Friday, 31 March 2017

We Thought We Knew It All (Invincible Book 2) by Michelle Lynn

I received an advance copy of this book for free. Thanks to author Michelle Lynn.
We Thought We Knew It All (Invincible Book 2)
Blurb (from Goodreads):
Much can happen in ten years. People change. Life occurs; death ensues. Secrets are kept; truth prevails.

A decade has passed since Callie and Jamie exchanged goodbyes. At the time, they didn’t realize it might be their final exchange, and they’d disappear from each other’s lives. But that’s exactly what happened. Now, Callie finds herself at a crossroads. Caught between her current life and the longing for her past, she must decide what is best for her.

Jamie has worked hard to make something of himself — to prove his father wrong. Life as an Army Ranger isn’t easy, but it’s who he is down to his core. When everything starts to crumble, he receives news from home that makes him think about his life. Earlier, he vowed never to set foot in Gulf City again. Now, there's no reason he can’t go home.

Except there is... And her name is California McCoy.


We Thought We Knew It All by Michelle Lynn

My rating: 3.25 of 5 stars


We Thought We Knew It All (Invincible Book 2) “I was in love with a stubborn, foolish, control-freak of a man and he was going to forgive me because it was always meant to be us.”


This was an adult contemporary romance story, featuring the characters from book 1 ten years on.

Callie was an okay character, but I found it quite hard to see her as the mother of three children. She seemed to cope really well though, even though she was a single mum, and seemed to have plenty of time to accomplish stuff.

The storyline in this was about Callie and Jamie meeting again ten years later, and still having feelings for one another. Callie was moving back home with her three kids, and Jamie was leaving the army. It was good to see them ten years on, and interesting to see what they were up to.

The ending to this was happy, and I was pleased with the way things turned out.



