tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88662548508937453322024-02-20T09:56:18.662-06:00Knock Your Books OffKnock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.comBlogger220125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-27332746492689419122015-08-14T00:30:00.000-05:002015-08-14T00:30:00.455-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Souls Unfractured by Tillie Cole!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"For fractured souls are like magnets. </i></span></span><i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Drawn to collide into an impossible bliss…"</span></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Labeled a ‘Cursed’ woman of Eve from birth, Maddie has endured nothing but pain and repression at the hands of The Order’s most abusive elder, Moses. Now living with her sister in The Hangmen’s secluded compound, finally, Maddie, is free. Free from the suffocating faith she no longer believes in. Free from endless years of physical and mental torment.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Just… free…</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>At age twenty-one, the timid and shy Maddie is content to live within the confines of her new home—safe from the outside world, safe from harm and, strangely, protected by the Hangmen’s most volatile member; the heavily pierced and tattooed, Flame. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Flame. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The man who ceaselessly watches over her with his midnight dark and searing eyes. The man who protects her with a breath-taking intensity. And the man who stirs something deep within her numbed heart. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But when circumstances conspire for Flame to need HER help, Maddie bravely risks it all for the broken man who has captivated her fragile soul. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Hangmen’s most infamous member, Flame, is ruled by one thing—anger. Plagued by haunting demons from his past, an all-consuming rage, and isolated by an abhorrent hatred of being touched, Flame's days are filled with suffocating darkness, pierced only by a single ray of light—Maddie. The shy, beautiful woman he cannot purge from his thoughts. The woman he has an overwhelming need to possess… </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>... the only person who has ever been able to touch him. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Flame’s mission in life is to protect Maddie, to keep her safe. Until a trigger from his troubled past sends him spiraling into madness, trapping him in the deepest recesses of his disturbed mind. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>His Hangmen brothers fear that Flame is beyond saving. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>His only hope of salvation: Maddie and her healing light.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I couldn’t take my eyes off his face. I had never looked at men. After what I had endured at the hands of males, I could not think of them as handsome. I had given no thought to the matter at all. I simply did not think like that. I had never felt butterflies in my stomach. I had never felt my heart flutter, had never felt myself losing my very breath. When Lilah and Mae would talk of Ky and Styx, when they would blush just describing their love’s faces, eyes, lips, I did not comprehend. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But standing here, over Flame, right now, staring at his anguished face—his sharp features: slightly crooked nose, full lips, dark short beard, and those soulful eyes, those incredibly long black lashes—a feeling previously unknown to me bloomed in my heart, filling me with light. With an incredible heat. This close, I felt a tension spark between us. I felt something magnetic.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I… I wanted him as my own. In this moment, seeing the man who had become the center of my world, breaking, I wanted nothing more than to save him. To gift him the peace he so richly deserved, even if it meant sacrificing my newly-awakened heart in the process.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>On a loud hiss, Flame’s body stiffened. My grip tightened on the handle of the knife. It felt like a ton weight in my hand, but I knew what I had to do. For Flame, I told myself, You must do this for Flame.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> Steadying my shaking grip, I raised the blade, leaving it suspended it in the air. I inhaled deeply, then looked down at Flame. His beautiful eyes stalked me. With tears filling my eyes, I whispered, “Flame… I know you are lost right now, but I want to save you. I want to save you as you have so often saved me.” I swallowed the lump clogging my throat and continued. “I know you want eternal peace, but… but… I cannot… I cannot take your life.” Tears streamed from my eyes, but I lowered my mouth to a few inches from his ear. “I know the flames pain you greatly. And I know you live with pain. I know you no longer want to live. I…” I sniffed back my emotions as Flame became eerily still. “I have been there too. I have felt the urge to fade, to never wake again. But then something happened to me. Someone happened to me… You.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Flame’s erratic breathing blew against the hair falling over my face, but he did not move. His body was completely and utterly still.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Rearing back slightly, I searched his glazed eyes and prayed to the Almighty that he was seeing me. That he could hear my words. I itched to run my fingers through his hair, like I had seen Mae do to Styx, but I held back. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I have watched you, Flame. I have watched you as you have watched me. And I have seen you free the flames. I have counted with you from my window as you have administered the slashes to your flesh, releasing what you believe runs within you.” My legs began to shake as I lifted the knife, and lined up the blade over his arm. “I will not take your life, but I will help you release the flames. I will stay here with you, in this room, until you come back to me.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Tillie Cole breaks my freaking heart!!!! </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Book 3 in the Hades Hangmen series, so we have an idea what’s coming our way, we know the girls have been through hell for many a year and we know Maddie & Flame’s story is going to be tough, Flame has obvious demons……………well let me tell you NOTHING prepared me for this story, it broke my heart!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Tillie delivers her usual grit, the violence is upped to another level and Flames past is nothing short of both disturbing and horrific, his father makes the cult appear adjusted!!! In Maddie he finds his very own calm in the storm that swirls inside him, she’s touched him and not suffered for it, she forces him in her gentle unassuming way to question his beliefs and she makes him start to understand why he is how he is. His soul is so dark, his thoughts twisted & all consuming, it’s truly devastating to read.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We get the usual mix of supporting characters and it’s amazing to see how well Styx & Mae and Ky & Lilah are doing. This MC is unlike any other I’ve ever read, yes they have each others backs but with the problems each have it just feels like…..more! Viking, AK & Flame make quite a trio and their loyalty to each other gives me feels.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I truly didn't know how Tillie was going to give Flame his happy ever after but she unpicks everything piece by piece and puts him back together - whole if not cracked a little. There are surprises and some dark twists that I wasn’t expecting, it all made an absolutely amazing read</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I worry for Tillies emotional well being when she writes this stuff, she has dug so deep to do this story justice it blows my mind, I’m equal parts excited & nervous for what she comes up with next!</i></span></span></div>
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<i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Tillie Cole is a Northern girl through and through. She originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother — a farmer’s daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals and horses.</span></i><br />
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-69690277121781247562015-08-05T00:30:00.000-05:002015-08-05T07:16:55.437-05:00RELEASE BLITZ ~ An Act of Redemption by K. C. Lynn!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She saw in him what no one else could see. </span></i></div>
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<i><i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He found in her what he could never find.</span></i></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One moment changed everything but, even with a break in time, their connection could never be severed.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In the beginning he may have been her salvation, but in the end she will be his redemption.</span></i></div>
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<b><i>***</i></b></div>
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This is Book One in the Acts Of Honor series, the spin-off series to Men Of Honor. It’s told in dual POV, has an HEA with no cliffhanger and it can be read as a standalone. However, I highly recommend that you read the Men Of Honor series prior, as characters play recurring roles in both series.</span></i></div>
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<b>Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.</b><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Even though this book is the first in this series it does feel like a continuation of the Men of Honor Series as there’s a huge crossover of characters, that’s not a criticism as I love these guys and they wholly deserve a huge part in Annas story, after all if not for them there would be no Anna.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Anna & Logan are high school age sweethearts when their story starts but both have lived and are living there own battles and this gives the reader the impression they're reading about a far more mature couple, a couple that mean something to each other, I am always astounded by how quickly the author pulls me in and has me rooting for her characters whole heartedly.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Logan makes a decision without thought for the consequences and it tears them apart, both are left devastated and their happy ever after is hard fought. They both show such strength of character in their own individual way!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Anna with her kindness and ability to forgive, she's fiercely passionate about giving something back after what her and the MOH guys went through, she knows it’s hard to come back from the tragedies of war and recognises that people need support and a break to get their lives back on track. I loved how she calmed the waters as she faced them and fought for what she believed in constantly.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Logan is just as bull headed as his predecessors, single minded, dedicated and loyal, he’s lost his way for such a long time and has no real solid foundation to build on other than the screwed up plan he’s offered to get his freedom back. He tackles each area of his life individually until he can hold his head up high and be proud of what he stands for, I adored how he would not back down about his relationship with Anna, not even with Jax, he held his own despite the threat of a serious ass kicking if he screwed up!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>K. C. Lynn as ever throws in a few surprises, a few new characters to add to the crazy mix and as ever a serious underlying message, I love how she weaves her tales so seamlessly, definitely a KYBO go to author!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b><u>4 Books Knocked Off!</u></b></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><u>Other Work by K.C. Lynn</u></span><br />
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<u><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>The Men of Honor Series</b></span></u></div>
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<i><i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You will not break me for I am unbreakable. I will live with integrity, fight with honor and die for what’s right.</span></i></i></div>
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<i><i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Precious lives were saved when three brave Navy SEALs went against orders, embarking on a rescue mission of their own. A mission that will never be forgotten and changed the course of their lives forever. While they will never regret their decision, it came with heavy consequence. </span></i></i></div>
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<i><i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now they must fight to protect the women they love while also battling the new and existing demons that torture their souls, from death, corruption, destruction and war. These men are strong, honorable and will do everything they can to overcome the past that continues to haunt them. </span></i></i></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1enEYHx"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Fighting Temptation</i></span></a><br />
<i><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Jaxson and Julia’s story.</span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/1GftvQ4">Amazon US</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1fhrkpB">Amazon UK </a>| <a href="http://amzn.to/1ewuxBn">Amazon CA</a></span></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1BnlTyW"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sweet Temptation</i></span></a><br />
<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sawyer and Grace’s story. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/1HTC0Wy">Amazon US</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1qdxvy9">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1BC5lDW">Amazon CA</a></span></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1LhRC4Y"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Resisting Temptation</i></span></a><br />
<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Cade and Faith’s story. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/1FmP0hb">Amazon US</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1fhrjls">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1FsLP7z">Amazon CA</a></span></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1BnlYTi"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Final Temptation</i></span></a><br />
<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Cooper and Kayla’s novella. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/1HTBQyp">Amazon US</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1CdOli6">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1J9ocsp">Amazon CA</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1IOVOfL"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Men of Honor Series Box Set</i></span></a><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/1IOVOfL">Amazon US</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1Bj6tw8">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://amzn.to/1L8vlbO">Amazon CA</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><u><i><b>Beautifully Insightful</b></i></u></span><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Emily Michaels ~ Have you ever felt like you didn’t belong? Like you never fit in, or you weren’t good enough? This is how I have felt for as long as I can remember. I see the world differently than everyone else, I feel everything differently and I reflect on life differently. And being different in my world is not a good thing. I live in a place that’s divided between the rich and the poor, the beautiful and the unbeautiful, the prestigious and the mediocre. I have always belonged in the first category, because my father was the Governor of Georgia. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Growing up around people I could never relate with, my life had always been lonely, that was until my senior year when I met the one boy who would change my life forever. A boy who my parents would never approve of because he didn’t come from money or the same social class. He rode a motorcycle, had tattoos and was considered to be from the wrong side of the tracks. Yet he was still envied by many. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ryder Jameson was someone who every guy feared, and one who every girl wanted to be touched by. He didn’t do attachments, or have friends… until me. And for the first time in my life I finally felt like I belonged. When I was with him, my different didn’t feel wrong or ugly. He made me feel beautiful- insightfully beautiful. Then one day my world came crashing down on me, and it would be six years before I'd once again see the boy I fell in love with. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Ryder Jameson ~ After working my ass off I am given the opportunity of a lifetime, and if I pull it off I will be the youngest FBI agent to run one of the biggest undercover operations in history. Only the case that gets thrown in front of me leads me back to the one place I swore I would never return to, and to the only girl who’s ever mattered to me. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Except Emily Michaels is not the same girl I left behind. She still looks the same, she’s still beautiful inside and out, but there’s one thing that’s very different about her, one very big thing, and it’s something I didn’t think was possible. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ryder and I come from a world where politics separates us and wealth defines us, but even after all this time we will not let it divide us. Here is our story. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>This is a standalone novel with an HEA and is told in dual POV. Due to mature subject mature, such a explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAodYmjSHRabeRLl6Mk73oMmGy1bs4IAB79edPCYf6MHXLM_q9Rzti4uTf6QMzL961kzSEiHGD_sXYN94TvmmWaOBVZMKyPIDSRVeQFrlGvLWm2LczLrLK_DGUbHtnQOy7VoBAY-eTOHB/s1600/7759261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAodYmjSHRabeRLl6Mk73oMmGy1bs4IAB79edPCYf6MHXLM_q9Rzti4uTf6QMzL961kzSEiHGD_sXYN94TvmmWaOBVZMKyPIDSRVeQFrlGvLWm2LczLrLK_DGUbHtnQOy7VoBAY-eTOHB/s320/7759261.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">K.C. Lynn is a small town girl living in Western Canada. She married her high school sweetheart and they have four amazing children: two lovely girls and a set of handsome twin boys. It was her love for romance books that gave K.C. the courage to sit down and write her own novel. When she is not in her writing cave, pounding out new characters and stories, she can be found living between the pages of a book, meeting new tattooed, hot alpha males with very big…Hearts.</span></i><br />
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-39775860301009113972015-07-28T00:30:00.000-05:002015-07-28T11:15:28.023-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ OUT OF TIME by Beth Flynn!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>RECOMMENDED FOR READERS 18 AND OLDER DUE TO </b></span></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">STRONG LANGUAGE, SEXUAL SITUATIONS AND VIOLENCE</b></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23524664-out-of-time?from_search=true&search_version=service" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS2LL4BOMIj0f2AeZblhewyf7-AdKbeMxwRpHt7i-urINcbM82ziQl7pmwdCplRL63gkatNcb_QgplOoVhFbAo3eX0ToOMYZ_yu-TdWWcMHNujhSN_8w0HehZ8CMA5bRbwDDzDdPJ2Oc/s1600/GOODREADS.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Out of Time is book two in a series. It is not a standalone novel. I highly recommend that you read my first novel, Nine Minutes, to be able to understand the background stories of the main characters. There are many twists and turns in both stories that can best be connected if read consecutively.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> Although I do answer all of the outstanding questions from Nine Minutes, there is more to this story, and some readers may consider it a cliffhanger. If you do not like cliffhangers, you may want to wait until the third novel is released in 2016.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They thought with his execution it would all be over.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They were wrong.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The leader of one of South Florida’s most notorious and brutal motorcycle gangs has been put to death by lethal injection. Days later, his family and friends should have been picking up the pieces, moving on. Instead, they’ve been catapulted into a world so twisted and dangerous even the most ruthless among them would be stunned to discover the tangled web of deception, not only on the dangerous streets of South Florida but all the way to the top.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>In this gripping follow-up novel to Nine Minutes, Out of Time takes readers from the sun-drenched flatlands of 1950s Central Florida to the vivid tropical heat of Fort Lauderdale to the halls of Florida’s Death Row as we finally learn the gritty backstory of Jason “Grizz” Talbot and the secret he spent his life trying to conceal.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Not even Grizz’s inner circle knows his full story—the tragedy that enveloped his early life, the surprise discovery that made him the government’s most wanted and most feared, and the depths of his love for Ginny, the tenderhearted innocent he’d once abducted and later made his wife.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Once Grizz’s obsession and now the mother of his child, Ginny has spent years grieving the man she’d first resisted and then came to love. Now remarried to Tommy, a former member of the gang, the pair have spent more than a decade trying desperately to live a normal existence far from the violent, crime-ridden world they’d once carved out on the edge of the Florida Everglades. For Tommy, especially, the stakes are high. Desperately in love with Ginny for years, he’s finally living his dream: married to the woman he never thought he could have. But even with the façade of normalcy—thriving careers, two beautiful children, and a genuinely happy and loving marriage—they can’t seem to put the past behind them. Every time they turn around, another secret is revealed, unraveling the very bonds that hold them together.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>And with Grizz finally put to death, now Ginny has learned secrets so dark, so evil she’s not even sure she can go on.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Will these secrets tear their love to pieces? And how far will Grizz go to protect what he still considers his, even from beyond the grave?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">*** </span>PROLOGUE<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> ***</span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Prologue</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>1950s, Central Florida</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The slap was hard and almost knocked him to his knees. They wobbled for a split second, but he managed to regain his stance and glared hard at his father. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Your mother said you missed the bus and had to hitchhike home.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He tasted blood in his mouth where the slap had caused him to bite the inside of his cheek. He knew his next comment would bring another blow. He braced himself. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Ida is not my mother.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Another hard one, this time to the side of his head, which caused a ringing in his ear. This was nothing. He’d endured worse. He didn’t know why it bothered his father so much when he said this. Ida herself was the first to remind him that she wasn’t his mother.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Don’t fuck with me, boy. Where were you?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“It’s the last day of school. Some of us had to stay after to help the teachers clean out their classrooms.” This was a lie. He’d gotten in a fight that day. He’d snapped when a snooty rich kid made fun of him. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The kid was new and had only been enrolled for the last two weeks before school let out for the summer. He was too new to have been warned. The new kid had asked him in the boy’s room if he picked his clothes out of the garbage can that morning. He’d left the idiot dazed and bloody on the bathroom floor, then calmly washed his hands and went back to his classroom. He’d looked at the big clock over the blackboard. Less than fifteen minutes until summer started. Hopefully, his dad wouldn’t work him to death and he’d be able to keep an eye out for her. For Ruthie.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d been on the loaded school bus, ready to pull away, when the driver reached over and opened the door. The substitute principal stood at the front of the bus and quietly perused the group of kids. When he saw who he was looking for, he pointed and indicated with his finger. Follow. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Damn. He’d almost made it out of there. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They never discussed the alleged crime as they made their way back into the school and to the principal’s office. He simply bent over the desk and endured the paddling. It wasn’t so bad and didn’t even compare to the beatings he’d received from his father. Beatings that had left permanent scars on his back and other parts of his body. He may have been young, but he knew this fucker, a temporary replacement for the school’s regular principal who was out recovering from surgery, was enjoying this way too much. Would probably lock his office door and jerk off after sending him to find his own way home. Fucking pervert. The world was foul.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So, he’d hitchhiked and ended up walking the last seven miles to get home and now stood there, facing the wrath of his father. His stepmother stood off to the side leaning back against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. A hot, stale breeze floated in from the window above the kitchen sink. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>His stepmother. Ida. He’d hated her for as long as he could remember. He had no memory of his real mother. He was told she’d died in this house giving birth to him. It wasn’t really a house so much as a shack in the middle of nowhere. A two-bedroom hovel situated on several acres surrounded by orange groves as far as the eye could see. His father was a skilled carpenter by trade, but for reasons that made no sense to his son, he preferred this destitute existence. He could have made a decent living, could’ve lived in a home not so far from the modern world—as modern as you could get in the fifties. He chose instead to live in a dilapidated old house that had been passed down for generations. He never once used his carpentry skills to make it into a real home. He’d slap some tar on the roof if it leaked or replace a busted pipe, but other than some hodgepodge repairs, he never lifted a finger. It was crumbling around them.