider it in poor taste of Lady Belleville to host such a gaudy entertainment on Christmas Eve. There’s enough blinding décor in every home and shop window without humans dressing like a bunch of tinsel ornaments.” Sharda thought the display of Venetian masks in gold, silver, and red rather complemented the miles of glittering white ribbon their hostess had threaded around her every enormous window and door. But five days of Edward’s persistent company had taught her to neither agree nor disagree with his frequent judgements as both fanned the flames of his perpetual dissatisfaction. “Perhaps you now see, Miss Holkar, the wisdom of my selection of attire. A simple mask and fancywork vest, and perhaps a sash, is really all that is required on these occasions.” “For women as well as men?” Sharda’s costume took its inspiration from the opulent carnival style of Venetian women from the height of that city’s pomp and power two centuries back. Her square-necked black silk gown cut away to a blaze of scarlet underskirt. Tiny stitched-in crystals covered the tight scarlet front bodice as well as her matching silk hat. Jutting out over one eye, the bold topper terminated in a cascade of black feathers that brushed her black half mask. Edward’s mother, one of Sharda’s inexhaustible supply of second and third cousins, had tried to convince her to wear what that lady was pleased to call her “native finery.” But when Sharda had insisted on purchasing a new costume for the ball, Lavinia Pilkington had graciously conceded that the Venetian style looked well on Sharda, for “many ladies of the Italian peninsula are quite of your complexion, my dear.” The lady’s son was equally talented at giving compliments. “A bit of exotic finery is not amiss on a woman. Provided she’s young, of course. There’s nothing more displeasing than an old woman got up like the Queen of Sheba. Now, perhaps I can see if these insolent Turks of footmen have some iced sherbet. You must be awfully hot in all your…” The gentleman gestured to Sharda’s hat. “Er, not that you look to any disadvantage or are…” The gentleman sought in vain for an acceptable substitute for sweating. Sharda suddenly wished she had selected a full mask to hide her private mirth. She should not find it so amusing when Edward remembered, too late, that he was trying to woo her. Though maybe if she did not find the clumsy courtship so funny, she might cry. “Or perhaps you would like to take the air in the garden, Miss Holkar? And escape this dreadful crush.” “They seem to have brought much of the garden in here, Mr Pilkington.” She gratefully caught the crisp scent of the evergreen branches that wrapped every available railing in Lady Belleville’s house. A delicious freshness that made one forget one was in London. “Hmm, yes, quite. But then you don’t have the same animal noises outside, of course. It’s much easier to talk.” She had not noticed the noise of the ballroom impairing his ability to talk in the slightest. But she knew what type of conversation he had in mind. He wasn’t the first young man to try to negotiate her out onto a cool veranda. “Perhaps I would like an ice, Mr Pilkington. If you would be so kind.” “Yes, of course… Though it will be a dreadful ordeal making my way over to the refreshment area now… No matter. I will see that you get your ice…my lady.” Sharda took a few calming inhales of the pine-and-wood-polish scent of the Belleville townhouse. Now she could face Lavinia Pilkington, a spare lady fluffed up with a great deal of feathers, descending upon her beside a very grand person in purple. “Here she is, Lady Belleville. I thought we should have to send some of your splendid footmen in search.” “That might have proved difficult. I have my own runaway to locate, Mrs Pilkington. My wretched nephew.” Lavinia trilled a nervous laugh, unable to tell if this was a joke. “This is my young friend, Miss Sharda Holkar, who is staying the holidays with us. Sharda, meet Lady Belleville.” “I do like your hat, Miss Holkar. You need a bit of height for such a topper. I, alas, have always extended out rather than up. I do envy women who can carry off such plumage. You are enjoying the ball?” “Yes, indeed, ma’am.” “And you’ve been dancing?” “Not yet.” “Oh dear, I do like young people to dance.” “Do not worry, your ladyship. I am sure my son Edward will do the honours soon.” “Excellent. Now, you must excuse me, for I hear my dear husband’s growl even now. I should make at least a half-hearted attempt to save my guests from his best Scrooge impersonation, should I not?” Sharda and her cousin each dipped a curtsy—Lavinia’s embarrassingly low—to their hostess as she moved back into the crowd like the prow of a ship easily carving a path through lesser crafts. Sharda was left stranded on an island of two. “I do hope you truly intend to dance as you promised Lady Belleville. And what did you think of her ladyship? Quite a superior person, I think, but Edward says she wears too many jewels for true breeding. I only wish I had such a problem! Whatever is taking Edward so long, do you think?” Lavinia had a fidgety manner that made it impossible to relax in her company. After nearly a week as her guest, Sharda was almost as high-strung as her hostess. The prospect of enduring even another five minutes with this wearisome woman was unbearable. Especially as her only reward would be to eat a melted ice and then dance in Edward Pilkington’s sticky grip. “He promised me he would return very soon. Perhaps I might wait for him in the garden, Mrs Pilkington?” Lavinia’s eyes glittered behind her feathered mask. “Ah, yes, that would be an excellent idea. It is far too noisy and hot in here.” “Should you like to come with me, cousin?” “Oh, no. No, no. I declare I see my dear friend Mrs, er…Bamtree just over there. But you go right ahead, my dear.” Sharda needed no further encouragement.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Meg moved from the US to England because she fell in love with the Victorians’ peculiar blend of glamour and grime. After a decade of exploring historical excesses in a prim scholarly fashion, she realized that fiction is the best way to delve into that period’s great female-focused and LGBT+ stories. Weaned on the high-seas romances of the 1990s, Meg’s lost none of her love for cross-dressing cabin boys but any tolerance for boorish heroes. She’s delighted to now have a whole raft of quirky and queer characters to cheer for on their quest for Happily Ever After. She frequently breaks off writing for an Earl Grey tea (milk not lemon). She’s trying to learn Polish and Portuguese at the same time. She plans to escape Brexit Britain.

