The Boys of Summer - Copy

Check out the cover and read an excerpt from Sara Ney’s upcoming book ~ The Learning Hours!

 

He’s not a douchebag;

but that doesn’t stop his friends from

turning him into one.

 

 

MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID.

So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters:

Are you the lucky lady who’s going to break our roommate’s cherry?

Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: must have pulse. Text him at: 555-254-5551

The morons can’t even spell. And the texts I’ve been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I’m not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

THIS ISN’T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT.

One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can’t bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white.

 

However, after seeing her in person, I know she’s not the girl for me. But my friends won’t let up—they just don’t get it. Douchebags or not, there’s one thing they’ll never understand: GIRLS DON’T WANT ME.

Especially her.

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He’s seated at a table in the far corner when I spot him from the door. He’s not hard to miss—not with his purple t-shirt in a sea of black and yellow, and wavy mussed hair.

He’s slouching, hunched over his table.

Defeated. Tired.

My stomach rolls with nerves, nerves that have me rooted to the spot in the doorway, watching him.
Just watching.

For the entire four minutes I stand here, he sits immobile, studying his laptop, eyes moving along the screen, completely transfixed by whatever he’s reading.

Learning.

“Just go over there,” I whisper to myself, blowing out a puff of pent-up air.

I put one foot in front of the other and begin toward him, spine ramrod straight, steeling myself, prepared for another argument.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen.

Eight.

Two.

“Hi.”

No reply.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I lay my hand on the back of the wooden chair across from him, intending to pull it out.

He stiffens but doesn’t lift his head. “Yes I mind.”

“Would you mind if I sat at the table next to you?” I’m pushing his buttons, looking for a reaction, but he only spares me a brief glance.

Shrugs. “Free country.”

I bite my lip to hide a smile, glad he didn’t tell me to take a hike…

 

 

 

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

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The Boys of Summer - Copy

Read an excerpt from Jami Davenport’s upcoming release ~ Sacked in Seattle!

SACKED_ExcerptBANNER

Are you ready to be SACKED?
Sacked in Seattle is an emotional romance that is about more than just sports!
Keep reading for an excerpt
Release Date: August 24th

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Sacked_PROMO2

He’s loved Tiff since high school–but tragedy has blockaded her heart.

Tyee University football player Riley Black has adored Tiff since high school, but she’s never felt the same way. As Riley enters his senior year of college, he’s finally moving on and enjoying the perks of being a star athlete. Until one glimpse of Tiff unearths all those old feelings of longing and desire, not to mention the trauma of their shared past.

Tiffani Vernon has been running from her demons for seven years. When she’s forced to return to Seattle for financial reasons and attend the same college as Riley, she’s confronted with the traumatic event which has shaped her future and scarred her memories of Riley. Tiff struggles to avoid her secret high school crush, but he’s not having any of it. He’s pursuing her with a relentless determination to prove once and for all, they were meant to be together.

Can love finally heal their wounds or will they succumb to the pain and forever wonder what could have been?

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EXCERPT:

Chapter 1—Running

* Riley *

Life-changing moments can be as obvious as a guy holding a gun to your forehead or as subtle as glimpsing a face in a crowd.

That gun and that face haunted my nights and often my days.

I hadn’t laid eyes on Tiffani Vernon since the night of our high school graduation over three years ago. She couldn’t leave Seattle fast enough, while I’d never considered going anywhere else. Seattle was the only real home I’d ever known, and I wanted to stay here and make things better. Face my fears head on. You know, crap like that.

Tiff ran from her fears, and our last night together had been epic, unforgettable, and scary as shit. She sped out of town and never looked back—especially not at me.

I knew why. It wasn’t personal, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

I reminded her of that horrible, awful day when our lives hung in the balance, the world shifted in a matter of minutes, and nothing would ever be the same again.

And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Except move on.

And I had.

Or I thought I had, until I saw her standing across that proverbial crowded room. Our eyes met. Her brown ones to my blue ones. Recognition flashed in her eyes, then panic. Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something. Her expression went soft with regret. Shaking her head, she turned and ran, weaving through the crowd faster than a running back angling for the end zone. Her little pink skirt swished back and forth, calling attention to her fine ass and shapely legs. She was so smoking hot, heads swiveled as she passed.

Pain stabbed deep in my gut. Memories flooded back and slammed me to the turf, leaving me stuck to the beer-soaked floor. Graduation night. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as she gave herself to me, body and soul. I lost myself inside her, certain we’d be together forever. She left town the next morning, and I never saw her again.

Squelching that memory, I stood alone in a crowd of people, hearing nothing, sensing nothing, seeing nothing but the place where she’d stood a second ago. People elbowed me in their haste to get to the keg of beer I was blocking.

I shook my head, attempting to clear it.

She couldn’t be here.

She should be at USC starting her senior year, just as I was starting mine at the Ty, what us locals call Tyee University on Lake Union in Seattle.

She’d traded the rain and mud for sun and sand, and she’d traded me for surfer dudes and Hollywood wannabes.

But now she was back.

My feet refused to follow my orders. All I could do was gape open-mouthed like some creep with a stalker crush. There’d been other times I’d sworn I’d seen her, only to race after her and embarrass the hell out of myself when I found out the poor girl I’d dogged wasn’t Tiffani.

But we’d locked gazes this time, and there wasn’t any doubt in my mind. She was here. I tried to swallow, clear my throat, gulp in some oxygen. I swear my organs were either shutting down or going into overload. My heart slammed in my chest as if building to detonation, and my head pounded to the beat of the music in the room.

