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Blog Tour: Last Train To Key West by Chanel Cleeton

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About THE LAST TRAIN TO KEY WEST by Chanel Cleeton

In 1935 three women are forever changed when one of the most powerful hurricanes in history barrels toward the Florida Keys in New York Times bestselling author Chanel Cleeton’s captivating new novel.

     Everyone journeys to Key West searching for something. For the tourists traveling on Henry Flagler’s legendary Overseas Railroad, Labor Day weekend is an opportunity to forget the economic depression gripping the nation. But one person’s paradise can be another’s prison, and Key West-native Helen Berner yearns to escape.

The Cuban Revolution of 1933 left Mirta Perez’s family in a precarious position. After an arranged wedding in Havana, Mirta arrives in the Keys on her honeymoon. While she can’t deny the growing attraction to the stranger she’s married, her new husband’s illicit business interests may threaten not only her relationship, but her life.

Elizabeth Preston’s trip from New York to Key West is a chance to save her once-wealthy family from their troubles as a result of the Wall Street crash. Her quest takes her to the camps occupied by veterans of the Great War and pairs her with an unlikely ally on a treacherous hunt of his own.

Over the course of the holiday weekend, the women’s paths cross unexpectedly, and the danger swirling around them is matched only by the terrifying force of the deadly storm threatening the Keys.

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About the Author

Originally from Florida, Chanel Cleeton grew up on stories of her family’s exodus from Cuba following the events of the Cuban Revolution. Her passion for politics and history continued during her years spent studying in England, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in International Relations from Richmond, The American International University in London, and a master’s degree in Global Politics from the London School of Economics and Political Science. Chanel also received her Juris Doctor from the University of South Carolina School of Law.

Blog Tour: Hell Hath No Fury by RC Boldt

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Hell Hath No Fury, an unforgettable tale of loss, betrayal, and revenge in this romantic suspense standalone by RC Boldt, is now live!

Seven years ago, they took everything from me. My father. My husband. My child.

When they stole my chance at justice, I vowed to get revenge.

Then I met him.

He tempts that long-lost part of me, but his presence is a reminder that betrayal lurks around every corner.

Their biggest mistake is underestimating my commitment for vengeance.

They don’t realize that when it comes to a woman like me, hell hath no fury.

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He’s a creature of habit, and it only makes things easier on my end. I watch as he makes quick work of the steps leading from the precinct to the curbside where a food truck is parked, clearly raking in the cash if the coming and going of countless employees is any indication. Detective Warren pays, then stands off to the side as he waits for his lunch order to be called. I study him through the small monocular from where I lie haphazardly sprawled on one of the benches across the street, and my eyes catch sight of a small nick along the left side of his jaw. Thanks to the last vagrant who claimed this spot, I lie on padded newspapers clad in an oversized dark green poncho, the hood covering my head. With my projected air of defeat and filth, I easily blend in with the others in the vicinity. Once the detective collects his order, I wait until he heads toward the stairs leading back to the building before I make the call. Carefully stacking his to-go coffee on top of his Styrofoam takeout container, he withdraws his cell and stares down at the screen for a beat before answering. “Detective Warren.” “Hello, Detective. I’ve been meaning to call you.” The free voice-distortion app is doing its job, thankfully. “Who is this?” He immediately glances around, searching for sight of anyone who stands out. “Do you know what’s been going on with the Dixie Mafia these days?” There’s a subtle stiffening of his shoulders. “Who the hell is this?” “You’ve been working hard, but nothing’s stuck, huh?” It’s a rhetorical question, so I don’t pause for him to answer. “Well, that dirty money that went missing the other night? It found its way to a good cause. The Salvation Army and the Center for Abused and Neglected Children.” My voice hardens. “Those organizations will do that blood money justice.” Detective Warren shakes his head slowly. “You can’t just go around killing people.” As he gains momentum, his tone grows firmer. “That’s not how things work.” I glare even though he can’t see me. “That’s how things work now, Detective. When the justice system fails, someone else needs to step in.” “You can’t—” “Hey, Detective?” I interrupt suddenly. Because there’s my cue: the wince-inducing screech of the city bus’s brakes as it draws to its scheduled stop in front of the precinct. “Be careful shaving next time. It’d be a shame to nick any more of that handsome face.” The bus blocks my view of the detective as I end the call, then peel off the poncho, and tuck it beneath the thick wad of newspapers before I stride away. I’m out of sight before the bus drives off.

Meet RC:

RC Boldt enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl.

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Blog Tour: Dirty Charmer by Emma Chase

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“If I try to kiss you at midnight, when I’m off shift and you’re officially not a client anymore . . . would you let me?”

Dirty Charmer by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Emma Chase, is LIVE! 