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Maybe it was because his father considered himself the king of his castle and he could hold reign over his unworthy subjects. Maybe the brutality he unleashed here made him feel an iota of power that he didn’t feel in the real world. Maybe knowing that he could provide a nice and safe environment, but purposely chose not to, was part of the psychotic seed that had been implanted in his personality. He wasn’t just a bad man. He was worse than that. He prided himself too much on withholding any good he could do for his family. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>That made him pure evil in his son’s eyes.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Before she’d married, Ida had worked as a maid for a wealthy family in West Palm Beach. His father had met up with a couple of other laborers to make the long drive down to a mansion situated on the beach to spend a few days doing carpentry work and repairs. He returned with his three comrades and a glowing Ida, who had finally, finally snagged herself a man. She had become tired of being someone’s maid, and when a hardworking, widowed family man came along and showed a hint of interest, she jumped. Unfortunately for her, she jumped too quickly and without hesitation. She hadn’t realized then that she was jumping from the frying pan right into a fire that was even worse. Overnight, she went from being a lonely, overworked maid to a lonely, overworked, and abused housewife.</i></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No, he had no good memories of Ida. Maybe she’d started out trying to do her best. To </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">make their shack a home, to be a mother to her new husband’s young son. But if she had started out that way, he had no recollection of it. Maybe she wasn’t always the horrible person he knew. Maybe his father made her that way. It didn’t matter. He hated her no matter what. He hated her because he knew what she was doing to her own daughter. His half-sister, Ruthie.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ruthie was a sweet and trusting child who’d captured his heart since the day she was born. She was a happy little girl who was always smiling in spite of the mistreatment her mother inflicted. He spent every second that he wasn’t at school or working caring for his little sister. He adored her and did everything he could to protect her from his parents, especially Ida. He made sure she ate when she was sent to bed without supper. He made sure she was bathed. He couldn’t do it every day, but he did it as often as he could manage. He erased evidence of her bathroom accidents, making sure to wash out her clothes in the creek and let them dry before returning them to her dresser. He wiped away her tears and kissed her boo-boos. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Unfortunately, there were too many even for him to kiss away. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Every night she’d say, “Brother, tell me a story. Tell me a happy story where things don’t hurt and everybody is nice.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He would pull her close in the bed they’d shared ever since she was a baby and, ignoring the stench of their unwashed bodies, he would make up happy stories to tell her. Anything to make her forget, just for a little while. They would watch the stars from their bedroom window and sometimes he‘d even use them in his stories. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“See the brightest star, Ruthie?” he’d tell her as they gazed out their window. “That’s you. You’re the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Where are you, Brother? Are you there, too?” she asked him once.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’ll always be the one that’s closest to you.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He didn’t know if the stories he made up were happy ones. He didn’t know what happiness was himself, so how could he tell a four-year old? But he tried.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Once in a while, after he was certain his father and Ida were asleep, he’d go to the back screen door and let Razor in to sleep with them, too. Razor was a big black Rottweiler that had wandered up to their house one day and never left. His father refused to let the dog stay and insisted he didn’t need another mouth to feed, that he’d shoot the dog if it didn’t leave on its own. The dog was smart. Sensing the father’s animosity, it would come around only at night and wait for the handout left for him on the far side of the barn. His father finally relented; he decided maybe the dog wasn’t so bad after all when his barking woke them up one night to warn them that a wild animal was trying to get into the chicken coop. The hen’s squawking never reached their sleeping ears, but the stray dog’s barking and pawing at their back door did. His father let Razor stay, but he had to be kept outside.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now, the beating done for the day, his father stared at him for a few seconds. Finally, he said, “Get your fucking chores started. Don’t come back in until they’re all finished. You don’t get done before supper and you don’t eat.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The boy didn’t need to glance at his stepmother to know she would purposely serve a very early supper that day. He headed out the back screen door and let it slam behind him. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“C’mon, Razor,” he said as he headed for the ramshackle barn.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It was dark outside when he finally finished his chores. He found some food he’d stashed in the barn and silently ate, sharing half with his dog. After washing up in the rain barrel, he headed into the house and crawled into bed with Ruthie, pulling her close. She moaned.</i></span></span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Brother is here, Ruthie. Do you want a story?” He was exhausted, but couldn’t fall asleep thinking he would let her down without a story.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“My stomach hurts,” she whispered.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?” he whispered back.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“No. It’s not that kind of hurt.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“What kind of hurt is it? Are you hungry? </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Mommy stepped on it.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He stiffened, then squeezed his eyes shut. He was glad she didn’t want a happy story tonight because the only one he could think of was one where he strangled Ida with his bare hands.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-left: 36px; min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The next day, he was walking back from the groves carrying the three squirrels he’d killed with his slingshot. Ida could make a decent stew out of these. He’d watched Ruthie that morning at the table as she slowly ate her breakfast. She seemed okay, and he’d left to hunt before she finished. He shouldered the squirrels and imagined the look on Ruthie’s face when she saw what he’d caught.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s when he heard it. A shotgun blast coming from the direction of the house.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d heard the shotgun before, when his father caught rare sight of a deer or other animal that was either a predator or something that would end up on their dinner table. But his gut told him this was different. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He broke into a full run, then came upon a scene that brought him up short. He tensed as his mind started to grasp what had happened. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>There, right beside the clothesline. His father holding the shotgun. Ida cradling a bleeding arm. Razor on his side and lying in a puddle of blood. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>And Ruthie, on the ground and flat on her back, her arms at her sides. Ruthie. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He broke into another run.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Your fucking dog was attacking your sister, and when Ida tried to stop him, he went after her, too,” his father said coldly, a finger still resting on the trigger. “I had to kill him.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Razor attacked Ruthie and then Ida for trying to stop him? Impossible. Razor would never hurt Ruthie. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ida held her arm up for him to see. She didn’t have to. He had already seen it and there was no doubt it was a bite from Razor. More like a mauling. Like he’d grabbed on and was wrestling with her. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He dropped his dead squirrels and knelt at Ruthie’s side. And then he knew for certain the concocted story wasn’t true. His sister was lying on her back, her eyes closed. Soft blonde curls framed her face. She looked more peaceful and beautiful than he had ever seen her. A tiny smile curved her sweet, innocent mouth. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Of course she was smiling. She had just escaped from hell. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He knew she was dead. He also saw nothing on her body that indicated Razor had attacked her. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They were lying. But he’d already known that. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He couldn’t stop himself. The words were out of his mouth before he could think.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Doesn’t look like Razor attacked Ruthie. No bites or anything. Just Ida’s bruises.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The blow was hard, but not unexpected. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Get the shovel,” his father ordered. “Pick a place way out past the house and bury your sister. Don’t care what you do with your dog. You can drag its lousy ass out to the groves if you want and give the vultures some supper.” Scooping up the three squirrels that had been dropped, he grabbed his wife by the uninjured arm. “You ain’t hurt so bad you can’t make supper.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>As he headed back to the house with Ida and the dead squirrels, he yelled over his shoulder, “And when you’re done you get your sorry ass back here and put out the rat poison like you were supposed to do yesterday.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He stared after them as they made their way back to the house and tried to imagine a world without Ruthie. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A world without light. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 11px; text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Two weeks later, he was sitting in the passenger seat of a strange man’s car. The man had introduced himself when he picked up the young hitchhiker, and he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the boy just stared at him and refused to say anything. The boy now turned to gaze out the car window as he reflected on what he’d done.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d buried his sister like his father had told him to, taken his shirt off and covered her body with it before retrieving a shovel and heading way out on their property where he dug one large grave. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Leaving the shovel at the gravesite, he’d headed back to the house. He went into the barn and retrieved the rat poison, shoved it down into his pants. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d gone into the house, noticed that Ida had cleaned up and was working on their squirrel stew. He could tell by her movements she was in a lot of pain. Razor had done a decent job of tearing up her arm. She probably needed to go to the hospital, but his father would never take her, nor would he allow her the use of their one vehicle. It wasn’t at the house anyway. He must’ve gone somewhere. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It was obvious what had happened. Ida had been giving Ruthie another beating and Razor had stopped her. Unfortunately, Razor hadn’t stopped her in time. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The boy had no way of knowing that Ruthie had been slowly dying of internal injuries sustained from her mother’s brutal beatings, culminating in the final stomp to her tiny stomach the day before. He was certain Ida had always inflicted her brutality on Ruthie inside the house, where Razor wasn’t allowed. That day must’ve been different. She was probably dragging a crying Ruthie out to the yard to help her with some chore and started whaling on her when the little girl wouldn’t, or most likely couldn’t, do as she was told. There was no doubt Razor had been trying to defend Ruthie by grabbing Ida by the right arm. Ida was right-handed.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Leaning back from her spot at the stove, Ida looked out the back window and spied the little girl’s body in the yard. She gave her stepson a level look. “You’re not finished. What are you doing in here?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Her voice was steady and without emotion. She could’ve been asking him if he’d fed the chickens or painted the fence. It revolted him to think that this was how she thought of her daughter’s burial: a chore. She was more of a monster than his own father. She had given birth to Ruthie. She had shared the same body with her only child for nine months. He didn’t know anything about mothering, but even he could see how there could be, should be, a special bond between a mother and her child.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Without looking at her he answered. “Hole’s dug. Came back in for something to wrap her in. Was gonna take my bed sheet.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They’d always shared a bed and it had only ever known one sheet. He would use it to wrap Ruthie’s tiny body. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He didn’t know what caused Ida to say the next thing. She countered with an offer that surprised him but also provided him with an opportunity. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I have something you can use. Got it as a going away gift from where I used to work.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She took the big spoon she had been stirring with, tapped the side of the pot and laid it down. Cradling her sore arm against her chest, she headed back toward the bedroom she shared with her husband. He knew her arm was hurting, knew it would take a few minutes to dig out whatever it was that she was going to get. He could hear her clumsily rustling around for something. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He seized the chance to retrieve the poison from his pants and dump the entire contents of the container in the stew. He hastily stirred it, grateful that it seemed to quickly dissolve, and returned the spoon back to its place. He was standing by the back door when she returned with a blue piece of fabric draped over her good arm. He realized that it was a bathrobe of some type. It was thin and he didn’t need to be educated to know that it was high-quality and expensive. Going away gift my ass, he frowned. She stole this. She held it out to him while avoiding his penetrating green eyes. They’d always unnerved her, at least that’s what he’d heard her tell his father, and for a split second she seemed to hesitate, to waver.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She must have regained her bravado and, without waiting for him to take the robe, snapped, “Wrap her in this.” She tossed it at him and headed back over to the stove to stir her stew.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>At the freshly dug grave, he gently cloaked Ruthie’s little body in his own shirt. “Brother is always with you, Ruthie,” he said quietly. He then wrapped Razor in Ida’s expensive bathrobe and snorted to himself as it occurred to him that even his dog was too good for Ida’s supposed going away gift. He gently laid his little sister in the very deep hole and placed Razor next to her.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You were a good boy, Razor. You did the right thing trying to protect her. Now you can always protect her.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He knew he wasn’t going to mark her grave for anyone to know where she was. Only him. He knew nobody would be looking anyway. It wasn’t like she was going to be missed. Like him, she hadn’t been born in a hospital. He doubted she even had a birth certificate. He wasn’t sure if he had one himself, though he guessed there was one somewhere, since he’d been enrolled in school. Do you need a birth certificate to go to school, he wondered? He didn’t know. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He stood over his sister’s grave and stared at the freshly compacted earth. It was missing something. He wandered off and soon came back with an oversized rock. The stone was heavy, massive really, and he had exerted an enormous amount of energy to carry it to her gravesite. He dropped it with a thud. He had chosen it because of its size and unique shape. He would remember it. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Falling to his knees, he began to weep. He never remembered crying even once in his life. Not even as a child, enduring horrific abuse that was tantamount to torture. He couldn’t comment on why his father hated him. He couldn’t figure why his stepmother hated Ruthie. He didn’t want to think about them, anyway. After he was finished, he’d never think of them again.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A low wail that didn’t sound human began to build, a cry that came straight from the pit of his empty stomach and found its way up his chest, through his throat and out his mouth, taking his soul and any semblance of light with it. The light that had been Ruthie. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He wasn’t sure how long he’d knelt sobbing at Ruthie and Razor’s grave. His eyes stung and he had a combination of dry and wet snot all over his bare arms as he tried to swipe away the grief. His sore back eventually brought him out of his mourning, the pulse of the sun reminding him of the lashes his father had inflicted a few nights earlier. He was physically and mentally exhausted, but his job wasn’t finished yet. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was worn out, but somehow he gathered the strength he needed and headed out further to an even more remote location. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He had one more grave to dig. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He would bury them together, not for the same reason that he buried Ruthie and Razor together: to offer protection and comfort to one another. No, he dug one mass grave because they deserved to be dumped like garbage. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>And that was exactly what he was going to do.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 11px; text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b></b></span><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Kid? Kid, you need anything or have to use the bathroom?” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d fallen asleep and jumped when he was touched. It took him a split second to remember where he was. A car, now parked. The man who’d picked him up was looking at him, waiting.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The man nodded out the window. “I’m getting gas. You need to use the john or something?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Where are we?” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Fort Lauderdale. Getting some gas and heading to Miami.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He nodded his head, starting to sit up. He was sore. The last few days had taken a toll on him physically and he was feeling it.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah, I gotta go.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He went around the side of the little gas station and let himself into the restroom. It smelled like crap but was surprisingly clean. His mind wandered as he relieved himself, memories rolling over him.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d returned to the house that night to find his father and Ida sitting at the dinner table eating stew. He reached up on the shelf and took down an old jelly jar, using the kitchen tap to fill it up. Leaning back against the counter, he drank his water as he watched them eat their dinner. Nobody bothered to offer him any. That was okay. He would’ve refused it anyway.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Tastes like shit! How the fuck can you mess up squirrel stew?” When Ida didn’t answer, his father backhanded her across the face. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Taking his glass of water, he’d gone to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He laid down on the bed that he’d shared with Ruthie, hugged the only pillow close to his chest, and fell immediately into a dead sleep.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was awakened that night to the sound of violent vomiting and retching. The next couple of days were a blur as he tried to pretend to help his extremely sick parents. Keeping buckets by their bedside, bringing them liquids to drink. Liquids he had continued lacing with more poison from the barn. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He remembered the instant his father realized what was happening. He was trying to get out of his bed, insisting that his young son take him and his wife to the hospital. The boy wasn’t old enough to have a license, but he knew how to drive. He’d let his son drive their beat-up old station wagon to haul things around the property. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You’re gonna drive us to the hospital, boy,” he said, voice laced with pain. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“No, I’m not.” He just looked at them, a small smile on his lips. “I’m going to watch you both die a slow and painful death. I’m kind of glad you never bought us a TV. This will definitely be much more entertaining.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Bloodshot and pain-filled brown eyes met hard green ones as realization dawned. His father glanced around his bedroom and noticed his shotgun was not in the corner. It was gone. Even if it had been there, he wouldn’t have had the strength to get up and get it.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>His father fell back onto the bed and turned to look at his wife. She was curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees, which were pulled up to her chest. She had heard the conversation and opened her eyes long enough to say to her husband, “We both deserve this.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>His father rolled onto his back and looked at his son, who stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, green eyes cold and staring.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Shoulda known you were the devil’s seed.” Without waiting for the boy to comment, he added, “I loved your momma and thought I did the right thing by marrying her when she was pregnant by another man. Shoulda known you were evil when you killed your own mother, you no good piece of shit.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Finally, an answer. Although it didn’t matter now. The man who’d raised him wasn’t his father. The man who’d raised him resented him for taking his mother’s life in childbirth. Another man’s bastard had killed the woman he loved and he was going to make that child pay. Had been making that child pay ever since. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> In a way, he could kind of understand that. He almost allowed a stab of conscience in, telling him he should take them to the hospital. Maybe it wasn’t too late. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But then he remembered Ruthie. There was no excuse for what had happened to Ruthie. No excuse at all.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He stared coldly at the man he’d thought was his father. “I’m just sorry I didn’t do this before you let her kill Ruthie.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Then he went to the kitchen and made himself something to eat.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>After they were dead, he loaded them both in the back of the family car and drove them out to the second grave. He dumped their bodies with as much care as he’d show a pile of old chicken bones and flung the dirt back in. He hurled the shovel in the back of the station wagon and drove back to the house.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He wanted to draw as little attention to the shack as possible. He would not burn it down, but he would give careful thought as to what it should look like if a family just up and left, taking only things they could load in their one car. He went to work, packing up what few pictures they had, their personal papers and clothes. He sneered when he saw a picture of his father as a boy. He looked like a miserable piece of shit even back then. He tossed it in with the other things. He never came across a single picture of himself or his mother. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He carelessly threw everything he could into the old car, barely leaving room for himself to fit into the driver’s seat. He went into his bedroom and retrieved the brown bag that held the few things he’d set aside to take with him. It contained some clothes, along with thirty dollars and twenty-six cents that he’d scavenged from his father’s wallet and Ida’s money cup, which he’d found hidden behind some dishes in the kitchen. He reached into his pocket, retrieving something he hadn’t known existed until he’d started cleaning out their personal items. It was a picture of Ruthie and Razor. It had obviously been taken at their house, but he didn’t know when or by whom. He never found existence of a camera when he was going through their belongings. He had no way of knowing where the picture came from and he didn’t have time to ponder it. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He looked at it again. Ruthie was sitting down in the grass and looking up and smiling. She was leaning against Razor, who had himself wrapped around her like a cocoon. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and she had her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her blonde curls were shorter then. The two of them looked happy. Like they had been romping in the tall grass and had taken a break to pose. He knew neither Ida nor his father had taken the picture. If that had been the case, he was certain his baby sister wouldn’t have been smiling. He carefully returned it to his back pocket and continued his cleanup.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Hours later he stood in the middle of the little house, surveying it. He wasn’t certain, but he was pretty confident he’d loaded up the important stuff. It was the fourth of the month. The electric and water bills wouldn’t need to get paid again until the thirtieth. School was out, so he wouldn’t be missed until September. And even then, he was doubtful anybody would care. His father wasn’t regularly employed, so he wouldn’t be missed, either. They had no phone to worry about. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Yes, it looked like the family that lived here decided to move with their most personal possessions. The small amount of mail they got could stack up for months in their little slot at the post office. Nobody would notice. And by the time they did, it wouldn’t matter. He’d be long gone.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He headed out to the chicken coop to set them free when he noticed laundry on the clothesline. He would grab those clothes and toss them in the car before leaving. After retrieving his brown bag and canteen, he carefully drove the family’s car to the nearest, deepest canal he knew. It was off the beaten path and he didn’t have to pass any houses or civilization to get there. It would be a long, hot walk to hitch a ride somewhere, but he only had a brown bag to carry and his canteen, which he’d filled with water.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now, in the gas station restroom, he splashed cold water on his face and dried off. He reached into his back pocket before leaving the restroom and took out the picture of Ruthie and Razor. He would never hold her again. He would never hear her voice asking for a story. He would never wrap his arms around Razor’s neck and nuzzle his short fur. He swiped away the tears that had started forming in his eyes and returned the picture to his back pocket. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’d taken a vow that day at Ruthie’s grave. No more crying. Ever. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was starting to get hungry and decided to go back to the car to get some money. He would see what the gas station had in the way of food. Hopefully, they had some candy bars and soda pop. He’d tasted soda only once and was looking forward to the sugary drink.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He made his way around the side of the gas station and stopped dead in his tracks. The car he had been riding in was gone. He blinked to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him. They weren’t. That son-of-a-bitch drove off with his brown bag that contained his few items of clothing and all of his money. He had left his canteen on the front seat. Even that was gone. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center; text-indent: 36px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The world was rotten and so was everybody in it.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>TO FOLLOW</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>Read Book 1 in the Series!</b></i></span></div>
