New Release ~ Damaged Hearts by Monica Murphy

DamagedHearts-SBPRBANNER-RB

Damaged Hearts by Monica Murphy
Release Date: May 24, 2018
Series: Damaged Hearts
Genre: New Adult Romance

Damaged Hearts ebook

Synopsis:

After all we’ve been through, things are finally good between us. So good, I think I’m falling for Rhett, and I hope he’s falling for me. Once my enemy, he could now be my forever. But I’m still keeping a big secret from him. One that threatens to destroy us…

Jensen has stopped running away from me. She’s realized that we’re actually meant for each other. I need her, and I think she needs me too. Yet there are still secrets between us—will she hate me when she finds out the truth?

All the lies, all the secrets come to an explosive finale in the last book in the Damaged Hearts series!

Damaged Hearts_Available now

Read Today!

iBooks exclusive: https://apple.co/2s30auq

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2rYkLju

DH_HIM_TEASER

About the Author:

Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and Harper Collins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance.

She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she’s not writing, she’s reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She’s a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.

Connect with Monica:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyauthor/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5934418.Monica_Murphy

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1YUl0Vm

Website: http://monicamurphyauthor.com

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/IW5U0y

Cover Reveal ~ Blind Love by Kelly Elliott!

 

 

 

Harley and I had our whole lives planned out, until her plans changed, and those plans didn’t include me.

After years spent trying to get the love of my life out of my head and repair my too-damaged heart, I thought I was finally moving on…but life sure has a funny way of letting you know when those best-laid plans are about to be turned upside down.

My entire world was rocked when Harley unexpectedly moved back to Oak Springs. Every miserable moment I’d spent trying to get over her and every hour I’d wasted trying to erase her from my life came back to haunt me the minute she walked into my office, fear in her eyes, and asked me for help. Would I…or better yet, could I walk away from her this time after all that she had put me through?

What I really needed to know is would I be able to forge ahead with the future I had so meticulously planned—one that didn’t include Harley—or will her return finally open my eyes to a future full of endless possibilities?

 

Blind Love is book five in the Cowboys and Angels series.

 

 

 

PRE-ORDER NOW

AMAZON | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

 

 

 

 

 

Kelly Elliott is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling contemporary romance author. Since finishing her bestselling Wanted series, Kelly continues to spread her wings while remaining true to her roots and giving readers stories rich with hot protective men, strong women and beautiful surroundings.

Her bestselling works include, Wanted, Broken, Without You, and Unconditional Love, to name just a few.

Kelly has been passionate about writing since she was fifteen. After years of filling journals with stories, she finally followed her dream and published her first novel, Wanted, in November of 2012.

Kelly lives in central Texas with her husband, daughter, and two pups. When she’s not writing, Kelly enjoys reading and spending time with her family. She is down to earth and very in touch with her readers, both on social media and at signings.

To find out more about Kelly and her books, you can find her through her website.

www.kellyelliottauthor.com

FACEBOOK | TWITTER| GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

 

Read the 1st Chapter of Almost Impossible by Nicole Williams!

 

 

June 19th 2018

 

 

AP new - synopsis.jpg

 

Fans of Sarah Dessen, Stephanie Perkins, and Jenny Han will delight as the fireworks spark and the secrets fly in this delicious summer romance from a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author.

When Jade decided to spend the summer with her aunt in California, she thought she knew what she was getting into. But nothing could have prepared her for Quentin. Jade hasn’t been in suburbia long and even she knows her annoying (and annoyingly cute) next-door neighbor spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

And when Quentin learns Jade plans to spend her first American summer hiding out reading books, he refuses to be ignored. Sneaking out, staying up, and even a midnight swim, Quentin is determined to give Jade days–and nights–worth remembering.

But despite their storybook-perfect romance, every time Jade moves closer, Quentin pulls away. And when rumors of a jilted ex-girlfriend come to light, Jade knows Quentin is hiding a secret–and she’s determined to find out what it is.

 

 

