Thursday, July 20, 2017

Wrecked Release Blitz



Author: JB Salsbury

On Sale: July 18, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Trade Paperback: $13.99 USD

eBook: $3.99 USD

Audio: $24.98 USD

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When you can't trust yourself, how can you ask anyone else to?

It's been months since Aden Colt left the Army, and still the memories haunt him. When he moved into a tiny boat off the California coast, he thought he'd found the perfect place to escape life. Then Sawyer shows up and turns his simple life upside down. Beautiful and sophisticated, she seems out of place in this laid-back beach town. Something is pushing her to experience everything she can—including Aden. But as much as he wants her, starting a relationship with Sawyer puts them both at risk. For Aden, the past doesn't stay there; it shows up unexpectedly, uncontrollably, and doesn't care whose life it wrecks.


Oh no, fuck no!
I thought he was kidding. I should’ve known better. Aden’s intentions with me since I stupidly boarded this boat have been my torment for his enjoyment. He loved watching me squirm over the bait tank and when I proved I wouldn’t shy away from a challenge, he pulled out the big guns. From his flirty smiles to his teasing touches, he’s discovered my weaknesses and is exploiting them for his own entertainment.
Now this? Raw fish probably still warm from fighting for its life.
And now I’m God knows how many feet above water sitting on a two-seater bench held up by rusty ladders and staring down a piece of glistening pink meat.
“You have to eat it, it’s a rite of passage.” He offers the meat to my lips and I quickly turn my face away.
“I’m really not hungry.” As if the idea isn’t enough to turn my stomach, watching him clean the fish before sectioning off enough for lunch wasn’t much of an appetite builder.
“Of course you are.” He brings the piece to his own mouth and takes a bite, closing his eyes with a moan as he chews.
I feel a rush of bile hit my throat, or maybe it’s beer, either way it’s warm and it burns. “That’s disgusting.”
“You’re telling me you don’t like sushi?”
My eyes widen. Sawyer would say she’s never had sushi. But Celia’s a different story. She ate a live cricket in the eighth grade on a dare. She didn’t even flinch. “I like sushi, just not directly from the…um…source.”
“Doesn’t get fresher than this.” He takes another bite and I can’t deny that his response to eating it does give it some appeal.
“I think I need soy sauce or that green stuff.” What’s it called?
“Just try it.”
“I really don’t want to.”
“Oh come on.” He smiles in that cute crooked way that makes my heart dip and dive. “Live a little.”
I chew the inside of my mouth debating the cost/benefit of taking a bite of this fresh-out-of-the-ocean fish. On one hand, I’ll impress Aden. That in and of itself is worth the ick factor. But what if I throw up all over his boat? Is the chance of impressing him worth totally humiliating myself? I groan when I realize what I’m doing, exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. I’m making an internal pros and cons list. I close my eyes and steel my resolve and my spine. Don’t think, just decide. I pop open my eyes followed by my mouth.
“Yeah?” He stares at my parted lips.
I nod, hoping he’ll hurry before I change my mind.
Lifting the rose-colored flesh forward, he places it between my teeth. It’s a small bite so I close my lips around his fingers expecting him to pull away…but he doesn’t. For a moment I’m suspended in his gaze, totally stuck while his hot fingers rest between my lips. This should be grossing me out; after all, I watched him gut this fish with his bare hands and to wash off all the blood he merely dipped them into the ocean. But all the thoughts of raw fish and a stranger’s finger do nothing to stave off the warmth blooming in my belly. My tongue pulls the meat deeper into my mouth, brushing against the rough pad of his forefinger. He bites his lip but finally drops his hand.
He watches intently while I chew and swallow.
“How was it?” His voice is low and gruff.
Lost in the heated moment, I barely tasted it. “Good.”
His hand cups the back of my head and he pulls me toward him, stopping just short of our lips touching. “I can’t fucking take this anymore.” His breath is sawing in and out, bursting against my mouth with impatience. “Let me.” It’s a demand, not a question.
A kiss. I don’t need to channel Celia or flip a coin…I know what I want.
I lick my lips and close the slight distance between us.