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<i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beth Flynn is a fiction writer who lives and works in Sapphire, North Carolina, deep within the southern Blue Ridge Mountains. Raised in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Beth and her husband, Jim, have spent the last 17 years in Sapphire, where they own a construction company. They have been married 31 years and have two daughters and two dogs. In her spare time, Beth enjoys writing, reading, gardening, church and motorcycles, especially taking rides on the back of her husband’s Harley. She is a five-year breast cancer survivor.</span></i><br />
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-41995067954036269192015-05-05T13:31:00.001-05:002015-05-05T13:31:35.938-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ JASE by MariaLisa deMora!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Meet Jase Spencer.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’s just your everyday kinda guy, a hard-</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>partying, hard-living professional hockey player. Nothin’ special.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Good-looking and ripped, the man has moves, on and off the ice. But, he’s also jaded and alone, and tired of living out of suitcases.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>For as long as he can remember, hockey has ruled his life. He’s chased pucks across more than a dozen countries, and had his pick of women in any town he visits.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Then he met HER. And now, he’s about to turn his life upside down because of HER. Because he can’t get the one night of passion he shared with a smokin’ hot biker babe out of his head. Unfortunately, DeeDee wasn’t interested in anything long term, and she’s gone before he’s ready.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Life becomes complicated and difficult when Jase is traded to another team, and as he tries to settle in his new hometown, everything seems to conspire against him, determined to go wrong.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Dancing around their mutual attraction, one day he and DeeDee find themselves face-to-face and body-to-body, but will they be able to set aside their past pain and focus on the future they could make together? Can he make her reconsider her relationship fears and trust him?</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Jase is on a mission to show her what they have together is worth fighting for, to convince her to take a chance on him. His attempts will bring him squarely into the path of a motorcycle club, earning him the attention of Mason, president of the Rebel Wayfarers MC.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Jase says, “Bring it on.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>You miss 100% of the shots you never take. – Wayne Gretzky</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: large;">Copyright MariaLisa deMora 2015</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>From chapter 10, Broken things</i></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“DeeDee, wait,” he called as he ran to catch up with her, settling into a fast walk beside her as they moved across the lot towards fan parking in the front. “Wait,” he said again, reaching out a hand to touch her arm. She stopped so suddenly he stumbled and had to turn around, having passed her with his long, hurried strides.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Hey,” he said softly. Looking into her face, he saw the glint of tears on her lashes and his heart clenched. Blinking furiously, she swallowed and lifted her chin, meeting his gaze straight on.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Hi, Jase,” she said cheerfully, as if she hadn’t just been about to cry.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He took a long look, drinking his fill of her. He hadn’t seen her in six weeks. Six long weeks, and Jase saw she had lost back the little bit of weight she gained when they were together. He thought she looked too skinny again, beginning to lose the soft curves he loved. Arms crossed over her chest, she had her fingers tightly wrapped around her biceps, the tension in her hands giving lie to the smile on her face. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek and she stepped back, out of reach, her reaction twisting his heart in his chest again. What? She can’t even stand my hands on her now?</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You came to the game?” He didn’t know what else to say, what to ask. He knew what he wanted: he wanted her to come home with him, let him wrap her up…let him love her. His mouth was full of those words, his tongue frozen with fear. God, just having her this close was good, and he didn’t want to do anything to send her running again.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah, the radio station gave me some tickets for advertising the club.” Smiling politely, she took another step back and to the side, trying to shift around him but he moved with her.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Oh, promo tickets. Nice. Were they decent seats?” Doesn’t she know I’d get her tickets to every game if she wanted? He should do that anyway, have them at the ticket office for every home game. That way he would know by looking if she was in the arena.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah, on the glass behind home net. You played a lot.” The first hint of a real smile crossed her face. “You look good.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“The team seems to suit me,” he agreed. “You look good too, baby.” Crap, he thought when he saw her flinch as if slapped when the endearment slipped out. Don’t do that again, man.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“It’s good to see you, Jase,” she said, stepping back again. Clearly preparing to leave, she shifted further around him and he turned to track her movements.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“DeeDee,” he was frantic now to keep her talking, keep her here…keep her. Casting around for a topic, he latched onto the most recent thing he knew had happened in her life. “How’s Ruby?” There, look at that; her real smile is back. He relaxed minutely. I picked a good topic.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“She’s good. Seems recovered from everything. Things could have gone a different way, so we’re all glad she’s better.” Her gaze dipped then rose again, “Slate loves her.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah, he does, eh?” He smiled, thinking about how crazy Slate was for Ruby. “It’s still a good thing between them, eh?”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She laughed, and his breath caught in his throat at the sound, bright, clear, and mirthful, so…her. “Well, Ruby’s happy, and that’s all I care about. I love seeing her smile again. You don’t know what she was like before the accident, but this is as close to that as she’s been for years.” She looked wistful, and Jase was thrown off balance that he hadn’t been with her to see all of this as it happened. He would love to be there every day. His heart twisted again and he frowned, thinking, I do still love her. I love her.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“So, how’s work?” Yeah, you’re officially floundering for conversation starters now. Next would be the weather. He groaned silently.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Work is about the same.” She flashed him a grin. “Mercy asks about you sometimes. Said you were the shyest guy she had ever seen in a strip club. I have a new girl auditioning in a couple of weeks; she’s coming up from Florida. It’s nice. Really nice, because, for a change, everything is running smoothly, which kinda makes me want to find some wood to knock on so I don’t jinx myself.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Mercy’s a jackass,” he grumbled, grinning. Leaning over, he offered his head. “Here’s my thick head; you can knock on that. It’s as good as wooden.” He held the pose, looking down to watch her legs and feet, and he saw them angle as she leaned forward a second before her hand settled on his head. Her fingers delicately threaded through his hair to the back of his neck, tracing the skin there softly. Then he lost the heat of her hand as she made a fist and gently rapped her knuckles on top of his head.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Straightening slowly, he caught a look of pain on her face before she smoothed it away, plastering that damn fake smile back on. “There you go,” he said softly. “Crisis averted. You are officially un-jinxed.” Her smile faded, and an uncertain look took its place, making her look open and vulnerable. She opened her mouth to say something, when the loud clicking of heels came from across the lot behind him. Her eyes darted over his shoulder, and with a slam he could almost hear, the shutters drew across her features again.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I have to go. It was good to see you, Jase.” She turned on her heel and walked away.</i></span></div>
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<i style="background-color: black; color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Raised in the south, MariaLisa learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every summer, she would spend hours in the local library, devouring books of every genre. Self-described as a book-a-holic, she says “I’ve always loved to read, but then I discovered writing, and found I adored that, too. For reading … if nothing else is available, I’ve been known to read the back of the cereal box.” She still reads voraciously, and always has a few books going in paperback, hardback, on devices, on napkins! </span></i></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Oatmeal is her comfort food. She hates gardening but loves flowers; not cut arrangements, but in the wild, outside. She has a deep and abiding respect for our military. Her dad was career Air Force, and flew during the Cuban Missile Crisis, Korean Conflict and Vietnam War. Parades make her cry. Walking Dead is about the only TV she watches anymore, don’t bother her on Walking Dead night, when she’s been known to shout, “Go Team Darryl!” Yes, she’s still sad about Firefly.</span></i></div>
<br style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">She’s a hockey fan, like … a serious hockey fan. She’s loyal to the Edmonton Oilers, but asks that we don’t judge her about that. She also likes the Nashville Predators and Ottawa Senators. The local ECHL team, the Fort Wayne Komets, are a fav of hers, and she has season tickets. She’ll also generally try to hit the road games within a hundred-mile radius.</span></i></div>
<br style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">She’s a wanna-be hiker, working on a “bucket list” of hikes like Knobstone (completed in four days mid-April 2014 – whoooo!), sectioning parts of the AT (51 miles in Georgia in early-May 2014), and now and then looking west towards PCT.</span></i></div>
<br style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">She embraces her inner geek; MariaLisa has been working in the tech field for a couple decades. A sometime PC gamer, she still plays EverQuest after all these years. She says, “What can I say, I’m loyal (see above, I’m an Oilers fan LOL). Yes, I’ve heard of WoW, and have a coupla toons there, too.”</span></i></div>
<br style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">On music, she says, “I love music of nearly any kind—jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, gangstergrass, hip hop—you name the type, I probably listen to it. I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But what I really, REALLY love is live music. My favorite way to experience live music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a definite plus!”</span></i></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-74470612621048535012015-04-27T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-27T00:30:01.305-05:00RELEASE BLITZ ~ Desolation by Bella Jewel!<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
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<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">Pippa.</span></i></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<i><div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The girl you all know as damaged. Quiet. Broken.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She
doesn’t fit in. Nothing in her world feels right. She’s trapped in a
spiral of darkness that seems to be consuming her day by day, until she
sees nothing but an empty, black hole.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Her world is a broken place she can’t escape.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She
has people around her who matter. Who love her. But it’s not enough.
Not enough to break her out of the bitter despair she lives in.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Until Tyke.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>He knows pain. He knows darkness. He’s sweet. He’s kind. But most of all…</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>He understands her.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Combining
their demons doesn’t seem like the best plan. Everyone is against them.
He deserves better. She deserves better. They’ll never work. They’re
too broken. Too damaged. It’s a destructive combination that will only
end in heartbreak.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>He’s a biker. She’s a broken angel.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>But in their desolation, they will find peace.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>With each other.</i></div>
</i></span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Coluna Rounded"; font-size: 36pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Other Books in the Series!</i></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Bella Jewel is a self published, USA
Today bestselling author. She’s been publishing since 2013. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Her first release
was a contemporary romance, Hell’s Knights which topped the charts upon
release. Since that time, she has published over five novels, gaining a
bestseller status on numerous platforms. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>She lives in North Queensland and is
currently studying editing and proofreading to further expand her career. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Bella
has been writing since she was just shy of fifteen years old. In Summer 2013
she was offered an ebook deal through Montlake Romance for her bestselling
modern day pirate series, Enslaved By The Ocean. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>She plans to expand her
writing career, planning many new releases for the future.</i></span></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-17101157371647337062015-04-20T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-20T00:30:00.957-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Silver Bastard by Joanna Wylde!<br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First in the new Silver Valley series from the </span><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">New York Times</span><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> bestselling author of the Reapers Motorcycle Club Novels.</span></i></span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-08a7c63b-d2cb-b2d9-7f23-67efa525ac19" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Fourteen months. For fourteen months, Puck Redhouse sat in a cell and kept his mouth shut, protecting the Silver Bastards MC from their enemies. Then he was free and it was time for his reward--full membership in the club, along with a party to celebrate. That's when he saw Becca Jones for the first time and set everything in motion. Before the night ended he'd violated his parole and stolen her away from everything she knew.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Five years. It was five years ago that Puck destroyed Becca and saved her all in one night. She's been terrified of him ever since, but she's even more terrified of the monsters he still protects her from... But Becca refuses to let fear control her. She's living her life and moving forward, until she gets a phone call from the past she can't ignore. She has to go back, and there's only one man she can trust to go with her--the ex-con biker who rescued her once before.</i></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ignoring him, I settled back on my stool and surveyed the room. We sat in Becca’s section, and what I saw wasn’t making me happy. I knew she was a good waitress, but she’d just started here and it showed. Not only had she fucked up several orders, she didn’t quite seem to get the rhythm of the bar. That wasn’t my problem, though.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My problem was that despite these fuckups, nobody seemed to mind. I had a nasty suspicion this was due to her perky tits, friendly smile, and tight little ass that seriously just needed a bite taken right out of it.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She really, really needed to get a new job—every man in the place wanted her. Including me. Especially me. I hated them. All of them. I shifted uncomfortably, because just like every time I shared a room with her, my pants had gotten tight.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Torture. Becca was just so fucking fine on every level, and not just her looks. There was something about the way she carried herself . . . I couldn’t put my finger on it. Like she was dancing through life to some song nobody else could hear. Never met another woman like her—she wasn’t just sexy, she was a survivor and I admired that.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She’d grown up so much since the first time I’d met her. Bigger boobs, a nice fullness to her ass that was nowhere close to fat but would be perfect to hold tight while I fucked her. Her lips had plumped, too, and over the years she’d gained a sparkle in her eyes that turned her from pretty to 100 percent spectacular.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Not to mention how she’d tasted.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.7999999999999998; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Nearly blew in my pants when I’d taken that mouth. Just the memory got me hard. Make that harder. Fucking basket case.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I’d pulled up to find her sitting outside with Collins, a thousand murder scenarios ran through my mind. And yeah, I know I covered that already, but if anything ever deserved empha- sis, this was it. Collins needed to </span><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">die. </span><span style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t care how nice he was. After that I’d throw Becca on the back of my bike and make a run for the hills . . .</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Okay, so there were a few problems with the plan, the top one being she hated me. Or she should—I’d certainly given her cause. Boonie nudged me.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We’re huge fans of Ms Wilde here at KYBO and once again she smashes it out of the park with this new bunch of alpha MC badasses!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We meet Puck straight out of prison and he’s almost immediately drawn into a situation that has so much wrong with it he’s blindsided for a beat, but he makes a decision and there in sets his & the intriguing Becca’s destiny in motion!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Fast forward five years and not a lot has happened, Puck has never really let Becca go but he hasn’t “claimed” her either so let the fun and games begin.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>What we saw of this couple together, was sweet, powerful & hot, I felt their chemistry, I felt their struggles & I felt their love. Puck is your typical MC ~ part asshole at times, uncompromising yet strong, decisive & loves passionately!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I liked Becca, I liked how she was with Puck, she was determined not to go backwards to a life of terror and fear and I felt she held her own well enough, she did irritate me at times but not enough to dislike her, just enough for me to want to give her a shake!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>What I didn’t like was that this book seemed to concentrate more on the background than the main characters, their love story was alms secondary to everything else. On the flip side of that it was great to see so many of the Reapers MC appear in this book so it was a comfortable compromise for me as the reader.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>All in all a great start for this new series, I’m invested so bring on the next instalment ~ fast!!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>4 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>She currently lives in Idaho.</i></span></span></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-45851385057581178222015-04-13T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-13T03:03:17.554-05:00BLITZ ~ Against the Tide by Nikki Groom!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I was happy until I met him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I was content until I met her. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>That's a lie. I was lonely.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>That's a lie. I was incomplete. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>He was nothing but a handsome distraction.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>She was nothing but a pretty pastime. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>That's untrue. He changed my life.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>That's untrue. She altered my world. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I blame him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I blame her. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I blame myself. He wasn't to know.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I blame myself. It wasn't her fault. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I don't want to need him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I hate that I want her. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>There's no easy solution.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><strong>There's no going back.</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Marc calls for more shots right about the same moment I scan the VIP area and my eyes lock on to her. After three weeks of not being around, she’s here. The girl that’s got me all kinds of flustered. Always with that guy who looks like a total wanker with his floppy hair and pretty boy face.
Who is she? Why can’t I look away?
I’ve been waiting to see her since the last time she was here. I've looked for her. I’ve wanted to feel the electricity that fires off her when she holds my gaze, and every week that she’s not been here, I’ve been disappointed. We haven’t spoken, haven’t even exchanged smiles. There’s just something there. It’s like we seek each other out and I don’t know why. It’s turned in to a habit I like more than the ecstasy I take.
“Hey Finny boy, tequila, you in or you going for a piss?” Kyle calls out behind me loading his question with the silent search of my intentions for this evening.
I glance back at him, answering mindlessly, “Yeah, man.” When I look back, she’s still there. Looking. Just looking. No smile. No scowl. Just looking at me like there’s something compelling her to do so. The light catches her lip ring and my eyes roam the length of her body like a hungry man that’s been starved for weeks, no, months. She gives off something that makes my hormones run rampant, like an unbalanced teenager. Only I’m fully aware that I’m a grown man and I know exactly what I want to do to her. God, what I would do to her. She’s dressed in a little black dress, and I mean, little. It’s simple, but the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It hugs her tiny, perfect waist, and only just covers her arse. Her legs, her perfect legs, which, even though she isn’t tall, look just long enough to wrap around my waist …
“Here.” Harley nudges my arm and hands me a shot of tequila. I take it mindlessly, all the while still locked on to the enigma on the other side of the room. Then she does something that floors me. She nods, winks, and raises her glass to me across the room. For a second, I’m stunned at the action. We’ve been watching each other for weeks, no words, no actions, just the silent knowledge that we both know we are looking at each other. Now she’s broken the silent pact, what does that mean? </i></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.readlovelust.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Me2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Nikki Groom" class="aligncenter wp-image-14802" src="http://www.readlovelust.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Me2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Nikki Groom is a hopeless romantic, lover of all things happily ever after and firm believer that love makes the world go around.
In her spare time, you will find Nikki laughing with her very treasured family, walking with her beloved dog in the hundred acre wood or curled up in a cosy corner with words and wine.
She lives in East Sussex with her husband and two children. Having turned her hand to many things over the years, Nikki is now proud to add ‘author’ to that list.
Having always been a dreamer, Nikki’s imagination stretches far and wide, which enables her to get lost in faraway places and imaginary people.
