Saturday, March 5, 2016

COVER REVEAL - Dark and Twisted Games by Heidi Acosta

Dark and Twisted Games
(Hearts of Faeylon #1)

Heidi Acosta

Published by: CHBB
Publication date: April 1st 2016
Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal, Young Adult



Nothing ever happens in the small town of Copake Falls, and no one knows that better than sixteen-year-old Eden Day. Her life is a mundane carousal, rotating between caring for her alien obsessed aunt and dealing with her freak status at school. Until two brothers move into town and turn her life completely upside down.

Golden boy, Cardelian Foster is the talk of the town, and it seems his sights set on Eden. However, she finds herself drawn to the dark and elusive Jaxson instead. Caught between her fear of what he might be and her attraction to him, Eden makes it her mission to find out exactly who or what Jaxson Foster is.

Eden begins to dig for the truth, but the deeper she looks, the more her life seems to be in danger. Everyone around her thinks she’s going crazy, and Eden begins to agree until she finds herself pulled into Faeylon—a world that nightmares are made of. Caught in the center of a dark game, Eden realizes there can only be one winner, and she is the prize.

Dark&Twisted Games paperpack book cover


Heidi Acosta was born on Long Island, New York. Moving around a lot when she was younger, she has lived in New York, Arizona, New York (again), Washington, Georgia, and Florida, in that order. Each place offered her something special, but she will always consider New York her home.

Heidi started writing as soon as she could spell. When she was three, Heidi's mother gave her a copy of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House in the Big Woods; thus beginning her lifelong love affair with literature.

Writing soon also became a form of therapy for Heidi, when she realized that no matter what was happening in her life, she could find emotional escape while writing. Some of her earliest stories featured her as a princess who explored new worlds with her horse Buttercup. If it sounds romantic, it wasn't, there was no prince charming in those fairy lands (boys where yucky).

Heidi now resides in Florida with her husband, very active daughter, one hyper Chihuahua, two sweet cats, and one very fat moody cat.

Barbie Girl is the first Novel of Heidi's new, four-book, Baby Doll Series: Barbie Girl, Barbie World, Doll Face, and Southern Sugar.

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY - Burning Choice by Aubrey Parker


Burning Choice
(Trevor’s Harem, #3)
 
Aubrey Parker

Publication date: March 1st 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance

PURCHASE NOW: Amazon


I’ve been in this billionaire’s game for a month — but something changed when half my competition was eliminated.

It feels less like a contest now … and more like an experiment.

I shouldn’t have made it past the first round. I don’t know how I did; I’m not special like the others. When I ask Daniel, he just tells me it’s complicated. Then he talks about brain chemistry, how love and sex are an addiction. He tells me how wild animals claim mates, and how he’s claimed me.

The stakes are higher.

The competition is fiercer.

I should have been kicked out long ago, but Daniel tells me I might be the needle in the haystack the company has been looking for.

Sometimes I’m afraid of them all, even of Daniel.

But It’s like I’m on a tether. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.

EXCERPT

“I want to show you something.” Jessica flops sideways, grabs one of my pillows, and then pulls me down by my wrist so I’m lying beside her. She puts the pillow on the bed and rolls so she’s perched on it. Her head ticks, nodding halfway, as if to beckon me closer. I come, and she doesn’t stop gesturing until I’m close enough to smell the almond in her shampoo.

Her mischievous eyes watch me. Then she reaches for the covers, which I’ve piled to one side after rising. I’ve never been a bed maker. Because fuck that.

She drags the covers over us. We’re facedown on the bed, our faces above the pillow. Jessica shoves her face into the pillow and moans.

Or, now that I listen more closely, mumbling.

“Put your face in the pillow.”

“I’ve heard that line before,” I say.

“Just do it, Bridget.”

So I do. And then Bridget mumbles again. This time I clearly hear her say, “They can’t hear sound that doesn’t hit the walls.”

I don’t know what to make of that. I raise back up, so she pulls me back down, her arm draped across my back.

“Do you remember how they said there were blind spots from the cameras? The southwest corner of the kitchen, the front lawn, thirty yards equidistant between the fountains.”

“Between the fountains,” I repeat, nodding into the pillow, feeling stupid.

“Thirty yards equidistant. Not just directly between them. There’s only forty-five yards between the fountains. You have to come away at an angle, to the south. It has to be to the south because the wall is at the same angle to the north.”