Anything was possible. At least that’s what it felt like.
Summer seventeen was going to be one for the record books. I already knew it. I could feel it—from the nervous-excited swirl in my stomach to the buzz in the air around me. This was going to be the summer—my summer.
“Last chance to cry uncle or forever hold your peace,” Mom sang beside me in the backseat of the cab we’d caught at the airport. Her hand managed to tighten around mine even more, cutting off the last bit of my circulation. If there
was any left.
I tried to look the precise amount of unsure before answering. “So long, last chance,” I said, waving out the window.
Mom sighed, squeezing my hand harder still. It was starting to go numb now. Summer seventeen might find me one hand short if Mom didn’t ease up on the death grip.
She and her band, the Shrinking Violets, were going to be touring internationally after finally hitting it big, but she was moping because this was the first summer we wouldn’t be together. Actually, it would be the first time we’d been apart ever.
I’d sold her on the idea of me staying in the States with her sister and family by going on about how badly I wanted to experience one summer as a normal, everyday American teenager before graduating from high school. One chance to
see what it was like to stay in the same place, with the same people, before I left for college. One last chance to see what life as an American teen was really like.
She bought it . . . eventually.
She’d have her bandmates and tens of thousands of adoring fans to keep her company—she could do without me for a couple of months. I hoped.
It had always been just Mom and me from day one. She had me when she was young—like young young—and even though her boyfriend pretty much bailed before the line turned pink, she’d done just fine on her own.
We’d both kind of grown up together, and I knew she’d missed out on a lot by raising me. I wanted this to be a summer for the record books for her, too. One she could really live up, not having to worry about taking care of her teenage
daughter. Plus, I wanted to give her a chance to experience what life without me would be like. Soon I’d be off to college somewhere, and I figured easing her into the empty-nester phase was a better approach than going cold turkey.
“You packed sunscreen, right?” Mom’s bracelets jingled as she leaned to look out her window, staring at the bright blue sky like it was suspect.
“SPF seventy for hot days, fifty for warm days, and thirty for overcast ones.” I toed the trusty duffel resting at my feet.It had traveled the globe with me for the past decade and had the wear to prove it.
“That’s my fair-skinned girl.” When Mom looked over at me, the crease between her eyebrows carved deeper with worry.
“You might want to check into SPF yourself. You’re not going to be in your mid thirties forever, you know?”
Mom groaned. “Don’t remind me. But I’m already beyond SPF’s help at this point. Unless it can help fix a saggy butt and crow’s-feet.” She pinched invisible wrinkles and wiggled her butt against the seat.
It was my turn to groan. It was annoying enough that people mistook us for sisters all the time, but it was worse that she could (and did) wear the same jeans as me. There should be some rule that moms aren’t allowed to takes clothes from the closets of their teenage daughters.
When the cab turned down Providence Avenue, I felt a sudden streak of panic. Not for myself, but for my mom.
Could she survive a summer when I wasn’t at her side, reminding her when the cell phone bill was due or updating her calendar so she knew where to be and when to be there? Would she be okay without me reminding her that fruits and vegetables were part of the food pyramid for a reason and
making sure everything was all set backstage?
“Hey.” Mom gave me a look, her eyes suggesting she could read my thoughts. “I’ll be okay. I’m a strong, empowered thirty-four-year-old woman.”
“Cell phone charger.” I yanked the one dangling from her oversized, metal-studded purse, which I’d wrapped in hot pink tape so it stood out. “I’ve packed you two extras to get you through the summer. When you get down to your last
one, make sure to pick up two more so you’re covered—”
“Jade, please,” she interrupted. “I’ve only lost a few. It’s not like I’ve misplaced . . .”
“Thirty-two phone chargers in the past five years?” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “I’ve got the receipts to prove it, too.”
Her mouth clamped closed as the cab rolled up to my aunt’s house.
“What am I going to do without you?” Mom swallowed, dropping her big black retro sunglasses over her eyes to hide the tears starting to form, to my surprise.
I was better at keeping my emotions hidden, so I didn’t dig around in my purse for sunglasses. “Um, I don’t know? Maybe rock a sold-out international tour? Six continents in three months? Fifty concerts in ninety days? That kind of
thing?”
Mom started to smile. She loved music—writing it, listening to it, playing it—and was a true musician. She hadn’t gotten into it to become famous or make the Top 40 or anything like that; she’d done it because it was who she was. She was the same person playing to a dozen people in a crowded café as she was now, the lead singer of one of the biggest bands in the world playing to an arena of thousands.
“Sounds pretty killer. All of those countries. All of that adventure.” Mom’s hand was on the door handle, but it looked more like she was trying to keep the taxi door closed than to open it. “Sure you don’t want to be a part of it?”
I smiled thinly back at my mom, her wild brown hair spilling over giant glasses. She had this boundless sense of adventure—always had and always would—so it was hard for her to comprehend how her own offspring could feel any different.
“Promise to call me every day and send me pictures?” I said, feeling the driver lingering outside my door with luggage in hand. This was it. Mom exhaled, lifting her pinkie toward me. “Promise.”
I curled my pinkie around hers and forced a smile. “Love
you, Mom.”
Her finger wound around mine as tightly as she had clenched my other hand on the ride here. “Love you no matter what.” Then she shoved her door open and crawled out, but not before I noticed one tiny tear escape her sunglasses.
By the time I’d stepped out of the cab, all signs of that tear or any others were gone. Mom did tears as often as she wrote moving love songs. In other words, never.
As she dug around in her purse for her wallet to pay the driver, I took a minute to inspect the house in front of me.
The last time we’d been here was for Thanksgiving three years ago. Or was it four? I couldn’t remember, but it was long enough to have forgotten how bright white my aunt and uncle’s house was, how the windows glowed from being so
clean and the landscaping looked almost fake it was so well kept.
It was pretty much the total opposite of the tour buses and extended-stay hotels I’d spent most of my life in. My mother, Meg Abbott, did not do tidy.
“Back zipper pocket,” I said as she struggled to find the money in her wallet.
“Aha,” she announced, freeing a few bills to hand to the driver, whose patience was wilting. After taking her luggage, she shouldered up beside me.
“So the neat-freak thing gets worse with time.” Mom gaped at the walkway leading up to the cobalt-blue front door, where a Davenport nameplate sparkled in the sunlight.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say most of the surfaces I’d eaten off of weren’t as clean as the stretch of concrete in front of me.
“Mom . . . ,” I warned, when she shuddered after she roamed to inspect the window boxes bursting with scarlet geraniums.
“I’m not being mean,” she replied as we started down the walkway. “I’m appreciating my sister’s and my differences.
That’s all.”
Right then, the front door whisked open and my aunt seemed to float from it, a measured smile in place, not a single hair out of place.
“Appreciating our differences,” Mom muttered under her breath as we moved closer.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the two sisters embraced.
Mom had long dark hair and fell just under the average-height bar like me. Aunt Julie, conversely, had light hair she kept swishing above her shoulders, and she was tall and thin. Her eyes were almost as light blue as mine, compared to Mom’s, which were almost as dark as her hair. It wasn’t only their physical differences that set them apart; it was everything. From the way they dressed Mom in some shade of dark, whereas the darkest color I’d ever seen Aunt Julie wear was periwinkle—to their taste in food, Mom was on the spicy end of the spectrum and Aunt Julie was on the mild.
Mom stared at Aunt Julie.
Aunt Julie stared back at Mom.
This went on for twenty-one seconds. I counted. The last stare-down four years ago had gone forty-nine. So this was progress.
Finally, Aunt Julie folded her hands together, her rounded nails shining from a fresh manicure. “Hello, Jade. Hello, Megan.”
Mom’s back went ramrod straight when Aunt Julie referred to her by her given name. Aunt Julie was eight years older but acted more like her mother than her sister.
“How’s it hangin’, Jules?”
Aunt Julie’s lips pursed hearing her little sister’s nickname for her. Then she stepped back and motioned inside. “Well?”
That was my cue to pick up my luggage and follow after Mom, who was tromping up the front steps. “Are we done already? Really?” she asked, nudging Aunt Julie as she passed.
“I’m taking the higher road,” Aunt Julie replied.
“What you call taking the higher road I call getting soft in your old age.” Mom hustled through the door after that, like she was afraid Aunt Julie would kick her butt or something.
The image of Aunt Julie kicking anything made me giggle to myself.
“Jade.” Aunt Julie’s smile was of the real variety this time as she took my duffel from me. “You were a girl the last time we saw you, and look at you now. All grown up.”
“Hey, Aunt Julie. Thanks again for letting me spend the summer with you guys,” I said, pausing beside her, not sure whether to hug her or keep moving. A moment of awkwardness passed before she made the decision for me by reaching out and patting my back. I continued on after that.
Aunt Julie wasn’t cold or removed; she just showed her affection differently. But I knew she cared about me and my mom. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t pick up the phone on the first ring whenever we did call every few months. She also wouldn’t have immediately said yes when Mom asked her a few months ago if I could spend the summer here.
“Let me show you to your room.” She pulled the door shut behind her and led us through the living room. “Paul and I had the guest room redone to make it more fitting for a teenage girl.”
“Instead of an eighty-year-old nun who had a thing for quilts and angel figurines?” Mom said, biting at her chipped black nail polish.
“I wouldn’t expect someone whose idea of a feng shui living space is kicking the dirty clothes under their bed to appreciate my sense of style,” Aunt Julie fired back, like she’d been anticipating Mom’s dig.
I cut in before they could get into it. “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt Julie. The guest room exactly the way it was would have been great.”
“Speaking of the saint also known as my brother-in-law, where is Paul?” Mom spun around, moving down the hall backward.
“At work.” Aunt Julie stopped outside of a room. “He wanted to be here, but his job’s been crazy lately.”
Aunt Julie snatched the porcelain angel Mom had picked up from the hall table. She carefully returned it to the exact same spot, adjusting it a hair after a moment’s consideration.
“Where are the twins?” I asked, scanning the hallway for Hannah and Hailey. The last time I’d seen them, they were in preschool but acted like they were in grad school or something. They were nice kids, just kind of freakishly well
behaved and brainy.
“At Chinese camp,” Aunt Julie answered.
“Getting to eat dim sum and make paper dragons?” Mom asked, sounding almost surprised.
Aunt Julie sighed. “Learning the Chinese language.” Aunt Julie opened a door and motioned me inside. I’d barely set one foot into the room before my eyes almost crossed from what I found.
Holy pink.
Hot pink, light pink, glittery pink, Pepto-Bismol pink—every shade, texture, and variety of pink seemed to be represented inside this square of space.
“What do you think?” Aunt Julie gushed, moving up
beside me with a giant smile.
“I love it,” I said, working up a smile. “It’s great. So great.
And so . . . pink.”
“I know, right?” Aunt Julie practically squealed. I didn’t know she was capable of anything close to that high-pitched.
“We hired a designer and everything. I told her you were a girly seventeen-year-old and let her do the rest.”
Glancing over at the full-length mirror framed in, you bet, fuchsia rhinestones, I wondered what about me led my aunt to classify me as “girly.” I shopped at vintage thrift stores, lived in faded denim and colors found in nature, not ones manufactured in the land of Oz. I was wearing sneakers, cut-offs, and a flowy olive-colored blouse, pretty much the other end of the spectrum. The last girly thing I’d done was wear makeup on Halloween. I was a zombie.
Beside me, Mom was gaping at the room like she’d walked in on a crime scene. A gruesome crime scene.
“What the . . . pink?” she edited after I dug an elbow
into her.
“You shouldn’t have.” I smiled at Aunt Julie when she turned toward me, still beaming.
“Yeah, Jules. You really shouldn’t have.” Mom shook her head, flinching when she noticed the furry pink stool tucked beneath the vanity that was resting beneath a huge cotton-candy-pink chandelier.
“It’s the first real bedroom this girl’s ever had. Of course I should have. I couldn’t not.” Aunt Julie moved toward the bed, fixing the smallest fold in the comforter.
“Jade’s had plenty of bedrooms.” Mom nudged me, glancing at the window. She was giving me an out. She had no idea how much more it would take than a horrendously pink room for me to want to take it.
“Oh, please. Harry Potter had a more suitable bedroom in that closet under the stairs than Jade’s ever had. You can’t consider something that either rolls down a highway or is bolted to a hotel floor an appropriate room for a young