6.5 out of 10

Of Glitter and Gold: A Canary Club Anthology by Sherry D. Ficklin #Giveaway


Of Glitter and Gold: A Canary Club Anthology
Sherry D. Ficklin
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: March 27th 2017
Genres: Historical, Young Adult
Set during the flamboyant anything-goes era of 1920’s America, these three tales are filled with intriguing characters and rich imagery from the time period—with flappers, jazz music, gangsters, and lavish wealth. Escape to a different decade today with the compelling stories of the Canary Club Anthology.
Novelette 1- Gilded Cage
Masie, the flaxen-haired daughter of notorious bootlegger Dutch Schultz, returns home from boarding school to find her family in crisis. Her mother is dangerously unstable, her father’s empire is on the brink of ruin, and the boy she once loved has become a ruthless killer for hire. To keep her family’s dangerous secrets, Masie is forced into a lie that will change the course of her future—and leave her trapped in a gilded cage of her own making.
Novelette 2- All That Glitters
A dame with brains, moxie, and killer curves, June West isn’t your average flapper. She’s managed to endear herself to the son of one of the most powerful gangsters in New York, earning herself a spot in the limelight that she’s always longed for. With the infamous playboy at her side, June has become accustomed to living the high life. Lavish parties, expensive clothes, sparkling jewels—nothing is beyond her reach. But when her carefully woven web of lies finally catches up with her, she must make an impossible choice… come clean about her past and risk losing everything, or find a way to bury her demons—once and for all.
Novelette 3 – Nothing Gold
Dickey has been down on his luck since the day he was born. Flat broke and sick of being looked down on, he meets young socialite Lillian at a wild party. The connection is like a strike of lightning. From a wealthy New York family, this debutante is everything he’s been told he can never have—and the only thing he wants. Determined to win her, he knows the only way to get her parents approval is with cold hard cash. So when a shot at the biggest score of his life comes around, he just can’t refuse…
NOTHING GOLD EXCERPT:
It’s easier than I imagined to sneak into the party. The music is so loud and the crowd so enormous that no one sees me wind my way through the shrubs on the outskirts. The massive estate is far enough away from the city that I had to hitch a ride to get here, and I’ll have to time my exit just right to make the train back to Manhattan.
Brushing off my secondhand suit coat, I enter the party via the back patio. A wide pool is filled with people, most still in their fancy evening wear. My eyes slide past them, searching for the one person at this shindig that I know. I scan past butlers with white gloves holding silver trays covered in champagne glasses, past gleeful dames in short skirts with blood-red lips, and past gents in their glad rags I can tell with one glance cost more dough than I make in a year working at the mill.
When I finally see him, his pinstripe suit, matching fedora, and red pocket square, he’s standing atop the massive staircase on the ledge overlooking the party. Deacon Brewer, the reason I’m here tonight. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his trousers as he chats up a fella I don’t recognize, along with the dame hanging off his arm. Plastering on an easy grin, I wind my way through the people, helping myself to a glass of bubbly as I head for the stairs. The stone steps are covered in gold confetti, the whole place practically dripping with it. Long, red velvet drapes hang from arched windows, and leafless branches painted gold and draped with crystal beads sit in tall vases in every corner. Nothing has been left un-gilded.
I shake my head at the audacity. Might as well have a neon sign—someone, please rob the joint.
Deacon sees me coming and dismisses himself from his conversation, welcoming me with an open hand.
“Dickey Lewis, glad you could make it, boy,” he offers warmly.
As if I had a choice.
“Of course, Mr. Brewer,” I respond with more warmth than I feel. Truth is that I’m in deep to Deacon after a few bad bets at his club last month, and he opted to make me work it off rather than take it outta my hide. I suppose that makes him clever, but I can’t help the gnawing feeling that this is a debt I may never fully repay. “What’s the score?” I ask, lowering my voice.
Draping an arm across my shoulders, he walks me through the glass doors and into the house. Still crammed with people drinking, dancing, and generally wrecking the joint, he pulls a cigar from his vest pocket with his free hand.
“Upstairs in the den is a lovely Monet, behind which is a very large safe. Cash, some baubles, and a bankbook are inside. I don’t care about the rest; you take what you need. But the bankbook needs to find its way into my hands tomorrow morning by eight am.”
I take a deep breath, rolling my tongue over my teeth before answering, “How am I supposed to get into the safe?”
He barks a deep laugh, slapping me on the back. “Guess you’ll have to get a little creative. Just get in, get out, and don’t let nobody see ya, got it?”
All I can do is nod and watch him swagger away. Sure, I’ve boosted loot before, but always simple jobs, smash and grabs. Nothing like this. What have I gotten myself into this time?
Still, whatever else is in there is mine for the taking, I tell myself. Could be a big pay day, judging by the looks of the place.
I wander casually through the house, trying to look as if I belong while also counting the number of cops and guards watching the area. It’s not as many as I expected. I grab a dark-haired dame by the waist, offering her a charming smile and asking for a dance. We Charleston together for two songs, finally stopping to imbibe more champagne. When I ‘accidently’ stumble into her, she spills the contents of her glass on my jacket, fumbling a wide-eyed apology.
Waving her off with a smile, I hand her my glass, “You take this, and I’ll go find a place to wash up.”
“You could always take a dip in the pool, honey,” she says, batting her eyelashes.
Beside her, a gentleman points up a secondary set of stairs near the front door. “Washroom is up there, I think.”
I mutter a thanks and a promise to return, then make my way up the stairs, continuing to stumble around as if drunk, occasionally opening a door to find a couple necking or a room full of folks smoking the Indian hop in long pipes.
Finally, the thumping of the music fading below me, I make my way to the library. Beyond that, I find the only locked door on the entire floor. Digging into my pocket, I pull out my lock kit, a simple flattened iron jimmy and a hooked pick. Sliding both in the lock, I slide them back and forth, listening for the mechanism inside to release. It doesn’t take long and the door springs open, allowing me to step inside and close it quickly behind me. It’s dark except for the glow of a single lamp atop a massive oak desk, behind which is a tall arched window overlooking the front of the estate. From this spot, I can see the cars lined up along the circular drive, partygoers coming and going in wild abandon. Pulling the pocket watch from my vest, I wipe my fingers across the cracked glass face, checking the time. Only thirty minutes until the train. If I miss it, it’ll be two hours before the next one. Not the end of the world, unless someone notices the lift before I’m gone. That’s a long time to stick around with a pocket fulla stolen goods.
I glance around me, the blood chilling in my veins. Every wall except the one with the window is covered in framed paintings. And I have no idea which one is a Monet.
Scrambling, I begin lifting each, checking the wall behind for any sign of the safe. Finally, on the opposite wall from where I started, I find it. Carefully lifting the heavy canvas free, I set it on the floor and turn my attention to the wall safe. It’s not large, about the size of a bread box with a spinning combination dial in the center. Unsure what else to do, I pull the pocket knife free from my trousers and flick it open, trying to wedge it between the door and the frame. As soon as I do, I know it’s going to be futile. The thing is heavy steel; no way my knife is gonna bust it open. Putting it away, I begin spinning the dial at random, praying I’ll get lucky.
I’m so flustered I don’t hear the door open or the footsteps from behind me until it’s too late.
“It’s my birthday,” a voice offers, making me spin, hands balled into fists to fight my way free from the room.
The dame is tall, her garnet-red hair rolled into bouncy curls and pinned in a messy heap at the back of her neck. Her dress is green, almost the same color as her eyes, and it hugs her slender frame as if it were a second skin. Even the long strings of pearls twined around her neck seems completely natural, not just a decoration but an extension of her. I take a breath, blinking, momentarily stunned. She drapes one hand on her hip, her entire body listing to the side as she points to the safe.
“The combination,” she repeats. “It’s my birthday.”
Finally recovering my voice, I stammer. “I was, uh, just…”
The corners of her mouth turn upward. “Breaking into my father’s safe?”
I don’t know what to say. I feel her in the room, the way one might feel the air change right before a storm, a heaviness that settles in, leaving my soul with a sense of foreboding. My instincts battle inside me. Do I grab her and tie her to a chair, or do I flee? The weight of her gaze makes it impossible to think clearly.
“Relax,” she says, raising a glass I hadn’t noticed her holding to her lips and taking a slow drink. “I’m not calling the guards if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh? You’re just gonna let me crack this safe and walk away with whatever’s inside?”
She shrugs. “It’s not my money. What do I care?”
I lick my lips, sizing her up. A spoiled little rich girl who wants to stick it to Daddy. I’ve seen a few of those in my day. I can work with this—if I can get my head back on straight. It’s not like me to get so flustered by a dame, not even a high-quality one like this.
“Besides…” She sets the glass on the desk and saunters toward me. “It’s not like we don’t have enough.”
I catch a hint of her perfume in the air when she brushes by me, lavender and something else I can’t quite place. Taking the dial in her hand, she spins the knob until the door finally clicks, then she steps back, giving me a go-ahead gesture.
I hesitate, flicking glances at the bare skin where her neck meets her shoulder, at the creamy whiteness of her skin, before settling my eyes on her face. “What’s your name, doll?”
She looks down, sheepishly at first, but then raises just her eyes to look at me with an expression of bold defiance. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
I swallow, considering her offer. She’s already gotten a good look at me, enough to rat me out to the cops. The look on her face is one of challenge, I realize. She’s daring me to trust her.
“Dickey,” I say, pulling the flat cap off my head and holding it over my heart as I bow to her. “Dickey Lewis, at your service, Miss?”
“Lillian Rose Duke,” she answers. “But my friends call me Lilly.”
Replacing my hat, I grab the safe handle and twist, pulling open the heavy door. Grabbing a large wooden box first, I hold it out to her. Moving back, I grab two stacks of fresh bills and stuff them in the pockets of my suitcoat. Finding the bankbook last, I tuck it into the back of my pants before pulling my shirt and jacket over it.
I spin to Lilly, watching as she upends the box, spilling jewelry onto the desk in a pile. She picks through it, finally just scooping it all into her hand and sauntering over to me. Getting so close I feel the warmth of her, she grabs the lapel of my jacket, sliding the gold and stones into the inside pocket.
“Give these to your girl, Dickey Lewis.”
She releases my lapel, but doesn’t step away. Instead, she leans forward. Thinking she’s going to kiss me, I straighten in anticipation, but she just trails her fingers along my collar until she’s cupping the back of my neck.
“I ain’t got no girl,” I admit, my heart pounding behind my ribs.
“Well, isn’t that a shame?” she says, her lips a hair’s breadth from mine.
Unable to resist, I close the final distance between us, clutching her by the waist as I urge her lips to mine. I’ve never tasted gold before, but I imagine this is what it would be like—champagne, honey, and nerves of steel. When she finally pulls away, I’m gasping. Tugging tugs the white linen handkerchief from my pocket, she wipes my face, then hers, of her smeared lipstick before returning the hankie to its place.
“I hope to see you around, Dickey Lewis.”
With that, she spins on her heel and heads for the door, listening for a moment before pulling it open and stepping out. The room is instantly colder, the air thinner. I can finally breathe, can think.
As I slink from the party and disappear into the shadows, making my way down the street to the train station, I can’t force the sight of her from my mind, or the taste of her from my lips.
Even if it takes every penny in my pocket and every breath in my body, I will see Lillian Rose Duke again.