“I just remember ‘between the fountains.’” And I’m lucky I remember that. That first night, they listed so many rules and details, I stopped listening. But Jessica apparently didn’t. She lists another eight or ten places, most of which barely sound familiar.

“Were you taking notes?”

Instead of answering, she says, “The mics also have dead spots — too much ground to eavesdrop everywhere. I was out back and spotted one near the peeing fountain thing. You know the peeing fountain?”

I nod.

“Then I found two more. They’re hard to find without looking like you’re looking, if you know what I mean.”

I don’t. Not really.

“I got the model number. They seem to all be the same. And that model is semi-directional, probably because if they’re not selective, they’ll hear all the birds whistling and pots banging and clocks ticking and stuff. The noise profile is … ” And for a second it’s like I’m back in my studio, studying technical manuals.

“Are you a sound engineer or something?”

“I read a catalog once.”

“What kind of catalog?”

“I was bored,” she answers.

Jessica’s eyes flick toward the ceiling, and she runs her fingers through my hair. “Sorry,” she says about the touch. “But if we don’t do something to justify lying here in bed, they’re going to pay closer attention than we want.” And then her hand goes under the covers, starts disturbing the sheets without actually fondling me — though surely, that’s what it’s supposed to look like from the cameras’ point of view.

My eyes scan what of the room I can still see, ass up and face in the pillow as I am. I know the cameras are there, and microphones with them. And I have to admit Jessica is probably right. They’d have to use mics with a reasonably narrow profile, or there’d be too much noise to make the recordings worthwhile. Talking into a noise dampener like a big lump of foam and fabric will absorb most of what we say, keeping any little echoes from bouncing around and being heard. It’s a risk I wouldn’t take without research into what’s watching and listening to us, but Jess is acting like research isn’t necessary. She saw a model number and somehow already knew everything about that specific model … and, apparently, everything else in the catalog. It’s fucking weird. But what the hell? It’s not like I wanted to be here in the first place, so screwing up and getting booted now doesn’t bug me as much as it bothers the others. I guess it’s no more risk to trust her than anything else.

“So,” Jessica says, speaking into the pillow. “Let’s talk about Daniel for you, Trevor for me, and how the hell you’re still around.”


Aubrey Parker
I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there.

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Friday, March 4, 2016

COVER REVEAL - Dirty Little Rendezvous by Emma Hart

You met her family in The Burke Brothers Series now it is Leila Burke's turn. In a brand new standalone from Emma Hart comes a wild and free American and hot Brit!

Emma Hart brings you Dirty Little Rendezvous releasing on May 10, 2016.

    DIRTY LITTLE RENDEZVOUS FINAL COVER take 2  


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Sometimes the past becomes the present... And he's hot, cocky, and British.
Leila Burke expected a lot of things when she joined her brothers on tour in Europe. He wasn't one of them.
Jase Masters had no idea what to expect when he agreed to support Dirty B. on tour. She definitely wasn't it.
It's been eighteen months.
He remembers that night a little too well.
She insists she has no idea who he is.
He's rugged and determined.
She's wild and free.
Together, they're a tornado.
Keeping it from touching down is the least of their worries.

     

     
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By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies - usually wine - and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.



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COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY - Life in the Lucky Zone by Patricia B. Tighe


Life in the Lucky Zone 
(The Zone, #2) 

Patricia B. Tighe
Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: April 5th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult


Seventeen-year-old Lindsey Taylor has been living a charmed life—always the lead in school plays, possessor of a healthy entourage and a hot boyfriend. But halfway through her junior year, the unthinkable happens. Her boyfriend dumps her. She screws up her audition for the spring play. And to top it all off, her theater teacher wants her to run lines with Trey Berger, a gamer guy who irritates her practically every time he opens his mouth. Lindsey needs to find some better luck and quick.

Trey Berger can barely tolerate Lindsey Taylor. It’s bad enough that their best friends are dating and he has to see Lindsey at group hangouts. Now they have to rehearse together. Berger would rather do just about anything else, even chill with his grandmother, whose dementia has forced her to move in with his family.

But as the semester continues, Berger discovers there’s more to Lindsey than the drama queen persona she puts on for everyone else’s benefit. And the person behind the mask might be someone he cares about. A lot. So what exactly is he going to do about it?

And while Lindsey desperately tries to change her luck and heal from the breakup, she slowly realizes Berger has become her best friend. This video-game-playing boy makes her laugh. And holds her when she cries. Could he possibly become something more?