woman.” Aunt Julie wasn’t in dig mode; she was in honest mode.
That put Mom in unleash-the-beast mode.
Her face flashed red, but before she could spew whatever
comeback she had stewing inside, I cut in front of her. “Aunt Julie, would you mind if Mom and I had a few minutes alone?
You know, to say good-bye and everything?”
As infrequently as we visited the house on Providence Avenue, I fell into my role of referee like it was second nature.
“Of course not. We’ll have lots of time to catch up.” Aunt Julie gave me another pat on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “We’ll have all summer.” She’d just disappeared when her head popped back in the doorway. “Meg, can I get you anything to drink before you have to dash?”
“Whiskey,” Mom answered intently.
Aunt Julie chuckled like she’d made a joke, continuing down the hall.
I dropped my duffel on the pink zebra-striped throw rug.
“Mom—”
“You grew up seeing the world. Experiencing things most people will never get to in their whole lives.” Her voice was getting louder with every word. “You’ve got a million times the perspective of kids your age. A billion times more compassion and an understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Who is she to make me out to be some inadequate parent when all she cares about is raising obedient, genius robots? She doesn’t know what it was like for me. How hard it was.”
“Mom,” I repeated, dropping my hands onto her shoulders as I looked her in the eye. “You did great.”
It took a minute for the red to fade from her face, then another for her posture to relax. “You’re great. I just tried not to get in the way too much and screw all that greatness up.”
“And if you must know, I’d take any of the hundreds of rooms we’ve shared over this pinktastrophe.” So it was kind of a lie, the littlest of ones. Sure, pink was on my offensive list, but the room was clean and had a door, and I would get to stay in the same place at least for the next few months. After living out of suitcases and overnight bags for most of my life, I was looking forward to discovering what drawer-and-closet living was like.
Mom threw her arms around me, pulling me in for one of those final-feeling hugs. Except this time, it kind of wasa final one. Realizing that made me feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball down my throat.
“I love you no matter what,” she whispered into my ear again, the same words she’d sang, said, or on occasion shouted at me. Mom never just said I love you. She had something
against those three words on their own. They were too open,
too loosely defined, too easy to take back when something
went wrong.
I love you no matter what had always been her way of telling me she loved me forever and for always. Unconditionally. She said that, before me, she’d never felt that type of love for anyone. What I’d picked up along the way on my own
was that I was the only one she felt loved her back in the
same way.
Squeezing my arms around my mom a little harder, I returned her final kind of hug. “I love you no matter what, too.”