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Crossed Lines

Title: Crossed Lines

Series: Summerskill and Lyon, Book Four

Author: Steve Burford

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/23/2021

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 69600

Genre: Contemporary Crime, LGBTQIA+, Contemporary, crime, family-drama, gay, policeman, murder, gay and lesbian switchboard, MP

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Description

“Victor really was a very good man.” Why then did someone brutally murder Victor Whyte, an elderly man chiefly known for his dedication to helping the gay community? Inspector Claire Summerskill and Sergeant Dave Lyon investigate and are drawn into the world of the Hereford and Worcester Lesbian and Gay Switchboard, a telephone helpline for LGBQT+ people. Operatives and callers help piece together a picture of the murdered man, and gradually a surprising picture of Victor emerges with the possibility of a murderer in the very last place Summerskill and Lyon would have thought of. Even as they deal with this latest case, the two officers are forced to deal with turning points in their personal lives. Can Claire balance the demands of her position as an inspector with those of her husband and children? Is Dave ready to settle into a relationship with earnest young police officer Joe Jones or will he opt instead for the excitement of an almost certainly shorter fling with charismatic MP Sean Cullen? And what exactly is Sean’s real motivation? Crossing Lines is the fourth in the series of Summerskill and Lyon police procedural novels.

Excerpt

Crossed Lines Steve Burford © 2021 All Rights Reserved Dave Lyon examined the muscular, naked man smiling up at him from the sheepskin rug. “I’m a Power Bottom,” read the caption beneath him, “And I Always Have Safer Sex.” Dave sighed. “Wishing you were curled up with him?” his immediate boss, DI Claire Summerskill, asked as she entered the cramped office. “Or is there only room on your rug for one other now?” “You know you get very camp when you take the piss. Ma’am.” Claire shrugged. “That was quite a longing look there. Love’s young dream isn’t fading already, is it?” “Love’s young dream is, at this moment, on hold while Love’s young dreamers investigate a murder.” Dave indicated the poster they had been considering. “And actually, I was wondering why gay men have to be in such a rush to label themselves. ‘Top’. ‘Bottom’. ‘Passive’. ‘Submissive’. It’s more confusing than quantum physics.” He gave one last look at the happy stud on the rug, particularly at his magnificently rounded arse. “Still, this was in a good cause, I suppose.” “Eyes back in your head and on me, Sergeant. Let’s have a look at what we’ve got here. Could you give us a moment, please, Maggie?” The SOCO officer in whites put down her camera and stepped away from what she was photographing, revealing the figure of a man slumped in a chair in front of a desk. His face was distorted and blackened. Around his neck was a length of telephone cord wrapped several times and pulled tightly into the flesh. “I’ve only seen one other person killed like this,” Claire said quietly. “Bill Kilby.” “Yeah. But he was a big man, prime of his life.” She grimaced. “Bit of a shit, too, as you’ll recall. But this. An old man. On his own.” She scanned the cramped room. “Surely there wasn’t anything of value here?” “I wouldn’t have thought so,” Dave said. “We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.” Claire took a moment to imprint the unpleasant scene on her memory. She hated it, bitterly resented filling her mind with such vile imagery. But it was her job, and the only way to exorcise the picture was to find the bastard responsible for it, and if that meant sitting on any squeamishness she had till it was done, then that was what she would do. “All right, Maggie,” she said finally, gesturing for the SOCO officer to return to her work. She turned to Dave. “Let’s go and talk to these witnesses Chris has got for us and see if we can’t begin piecing together what’s gone down here.” Summerskill and Lyon stepped out of the office and into a large, incongruously ornate hall. On three sides was a series of doors, all presumably leading to small offices or rooms similar to the one they had come out of. Above them, there was a mezzanine, with more doors all around that. White columns, presumably wooden but carved like something out of a Greek temple, reared up around the space, topped with gilded wreaths of what Claire assumed were meant to be laurel leaves. “What is this place?” “How