Oblivious to my disinterest, the blonde who’d been hustling me all night leaned in closer and gripped my arm. She slipped her tongue in my ear while her hand migrated to my crotch. I gave her a gentle shove, not giving one shit how rude my behavior was, even though I usually prided myself on being a nice guy.

“Later,” I told her and pushed through the throng of frat-house party-goers.

Almost frantic, I shoved my way to where I’d last seen her and caught a flash of blonde hair as she slipped out the door. I dashed after her down the sidewalk into the street and glanced left and right. She was gone, vanished into thin air as if she’d never existed. I waited five, then ten minutes, she never reappeared.

With a sigh, I trudged back to the party, ignoring the curious stares of the guys. I sank onto the couch in the living room, next to a couple of teammates, and faked interest in a football game on TV. My heart thudded wildly, and my hand shook as I lifted a pizza slice to my lips.

My eyes met the concerned blue gaze of my best friend, Gage Harmon, the team quarterback, campus man slut, and proud of both titles. He was chewing slowly and staring at me as if he expected me to strip naked and dance on the table while stone-cold sober.

“You okay, Ry man?”

“Yeah, fine. Thought I saw someone. I was wrong.”

One brow crept upward, disappearing under his messy blond hair. “Female?”

I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze on the off-chance he’d see the pathetic truth and peg me for the idiot I was. What kind of loser pines after a girl this long when he has the world at his feet?

This loser.

Tiff was the only girl I’d ever truly loved.

And I’d never stopped loving her, as fucked up as that was.

* Tiff *

Running into Riley Black was inevitable. The Tyee campus was big, but obviously not big enough. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him during my first week of classes. I’d carefully avoided the areas where he might be hanging out, such as Greek Row, and opted for an off-campus apartment. I planned my classes to avoid being near the football field and gym in the afternoons when he’d most likely be practicing. I timed everything with careful attention to detail and avoidance. Lot of good that did me.

Coming to this party had been a lapse in judgment. I should’ve known he’d be here. Maybe I secretly hoped to run into him, just to torture myself. Maybe I was all kinds of screwed up.

Okay, well, that’s stating the obvious. Ask my family. Ask my counselor. Ask my horse. They’d all agree. I, Tiffani Grace Vernon, was one fucked-up girl, and years of therapy had barely put a dent in my tormented past. Through no fault of his own, Riley brought back every traumatic memory of that fateful day when my charmed life became a living nightmare. He was a victim as much as I was.

Now, here we were. At the same frat party. I shouldn’t have come.

Our eyes met, and recognition instantly lit up his gaze. Those same cobalt blue eyes had studied me intently from across the room in our high school biology class. They’d watched me ride my horse in endless circles at the arena near his aunt’s house. Those same eyes had opened wide in horror as my ex-boyfriend, also his teammate, pointed a gun at each of us, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The loud bang had deafened me, and the smell of iron had filled my nostrils, followed by the wrenching pain of being slammed to the ground.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Seeing him brought it all back as if it had happened six minutes ago instead of almost seven years.

Maybe seeing me did the same for him, too? He’d gaped at me like he’d seen a ghost. Momentarily frozen in shock, his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Not that I would have heard him over the sea of drunken partygoers and the roar in my ears.

My brain clawed at the last shred of sanity as wave after wave of dizziness sucked me deeper into a swirling abyss of darkness. My lungs begged for oxygen until I had to be blue in the face. My legs wobbled, and I stuck out a hand to steady myself. Swaying like a drunken sailor, I accidentally buried my fingers in some sorority girl’s cleavage. She raised her hand to take a swing at me but was too wasted to come close.

“You stupid, perverted bitch.”

Whatever. She was the least of my worries.

The music was so loud, no one paid attention to us. I wasn’t a fighter, and the time had come to get my ass out of here, not so much to run from her—I could handle her—but to get away from him and the demons nipping at my heels

I abandoned my beer on a windowsill and shoved my way through the crowd, desperate to exit as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley dodging people in the crowd with deft footwork that would do any running back proud. Only he wasn’t a running back. He was a tight end. The starting tight end for Tyee University. A big man on campus with an NHL star uncle.

And I was—

Nobody.

And I planned on keeping it that way. I didn’t have any interest in being in the spotlight or even in a flashlight.

It’d been a mistake to enroll here, but I hadn’t had a choice. My parents’ divorce had been costly, leaving no money for out-of-state tuition. So here was I was. Back in the area I both loved and despised among the best of memories drowned out by the worst of tragedies with the one person who played a part in both.

I ran out the door and down the front steps, knowing he was only seconds behind. Glancing around desperately, I dived into some bushes in front of the apartment building next to the frat house and huddled in the darkness.

I waited what seemed like hours.

Finally, I peeked through the branches of the bush. Riley stood there, several feet away, gazing down the street with such profound sadness, you’d think he’d lost his best friend. His big hands hung loosely at his sides. He still had that one lock of dark hard that refused to stay in place. He looked the same, but different. A familiar face, yet a stranger.

Shaking his head, Riley trudged back inside, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging.

I almost ran after him—almost—but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t invite the one person back into my life who could destroy every bit of progress I’d made since high school. Even worse, I couldn’t drag him down with me.