Sequel to:
23298700


The mother of two grown sons, Patricia B. Tighe lives in West Texas with her husband and two dogs. Her love of the written word caused her to get a journalism degree from Texas A&M University in 1980 and an MA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University in 2008. When not writing or reading, she can be found walking the dogs or yelling at the TV during an NFL game. She's also a fan of British TV shows. Downton Abbey, anyone?
www.patriciabtighe.com



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COVER REVEAL, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY - House Hunt by Jackie Keswick


HOUSE HUNT 

Publication Date: March 30, 2016 
Genre: Adult, MM Romance, Romantic Suspense
House Hunt Cover


Preorder: Dreamspinner Ebook | Dreamspinner PRINT


Jack Horwood hates owing favors. But when a simple day out to treat Gareth to the best oysters in England leads to a discovery of drugs and counterfeit money—things that neither Jack nor Gareth have the jurisdiction to handle—he has to call in help. Help that doesn’t come cheap, and that forces him to do something he promised himself he’d never do again—walk away from Gareth and the family he’s starting to make for himself.

Three months undercover is a long time. After missing Gareth’s birthday, Jack is determined not to miss their first anniversary. But coming home and being home are two very different things. So when he is asked to assist with a corporate espionage investigation, Jack can’t say no, despite knowing it will impact his already straining relationship. Except, of course, he’s walking into a trap….

EXCERPT

“That was one spectacular brunch,” Gareth sighed, mellow and content, as they wandered slowly along the beach. He hadn’t just eaten oysters until he was ready to pop and washed them down with a bottle of creamy, lemon-scented fizz. They’d also been ordered to stop by the shack on their way home to collect a cooler full of freshly caught, baked, and smoked goodies to take with them. And Jack, who took orders as well as a mule, hadn’t said a word against the edict. Now the surf was a soft rattle of pebbles and hiss of foam sinking through sand, the sun caressed his skin, and the salty breeze was surprisingly pleasant. It wasn’t summer warm, but nowhere near chilly either. “And this… this is perfect.”

The day got better than perfect when Jack shed his green fleece, showing off the steel-gray sleeveless top he wore underneath. Gareth feasted his eyes on the long, elegant line of Jack’s back and slid his gaze across wide shoulders down to strong, muscled arms and capable, long-fingered hands.

For someone who always complained about Gareth’s teasing, Jack wasn’t doing a half-bad job of it himself. He looked edible standing on the pebble beach, framed by the endlessly shifting gray-green wash of the sea and with the soft blue and white of an April sky above. Gareth could have sworn that the air around him grew just a tad warmer as Jack stretched his arms up over his head and arched his back, seemingly to work out the kinks, but drawing Gareth’s gaze inevitably to his pert ass and long legs, encased in snug black denim.

After over two weeks of drought, Gareth’s body took immediate notice of the display, especially when Jack pushed his aviators up to rest amid his dark choppy hair, tipped his head back, and basked in the sunshine. Having seen in the past how quickly Jack’s skin caught the sun—he had looked like a local after a mere week in the desert—Gareth knew that he would be asked the following morning if he’d had a good holiday. But that wasn’t what made Gareth’s jeans grow uncomfortably tight. No, that reaction was due to him imagining Jack spread out on their bed, his skin gleaming golden in soft lamplight, and with the same blissful look on his face that he wore right then.

Damn the brat for playing his little games in public! Gareth drew a deep breath and then another, trying to calm his heart and mind. Of course it didn’t work. Wishing the beach and everyone on it into the second circle of hell had no effect either.

“Perfect. Just… perfect,” he grumbled, catching up with Jack.

“Told you. Best oysters in England.”
---

OTHER BOOKS IN THE POWER OF ZERO SERIES...

Job Hunt Book #1 Cover
Publication Date: May 13, 2015 
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBT, M/M, Romance, Suspense

BUY: AmazonAmazon PRINTB&NKOBOiBooksAReDreamspinner Press

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Ghosts Book #2 Cover

Publication Date: February 10, 2016 
Genres: Adult,Contemporary, LGBT, M/M, Novella, Romance, Suspense

BUY: AmazonB&NKOBOiBooksAReDreamspinner Press.

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Jackie KeswickJackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurrent dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop. Jackie loves stories about unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She has a thing for green eyes and tight cyclist’s butts and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat. And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.