long have you lived in this city?” Dave reached for his notebook. Claire scowled but couldn’t deny the implied criticism. The building they were in stood on the very edge of the city’s high street, its worn brick and wood exterior a sharp contrast to the clean-cut brightness of the metal and glass shop fronts surrounding it. Over the years she had lived in Worcester, Claire must have passed it several hundred times, either while on duty or when out shopping, but beyond its name, which was carved in stone over the impressive main double-door entrance, she realised she didn’t know anything about it at all. “The Halo Centre,” Dave read from his pad. “Grade Two listed building. Built 1887 by the Congressional Church as a Sunday school. Repurposed as Vagabonds Nightclub, 1974. Repurposed again in 1990 as a centre for various arts and charity groups.” He flipped his notebook shut and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. “Including the Worcester and Hereford Gay and Lesbian Switchboard.” “And what’s that when it’s at home? Some kind of hook-up operation?” “It’s a telephone helpline. The sort of place you can turn to in the face of all too prevalent homophobia. And microaggression.” He gave his boss a look that he would have described as “jaundiced” and she would have dismissed as “sarky”. “The Centre is noted as having an unusual plan with offices in rows around a central two-storey hall with a gallery on columns in polygonal plan.’” “You had time to look up and memorise all that, and you still got here before me?” “Other way round, ma’am. I got here first and then had time to learn it. While I waited.” Claire scowled at him again and strode out across the hall towards the small group of people gathered at the far end. “I might be slow in traffic, but you’d be amazed how fast I can bust mardy sergeants. Chris!” she called out. Sergeant Chris McNeil looked up from the seated person he was dealing with. “Inspector. Sergeant.” “What have we got?” “Will you excuse me for a minute, please?” Sergeant McNeil stepped away from the man he’d been talking to and moved to one side so he could speak to Claire and Dave in a low voice. “You’ve seen the victim? Name is Victor Whyte. Midseventies. Was working for the Worcester and Hereford Lesbian and Gay Switchboard. That’s their office where you saw him. The Switchboard is for—” “I know what the Switchboard is for,” Claire said. Dave coughed. She ignored him. “And these people are witnesses?” She indicated the man McNeil had been talking to and the woman across the hall who was also seated and being attended by a pair of paramedics. “Kind of. Both that bit too late to stop the killer, and neither able to detain him. He was long gone before we got here, ma’am.” Claire looked across to the seated woman. “Is she okay?” “Slight bump on the head and a small amount of bleeding from a cut on her cheek. Nothing major. Bit shook up though.” “Not surprising. And what were these two doing here at this time of night? Do they both work for the Switchboard?” “The man does. He’s another Switchboard volunteer. The current chairman in fact. The woman is a cleaner for the Halo Centre. Works in all the offices.” “Right. Pad out again, Sergeant,” she said to Dave. “Let’s go and talk to these people.”

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Steve Burford lives close to Worcester but rarely risks walking its streets. He has loaded conveyor belts in a factory, disassembled aeroplane seats, picked fruit on farms, and taught drama to teenagers but now spends his time writing in a variety of genres under a variety of names. He finds poverty an effective muse, and since his last book has once again been in trouble with the police. (He would like to thank the inventor of the speed camera.)

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The Bareback Cowboy by Melanie Munton

The Bareback Cowboy
Melanie Munton
(Southern Hearts Club, #4)
Publication date: November 23rd 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He might be one of the best riders in the world,
but she’ll give him the buck of his life.

WOULD YOU RATHER… Go through your entire life without ever falling in love?
OR… Have a rough-and-tumble cowboy stomp all over your heart with his sharpened spurs before riding off into the sunset like John f***ing Wayne?

Yeah, that happened. And frankly, I knew better. All cowboys are trouble. I’ve grown up around them my entire life, so I know how they operate. I’ve broken some of the toughest horses in the business. But for some reason, I found this thoroughbred impossible to resist.