Nikki loves to chat, especially about books! You can find her here…</i></span>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong><i>Additional Books by Nikki Groom</i></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><em><a href="http://amzn.com/B00KLO4M9U" target="_blank">Holding Aces (The Kingdom, #1)</a> </em><em><a href="http://amzn.to/1F4uHJv" target="_blank">High Stakes (The Kingdom, #2)</a></em></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-7995571937405015602015-04-08T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-08T00:30:00.796-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ The Slayer by Kele Moon!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>To Chuito the apartment was a self-imposed prison for a lifetime of sins. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>To Alaine, the girl next door, it was salvation from her overbearing, religious father.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was a devil. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She was an angel.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Two people who should’ve never met, let alone become friends, but it’s not until they give into the dangerous passion that’s been simmering under the surface for five years that things go to hell. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>On the outside, Chuito ‘The Slayer’ Garcia is on top of the world. He’s successful. He’s wealthy. He's a champion MMA fighter surrounded by friends who support him, but they don’t know what he was before he came to Garnet.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A gangster. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A thief. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>An addict. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A murderer.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now his past is churning up demons he can’t ignore. Chuito knows he needs to go back to Miami to end it, but there's something holding him back, a single temptation he can't resist before leaving.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Alaine. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She’s the one drug he can’t give up…even if it destroys them both.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">“To me you’re coke. Fine. Smooth. Perfectly white. Very bad for me, but so fucking sexy I don’t give a shit. It’s worth going down for.” – Chuito Garcia</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VAOBZT0" target="_blank">Amazon</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VAOBZT0" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> | <a href="http://www.loose-id.com/untamed-hearts-2-the-slayer.html" target="_blank">Loose Id</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m an addict. You know that. Getting off the drugs has never changed that. If I—” </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He swallowed hard, and his voice was still full of pain. “I just can’t. I shouldn’t even touch you.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You drink,” she pointed out. “You’re not addicted to that.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Alcohol is not my drug of choice. It’s the exact opposite of it.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m not cocaine,” she reminded him.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“That’s what you think?” He glanced at her over his shoulder, his dark gaze running over her for one long, hot moment until it stopped to rest on the pink lace of her bra. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">“To me you’re coke. Fine. Smooth. Perfectly white. Very bad for me, but so fucking sexy I don’t give a shit. It’s worth going down for.”</span></i></span></div>
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<i style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">If you've ever read any of Kele Moon's books I know you were just as excited as me to read the Slayer! </span></span></i></div>
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<i style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">The little glances we had of Chuito in the Viper (Marco-Chuito's cousin's story) had me anxiously awaiting Chuito and Alaine's story. I couldn't wait to see how Kele wove this story to make us swoon over the dangerous gang leader. Once again I learned to never underestimate Kele. Swoon is an understatement! Chu had me hook, line, and sinker from the first chapter!</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><i><span style="text-align: start;">Raised on the tough streets of Miami, gang life seemed to be the only option Chu thought he had. Watching the streets claim more than one of his loved ones and then land his cousin, Marco, in prison Chu knew he had to leave and get away from this life of crime. </span></i></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><i><span style="text-align: start;">When Chu is approached by Clay to become the first pro fighter for their gym in Garnet, Chu sees it as a way out. He meets Alaine the first day in Garnet when he is introduced to his new neighbor. </span></i></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="text-align: start;">Alaine is the daughter of the town preacher. Having fallen out of her father's good graces she is taken under Jule's wing.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="text-align: start;"> Jule's offers her a place to live, a job at her law office, and is helping her get through law school. When Alaine meets Chu she sees there is so much more to this wounded, tattooed, Puerto Rican who calls her Mami << (cue swoon)</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="text-align: start;">This is the love story of Chu and Alaine. They have so many obstacles in their way but can love conquer all? </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="text-align: start;">This can be read as a stand alone but you would lose a lot of back story about the other people in the book.</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>5 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVIBKLC" target="_blank"><img alt="The Viper" class="alignnone wp-image-1514 size-medium" src="http://www.asthepagesturn.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/The-Viper-206x300.jpg" height="300" width="206" /></a> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VAOBZT0" target="_blank"><img alt="KM_TheSlayer" class="alignnone wp-image-1163 size-medium" src="http://www.asthepagesturn.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/KM_TheSlayer-206x300.jpg" height="300" width="206" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A freckle faced, redhead born and raised in Hawaii, Kele Moon has always been a bit of a sore thumb and has come to enjoy the novelty of it. She thrives off pushing the envelope and finding ways to make the impossible work in her story telling. With a mad passion for romance, she adores the art of falling in love. The only rules she believes in is that, in love there are no rules and true love knows no bounds.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So obsessed is she with the beauty of romance and the novelty of creating it she’s lost in her own wonder world most of the time. Thankfully she married her own dark, handsome, brooding hero who had infinite patience for her airy ways and attempts to keep her grounded. When she leaves her keys in the refrigerator or her cell phone in the oven he’s usually there to save her from herself. The two of them now reside in Florida with their three beautiful children who make their lives both fun and challenging in equal parts–They wouldn’t have it any other way.</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Moroad MC Series #2</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Cam Farrell, president of the Moroad Motorcycle Club, struggles to adjust to living on the outside after spending the last eighteen months in prison. Pressured to confess to his part in the crime of bringing his son into the club, he must make drastic changes to stay ahead of the law and prove to Christina he will never leave her again. The noose tightens as he faces the possibility of losing everything he's worked for within the Moroad MC. Can he save his club, his woman, his son, and his life?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Some people in Federal call Christina insane for loving a criminal, but Cam's presence has always provided her with an inner strength she's found nowhere else. Christina's worries increase when Cam arrives home more hardened, more violent, and more determined to continue the life of crime that has dictated his life. Caught between her fear of losing him and forcing Cam to fulfill his promises, Christina must face the truth. Love has no boundaries and some things are better off staying buried.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Can we go home?" Christina gathered her hair to the side and picked the helmet off the seat. "Please."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Cam tapped the pack of smokes against his hand, then took one out and lit it. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what that guy did to you."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"God, Cam. Just drop it." She fastened the helmet and shook her head in anger. "It was nothing. You didn't have to threaten his life. All you're doing is making it worse."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Do I need to kill him?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"No!"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Then what did he—"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"He asked if I needed help. If I was safe with you." She crossed her arms. "It's the same thing I hear every time I go to town. You want to know why I don't like coming into Federal? That's why. Suddenly, everyone knows I'm the woman who lives with a convict. I don't even know that man. I don't know anyone, but everyone in town knows who you are. They ask if I'm okay and need any help every time I'm here. I can't just walk into the store anymore and be invisible. The town is too small, and I seem to be everyone's favorite topic for the last year and a half."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was a convict. Small town or not, no matter where he went, people would always sidestep away from him because he spent time in prison. He liked people keeping their distance. The less people in his business, the better. What he didn't like hearing was how it drew people to Christina, instead of frightening them away.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"That's one thing you're going to have to deal with, baby." He inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out slowly. "I am who I am."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I went my whole adult life staying away from people. When you left, you made the front page of the newspaper." She held up her fingers and quoted the air. "President of Moroad Motorcycle Club charged with being a felon in possession of a loaded weapon. Armed and dangerous."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He raised his brows. Out of his long list of crimes, carrying a pistol was the least of his concern. "Talk will settle down. It always does."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I know." She laughed to cover a sob. "I just…"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He gave her time, but she held back. "What?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"It hurts." She patted her chest. "Before you left none of this mattered. If people looked at me longer or whispered, I ignored them because I had you to come home to. I don't have you anymore."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I'm here."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She tilted her head. "Are you? Cause since you've been home it feels like you left the man I know back in prison and gave me someone I no longer recognize."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He hooked her neck, bringing her to his chest. "We'll get through this."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Bestselling Romance Author, Debra Kayn lives with her family at the foot of the Bitterroot Mountains in beautiful Northern Idaho. She enjoys riding motorcycles, playing tennis, fishing, photography, and creating chaos for the men in the garage.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When Debra was nineteen years old, a man kissed her without introducing himself. When they finally came up for air, the first words out of his mouth were...will you have my babies? Considering Debra's weakness for a sexy, badass man, who is strong enough to survive her attitude, she said yes. A quick wedding at the House of Amour and four babies later, she's living her own unbelievable romance book.</i></span><br />
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-28299983798986378342015-04-06T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-06T00:30:00.722-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Scorched by Sarah O'Rourke!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Life after marriage was everything that William “Devil” Delancy was all that
he wanted it to be and more. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was,
until his sweet, amazing (and slightly scary!) wife Molly decided to do the
impossible -- arrange the wedding of his drama queen assistant! </span></i></div>
<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">
</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The question soon becomes...will the always-in-control Devil lose Molly to
the wedding plans that are quickly falling apart, or will he be able to pull
out all of the scorching sexual charms he’s known for and bring her back to the
dark side?</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Romantic erotica comedy at its best!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">New Release...ONLY 99 pennies for a limited time! 42K words - sequel to
Sizzle, but also is a STANDALONE!</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Sizzle</u> </b></span></i><i><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Scorched</u></b></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Moaning as Devil palmed one warm globe and lifted it to his mouth, Molly
watched him envelope her nipple, twirling his tongue around the hardened peak
and watching as it drew even tighter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“God!” she gasped as he delivered the same treatment to the opposite
breast, “I love it when you do that.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>“Tits like these deserve to be worshiped, darlin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And believe me, I could kneel at this altar
all night, but you’ve got so many more curves that I want to explore,” Devil
rumbled in his velvety voice as he rained kisses over the upper curves of her
breasts.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Molly felt like she was being both bathed in pleasure and showered by
bliss as Devil traveled the hills and valleys of her body, exploring every inch
of flesh with his damp lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He paused
every once in a while to lavish attention on certain locales, but mostly his
mouth remained on the move, content to map her body with gentle touches of his
lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was slow and sensual, and
everything a woman could ask for in a lover.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Her legs moved restlessly against his as he reached the curve of her
belly and hunger unlike anything she’d experienced before began to claw at her
as Devil’s soft lips lingered over her belly button, his devilish tongue
flicking that ticklish spot playfully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Writhing underneath her husband’s marauding lips, Molly giggled as her
fingers speared Devil’s hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Stop
that!” she gasped, twisting underneath him as their legs tangled together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>“Tell me I’m a sex god, then,” Devil demanded, flicking her belly button
again and pulling a high pitched squeal from his wife.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>“Are you crazy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not!”
Molly laughed, attempting to turn away from him onto her belly.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Holding Molly flat on her back with one splayed palm against her torso,
Devil grinned against her skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Say
it,” he demanded, moving his mouth lower, his breath teasing against her
sensitive folds. “Say it or you earn a punishment,” he warned teasingly,
lifting his head long enough to give his wife a roguish grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Molly’s eyes lit up at his not-so-scary threat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Licking her lips slowly as her body undulated
beneath his, she shook her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No,”
she clipped tartly, privately knowing that his ‘punishment’ would deliver
nothing but the most sinful pleasure.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>“No, huh?” Devil drawled, one eyebrow arching as he considered his wife
beneath him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Is my Molly feeling sassy
tonight?” he asked, popping his open palm against her neatly trimmed
pussy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hearing her low moan, Devil
grinned again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Tell me, baby, am I
going to need to fuck that sass right out of you?”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 118%;"><i>Molly offered her husband a sexy smile and cocked her head on the pillow
as she stared up at him and said the three words guaranteed to drive him
wild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If you can.”</i></span></div>
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<i style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sarah O’Rourke are 2 of my fave authors, I’d love to be a fly on the wall when this pair are writing.</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We re-visit Molly & Devil, together now for two years and a with a darling baby daughter and their life is far removed from when they first got together but whats definitely there is their love for each other.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Devil knows he’s no longer the centre of Molly’s world and he’s fine with his daughter coming first, but he’s not willing to queue up behind a gay wedding, friends and other peoples drama and he has no problem letting everybody know how he feels.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So off we’re taken on a hilarious journey of misunderstandings, blue balls and a roller coaster of emotions from everybody involved. I love this gang, the witty banter, the inside jokes and the way they interact is awesome to read, my jaw ached from smiling huge.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This can be read as a standalone but you get so much more out of this group if you’ve read Sizzle, amazing follow up to an already amazing story, give it a go, you won’t be disappointed.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>4 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sarah O'Rourke is the alter ego of
two best friends who bonded over their passion for romantic fiction and
erotica. Born and raised in the southern United States, one lives near Ft.
Campbell, Kentucky, while the other resides in Atlanta, Georgia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Formerly an accountant and a chemist, they
are now overworked, stay-at-home moms who adore their children, their
husbands...and writing about love in every way possible.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Inspired by their dog-eared copies
of Gone with the Wind and their almost warped DVDs of Steel Magnolias, they
love to write wildly intense romantic/erotica stories that have multiple
characters, but they focus on one couple that will ALWAYS have a happy
ending…eventually!</i></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-66025382555900858642015-04-02T00:30:00.000-05:002015-04-02T00:30:00.818-05:00RELEASE BLITZ ~ The Final Temptation by K.C. Lynn!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aChijuufALM/VRcVCgysgRI/AAAAAAAAATQ/-1PtA099HtY/s1600/TFT3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aChijuufALM/VRcVCgysgRI/AAAAAAAAATQ/-1PtA099HtY/s1600/TFT3.jpg" height="237" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJf3ZLeIlZw/VQTDECx-NnI/AAAAAAAAARY/mP-I6HqKU34/s1600/synopsis%2Brevised.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJf3ZLeIlZw/VQTDECx-NnI/AAAAAAAAARY/mP-I6HqKU34/s1600/synopsis%2Brevised.jpg" height="139" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>KAYLA</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He moved in next door to me, all bronzed skin and lean muscle,
with a panty dropping smile that could make any girl weep with need. He
set my body and teenage hormones on fire for three years. THREE LONG
YEARS.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>In that time he became a cop- Officer Sexy as I liked to
call him- and every time I pushed, he retreated. But I knew he felt it, I
saw it in the way he looked at me. So one night I set my plan in motion
and upped my game. I finally reeled the sexy bastard in, and he didn’t
know what hit him.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>COOPER</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She tempted me with her smart mouth and
tight body for three painful years. I took an oath to uphold the law
and honor it, which she made almost impossible not to break. But when
the day finally came, I made her pay, every beautiful inch of her. She
might drive me crazy and be the biggest pain in the ass, but she’s my
pain in the ass. And I’ll spend everyday for the rest of my life making
sure she never forgets who she belongs to. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>***</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>You asked for
our story and now we are going to give it to you. Cooper and I are not
only going to share our special day with you, but we are going to take
you back to a time that was frustrating, sexy, explosive and downright
beautiful. </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Here is our story, from beginning to… forever.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This is a
Novella with an HEA and is told in dual POV. It is the last book to the
Men Of Honor Series. Although you don’t have to read every book in the
series, I strongly recommend that the first book, Fighting Temptation,
should be read prior to Kayla and Cooper’s story in order to understand
many aspects of this book.</i></span><br />
<br />
<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">***</i><br />
<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>WARNING</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Due to mature subject matter,
such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is
not suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen.</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>The moment his control
snapped.</i></span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We stare at each other for a
long moment, the air thick with tension. His hands still grip my arms tightly
when something passes between us, something powerful. </i></span></div>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You know what? Fuck it!”
Then suddenly it happens, the one thing I have been wanting from him, for three
long years. He kisses me, his mouth crashing to mine, hard, hot and
demanding. </i></span></div>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oh god. My knees go weak and a whimper escapes me at the
first sweep of his tongue. His taste—his incredible, masculine taste—floods my
senses and sets my body on fire. I waste no time giving just as good as I get.
My fingers weave into his hair with a grip that draws a growl from him and I
match him stroke for every desperate stroke, taking what I have ached for, what
I have dreamed about for so long.</i></span></div>
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</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Catching me off guard, Cooper
picks me up by my ass and walks us a few steps. I hear a bunch of shit crash to
the floor before my back suddenly meets the cold, hard surface of his kitchen
table. We never break the kiss, our mouths devouring one another, our tongues
dueling a beautiful battle of frustration and pure, hot lust. My lungs crave
oxygen but I can’t stop, I don’t want to, I need more. I rip open his uniform
shirt and the tiny buttons fly all over the place. My hands slip beneath his
undershirt and roam over the smooth, hard plains of his abs.</i></span></div>
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</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>With a groan he rips his
mouth from mine, and starts trailing his lips down my throat. “You drive me
fucking crazy!” he growls. “The way you torment my dick, prancing around this
tight, little body of yours. Testing every measure of my control!”</i></span></div>
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</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>And I finally snapped it.
Thank the Lord!</i></span></div>
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<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">K.C. Lynn is a small town girl living in Western Canada. She married her
high school sweetheart and they have four amazing children: two lovely
girls and a set of handsome twin boys. It was her love for romance books
that gave K.C. the courage to sit down and write her own novel. When
she is not in her writing cave, pounding out new characters and stories,
she can be found living between the pages of a book, meeting new
tattooed, hot alpha males with very big…Hearts. </span></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My name is Ally Prince and I've always been unlucky in love. I don’t know why, I just always… have.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When all of my best friends were falling for their soul mates in College, I was left behind. I was Ally, the pretty cousin of superstar quarterback, Romeo Prince. I was Ally, the best friend to the most amazing group of girls I've ever known—a title I loved, but one I became tired of 'just' being. And I was Ally, the one on which they could all rely.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But to me, I was Ally, the girl with the heart no one had claimed... And I was, Ally, the girl, who underneath it all, was heart-breakingly lonely.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I LOVE love; the thought of it, the nervous excitement of falling for Mr. Right, the desire of someone becoming my entire world... of me becoming theirs. I’ve always wanted passion, heart-stopping, epic, life-changing romance... I’ve always wanted the fairytale… I’ve always wanted it all.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It just never seemed like I would get it.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>For the past few years I've thrown myself into my career as a museum curator. I’m the best of the best, the person every museum wants to hire, so when an opportunity came up to move to Seattle, I jumped at the chance. My cousin and my best friend lived in Seattle and I needed a change. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I needed a new beginning.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I wasn't expecting to meet anyone in the Emerald City. I wasn't expecting to work closely with the reclusive new sculptor my all-important gallery design was centered around. And I certainly wasn't expecting to fall for him... heart-stopping, epic, life-changing love...</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My real life fairytale come true.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But, like in every fairytale, there’s a villain, a dark and tortured soul... I just didn't know that the villain and the hero in my story would end up being one and the same.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>New Adult Romance Novel—contains adult content, sexual situations and mature topics. Suited for ages 18 and up. </b></span></span></div>
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<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Hope is the story of Ally (Rome's cousin who we met in the first two books of the Sweet Home series) and Axel (Austin's older brother whose story was told in Sweet Fall). </span></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">Since graduating from college Ally has been pursuing her dream of being an art curator. When Ally is presented with the opportunity to interview for a curator's position for an artist that Ally is obsessed with she jumps on a plane and heads straight to Seattle! Having seen the art display previously Ally can't help but hope that this opportunity would also allow her to meet the reclusive artist himself. When Ally lands the curator job in Seattle to showcase her beloved Elpi's sculptures she is beyond excited. Not only is she hoping to finally meet the elusive artist but she also sees it as an opportunity to catch up with her college besties who both live in Seattle. </span></i></i></span></div>
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<i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">After being released from prison with a reduced sentence for testifying against other gang members all Axel wants to do is mend the relationship with his younger brothers. Axel finds the opportunity to be close to his brothers in Seattle when his art mentor pushes him to allow his sculptures to be showcased in Seattle. Axel's artistic talent was realized while he was incarcerated but no one aside from his mentor knows his true identity. In the art world he is only know as Elpi. </span></i></div>
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<i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">When Ally finds out that Elpi is actually the brother of one of her college best friend's husbands she has to put her previous judgements aside and dig deep in to the man Axel/Elpi really is. </span></i></div>
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<i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">This is a beautiful story about the love one has for family and the sacrifices one is willing to make to assure they are cared for. I couldn't help but cheer these two on as more and more of Axel's dark past is revealed. I shed many tears while reading Ally and Axel's story.</span></i></div>
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<i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">I can't wait to see what Tillie Cole has in store for us next! Personally I would love to see a few other Sweet Home boys get their happily ever after! </span></i></div>
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<i style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: start;">5 Books Knocked Off!</span></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Elpidio, I didn’t think you were coming,” she said, all flustered, her hand over her chest.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Fuck me, she was gorgeous. I’d thought so last night, but now, like this...?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I held her stare, watching as her chest began to rise and fall under my attention, it went faster and faster the longer we held gazes. Long dark lashes fluttered in nerves and my fists involuntary clenched together against my chest at the action. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Elpi,” I reminded her icily.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Aliyana’s eyes flared with embarrassment and her face flushed even more than before. She reached up to play with her hair. At the sudden movement, her partly unbuttoned shirt gaped at the neck, allowing me to glimpse her tan skin and the top of her firm tits under her white lace bra. I almost groaned at the sight, but I was rooted to the spot, just fucking dumbstruck by this chick.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m sorry, Elpi,” she rushed out. “You did remind me about your name last night. I wasn’t thinking.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I immediately felt like a dick on hearing the apology in her soft voice, but I stayed silent as Aliyana hurried to switch the music off.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I remained frozen to the spot as she took a long deep breath, her back to me, shoulders tensed as a deafening silence hit us both. But she pulled herself together and turned to me with that beautiful smiling face of hers.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m so happy you made it,” she said, moving toward me. Her dark eyes ran down my body, from my messy long hair to my clay-covered black shirt and black ripped jeans. Aliyana’s full pink lips twitched, two deep-set dimples on either cheek popping out. Hesitantly, she reached up her hand toward the ends of my hair. Every part of me froze and my breath clogged my throat as I watched her swallow nervously.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It’d been years since a woman had touched me. And never one that looked like her.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>As her slim finger drifted past my cheek, I caught her scent… jasmine. Mamma used to burn jasmine incense in the trailer. I didn’t know if that was the reason, but for the first time in a long time, I felt myself relax around someone. Strangely, it felt like home.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Aliyana took a piece of my hair between her index finger and thumb. Her pink lips parted slightly and her warm breath spread all over my face. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I… liked her this close… touching me. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>A second later, Aliyana pulled away her hand and she held it up in front of my eyes for me to see.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Marble,” she whispered, her dimples deepening as her lips gently pouted, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You must have been real busy today. You’re covered.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>As the curtains closed behind me, I jumped in surprise when I caught movement ahead. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My eyes slowly traveled upward to a pair of legs clad in black jeans, to a sculpted waist and torso covered in a short-sleeved black shirt splashed in what looked like marble dust.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My heart was in my throat as I drank in large arm muscles, sculpted and pronounced under heavily tattooed olive skin. My gaze drifted to a muscular tattooed neck, partially covered by a dark short scruffy beard and shoulder-length dark brown hair.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Elpidio… </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I had to blink to believe the man I’d wanted to meet for years was really standing right in front of me. I forgot how to breathe. I forgot how to speak, move, or anything else that should come naturally to a human being.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Elpidio’s head was down, avoiding my gaze, but I knew he knew I was there. Every inch of his body was taut, as if ready to spring. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My voice failed to work as I watched his broad chest rise and fall. Then, with deliberate slowness, he exhaled harshly through his nostrils and lifted his head.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I nearly staggered back. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was… dark. There was no other adjective I could think of to do him justice. Dark, aggressively tattooed, and absolutely yet unconventionally… beautiful.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Elpidio was as inspiring to look at as his sculptures, and when his almost-black eyes pierced mine, I released a pent up shuddering breath. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I thought my legs would give way as I watched those curious onyx irises rove all over my body. I trembled under his scrutiny, knees weak, heart fluttering.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Italian, I thought. Austin had been right. Elpidio definitely looked Italian.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It felt as though minutes passed in silence as we stood motionless, not knowing what to say. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Trying to salvage a modicum of professionalism, I snapped out of my stupor and stepped forward, timidly holding out my hand. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Hello…” I said in a cracking voice. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Elpidio’s stern gaze never once drifted from mine, his dark eyes stabbing. “I’m Aliyana. You… you must be Elpidio?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>In a second, I witnessed paleness spread on his cheeks and his eyes dropped to the ground, his shoulder-length brown hair falling to cover his face. He was protecting his anonymity. Vin had told me how uncomfortable he was with any acclaim or recognition. His mentor clearly wasn’t lying.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“It’s okay,” I rushed out. “I’m the curator of your exhibition. Your being here stays with me. I’m ethically bound to protect your anonymity if you so wish.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Elpidio’s shoulders seemed to relax some at that, and sighing reluctantly, he raked back his long hair from his face and raised his head. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This time I could see him more clearly. He was ruggedly edgy, and on his left cheek, he wore a tattoo of a black crucifix just below his eye. He simply screamed danger. His eyes were unnervingly assessing as though he had no trust in me, or toward anyone else for that matter. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Suddenly, Elpidio reached forward and encased his hand in mine. When our hands touched, I lightly gasped, the heat of his palm searing. I’d forgotten I’d been holding my hand out to greet him, too entranced by his unrefined looks and silent temperament.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> “Aliyana,” he said gruffly. My heart skipped a beat on hearing his husky drawl.</i></span></span></div>
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<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Amazon & USA Today Best Selling Author, Tillie Cole is a Northern girl through and through. She originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother — a farmer’s daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals and horses.</span></i><br />
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-16102071320558183692015-04-01T08:30:00.000-05:002015-04-01T08:30:00.959-05:00COVER REVEAL ~ Fury by Fisher Amelie!<div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The much anticipated release of Fisher Amelie's third standalone installment of The Seven Deadly Series, FURY, finally has a release date! </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Stay tuned below for the reveals of her new covers for VAIN and GREED, a chapter from FURY, as well as the heart-stopping trailer for FURY, due out <span data-term="goog_1384457009">May 4th, 2015</span>.</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Fury-May-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Fury May 4" class="aligncenter size-large wp-image-8199" src="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Fury-May-4-1024x1024.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4849669.Fisher_Amelie" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS2LL4BOMIj0f2AeZblhewyf7-AdKbeMxwRpHt7i-urINcbM82ziQl7pmwdCplRL63gkatNcb_QgplOoVhFbAo3eX0ToOMYZ_yu-TdWWcMHNujhSN_8w0HehZ8CMA5bRbwDDzDdPJ2Oc/s1600/GOODREADS.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><u>Prepare Yourselves.</u></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Revenge is an euphoric thing. Trust me on this. Nothing compares to the release you get when you ruin someone’s life. When they’ve stolen important things. Things that didn’t belong to them. Things I revel in making them pay for. What? Have I offended you? I’m not here to appeal to your delicate senses. I have no intention of placating your wishes or living within your personal belief system nor do I care if you hate me. And you will hate me. Because I’m a brutal, savage, cold-blooded murderer and I’m here for my revenge. I’m Ethan Moonsong...And this is the story about how I went from the world’s most sacrificing man to the most feared and why I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>The new cover for the first standalone in The Seven Deadly Series:</i></span></h2>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">VAIN.</span></h2>
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<strong><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/VAIN-Standalone-1-Fisher-Amelie-ebook/dp/B00ATRCQV0/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8">Amazon</a> ** <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/vain-fisher-amelie/1114033986?ean=2940016131375">Barnes and Noble</a></i></span></strong></h2>
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<i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The new cover for the second standalone in The Seven Deadly Series:</span></i></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;">GREED.</span></span></h2>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/GREED-Series-Standalone-Fisher-Amelie-ebook/dp/B00G9A5U5A/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=173TTHGX3Y82CV1PMH72">Amazon</a> ** <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/greed-fisher-amelie/1117255040?ean=2940148589921">Barnes and Noble</a></i></span></strong></h2>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: x-large;"><i><b><u>FURY</u></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I heard a snap and the light cracked on, piercing through my closed lids. My head pounded and I groaned then rolled over, pulling my cover over my head to drown out the source of my pain.