I waited long after he’d gone inside before creeping along the side of the building, and around the corner. I ran the several blocks home and collapsed on my bed. Only then did the wrenching sobs shake my body and wring every bit of emotion from my soul until nothing was left but bone-deep weariness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

USA Today Bestselling Author Jami Davenport writes sexy contemporary, sports, and new adult romances, including her two new indie endeavors: the Game On in Seattle series and the Men of Tyee series. Jami lives on a small farm near Puget Sound with her Green Beret-turned-plumber husband, a Newfoundland dog with a tennis-ball fetish, and a prince disguised as an orange tabby cat. She works in computer support in her day job and juggles too many balls, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Connect with Jami!

Subscribe to my newsletter to receive a free novel and be notified of new releases, special sales, and contests: http://eepurl.com/LpfaL

Website Address: http://www.jamidavenport.com
Twitter Address: @jamidavenport
Facebook Address: http://www.facebook.com/jamidavenport
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/jamidavenport/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1637218.Jami_Davenport

The Boys of Summer - Copy

Read an excerpt from Meghan March’s upcoming release ~ Beneath the Truth!

 

 

 

From USA Today bestselling author Meghan March comes the final sexy standalone set in the Beneath world of New Orleans.

I used to believe there were lines in life you don’t cross.
Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Don’t steal.
Until I learned people don’t always practice what they preach.
I turned in my badge and gun and walked away from everything.
Then I got the call no one wants, and I’m back in New Orleans.
What I don’t expect is for her to be here too.
Another line you don’t cross?
Don’t touch your best friend’s little sister.
She’s always been off-limits.
Too bad I don’t follow the rules anymore.

Add to Goodreads

 

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“Fine. If you don’t want to play me, I’m sure there’s someone in this bar who will.”

She rose from the bar stool and smoothed her dress down her thighs. I swore it looked longer at the cemetery than it did right now, inching up her toned legs. The shoulders and chest were sheer black lace, as sophisticated as could be, but the lace took on a sexier edge in the dim light of the bar. I’d lay money on her being the classiest thing this place had ever seen. And damn, what those heels did for her . . .

I ripped my gaze away from her ass to focus on her face.

Her lips flattened in obstinate challenge before she strutted toward the pool table. And yeah, I used the word strutted because there was no other way to describe how she walked in those stilettos now that her attitude was flaring.

Heads turned to follow her progress, and two guys jumped off their stools to follow her.

Oh, hell no. Not a chance, assholes.

I pushed off my seat and stalked toward her. Ari’s back was to me when I stopped behind her at the cue rack. She spun around, unaware of my presence, and smacked into my chest, a pool stick trapped between us. She sucked in a breath, jerking her head up.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were so close.”

Years ago, she never would have lost track of where I was if we were in the same room. The realization was a blow to my ego, although not unexpected. I no longer made the cut on her priority list, and that stung.

Rather than move and give her space, I reached around her to snag a cue off the rack, letting my arm brush her shoulder.

Ah . . . there it is. Her facial expression remained static, but her involuntary shiver gave her away. Maybe I’m not off the list completely.

I didn’t know why it mattered, but after the last few brutal days, I needed something good to distract me from the shit show that was my life. And there was no doubt in my mind that Ariel Sampson was everything good.

Her spine straightened and she bobbed around me, avoiding contact in favor of racking the balls and lining them up.

“Do you want to break?” she asked.

“Ladies first.”

Ari rolled her eyes and reached for the chalk. With her stick prepped, she leaned over the edge of the table, her ass jutting out and the hem of her dress riding up her thigh.

Lord . . . I groaned silently. This was torture.

Haven’t I been through enough? I tossed the question skyward and received no sign the big man had heard me.

I tore my gaze off her ass and scanned the bar. Mistake. My fist tightened around the pool cue as a reflex, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t use it to smack every jerk in this bar back into line if they didn’t quit staring. Double standard? Sure. But I didn’t care.

With a step behind her, I blocked the most direct view and turned to glare at all of them. Thankfully, Heath’s interest was hooked on the waitress working our table. One by one, the gazes dropped away, and I turned back to Ari, marginally satisfied that they picked up what I was throwing down. Off-limits, assholes.

Ari cursed and stood up straight, leaning lightly on her pool cue. “Dammit. I had that shot.”

I scanned the green felt and found half her balls were missing. “Jesus, what were you doing? Trying to clear the table?”

Her nose went up in the air. “Trying? If I wanted to clear the table, it would be clear. It’s just angles.”

“Brainiac as always.”

Ari shrugged, but I caught a hint of a smile. “Didn’t you hear? It’s cool to be a geek now.”

I had no doubt that wherever she lived in California, she was exactly what was cool. Shit, she had every man’s attention in this bar.

“You were always cool in my book, Red. My turn.” Even though I wanted to wait for her smile, I chalked my cue and sank two shots before missing the third.

“Not bad.” Her nonchalant tone made me grin.

“I try.”

Her eyes finally locked on mine. “I succeed.”

Hell. Why was that statement so damned sexy coming from her lips?

She pushed off her pool cue and spun around to face the table again, her dress sliding up another inch as she bent over the table.

My dick pulsed against my jeans.

Heath is going to kill me.

 

 

 

 

 

meghanmarchpic

Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

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The Boys of Summer - Copy

Blog Tour: Your Fierce Love by Layla Hagen! Read an excerpt!

About YOUR FIERCE LOVE

The strong and sexy Blake Bennett is downright irresistible. And Clara Abernathy is doing everything she can to resist his charm.