Abigail Haddock is stunning, sensible, and some would say . . . stuffy. But it’s not really her fault. She was raised in one of Wessco’s oldest, most affluent, aristocratic families—“stuffy” is their middle name. So is successful. Abby’s working overtime to distinguish herself as a top-notch physician, just as her family legacy demands.

She doesn’t have time for nonsense.

Tommy Sullivan’s all about nonsense.

Sure, he’s an elite bodyguard with lethal skills and co-owner of the renowned, S&S Securities Firm—protector of the wealthy and titled. But he’s also rowdy, fun and thoroughly irresistible.

Tommy knows how to have a good time, and he’s never seen someone more in need of a good time than Abby. The lass needs long, wet, filthy kisses—STAT—and he’s just the man for the job.

It doesn’t take long for a wildly sexy, sinfully satisfying, no-strings attached arrangement to turn into something more. Something sweet and addictive and real. But Tommy and Abby are too royally stubborn to admit it.

Opposites attract, everyone knows that. But can they last—can they love…for forever?

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Me: Are you texting while you’re driving??

Apparently, Tommy and his bodyguard brethren are trained to text without
actually having to look at their phones, so they can communicate covertly with the
device in their pocket.
But I’ve explained to him—at length—that that doesn’t matter worth a damn.
I’ve informed him of the overwhelming statistics on the dangers of texting while
operating a vehicle and I’ve disclosed my firsthand experiences of seeing the deadly
carnage of such behavior during my emergency room rotations.
And still, after a weighted pause, he replies:
Godly Orgasm Giver : Maybe.
Me: Well, STOP IT!!
For a moment, the screen remains quiet . . . and then those sneaky little dots
appear again.
Godly Orgasm Giver: I like it when you get all shouty caps at me—have
I ever told you that?
I’m going to revisit the idea of Tommy teaching me how to throw a punch. It
would come in handy at moments just like this.
“Is everything all right, Abby?” my mother asks. “You’re all flushed.”
She examines me above her glasses like I’m a bug under a microscope.
“I . . .”
Grogg, the butler, bends down and dips his large, square head towards my
“A gentleman is out front, Lady Agatha . . .”
Oh no.
“On a motorbike.”

“Well, send him away.” The Dowager Countess shoos her hand in the air, as
countesses do. “We don’t accept solicitations.”
I scramble to my feet. “Actually, he’s here for me.”
I throw my tablet and phone and books into my satchel, to hasten my not-so-
great escape.
“Pardon?” my father inquires.
“He?” my grandmother prods.
I swallow hard, rushing out the words. “Yes. He’s a friend. I messaged him for a
My brother Sterling’s eggs-Benedict-laden fork pauses midair on its way to his
“I didn’t know you had the sort of friends who road motorbikes.”
“I didn’t know you had friends,” my sister Athena comments, not in a cruel way,
but with sincere surprise.
I shrug, looping the strap of my satchel over my shoulder.
“Yes, well . . . you know . . .”
With that brilliant retort, I turn and walk out of the room.
I head towards the foyer, the heels of my knee-high boots clicking rapidly on the
marble floor like a ticking time bomb. I yank open the giant front door and . . . come to
an immediate stop on the veranda outside of it.
Because Tommy’s there, down the long gray steps on the front drive, sitting easily
astride a shiny contraption of chrome and steel, wearing work boots, snug blue jeans
and a black leather jacket—looking so sinfully good it might actually be illegal.

I have to remind myself that I’m angry with him, and when I do, I march straight
down the steps. His eyes alight on my boots, skirt and light gray sweater—the ensemble
gives off an unintended “naughty schoolteacher” feel—and the corner of Tommy’s
wicked mouth hooks up accordingly.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Are you mad?!”
He takes a moment to think it over.
“Not the last time I checked.”
“What are you doing here?” I hold out my hands. “And what is this?”
“It’s a motorbike.”
“It’s death on wheels.”
He chuckles. “James loaned it to me for the day. The hills are beautiful this time
of year—I thought we’d take a ride together. You wanted stress relief, didn’t you?”
Tommy taps the shiny handlebar. “A ride on this is as stress-relieving as it gets—better
than normal-bloke sex.”
I peer at him. Do I want to know?
Apparently I do, because I hear myself asking, “Normal-bloke sex?”
“Yeah.” He winks. “I mean it’s not better than how I do it—obviously. But the way
an average bloke has sex—this is definitely better.”
I shake my head, folding my arms. “Do you have any idea how dangerous these
things are? The statistics on motorbike fatalities are—”
Tommy covers my mouth with his hand.
His palm is warm, and so is his voice—a thick, sweet, honeyed tone.
“Do you trust me, Abby?”