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New York Times bestselling author JB Salsbury spends her days lost in a world of budding romance and impossible obstacles. Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. Since 2013 she has published six bestselling novels in The Fighting Series and won a RONE Award. JB Salsbury lives with her husband and two kids in Phoenix, Arizona





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Thursday, March 30, 2017

Release Blitz: Checkmate Boxed Set by Kennedy Fox

Title: Checkmate Boxed Set 
Series: Checkmate Duet (Travis & Viola)
Titles Included: Checkmate This is War & Checkmate: This is Love 
Author: Kennedy Fox 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Trope: Enemies to Lovers 
Photographer & Designer: Sara Eirew 
Release Date: April 5, 2017


Travis King is the worst kind of asshole with good looks and enough confidence to last two lifetimes. Viola Fisher is a goodie two shoes know-it-all who prefers fictional love stories over her own. The only thing they have in common is their mutual hatred for each other.

She’s had a secret crush on him since she was ten but Travis has always made it very clear the feelings aren’t mutual. He’s cruel, crass and takes every opportunity to get under Viola’s skin. She’s smart, beautiful, and too good to be true. Hating him is her religion but needing her is his.

Although Viola loathes his very existence, against her better judgment she let him into her bed. Her sexy curves and filthy smart mouth make Travis want her even more and although she’s succumbed to his manwhore ways, she’s determined to not let that change a thing. 

Too bad he has other plans. 

Viola’s always been off-limits, but Travis is determined to keep crossing that line. She can try to push him away, but he always gets what he wants and he’ll do anything to prove he’s done playing games.

Until then, they’ll play by their own rules to see who will win the biggest battle yet—love or hate? Checkmate.

*Recommend for ages 18+ due to sexual content and adult language.* 


     Watching Viola’s cheeks turn bright red gives me a thrill every time. She’s easy to rile up, even easier to embarrass. She pretends to hate me, but let’s be honest, there’s hardly anything about me worth hating. Even when she was just ten years old and we’d just met, I could make her blush without even speaking.
     I work out every chance I get, eat right, and work my ass off both in and out of the gym. When I’m not working out or at my job, I enjoy other types of recreation.
     Currently her name is Rachel and she’s basically salivating at the mouth as she waits for me to give her what she’s begging for.
     I give in, of course.
     I’m a guy after all.
     When we’re both sated and panting next to each other, I clean up and pull my boxer shorts back up. She curls her body around mine and places a quick kiss on my shoulder. “Are you kicking me out now?” I look over my shoulder and give her a sympathetic grin. “Sorry, babe. No sleepovers.”
     That’s not entirely a rule set in stone, but I prefer to sleep alone. Especially if there’s no chance of morning sex the next day. I get up at five a.m. and head to the gym before I have to be to work at eight.
     “All right.” She gets up and searches for her clothes. Once she’s dressed, she grabs her purse and walks over for a goodbye kiss. “Call me later.”
     “Sure.” I escort her out of the house and kiss her once more before shutting the door. I spin around and nearly run over Viola as she passes in the hall.
     “Aw…another victim released. How sweet of you.”
     “They aren’t victims if they’re willing,” I retort matter-of-factly.
     “Well, they’re airheads if they are.” She continues walking to the kitchen and reluctantly I follow.
     “You sure sound pretty envious.”
     “It’s not. It’s pity. There’s a difference.” She opens the fridge and reaches for a bottle of water.
     “Trust me…she’s not feeling any amount of pity right about now.” I lean up against the doorframe and watch her take a long drink.
     “If not pity, then definitely regret. Or perhaps she’s wondering where the nearest clinic is so she can get tested.” She takes another pull of her water and ignores my glare.
     “Just because a woman likes sex, doesn’t make her an airhead. But you wouldn’t know that would you? Not when you keep your V-card hostage like it’s a million-dollar diamond.”
     “For the hundredth time, I’m not a virgin!” she retorts sharply. “Just because I don’t spread my legs as much as a gymnast, doesn’t mean I’m a prude.”
      “Well it sure as hell doesn’t make you a delight.”
     She tosses the bottle out and steps toward me, shoving her shoulder against me as she walks past. “Knowing how to use your dick doesn’t make you a god, Travis.”
     I spin around and face her as she walks away. “You speak as if you know from experience.”
     “Trust me. The walls are thin. The entire neighborhood knows from experience,” she calls over her shoulder.
     “So are you saying I should be sorry for knowing how to use my dick?”
     She freezes and turns toward me. “No, you should be sorry for anyone that falls for your shit that gets them into your bed in the first place.” She presses her lips together in a fake smile and walks down the hall and back to where Drew is still playing his game.
     I don’t know what her problem is, but I’m determined to find out.