After spending her life in group homes, Clara yearns for the love and warmth of a true family. With the Bennetts treating her like their own, she can’t possibly fall for Blake. That would be crossing a line…

But when Clara needs a temporary place to live, and she accepts Blake’s offer to move next door to him, things escalate. Suddenly, she’s not only supposed to resist the man who’s hell-bent on having her, but the TV station she works for is determined to dig up some dirt on the Bennett family.

Blake knows family friends are off-limits, and Clara is more off-limits than anyone. But Clara’s sweetness and sass fill a hole in him he wasn’t even aware of. Soon, he finds himself gravitating toward her, willing to do anything to make her happy.

Blake enjoys bending the rules—much more than following them, but will bending this one be taking it too far?

YOUR FIERCE LOVE is the seventh book in Layla Hagen’s Bennett Family series, but all books stand alone.

Get your hands on YOUR FIERCE LOVE now!

Amazon | iBooks | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

 Excerpt

She almost shrinks into herself, and I instantly see red at the thought that others made her feel small or wish she’d be invisible. My first instinct is to ask who made her feel that way and make them pay, but I don’t see how that would make this any better. So I follow my second instinct—reassuring her I won’t ever make her feel small.
I close the distance to her, placing my hands on her shoulders, pressing one thumb at the base of her neck. Her pulse is erratic.
“I want you here, Clara. I wouldn’t have offered this place otherwise.”
“Okay.”
I value my privacy, which is why I didn’t rent out this apartment, not even to friends.
For the longest time, I had zero hesitation about letting people in my life. I’m a very sociable person; I like being surrounded by a crowd. The more, the merrier. Making friends has always come easy for me. It took me a long while to realize some people just hung around because I provided them with luxuries—free vacations, free everything. I was young when my family came into money, which had positives and negatives. I had everything I needed and wanted, but I also didn’t learn the value of caution or mistrust. It took many mishaps for me to realize some people only stuck around for what I gave them, and when that wasn’t enough, they showed their ugly side.
So now I’m more cautious, but Clara is one of the few people I feel comfortable around. I can be myself with her, just like with my family. She’s fun, smart, and no one who openly admits what she wants most is a family can have a mean or traitorous bone in their body.
There’s that small detail of me being unable to stop touching her, especially since she’s so responsive. The pad of my thumb is still at the base of her neck. Her pulse is, if possible, even more frantic.
“Any general house rules?” she asks, her voice uneven.
“None that I can think of. Except… I usually go to sleep very late and then wake up late in the mornings.”
“Makes sense, since the bar and the restaurants open and close late.”
“Yeah. I’m a light sleeper in the morning, so if you sing in the shower—”
“I don’t.”
An image of Clara in the shower pops in my mind. Christ, what I wouldn’t give to see that, to join her. Not going there. Not going there.
Lowering my hand, I skim it down her arm. Her skin turns to goose bumps under my touch, and she sucks in a breath. Her reaction to me is intoxicating, makes it hard to keep my thoughts in line, even harder not to touch her more, see what other reactions I can provoke.
Jesus, this is escalating far too easily. We’ve spent time with each other before, so why is this spinning out of control so fast?

 

Want to win?

Layla Hagen has a $100 gift card giveaway running on her facebook page to celebrate the release – head on over to check it out!

Want to catch up on the Bennett Family series? Grab them now!

Your Irresistible Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 1):

Your Captivating Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 2):

Your Forever Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 3):

Your Inescapable Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 4):

Your Tempting Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 5):

Your Alluring Love (The Bennett Family Series, Book 6):

About Layla Hagen

Layla Hagen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She fell in love with books when she was nine years old, and her love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.

She writes steamy and romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.

She is represented by fabulous Louise Fury (The Bent Agency)

Website | Twitter | Facebook

The Boys of Summer - Copy

Blog Tour: Read an excerpt from An Earl for the Archeress by E. Elizabeth Watson!

An Earl for the Archeress

by E. Elizabeth Watson
The Ladies of Scotland #1
Publication Date: July 24, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Select, Historical, Romance

BUY:

SYNOPSIS:

Desperate for coin, Lady Mariel Crawford enters an archery contest as a boy but despite her unmatched skill she loses in a tie to the intriguing, frustrating, and very handsome Earl of Huntington. Robert of Huntington seems like any other young philanderer and Mariel, fleeing a cruel father, trusts no man. Yet Robert proves to have a softer side that threatens her resolve to remain alone and unattached.

When Robert bests a young woman at a tourney, his curiosity deepens when he realizes she is the daughter of the ruthless Beast of Ayr. And when he learns that Mariel’s father conspires with the Sheriff of Nottingham Robert is compelled to protect her. Even if it means lying. Even if it means the only way he can save her is by marrying her. He’s willing to lose everything to guard the Scottish wildling who has pierced his heart.

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Excerpt

Watching Robert gallivant through the trees to pester the Sheriff of Nottingham, while humorous, now made perfect sense. After today, she knew he was right. There was no other recourse for the poor souls wronged by Nottingham. They needed someone who would defend them and provide for them when they had been wronged. Nottingham was an unfair man, exactly like her father. And with King Richard fighting in the Crusade, Nottingham had no one overseeing him. What were the people to do in the face of Nottingham’s unchecked injustice?
But she also thought of Robert’s kiss, of his inclusion of her with his men, of his compliment that, in spite of her being of the fairer sex, she had done well and deserved a place on his council. It warmed her heart to know he recognized her ability and wasn’t threatened by it. And though he teased mercilessly and she sometimes wished to slap the smile off his face, she felt affection for him soften her. He was confusing, but trustworthy. He hadn’t lied to her. He had protected her. He respected her. She felt herself capitulating. Mayhap, just mayhap, she really could trust him.