After a moment, he takes his hand away and I gaze into those deep, dark eyes . . .
falling into them so easily it should be frightening.
My answer is simple. True ones always are.
“I do.”
Tommy smiles fully, and my stomach flutters with that lovely swirling sensation.
“Then climb on.”
He places a helmet on my head, buckling the strap under my chin.
“And you might want to do it fast—your granny’s coming.”
I glance over my shoulder to see the whole family gathered outside the front of
the door, a spectrum of curious and gob-smacked expressions plastered on their
typically reserved faces. And my grandmother is indeed headed this way, her jeweled
necklace jingling as she quickly descends the long slope of stone steps.
Her voice is high-pitched and harried—a tone I’ve never heard her use before,
and one I’m not keen on exploring now.
“Have to be going!” I lift my hand and give them a thumbs-up. “Talk soon!”
Like a teenager running off with the town bad boy, I hike up my skirt and climb
onto the motorbike behind Tommy. He clasps my hands together securely over his
“Hold on tight, lass.”
I do just that—squeezing my arms around his solid frame and resting my cheek
against the warm leather on his back as he revs the engine to life and we pull away with
a roar that vibrates in my bones.
And as strange as it is—or maybe it’s not strange at all—I’ve never felt safer.

About Emma:

New York Times bestselling author Emma Chase writes contemporary romance novels known for their clever banter, emotional, and sexy, swoonworthy moments. Her books have been translated into over twenty languages around the world.

Emma lives in New Jersey with her amazing husband, two spirited children, and two adorable, but badly behaved, dogs. She has a long standing love/hate relationship with caffeine.

Connect with Emma:

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Blog Tour: Every Little Piece Of Me by Lexi Ryan

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Every Little Piece of Me is a sexy, standalone second-chance romance in the all-new Orchid Valley series.

Every Little Piece of Me by New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Lexi Ryan, is live!

It’s not every day you get invited to your wife’s wedding to another man…as a guest.

The first time I saw Brinley Knox, she was crying, draped in a ridiculous pink tulle dress for her sweet sixteen party, and cursing the boy who’d broken her heart.

I was the hired help, a teenage charity case.

She was the daughter of the wealthiest family in Orchid Valley.

I knew a girl like Brinley was off-limits for a guy like me. That didn’t stop me from kissing her. Or from promising that if she were ever mine, I’d never let her go.

 The last time I saw Brinley, she was sleeping, tangled in the sheets of my Vegas penthouse, my diamond glittering on her left ring finger.

I returned three hours later to an empty bed, the ring on the dresser, and a note that said, “Can’t keep the ring. I’d never hold you to that.”

In the two years since, we’ve never talked about our impulsive Vegas nuptials—never talked at all after that night—but I’m not the kind of guy who’d file for a divorce he doesn’t want.

Until I got this damn invitation, it never occurred to me that Brinley didn’t think our wedding was real. Or didn’t remember it at all.

I guess it’s time to return to Orchid Valley and remind the bride-to-be that I’m a man who keeps his promises.

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Every Little Piece of Me, excerpt © 2020 by Lexi Ryan

I run the water cold and brace myself on the sink.

Everything is okay. This is just one moment. Inhale and exhale, and move your way through it.

Once my breathing evens out, I splash cold water on my face and blot it dry with a paper towel. I’m definitely overreacting. There are a thousand reasons he could be in town and want to talk to me alone. Thousands of reasons that don’t begin with the words “You’re the love of my life. Please don’t marry anyone else.”

Because I’m almost positive I don’t want to hear those words. Mostly.

When I step out of the bathroom, Marston is waiting there, leaning against the wall across from the ladies’ room, arms folded, jaw twitching with aggravation. The picture of tall, dark, and pissed off.

When Marston sets his mind to something, he gets it, and tonight, apparently that something is talking to me alone.

“Sorry.” I smooth down my pencil skirt. “That vodka didn’t sit right.” I turn toward the main room.

He catches me around the waist and spins me so fast that I’m trapped between the wall and him before I can blink. “Give me one minute.” He braces his hands above my head and leans forward.

I swallow hard. Not because I’m scared. Marston’s never scared me. But looking up at him when he’s this close is stirring up all kinds of memories. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him without part of me wishing for the future I longed for at sixteen. I place a firm hand on his chest. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Was Vegas a joke to you?”

Of all the questions I expected him to ask, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. “What? Of course not. Vegas was . . .” Hot. Impulsive. Crazy. Amazing. Wild . . . everything.

He dips his head until his lips hover right above mine. “Don’t you dare call it a mistake,” he growls, his warm breath tickling my skin.

I ache to close the distance between our mouths, ache to feel his kiss again. I’d never call Vegas a mistake. Maybe I should, but I can’t.

“Fuck, you smell so good. I couldn’t get the smell of you out of my mind for weeks after you left me that damn note. Do you know how crazy that made me?”