 It’s already ten o’clock, and I have a long day at the office tomorrow, but I can’t get Viola off my mind long enough to fall asleep.
     This never happens by the way.
     Okay, well, maybe it does. Only when she gets under my skin, which happens to be all the damn time.
     But you can’t blame me. She’s always perfect and proper, never wrong and always knows the answer to everything. She’s that annoying smart kid in class that always fucks up the grading curve for everyone else. The one that wears modest clothes but somehow always ends up looking sexy as fuck.
     On the outside, Viola Fisher is the poster child of innocence and purity. But I know better.
     Viola Fisher has tattoos and a right hook that could make any grown man cry.


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About the Author

 A secret duo of romance authors team up under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox who share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Release Blitz: CRAZY FOR YOU by Rachel Lacey


Author: Rachel Lacey
Series: Risking It All, #2
On Sale: March 28, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $6.99 USD

The second book in Rachel Lacey's irresistible contemporary romance series about three foster brothers who return to their hometown to open an extreme sports business, perfect for fans of Kristan Higgins, Rachel Gibson, and Jill Shalvis!


Emma Rush can't remember a time when she didn't have a thing for Ryan Blake. Haven's resident bad boy is just so freakin' hot-with tattoos, a motorcycle, and enough rough-around-the-edges sexiness to melt all her self-control. Now that Emma's over being a "good girl," she needs a little help being naughty . . . and she knows just where to start.

Before Emma's brother enlisted in the military, he made Ryan promise that he would protect her from everything--including himself. When her brother doesn't come home, Ryan needs to turn his screwed-up life around to honor his pledge. But he knows he's still not the right kind of guy for someone as sweet as Emma. Only he can't stop wanting to be with her. Wanting her. Falling in love with a good girl may be the craziest risk this bad boy can take . . 