ABOUT E. ELIZABETH WATSON

E. Elizabeth Watson writes historical romance and lives on a mountain in West Virginia with her sons, husband, and various pets. With degrees in Archaeology and Anthropology, Elizabeth instead began pursuing a career in fiction writing after earning an Honorable Mention in the 2013 Texas Observer short story completion, and making it to the quarter-finals in the 2014 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. Prince of Lions, was published in January of 2016, and Son of Ballymead, the sequel, followed in February 2017. One Scottish Knight, her first novella, was released at the end of April, 2017. Her first two traditionally published novels, An Earl for the Archeress, and Maiden’s Defender, will be published by Entangled July 2017 and November 2017.

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ENTER THE GIVEAWAY


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The Boys of Summer - Copy

New Release: 4.5 Stars for Lost and Found Sisters by Jill Shalvis!

 

 

From New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes her first women’s fiction novel—an unforgettable story of friendship, love, family, and sisterhood—perfect for fans of Colleen Hoover, Susan Mallery, and Kristan Higgins. Don’t miss LOST AND FOUND SISTERS and grab your copy today!

 

 

They say life can change in an instant…

After losing her sister in a devastating car accident, chef Quinn Weller is finally getting her life back on track. She appears to have it all: a loving family, a dream job in one of L.A.’s hottest eateries, and a gorgeous boyfriend dying to slip an engagement ring on her finger. So why does she feel so empty, like she’s looking for a missing piece she can’t find?

The answer comes when a lawyer tracks down Quinn and reveals a bombshell secret and a mysterious inheritance that only she can claim. This shocking revelation washes over Quinn like a tidal wave. Her whole life has been a lie.

On impulse, Quinn gives up her job, home, and boyfriend. She heads up the coast to the small hometown of Wildstone, California, which is just a few hours north, but feels worlds apart from Los Angeles. Though she doesn’t quite fit in right away, she can’t help but be drawn to the town’s simple pleasures…and the handsome, dark-haired stranger who offers friendship with no questions asked.

As Quinn settles into Wildstone, she discovers there’s another surprise in store for her. The inheritance isn’t a house or money, but rather something earth shattering, something that will make her question everything she thought she knew about herself, about her family. Now with a world of possibilities opening up to Quinn, she must decide if this new life is the one she was always meant to have—and the one that could finally give her the fulfillment she’s searched so long for.

 

My Review:

4.5 Stars!

You know what? I’m not really a Women’s Fiction fan, but I am now a huge Jill Shalvis fan! This book was amazing! Filled with emotion and amazing characters, Lost and Found Sisters sucked me in, gave me the perfect emotional ride. I was not expecting the little surprises that you won’t see coming. Shalvis deals with some pretty emotional topics and handles them with the perfect amount of care. I laughed. I cried. I fell in love.

You must grab this amazing read today!

 

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ADD LOST AND FOUND SISTERS TO YOUR GOODREADS

 

 

 

Excerpt:

Coop whined and Mick looked down at the twelve-year-old golden retriever, ball in his mouth. Coop panted happily and dropped the ball at Mick’s feet, his rheumy brown eyes ever hopeful.

Mick shook his head. “Last time I threw it, you decided you didn’t mean it.”

Coop gave a talkative “woo woo woo.”

Translation: Mick was full of shit. “I had to go get it myself,” he reminded the dog. “Remember that?”

This bought him another “woo woo woo.”

“Okay, okay.” Mick picked up the ball, and because there was a lot of old-man dog pride on the line here, he gave it a dramatic throw, making sure it went only about twenty feet.

Coop gave an energetic leap. A single energetic leap. After that, he eyeballed the sea of sand ahead of him, huffed out a sigh, and sat. Then he craned his big, fuzzy golden head and gave Mick a sad-eyed look.

“Are you kidding me?” Mick asked him.

Coop lay down, set his head on his front paws, and stared forlornly out at the ball that his brain wanted to chase but his sore joints and tired body wouldn’t allow. It was a daily reminder for the dog, who in his own mind clearly wasn’t elderly, forgetful, or more than half deaf. Nope, in Coop’s opinion, he was still a rambunctious, energetic puppy.

Mick blew out a sigh and fetched the damn ball. When he came back, the dog sat up, eyes bright, tongue lolling.

“Not a chance,” Mick said on a laugh. “I’m not throwing it again. This was about your exercise, not mine. I already had my run today.”

A Lexus pulled up. A woman sat behind the wheel and stared out at the dunes and the ocean. All Mick could see of her was a cloud of whiskey-colored waves of hair and a pale face. She stared at the water and then set her head to the steering wheel and banged it a few times.

Then, head still down, she went utterly still.

Coop whined about the ball and nudged Mick’s knee, eyes pleading.

With a head shake, Mick threw the ball five feet.

Coop happily pounced on it.

While his dog pranced around proudly, ball in his mouth, Mick turned back to the car. The woman hadn’t moved. Had she knocked herself out? Was she still breathing? “What do you think?” he asked Coop. “Stay out of it, or ask her if she’s okay?”

Coop, who’d never been impressed by a single one of the women in Mick’s social life, yawned.

“Right,” he said. “Stay out of it.”

But the woman suddenly sat up straight and fumbled her way out of the car, falling to her knees on the rough gravelly asphalt, gulping in air like she was suffocating.