My hand is still against his chest. If I pushed, he’d back off. He’d give me the space to clear my head. But when he shifts his mouth from above mine to my ear, I don’t want to push him away. I want to pull him back. “Marston—”

“Is this why you sent me that invitation? Did you want me to come here and remind you what it’s like between us? How it feels when we’re close?” In a breath, he has me pinned against the wall again, and his mouth crushes against mine.

Fireworks explode in my stomach. All at once, the floor is falling out from under me and I’m floating.

The kiss doesn’t last long—I don’t let it. I tear my mouth away before it can swallow me whole.

I shove him back, my lips tingling. “You can’t do that.” The kiss was everything I remembered, everything that’s missing when I kiss Julian. Everything I’ve been trying to convince myself I don’t need.

Meet Lexi:

Lexi Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of emotional romance that sizzles. A former academic and English professor, Lexi considers herself the luckiest girl around to make a living through storytelling. She loves spending time with her crazy kids, weightlifting, ice cream, swoony heroes, and vodka martinis.

Lexi lives in Indiana with her husband, two children, and a spoiled dog. You can find her at her website:

Connect with Lexi:

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Blog Tour: Crowned By Fate by Amo Jones

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CROWNED BY FATE (Crowned Duet #2) by Amo Jones
Release Date: May 18th

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Crowned by Hate is $1.99 & FREE on KU!!
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He asked me to love him, so I engraved his name onto my heart.

He craved my loyalty, so I let him feast on my soul.

I wanted a husband, but he gave me a monster.

So, I made it my pet.

The lines between what was real and what wasn’t were blurred.

Our story was a lie.

Until now.

About the Author:

Amo Jones is a USA Today & Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author, totally winging this author thing (she’s probably doing it all wrong). She likes cake, loves wine, and her religion is magic (Slytherin). She’s a profound work-a-holic, but when she’s not writing, you can find her chilling with her kids & Husband at the nearest beach, with a cocktail in her hand.

New Zealand is not a state of Australia and rugby is the best sport ever played.

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Blog Tour: Black Tangled Heart by Samantha Young

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“Readers are in for a thrilling and emotional ride with this one! The storyline is engrossing, the characters are complex,  and the chemistry is off-the-charts palpable. It’s my favorite book by Samantha Young to date.” — K.A. Tucker, international bestselling author of The Simple Wild

Black Tangled Heart, by New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young, is LIVE!

To my siblings, Jane was a friend. A pseudo-sister, the girl we grew up with.

To me? She was everything.

Our passion consumed us.


When our world fell apart, I thought our love would be the thing that held us together.

She was the love of my life. But she abandoned me when I needed her most.

And I’ll never forgive her.


For years I’ve been planning my revenge against the people who took everything from me.

Jane won’t be an exception. I’m coming for her.

She knows it.


She says she wants to help me serve my version of justice on the people who hurt me.

I’ll let her.

She probably thinks it will save her from me.


It won’t.

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I stared dully at my painting. My creative mood had left the building, under the weight of the many questions going around and around in my head. Adrenaline made it hard for me to sit still. Cursing Jamie under my breath, I grabbed my laundry basket and headed toward the front door. Peering through the peephole, I double-checked his door was shut before I left my apartment. Glowering at his door as I passed, I hurried downstairs. How the hell had he maneuvered himself into my building? And why?

To my gratitude, the laundry room was empty as I crashed around inside it. I hauled out my stash of detergent and softener from my allocated locker and started separating my whites. That rat bastard. My heart raced, sweat gathered under my arms, and it agitated me. An encounter with Jamie was the equivalent of fifteen shots of caffeine.

And I hated that he knew I was lying to Asher. Something he could easily hold over my head.

“You are a very angry laundry doer.”

Jamie’s deep, rich voice startled me. Trying to control my breathing, I glared over at him standing in the doorway. Arms and ankles crossed as he leaned casually against the jamb. He wore a T-shirt and jeans. Nothing had changed there.

He was still the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

God, I hate him.

“What the hell are you doing in this building?” I turned my back on him, marching over to the stacked washers and dryers.

“I had no idea you lived here,” he lied, his voice growing closer as he crossed the room toward me.

Attempting not to react physically, to not hunch my shoulders in tension, I stared unseeing at the machines. What was I in the middle of doing again?

“What a surprise to find out you’re my neighbor.”

I snorted in disbelief and turned around, shocked to find him already in my personal space. “Liar.” I dragged my gaze insolently down his body and back up. “Move away. And I mean that in more ways than one.”

“Oh, does my presence bother you?” His wicked smile caused somersaults in my belly.

“What are you doing here?” I ignored his proximity. Okay, I tried to ignore his proximity.