Excerpt: Ryan Blake held a bottle of Maker’s 46 in his right hand, a tumbler in his left. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the bottle. It flipped once before landing back in his grip, top down, ready to pour. He filled the tumbler, set a napkin on
the bar, and placed it in front of the brunette on the other side. “Bourbon, neat.”
“You’re good.” She picked up the glass and tipped it in his direction. “Not what I was expecting in this little bar in the middle of nowhere.”
“I try,” he said with the friendly, semi-flirtatious smile he always used on single ladies seated at his bar. She wasn’t wrong. The usual clientele at The Drunken Bear had little use for fancy liquor or bartending tricks, but the trio in front of him were tourists looking for a good time, and he’d see that they had one.
“You were just about to tell me about this tattoo.” She placed her hand on his biceps, fingering the eagle he’d had inked there after he flew this coop ten years ago.
“That’s right.” He shifted backward so that her hand slipped to the countertop. He encouraged flirting—it led to better tips and made the night more interesting—but this chick was getting a bit too friendly, considering the diamond band on her left ring finger. “This one was for spreading my wings. Thought I’d fly far away, and yet, here I am back in Haven.”
“You’re from here then?” one of the other women asked, shamelessly ogling the tattoos on his arms while giving him an eyeful of cleavage.
“Born and raised. Moved around a lot, but I can’t seem to shake this place. It’s in my blood.” Once upon a time, he’d been hell bent on getting as far away from this sleepy North Carolina mountain town as possible. Spent the better part of a decade drifting from place to place, taking with him only what he could carry on his bike. Funny how things came full circle. He picked up an empty pilsner glass another patron had left behind.
He turned at the familiar voice to find Emma Rush stand- ing there, one hip propped against the bar, and he damn near dropped the glass. Emma’s trademark ponytail and jog- ging pants were nowhere in sight. Tonight, her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders in shiny waves, her blue eyes sparkled at him from behind a tasteful—yet sexy—amount of makeup, and her red top was tucked into a pair of jeans that fit her like a glove. He swallowed past the sudden dry- ness in his throat. “Hey, Em. What brings you out tonight?” “Girls’ night,” she said with a smile, gesturing to her friend Mandy, who stood by the door talking on her cell phone. Emma slid onto an empty barstool. “I wasn’t expect-
ing to see you.”
“I’m still here a few nights a week.” His new business
venture—Off-the-Grid Adventures, an extreme outdoor sporting facility he’d opened with his good buddies Ethan Hunter and Mark Dalton six months ago—was finally bring- ing in enough income that he soon wouldn’t need to bartend to pay his rent. “What can I get you?”
“Untapped amber ale, please.” She watched while he filled a frosted mug. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
She lifted the mug to her lips and took a long drink. “Damn, that’s good,” she said with a happy sigh, setting it on the bar.
“Always been more of a pilsner guy myself.” He tried not to stare as she licked froth from her upper lip.
“Hi, Ryan.” Mandy stepped up to the bar beside Emma. He leaned back, tearing his gaze from Emma’s lips. “Hi.”
Emma turned to her friend with a smile. “Ready to get a table?”
“Yep,” Mandy said. “Have fun, ladies.”
“We will.” With a wave, Emma walked off after her friend, and damn, those jeans cupped her ass like perfection. No doubt about it, Emma looked hot tonight. And his thoughts were way out of line. He’d promised Derek he’d look out for his little sister, not drool all over her.
“Your girlfriend?” the brunette at the bar asked, eyebrows raised as she sipped her bourbon.
Ryan cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from Emma. “Just a friend.”
“Mm-hmm.” The brunette gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him.
He turned to check on his patrons at the other end of the bar, but his attention was once again diverted by Emma— or rather, the preppy-looking businessman she was talking to now. Ryan couldn’t make out their conversation, but the guy wore an irritatingly smug smile, and Emma didn’t look at all happy to have bumped into him.
Ryan moved down the bar, chatting and pouring drinks as he went, all the while keeping an eye on Emma. She was deep in conversation with the businessman, although the guy seemed to be doing most of the talking. Emma smiled and nodded. She glanced up and met Ryan’s gaze, rolling her eyes at him with a smile while her companion kept on talk- ing.
Next thing Ryan knew, the guy had slung an arm around her shoulders, gesturing wildly with his free hand while Emma subtly edged away from him.
Ryan was around the bar and across the room before he’d even realized what he was doing. “Everything okay over here?”
Emma shrugged out from under the guy’s arm, but her smile wasn’t nearly as warm or genuine as the one she’d given Ryan a few moments ago. “Yep.”
“We’re fine,” Obnoxious Dude answered. “Who are you?”
“Ryan Blake. And you are?” “Tristan Farrell.”
“Tristan and I are . . . old friends,” Emma said.
By old friends, Ryan assumed she meant former flames. And since she clearly wasn’t enjoying his company, it was time for Tristan to leave. Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down, waiting for the loser to get the message. It didn’t take long.
Tristan backed up, his eyes darting toward the front door. “Well, it was great seeing you, Emma. Take care.”
“You, too.” She watched as Tristan left the bar then turned to Ryan. “Forgot how much I dislike that guy.”
“He hassling you?”
Her eyes rounded. “No! Just talking my ear off, really.
Sorry to distract you from your duties at the bar.”
“No problem.” Keeping an eye on his patrons was part of the job, although he was probably feeling more protective of Emma right now than the situation called for.
“Right, well . . . looks like my table is ready.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked away.
Ryan headed back behind the bar, turning his attention to the trio of tourists and their mostly empty cocktails. “Any of you ladies ready for a fresh drink?”
As it turned out, they all were. While he mixed their cock- tails, he allowed his gaze to roam over to Emma’s table. She was deep in conversation with her friends Gabby, Carly, and Mandy, all of whom he knew, none of whom made his gut tighten the way it did every time he looked at Emma tonight.
He had no idea where this had come from, but he had to get over it, pronto. Emma wasn’t interested in a player like him, and even if she were, she was off limits. He’d made a promise to her brother when Derek went off to war, and Ryan had no intention of breaking it.