Author Bio:
Sherry D. Ficklin is a full time writer from Colorado where she lives with her husband, four kids, two dogs, and a fluctuating number of chickens and house guests. A former military brat, she loves to travel and meet new people. She can often be found browsing her local bookstore with a large white hot chocolate in one hand and a towering stack of books in the other. That is, unless she’s on deadline at which time she, like the Loch Ness monster, is only seen in blurry photographs.

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Thursday, 30 March 2017

Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan #1) by Olivia Wildenstein

Sponsored post: I received an advance copy of this book for free. Thanks to author Olivia Wildenstein, and NetGalley.
Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan #1)
Blurb (from Goodreads):
ANCIENT SECRETS CANNOT REMAIN BURIED FOREVER.

Founded two centuries ago by a powerful tribe of Gottwa Indians, Rowan was a quiet town, so quiet that I fled after graduation. Staying away was the plan, but Mom died suddenly.

Dad said she suffered a stroke after she dug up one of the ancient graves in our backyard, which happens to be the town cemetery. Creepy, I know. Creepier still, there was no corpse inside the old coffin, only fresh rose petals.

As we made preparations for Mom’s burial, new people began arriving in Rowan, unnervingly handsome and odd people. I begged them to leave, but they stayed, because their enemies—my ancestors—were beginning to awaken.


Rose Petal Graves by Olivia Wildenstein

My rating: 3.25 of 5 stars


Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan #1) "What's with the rose petals?"
"They're said to preserve the bodies of dead faeries."


This was a YA fantasy story featuring the fae.

Catori had to deal with a lot in this book, with first her mother's death, and then all the information about faeries, and fae hunters, and her place among them. I did feel sorry for her because of her mother's death, especially when it seemed like she had more grief to come as the book progressed.

The storyline in this was about Catori coming home from university to attend her mother's funeral, and finding an unearthed casket filled with rose petals that her mother had dug up in the cemetary. Supposedly her mother had had a heart attack whilst digging up the coffin, which Catori didn't believe, and she also didn't understand why the casket was filled with rose petals rather than remains.
We then got a story about Catori's ancenstors being fae hunters, and a sexy but unavailable medical examiner who just so happened to be fae. I did find the number of characters in this a bit confusing though, and keeping straight who was a hunter and who was fae turned out to be quite difficult.
We had a number of love interests in this story too, with the sexy but engaged medical examiner, Catori's best friend Blake, and a hunter called Kajika, but I didn't really get a strong feeling for any of them.

The ending to this was okay, although not a lot seemed to have been resolved.



6.5 out of 10

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

100 Hours (100 Hours #1) by Rachel Vincent

Sponsored post: I received an advance copy of this book for free. Thanks to HarperCollins and Edelweiss.
100 Hours (100 Hours, #1)
Blurb (from Goodreads):
A decadent spring break getaway on an exotic beach becomes a terrifying survival story when six Miami teens are kidnapped and ransomed.

Maddie is beyond done with her cousin Genesis’s entitled and shallow entourage. Genesis is so over Miami’s predictable social scene with its velvet ropes, petty power plays, and backstabbing boyfriends.

While Maddie craves family time for spring break, Genesis seeks novelty—like a last-minute getaway to an untouched beach in Colombia. And when Genesis wants something, it happens.