Realizing she was hyperventilating, Mick rushed to her and crouched at her side, having to push Coop back from making her acquaintance—which he tended to do with a rude nose push to the crotch. “Stay,” he ordered and looked the woman over.

Young. Late twenties maybe. Definitely having a panic attack of some kind. Not touching her, he spoke quietly and calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose.”

She had to quiet herself to hear him, but she did as he said. She took a deep breath, shuddery as it was.

“Good,” he said, still holding Coop back from trying to say hello. “Stay.”

“What?” she gasped.

“Sorry, not you. My nosy-ass dog. Keep breathing. That’s it,” he said when she worked at it.

When she had it under control, she met his gaze, her own eyes hooded and clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Coop, tired of being held back, shoved his big old head between them and licked her from chin to forehead. Mick palmed the dog’s face and pushed his head away from the woman whose shoulders were now shaking.

Aw, hell. He patted his pockets—for what, he had no idea. It wasn’t like he carried tissues or napkins on him to offer her. He rose to his feet to go search the truck, which was when she lifted her face and he saw that she was shaking with laughter, not tears.

She was laughing at his ridiculous dog.

 

 

About Jill Shalvis:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s sexy contemporary and award-winning books wherever romances are sold and click on the blog button above for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.

 

 

 

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Read an excerpt from Dropout by Carrie Ann Ryan! Coming June 27th!

Carrie Ann Ryan’s DROPOUT, one of the five books in the upcoming BAD BOY HOMECOMING series, releases June 27th, but we couldn’t wait to share an excerpt! Get a sneak peek below and preorder your copy today!

 

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About DROPOUT

A high school reunion is about to get down and dirty and a whole lot more complicated in this new erotic romance from NYT Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan.

Grayson Cleary left town before graduation day and never looked back. Most people back home pegged him as a dropout. Over time, he’s worked to make something of his life and leave his past behind, so when his ten-year reunion comes up, he has no intention of attending. When his best friend begs him to go, Grayson finds himself confronted with a past he’d rather forget and the one woman he’s always craved.

Kate St. Dalton had everything when she left her hometown. Not only was she Valedictorian with a full scholarship, but she was also engaged to the boy of her dreams. Then, life threw a wrench in her plans, and she had to find a way to live the new life fate handed her. The last thing she needs is the hot boy from high school returning to town as the sexy man of her dreams.

When the two take a chance and use the reunion week to burn up the sheets, they’ll have to remember that it’s only for a few nights—not for a lifetime. And decide if what they have is just a fling…or something far more than a mere reunion.

Add DROPOUT to your Goodreads list here!

Find out more about the BAD BOY HOMECOMING series on the website here!

DROPOUT releases June 27th, 2017 – preorder your copy now!

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Read an Excerpt from DROPOUT

As soon as Kate closed the door behind them, Grayson pressed her back to the solid wood. Her eyes widened, and he told himself he had to slow down.

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he whispered, his gaze going from her mouth to her eyes. “I’m an asshole.”

“I haven’t kissed you yet either. Does that make me an asshole, too?” Her fingers skipped up his chest, and he shuddered, needing her touch.

He cupped her face, her skin soft under his palms. “Never.” Then he leaned forward and did the one thing he’d wanted to do since he was sixteen—he kissed her.

She tasted of sweetness and perfection. He couldn’t quite think of another word for it. He didn’t do poetry and fancy words when it came to women, but he could at least make sure Kate knew she was not only important but also special and sexy as hell.

She ran her hands up his chest again before wrapping her arms around him to scrape her nails down his back. When he pulled away from her lips so they could both breathe, she arched up into him, and he rested his forehead on hers.

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

“This,” he said in a low voice, almost a growl. “Just tonight. No promises. But I’m not going to hurt you, Kate. I’m going to make love to you, make you feel amazing, and when the time comes for me to leave? I’m not going to run again. I’ll make sure when it’s time to go, we’re both ready.”

Even as he said the words, he had a feeling it was a lie. There was something going on between them that he couldn’t quite name, but he knew it might not be enough. Hell, it wouldn’t be enough. She might not have the education or the job she’d thought she wanted, but she was still far classier than anything his mechanic self could accomplish. He hadn’t missed the kids’ toys and photos in the living room. Hadn’t missed the signs of a family and the fact that neither he nor Kate were the same people they were when he’d first wanted to kiss her. He figured that was okay, as long as he remembered that the woman in his arms was only his for a short while.

And while he craved her, he knew he’d have to get his fill while he could…and make sure she was the center of his everything.

Just for now.

“Kiss me,” she said suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Just kiss me. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

He cupped her face, his mouth so close to hers he’d just have to move a fraction of an inch to kiss her. “That I can do, Kate.” So he kissed her again, this time harder, deeper.

They moaned into each other’s mouths, their bodies pressing against one another as they kept the kiss going—longer, hotter. His hands slid up her dress, over her thighs, and cupped her butt. When she gasped, arching into him, he picked her up easily and rocked into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and the two of them panted into each other, needing more.

 

Find out more about the other four books in the BAD BOY HOMECOMING series on the website here!

TROUBLE by Avery Flynn
PROM QUEEN by Katee Robert
HONOR by Kennedy Layne
ROCK STAR by Stacey Kennedy

 

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About Carrie Ann Ryan

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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Cover Reveal & Excerpt: Martinis & Moonlight by Andrea Johnston

Today we have the cover reveal for Martinis & Moonlight by Andrea Johnston! Check it out and be sure to preorder your copy today!