In answer, he stepped into me and I stumbled against the machines at my back. Jamie pressed the palms of his hands on the dryer, caging me in. My breath caught and held as his scent flooded me. That dark, earthy scent was enticing, and my body betrayed my emotions.

Feeling panic rise, I pushed at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “Jamie?”

Those ocean eyes wandered over my face, cold, calculating. “He doesn’t know who I am. You haven’t told him.”

I lowered my hands. Touching him was even more discombobulating. “No.”

He bent his head toward mine until our noses almost touched. I sucked in a breath. “I wonder why you’re keeping it from him?”

Determined not to let him see how much he affected me, I glared up at him. He’d only have to touch me, hold my hand, to realize I was trembling. His face was so familiar. His lips were lips I’d thought I’d kiss for the rest of my life. Why did the pain of it never dull? Why did it still feel like a shard of glass through my chest? “Did you leak those tapes of Foster Steadman to Asher’s mom?”

Something menacing flashed in his eyes before he banked it. “And if I did?”

“Are you being smart, Jamie?”

“Are you asking out of concern for me or for your billionaire boy toy?”


“Never mind. I don’t care.” The bastard dipped his nose to my throat, and I tensed against the stacked machines. He inhaled, his nose brushing my skin, and my fingers bit into the washer behind me. “You smell different,” he whispered, lifting his head to my ear. “Expensive perfume. You’ve come up in the world.”

I felt his breath caress my skin seconds before his teeth touched my earlobe. Gasping, I instinctively pushed my palms against his stomach as he bit down hard, causing a flush of heat between my legs.

With a dark chuckle, Jamie released my ear after one last nibble and whispered, “Is he the jealous type, Jane?”

About S. Young:

Samantha Young is a New York Times and #1 International bestselling author from Stirlingshire, Scotland. On Dublin Street was Samantha’s first adult contemporary romance series and has sold in thirty countries. She has since published over thirteen romance titles including the New York Times Bestsellers Into the Deep, Hero, and her most recent contemporary romance Fight or Flight. When writing Adult Paranormal romance she writes under the pen name S. Young.

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Blog Tour: Beautifully Cruel by J.T. Geissinger

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BC - BT banner

Beautifully Cruel, a must-read dark romance from J.T. Geissinger is available now!


Alpha (noun):

1) Having the highest rank in a dominance hierarchy

2) The most powerful man in a group

3) Liam Black

He was a stranger to me, a dark and dangerous presence who materialized from the shadows one rainy night to save me from a vicious attack. I didn’t know his name or where he was from. All I knew was that the only place I’d ever felt safe was in his arms.

But safety is an illusion.

And not every savior is a hero.

And—as I’d soon find out—having an alpha save your life comes with a price.

Liam Black wanted something from me in return.


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BC - Teaser 1 AN


I stare at him, incredulous. “Are you telling me you think this is a good idea?”


“Then what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”

His pause is loaded, and I know he’s carefully choosing his words.

“But she was about to get shot—or worse—and she fought back. You saw it yourself. On the ground, outnumbered, beat up, gun in her face, she throws a punch instead of all the other things she could’ve done. Begging for mercy. Giving up. Crying.”

He lets it hang there, knowing I have enough personal memories of men far stronger than she doing exactly that.

“So she’s a fighter,” I say, aggravated, yanking on the knot on my tie because it suddenly feels like a noose. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“Aye,” he agrees, nodding. “But maybe it makes it a little less wrong.”

I glare out the window, muttering a curse. I can’t believe he’s saying this. Him, of all people. I expected him to be silently seething with disapproval, not taking her side.

Not admiring her.

“You’ve been alone a long time, Liam. If you were careful—”

My temper breaks. I glare at him and thunder, “I won’t risk her life!”

Declan’s expression doesn’t change. His grip stays loose on the steering wheel, his gaze doesn’t dart away in panic. He simply meets my eyes in the mirror and tells me a devastating truth.

“You say that like you haven’t already.”

I grit my teeth and look out the window, hating that he’s right. Hating myself for letting it get this far.

I had a chance, when all I was doing was memorizing her profile while she poured me bad coffee. Before I knew the particular way she falls asleep. What her skin smells like after a shower. How her body feels pressed against mine.

How deeply satisfying it feels to protect her.

No, more than satisfying—fulfilling.

As if it were the thing I was born to do.

But I can’t undo what I’ve done. I can’t go back to that first day I saw her eleven months ago, helping an old woman cross a busy boulevard, stopping traffic by holding up her hand as the light turned from red to green. I can’t unfeel what I felt when she glanced up and our eyes met through the windshield for a moment before she turned her attention back to the old woman doddering by her side.

She was beautiful, but I’ve seen a thousand beautiful girls.

Never one who looked so fierce, though.

With her jaw set and her mouth pinched and her brows drawn together, she looked like she’d rip the head off anyone who dared to honk his horn at the painfully slow progress she and her elderly friend were making.