But paradise has its price. Dragged from their tents under the cover of dark, Genesis, Maddie, and their friends are kidnapped and held for ransom deep inside the jungle—with no diva left behind. It all feels so random to everyone except Genesis. She knows they were targeted for a reason. And that reason is her.

Now, as the hours count down, only one thing’s for certain: If the Miami hostages can’t set aside their personal problems, no one will make it out alive.


100 Hours by Rachel Vincent

My rating: 3.5 of 5 stars


100 Hours (100 Hours, #1) "The barrel of a rifle slides inside my tent. I gasp and scramble backward, but can't tear my gaze from the muzzle aimed at my chest."


This was a YA survival story, about a group of teens kidnapped in Columbia.

Genesis was an interesting character and I liked how she always assessed a situation and looked for the best plan of action before acting. I did feel sorry her at times though, especially when it seemed that more than one person had betrayed her.

The storyline in this was about Genesis and a group of her friends going to Colombia over spring break and getting kidnapped and ransomed by a group of people with guns. Among the friends were Genesis' cousins Maddie and Ryan, and half of the story was told from Maddie's point of view, whilst the other half was from Genesis' point of view. Maddie was diabetic, and running out of insulin which added some extra drama to the story, and we also got an unexpected death quite early on. I did find the story a little hard to get into at first, with so many different characters being introduced at once, but once I got to know everybody things were a bit easier to follow.
There was quite a bit of romantic drama going on as well, and some cheating too, but it didn't take away from the main story.

The ending to this left us with a cliff-hanger.



7 out of 10

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Just a Girl by Carrie Mesrobian

Sponsored post: I received an advance copy of this book for free. Thanks to HarperCollins and Edelweiss.
Just a Girl
Blurb (from Goodreads):
Taking a hard look at the societal conventions that constrain teenage girls, William C. Morris Award finalist Carrie Mesrobian tells one girl’s story with bracing honesty and refreshing authenticity.

By her senior year of high school, Rianne has exhausted all the fun there is to have in small town Wereford, Minnesota. Volleyball season is winding down, the parties all feel tired, and now that she’s in a serious relationship with reformed player Luke Pinsky, her wild streak has ended. Not that she ever did anything more than the guys her age did...but she knows what everyone thinks of her.

Including her parents. Divorced but now inexplicably living together again, Rianne wonders why they’re so quick to point out every bad choice she’s making when they can’t even act like adults. With an uncomfortable home life and her once-solid group of friends now dissolving, the reasons for sticking around after high school are few. So why is Rianne in lockstep when it comes to figuring out her future?

That’s not the only question Rianne can’t answer. Lately she’s been wondering why, when she has a perfect-on-paper boyfriend, she wants anything but. Or how it is that Sergei, a broken-English-speaking Russian, understands her better than anyone who’s known her all her life? And why has Rianne gotten stuck with an “easy girl” reputation for doing the same exact things guys do without any judgment? Carrie Mesrobian, acclaimed author of Sex & Violence and Cut Both Ways, sets fire to the unfair stereotypes and contradictions that persist even in the twenty-first century.


Just a Girl by Carrie Mesrobian

My rating: 3.25 of 5 stars


Just a Girl “Even having this sex was boring. Uninteresting. She tried to make good sounds so he wouldn’t notice.”


This was a YA contemporary story about a girl called Rianne.

Rianne was a girl who seemed to get used a lot, especially by boys. She seemed to throw her virginity away like it meant nothing, and then hooked up with quite a few other guys just for something to do. I did feel sorry for her when her mother told her she needed to move out though.

The storyline in this was basically just about Rianne’s day-to-day life and her sex life, and we did get cheating in this book, with Rianne sleeping with another guy whilst in a relationship with someone else. The story was enjoyable though, even if it seemed to lack direction a bit.

The ending to this was a little odd, and I really did wonder what would happen to Rianne next.