Title: Martinis & Moonlight

Author: Andrea Johnston

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: June 28th

About Martinis & Moonlight:

Minnesota “Minnie” Walker has worked hard for the life she has – a close knit family, successful career, and long-term relationship. When a tragedy strikes, Minnie sacrifices everything to be there for her family. Never expecting a move to the small town of Lexington would change the course of her future, Minnie finds herself wondering if what she always thought was perfect is really what’s best for her … and her heart.

 

Owen Butler has lived in the town of Lexington his entire life. After years of feeling second best and wasting his time vying for the attention of his father, Owen has settled into an uncomplicated life. Not one to believe in happily ever after, he never expected the new woman in town to have him questioning everything he thought he wanted in life.

 

Together, under the rays of the moonlight, Owen and Minnie find themselves wondering what the future holds and if facing it together is worth the risk.

 

 

Martinis & Moonlight:

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Whiskey & Honey (A Country Road Novel Book 1)

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Tequila & Tailgates (A Country Road Novel Book 2):

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Exclusive Excerpt:

She stands and walks to a file cabinet against the wall, tugging on the drawer with no luck in opening it. I can see from my seat that the drawer is slightly crooked. It’s going to take two people to get it back on its tracks. I stand and walk over to where she’s unsuccessfully pushing the drawer.

“It’s off the tracks. I’ll pull on this side, you push on that. We’ll get it on the tracks.”

Together, we push and pull making little progress until suddenly, the drawer jerks open. I step aside and allow Minnie to thumb through the files until she finds one she wants and snags it from the drawer. I reach out to close the cabinet as she does the same. Only, I’m not fast enough and my fingers pay the price when the drawer slams closed.

“Mother fuck…” Sonofabitch that hurt. I begin shaking my hand as if the movement will somehow stop the throbbing in my fingers. Tears prick at my eyes, the pain is so intense.

“Oh, my God! Owen! Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Let me see.” I watch as she tosses the file in her hands toward a shelf before she takes my hand in hers. She begins examining my fingers closely and ever so gently, assessing my injury. I throw my head back and breathe in and out through my nose, trying to regulate my breathing and avoid speaking the long list of cuss words on the tip of my tongue. That hurt almost as bad as the time I smacked myself with the hammer.

Minnie takes my fingers between her hands and adds a little pressure while massaging them. “Is that helping? I’m so sorry. I should get some ice.”

“It’s fine,” I say gruffly. I don’t attempt to pull my hand from hers, but instead allow her to keep rubbing my hand, gently blowing on my fingers. “Why are you blowing on it? It’s not hot.”

Minnie mumbles something under her breath but doesn’t stop touching me. Now her movements have slowed a little, though she still hasn’t let me go.

“What was that, Minnesota?”

“I said, ‘you are.’ Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” she sighs, letting go of my hand. Instead of letting her get away with that, I grab her hand. The shock on her face is evident as she looks at me, wide-eyed. I like this look on her. The element of surprise shows a little more of who Minnie is deep down.

“You think I’m hot?” Like I can’t help myself, my tone teases and my brows wiggle.

“Oh, shut up.” She attempts to pull away from me but I don’t let her. “You know you’re hot. All of you.” The hand not held by mine waves around expressively. “It’s really unfair to the women of this town. And flirtatious, the whole bunch of you. I mean, is that something they taught you in high school?” She looks up at me, her eyes bright and a smile on her face. “Is it? Something like How to give smoldering looks across a room 101? Who taught it? Mr. Casanova?”

She does this weird eye twitch, an attempt to dramatically roll her eyes, I assume. It’s a fair attempt, but unsuccessful. Her embarrassment shows and I note that this woman – beautiful, sometimes shy, and sarcastic – is one that must render every grown man she encounters speechless by just being in their presence.

“Nah, we didn’t need a class. I think we were all born with it. Something in the Lexington water.” We both laugh and I look down and realize I’m still holding her hand. I rub my thumb across her knuckles. A move she was just making herself, but mine has a completely different undertone.

 

About Andrea Johnston:

Andrea Johnston spent her childhood with her nose in a book and a pen to paper. An avid people watcher, her mind is full of stories that yearn to be told. A fan of angsty romance with a happy ending, super sexy erotica and a good mystery, Andrea can always be found with her Kindle nearby fully charged.

Andrea lives in Idaho with her family and two dogs. When she isn’t spending time with her partner in crime aka her husband, she can be found binge watching all things Bravo and enjoying a cocktail. Nothing makes her happier than the laughter of her children, a good book, her feet in the water, and cocktail in hand all at the same time.

 

 

Connect with Andrea:

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New Release: Read an excerpt from The Farthest Edge by Kristen Ashley

 

 

✮✮✮A delicious world of erotica, BDSM with alpha-subs and their Dommes, and a gripping love story…Welcome to The Bee’s Honey! The second standalone title in New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley’s Honey Series, THE FARTHEST EDGE is a seductive and rich love story available now! Order your copy today! ✮✮✮

 

Go to THE FARTHEST EDGE and order your copy today!

 

 

About THE FARTHEST EDGE (Erotic Romance):

Step into the Honey Club, where every sensual boundary will be tested in search of the ultimate pleasure…

Branch doesn’t exist. Living off the grid, he’s looking for a way to forget his past and the guilt that plagues him. But no woman has ever been able to bring him to the edge he craves.

After a traumatic experience of her own, Evangeline stepped away from the decadent world of the Honey Club. But when she gets Branch’s offer—to play without boundaries or commitments—it’s too tempting for her to refuse.