 

AP new -about the author.jpg

 

Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

 

 

ArdentProse_LogoMain.jpg

 

Blog Tour ~ 4.5 Stars for Worth The Risk by K. Bromberg!

WorthTheRiskSBPRBTBanner“Bromberg is a master at turning up the heat.”

New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans

Worth the Risk, an all-new, sexy standalone about taking chances and finding love when it’s least expected, from New York Times bestselling author K. Bromberg, is LIVE!

KBROMBERG_worth_riskebook

Synopsis

This whole contest was supposed to be easy. I know, I know. Famous last words.

It’s a long story, but I messed up at work. Big time. To earn back the trust of my boss, I promised to save one of our magazines. Yep. That Hot Dad contest you’ve seen advertised all over the place was my idea. And if I’m successful, if I’m able to increase our online readership, then I get a shot at my dream job.

But the one thing I never expected to happen, happened: Contestant number ten, Grayson Malone. Hello, Mr. Difficult. And did I mention sexy as hell?

Unfortunately he knows me. The old me, anyway. And while we might be older now, I remind him of before. Of the woman who broke his heart, who hardened him, and who left him alone to raise the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen.

But I don’t want a relationship. And I definitely don’t fall for single dads with baggage. Even ones with chiseled abs and killer smiles.

But he got to me. They got to me. Him and his son and their messy, crazy life. But I got to him too. I see the stolen glances. I feel the walls he built start to crumble. I recognize that there’s an unexpected beauty to the chaos in his life.

And now that the contest is about to end, we’re left to decide whether the last six months were just fun or if what we have is worth risking it all?

My Review

4.5 Stars!

When I went into this book, I had not read it’s two predecessors about our hero’s brothers. So, honestly, I had no idea what to expect other than the fantastic writing of K. Bromberg.

I loved it!

Grayson is a single dad (one of my favorite tropes) who was wronged by his ex years ago, but never really got over it. Sidney, who coincidentally used to know Grayson in high school, returns to the small town where she grew up after screwing up and being banished to fix her mistakes by her father. When these two reunite, it isn’t exactly happy. In fact, Grayson slams the door on Sidney’s face, literally.

This book is so good. Grayson and Sidney are complex and flawed and yet they will make you fall in love with them, even when you don’t really lie them at certain times. Bromberg kept the secondary characters in the background which allowed Sid and Gray’s relationship to grow organically. The plot is good – single dad, opposites attract with a side of redemption and growth. I loved Luke (Gray’s kid). His role in the book was perfect and a little heartbreaking.

A really great book that will make you swoon.

Excerpt

But by the time I reach her, my blood boils with irrationality spurred on by too much alcohol.“Can I have a moment?” I ask as I walk up to her and grab her elbow, pushing her down the darkened hallway.“What is your problem?” She hisses as she fights me every step of the way.

We get looks. I get looks. I don’t care because all I keep seeing is Vince’s hands on her arm. His eyes on her tits. His bullshit game I can spot a mile away.

I find the closest door down the hallway leading to the bathrooms, and it opens. I push her through it, barely noticing that it’s an office of sorts before the door is shut, her back is up against it, and my mouth is covering hers.

Take.

Goddammit. That’s my only thought as I fit my lips to hers and take out my anger on her mouth with tongue and teeth and every fucking lick and nip in between.

“What—”

“I’m so pissed at you.”

It’s all I say. It’s the only chance I give her to come up for air before my lips are back on hers. Before my tongue wars with hers. Before my body admits it would beg, borrow, and steal in order to taste every other part of her.

Groan.

I swallow the tiny sound she makes in our kiss as my hands hold her neck still and my lips wage an all-out assault. She hesitates—just a split second—before she reacts. Before her body bows into me, and her mouth argues back.

Fist.

Her hand in my shirt. Her other hand at the back of my neck as our bodies meet—pressed knee to chest. Her perfume in my nose. Her hair tickling my cheeks. The feel of her tits against my chest.

Give.

I can’t get enough.

I’m mad at her.

I want her.

I don’t want to want her.

Christ, do I want her.

“Gray.” A murmured protest.

I tear my lips from hers, shove off the door I have her pressed against, and stride to the other side of the room.

“You are . . . you just . . .” It’s as if I can barely breathe. Christ, I’m mad at you.”

She stands there, lips parted, chest heaving, and golden brown curls messed from my hands, but her eyes look hurt. A hurt I don’t want to see but can’t deny.

“Why?”