“Get up,” a deep voice commanded. “Get up,” he continued, kicking my shoe.
“Dad,” I rasped. “I’m hungover and feel like shit.”
He was silent for a moment so I pulled the cover down just enough to see his face. He was not amused.
“Ethan, watch your language, get your butt up, and find a job.” I didn’t answer him. I had nothing to say that would please him. “And while you’re at it, stop this ridiculous drinkin’, son.”
I sat up, ran my hands through my long black hair and wrapped the length around my fist. I sat back against the wall, reveling in how cool it was, and tried not to vomit.
“Did you see them today?” I asked him, unable to help myself.
My dad removed his hat and leaned against the jamb, scrubbing his face with his free hand. “You like to torture yourself,” he said, shaking his head then sighing. “You remind me so much of your mama.”
The mere mention of my mother sent me spiraling down once more in depression. We’d lost her a few years before and I was still in agony. That, coupled with the fact that Spencer Blackwell stole my girl right out from underneath my nose, was enough for me to drink to excess every night. I hate him.
“Are they,” I swallowed, afraid of his answer, “are they together now?”
My father sighed again. “Ethan, get dressed.”
“Are they?” I asked again, letting my hand drop to my side. My hair slid with it and cascaded down my back.
“You are a stubborn boy. Yes, okay? Yes, they’re together. All the more reason to move on, son.”
My body suddenly weighed a thousand pounds and I felt my head reeling. So it was true then. They were together and they would probably get married and I was going to have to sit there in that godforsaken small town and watch it all happen. I was going to get a front row seat to my own misery.
I nodded once, rested my hands on my knees for a brief moment, then ran past my dad, shouldering him as I did so and nearly knocking him over before making it to the small bathroom across the hall and retching everything in my stomach into the toilet.
My dad stood in the bathroom doorway shaking his head in disappointment. When I was done, I fell back into the wall. That look shamed me to my core. Any time my dad felt let down, I felt the weight of my disgrace so heavy the only thing I could think to dull the ache was to drink myself into a stupor. It was a vicious cycle.
I let my hair cascade over my face. I heard the old wood floor creak beneath his feet as he left without another word and jumped when the front door slammed. My eyes closed as my head pounded.
The claw foot tub sat to my left so I leaned up and turned on the water, slowly removing my clothing one piece at time. Each movement felt like a hammer slamming into my head.
“God,” I groaned. “I am an idiot.”
I stood then stepped underneath the warm water and just stood in silence, letting the water absorb into my hair and seep into my skin. I breathed in the steam deeply. I was miserable. Not just physically but my heart was the heaviest it’d felt since my mom passed and I had no one to blame but Spencer Blackwell for that.
The asshole who rode into my life under the guise of helping his sister only to yank what I thought was a stable foundation right out from underneath me. He stole from me, a bona fide thief, and I wanted to make him pay. No, I needed to make him pay.
But how?
I finished showering and threw a towel around my waist, stepping from the tub and toppling onto my bed when I reached my room and fell to sleep, not even bothering to dress myself. I fell quickly, fantasizing about my revenge.
I must have slept for hours because when I woke, it was pitch black outside. I rolled onto my side and checked my alarm clock. Eleven o’clock. Perfect timing, I thought.
I sat up and tucked my towel around my waist a little tighter, stood and went straight for my dresser. I grabbed a pair of boxers and socks and put those on before heading for my closet and tossing an old, worn pair of jeans on, a thermal and an old tee. I brushed my teeth, grabbed my wallet and keys, threw on my boots and headed toward my piece of shit truck.
I knew exactly where I was going because it was where I planned on going every night until I forgot about Caroline Hunt.
My truck started but barely and I tore out of our driveway not bothering with my seatbelt, kicking up dust and rocks as my tires spun against the loose gravel. I’d replaced my stereo because I couldn’t stand radio, at least not Kalispell radio, and plugged my phone into the audio cable. Bastille’s Dreams remake blasted and I turned it up, letting the painful lyrics wash over me, fueling my desire to get plastered as quickly as possible.
I entertained myself with thoughts of strangling Spencer Blackwell with both hands then beating the crap out of him with my fists. Bastard. I pulled into the local pub and put my piece into park before tucking my left foot into the emergency brake.
I disconnected my phone and the stereo went silent, reminding me of how alone I really was. I turned the engine off and absolute silence surrounded me. I couldn’t take it. My door creaked with age as it swung open and I slammed it shut, unable not to. The fury raging in my blood was more than I could contain.
Before heading inside, my hand went to the empty space between the cab and the bed and searched for the bottle of whiskey I always had wedged in between. I took a large swig, not wanting to spend too much of my savings on the liquor inside the crap establishment. After all, I was going to need it. Revenge was a costly business.
I took one more swig for good measure and wedged it back in its usual place then wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve. My hair swung heavy in my eyes. It was still a little wet from my shower and I thought about tying it back with the extra leather tie I usually kept in my glove compartment but thought better of it. It helped me hide and I wanted to hide.
I looked around me. The lot was full but I only recognized a few cars this time which was good because I had no intention of making conversation. Regardless, most of Kalispell had stopped trying because I’d rarely done any responding since Cricket cut out my fucking heart and ate it raw. The hair was only insurance.
I took two deep draws of air, gulping it down, desperate for it to soothe me but, of course, it didn’t. I let each escape my lips in shaky breaths and clenched my fists over and over before deciding to head inside.
My boots crunched the gravel beneath my feet as I headed toward the door. When I entered, I ducked my head toward the floor and let my hair cover me, not that it did any good other than to conceal me. I could still feel the heat of their stares, though, still feel the pity in their gazes. I wanted so badly to yell at them to fuck off but I kept as much composure as possible. I couldn’t get kicked out of the only real bar in Kalispell.
I picked a stool at the end of the bar, the same stool I always did in the corner and in the back because it was dark. I sat and met Vi’s eyes. She sauntered over to me, placing her elbows on the bar top, giving me a clear view of her generous chest. I held back my eye roll.
“Hello, darlin’,” she drawled. “You look like shit.”
“The usual, Vi,” I told her as quietly as I could.
“How ‘bout a kiss then first?” she asked, leaning in a bit more.
“Christ, Vi, how many times? Huh? Just get me the gosh damn drink.”
She laughed. “Already worked up then, I see. I like it,” she said, winking.
Vi, or Violet, was thirty-nine years old, had lived in Kalispell her entire life, and had worked as a bartender for over fifteen years. I could tell at one time Vi had been a beautiful woman but I could also tell she had heard many hollow promises from equally hollow men and that she obviously believed them all. Otherwise, why would she still be there? I watched her tired eyes and her slightly too-forced smile. She had the look of someone who used to be chased but had graduated to the chaser. She looked miserable.
She left and returned with an empty glass and a bottle of Jack. She set the glass on the bar and filled it to the brim. She was being generous. She was always this way. She told me once she hoped I would drink it all away and decide to take her up on her offer. I told her that would be a cold day in hell, to which she only laughed.
“Drink up, buttercup,” she said, smiling lasciviously.
“I will,” I told the bar top.
I watched the world around me through the breaks in the hanging strands and six glasses later, I was starting to finally feel numb. I lifted my head a little feeling slightly relieved, feeling like I could breathe a little deeper now that the ache wasn’t so severe. I continued to search the crowd, not knowing who I was really looking for.
A quiet but persistent nagging awareness took residence in my chest for some unknown reason as I watched a girl dance on her own in the middle of the dance floor. Others around her paid no attention to her but she was the first person my eyes were drawn to. I studied her.
Her hair was tucked into a blue scarf, little tendrils peeking through and grazing across her neck whenever she moved. She was extraordinarily tall and her hips and rear end were more indulgent than I’d ever considered before. She turned slightly, giving me her silhouette. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were full. She was beautiful, I could tell, even if I couldn’t see her fully through the low lights.
“Jeez,” I said, swiping a hand down my face. “I’ve had too much.”
But I still couldn’t stop watching her. She wore worn jean cut offs, a fitted button up with the sleeves rolled up her forearms and ankle boots. She rolled her shoulders playfully, enticing someone she knew just off the dance floor. Another girl joined her side and they did the robot. She threw her head back and laughed.
This shocked me almost sober. “That laugh,” I whispered to myself. “That laugh,” I repeated. I knew it but couldn’t quite place it.
She took her friend’s hand and twirled her around the floor vivaciously. She was so full of life. So my exact opposite.
She lightheartedly skipped in place and raised an arm in salute to her friend before turning toward me.
That’s when I got a good, clear look at her. I gasped out loud and placed my hand on the back of my head, my elbow on the bartop, ducking my head down lower to hide myself further.
Please, please, please do not recognize me, I thought, still watching her from the corner of my eye.
She stood two seats down from me. “Vi!” she said, laughing a little. “Vi!”
Vi turned toward her. “Hey, baby! What’ll it be?”
“Can I have a water, please?” she asked, sitting down and releasing a breath of exhaustion. She continued to smile, though, and it ate a little at my gut.
“Of course,” Vi answered and started to pour water into a clear plastic cup. Vi’s eyes pinched a little. “Hey?” she said.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“How come I never see you drink anything harder?”
Her face fell a little but picked right back up. No one would have noticed it but me. “I’ve never had good luck with alcohol,” she admitted a bit sadly.
Vi was quick enough to recognize something there that didn’t want to be said and let it go with a nod, handing over the water without another word.
“Vi!” someone else called out and she walked their direction.
She took a long drink from her water and set it down, turning toward the crowd and surveying the dancers. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, some private joke she shared with herself.
I looked on her for a long time. Long enough for my heart to calm itself. Long enough to struggle with myself in an internal argument. Finally, I decided that I wasn’t watching her because I found her attractive, though I knew she was. Only that I was wondering what she was doing there.
She turned around in her seat after catching her breath and glanced at me. For a moment, I believed she didn’t recognize me but I was wrong. A second scan confirmed it for her. She leaned in and narrowed her eyes. Shit.
“Ethan?” she asked. “Is that you?”
“Hello, Finley,” I answered.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Fisher Amelie resides in the South with her kick ace husband slash soul mate. She earned her first 'mama' patch in 2009. She also lives with her Weim, 'Jonah', and her Beta, 'Whale'. All these living creatures keep the belly of her life full, sometimes to the point of gluttony, but she doesn't mind all that much because life isn't worth living if it isn't entertaining, right?
Fisher is the author of The Seven Deadly Series, The Sleepless Series, and Leaving Series, and was a semi-finalist in Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Award.</i></span><br />
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-42008217011856528082015-03-18T08:56:00.000-05:002015-03-18T08:56:06.926-05:00COVER REVEAL ~ Holding You by Kelly Elliott!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Release Date 5th May 2015</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24704789-holding-you" style="background-color: black;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS2LL4BOMIj0f2AeZblhewyf7-AdKbeMxwRpHt7i-urINcbM82ziQl7pmwdCplRL63gkatNcb_QgplOoVhFbAo3eX0ToOMYZ_yu-TdWWcMHNujhSN_8w0HehZ8CMA5bRbwDDzDdPJ2Oc/s1600/GOODREADS.jpg" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Lauren Reynolds wanted only two things in life—to run her father’s horse breeding business and Colt Matthews. Fearing Colt would take her position within the family business, she tried to push him far away from her heart.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">When life could no longer keep Lauren and Colt apart, their two worlds became one. Every second of every moment, they spent together. Their love bloomed into something neither of them imagined—a bond so strong Lauren and Colt believed nothing would ever stand in their way.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">However, life threw a cruel twist into Colt and Lauren’s planned happily ever after. Will fate let them live out the life they dreamed of, or will one of them be left alone, lost and angry?</i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;"></i></span><br />
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’ll spend forever holding you … even if it’s only in my memory.”</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </b><i><b><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">EXCLUSIVE iBOOKS PREORDER</span></b></i></span><br />
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<a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/holding-you/id954483066?mt=11" style="background-color: black;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1Q1scGsym2AY4cKtaimgi3OSx837kJMVerD22zMlQOMOny3hxSO7TZ_WN6vuzt1Uk50GBUxgzKpDxaLYq1ey9hf605Kr1A-eAj4CF8SM1elb_rDvSLH3lPcN8_XNsJFLQ4R0rfIOYIY/s1600/iBOOKS.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuefgtBvhiQj8KGr2PfPc0Ryg1ZMGuKgB9CjAP1i-M9Ty82AMhtA98xoRrW8BuYSSpRNSl9_dHdTyIJnrmhcCQ-bpQiEYk7cItNHL2qYE3paDFNSli93gd8VQ_feu8xq1l-_QPMjB1p4/s1600/B+EXCERPT.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuefgtBvhiQj8KGr2PfPc0Ryg1ZMGuKgB9CjAP1i-M9Ty82AMhtA98xoRrW8BuYSSpRNSl9_dHdTyIJnrmhcCQ-bpQiEYk7cItNHL2qYE3paDFNSli93gd8VQ_feu8xq1l-_QPMjB1p4/s1600/B+EXCERPT.png" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">“I’m headed back to A&M tonight, Lauren. Come with
me.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Pulling back, I looked into his eyes. They were filled
with a passion I’d never seen before. My mouth opened, but words wouldn’t form.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “What are you saying, Colt?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">If there was one thing Colt Mathews could do, and do
well, was swoon the hell out of me with his smile. And boy was he swooning me
right now. My knees felt weak as Colt flashed me that smile that I had fallen
in love with a few years back. That stupid crooked smile that I dreamed about
every single night.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSP784JY36sClce60ytzfkIRNYSGZVzcL8GsIZ-PSv-0pC_dVXHrd4QjIe61XSVMCF-IXn0jau_5BAUN7RgRmEv_p-EwjX50-RVl5zF-PlOnfMxPtHnf3ZezGZ_LTHB1gllW0lvgKCyG8/s1600/HYBack-300dpi-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSP784JY36sClce60ytzfkIRNYSGZVzcL8GsIZ-PSv-0pC_dVXHrd4QjIe61XSVMCF-IXn0jau_5BAUN7RgRmEv_p-EwjX50-RVl5zF-PlOnfMxPtHnf3ZezGZ_LTHB1gllW0lvgKCyG8/s1600/HYBack-300dpi-web.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></span></a><span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">“I’m asking you to let me make you mine, Lauren.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Holy
mother of God. Play it cool, Lauren. Play. It. Cool. Colt wants to make me his!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Swallowing hard, I asked … again, “What are you saying,
Colt?” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Colt chuckled. Pulling me closer to him, he moved his
lips to my ear. “I’ve been wanting to make to you mine for so long, Lauren. I
can’t bare to wait any longer.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">My lips parted open. “Me … um … I … I’ve never … ahh …
what about …” For the love of all things good. I can’t even form a sentence. My
mind was swirling with images of Colt making love to me. Colt naked. Colt
kissing my body. Colt touching my body. My eyes widened in horror. The one thing
I’ve wanted so badly for the last few years I was about to lose because I can’t
form a damn sentence. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Colt’s lifted his hand and brushed the back of it down my
face gently. “I’m scared too, Lauren. You’re the only woman I’ve ever dreamed
of being with.” Closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again,
he whispered. “I’ve never been with anyone, Lauren. My first time I wanted to
be with someone I cared about. Someone I loved.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Oh. My.
Glitter.</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #141823; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> Swoon alert! We
have a major swoon alert. My legs gave out and Colt grabbed a hold of me.
“Lauren, are you okay?” Colt asked as concern swept over his face. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i>“You waited for me? I mean, you’re … a …um? Wait, someone
you </i><i>love?” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Colt pulled me closer as he nodded. I felt his desire
pushing into my stomach. Something washed over me and I found my senes.
Grabbing onto his arms again, I smiled. “I’ve waited for you too, Colt. Every
time I dreamed of being with someone, I dreamt it was you.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i style="background-color: black;">Taking a few steps back, Colt winked at me as a wicked
grin grew across his face. “Follow my lead.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><i>Unedited and subject to change before publishing.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<b style="background-color: black;"><i><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Copyright 2015 Kelly Elliott </span></i></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0KFBrpS9jmXYNuWpUugsSPhfn-aXX3FIQ2zmPtcdFDctWWmlxuXrbntEfaKeL2I0Ky-_Q6BId5Wu25rKhUnkNqBG3cHqaPqosVq96JpgBavv8V_YLFvym4NyCaVTrAaxGzD2lrsju04/s1600/Kelly+Elliott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0KFBrpS9jmXYNuWpUugsSPhfn-aXX3FIQ2zmPtcdFDctWWmlxuXrbntEfaKeL2I0Ky-_Q6BId5Wu25rKhUnkNqBG3cHqaPqosVq96JpgBavv8V_YLFvym4NyCaVTrAaxGzD2lrsju04/s1600/Kelly+Elliott.jpg" height="283" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Kelly Elliott is married to a wonderful Texas cowboy who has
a knack for making her laugh almost daily and supports her crazy ideas and
dreams for some unknown reason...he claims it's because he loves her!<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She’s also a mom to an amazing daughter who is constantly
asking for something to eat while her fingers move like mad on her cell phone
sending out what is sure to be another very important text message.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>In her spare time she loves to sit in her small corner
overlooking the Texas hill country and write. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>One of her favorite things to do is go for hikes around her
property with Gus....her chocolate lab and the other man in her life, and Rose,
her golden retriever. When Kelly is not outside helping the hubby haul brush,
move rocks or whatever fun chore he has in store for her that day, you’ll find
her inside reading, writing or watching HGTV.<o:p></o:p></i></span><br />
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-18764646676099276062015-03-18T00:30:00.000-05:002015-03-18T00:30:00.215-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Yours Tonight by Joya Ryan!<br />
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b style="background-color: black;">He will give her everything she's ever wanted . . .