6.5 out of 10

Monday, 27 March 2017

Moments of Beauty by J.B. Heller #Giveaway


Moments of Beauty
J.B. Heller
Publication date: March 23rd 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Ugly. It the only word to describe my upbringing.
It drove my need to capture every moment of beauty I could find. A glimpse of a mother’s love. A feather floating in the breeze. A ray of sunshine emerging on a rainy day.
And then there was her, Eliza Quinn, she signified everything I didn’t deserve. She showed me more beauty than I ever thought possible. And I took it all, despite knowing I was going to leave her, and never come back.
Leaving her five years ago was my biggest mistake, and my greatest regret. Now I need to make amends. I thought leaving her was the hardest thing I’d ever have to do, but that was before I knew I had to win her back.
EXCERPT:
ELIZA
It’s him.
Huxley Haynes.
The boy who thinks he’s invisible, but I see him.
I didn’t know anyone else knew about this spot. Well, not exactly, I know I’m not the first person to ever find it, but I’ve never run into anybody else here.
The expression on his face is comical. Something between terrified and busted. I watch him as he watches me, and I wait for him to say something. But he doesn’t. He just stands there gripping a camera in his hands like it’s a life raft.
“I won’t bite.” I say, in an attempt to break the ice.
He frowns for a moment then says, “I know.”
“So why haven’t you said anything?” I ask.
His Adams apple bobs as he swallows, “Ah, I’m not sure what you want me to say?”
I shrug, “I don’t mind. You could say something like, ‘Hi Eliza, nice running into you.’” I do my best to imitate his deeper voice and he cracks a small grin.
“Hi Eliza, nice running into you.”
It sounds so much better when he says it. His voice is deep and husky, it sends a shiver through my body and I grin back. “Hey Hux, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you here before.”
He scratches his temple before answering me. “You know who I am?” he asks.
“Of course I do. What, have I been living under a rock for the last seventeen years?” I ask incredulous. I’m actually a little offended he doesn’t think I know who he is. We’ve lived in the same town since we were born.
The corner of his lips lift slightly at the sass in my tone. “No, but I’m not exactly your kind of crowd.”
I raise a brow, “Are you trying to offend me?”
He shakes his head, just slightly, “No.”
“So what’s with the line of questions?” I shoot back.
He scratches his temple again, “We don’t, I mean, I’m not,” he sighs and looks at his feet, “I just didn’t think you knew who I was.”
My hands have moved to my hips now, “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve lived in the same town and gone to the same schools since forever.” Then I realise what he means, “Oh, you think I’m one of those conceited bitches who doesn’t acknowledge people I deem as beneath me. How nice of you to judge me when you don’t even know me.”
His head shoots up and there’s panic in his grey eyes, “No, I don’t think that.”
I snort, “Really? Cause that’s the vibe you’re giving off right now.”
He shifts his backpack around and puts his camera inside the open pocket then zips it back up. “This is a really strange conversation,” he supplies.
“You’re the one making it that way. I was being friendly,” I snark at him. And I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I’m not normally so defensive. But his short answers and the fact that he clearly thinks I’m one of those people annoys me. I don’t care if other people think I’m like that, but not him.
Swinging his pack back over his shoulder he chews the corner of his bottom lip for a second and nods, “Yeah okay. Sorry. Guess I’m not a great conversationalist.”
“Do-over?” I suggest, and when he nods I continue, “Hey Hux, fancy seeing you here.”
He hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of his dirt covered jeans, “Hi Eliza, nice running into you.”
I can’t help the smile that takes over my face, “So, what are you doing here? And why are you so dirty?”
Looking down at his jeans he gives me a sheepish grin, “I was de-rocking a garden bed this afternoon, it’s dirty work.”
I snicker because my mind goes to naughty places when he says that. And the twinkle in his eyes says he knows exactly what I’m thinking, so I don’t hold back. “Dirty work for a dirty boy, huh.”
He chuckles, “Something like that.”
Oh my…I’ve never heard him laugh before, it sounds so good. But that’s when I notice a big blackish-blue bruise on his upper arm, “What’s with the bruise? Did the rocks object to being de-rocked?”
He glances at his bicep and grimaces, then clears his throat, “Something like that.”
Right, doesn’t want to talk about the bruise. I change the subject, “Nice spot huh?” I say looking around at the moss covered boulders and the crystal clear water around my ankles.
“Yeah, I take pictures here sometimes.”
And I’m shocked he gave me that much of an answer. But before I have a chance to ask him about it he says he has to go. I can’t deny I’m disappointed, I’ve wanted to talk to him for ages. But he’s not exactly approachable.
“Oh, okay. It was nice to see you Hux.” I say as he begins walking away from me.
He looks back at me over his shoulder, “Yeah, you too.”
Then he disappears into the trees.


Author Bio:
JB Heller is an average Aussie housewife in her late 20’s with a wicked sexy imagination. She and her super sexy husband are the parents of three minions, two Great Danes and a Cat who thinks she’s a person.
She spends her days running around after her wildling children and jotting down stories in her flower embossed leather notebook (She is very particular about her stationary.). She’s a self-confessed Stationary Junky who’s constantly on the lookout for more.
Most day’s JB can be found glued to her laptop, taking advantage of school hours- writing as fast as she can while she can. Or trolling Pinterest for her next potential muse. And when she needs a break from the voices in her head she indulges in her favourite past time, reading.
Want to know more about JB? Check her out, you’ll be guaranteed a good laugh if nothing else.

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Sunday, 26 March 2017

Beautiful Dark by J.L. White #Giveaway


Beautiful Dark
J.L. White
(Beautiful Rivers, #3)
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Who is Mason Reeves?
Corrine Rivers and her cousins desperately need to find out. Evidence suggests he’s the illegitimate child of her beloved Uncle Grant. The truth is just as hard to bear.
What’s also hard is Mason himself. All over. From his broad, muscular chest and massive biceps to his “screw you” attitude. Because Mason Reeves wants nothing to do with his inheritance or the wealthy Rivers clan, and isn’t afraid to say so.
As Mason’s tragic connections to Corrine’s family emerge, the facts are reason enough for her to stay away. But she can’t seem to resist him, and what’s worse, he feels the same way about her. To everyone’s surprise, Corrine and Mason get in deep, in more ways than one. But it turns out the biggest obstacle to their happiness isn’t Mason’s past.
It’s hers.
EXCERPT:
Standing behind me, he says, “Corrine…” with that damned heated desire for me practically dripping from his voice. I ignore him.
I tug the ribbon at the back of my head, removing the mask and slapping it on the table.
I’m only just standing here, but I’m breathing hard and shallow. His breaths are coming hard too, but still he doesn’t move. He crossed half the country to get to me, but he won’t close the final one-foot gap.
I want to say that I wish he’d never come, but it’d be a big, fat lie. Even though it would’ve been so much easier, even though I’m hurt and angry about the situation we’re in now—which I know isn’t even his fault—my heart still clings to every second I’ve had with him, wishing so hard for more.
I hear his mask drop on the table next to me.
“Why did you even bother coming?” I spin to face him. And there he is. All him. No mask. No hiding. Only Mason. Just looking at him consumes me.
He doesn’t answer. His eyes grip me and his breath comes out in hard, little puffs. The intensity of his stare halts my own breath. God, he looks like he’s going to attack.
Then he does. He rushes me, cupping my face and backing me against the wall. I let out a gasp.
“I know this is a bad fucking idea,” he says heatedly, “but I’m so tired of fighting it. The whole flight over, I kept asking myself what the fuck I’m doing, but I have no idea. I only know I can’t take this any longer.”
Having this much testosterone aimed in my direction is making my ovaries pop. He’s so fucking male. I’m pinned, the wall behind me and nothing but Mason in front. He dominates everything I see. All I know is his hard body against mine, his hot breath on my lips, his gaze seizing me. I can’t look away. I can hardly breathe.
“I can’t resist you. I have to have you.” His eyes lock on my mouth. “I have to taste you.”
Stripped of the ability to speak, I can only part my lips in invitation. Begging him to give in at last.