“You did this,” I accuse as I try to manage the anger that’s waging a war against my desire.

“Did what?” Her eyes narrow. Her hand goes to press against her chest.

“Made me want you.”

for CGFC

Grayson: I’ve been thinking about you all day.

I look down at the text and smile before turning my attention back to Rissa and our plans for how we’re going to end this round of voting and move on to the top five.

“So, I think we close it out and then maybe take the next week and announce one of the finalists each day. Give little tidbits about each of them, make readers like them more, just have fun with it.”

My phone beeps again with another text, and I bite back the new grin trying to form on my lips. Rissa only huffs, eyeing my phone with annoyance. “Sorry, let me turn my ringer off.”

And then I have to feign nonchalance when I look down at my phone and find another text.

Grayson: My dick is rock hard, and it’s you I’m imagining. It’s in my hand when I’d rather it be in your mouth with my fingers in your pussy, working you into a frenzy.

“Is everything okay?” Rissa asks, making me realize I must have made a noise when I read the text. “You look startled.”

I glance back at the text again and shake my head while every part of my body comes to life. “Yeah, it’s, uh, fine.”

“Your ringer.” Her brows are lifted as she glances to my phone and then back to me.

My finger?” I squeak, thinking she saw the phone screen.

“Ringer. Sound on your phone.”

“Oh, yes . . . sorry.” Flustered, I fumble with my cell, and before I can even switch it off, another text alert pings.

Grayson: I want to bend you over and watch as my cock slides in and out of you.

“So back to next week . . .”

“Yes,” I swallow over the desire lodged in every place it should be and try not to glance at my phone as it vibrates again.

“Are you good with that plan?” Rissa asks as I shift in my seat to abate the sudden ache burning brighter than bright.

“Yes. Sure. I think that sounds like a great plan.”

Grayson: I want my cock buried so deep that you feel every damn inch of me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?” My voice breaks like a prepubescent teenager.

Grayson: I want you to come so hard you have to bite the pillow.

“You look a little flushed. Are you coming down with something?”

Grayson: You always have a choice. Isn’t that what you said to me once? Make a choice, Sidney. Isn’t it time to head to lunch?

“I mean, yeah, maybe.” I pull at my collar some. “Maybe that’s why I feel so flushed all of a sudden.”

Grayson: Meet me on the backside of The Cottages. Room Six. Fifteen minutes.

“Either that,” she says as she stands and heads to the door, only turning back to give me a wink, “or you’re guilty as hell. Maybe you should go take care of that itch texting you . . . or take some Tylenol. Whichever one it is, I think you should take the afternoon off.”

Grayson: Choose me.

“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can think to say because my brain is otherwise occupied imagining Grayson following through on his promises.

“And, Sid?”

“Yeah?”

“I sure hope he’s every bit worth breaking the rules.” She winks. “It’s about damn time. Your secret is safe with me.”

Buy Your Copy Today!

Amazon US I Amazon Universal I iBooks I Nook I Kobo

Add to GoodReads

Text Kbromberg to 77948 to stay up to date on all things, Driven movies and new releases!

kitchencouple_available_now

About K. Bromberg

K. Bromberg Author PhotoNew York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.

She is currently working on her Everyday Heroes trilogy. This series consists of three complete standalone novels—Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit (late spring 2018)—and is about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

Connect with K. Bromberg

Website I Facebook I Twitter I Instagram I Amazon Author I GoodReads

Join her Reader Group I Sign up for her Newsletter

Now Available ~ Breath of Deceit by Selena Laurence

This mafia prince is stealing hearts and saving lives…
Breath of Deceit by Selena Laurence is AVAILABLE NOW!

ONLY ON AMAZON!
US → https://amzn.to/2H2m7A4
UK → https://amzn.to/2G8uRn1
CA → https://amzn.to/2G85TEk
AU → https://amzn.to/2wxL5qj

KU subscriber? Read Breath of Deceit for #FREE!!!

BLURB:

Cian MacFarlane is the oldest son of Chicago’s reigning crime family. Now the defacto boss of the organization after his father’s retirement, Cian is feared by his enemies and revered by his brothers. But what if Cian isn’t all he seems to be? What if his end game isn’t to maintain his father’s empire but to topple it? As the MacFarlanes broker a deal with the owner of the world’s largest dark web site, Cian brokers a deal with the FBI. But when he meets Lila Rodriguez, a genius hacker working with the dark web, his feelings for her only make life more complex.

Determined to save his brothers, even if it means sacrificing himself, Cian lives moment to moment in a deadly underworld of cybercrime, drug deals, federal agents, and a vengeful parent who won’t hesitate to remind his oldest son what it means to be a MacFarlane. Through it all, Cian fights for his brothers to make it out of Chicagoland crime. But will the pieces fall into place before his breath of deceit is discovered?

*Breath of Deceit is the first volume of The Dublin Devils Series and contains an HEA for certain characters, but readers are forewarned that the MacFarlane family story will continue in three additional novels.

About Selena

Selena is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author who writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense as Selena Laurence, and paranormal/UF as Eden Laine. She loves mocha lattes, the mountains in Colorado where she lives, and her Goldendoodle. Her favorite city is London, her favorite color is purple, and her favorite shoes are Converse, but really anything that will get her feet from point A to point B works.

Find Selena Online!
Amazon → https://amzn.to/2qzA01B
BookBub → http://bit.ly/2H2Q3w4
Facebook → http://bit.ly/2IXZ4XE
Goodreads → http://bit.ly/2HlST2z
Instagram → http://bit.ly/2qzo0ya
Twitter → http://bit.ly/2qzZzzT
Website → https://selenalaurence.com

Preorder Alert! End Game by Toni Aleo is releases June 12th!

End Game by Toni Aleo is releasing on JUNE 12th!
PREORDER NOW!