</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Jack Powell's confidence is matched only by his intensity. The darkness in him comes from
years of secrets and memories he'd rather forget. Lana has an exotic innocence that draws
him in and Jack wants a taste of her. She's a light in the darkness of his world - and she
needs help, which he agrees to give her.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b style="background-color: black;">The only rule? He makes the rules.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Lana gives up her control, letting Jack take her body however he needs, while she works
her way into his heart. But Jack's past catches up to them and Lana finds herself wrapped
up in a scheme that will expose every secret she's worked so hard to keep. She clung to
Jack once when her world was crashing down, but this time, she loves him. She'll continue
to reach for him - her only fear is if he'll reach back, or go on his way, taking her soul with
him . . .
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Addictive and unforgettable, Lana's story will seduce, surprise and stay with you. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">A
brand new trilogy by the #1 Bestselling author of Break Me Slowly, the Reign series is
an emotional rollercoaster you'll want to keep riding forever. </i></span></div>
</div>
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<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;">Brand new author for Piatkus Fiction - successful self-published and Entangled author
with a global voice comparable to Jodi Ellen Malpas, Kim Karr and JC Reed!</span></i></div>
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<i style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Her biggest book <b>BREAK ME SLOWLY</b> has sold over 80,000 copies and hit #4 for all Kindle
books, it reached #1 in Contemporary Fiction and Women's Fiction on Amazon, and hit
Amazon's top 100 in the UK and Canada in addition to the US success. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>POSSESS ME
SLOWLY</b> has been out just under 4 months and has sold around 14,000 copies, and
<b>CAPTURE ME SLOWLY</b> has been out 1 month and has already sold over 5,000 copies
(pricing was around $3-$4 in all cases).</i></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Joya Ryan writes dark, classic romance with traditionally bestselling themes such as
billionaire/boss hero, a virgin heroine and a love triangle. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"You look flushed," he said, his tone so raspy it made me want to tell him why.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"I was just thinking of something," I whispered, my gaze zeroing in on his mouth.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"Oh?" He took one step closer. "Care to share your thoughts?"
</i></span></div>
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<i style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I licked my lips . . . ready to share more than just the thoughts. He'd said earlier he
wondered what I</span></i></div>
<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: black;">tasted like. I was wondering the same about him.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"Is it easy for you? Telling the truth?" I asked.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"Generally."
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"How? Not that I lie, but I just don't know how you can say what you say."
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"You mean voice what I want?"
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"Yes." It was then it hit me. I wanted that. To be able to say what I wanted. Put a voice to
my fears. My desires. My everything. To have someone actually listen.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"It's a matter of worth over value," he said. "Any given thing has a value. I just decide
what it's worth to me to keep that value."
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">He took a step forward.
</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">"For example, you have a value. My silence wasn't worth you walking away."</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This was my first book by Joya Ryan and I was not disappointed in the least.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Love me some broken souls, fighting their demons and this book serves this up in spades.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I was totally gripped from the start, this author just had a way of drawing me in and not letting me go until I was rung out, reeling and thinking WTF!!!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Lana & Jack crackle with desire in the bedroom but almost crack under the strain out of it, they’re both holding back, not giving all of themselves for fear of the repercussions. Jack is one intense guy and he pushes Lana out of her comfort zone and gains her trust bit by bit, it’s gripping, suspenseful, off the charts hot and leaves you wanting more all the damn way through.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Joya deals with some dark issues in this book and I wasn’t sure Jack & Lana’s relationship was entirely healthy considering their pasts but there really was beauty in what they offered each other and I was itching for them to get their HEA and then, THEN…………………a freaking cliffhanger!!!!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I cannot believe I’m recommending a cliff hanger but this book is THAT good, it may chew you up & spit you out but gahhhh it’s worth every hot, steamy, angst filled minute!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>4.5 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<i style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">National and international bestselling author Joya Ryan is the author of the Shattered
series, which includes Break Me Slowly, Possess Me Slowly, and Capture Me Slowly. She has
also written the Sweet Torment series, which includes Breathe You In and Only You.
Passionate about both cooking and dancing (despite not being too skilled at the latter),
she loves spending time at home. Along with her husband and her two sons, she resides in
California. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Joya-Ryan-Author-Page/133316156822232?fref=ts" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoMzL6UV5UNkE47GpLmzSq9dZET-T48tQiQXFpuNHdk6ZcpoboruaS7o_aCa4c4092WAvD4npA4yWsEU7t-cHe4J6dj7bpeUQl1QZzANf2Bz0YjIugeFeHcZd1TXLAWKDxyWX6uvGi9xw/s1600/A+FACEBOOK.png" height="50" width="200" /></a><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6993109.Joya_Ryan" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTKej9aKFCjF64TM0jfiSq4qgnDXyTtuTEFOXAn8idJM31Bp65KsDu9KPcsegFnsxVCwmDM4AKyzxYBO6RhtVtYr0Je1TBv1wMSJcIM_hZQfddq0QdkKtNsyc4UxK67fCBL8c8KORX2s/s1600/A+GOODREADS.png" height="50" width="200" /></a></span><br />
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-24260801625371940412015-03-17T01:00:00.000-05:002015-03-17T14:26:41.337-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Soaring by Kristen Ashley!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Kristen Ashley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She grew up in Indiana, but has lived in Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she’s been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least), but loopy is good when you want to write.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Needless to say, living in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This was just KA at her very best, there’s nothing I like more than reading one of my favourite authors and actually being able to relate to the heroine’s story!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Amelia’s life falls apart when her husband cheats but she doesn’t max his credit cards and cut up his clothes, no she completely and utterly destroys everything good in her life trying to erase the bad! When she finally finds the strength to face head on what she needs to do, it’s like climbing Mount Kilimanjaro blindfolded, so she completely uproots what’s left of her life and embarks on the mission of getting back some normality in her life & righting her wrongs.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Enter Mickey ~ alpha male next door neighbour (swoon) A single dad with broken marriage problems of his own, he fights in the ring, he fights fires, he works construction (swoon swoon swoon).</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’s like the heaviest anchor in Amelias rough seas & when she finally confesses to him what she did to end up in her situation his response reduced me to a sobbing wreck, he just got it and despite his single mindedness at times he was just perfect for Amelia at this time in her life.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Their chemistry was off the charts, even when they fought, they crackled with electricity, I loved them together, I loved how they were with each others kids, how they approached their battles collectively, I absolutely, thoroughly enjoyed every single word, I struggled to put it down to sleep.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This story was just pure, undiluted KA, it was raw, emotional, heart breaking at times and Amelias strength of character was mind blowing, she could only truly deserve good things to come for her and it’s damn lucky KA is the queen of the HEA!</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>5 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMulKtYvZbu0xfJvkiuEwxutX3RCihClOWSaGqv1kz_pd2urDPyh079_gCAsEjtnz9dfjVToht1GVe39W3SH3sYSCfPWIdmTcC_nRTiFD2uR5EpwYlA9_wIu9RNLb9l_ODflRuGsn6eU4/s1600/B+STALKER+LINKS.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMulKtYvZbu0xfJvkiuEwxutX3RCihClOWSaGqv1kz_pd2urDPyh079_gCAsEjtnz9dfjVToht1GVe39W3SH3sYSCfPWIdmTcC_nRTiFD2uR5EpwYlA9_wIu9RNLb9l_ODflRuGsn6eU4/s1600/B+STALKER+LINKS.png" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<i style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kristen Ashley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She grew up in Indiana, but has lived in Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she’s been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least), but loopy is good when you want to write.</span></i><br />
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<i style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).</span></i></div>
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<i style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Needless to say, living in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.</span></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.kristenashley.net/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FVrooojlJN0MikBlNcYdinviPqVQbwOn8vjzpS6CnkuCYx0NkakxErbYYi00cnGg1f83ymieDv8s0sHWZ__DVZYYKXESe4NfCridi4ENyQ2rpym2TNsIDfkzL4tadjeZptxP3XaQLxE/s1600/A+WEBSITE.png" height="50" width="200" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kristenashleybooks?fref=ts" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBItlblQgLjDA_qVc4inpVwPMvBcYeIT5vHGqYvkV3a4msyd3BO4KvJlCwlzBei7Ch3HbKjdCpGiztI7aRLsl7bgv5bhjneO95HRtpuogBF5ds21PpPmP0XwJpBbPSRRioV4H76w0PzU/s1600/A+FACEBOOK.png" height="50" width="200" /></a><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2958084.Kristen_Ashley" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_zg37uCDlwFnJHwxl1UrHQIYgdyoOE_CILv0jaNYv1GIwuHkqcIJOU0vT9Y3jtrOH3l7rgYoG3AknNIp9NDhXU-YAj_B0B942S8viAlP9aYcM-NVqoPqPsU167MH3FPa9u7-zVJXQOI/s1600/A+GOODREADS.png" height="50" width="200" /></a><a href="https://twitter.com/search?q=kristen%20ashley&src=typd" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTdbMcTxtOCgrGAwcnREFrL1xOmjYP_fErpBeRaLm5zA4078M65LlJk7CXNkgjy5qVHWCIYo-Mw_Bno2SK2-EHQGFeVUPIvIuhmKHCspCNGedYJPj-DWMjcUM9BPkGkyewlgzY8bNsOPE/s1600/A+TWITTER.png" height="50" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-18616751479455501242015-03-17T00:30:00.000-05:002015-03-17T14:28:42.928-05:00BLOG TOUR ~ Hero by Samantha Young!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGY0gg5Vj1Uo_8-NUfEJa6YWiLYpauhoZCCt798d_SNSE80Hih3YlcmAiW_FVH_TFcA2VQ1tsl_0PyY1s_qH1-Ecgq-ydJbPb2DG9EIn68vdMG8muVnmbEm3bqbCuC8rgJIThsKxWx-U/s1600/Hero+Week+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGY0gg5Vj1Uo_8-NUfEJa6YWiLYpauhoZCCt798d_SNSE80Hih3YlcmAiW_FVH_TFcA2VQ1tsl_0PyY1s_qH1-Ecgq-ydJbPb2DG9EIn68vdMG8muVnmbEm3bqbCuC8rgJIThsKxWx-U/s1600/Hero+Week+2.jpg" height="640" width="452" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> Published on 5</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><sup>th</sup></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> March 2015 </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Paperback Original ~ £8.99</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Available in eBook now</i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23355069-hero?from_search=true" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS2LL4BOMIj0f2AeZblhewyf7-AdKbeMxwRpHt7i-urINcbM82ziQl7pmwdCplRL63gkatNcb_QgplOoVhFbAo3eX0ToOMYZ_yu-TdWWcMHNujhSN_8w0HehZ8CMA5bRbwDDzDdPJ2Oc/s1600/GOODREADS.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The explosive, emotional and unforgettable new romance from the NYT bestselling author of the On Dublin Street series</i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Alexa Holland's father was her hero-until her shocking discovery. Ever since, Alexa has worked to turn her life in a different direction and forge her own identity outside of his terrible secrets. But when she meets a man who's as damaged by her father's mistakes as she is, Alexa must help him.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Caine Carraway wants nothing to do with Alexa's efforts at redemption, but it's not so easy to push her away. Determined to make her hate him, he brings her to the edge of her patience and waits for her to walk away. But his actions only draw them together and, despite the odds, they begin an intense and all-consuming affair.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Only Caine knows he can never be the white knight that Alexa has always longed for, and when they're on the precipice of danger, he finds he'll do anything to protect either one of them from being hurt again . . . </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Samantha Young just has a way with characters that draws me in like no other author can! It’s not that they’re particularly complex but they draw you in and make you want to know more, no they make you neeeeeed to know more and this book was no exception!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I loved Alexa by the end of chapter one, she’s full of life and you can feel she’s no pushover and a funny gal to boot, but she’s sad and you find out why pretty quickly, her mum has passed away and the dad she’d always thought as her Hero has turned out to be the worst type of man, not only letting her down but leaving a trail of real devastation in his wake. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Then enter Caine Carraway and although I was cautious, because lets face it uber hot, self made millionaire has been done to death, this story does give a little bit more, it has history, mystery and Samantha Youngs very own magic ingredient of characters that you’re rooting for from the off.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So Alexa & Caine meet entirely by accident, she alludes to their shared past, he indirectly gets her fired and this is where the shenanigans begin ~ Alexa begins her fight for survival and Caine begins his mission to make her miserable!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I’ve read some reviews that state Alexa was weak and a doormat and this is a classic example of how each reader gets something different from reading the same story, I thought she was gutsy, sassy, determined and had the measure of Caine long before he ever realised, she knew it was a game and she played that game well, Caine was such a Douche at times but to a degree he had reason and yes the plot was a little predictable but I got so lost in their journey none of that mattered, I laughed, I cried, I revelled in their cat & mouse game & their chemistry was HAWT!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>These guys go on quite a journey, secrets are kept, shared & discovered, the writing was addictive and the secondary characters were amazing, I want Henry to get a book - loved him!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>4 Books Knocked off!</i></span></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Hero by Samantha Young is published by Piatkus in paperback and eBook. You can find of all Samantha Young’s titles in the Kobo website here: </b></span></i></div>
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<i><a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/List/the-hottest-new-voice-in-romance-samantha-young/J-xrHY0rhcp8fAjSHjnPlQ"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>https://store.kobobooks.com/List/the-hottest-new-voice-in-romance-samantha-young/J-xrHY0rhcp8fAjSHjnPlQ</b></span></a></i></div>
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<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Samantha Young is the author of the runaway bestselling On Dublin Street, which sold over 150,000 copies within five weeks and has now been sold in more than 25 countries. Published by Penguin UK until recently, her first book with Little Brown (Castle Hill) was one of the top 10 Hachette ebooks for 2014. This year she has been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance. She lives in Stirlingshire, Scotland and is available for publicity purposes, along with corresponding regularly with her </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">22,000 fans on FB and 15,000 Twitter followers.</span></i></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-49606865491906739422015-03-11T00:30:00.000-05:002015-03-11T00:30:00.385-05:00COVER REVEAL ~ Against the tide by Nikki Groom!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I was happy until I met him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I was content until I met her. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>That's a lie. I was lonely.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>That's a lie. I was incomplete. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>He was nothing but a handsome distraction.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>She was nothing but a pretty pastime. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>That's untrue. He changed my life.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>That's untrue. She altered my world. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I blame him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I blame myself. He wasn't to know.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I blame myself. It wasn't her fault. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>I don't want to need him.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> <strong>I hate that I want her. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em>There's no easy solution.</em> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I realise that I’ve been waiting to see her since the last time she was here. I’ve wanted to feel that electricity that fires off her when she holds my gaze, and every week that she’s not been here, I’ve been disappointed. We haven’t spoken, haven’t even exchanged smiles. There’s just something there. It’s like we seek each other out, and I don’t know why. It’s turned in to a habit I like more than the ecstasy I take.
“Hey Finny boy, Tequila, you in or you going for a piss?” Kyle calls out behind me loading his question with the silent search of my intentions for this evening.
I glance back at him answering “Yeah, man.” When I look back, she’s still there. Looking. Just looking. No smile. No scowl. Just looking at me like there’s something compelling her to do so. The light catches her lip ring and my eyes roam the length of her body like a hungry man that’s been starved for weeks, no, months. She gives off something that makes my hormones run rampant, like an unbalanced teenager. Only I’m fully aware that I’m a grown man and I know exactly what I want to do to her. God, what I would do to her. She’s dressed in a little black dress, and I mean, little. It’s simple, but the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It hugs her tiny, perfect waist, and only just covers her ass. Her legs, her perfect legs, which even though she isn’t tall, look just long enough to wrap around my waist …
“Here.” Harley nudges my arm and hands me a shot of Tequila. I take it mindlessly, all the while still locked on to the enigma on the other side of the room. Then she does something that floors me. She nods, winks, and raises her glass to me across the room. For a second, I’m stunned at the action. We’ve been watching each other for weeks, no words, no actions, just the silent knowledge that we both know we are looking at each other. Now she’s broken the silent pact, what does that mean?</i></span>
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<a href="http://www.readlovelust.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Me2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Nikki Groom" class="aligncenter wp-image-14802" src="http://www.readlovelust.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Me2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i style="color: #cfe2f3; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nikki Groom is a hopeless romantic, lover of all things happily ever after and firm believer that love makes the world go around.
In her spare time, you will find Nikki laughing with her very treasured family, walking with her beloved dog in the hundred acre wood or curled up in a cosy corner with words and wine.
She lives in East Sussex with her husband and two children. Having turned her hand to many things over the years, Nikki is now proud to add ‘author’ to that list.
Having always been a dreamer, Nikki’s imagination stretches far and wide, which enables her to get lost in faraway places and imaginary people.
Nikki loves to chat, especially about books! You can find her here…</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><em><a href="http://amzn.com/B00KLO4M9U" target="_blank">Holding Aces (The Kingdom, #1)</a> | </em><a href="http://amzn.to/1F4uHJv" target="_blank"><em>High Stakes (The Kingdom, #2)</em></a></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-56381496601654035902015-03-09T00:30:00.000-05:002015-03-09T00:30:01.274-05:00RELEASE BLITZ ~ Blocked by Lisa N Paul!<br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Racing hearts, Toe curling kisses, Sexy whispers…
Decker Brand has spent the past four years earning back his man-card. He’s got the calloused hands, the dirty jeans and the toned body to show for it. Now that he’s satisfied with whom he is he intends to stay true to himself even if it means remaining alone.
Lingering glances, Soft touches, Shallow Breaths…
April Maddox thought she’d lucked out when she found her prince at the early age of sixteen. Unfortunately, their kiss turned him from king to croaker right before her eyes.
Forsaken and cynical, she fears all men will leave her with warts before hopping off to another woman’s lily pad.
Smooth strokes, Light nips, Gentle tugs…
When it comes to relationships, they say timing is everything, and everything has its time.