Author Bio:
J.L. White writes sassy, steamy contemporary and new adult romances featuring smart heroines and the swoon-worthy men who adore them. If you’re tired of heroes who are jerks, heroines who are too stupid to live, and relationships that scream “train wreck” instead of “true love”, she’s your girl.
Her first series, the Firework Girls, centers around four amazing, hilarious girlfriends. Her newest series, Beautiful Rivers, follows the young heirs of the luxurious Rivers Paradise Resort as they find love.
Each book can be read as a STANDALONE, comes complete with a HEA, and is guaranteed to make you squirm.

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Saturday, 25 March 2017

Flames of Rebellion by Jay Allan #Giveaway


Flames of Rebellion
Jay Allan
(Flames of Rebellion, #1)
Published by: HarperVoyager
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Science Fiction
A group of rebels fighting for independence sows the seeds of revolution across the galaxy in this blockbuster military sci-fi adventure from the author of the Crimson Worlds and Far Stars series.
The planet Haven slides closer to revolution against its parent nation, Federal America. Everett Wells, the fair-minded planetary governor, has tried to create a peaceful resolution, but his failure has caused the government to send Asha Stanton, a ruthless federal operative, to quell the insurgency.
Wells quickly realizes that Stanton has the true power . . . and two battalions of government security troops—specifically trained to put down unrest—under her control. Unlike Wells, Stanton is prepared to resort to extreme methods to break the back of the gathering rebellion, including unleashing Colonel Robert Semmes, the psychopathic commander of her soldiers, on the Havenites.
But the people of Haven have their own ideas. They are not the beaten-down masses of Earth, but men and women with the courage and fortitude to tame a new world.
Damian Ward is such a resident of Haven, a retired veteran and decorated war hero, who has watched events on his adopted world with growing apprehension. He sympathizes with the revolutionaries, his friends and neighbors, but he is loath to rebel against the flag he fought to defend. That is, until Stanton’s reign of terror intrudes into his life—and threatens those he knows and loves. Then he does what he must, rallying Haven’s other veterans and leading them to the aid of the revolutionaries.
Yet the battle-scarred warrior knows that even if Haven’s freedom fighters defeat the federalists, the rebellion is far from over . . . it’s only just begun.
EXCERPT:
“Hey, Grant, let’s go, man.” Tomas Lopez spoke angrily, his face twisted into a scowl. He held a heavy bar of steel in one hand, and the other was raised above his head, curled into a defiant fist. He stared at Jamie Grant for a few seconds, as though he expected his fellow prisoner to leap up and rush to his side. But Jamie just stood next to the exposed rock wall and looked back.
“C’mon, Grant!” Lopez repeated. “It’s time. We’re shuttin’ down this whole damned mine this time. Ain’t nuthin’ gonna stop us. They won’t have no choice. They’ll have to listen to us when the ore stops flowin’!” Lopez stood about two meters away from his workmate, his grimy coveralls almost black from the ore dust that hung in the very air of the mine. There was rage in his face, and it seemed to radiate all around him.
There was activity everywhere in the massive cavern, and more angry yells. Dozens of mine workers, hundreds perhaps, were streaming away from their workplaces. They almost acted as one, grabbing tools, metal bars, anything that looked remotely like a weapon. They were shouting, a riotous cacophony of rebel slogans along with more generic cries and screams. The sound reverberated off the low ceilings of the tunnel, and Jamie could barely hear his friend’s words over the din.
“Not me, Tomas.” Jamie’s voice was grim, somber. He looked around the mine, feeling a wave of surprise at how many seemed to be joining the instigators. There had been work stoppages before, and a few outright riots, but this looked like something bigger, more dangerous. He felt the urge, just as his comrades did, to strike back against the federals, against the system that had stolen so much of his life. Against the guards who too often took sadistic delight in their work. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. There was something more important to him, and he struggled to stay focused on that.
“I’m staying right here,” he said finally. He wanted to go; every fiber in his body was twitching to join the riot. But he fought back against the urge. “I’ve been here twelve years, Tomas. Twelve years. I shoulda been outta here two years already. I can’t afford more trouble.”
Jamie had seen his share of disciplinary actions for sure. He’d been fifteen years old the day he was arrested for the third time. He’d gotten off twice before that with a flogging and a reduction in public assistance, but he’d only stolen food those times. The last time he’d taken money . . . and he’d used it to buy a hit of Blast. It hadn’t been for him, but for his mother. But that hadn’t made any difference.
Alicia Grant was a good-natured woman who’d become addicted to the drug when she’d been issued a month’s supply to deal with her grief after Jamie’s father was killed. Harold Grant had been shot when the federal police cracked down on a street rising. He’d lived for almost two hours, lying bleeding on the pavement, but by the time the authorities got around to the wounded rioters, it was too late.