Amazon → https://amzn.to/2HDVJBa
iBooks → https://apple.co/2I1vio7
Nook → http://bit.ly/2r9R7Iy
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2vZdcyy

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2vXEBkd

This is going to be Ryan Justice’s year. It’s his last year of college and his last year as a hockey player for the Bellevue Bullies. He’s making all the plays in preparation for achieving his dream of being drafted into the NHL.

This is Sofia Castilleja’s beginning. She is starting her college career as a star member of Bellevue’s brand-new gymnastics team. She’s going to tumble her way to success, first in school and then by realizing her dream of opening her own gym.

Ryan and Sofia didn’t see each other coming, but once they meet, they can’t look away. Their dreams are destined to take them in opposite directions. But it doesn’t take them long to realize that waking up to reality together may be better than dreaming alone.

 

About the Author:

My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

Connect with Toni!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tonialeo1
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ToniAleo1
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/toni_aleo/
Intagram: https://instagram.com/tonialeo1/
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2yGqqR6

New Release ~ Second Star to the Right by Wendy Gold

Wendy Gold is stopping by to celebrate the release of SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: SECOND START TO THE RIGHT

Author: Wendy Gold

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Second Star to the Right:

Peter Michaels, Hollywood stuntman and sword fight choreographer, harbors a secret—he’s the real Peter Pan, the boy who in fact grew up. Far from Neverland and forced to hide his secret, he distances himself from others for fear of being rejected for who he truly is. That is, until he meets Vivien Kelly.

 

Viv, A-list Hollywood royalty, is determined to branch out into directing, but her steampunk version of Peter Pan is doomed. If bratty kids and demanding studio executives weren’t bad enough, and Peter’s generous nature and easygoing attitude is distracting her from her work.

 

Soon Peter starts to melt her heart and Viv fantasizes about a fairy tale ending of her own. But will Peter’s secret tear them apart? Will he leave her for a world of fairies and pixie dust when Peter knows that saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting each other forever?

Get Your Copy Today:

Amazon | Kobo | iBooks | Nook

Exclusive Excerpt:

“Jack, I’ll clean up here. Why don’t you head out early for the night? Go take your girlfriend out somewhere nice. It’s a Friday night.” Peter’s voice boomed around the studio as he walked out of the supply closet, his scabbard buckled back into place. He walked past Viv, his stare focused on his office door where Jack emerged. He hadn’t seen her.

“You sure?” Jack’s voice echoed back.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you on set Monday. And bring your cup. Erin’s a sadistic little brat. She’d take a hard poke at your balls and call it an accident.”

Viv bit her cheek, trying not to laugh. The little girl would do something exactly like that. And with her big, blue eyes, everyone would believe it really was just an accident.

Jack laughed. “All right, man. See you Monday. Have a good weekend,” he said as he walked out of the studio, the door closing behind him.

Peter watched Jack shut the door before he slipped a longsword from a scabbard mounted along the wall, the silver metal gleaming opal in the light. This was no pirate swashbuckler sword. This was one of hard medieval lines, belonging to a knight or a king.

The tip of the sword rose above Peter’s head, the hilt trapped between his strong hands. He wielded it with such grace and ease. Silent. Powerful. Each swish and thrust into the open air part of a deadly dance.

His movements flowed, like water ran through his veins. These movements were different from his sword fight with Jack. These were slow, almost delicate. The blade sliced in perfect precision, as if Peter battled an invisible ghost.

Viv’s heart thudded in her chest, the only sound she heard besides the whooshing of Peter’s weapon. She stepped forward, mesmerized by the sword’s dance.

“I was wondering when you’d come out of hiding.” Peter’s voice broke the spell. His sword continued to split the air around him, his gaze focused on the blade rather than her.

Viv jerked back to reality. In her trance, she’d stepped onto the mat, a dozen feet away from Peter. Her blush pricked at the back of her neck, disappearing somewhere below her ponytail. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“No, you weren’t. Pick up the sword over there.” Peter pointed somewhere across the room, his eyes still focused on his invisible opponent.

Viv walked around the mat and saw another sword, similar in fashion but with different details. Long. Thin. Her hand wrapped around the hilt and lifted it.

Heavy.

She grasped the hilt with both hands and struggled to raise the metal sword upright. How did he wield this like it was as light a feather?

“Now come out onto the mat.” He lowered his blade and turned to watch her, their gazes locking as Viv moved.

Her arm muscles cried out in protest as the weight of the sword wobbled from one hand to the other. “You make it look easy.”

She let the weight of the sword tug her arm down, the tip thumping against the foam mat as it hung useless in her hand.

“Hold on.” Peter held out his hand to take her sword. “I have a better idea.”

Viv offered the sword to him, the tip still on the ground. He picked the sword up from her grip and held both longswords in one hand, raising them and resting the dulled edges on his shoulders before smirking and walking back to the storage room.

“Showoff,” she said, her voice bouncing around her.

Peter’s laugh echoed like deep chamber music. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the tiny room. A minute later, he returned with two long fencing rapiers. “These should be easier.” He tossed one to her.

She caught the edge of the handle, but it bounced off her hand and clattered onto the mat beside her. She blushed again as she lifted the sword by the hilt. Thin. Flexible. And much more lightweight. She lifted it with ease, raising it in front of her.

Peter circled around her, his own sword in hand.

Her body honed in on his every movement. Every shift of his feet. Every tilt of the sword. Every flicker of his eyes. His gaze burned into her, stripping her bare as she stood rooted to the floor. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. His piercing stare locked her in place. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she wondered if he could hear it too. Butterflies yawned and woke in her belly, tickling her from the inside.

“You’re ready for me,” he smirked, stopping in front of her before taking two steps back. He raised his sword, the thin blade blazing orange in the setting sunlight.

Viv raised the blade to match his. She lunged.

He struck her blade with his, moving it out of the way with no effort. His smile twitched into a wicked smirk. He lunged for her.