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BOOK BLITZ, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY - Pearl by Deirdre Riordan Hall

Pearl 

Deirdre Riordan Hall
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: March 1st 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Purchase Now: Amazon


Run fast and run far, unless you’re fearless. Unless you’re courageous. I’m not, but I’d like to be.

Pearl Jaeger is seventeen and homeless after drugs, poverty, and addiction unraveled the life she shared with JJ, her formerly glamorous rock star mother.

This moment of happiness is fleeting; someone will take it from me.

When tragedy brings a chance to start over at an elite boarding school, she doesn’t hesitate. Yet the only salvation comes from an art teacher as troubled as Pearl, and she faces the stark reality that what she thought she wanted isn’t straightforward.

I trace the outline of my reflection in a window. I am no more than a replica of my mother. This is not the self-portrait I want to paint.

Through the friendships she forms at school—especially with Grant, a boy who shows Pearl what it means to trust and forgive—she begins to see a path not defined by her past. But when confronted with the decision to be courageous or to take the easy way forged by her mother’s failures, which direction will Pearl choose?

EXCERPT

Chapter 2

Sweat and tears intermingle on my mother’s face, and a cut bleeds slowly from the side of her eye.

“Pearl, we gotta get out of here.”

I’ve heard this before. We’ve had to leave abruptly from other situations: lousy boyfriends, landlords she owed rent to, roommates she’d stolen from, and the police.

As the stream of blood reaches her T-shirt, she clutches her side. Her face crumples in agony. “I think I have a broken rib. He hit me with his guitar.”

Everything about this is wrong. I want to wish it all away—go somewhere simple, clean, and faraway, like Antarctica. I’d prefer the cold to the fevered flush of fear running through me. I get to my feet and grab a pair of stretch pants from the floor. I help her into them. As she leans on me, we slowly make our way to the door. In the hall, she falls against the door frame of the bathroom.

“Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She probably needs an ambulance, but who knows how much crack—and whatever else—she has in her system, so I dare not get the police involved. We’ve gone that route, and I don’t want to see her arrested again.

“Wait. Get my purse and some clothing. Pack me a bag. No, never mind. I’ll do it,” she says hoarsely. She gets to her hands and knees and crawls back to her room.

“Mom, come on, let’s just go. I can come back for whatever you need later.” I grip my hands together, my fingers blanching as I hold on tight.

“I have to get a few things,” she whimpers.

“I’ll get them. Tell me what you need,” I say insistently, my vision starting to blur.

She shakes her head, continuing. She wants to get the crack pipe and other drug paraphernalia she has hidden in her room. This scenario is uncomfortably familiar.

I shift from foot to foot. My stomach clenches with anxiety. What if Darren comes back?

Part of me fears what other damage he might do, but the bitter part is that if he comes back with drugs, she’ll do them instead of getting medical attention.

“Mom, let’s go.”

She must have used the bed to pull herself up and stand, because she emerges, staggering on her feet, dragging a duffel bag. “Why don’t you grab some clothes too?”

I scoot past her and stuff a couple of outfits, underwear, and Vogue into my backpack. I scrounged whatever I could this past month, saving every penny, even the ones I found on the ground, to get the latest issue, my lone extravagance. “Ready?” I say when I step back into the hall.

She nods. Step-by-step, we make our way down two of the three flights. She droops on the top of the last one.

“Do you have any money?” she asks.

“No,” I answer honestly. I tried getting a job, but no luck. I com- plain that I have a young face, and well-meaning adults assure me that when I get older, I’ll be thankful. It doesn’t help me now. I inherited my mother’s youthful look, the one she had before drugs and alcohol took their toll. But I’m already taller than her, five seven to her five three, my father’s genes. I’m slender, but that probably has more to do with the scarcity of a hot meal than anything else. She occasionally reminds me I have my father’s gray eyes and his height, like my DNA insults her.

She mumbles something about going to the bank, but all she’ll find are overdraft fees and denied credit. I’m afraid to tell her.

“Go out to the street. See if you recognize anyone. Tell them I need to see them,” she orders me.

I bound down the stairs. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust as I emerge into the bright summer sun. I look up and down the sidewalk. A homeless guy perches on top of a newspaper box, and a kid rides by on a bike. Finding someone my mother knows is a sketchy task. I retreat inside.

“I didn’t see anyone.”