She was a lioness. Even without opening her mouth, I heard her roar.

So yes, it was simple curiosity that made me tell Declan to pull over. Yes, it was on a whim that I watched her wave goodbye to the old woman when they reached the other side of the street. Yes, I fully admit it was foolish of me to follow her into Buddy’s Diner, and to sit in her section that first time.

But it was sheer stupidity that I kept coming back.

As long as I was out of the country, I could tell myself I wouldn’t see her again. I thought I had the strength to stay away. But as soon as I returned, the wanting rushed back. The pull to see those clear green eyes. The need to hear that lilting voice and see that shy smile and be near her, if only for a moment.

Now, because I indulged myself, I’m well and truly fucked.

Because need and want have turned into something more powerful. Something darker and far more perilous, for us both.

So now I have two options.

Option one: claim her.

Option two: give her up.

I can’t bring myself to do either.

Joyce42About J.T. Geissinger

J.T. Geissinger is a #1 internationally bestselling author of emotionally charged romance and women’s fiction. Ranging from funny, feisty romcoms to intense, edgy suspense, her books have sold millions of copies and been translated into several languages, including German, Hebrew, French, Czech, and Japanese. The film & TV rights to her Night Prowler series have been optioned by the BAFTA-winning studio that created VFX for movies such as Avatar, X-Men, and The Avengers.

She is a three-time finalist in both contemporary and paranormal romance for the RITA® Award, the highest distinction in romance fiction from the Romance Writers of America®. She is also a recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book and the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy.

She’s a Southern California native currently living in Nevada with her husband and rescue kitty, Zoe.

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Blog Tour: Repent by Cassandra Robbins

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REPENT (The Disciples #3) by Cassandra Robbins
Release Date: May 15th
Genre: MC Romance

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LETHAL (The Disciples #1) by Cassandra Robbins
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ATONE (The Disciples #2) by Cassandra Robbins
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There are two sides to every story.

I fell in love with a redheaded boy, a boy who was kind and good.

Until he wasn’t.

He broke my heart once, twice… I’ve lost count. Like a dark god, he haunts me. He smells like smoke and cinnamon, with danger seeping from every pore. He is my savior, my lover, exciting and addictive.

I should’ve seen it coming…

Never trust a Disciple. You have to sell your soul to the devil to get one to love you. I would.

I did.

My name is Dolores Dunghart and I might have done the unforgivable.

I don’t care if you judge me… I’ve judged myself.

But this is how we live.
And this is our love story.
Edge and Dolly forever.

About the Author:
Cassandra Robbins is a USA Today, Amazon Top 100, KDP All-star and International bestselling author. She threatened to write a romance novel for years. Robbins finally let the voices take over with her debut novel, The Entitled. She’s a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic driven to create obsessive, angst-filled characters who have to fight for their happily ever after. Cassandra resides in Los Angeles with her hot husband, two beautiful children, and a fluffy Samoyed, Stanley. Her family and friends are her lifeline but writing is her passion.

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Blog Tour: Savage Love by Lisa Renee Jones

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Title: Savage Love
Series: The Savage Trilogy #3

