New Contemporary Romance ~ Chasing a Legend by Sarah Robinson

Today we have the release day blitz of Chasing a Legend by Sarah Robinson! Check out the release day festivities and grab your copy today!!

Title: Chasing a Legend

Author: Sarah Robinson

Genre: August 22nd

About Chasing a Legend:

The most soulful Kavanagh brother tackles the challenge of a lifetime—with a little help from the girl of his dreams.

“Fans of Lori Foster’s SBC Fighters series will love the MMA atmosphere of [Sarah] Robinson’s Legends.”—Library Journal

A topnotch manager and agent, Quinn Kavanagh pictures a life outside of his family’s renowned MMA gym. Beneath his sleek exterior, Quinn has a secret passion for sculpting. But after a nearly fatal motorcycle accident, he’s struggling just to walk again, let alone get back to the studio—and it doesn’t help that the doctor in charge of his physical therapy is his childhood crush. Quinn’s always ready for a fight, but the bittersweet sting of unrequited love has him begging for mercy.

Dr. Kiera Finley is determined to make her medical residency a success. Six years ago, she gave in and shared a single passionate night with Quinn. Now she’s just hoping the cocky lover from her past doesn’t derail her plans for the future. Little by little, though, Kiera gets to know another side of Quinn. She knew he was a family man, devoted to his parents and brothers, but he’s also a free spirit trapped in a cage—and only she has the key. To heal both Quinn’s body and soul, Kiera’s tempted to give him a special kind of medicine.

Get Your Copy Today!

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Read the Free Short Story Set Between Becoming a Legend and Chasing a Legend!

 

Catch up on the Series Today:

BREAKING A LEGEND:

Amazon | Audio | Other Retailers

SAVING A LEGEND:

Amazon | Audio | Other Retailers

BECOMING A LEGEND:

Amazon | Audio | Other Retailers

 

Advance Praise:

“Robinson concludes her Kavanagh Legends contemporary quartet (after Becoming a Legend) with a perfect blend of smoldering heat and gentle tenderness. After an accident, mixed martial arts fighter Quinn Kavanagh is placed under the care of physical therapist Keira Finley, his first and only love. She has no idea that she broke his heart when she left for college six years earlier. They’d been best friends since they were kids and never experienced life without each other’s unwavering support, but when Quinn didn’t ask her to stay, Keira needed to prove to herself that she could make it on her own. Quinn’s emotional scars run a lot deeper than the physical ones. He’s afraid to open himself up to Keira again, but with the encouragement of his boisterous, fun-loving family, he learns to give to himself as freely as he’s always given to others. This endearing story showcases Keira and Quinn’s easy banter, familiar warmth, and unquenchable heat. Quinn is the last Kavanagh brother to meet his mate, but subtle mentions of potential future love matches among their friends will leave readers eager for spin-offs.” – Publisher’s Weekly

Exclusive Excerpt:

“I’m leaving Legends now. My bags are packed, so be ready to go as soon as I get there,” Quinn said into the phone, his thick arm flexing as he twisted it to look at his watch.
“UK, here we come!” his older brother Kane shouted through the line. Quinn could practically see him fist-pumping the air. “You’re the best manager ever, Q!”
“Better believe it, Killer.” Quinn laughed before disconnecting the call and pushing his phone into a small interior pocket of the leather jacket that fit snugly over his chiseled back and broad shoulders.
Straddling his prized possession, a classic Ducati he’d kept in pristine condition for years, Quinn pulled on his helmet and gloves. His shaggy black hair peeked out from under the edges of the helmet, framing his face. Though covered in leather, glimpses of his love of ink showed on his neck and hands. What could not be seen was how the tattoos continued onto his chest and back as well. He loved the images, and each one had a special meaning to him—a falcon across his chest in midflight to symbolize his yearning for freedom, a dragon wrapping his arm to mark the fire in his blood, the Kavanagh family crest and motto in Gaelic on his back to represent family pride, along with phrases and names of people and moments that had made him who he was.
But the small metal bar through his eyebrow, or the piercings in his ear? Those were just for fun.
The motorcycle roared to life beneath him, easily heard from blocks away, as he pulled out onto the main street and headed for his parents’ house to meet his brother. He might not live there any longer, but he’d grown up in that house, and it would always feel like home. The whole neighborhood was his home; he knew everyone there, and everyone knew the Kavanaghs—for better or worse.
Quinn rode past the quaint houses in the Woodlawn area of the Bronx, going through a mental checklist of everything he needed to do before Kane competed next week. The International MMA Championship, held in London this year, was the biggest mixed martial arts competition in the world. Kane had won that championship the last two years, giving him the title of World’s Greatest MMA Fighter. Kane planned to win a third time next week and Quinn was eager to stand by his side when he did.
It’d been three short years since his brother had been thrust into the public spotlight after winning his first U.S. National Championship in Vegas. Quinn beamed proudly at the memory. Even though he wasn’t the one in the cage, he still felt a part of his brother’s success, having managed his entire career from the beginning. Kane’s win was Quinn’s win. It was a win for all the Kavanaghs—something they each really needed after everything the family had been through.
As he approached his parents’ street, he signaled with both his right hand and turn signal that he was switching lanes. A large truck whistled past, completely ignoring his signal. Quinn yanked the bike to the left, narrowly escaping a collision as his heart leapt into his throat.
Asshole.
Taking a deep breath to calm the adrenaline shooting through his body at the close call, Quinn carefully looked around, and once he’d confirmed that the right lane was clear, he again signaled his intentions. Sliding the bike into the right lane, he accelerated, eager to get to his childhood home.
That was his last thought before it happened.
His family.
How happy he was.
How much he loved his life.
A silver sedan parallel-parked against the curb nosed out into the right lane, directly in front of Quinn’s bike. His eyes widened as the air left his lungs, and he attempted to swerve around the sudden obstacle.
But there was no time. There was no space.
The front wheel of his bike slammed into the front wheel well of the sedan, and Quinn was weightless. He barely had a moment to blink before he was twisting through the air—over the handlebars, over his bike, over the sedan.
He heard the impact before he felt it.
His body skidding over the unforgiving pavement as wind rushed past him—a crunching, tumbling screech. Car horns firing, people screaming—or was he screaming? The echoes inside his helmet both muted and deafened.
But then he felt it, and it was fucking hell.
The crack of bones, a searing pain shooting through him. Every nerve ending in his body set on fire at the force of impact, consuming him till he was certain he couldn’t stand another second of it. Sliding across the pavement, his skin burned against the grating asphalt, his leather gear no match for the unforgiving surface.
And then it was quiet.
So fucking quiet as he stared up at the sun and waited . . . for what, he didn’t know.
He wasn’t connected to his body, but somehow trapped inside it. Quinn tried to call for help, tried to get up, but his lungs and limbs ignored his commands.
Just as his eyes began to flutter closed, the pain overtaking him, pushing him beyond what he could ever handle . . . he saw her. Her strawberry-blond hair falling down past her soft pink cheeks, the sun creating a halo behind her. Her fingertips grazed his face, and she whispered to him so softly he barely made out what she said. Light blue eyes, nearly translucent in their brightness, told him to just hold on . . . don’t let go . . . don’t give up.
And then she was gone.
And so was he.

 

 

 

About the Author:

Aside from being a Top 10 Barnes & Noble and Amazon Bestseller, Sarah Robinson is a native of the Washington, DC area and has both her Bachelors and Masters Degrees in forensic and clinical psychology. She is newly married to a wonderful man who is just as much of an animal rescue enthusiasts as she is. Together, they own a zoo of rescues including everything from mammals to reptiles to marsupials, as well as volunteering and fostering for multiple animal shelters. Subscribe to her newsletter at www.subscribepage.com/sarahrobinsonnewsletter Visit the author’s website for more information about Sarah and her books: http://booksbysarahrobinson.net/

 

Connect with Sarah:

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Sale Alert! Just One Regret by Stacey Lynn is on sale for $0.99!

 

 

 

Title: Just One Regret
Series: Just One Song #3
Author: Stacey Lynn
Genre: MMA Romance 
 Release Date: September 20, 2015

 

Blurb

Growing up, Grayson Legend and Kennedy Knowles were inseparable. They turned to each other when their families were nothing more than worthless guardians, and had promised each other to always stay friends.Then Kennedy did the unthinkable.

She fell in love with her best friend.

And after finally finding the courage to let him know—

Grayson took off.After walking away from his best friend because he didn’t feel like he would ever be good enough to give Kennedy what she wanted or needed, Grayson Legend has become a household name in the MMA fighting world.

When he runs into Kennedy at a fight in Vegas, he immediately determines to do one thing—never let her go again.

She has a secret.

They both have regrets.

And when the truth comes to light—

Everything between them could be ruined.

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK

B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS

 

Author Bio

Stacey Lynn is a simple girl, raised most of her life in the MidWest. Perhaps it was the long, frigid winters that left her so bored she had nothing to do but spend time reading every book she could get her hands on from John Grisham and Danielle Steel to Ann M. Martin and CS Lewis. As an avid reader, she began penning poems and short stories long before she reached high school and her love of the written word has never diminished.

Now, as a wife and mother to four children, she finds solace from the craziness of her life by creating steamy, sexy stories that generally tug at your emotions. What began as a hobby and a way to survive a Minnesota winter three years ago and the dream of publishing her first book, has now turned into an unending passion.

 

Author Links

Release Blitz & Giveaway: Submission Specialist by Ada Scott

Submission Specialist
Ada Scott
(Still a Bad Boy #2)
Publication date: February 26th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Instead of Prince Charming, I got Him.

Skylar

I promised I’d save myself for my wedding night.

Of course, I didn’t know it was going to be a fake marriage to a heavyweight MMA fighter. I couldn’t have known how good it would feel to be pinned under all those muscles and tattoos, squirming, panting, and even whimpering in ecstasy.

None of us knew how deeply he was involved with the mafia.