“Pearl, I need to get out of here.” Her cheek rests against the grimy wall, and the gash on the other side still bleeds, staining her yellow T-shirt crimson around the shoulder. “Go across the street to the apartment with the Christmas wreath on the door. Knock six times.” She lifts her knuckles and beats them, weakly, on the floor. “Ask for Pauline.”

The building across the street houses a pimp and an assortment of women who emerge, raccoon-like, around dusk. I’ve met Pauline, long limbed, with scars on her arms that she doesn’t try to hide. My mother has gone over there a few times and returned with fifty, and sometimes a hundred, bucks.

I knock as directed. Vinyl blinds part, and a pair of bloodshot eyes appear. The door opens a crack. I seize the opportunity.

“I’m looking for Pauline. My mom, across the street, needs to see her. It’s urgent.”

The door opens just enough to let me slip through into a dark foyer. Something like cinnamon hangs in the air, but mostly I smell cigarettes and defeat.

A woman about my mom’s age, wearing a silk robe, leads me back to the kitchen.

“Midge. Says she’s lookin’ for Pauline. Somethin’ about her mother across the street.”

A giant of a man sits at the kitchen table, playing solitaire. He looks up at me and licks his lips. “Whatcha looking for, sweetheart?”

I swallow hard. Leave it to my mother to put me in this situation. I draw a breath. “Janet, across the street, Pauline’s friend, she just needs her help real quick.” I sense that if I bring any word of trouble to the table, they’ll escort me to the door.

Midge looks at me full on, his eyes simultaneously hungry and concerned. Finally, he jerks his head toward the lady who answered the door. She gives me a sharp look before exiting.

“Pauline will be right with you,” he says gruffly before returning to his game.

With the toe of my boot, I trace the lines between the tiles on the floor like a maze, trying to find a way out of feeling vulnerable and helpless.

I hear Pauline’s smoky voice from down the hall before she appears. She greets me with her arms opened wide. Even though we’ve only met a few times, a long embrace is her customary greeting.

As we exit the shady building, Pauline asks, “You still collecting those magazines?”

I nod.

“I’ll be sure to save some for you. Sometimes the girls leave them in the house.”

I hope I’m not still hanging around here by the time the next issue comes out.

I jaywalk through traffic, filling Pauline in on what happened. I worry Darren may have returned.

When Pauline pushes open the door to the building, my mother is where I left her, but with her eyes closed. At first, I fear she fainted, but she’s probably been up at least twenty-four hours, if not longer. Pauline, gentle as ever, strokes my mother’s leg to wake her up. For a vague instant, I picture Pauline tending babies or the elderly. She doesn’t belong in this harsh life.

“Pauline,” my mom says, brightening. “Hiya, JJ, how ya doin’?” she coos softly. “Been better.” “Well, come on,” Pauline says, wrapping her arms underneath my mother’s to help her up. “Where we going?” Pauline asks, but before my mother answers,

Pauline suggests, “How about the Constance House up on Riverside?” I get the sense she’s done this before. Constance House is a battered women’s shelter—a place I doubt will abide my mother’s lifestyle—and as such, I expect Janet to protest, but apparently Pauline’s caring manner is all the convincing she needs.

“Pearl, you have a towel or something? She can’t go in a cab like this. She needs shoes too.”

I run upstairs. Each step reminds me that Darren might be back any second. I grab a pair of flip-flops and look in the bathroom cabinet for a towel. There aren’t any clean, so I pull a worn pillowcase off the bed and race back down to meet them outside.

“Thatta girl. Thanks,” Pauline says as she helps my mother into the flip-flops. Janet’s eyes are nearly closed as she leans heavily against Pauline’s shoulder.

It’s times like these I’d also like to give myself over to Pauline’s capable hands, the hands of a mother, sister, caretaker. Instead, she hails a cab and hands me a twenty.

“Look after her, Pearl,” she says before I close the cab door. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but how can she expect a kid to look after a grown woman when neither one knows how to take care of herself?

The cab drops us off on a side street in front of an anonymous brick building. A woman with tight curls confidently helps us inside. I flash to a magazine clipping of my mother holding her hand up to the camera as she emerged from a limo, back when the Shrapnels were big. It was rock star glitz and glamour. Now it’s just grit.
During her teens, Deirdre Riordan Hall traveled throughout the United States and Europe, developing a love for stories and a desire to connect with worlds—imagined or real—on the page. She has written Sugar, To the Sea, Surfaced, and the Follow Your Bliss series. When not spending time with her family, writing, or traveling, Hall is at the beach, pretending to be a mermaid.





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