Author: Lisa Renee Jones
Release Date: April 21, 2020

The third and final book in the Savage Trilogy…
They say all is fair in love and war, but I really don’t give a damn about fair. In fact, when protecting those I love, fair is the last thing on my mind. Now that I’m back in Candace’s life, those who have used her to try to control me, may well put up a final fight, but they will not win. They will lose and badly.
I don’t just kiss Candace, I ravish her, I drink her in like a man lost in a desert, dying of a thirst he cannot quench. And I was until I found her again. What’s worse is, that desert was of my own making, a desolate fucking desert I’m done with because, thank fuck, she’s not done with me.
Hugging her close, I hold her like this moment is it, like this is the last time I might ever hold her again. I kiss her just the same, like I will never kiss her again. I’ve never kissed her with that kind of desperation before now, and not because I didn’t love her. I just always took for granted that tomorrow would come. And I always intended to come back, but I didn’t and now I know, shit happens. People die, tomorrow is not always guaranteed.
She knows this kiss is different, too. It’s in the way she kisses me back, the way she twists her fingers around my T-shirt. In the way she jerks back, parting our lips, searching my face. In the intensity of her green eyes when they meet mine, the sudden parting of lips, now swollen from my kiss, at what she finds, she orders, “Do not kiss me like this is goodbye, Rick Savage, damn you.”
She tries to dislodge herself from my grip but I hold onto her. “Don’t run.”
She gapes. “Run? Me? I’m not the one who ran.” I physically flinch with those well-deserved words, but she’s not done. “If you want to say goodbye, just say goodbye, Rick.”
“I’m not saying goodbye, Candace.” I catch her hair around my fingers and drag her gaze to my unguarded gaze. I let her see the torment in me. I let her see the guilt. I let her see the dark need in me that isn’t going away like I’m not going away. “This is not goodbye,” I repeat. “This is me making sure that you’re properly kissed, fucked, licked, and loved, the way you deserve to be.”
“It feels like goodbye.”
“No, and one day you’ll trust me enough to know that a dark night doesn’t take us there again. I promise you, you will. Soon.”
“How soon?”
“New York. It’s going to change everything.”
“Can we go now?” she asks hopefully, but we both know we can’t. We both know we have to see tomorrow out.
“I wish we could, baby. I wish we could.”
My mouth slants over hers, my tongue licking deeply, possessively and I make sure every answer she wants is right there in this kiss. I make sure she knows that I’m not fucking living another day without her. She moans into my mouth and when my hands settle on her spine, she arches into me. I rotate her toward the couch, pressing her against the back, my hands finding that soft smooth skin under her T-shirt.
Goosebumps lift on her skin and I tear my mouth from hers. “You have always been exactly what I need.”
“Am I?”
“Oh yes, baby. You are. I felt you even when you weren’t with me. Every day I was away, I felt you. I missed you. I needed the hell out of you.” I catch the hem of her shirt and toss it, my gaze lowering to her breasts, my fingers tracing the swell above the black lace of her bra, then finding her nipple through that lace.
She sucks in a breath and catches my hand. “Rick, I—”
“God, I love when you say my damn name…”
Savage Hunger (book one) – Available Now 
Savage Burn (book two) – Available Now 
Savage Love (book three) – Available Now 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series.

In addition to the success of Lisa’s INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is also the author of the bestselling WHITE LIES and LILAH LOVE series.

Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.


Blog Tour: Savage Heat by K.L. Ramsey

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As president of my MC, I’ve always had to hide a part of who I am. I was fine with that until he walked into my life. Now, I can’t shove that half of myself into the dark anymore. My club won’t understand and the woman I want definitely won’t get it, but what choice do I have? I want them both and I’m done with not taking what I want.

Yeah, I’m savage enough to screw the rules to get what I want and I want them.

Both of them—and I won’t settle for less.

You can’t control who you love but sometimes, it’s savage enough to make its own heat.

About the Book

Savage Heat
by K.L. Ramsey

Royal Bastards MC – Huntsville AL

Contemporary Romance


Publication Date
April 14, 2020

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A Royal Bastards MC Novel
© 2020 K.L. Ramsey

Savage felt about ready to turn back around and leave just as soon as he saw his ex sitting at the bar with her girlfriends. Apparently, one of them was about to get hitched and Dallas was there to help her celebrate. At least, that was what he had gathered from the group of rowdy women.

“Shit,” he grumbled and sat down next to Bowie. He looked down at the end of the bar to where Dallas mean-mugged him and had the nerve to laugh.

“I’d say ‘shit’ doesn’t even begin to cover it judging from the way that blonde is scowling at you, man. What did you do?” Bowie asked. That really was a loaded question. It was more like what he didn’t do that was the problem. She was the only woman that Savage dated more than just a few times. Hell, she was the only person he had any kind of relationship within his entire adult life. And, he fucked it completely up with her. He ghosted Dallas when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to commit to her. She’d never be enough for him and how did he admit something like that to her? It was easier to just walk away from her and hope that Dallas would just forget about him. Her angry scowl told him that hadn’t happened yet.

“We dated,” Savage admitted. “About a year ago.”

“Wow,” Bowie whistled under his breath. “So, whatever you did to that woman must have been big, if she hasn’t forgiven you in a year.”

“I didn’t ask for forgiveness,” Savage growled. “And, I’m not looking for it now.”

“Well, I didn’t have you pegged as the dating type,” Bowie said. Savage held up two fingers to the bartender, signaling that he wanted a couple beers. The bar really didn’t offer much in the way of choices and he was one of the regulars, on nights after he had a rough day at work and didn’t want to deal with his MC brothers asking him a million questions. At the Voodoo Lounge, he could just be himself and no one really bothered him.

The bartender brought them their beers and a bowl of pretzels that looked like they had been set out for a few weeks. “Hey, Savage,” the bartender said.

“Mike.” Savage nodded. “Start me a tab,” he ordered.

“Sure thing,” Mike agreed and nodded to Bowie.

“You new here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bowie said. “New to the area, really. I’m at Redstone Arsenal.” Mike grunted and Bowie smiled.

“Well, women around these parts seem to burst into flames around guys in uniform. Just watch yourself with the piranhas at the end of the bar. One of the chicks is getting married but they seem to be out for a good time. Just fair warning; unless you’re looking for something like that.” Mike looked between Bowie and Savage as if trying to access what was going on between the two of them and Savage growled.