When he disrespects them, they think they can use me to punish him.

They’re wrong.

He’s a tank in human form.

And he’s coming for me.

Austin

Men tap out inside the ring, women surrender themselves outside of it. That’s always been my specialty.

I chose Skylar because she was so innocent. A good girl like her would help sell my reformed image to the public. To corrupt her and leave her ruined for all other men would be my hottest conquest yet.

But I found more in Skylar than that. Who’d have thought that the first woman I wanted to lay more than once would be my wife?

Now they think they can take away what is mine?

Even if I have to kill every last member of the Bertolini Crime Family…

I’m coming for her.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

I felt like I was sitting inside my own head watching a movie play out as I dropped the remains of my apple in the trash and headed towards the Tier-1 fighters’ area. Uncle Malcolm wasn’t here to show me what to do. All I had was less than a year of study and a general appreciation of massages to rely on. It would have to do.

The Tier-1 wing had a guard at the door who looked mean enough to actually fight for NHBFC, but he let me through when he saw my uniform and heard that Gordon had sent me at Henry’s request. The hallway behind said door was just as chaotic as the ones I’d just left, but for a completely different reason.

With a smaller group of fighters to look after, and an already smaller staff diminished by illness, it was the MMA groupies making the most noise over here. Clusters of some of the most stunning girls currently in the city hovered around their favorite fighters’ doors, giggling and talking loudly. It wasn’t official of course, but the guard knew only to let in the best of the best.

The intensity of their beauty only served to make me feel self-conscious, as I awkwardly nudged my way through them to Austin’s door. Most of them were taller than me and the tops they wore made absolutely sure to show off their breasts, at my eye-level, to maximum effect.

They made me feel like a potato in a diamond display case as I sheepishly knocked on the door. A few moments later an older guy, Austin’s coach, snatched the door open.

“I told you bitches he isn’t ready yet!”

“Uh, Gordon sent me? Henry said you-”

“Oh, right, yeah. He’s just in the shower-”

The groupies in earshot all squealed and started talking at once.

“You come in, he’ll be ready in a second, I’m stepping out. Lock it behind you. Which of you girls wants to do me a special favor so I put a good word in for you with The Killer?”

I squeezed past him as a chorus of “I do!” “I will” rang out behind me. One of them said “How come the cleaning lady gets to go in?” Another said, “I’ll deepthroat your-” just as the door clicked shut.

Stepping into a Tier-1 dressing room after working on the other side for so long was like stepping into first-class on an airplane after only ever flying coach. They had all the same stuff that we had, but instead of bare concrete, there was actual paint on the walls, a permanent massage table, a brand new heavy punching bag hung from the ceiling on a chain. Plenty of bells and whistles.

Steam poured out of a cracked-open door and I could hear a shower running. I walked over and paused by the door, before knocking even more tentatively than I had on the other one.

“Austin? I’m here for the-”

“I told Ross to tell you I wasn’t ready!” he yelled out.

“Uh… no I’m not… uh… I work here? Henry said you needed a massage?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right out.”

The sound of running water stopped and I caught a flash of movement in the steamed-up mirror through the opening. Quickly, I turned and faced the other way, ashamed at the flush of excitement that came unbidden and made me bite my bottom lip without thinking about it.

After a couple minutes I felt the waft of air as the door was pulled open behind me, and turned to face him. Standing there, wearing only a towel, with beads of water dripping down his neck and torso from his hair, was fan (and my) favorite, Austin “The Killer” Aquila.

That perfectly sculpted body looked like it was made from granite by an artist with an eye for sin, then decorated with ink in designs that curled all over. His thick arms had contours that drew my eyes up to his broad shoulders, and then sent them down across his pecs and over each and every bump of his abs.

His lower abdominals formed lines that narrowed as my eyes roamed lower… lower… lower until the visual ride was abruptly cut off by the towel, which he held up by one hand.

I looked up and heard my jaw click shut when our eyes met. I only hoped I’d closed my mouth before I drooled. If I was looking at him like a piece of art, he was looking at me like a piece of food, and it took all my willpower not to find a plate to climb on to.

All heavyweights have a certain presence. It would be hard not to when you’re a tank that has briefly assumed human form, but Austin had presence that almost seemed to make the air crackle between us and around him. His eyes, they were looking at me in a way that would give my dad a stroke. That brought me partway back to reality.

“Um… over there?” I pointed at the massage table.

“You sure you work here?” he asked.

“Yeah, I… I normally work in Tier-2…”

Austin closed the distance between us and leaned down towards me. My heart tried to jump up my throat to get a better view out my mouth at all that solid muscle so close to me, and my ability to breathe be damned.

“Because, if you’re another girl that stole a uniform just to get in here… well, I’ll have to do to you what I did to her.”

A drop of water fell from his head and landed on my ear, making me flinch. The scent of soap and the faint musk of him filled my lungs as I took a deep breath to offer whatever reassurance I could.

“I promise I work here,” I squeaked.

athlete like me

 

Author Bio:

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A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I’ll be there taking notes and making it even sexier 🙂

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