As their passion ignites, Evangeline and Branch push each other to their farthest limit, fulfilling their darkest desires while falling harder and deeper than they ever imagined.

 

 

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And don’t miss the first standalone title in the Honey Series, THE DEEP END! Grab your copy today!

 

 

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EXCERPT:

She drove into the Honey, seeing the parking lot empty except for Aryas’s black Cayenne and a black GMC SUV, feeling that hunger grow.

Right.

Fine.

Fun and done.

All good.

She grabbed the handles of her small bag before she opened the door and threw her leg out.

As instructed (by Aryas), she parked close to and approached the back door to the club.

As expected, it was open.

She moved through the halls, keeping centered and focused so as not to have any kind of freakout that the last time she was there, she’d been carried out by Aryas, beaten to hell and not giving a damn.

Because she might have been beaten to hell.

But the worst of it was, her heart had been broken.

She walked directly to Aryas’s playroom, known as the red room since it was decorated in reds, and the opaque shades that could be drawn down over the wall of windows to black out what was inside were the only shades in any of the rooms that weren’t black, they were red.

As she approached, she saw the red shades were drawn down.

She kept her gait steady.

It had been a year and the last scene she’d had was a bad one. She’d been assaulted at the same time she’d had a relationship end very, very badly with a man she’d thought she’d loved and was considering spending the rest of her life with.

That happened.

A year ago.

This was now.

It was just a look-over anyway. It might be she wouldn’t like what she saw. Or he wouldn’t. And then giving any headspace to worrying what came after that was just a waste.

She was a Domme.

She’d trained under Mistress Sixxand Mistress Amélie, the two finest Dommes Evangeline had ever had the honor to see at play.

And before Kevin, even if she’d only been in her late twenties, she was one of the most sought-after Dommes at the Honey.

Now she was just thirty years old and she made good money. She took care of herself. She was successful. Educated. She wasn’t hard to look at. She had her own style in looks, clothes (and play) that she was honing to perfection.

She could do this.

She totally could do this.

She opened the door, stepped in and saw him.

Oh my.

She was so totally going to do this.

She closed the door behind her, dropped her bag and stood right where she was.

Aryas’s red room, known as his because this was mostly where he took his slaves, looked more like an opulent boudoir. Plush. Sumptuous. Heavy, carved furniture. Big, posted bed dressed in red and topped at headboard and ceiling with mirrors. Candelabrums everywhere.

No candles had been lit right then. The scene was not set, only red-shaded table lamps here and there were illuminating the space.

It still gave it a feel.

And that feel was good.

But more, the man before her was amazing.

 

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About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley was born in Gary, Indiana, USA and nearly killed her mother and herself making it into the world, seeing as she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck (already attempting to accessorize and she hadn’t taken her first breath!). Her mother said they took Kristen away, put her Mom back in her room, her mother looked out the window, and Gary was on fire (Dr. King had been assassinated four days before). Kristen’s Mom remembered thinking it was the end of the world. Quite the dramatic beginning.

Nothing’s changed.

Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she’s blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.

 

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Blog Tour: Read an excerpt from Hold Me by J. Kenner

 

My life with Damien has never been fuller. Every day is a miracle, and every night I lose myself in the oasis of his arms.

But there are new challenges, too. Our families. Our careers. And new responsibilities that test us with unrelenting, unexpected trials.

I know we will survive—we have to. Because I cannot live without Damien by my side. But sometimes the darkness seems overwhelming, and I am terrified that the day will come when Damien cannot bring the light. And I will have to find the strength inside myself to find my way back into his arms.

 

 

 

 

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I already know that Damien is running later than I am, because he’d called while I was stuck in traffic. Now I dismiss Bree for the night, then go peek in on both my girls. I want to wake them, to cuddle them close, but I let them sleep, contenting myself with watching the steady rise and fall of their little chests.

Then I take a quick shower, change into yoga pants and a T-shirt, and stretch out on our lovely iron bed, surrounded by paperwork.

That’s where I am when Damien finds me—although I’m asleep instead of busily working.

“Hey,” he says, brushing a kiss on my shoulder. “Long day?”

As I claw my way back to consciousness, he gathers my papers and sets them on the bedside table. There’s a glass of wine, too, and he hands it to me. I try to avoid alcohol since I’m breastfeeding, but I also did the research and know that a little bit isn’t a problem so long as I wait to pump or feed Anne.

“The longest,” I say, then take a grateful sip. I lean sideways against him, my back supported by the pile of pillows that rest against the wall. I give him the full rundown, the highlight of which is Eric’s surprising departure.

“You can handle continued growth,” he says, his loyalty giving me a nice warm boost of confidence. “But you’re also well-positioned to simply hold the line if that’s what you want to do. Even to downsize if it works out that way.”

I push away from him, frowning as my chest tightens uncomfortably. “What?”

“I’m just saying that you don’t have to go back to work full-throttle.”

I sit up straight. “Excuse me? Why? Because you can support us?”

“I can support us. But what I’m—”

“So I’m supposed to feel guilty about wanting to work just because you bring in billions?” Dammit, he knows how important my job is to me. How hard I’ve worked to build my business on my own, not relying on money that comes from Stark International.

He stares at me like someone might stare at a wild hyena. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

 

 

 

 

 

Julie - J Kenner Author PhotoJ.Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.

Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.

JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A five time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy). Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development with AwesomenessTV/Awestruck.

Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.

In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.

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