“Thanks, Mike,” he barked, all but dismissing the guy. Bowie laughed again and he wondered what was so funny but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like Bowie’s answer. So, he didn’t bother asking.

“Are you always so grumbly?” Bowie accused.

“No,” Savage quickly defended, shooting him a look that probably told him he was lying. Bowie held up his hands as if in defense.

“Okay, man,” he said. “No need to bite my head off. If you want to go someplace else, we can. Hell, we can go back to my apartment. I have beer there.” Bowie shot him a wolfish grin, making Savage smile.

“I’m good here,” Savage lied. He could feel Dallas’ eyes boring into the back of his head and he wasn’t sure what the hell to do about her.

“Liar,” Bowie challenged. “That sexy blonde has you squirming in your seat. It’s hot, really—the thought of you with her. I just don’t want to cause any trouble. Does she know?”

“Know what?” Savage asked, playing dumb.

Bowie sighed. “Does she know that you date guys?” he whispered.

“No,” Savage breathed. He sucked down half his beer and shot a look across the bar to where Dallas was still giving him the stink-eye.

“You ghost her or something?” Bowie teased and Savaged winced. “Fuck, man,” Bowie spat. “You didn’t fucking ghost that hot woman sitting at the end of the bar?”

“I did and can you keep it down, man?” Savage said.

“I’m pretty sure she can’t hear me over this God awful honky-tonk music and the ruckus her girlfriends are making. Why did you do it?” Bowie asked.

“Because she would never be enough for me,” Savage admitted. It was the truest thing he had said to Bowie and he worried that made him sound like an ass. “We had been on a few dates and I really liked her, but then I realized that if I dated her—you know, just her—I’d be denying half of myself. You know what I mean?”

Bowie nodded like he understood exactly what Savage was talking about and he realized that he had just assumed the guy was gay.

“You like women too?” Savage asked.

“Yep,” Bowie admitted.” In fact, I haven’t been with many men. It was easier to deny that part of who I was while I was living so close to home. I didn’t start exploring that side of my sexuality until I was stationed here. I had been on a few dates with men, but not a lot. So, I do get what you’re talking about, man.”

Savage sat back in his barstool and waved the bartender back over.  “We’ll take two more and buy the ladies at the end of the bar another round on me,” he said. Mike nodded and walked back down to where the loud group of women sat and when he announced that Savage wanted to buy them a round of drinks, they all squealed and cheered. Well, everyone except Dallas. She shot him a look that could stop most men dead in their tracks, but he wasn’t most men.

Dallas stood from her stool and started toward them and Bowie cursed. “Um, I’m pretty sure the shit is about to hit the fucking fan now, Savage,” he said. Savage had a bad feeling that Bowie was right.

He held his breath, second-guessing every decision he had made that day, right down to asking Bowie out and buying Dallas’ friends a round of drinks. Yep, he was thoroughly fucked and all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there. Savage stood and threw down a hundred dollar bill, knowing that would cover his tab, and smiled at Bowie.

“That offer to get a beer at your place still stand?” Savage asked.

Bowie smiled and nodded. “Sure,” he said. “But, for the record, you’re being a chicken.” He looked across the bar to where Dallas was making her way across the crowded dance floor and sighed. Bowie was right but he didn’t give a fuck. Better to leave as a chicken then face his ex’s wrath.

“Yep,” he breathed. “Ready?” He held out his hand for Bowie, knowing he might be sending not only Dallas but everyone who was currently watching the exchange between them, a clear sign that the two of them were together.

Bowie took his hand and they made their way to the front of the bar. Just as Savage stepped out of the doorway and into the night, he looked back to find Dallas watching him; frozen to her spot with her mouth gaping wide open. Yeah, she had gotten the message, loud and clear—he was leaving the bar with Bowie and there would be no backtracking now. There would be nothing he could do to erase the hatred and pain that he saw in her beautiful eyes.


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Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of SAVAGE HEAT by K.L. Ramsey, we’re giving away a paperback copy of the book to one lucky winner!

GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to US shipping addresses only. One winner will receive a paperback copy of Savage Heat by K.L. Ramsey. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of K.L. Ramsey.  Giveaway ends 6/30/2020 @ 11:59pm EST. CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

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About the Author

Romance Rebel fighting for Happily Ever After!

K.L. RAMSEY currently resides in West Virginia (Go Mountaineers!). In her spare time, she likes to read romance novels, go to WVU football games and attend book club (aka-drink wine) with girlfriends.

K.L. enjoys writing Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, and Sexy Ménage! She loves to write strong, capable women and bossy, hot as hell alphas, who fall ass over tea kettle for them. And of course, her stories always have a happy ending.

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