Rachel Lacey is a contemporary romance author and semi-reformed travel junkie. She's been climbed by a monkey on a mountain in Japan, gone scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef, and camped out overnight in New York City for a chance to be an extra in a movie. These days, the majority of her adventures take place on the pages of the books she writes. She lives in warm and sunny North Carolina with her husband, son, and a variety of rescue pets.


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Release Blitz: HOLDING FIRE by April Hunt


Author: April Hunt
Series: Alpha Security, #2
On Sale: March 28, 2017
Publisher: Forever 
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD

The second book in April Hunt's romantic suspense series, perfect for fans of Julie Ann Walker, Lora Leigh, and Rebecca Zanetti.

Alpha Security operative Trey Hanson is ready to settle down. When he meets a gorgeous blonde in a bar, and the connection between them is off the charts, he thinks he's finally found the one. But after their night together ends in a hail of gunfire and she disappears in the chaos, Trey's reasons for tracking her down are personal . . . until he learns she's his next assignment.

Elle Monroe never expected to see Trey again. The night they shared was incredible, but the last thing she's looking for is a relationship. Now that it's clear she's being targeted, though, she has no choice but to trust this man she barely knows with her life. And Trey's not just determined to keep her safe . . . he's determined to win her heart.


Elle stared, transfixed by the clock behind the airport’s claims counter. Each snap of the second-hand took about five years off her life. Being a few weeks shy of her thirtieth birthday, she estimated she had roughly ten-and-a-half seconds until the coroner needed to be called. Twelve, max, with a little bit of luck, but her luck seemed to be in short supply. 
Her normal patience was at an all-time low, sucked into a black hole right along with her personal hygiene and her luggage. Twenty total hours in a plane, plus an unscheduled six-hour stop for mechanical repairs, was to blame for the first. The latter two were entirely the fault of the airline.
With a deep sigh, Elle looked around the large, open space. People milled through the airport, bulky suitcases bouncing behind them as they scrambled to their destinations, while others procured blankets and pillows and looked to be settling in for the duration of the night.
On her left, two children tackled the legs of a tall, slender soldier dressed in desert fatigues. Laughing, the woman bent, spreading kisses over every surface of their little cheeks.
Elle ignored the faint ache in her chest and watched the happy family walk away. As they disappeared around the corner, a new sensation whittled its way in—a tingle; the one she’d felt the instant she and Shay unloaded from the gate—the one that came with the ardent focus of someone’s attention. It took root in the pit of her stomach and didn’t let go.
When she’d sensed it earlier, she blamed the paranoia on lack of sleep and inhumane travel hours. But the prickle of awareness came back tenfold, turning her head until she noticed the man leaning against the far wall, reading a newspaper.
Elle did a double take. It wasn’t Trey. It couldn’t be. She’d left him back in Thailand without so much as her last name, much less her travel itinerary, yet the longer she stared at stranger across the room, the faster her heart galloped. 
Worn blue jeans encased his thighs perfectly. Not tight. Not baggy. No doubt if he turned around, the rear would look as impressive as the front. Both his face and his hair were disappointedly half-hidden by a baseball cap and sunglasses, but he had the same strongly chiseled jaw and sexy blond scruff that made her want to throw every razor known to man straight into the garbage.