Author Bio:
I currently live in New York City, and I've been reading science fiction and fantasy for just about as long as I've been reading. My tastes are fairly varied and eclectic, but I'd say favorites are military and dystopian science fiction and epic fantasy, usually a little bit gritty.
I write a lot of science fiction with military themes, but also other SF and some fantasy as well. I like complex characters and lots of backstory and action. Honestly, I think world-building is the heart of science fiction and fantasy, and since that is what I've always been drawn to as a reader, that is what I write.
I've been an investor and non-fiction writer for a long time, a fiction author more recently. When I'm not writing I enjoy traveling, running, hiking, reading. I love hearing from readers and always answer emails. I think you stop growing as a writer if you stop listening to readers.
Among other things, I write the bestselling Crimson Worlds series.
Join my mailing list at http://www.crimsonworlds.com for updates on new releases.

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Friday, 24 March 2017

Echo by Nana Malone #Giveaway


Echo
Nana Malone
(The Player #3)
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports
Money, power, prestige…freedom. Echo Coulter is—The Player.
You are a Coulter. You will be perfect. That’s what Echo has been told every day of her life. As the only girl in the Coulter clan, she knows it’s her job to be the glue of the family. But with the Olympics looming, the last thing she wants is to follow the rules. She wants to break free, and she knows just the guy to help her.
Cole Atkins has no interest in spoiled little rich girls. Besides, he’s got the job of a lifetime and just met the girl of his dreams…That is, until she ditches him under the cover of darkness. He can put her out of his head and deal with a spoiled princess for a couple of months right?
EXCERPT:
He knew where his mind should be. But that didn’t matter because right now it was filled with her, and how the scent of her clung to his skin. Someone that was supposed to be a one-night stand had somehow burrowed her way into his mind. Fine, whatever. He’d figure it out. He could find her again. How hard could it be?
Pulling on a pair of boxers, he looked around his apartment for any trace of her, but found nothing. No excuse to look her up to return something she forgot. If he wanted to see her again, he’d have to find her. And he was surprised by how strong that impulse was.
He’d hooked up a lot, but he’d never had a one-night stand that had gone quite like that. But then, he rarely woke during the night, and so he’d never taken the time to talk, like he had with Cece. Or maybe they’d overshared. He wondered if that was what had run her off so easily. He shook his head to force the thought aside. Not with what had happened between them after their little talk. He wouldn’t believe that they’d been able to connect so strongly physically, if the personal things they shared were what had made her run.
He’d never felt a connection like that before. Maybe her friend had dropped digits. If he couldn’t find her, that was it, he’d let it go. But he at least had to try.


Author Bio:
USA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she "borrowed" from her cousin.
It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
Want to know when the next book is coming? Hit up her Newsletter here. You'll only get updated when there is a new release or a special promotion for her Sexy, Sassy Readers. http://eepurl.com/2PeXb

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Thursday, 23 March 2017

Birthright (Legacy #1) by Jessica Ruddick

I received an advance copy of this book for free. Thanks to Jessica Ruddick and NetGalley.
Birthright (Legacy, #1)
Blurb (from Goodreads):
How do you live with yourself when you decide who dies?

Ava Parks would have killed for an iPod for her sixteenth birthday. Anything would have been better than coming into her birthright of being a seeker for the Grim Reaper, an arrangement made by her fallen angel ancestor in exchange for his re-admittance to heaven. And she isn’t just any seeker—she finds souls that have the potential for becoming angels and sentences them to death. A year and two souls into her role as a seeker with her conscience overflowing with guilt, Ava comes up with a plan to thwart the system. When it goes awry, she is forced to submit the name of a classmate, Cole Fowler, an ornery, rough around the edges guy who always seems to come to her rescue, whether she likes it or not. Her feelings for Cole prompt her to intervene, and she saves him from death, upsetting the Grim Reaper’s agenda.

While Ava schemes to find a way to save Cole, she learns he has some secrets of his own. She lets him believe he is protecting her, and not the other way around, until a final showdown with the Grim Reaper forces Ava to make choices Cole may never forgive.



Birthright by Jessica Ruddick

My rating: 3.25 of 5 stars

Birthright (Legacy, #1) “That’s when I learned the truth, that Xavier was our connection to the Grim Reaper, that our job was to find white fated souls to die and join the ranks of angels, that I’d already been inadvertently responsible for the deaths of at least two people.”


This was a YA paranormal romance story, featuring a girl who could read auras.

Ava’s heart seemed to be in the right place in this book, but she was maybe a little na├»ve to think that she could outsmart a reaper and get away with it. Cole was a good character, and it was nice of him to try and protect Ava the way he did.

The storyline in this was about Ava and her mother being seekers – people able to read auras, who searched for people with white auras, who had the potential to be angels. Ava didn’t like this job though as she felt that the deaths of the people she found were on her hands. When Ava realised that Cole had a white aura she then tried to protect him rather than turning him in to her handler, which didn’t go well really. We did get a bit of romance then between Ava and Cole, and a little bit of action too.

The ending to this was okay, but things were left fairly open.