History has played a part in Decker’s and April’s desire to give up on love. Fate will bring them together. It’s up to them to battle the outside forces, life’s interruptions, and daily dramas… together. With a little faith, they can undo everything that’s been…
Blocked
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>HIS GRAVELLY LAUGH reverberated through the phone, making her insides clench with desire she’d never before known. April resisted lifting her lids, not wanting to end the magnificent dream he created in her mind’s eye.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I have no idea,” he admitted, his voice sounding as rough with need as she felt.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Inhaling deeply, April forced her eyes open and looked down at her body. Her lace covered nipples stood in erect peaks, begging to be touched, while her stocking-covered feet rubbed together anxiously, like a cricket sending out a mating call. “Come on, Deck, I know you aren’t a virgin any more than I am. It’s okay. I just wanna know how you learned to have phone sex like that?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Another deep chuckle infiltrated her ear. “Oh, sweet woman, that was not phone sex. That was… fuck.” April could hear the exasperation in his tone. “Frankly, that was something I’ve never experienced in my life. To be honest, I wasn’t certain how that was going to play out, but I just closed my eyes and pictured what you were doing and… it was like I could touch you, April. I could actually fucking taste your lips. That was phone-kissing and it was… mmm.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The timbre of his deep voice felt like his hands, thick and calloused. She’d only felt them a couple of times at the gym when he touched her shoulder or held her hand, but when he’d caressed her cheeks while kissing her at the restaurant, she nearly melted on contact. It was the thought of his rough on her soft that swept her away in his fantasy just moments earlier.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“It was absolutely ‘mmm’,” she teased. Having never experienced phone sex before, neither the full-fledged kind nor the type they’d just engaged in, April knew without a doubt if it was something that could make her feel that good, hell, she’d do it every damn day. “Deck?” She swallowed hard, summoning the courage to say what her mind was shouting.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“What do you need, beautiful?” There was a smile in his question, nothing cocky or crude, but it was as if he asked while fully knowing what she was going to say.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Your kisses,” she started slowly, “both in person and over the phone, made me feel things.” She brought her hand over her breast and rolled her tightened nipple between her finger and her thumb, pinching the nub until small sparks lit in her core. “Things I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I really liked it, Decker… I like you. And I need… more. I want more.” She switched to her other breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, pulling at her nipple as she continued to talk to the man who’d lit her up more than once that evening.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Are you touching yourself, April?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yes.” She heard the quiver in her voice, but she didn’t have it in her to be ashamed.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Good. Where are you touching, honey?” There was no hiding his desire. It was clear as day in each throaty question.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Umm—” Shit, she had to answer him. She was a grown damn woman, and she could perform without a problem, but when it came to talking about sex in a sexy way… well, apparently she was missing that quality—at least according to her ex-husband.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Do you trust me?” Decker asked for the second time that night.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Okay…”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Chuckling, he repeated her answer. “‘Okay’ is better than no, so we’re getting somewhere. April, feel free to stop me if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, okay?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“That I can promise,” she answered confidently.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Perfect. Now, where are you touching yourself, babe?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>April sighed.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“April, are you touching your breasts? Christ, I hope you are. I’ve thought about your perfect tits for months, each time I watched you on the treadmill.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oh my God, his words were like jolts of electricity zinging to the very center of her.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Are you pinching your nipples, beautiful? Making them pebble beneath your long, delicate fingers? Are they begging for my mouth?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>April swallowed. Her breaths were shallow as liquid heat pooled between her thighs. “Mmm, yes, they’re so sensitive, Decker.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She heard his muffled groan before he said, “Fuck, what I wouldn’t do to sweep my tongue over those hardened points and suck until you screamed my name. But…” His words stopped.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Confused, April pulled the phone from her ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “But what? But what, Decker?” The high pitch of her voice would have been amusing had it not sounded so pathetic to her own ears.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“But…” Decker sounded strained but more composed than her. “I asked you to kiss me tonight, and you agreed. But more importantly, I asked for your trust, and you gave it to me.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>There was so much conviction in his words, so much intensity, April felt as if she could see him, touch him… trust him. She shook her head. No, not yet.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I intend to keep that trust. So as much as it pains me to say this, this is where we need to get off.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“That’s what I was trying to do before you so rudely interrupted me, Mr. Brand,” April needled.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Ms. Maddox,” Decker mock-scolded, “are you trying to corrupt my morals? Because I will not allow it.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Unable to remember the last time her cheeks ached from smiling, April giggled into the phone. “I won’t try to corrupt you, you sweet innocent man, but I will thank you for everything. I had a great time tonight, Deck.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Me too, April. I know our schedules are crazy, but I look forward to seeing you again, outside of the gym,” he qualified. “Sleep well, beautiful. I’ll call you tomorrow.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Lisa N. Paul is a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, reader, writer, blogger, and self-proclaimed comedian—just not always in that order. Ever since she was a little girl, she has devoured books. Falling in love with the Sweet Valley High series at a young age drew Lisa to series books and inspired her to write her own. Thursday Nights is the first book in her Charistown series.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When not writing, Lisa can be found eating french fries and Godiva raspberry truffles, or hanging out with her husband and two sons.</i></span></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-10489092277644695342015-03-05T00:30:00.000-06:002015-03-05T00:30:00.583-06:00COVER REVEAL ~ All That Glitters Series by K.A. Linde!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Diamonds (All That Glitters, #1) </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>April 21, 2015. </b></span></div>
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<a href="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Synopsis.jpg"><img alt="Synopsis" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-10840" src="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Synopsis.jpg" height="100" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Bryna feels his eyes on her.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Hot, seductive, enticing.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’s at least ten years older than her seventeen years, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to her with that look.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Walking away would be the smart thing to do…</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But she can’t. Not that first night when he takes her home and claims her body. Not when he shows up in her life again with expensive gifts to win her trust. Not even when she’s falling for him, and everything else is falling apart…</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Find out how Bryna goes from golden girl to gold digger in this tantalizingly scandalous first book to USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde’s All That Glitters series.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Gold (All That Glitters, #2) </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Summer 2015. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The second stand alone book in the All That Glitters series. Follows Bryna Turner in her second year of college and the tumultuous road she has taken to go from golden girl to gold digger in fabulous Las Vegas. </i></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Platinum (All That Glitters, #3) </span></strong></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The third stand alone book in the All That Glitters series. Follows Trihn Hamilton, one of Bryna's best friends, in their junior year of college as she navigates her parent's expectations and the heady lifestyle she and her friends have created in fabulous Las Vegas. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Silver (All That Glitters, #4)</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Release TBD.</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The fourth stand alone book in the All That Glitters series. Follows Stacia Daniels, the second of Bryna's best friends, in their senior year of college as she struggles with the consequences of her jersey chasing desires in fabulous Las Vegas. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde has written the Avoiding series and the Record series as well as the new adult novels Following Me and Take Me for Granted. She grew up as a military brat traveling the United States and Australia. While studying political science and philosophy at the University of Georgia, she founded the Georgia Dance Team, which she still coaches. Post-graduation, she served as the campus campaign director for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. lives in Athens, Georgia, with her fiancé and two puppies, Riker and Lucy.</i></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-66667357158210968072015-03-02T00:30:00.000-06:002015-03-02T12:44:36.765-06:00RELEASE BLITZ ~ Sustain by Tijan!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I had a simple life. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I worked two jobs, made ends meet, and hung out with my mom and twin brother. The other part of my life was about avoiding him, but when SWAT raided my boyfriend’s home, that was the last straw. The boyfriend got tossed and to help me keep busy, my brother talked me into joining their old band again, but I had to be honest. It wasn’t a hard sell. Playing drums was in my blood. I used to be addicted and that craving hadn’t been satisfied in three long years. The only problem was their lead singer. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It was him. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The drums might not have been the only thing I was addicted to. I think I was still addicted to him too. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Luke hit a jarring note on his guitar below, drawing me from the past and back to reality. Seriously. I’d been ready to take on two thugs beside a dumpster for my stupid-ass cousin, but this had ice filling my veins.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I rolled my eyes upward. What was wrong with me?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The melody was addictive. I felt it reach deep inside me and take root. My breathing wavered as he kept playing. He moved down a chord, and the sound of it seeped into me, smoothing out the haunted memories. Then he began singing. His voice was soft and low, but I could hear it as if I were in the room. He was weaving a spell. It was like he threw a spear that had a rope attached to it at me from a hundred yards away, and it embedded deep into my stomach. Then he began pulling on it. I couldn’t fight because it would yank out my insides, but damn, I didn’t want to go with it. This whole thing with Luke was both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I had two urges going through me at once. One was to crap my pants, and the other was to start doing cartwheels.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">I was just messed up, which is why I started down the stairs. I still had no clue what to say, but I had to do something.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He was hunched over the guitar in his lap with a beer at his feet. His eyes were closed, and his head hung over the guitar as he hit another chord, his thumb beating out the base. Since he was only wearing jeans, I saw some of the scars on his back. A storm of regret, shame, and longing all swirled inside me. I wanted to go to him, run my hands over those scars, and make them disappear. I couldn’t, though. We weren’t close anymore.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So many ghosts within you</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So many haunts to pull you away</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>You look, I reach out and there’s nothing to do</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They take you from me again, far away</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can’t, I can’t, I can’t take your hand</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He kept singing, and my heart felt like it was splitting into two, but then he faltered. His eyes opened, and he looked up. He didn’t stop playing, but he stopped singing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I felt like he was strumming me. I couldn’t look away from his gaze. His thumb stopped hitting the bass, and his fingers slowed on the guitar. “What are you doing here?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Right. I was pretty sure I was seeing lust in his eyes. With that thought, a fever took over my blood, heating me up. “I,” my tongue wet my lips, “um, I’m here to talk about you and me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His gaze clouded over, and his eyelids lowered. He bent his head back over his guitar, but he didn’t start strumming again. “There is no ‘you and me.’ You’re in the band. That’s it.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiae3L-NuwEpRYD1vJKU-e3C65mZ1deJKkATA54NC7hcGeF6HnW5EvaQTwLRQQfabIUq5yx_m0CLoog4T4_3LQK1fVrG2G8bGP4DMgPoubjwLU92CxqVVIX49JBEbX3IzCZZIyc39XtSSs/s1600/Sustain+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiae3L-NuwEpRYD1vJKU-e3C65mZ1deJKkATA54NC7hcGeF6HnW5EvaQTwLRQQfabIUq5yx_m0CLoog4T4_3LQK1fVrG2G8bGP4DMgPoubjwLU92CxqVVIX49JBEbX3IzCZZIyc39XtSSs/s1600/Sustain+3.jpg" height="278" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Luke,” I started.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cccccc; letter-spacing: 0px;">“No.” He stood up abruptly, setting his guitar to the side. He advanced toward me, his eyes were </span><span style="color: #cccccc;">smouldering</span><span style="color: #cccccc; letter-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">When my back hit the wall, I realized I had nowhere else to go and could only watch as he closed in on me. A part of me wanted him to keep getting closer; the other part of me was still thinking about crapping my pants.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He leaned a hand against the wall beside my head, keeping a few inches between us. His eyes were hard as he said, “There is no you and me. That died long ago, remember?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I’d been tense from watching Bri on stage, and it hadn’t lessened as we ran through the woods. If there was another remark about her, I was ready to swing. I didn’t care how big they were.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Gunn had been watching me. He moved close and said under his breath, “If it happens, I’ll do it.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Why?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Because we need your pretty face for the fans.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I looked up to see if he was serious. He was, but he relinquished, “Kidding. If you have a busted face, I think Priss would piss her pants from excitement.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Braden had overheard him and laughed. “No, shit. That’d be leaked to the gossip shows in two seconds flat. I swear, she has all the numbers for the gossip channels on speed dial.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The football players had gone ahead, but stopped and waited for us. The third one asked, “What’s going on?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Nothing.” I shoved past him. While seeing the road through the trees, I saw the headlights for Braden’s car at the same time. When we cleared the trees and headed up the ditch, all of us panned out and walked in one line for the car.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When we got there, Bri opened her door and leaned against the car. Her hair was whipping behind her face and one hand was resting on her hip. She tugged her shirt and then adjusted it back, but it didn’t stick. It fell down, showing her black bra. Bri was clueless, scowling at us. She was the picture of fierce and alluring at the same time.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>We were greeted with, “What were you guys doing there?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She took in the whole line of guys before letting her eyes find mine, making me feel seared. It was the same effect every time. My insides felt yanked out, but I still wanted to touch her.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I looked away instead.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“We came to see you.” Braden motioned to the guys.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Are you insane? How was tonight supposed to go down any other way? You guys are celebrities. You can’t be coming to house parties anymore.” There was a clipped bark to her voice, but it faded on the last word, and I glanced over. She sneaked a look at me.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah, we didn’t think ahead.” Braden threw a hand to the football guys. “Got some extra room?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She shook her head. “There is no way this little car can fit all of you hulks.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The guys laughed and one mentioned, “We can wait here. A bunch of our buddies are coming. They can pick us up.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I should’ve thanked them for saving us from the chaos, and I heard Gunn and Braden doing exactly that, but I looked back at her. Her hand was still on her hip, but her shoulders were slumped forward. She was kicking at some gravel on the road.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The football guys headed farther down the road as Gunn and Braden got into the car. We were alone now, but there was still an audience.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She wouldn’t look at me anymore. I wanted to turn those dark eyes to me. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what. I ended with, “You’re still really good.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Her head lifted, and I saw it. There was so much there. Fear, caution, excitement, warmth, and another expression I couldn’t place. No, I did. She was still haunted.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Thank.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She was mine.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>No. She wasn’t.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She had gone to him that night.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ah, fucking hell.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“We should probably talk.”</i></span></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Her eyes opened at my tone, which was rough, and panic flared across her face for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px;">
<i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I didn't begin writing until after undergraduate college. There'd been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can't blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I'm hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.</span></i></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-13194518401271716532015-02-25T00:30:00.000-06:002015-02-25T00:30:00.427-06:00BLOG TOUR ~ Thoughtful by S.C. Stephens!<br />
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<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span id="freeText5214970831256576138" style="line-height: 19px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Every story has two sides, and in this new book, the epic love story between Kiera and Kellan is shown through his eyes. </span></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><i><span id="freeText5214970831256576138" style="line-height: 19px;">All Kellan Kyle needs is his guitar, and some clean sheets of paper. Growing up in a house that was far from a home, he learned a hard lesson: You're worthless. Now his life is comfortably filled with passionate music, loyal band mates, and fast women...until he meets her. </span></i></i></span></div>
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<i><span id="freeText5214970831256576138">Kiera makes him ache for more. Makes him feel for the first time that he'sworth more. But there's one problem - she's his best friend's girl. </span></i></div>
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<i><span id="freeText5214970831256576138">Just when Kellan thought his emotional defenses were rock solid, Kiera's indecisive heart wreaks havoc on his soul, changing him forever. Losing Kiera is not an option.</span></i></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I’m not actually a lover of the same book from a male POV, it just irritates me reading the same story again but there’s the odd occasion where my gut tells me that it’s going to be worth it and S.C. Stephens does not disappoint ~ AT ALL!!!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>No need to re-hash the story, I’d be surprised if this book has readers that haven’t read at least Thoughtless so we all know what happens and what the end result is.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>(However, if you are in that eensy teensy minority we'd strongly recommend you read Thoughtless first!)</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now I know without a doubt that Kellan is a book boyfriend fave, he’s loved by young and old, which is quite surprising for a self proclaimed manwhore and all the while stealing his best friends girl from under his nose when he was entrusted with her care & well being in a new city where she knew nobody!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>But loved Kellan is and if you didn’t get that from Thoughtless, Thoughtful will just wreck you, I honestly felt like I was sitting in a room with a great friend, curled up on a comfy sofa, glass of wine in hand lending an ear and a shoulder whilst he poured out his heart and soul, berated himself for such poor decisions, self sacrificed to try and do the right thing, all after falling hopelessly in love with somebody he couldn’t have. I cried for him, I cried with him, I wanted to shake him and yet I couldn’t help feel desperately sorry for the mess he was caught up in.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Like a lot of people I wasn’t a huge fan of Kiera but I admired how protective and loyal Kellan was to her, she’s the love of his life, it was a mess created by the two of them, they both screwed up, he knew that, he didn’t want it resting completely on her shoulders and he really stepped up both physically & emotionally, jeez I felt I could see into his soul at times, even though I knew how the book ends I was rooting for him so bad, my heart was breaking for him. I questioned my own morality at times because if somebody had said “Denny” whilst I was reading, I’d have said “Denny who?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ultimately this story gives you a whole new perspective and an insight to all the crazy that goes on with Kellan, his childhood, the unusual start to his friendship with Denny, his parents appalling behaviour, his desire to just “be” his actions may be screwed up but his goals aren’t, what he’s asking for from life is simple and taken for granted by so many, he goes through hell for his happy ever after and I for one think he’s earned it!</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>5 Books Knocked Off!</b></i></span></span></div>
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-40060980603267519382015-02-24T12:24:00.002-06:002015-02-24T12:24:56.056-06:00COVER REVEAL ~ Revved by Samantha Towle!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/RevvedEbook.jpg"><img alt="RevvedEbook" class="aligncenter wp-image-17311" src="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/RevvedEbook-e1424375076294.jpg" /></a></div>
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Cover Designed by: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Najla-Qamber-Designs/152137158206447" target="_blank">Najla Qamber Designs</a></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Race car mechanic Andressa “Andi” Amaro has one rule—no dating drivers. With a good reason behind the rule, she has no plans on breaking it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Carrick Ryan is the bad boy of Formula One. With a face and body that melts panties on sight, and an Irish lilt that leaves women on their knees, begging for more. He races hard and parties harder. The youngest driver to ever sign with F1, he’s still at the top of his game five years later, breaking hearts on and off the tracks.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When Andi is offered her dream job working in the glamorous world of F1, she leaves her home in Brazil, positive she can handle working for Carrick. But she’s not prepared for the off-the-chart sparks that fly the moment they meet.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now, Andi has a crush on the one man she can’t have, and her resolve is about to be put to the test, because Carrick has decided he wants Andi, and he plans on testing her to the very limit…</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Come on…just one piece of bacon.”
“No.” I move my plate toward me, and away from him.
“Aww, come on, baby. You know you wanna give me some.”
Baby?
I feel that word wash through me like an erotic cleansing.
Pressing my thighs and lips together, I shake my head. “Nope. Your smooth Irish charm won’t work on me.”
Grinning, he gives me a look straight from the sex devil. “Aww, Andressa. Baby. If you give me some…I’ll make it worth your while. It can be our little secret. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
“How do you manage to make a conversation about bacon sound dirty?”