Though he never looked away from his paper, the wall lounger’s lips twitched, almost as if sensing her visual appraisal. That smirk. Those lips. The stretch of a long-sleeved T over a chest wide enough to land an airplane on. Elle nearly collapsed into an X-rated memory of how lips nearly identical to those of this stranger had pleasurably ripped away all her sensibilities only a scant few days ago.
Standing in the middle of a busy airport definitely wasn’t the time to relive her night with Trey. When her turn came up at the counter, she gave herself a mental slap and focused on giving the attendant the information the airline needed to reconnect her with her suitcase. And then with a Have a nice day and her single carry-on, Elle shuffled away to wait for Shay to finish in the bathroom.
She searched her purse for her cell phone and bounced off the chest of another traveler.
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” She reflexively reached out to steady to victim.
Shut it,” a low voice snarled.
Oh, hell no. Exhaustion mixed with an insane need to shower off the last day and a half made her head swivel to Mr. Attitude. She looked up. And up. Whoa. He was ridiculously tall.
If she’d had a little bit more sleep she’d probably be able to talk herself out of confronting someone so freaking huge, but she’d had a middle seat, and both Shay and the man to her left had been armrest hogs. Elle was eight hours past polite.
She narrowed her eyes, wishing her glare would make him squirm. “It was an accident. I said I was sorry. There’s no need to be a jerk about it.”
“Actually, there is.” Mr. Attitude clamped a hand around her upper arm and squeezed.
Ow. Hey, watch it!” She tugged, and he tightened his hold.
He leaned his large body way past her personal boundaries. That was when she saw the scar, half-hidden behind his sunglasses. It looked angrier up close, the skin around his eye socket puckered straight up to his hairline. Cold dread licked up Elle’s spine.
It was Alley Man.
“I told you to shut. The fuck. Up.” He emphasized each word and punctuated it with a sharp jab to her ribs. When she attempted to twist away, the poke came again—this time with the cool sensation of metal.
A gun.
Alley Man stepped closer, careful to keep it hidden from view. “If you so much as twitch, sputter, or look at anyone cross-eyed, I won’t hesitate to make this very bad for you. Do you fucking understand me?”
Elle re-swallowed the bile that had risen to her throat. “I should probably warn you that I don’t have any money. Well, I have about ten dollars’ worth of Thai baht, but that’s about it. And maybe a fuzzy breath mint.”
Tightening his grip, he steered them away from anyone who would remotely care what was happening. And let’s face it: This was one of the busiest airports in the country. No one was going to notice one travel-ravaged blonde, even if she stripped down to her cotton undies and streaked half naked through the terminal.
Alley Man kept the gun pressed firmly between her ribs as he directed them to the exit. “I don’t want your money, Miss Monroe.”
Elle’s heart went from a steady thunder to an apocalyptic roar. He knew her name. He knew she’d be at this airport. On this day. On this flight.
The only thing Elle knew was that she was really—and completely—screwed.





April blames her incurable chocolate addiction on growing up in rural Pennsylvania, way too close to America's chocolate capital, Hershey. She now lives in Virginia with her college sweetheart husband, two young children, and a cat who thinks she's a human-dog hybrid. On those rare occasions she's not donning the cape of her children's personal chauffer, April's either planning, plotting, or writing about her next alpha hero and the woman he never knew he needed, but now can't live without.