Viv flung her sword upward, the blades catching on one another. The light caught in the middle of the swords, a large metal X locking over them. Peter stepped closer, pressing more of his strength into the blade.

Viv’s grip slipped a bit, but she pushed her arms forward to keep the blades pressed together.

“Clever girl,” Peter growled before his sword sliced through the air and cut his words. He stepped back, eyeing her. Waiting for her next move.

Viv slid to the side, but Peter’s sword blocked her blow with ease, his smile teasing her. She knew this was child’s play for him. She wanted to make it a bit more difficult. “Don’t go so easy on me,” she panted. Her lungs burned from the exertion and her muscles hummed like a bow playing over violin strings.

“Darling, I’m only just getting started on you.”

 

 

About Wendy Gold:

Wendy writes the three “S”s: Smart, Sassy, and Sexy. Her sensual stories leave readers with fluttering hearts and wet panties.

When she’s not home enjoying a Ménage à Trois (the wine not the act), Wendy likes long walks through her gritty neighborhood in the heart of Philly or blasting heavy rock music in her house. Her readers love her, but her neighbors do not.

Connect with Wendy:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

Enter Wendy’s Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

New release ~ Rough Edge by CD Reiss

ROUGH EDGE RELEASE BANNER2.jpg

“My new obsession. I’m eating every word of this series and begging for more.” 

— Alessandra Torre, New York Times bestselling author

rough-edge-one-final.jpg

New York Times Bestseller CD Reiss goes back to her roots with a dark, intense tale that breaks boundaries and shatters expectations in Rough Edge.

Who do you love?

The decent man you married?

The surgeon shattered during the war?

The emotionless Dominant who appears in his eyes more and more often?

All of them?

Even when he breaks you?

Even when he makes you beg?

Is there no pain or pleasure he cannot deliver?

What will you sacrifice to heal him?

Will he sacrifice his sanity to protect you from the exquisite torture of his cruel hands?

This is more than a marriage.

It’s a crack at the edges of the mind and heart.

It’s a promise written in the heavens and a wound splitting the sky.

Love may be the death of both of you.

rough-edge-available-now.jpg

Grab Your Copy Today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GCc8ke

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/RoughEdge

Print: https://amzn.to/2IAMfHk

iBooks: https://apple.co/2Gn6eDW

Nook: https://bit.ly/2J4nShw

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2GgCLeX

Google Play: https://bit.ly/2pQwIHf

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2vhJ68W

ROUGH EDGE TEASER WAR.jpg

About the Author

CD Reiss is a New York Times bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

_21A6258_pp-fb.jpg

Connect with CD Reiss:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iwpkPQ
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CDReiss.writer/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cdreisswriter
Instagram: https://instagram.com/cdreiss/
Website: www.cdreiss.com
Newsletter: https://cdreiss.com/cd-reiss-mailing-list-signup/

Read an excerpt from Erika Wilde’s Tall, Dark & Charming!

TallDarkCharming-SBPRBANNER-EREWTallDarkCharmingCover5x8_HIGHTall, Dark and Charming, an all-new sexy standalone from Erika Wilde, is coming June 5th!

Aiden Stone loves life as a bachelor and has no intentions of settling down anytime soon. He has a great job and a career he enjoys, and women adore him . . . except for Daisy Parker, who doesn’t seem fazed by his flirtatious attempts or the sexy smile that normally has panties dropping to the floor. She’s a tougher nut to crack, but the fact that she seems immune to his charm only fascinates him more . . . until one hot unexpected encounter with her blows his mind and gives them both more than just a night of pleasure. Because Daisy is now his baby momma, and his life is about to change in ways he’d never anticipated.

Excerpt

“Enough about work. I say we move on to other pleasures,” Aiden said with a flirtatious gleam in his eyes. “What’ll you have to drink? Your normal white wine spritzer?”

Yep, she really was totally predictable and boring, because that was always her go-to drink during their monthly mixers with clients, or when some of their co-workers went out after work for a cocktail, and he’d obviously noticed her light-weight choice. Her limit was always one, and she was usually the first to leave those social gatherings, citing an early morning.

Predictable and boring had been her life for the past three years because it was a safe place to be, but tonight, being in a different city and away from her normal routine and weighty expectations prompted her to be daring.

“I think I’ll have a Moscow mule,” she said, stepping completely outside of her square little box.

He arched a dark brow, the amusement in his eyes warm and playful. “Wow, walking on the wild side tonight, huh?”

She laughed, the sound huskier than she’d intended. “Sure. Why not.”

“Why not, indeed,” he murmured, looking at her as if he was seeing someone other than the reserved woman he’d worked with the past three years before motioning to the bartender.

“What can I get you two?” the older gentleman asked as he set a small square napkin on the counter in front of each of them.

“Two Moscow mules,” Aiden said, surprising Daisy by ordering one for himself.

“You like them, too?” she asked once the bartender left them to make their drinks. With a mixture of vodka, spicy ginger beer, and lime juice, it was usually an acquired taste.

“Never had one,” he admitted, flashing her a dimpled grin that caused a warm tickle in her belly. “But if you’re taking a walk on the wild side tonight, then I’m joining you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m such a rebel,” she scoffed, then shook her head at that absurd notion and laughed. “Okay, let’s be real. I’m so not rebellious.”

“I know, which is why I’m not letting you indulge alone,” he teased, leaning his forearm on the countertop. “You know what they say . . . friends don’t let friends get drunk alone.”

Her lips quirked at his explanation. “Umm, can’t say I’ve ever heard that quote before.”

“Just go with it, Daisy,” he encouraged, swiveling his chair so that his body was turned toward her, though she remained sitting straight because if she did rotate her seat his way, his legs would end up bracketing hers. “Besides, I don’t want to be the responsible sober one if you do something crazy, like dance on one of the tabletops. I want to watch and cheer you on.”