A lot of good it did me too. Nothing but tears and comfort eating in the aftermath.

Suddenly, after a year away with no phone calls or texts to show for it, he’s back. He thinks we can pick up where we left off. But I’ve got news for him: His eight seconds with me are already up.

Little do I know, there’s a reason why he’s come back.
And it’s the absolute last thing I expect.

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EXCERPT:

“Does every cowboy on the goddamn planet want between your legs?”

I don’t know how or why, but I just knew I was going to have to do some sort of explaining regarding my conversation with Landon. But am I really obligated to? I don’t think I owe anyone, even Trace, any explanations at all.

With ire fueling my movements, I spin around, eyes full of warning. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

A muscle pops in Trace’s jaw. “Who was that guy?”

I’m surprised I’m actually willing to appease him by answering. “Someone I used to date. Which falls under the category of none of your business.”

Eyes narrowing to slits, he mutters, “none of my business,” as he backs me up against the concrete wall of the darkened hallway between the bathrooms and the concession stand. When he eventually has me trapped between his arms, he presses his fists against the wall and shifts all his weight onto one foot.

“I think I at least have the right to be annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t stop eye-fucking you as you walked away. Wouldn’t you say, Quinn?”

Oh, the nerve of this man!

My chin goes up in the air. “That doesn’t give you the right to be angry with me.”

“Whoever said I was angry with you?” he asks through clenched teeth. “I’m angry at him for looking at you that way. For ever having had the right to. Or maybe I’m just angry at myself for caring in the first place.”

How he always manages to make my anger pull an abrupt U-turn I’ll never know. Something about his unpracticed, candid reactions just get to me. Even if I don’t like what he’s saying, I’d rather be disappointed with the truth than be happy with a lie.

But this particular truth doesn’t disappoint me at all.

The fact that he’s jealous of Landon coils tightly around my chest, making it feel like all my insides are being squished together.

“Why do you care?” I find myself unwisely asking.

“Because, goddammit. If you’re going to ride any cowboy this summer, it’s going to damn well be me.”


Author Bio:

Melanie grew up in the Midwest, but she loves living in the Southeast (where the beaches are!) now with her husband and daughter.
Melanie’s other passion is traveling and seeing the world. With anthropology degrees under their belts, she and her husband have made it their goal in life to see as many archaeological sites around the world as possible.
She has a horrible food addiction to pasta and candy (not together…ew). And she gets sad when her wine rack is empty.
At the end of the day, she is a true romantic at heart. She loves writing the cheesy and corny of romantic comedies, and the sassy and sexy of suspense. She aims to make her readers swoon, laugh out loud, maybe sweat a little, and above all, fall in love.
Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

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Farrah & the Court-Appointed Boss by Pru Warren

Farrah & the Court-Appointed Boss by Pru Warren is live!

https://geni.us/Farrah
Available on All Platforms


For fans of Christina Lauren, Lucy Score, and Sally Thorne: When a carefree party girl comes up against a determined virgin, sparks fly! Farrah’s family has gotten her out of countless scrapes. But when a judge refuses to overlook the fact that she shot illegal fireworks into a school (oops), Farrah is forced to return to the nightmare she thought she was ten years past: Back to high school. It’s too much to bear without a martini. Wait—no drinking too?!

Michael is a guidance counselor and a determined advocate for virginity. The last thing he needs is red-headed chaos assigned to help him keep a “dirty dozen” of at-risk teens in school. But it turns out the kids love Farrah. And to Michael’s horror, he does too. Now what’s he going to do?

A wild fashion show plan, turf wars between the teens, a party girl forced to sober up and a strong-willed virgin forced to loosen up; what could possibly go wrong? A steamy, laugh-out-loud romantic adventure from the author of ELLYN & THE WOULD-BE GIGOLO.

Note: The Ampersand doesn’t need to be read in order, but it might be more fun. Each successive book takes as its hero or heroine a secondary character from the book before.


About the Author:

Pru Warren (who is writing this in the third person as if simply too modest to toot her own horn) bores easily and thus has been a daydreamer since roughly the Bronze Age. She is addicted to writing because in a novel, you can make things come out the RIGHT way. Life and karma really ought to take note; there are BETTER SOLUTIONS to these pesky daily annoyances!Beside her in-the-laptop God Complex, Pru laughs often and easily, loathes cooking, and plays way too much solitaire. She’s plotting world domination even as you read this, as long as she doesn’t have to wake up too early to accomplish it.

LINK WITH PRU!

Website + Newsletter: https://www.pruwarren.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PruWarren
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