6.5 out of 10

A Star to Steer Her By by Beth Anne Miller #Giveaway


A Star to Steer Her By
Beth Anne Miller
Published by: Entangled Embrace
Publication date: March 20th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance
I’m scarred. Broken. I’ll never be the same.
But I will take this journey.
Ever since my last dive ended in bloodshed, I’ve been terrified to go back into the water. But the opportunity to spend a semester at sea is too good to pass up. I need to get my life back.
I never expected to love it this much. And I never expected Tristan MacDougall.
Rugged, strong, and with demons of his own, Tristan helps me find the courage I thought I had lost and heals me with every stolen moment we share. But the rules of the ship mean we can’t be together.
When a dive excursion goes terribly wrong, our only hope for survival is each other.
EXCERPT:
I was standing alone at the helm, under full sails and a glittering sky, guiding the ship unerringly across the endless black sea with only the stars to guide me, like the sailors of old. It was amazing. This was why I was here, why I’d gone ahead with this semester at sea, even after everything that had happened. Because I loved the sea, and wanted it to be a part of my life.
I returned my gaze upward, focusing on my guide star.
“‘And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.’”
The low voice came out of nowhere. I spun to the right, where I could just make out the vague outline of someone leaning against the stanchion that held Speedy the motorboat suspended at the stern.
“Tristan?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I rolled my eyes in the darkness. Of course it was him.
“Aye, it’s me.”
“How long have you been standing there?” I hissed. “And where the hell did you come from?” I’d been at the helm for at least half an hour, and I knew he hadn’t been there the whole time.
There was a flash of white in the darkness as he grinned. “I’ve been here for about five minutes. You were so focused on staring up at the stars that you didn’t see me. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“So instead, you just lurked in the dark until you could scare the hell out of me. Makes sense,” I muttered, trying not to be too thrilled that he’d chosen to hang out up here with me. “What was it that you said, anyway?”
“It’s from a poem. The full verse is:
“‘I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.’”
His lilting accent gave the lines a musical quality, and a shiver ran down my spine. “It’s beautiful,” I said, “and perfectly describes the way I feel. You didn’t write that, did you?” Because it would be supremely unfair for him to be kind, gorgeous, athletic, musically brilliant, and a poet, too.


Author Bio:
My first book, written in elementary school, was bound in pink fabric and was about—what else?—a girl and her horse. I soon began cheating on horses with the sea, becoming an open water scuba diver at age 14. That love of the sea led me to a college semester aboard a schooner. I returned with fond memories of the exhilaration of being on a ship under full sail, less fond memories of hurling over the leeward rail on a daily basis, and a sailing bug I couldn’t quite shake.
In addition to horses and the sea, I have a fascination for all things Scottish (including, but not limited to, men in kilts), which I explored with my first novel, INTO THE SCOTTISH MIST (The Wild Rose Press, 2011), and carried into my new novel, A STAR TO STEER HER BY (Entangled Embrace, 2017). A native New Yorker, I work in the publishing industry and am always looking ahead to my next voyage, whether a short one on a dive boat or whale watch, or, with luck, a longer one on a tall ship. You can find me on the web at www.bethannemiller.com

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Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Rough by Sybil Bartel #Giveaway


Rough
Sybil Bartel
(Thrust, #2)
Publication date: March 20th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Jared
I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not the guy next door. I don’t even play nice.
My hands twisting in your hair, my whispered demand in your ear—I’m the fantasy you’ll wish you never had.
When I’m through with you, every inch of your body will know where I’ve been. You won’t crave more, you’ll beg for it. Because I’m not just the cocky smile with military hardened muscles you paid five grand for—I’m the experience you’ll never forget.
One night with me and you’ll know exactly why women pay me to be rough.
EXCERPT:
Desire hit me in the chest like a blast wave, then shot south. “You shouldn’t be here.” She didn’t look like she’d sounded on the phone.
“I’m sorry.” Breathy, her voice wavered. “I thought you said—”
“I know what I said.” I’d replayed every second of our conversation earlier. I’d fixated on it because this woman wasn’t like any other client I’d ever spoken to. She didn’t flirt or make one suggestive remark. She was exactly how she was now. But a hundred times more innocent.
She drew in a breath through her sexy full lips, then straightened. “Okay, well, you said we should meet. We did. Thank you for your time.” Slim fingers reached behind her and she fumbled with the handle of the front door.
I stared at her sweet mouth. “You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you have many thoughts, Mr. Brandt.”
My name on her lips sounded too damn polite. “Only two right now that matter.” I stepped closer, wondering why the hell I’d told her my last name.
She pulled the handle, the door opened a few inches and she stumbled.
“Careful.” I caught her arm and her hand landed on my stomach.
She sucked in a surprised breath. “I’m so sorry.” She bit her bottom lip and pressed her legs together as she stared at her hand. “It was, um, the door.” She flexed her fingers over my abs.
I leaned closer. “Do you know what separates fear from desire?”
Her chest rapidly rose and fell, but she didn’t take her hand off me. “I believe those are two terms that should be mutually exclusive.”
Hard and fast, I slapped my palm loudly against the door, slamming it shut. Perversely getting off on her startled reaction, I bit out two words, “That’s fear.” Calculated, slow, I dragged a finger a few inches up her bare thigh, then I cupped her face. She shivered and I dropped my voice. “But this?” I stroked her bottom lip as I stared at the thousand shades of fuck-my-life-up green in her eyes. “Biting your lip, pressing your thighs together—that’s desire.”
Her hand fisted, gripping a handful of my shirt, but she didn’t say a word.
Still holding on to her, wishing like hell I wasn’t about to let her go, I calmly shifted her to the side. Opening the door, I removed all threat from my tone. “Fear is triggered. Desire is provoked. Leave.” I told myself not to say the next line. “Or stay and get what you came for.”


Author Bio:
Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
But Seriously?
Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.
She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.
To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

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