Her cheeks warmed at the notion of doing something so impulsive, but mostly at the thought of Aiden encouraging her brazen behavior and having his eyes on her while she shimmied her body and tempted him to end her three year dry spell. Yeah, as if that would ever happen. Judging by the beautiful, sophisticated, svelte women she’d seen him with, she was so not his type.

“So, truthfully?” he said, his voice effectively snapping her out of her little fantasy, even though the residual scrape of her tight, hard nipples against the cups of her bra was distracting as hell. “I’ve always been curious to know what a Moscow mule tasted like.”

“You didn’t have to order one,” she told him with a laugh. “I would have given you a sip of mine.”

“Mmm . . . I don’t think I should be putting my lips on your lips,” he said, his voice dipping sensually low as his gaze skimmed across her mouth before lifting to her eyes again. “Well, not technically, anyways, but if you shared, I might not be able to stop at one taste, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Daisy’s pulse stuttered, then resumed at a faster, more arousing pace. Oh. My. God. Were they even talking about the Moscow mule anymore? She was used to the occasional teasing exchange with Aiden at work where there were a dozen other people around so it never felt personal. But now that it was just the two of them, without anyone else around to buffer his comments and the situation, she wasn’t sure what to make of this more intimate dialogue . . . except to admit that it was making her very aware of how much she missed this kind of connection with a man . . . especially the physical one. And how much she liked Aiden’s attention.

The bartender delivered their drinks, and both she and Aiden picked up their highball glasses and took a sip of the Moscow mule. The taste of vodka was strong, but the spicy ginger beer and lime gave it an interesting twist of flavor. It took Aiden three sips, taken with a furrowed, uncertain brow, before he finally, slowly, nodded his head in approval.

“It’s definitely different, but I like the kick of spice.” He shifted his gaze from the drink, to her. “Who knew beneath those conservative suits you wear that you were a woman who liked a little spice in her life.”

His eyes twinkled mischievously, though there was something more heated simmering beneath the amber hue as he maintained eye contact with her. As if he was testing just how far she’d allow this arousing banter between them to go. If she’d play it off like she normally did, or if she’d dare to take a walk on the wild side, as he’d suggested earlier.

The thought was appealing, especially in a city and environment where no one knew them. Deciding to just go with the flow of flirty conversation and enjoy the evening away from work, obligations, and responsibilities, she took another swallow of her drink and smiled at him. “That’s because you’ve never seen me out of my business attire.”

TallDarkCharming-PreOrder

Preorder Today!

Amazon US I Amazon Universal I iBooks I Nook I Kobo I Google Play

Add to GoodReads

Meet Erika Wilde

Erika Wilde (aka Janelle Denison) is the USA Today bestselling author of over 50 contemporary romances for multiple print publishers.

Connect with Erika Wilde

Sign up for Erika’s Newsletter
Join Erika’s Private Fan Page – Books & Exclusive Giveaways!
Friend Erika on Facebook
Twitter
Erika’s Website

New Release ~ 3.5 Stars for Follow Your Arrow by A. M. Willard

Release Date: May 22, 2018

Cover Design: MadHat Books

Synopsis

All I wanted to do was run my bookstore, forget my failed marriage, and escape my past. But life on a tiny island makes that tough, especially when rumors are swirling that Justin Albott, famous mystery writer and my first love, is returning to the island.

I’ve watched his career. Stocked my bookstore with hardcovers that bear his glossy photo. There seems to be two sides to his personality. The online persona, who smiles when prompted, and the one that I remember—the thief of hearts. The one who just walked into my store and crooked that familiar grin.

We’ve both changed over the years. I’m no longer married, and he’s no longer the boy who left me behind.

I’d give anything to know why he’s really come back and if that kiss between us was real.

My Review

 

3.5 Stars!

Lots of feels with this second chance romance. Justing left Leslie behind on the island where they grew up. He went off to make a name for himself as a writer and she stayed behind running a bookstore. She sold his books, a reminder of what she lost every day. She married, but the marriage failed. Now, Justin in back and old feelings return.

This is a good, old-fashioned second chance romance with heartbreak, regret and linger feelings. Leslie is a bit wishy-washy and I had a hard time connecting with her. Justin was kind and patient, too patient, in my opinion. But, I guess we do crazy things for love. Nonetheless, the book was good. It kept my interest, had feeling the feels and cheering for their HEA.

Goodreads

http://bit.ly/2GHOJBG

 

Purchase Links

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2LhupXC

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2rXBZgX

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2IOibaz

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2IwJJBO

Nook: http://bit.ly/2k8OiUb

iBooks: https://apple.co/2nFCR7S

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2rW4Nr7

Kobo: Coming Soon

 

 

Giveaway

$25 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/5a4f98a79/?

 

About the Author

Bestselling Author, A.M. Willard resides in Savannah, Georgia. She joined the Peach State many years ago after leaving the crystal blue waters and sugary white sand behind from the Panhandle of Florida. She’s also known for being a wife, mother, and caretaker for her farm animals. A.M. loves anything sassy, glittery, and is a sucker for the Hallmark Channel. That last one might be the reason she believes in soulmates or it could be because she married her high school sweetheart for twenty years ago.

After releasing her first novella series back in 2014, A.M. set out on a new goal to bring her readers a broad range of romantic stories from her desk. This includes Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance, and from time to time some Sexy Romance.

A.M. is an active member of RWA (Romance Writers of America).

 

Connect with A.M. Willard

Newsletter Sign Up: http://bit.ly/2eIn2wH
Facebook Author Page: http://bit.ly/2s1tFLr
Facebook Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2eDhrnM
Goodreads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2xN42BV
Twitter: http://bit.ly/2w4ovjP
Instagram: http://bit.ly/2j10sRz
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2xMQV3H
BookBub Author Page: http://bit.ly/2iZUbW6