“I’d say it’s a talent…but maybe it’s not me that’s dirty and it’s you. After all, you are the one interpreting it that way."</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/AboutTheAuthor.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="AboutTheAuthor" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-10832" src="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/AboutTheAuthor.jpg" height="100" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/samantha-towle-e1404844885110.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="samantha towle" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-14428" src="http://shhmomsreading.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/samantha-towle-e1404844885110.jpg" height="264" width="400" /></a><br />
<i style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal and international bestselling author Samantha Towle began her first novel in 2008 while on maternity leave. She completed the manuscript five months later and hasn't stopped writing since.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She has written contemporary romances, THE MIGHTY STORM, WETHERING THE STORM, TAMING THE STORM and TROUBLE.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She has also written paranormal romances, THE BRINGER and the ALEXANDRA JONES SERIES, all penned to tunes of The Killers, Kings of Leon, Adele, The Doors, Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, and more of her favourite musicians.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A native of Hull and a graduate of Salford University, she lives with her husband, Craig, in East Yorkshire with their son and daughter.</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Books-by-Samantha-Towle/230032170346603" target="_blank">Facebook </a>| <a href="https://www.twitter.com/samtowlewrites" target="_blank">Twitter </a>| <a href="http://www.samanthatowle.co.uk/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4838933.Samantha_Towle?from_search=true" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></i></span></div>
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Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-52493263881712179902015-02-23T00:30:00.000-06:002015-02-23T11:38:09.773-06:00BLOG TOUR ~ Unexpected Fate by Harper Sloan!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Have you ever felt like you were living your life for a future that was predetermined?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Like there was some bigger picture you just prayed you would someday see clearly? </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>That picture has been crystal clear to me since I was old enough to recognize it for just what it was. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Or I should say recognize him for who he was. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I’ve loved Cohen Cage since I was a small child. He’s been my everything for the last twenty-two years. I’ve loved him through every girlfriend he’s ever brought home. Through his college years and then mine. I’ve loved him through two deployments. And ever since the day I told him how I felt, he’s acted like I’m a stranger. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My name is Danielle Reid, and it’s time for me to get my man. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Our future is an unexpected fate, and no matter what our parents, siblings, and friends say…it’s going to be worth every second of the fight to make it happen. </i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplDTXWKEF8uhYfbk0VSzVg4zQ8V_Hf5cN6L1SMrh1KfcPBgZK5sZkPsvzbeDwwZXZj7XZqQXmdEISCtmJZ6q_XP8A4iVCkWk6KTHFsPFsXtaoRbgXGyv_E1Km31gNNRSyAUh7jqwqYoc/s1600/Unexpected+Fate+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplDTXWKEF8uhYfbk0VSzVg4zQ8V_Hf5cN6L1SMrh1KfcPBgZK5sZkPsvzbeDwwZXZj7XZqQXmdEISCtmJZ6q_XP8A4iVCkWk6KTHFsPFsXtaoRbgXGyv_E1Km31gNNRSyAUh7jqwqYoc/s1600/Unexpected+Fate+1.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWaLTpBMHoYG7Njc2JdudEvrjus4zRglrBO1ZLgn-L-yKvcimn-uw91x0xqrSDrdPmoau6dHNe-UYszU_FDgF6TB9BXxfxAlBduY5oCnvYTuhrC2tQhnqtdlRwPrhqY04UcQ7Bf72QPs/s1600/Unexpected+Fate+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAWaLTpBMHoYG7Njc2JdudEvrjus4zRglrBO1ZLgn-L-yKvcimn-uw91x0xqrSDrdPmoau6dHNe-UYszU_FDgF6TB9BXxfxAlBduY5oCnvYTuhrC2tQhnqtdlRwPrhqY04UcQ7Bf72QPs/s1600/Unexpected+Fate+2.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i> “Dani-girl.” His voice, that rich rumble of masculine excellence, washes over me and I shiver again before cursing under my breath. The rumble of his low laughter tells me that he definitely didn’t miss that little move.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Kill me now.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Hey, Coh,” I say with a smile. “What brings you in? Last minute, I might add.” I pat the chair before walking around and holding the back while he sits down.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When his scent hits my nose, I almost come on the spot. Lord, he smells good. I wonder what he would smell like while his body covered mine, all sweaty from hours of good lovemaking. I run my fingers through the longer lengths on the top and feel my cheeks heat slightly, thinking about doing the same when his face is buried between my legs. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“…needed a trim.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Shit. I missed what he said because, naturally, I was thinking about him naked. Naked and thrusting into my body. Naked and feasting between my spread thighs.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You feeling okay? I thought Nate said you were better?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Uh, I’m fine. Just—is it hot in here?” I fan my face and avoid his eyes.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’s silent, so I take that as a sign that it’s safe to bring my attention back to him.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Big mistake there. His knowing eyes are boring right into mine. The chocolate depths sparkling in a way that makes it clear he has a good idea about where my mind was going.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Did you hear what I said, Dani-girl?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Of course I did, Cohen. What, did you think I was standing here daydreaming?” I joke.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Well, yeah, that’s exactly what I think.” His eyes darken and he smirks a devilish grin. “Did you know you talk in your sleep, Dani?” he asks, and I drop my comb.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oh, God. Shut up, shut up, shut up. This is not happening. No way. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“No, I don’t,” I childishly snap.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Dani, you do. So, yeah, I do think you were standing there daydreaming. Want to know why?” He uses his booted foot to move his chair so that he’s facing me, and then he leans in so that his face is dangerously close to mine. Even when he’s seated, his head is almost level with my own. Curse my horizontally challenged self. “While you were zoning off into space with your fingers running through my hair, you had this smile on your lips. The same smile you had the other day when you were dreaming. About me, Dani. And don’t deny it, because you don’t moan my name if you’re dreaming about another man. Yes, Dani, you very much do talk in your sleep.” He smiles again before leaning back and looking down to his phone. “Clean up my neck please, cut the length off the top, and give me a buzz on the sides. Other than that, you’re clear to continue with your thoughts.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I must have been standing there like an idiot because he looks up from his phone, laughs to himself, and, with one tan hand, reaches out and pushes my mouth closed. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You’re going to catch flies that way, Dani-girl. One day, maybe you can clue me in on what those dreams are about.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Drives me insane, the control he has over me. There isn’t a single person in the world, other than Cohen, who can turn me into a ridiculously stupid, sputtering fool. My normal confidence disappears. And clearly, he isn’t as oblivious to my feelings as I originally thought. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>How in the hell am I supposed to handle this?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Wait a minute. Cohen or not, I’m not going to let him pull my strings when I know he is just doing this to make me feel uncomfortable.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So, time to call his bluff.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Why? You planning on doing something about it?”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He looks up sharply, clearly not having expected me to actually say something in return since he was going for shock value.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Try me,” he demands, his voice thick and even deeper than normal.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I throw my head back and reach out to run my fingers thought his hair again, just barely suppressing the shivers. Curling my fingers slightly so that I can grab a good hold, I lean in and pull his head back at the same time. With my nose just a hair away from his and our breaths mingling together, I say, “Cohen, you couldn’t handle the truth of my thoughts when it comes to you and we both know it. So how about you let me know when you’re ready for me to clue you in.” I give his hair a light tug and smile when he swallows loudly and shifts in his seat. “Ready for that trim?” I ask with a wink, and I’m rewarded with his groan.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I have no idea how I do it, but I manage to get through his cut without coming unglued. I can see Lyn trying to get my attention from across the room. Stella had to leave after she overheard my words to Cohen because her giggles were getting the best of her. Cohen has remained silent the whole time. His eyes though… They’re speaking louder than his words ever could.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>They haven’t left my reflection in the mirror since I started. I can feel them every time I shift. When I stopped to go grab another comb after I dropped my fourth one, I felt his gaze follow me across the room to Stella’s station. The few times I stopped cutting to meet his eyes, the heated promise written all over his face almost did me in. I almost just said ‘fuck it’ and climbed on his lap to have a go regardless of the people watching our every move.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I finish the last buzz of my clippers around his right ear and move to brush all the stray hair off. “All done,” I say softly and unclip his cape.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He stands, shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and walks over to stand in front of me. I continue to pretend I’m busy with the cape I just removed, brushing stray hairs off here and there, when his hand comes up, his finger and thumb hitting my chin, and my face is lifted until I have no choice but to look in his eyes.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Do not tease me, Dani. It’s not a game you want to play if you don’t intend to follow through.”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I-I wasn’t… I wouldn’t,” I stammer.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You did, and I have no doubt you’ll have the brilliant idea to do it again. The next time you allude to those dirty thoughts I know you have about me, don’t think for a second that I won’t drag you to the closest bed to show you just how fucking dirty they’ll get.” He leans close, his scent hitting my nostrils, and I involuntarily inhale deeply, earning me a rumbled chuckle. “What you don’t know, Dani—because contrary to what you think, you don’t know me well enough to assume what having me would really be like. But I promise you this: every little thought that you have had that causes you to moan my name while scissoring those perfect legs back and forth, praying for completion—it would be so much hotter than you could ever imagine.” He gives me a soft, sweet kiss against my temple that has fire racing from that spot all over my body until it ends in the awareness that I’m pretty sure I just came in my pants.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-size: x-large;"><b><i><u>PROLOUGE</u></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-size: x-large;"><b><i><u><br /></u></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Axel Reid, don’t you dare!” my mom exclaims. Then she yelps when my daddy charges through the front door.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Don’t I dare what, Princess? No way that boy is going near my girl. Look at him! He looks like he can’t wait to creep on my daughter!”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Well, there is no need to scare him to death!” she mocks.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My cheeks heat instantly when I see Dane start backing away from the porch. My hopes of being able to actually go to my senior prom are starting to go up in flames.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Poof. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Just like that.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Not that I should be surprised about it. Mom did her best to calm Daddy down, but we should have known better. He took one look at me and stormed over, only to return ten minutes later looking like he does now.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>So embarrassing.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You need to stop this nonsense right now, you big lug, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Mom fumes.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Like hell I will, woman!” Daddy roars at my mom.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I watch her face get sharp. He stops long enough to sling one of—that’s right, ONE of—the rifles he’s carrying over his shoulder, where it lands next to the other one he already has over his other shoulder. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Only my mom would be brave enough to deal with him when he’s in “Protect Dani from everything with a penis” mode. He looks absolutely ridiculous. He has two hunting rifles now hanging by their leather straps over each shoulder. He has two handguns strapped to each thick thigh, two on each side of his belt, and various knives along the way. His shirt, which he thinks is hilarious to wear when I attempt to go out on a date, says I kill things…and eat them. I know it’s a hunting shirt—for animals, not teenage boys—but Dane doesn’t.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Mom moves in front of him, standing in the front doorway and blocking his path, where Dane is still slowly retreating. She’s been dealing with this way before they even had me. He’s…protective. I guess that’s the nicest way to put it. Well, she calls him protective. However, I call it possessive, overbearing, controlling, demanding, and jerky.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“This is her senior prom, Ax. You wouldn’t let her go last year.” She pauses when he grunts. “And I’m sorry, but you won’t be stopping her this year. She has a right to experience this. And Dane is a nice boy. Right, Dane?” she yells over her shoulder.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Uhh…” he stammers, causing my daddy to grunt some more.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“The boy doesn’t even know how to talk, Izzy. I bet he will be nothing but handsy and think with his little pecker. Nope. No way. Not near my baby girl.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oh. My. God. I wish I could just fall into a hole right now. I try to see over my parents to find out if Dane heard that, but with Daddy basically being a giant, that’s not happening.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You did not just say that!” I yell at his back. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Daddy turns around, his movements awkward with how many weapons he has strapped to his body. His green eyes, so like my own, slant and harden. He looks down at my dress for the thousandth time since I came downstairs and doesn’t even bother hiding his displeasure that it’s showing too much of my body. Even if it is about as tasteful as it gets. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My strapless, red dress has a sweetheart neckline, and everything he calls my “girly bits” is covered. There isn’t really any cleavage. Well, okay, there is some, but surely with my lack of being busty, you couldn’t even call what is showing “cleavage.” His first problem was with how much of my legs was showing. Then I made the mistake of turning around without my wrap on. That’s when he saw that the dress was completely backless to my bra line. Well, what it would be if I had been wearing one. Which is clearly when he lost his mind.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You look just like your mother did that night twenty years ago when we finally came back to each other. Right down to those strappy shoe things. And I guarantee you, Danielle Reid, any teenage boy who doesn’t bat for the other team will be thinking thoughts I’ll cut his dick off for. No. You aren’t going with that boy, and that’s final.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I harden my eyes, and his narrow even further. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I put my hands on my hips, and he squares his shoulders, his rifles clinking together. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I raise one brow, and he mirrors the action.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Daddy.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Dani.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’ll cry.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“No, you won’t. You have more balls than that.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Want to bet?” I attempt to muster up some tears, knowing that he won’t be able to handle them, but before I can force the first one out, my brother jumps into my line of sight and blocks our standoff. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yo, Dane! You just run along now. Dani is unfortunately feeling a little under the weather. Ebola. Or the flu. I don’t know. It’s really ugly and you probably don’t want to be around this. The boils—they could pop at any moment.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You did not just do that,” I heatedly whisper, fuming at his nerve.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Nate turns and smirks at me. “Oh I just did.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I can’t believe you two!” I spin to look at the one person who can help me. “Mom, seriously?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Her expression softens, and she just shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Dani. I tried.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You two,” I start, pointing between my older brother and father. “You just can’t leave it alone? I’ll be eighteen in a few months. What are you jerks going to do then?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You’re not dating, Danielle. Not ever.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Oh yeah, Daddy? And how realistic is that crap?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Watch your mouth, little princess.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Mom?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m so sorry, Dani.” She walks over and wraps me in her small arms. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I could probably really cry now a lot easier than when I was trying to fake it, but I’ve never been one of those girls who weep constantly. It would be easier to just go upstairs, take off the dress mom and I spent hours looking for, scrub off the light makeup she helped me apply, and pretend this night didn’t happen.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>***</i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>An hour later, I’m sitting in my bedroom, still wearing my perfect dress. My makeup is still done and my hair is still flowing in long waves. And I’m no less mad at the men in my life than I was earlier. I’ve considered climbing out my window. I’ve considered asking my best friends, Lyn and Lila, to come help me escape. But what would be the point? Rambo-Dad already scared away my date, the only boy left in school who had been willing to ask me even though his friends had warned him about my father.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. Maybe I should go away for college. I planned on living at home while I attended Georgia Tech, but there is no way I can deal with this stuff any longer. If my father had things his way, I would be shipped off to become a nun. Or he would buy an island and make it an all-girls cult.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Uhggggg!” I yell to the empty room.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Seriously, Dani-girl, things can’t be that bad.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I jump up when I hear the deep, gravelly, insanely sexy voice coming from my bedroom door. That voice. My lord. The things it alone does to me should be classified as illegal. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My hair slaps me in the face, a good handful landing in my open mouth, and I hastily pull it out before I turn to where he is standing.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My lord, he’s beautiful. He’s always been. My heart speeds up when I take in his smirking face and the mischief dancing in his brown eyes.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Cat got your tongue?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I shake my head.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Speechless?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I shake it again.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Do you really have some flesh-eating, boil-slash-Ebola-like sickness?” he laughs.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I narrow my eyes at him, and his rich laughter booms through the room.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“I’m just kidding, Dani-girl. Come on. Get yourself ready and let’s go rock this prom.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My jaw drops again. “What?” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>For the first time, I notice that he’s dressed in a perfectly tailored tux. My eyes travel down his tall form to his shining, black dress shoes. On the way back up, my eyes hit the corsage spinning around his finger before I look back up into those gorgeous eyes. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Let’s go, beautiful.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Does Daddy know you’re here?” I ask, not moving from my spot.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He sighs, steps into my room, and walks over. His cologne, Gucci Black, wraps around me. He’s worn the same scent for years. I perversely sniff it every time I hit the mall with Lyn and Lila. That scent—it’s my undoing.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He grabs one of my hands and gives my knuckles a kiss before placing the corsage around my wrist. He gives my hand a squeeze before letting go. Placing his strong hands on my shoulders, he presses down until I’m seated on my bed. Kneeling before me, he takes my feet one by one and fastens the straps of my black heels before standing and grabbing my hands, again, to pull me to my feet.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The whole time, I act like a freak and just gape at him.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>What in the hell is going on?</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Ready?” he asks.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Uhhh…”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Right. You’re ready,” he laughs, grabs my hand, and pulls me through the house, down the stairs, and into the entryway of the house, where my parents are waiting. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Mom has her camera ready, forcing us to take some pictures, for all of which I’m sure I’m just standing there in a daze. I think I smiled in them, but I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Daddy smiles big and triumphantly the whole time, like he’s won some battle here. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Oh, good. You got here,” Nate mumbles through a sandwich he’s stuffing down his throat.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I shake out of my stunned stupor and look over at him. “You did this?” I ask with disbelief.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Well, duh. Can’t have my little sister miss her prom because of some boils. Plus, I knew this guy,” he says, pointing at our father, “wouldn’t mind him.” He takes another bite before he looks over my shoulder. “And I know he isn’t going to try to pet the cat.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Nathaniel Gregory!” Mom gasps.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“What? Why do you think Dad acts like he does? Just because I’m willing to say the words doesn’t mean you have to freak out.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I look over at my mom, who has turned bright red. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Daddy laughs at her embarrassment and pulls her into his arms. “Are you sure we didn’t drop that one a few times as a baby?” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>She slaps his hard stomach and shakes her head. “You look beautiful, honey. Have fun, okay?” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I smile at her and move my eyes to Daddy to judge his mood. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He just smiles at me. “I trust him. He won’t let any of those pimple-faced, prepubescent boys touch a beautiful hair on your head. Have fun, sweetheart.” </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I walk over and give them both a hug, standing up on my toes as far as a can to whisper my gratitude in his ear. He’s annoying, overprotective, and possessive of his girls, but I love him and I know he comes from a good place. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Uh, excuse me? Do I not get any little-sister love here? I’m the one running this show, you know?”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“You’re such a dork, Nate,” I laugh and give him a hug before turning back to my date.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He’s standing by the door, talking in low tones to my daddy. I can’t hear him, but he’s still smiling, so I’m guessing there isn’t any talk about dismemberment going on. He looks over, his smile deepening and the lines around his eyes crinkling. Something moves behind his eyes that darkens them slightly, but he looks back over at Daddy, finishing up their conversation.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Ready, Dani-girl?” he asks a few minutes later, making my heart speed up again.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Holy. Crap. </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Yeah. I’m ready.” Or at least as ready as I’ll ever be.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>**</i></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 15px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>That night, while dancing to Brett Young’s “Kiss by Kiss,” I knew I would never be the same. I could feel the jealous waves coming off every female in the room as he held me in his arms. Of course, I had a man and not a boy as my date. Five years older than I am and very obviously not a teenager.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Being held in his arms was a dream come true. His scent invaded my lungs with every inhale. His eyes twinkled as his smile held me hostage. I knew I would never love a man as much as I love him.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Yeah. That was the night I confirmed what I had always known. What I had always felt.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Cohen Cage owned my heart and I never wanted it back.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>*Sigh* this book just didn’t do it for me, I think if I had to sum it up in just a few words, for me it just lacked depth!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I couldn’t connect with Dani at all, I know she’s Axel’s princess but growing up around all of that testosterone & her mum surviving the marriage from hell, I expected more guts to her but she cam across as whiny & dare I say a bit pathetic.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now Cohen, I gelled with a little more, I wonder if that’s because he has always been such a character throughout the series, with his troubled past, his capes and his fascination with “penis” piercings, we’ve seen a side to him that we’ve never really got from Dani so maybe he had an unfair advantage. In saying that despite his dangerous job he also seemed a little immature to me, I just wasn’t feeling it, I felt zero chemistry between them, Harper usually nails sex scenes for me but this time I felt it was lip service with not a lot of substance. The hair cut scene did nothing for me!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I also felt the book was a little busy, names upon names and I couldn't remember which child belonged to who, so it got a bit confusing at times. I also missed the older gang but I do understand the author is maybe trying to set this gang apart.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Despite this book not really doing it for me, I will definitely stick with the series because I loved the Corp Security guys and I don’t think the author has run out of steam but the transition from parent to child was awkward here but definitely salvageable. I look forward to the next instalment and hope Ms Sloan pulls it back to the badass queen we know she is!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>3 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Harper lives in small town Georgia just a short drive from her hometown of Peachtree City. She (and her 3 daughters) enjoy ruling the house they dubbed 'Estrogen Ocean', much to her husband’s chagrin. Harper has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books; you can almost ALWAYS find her with her eReader attached. She enjoys bad reality TV and cheesy romantic flicks. Her favorite kind of hero--the super alpha kind!</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Harper started using writing as a way to unwind when the house went to sleep at night; and with a house full of crazy it was the perfect way to just relax. It didn't take long before a head full of very demanding alphas would stop at nothing to have their story told.</i></span></span><br />
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<br />Knock Your Books Offhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07711929652595235151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866254850893745332.post-79415818727578150042015-02-20T00:30:00.000-06:002015-02-20T00:30:00.342-06:00BLOG TOUR ~ Worth the Risk by Claudia Connor!<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>When a McKinney brother falls in love, powerful emotion and overwhelming desire are never far behind.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Two hearts locked away . . . Hannah Walker spends her days coaching children through injury and trauma, one therapeutic horseback ride at a time. She knows all too well how violence can change a child and leave scars that never heal. It’s easy for her to relate to the kids; what isn’t easy is the thought of facing her own harrowing past.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Millionaire playboy Stephen McKinney could use a little coaching himself. Five years ago he encountered his most horrible nightmare—and the nightmare won. No matter what he achieves, nothing can make up for that awful night . . . or so he believes.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Both desperate for a second chance . . . Stephen is used to getting what he wants. And he wants Hannah. So when she turns him down, he’s intrigued. What he doesn’t know is that her secrets will lead him to a place he never wanted to go again . . . to a side of himself he’s tried to forget . . . a side that would scare Hannah away from ever loving him. Now his only chance to win her trust is to bare his soul, risking everything he tried so hard to protect.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Whoa we hit alpha overload in this book, we have the broken smouldering Stephen McKinney and an equally broken Hannah with four VERY protective older brothers, it’s like the alpha mother ship!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It took me a while to warm up to Stephen, he has a touch of arrogance and I couldn’t decide for a while if that gave him an edge or made him an ass, I ultimately decided on the former because he’s really been through the mill, he lost his fiancee in horrific circumstances and he’s done his very best to work through that, ok not in the most conventional way, he pushes away his nearest and dearest, he has some seriously dark thoughts centred around revenge & doesn’t exactly treat Hannah with the tender loving care she so desperately needs, I spent a lot of time shaking my head at him and wishing he’d just freaking get it together.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Hannahs demons are just as traumatic as Stephens but they happened to her directly and she survived and she used that experience to create something truly beautiful. She’s definitely not in the market for a relationship but something about Stephen calls to her and she exposes herself like never before, I was humbled by her bravery and the way she coped with everything that was thrown at her.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This book is very different from Matts story, it’s darker, edgier but what they both have in common is the true feel of family and the grounding that a good family gives you, I got feels by the comfort both families gave these characters, yes they may be nosey, over bearing and interfere when it’s not wanted but they love hard and they care and it gave this book such a heart warming feel with all of the darkness swirling around Stephen & Hannah.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>This book had it all, it’s gritty, angst filled, heart breakingly emotional, oh and don’t forget HAWT, Stephen might be an asshole at times but he’s a hot asshole!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can’t wait for more from this family and I want Hannahs brothers to get a book each too pretty please.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>4 Books Knocked Off!</i></span></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Claudia Connor is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of heartfelt contemporary romance. Claudia attended Auburn University, where she received her undergraduate and masters degrees in early childhood education, and completed her studies in Sawbridgeworth, England. Always a lover of happy endings, she enjoys movies, reading, and travel, but spends most of her time typing out the love stories of the almost real people that live in her head. Claudia lives near Memphis, Tennessee, with her husband and three daughters.</span></i></div>
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