Monday, December 31, 2018

Pure Textuality PR:Winter Fire by Richard Amos

Out of the frying pan, into the damn inferno!

Who is the white eye guy? How can Jake Winter save the city of Coldharbour from its curse? So many questions, yet still no answers. And then there is the whole complication with Dean…

Evil is rising…

Lilisian, the beast Supreme, is free. Worst luck! Jake Winter and his friends are desperate to stop her, but she hasn’t been seen since her last brief appearance. All over the city ritual sacrifices are taking place, praising her name, her followers waiting for her to fully rise to her true power.

The clock is ticking…

Jake has to kill Lilisian. There’s no two ways about it. If she is restored to her deadly glory, she’ll be a threat like no other beast he has faced yet. But life is always far from easy. Lilisian has a pet that she has just let off the leash…

When a dragon takes to the skies of Coldharbour, Jake will need to summon all his strength before everything he is trying to protect goes down in flames…

A dark urban fantasy tale with kick-ass action and slow-burn m/m romance.

About the Book

Winter Fireby Richard Amos

Coldharbour Chronicles Book Three

Urban Fantasy
M/M Romance


Publication Date
December 7, 2018

Purchase Your Copy Today!Amazon  |  The Coldharbour Chronicles on Amazon

+Add To Your TBR Pile!


“What the hell was that?” I yelped.

“My fucking car!” Greg boomed.

Yeah, maybe he should start using old bangers for patrols.

A deep keening came from the dark road, my sparks spitting in reaction to the horrible, mournful sound. Through the messed-up windscreen, I could see something pale moving in the dark.

I opened my door, my friends doing the same.

“Okay,” Nay drawled. “This is a new one.”

The first thing I noticed about the white creature was the pear shape of its body—small head and upper region, a swollen lower region. Its arms were tiny, like a T-Rex, and the paleness of its skin was as white as freshly fallen snow.

The creature howled in despair.

The second thing I noticed, which I couldn’t quite believe, were the coal eyes, the carrot nose, and the black blobs down its front in a straight line that looked like buttons.

“I’m asleep, right?” I said.

“That can’t be a carrot,” Greg added.

What differentiated this beast from being a cute snowman on the front lawn was the wide mouth that almost split its small head in half. There were no lips, just lines of black and rows of black shards ready to rip flesh from bone.

And it had legs—two kangaroo-looking pins.

I sighed. “I’m so not in the bloody mood for this.”

Nay had her phone up, quickly scanning the beast into the app she’d created regarding beast knowledge.

The beast whined, taking some steps back.

I approached.

“Careful,” Greg said, jutting a muscular arm out to halt me. “Don’t ever get sucked into the scaredy-cat crap, mate.”

There were no amber ribbons of light to see around the snowman—an indication of beast fear to my eyes.

Another howl of sorrow.

“That’s not snow,” Dean said. “Can you smell that?”

“What?” I wondered.


I sniffed deep. There, on the cold air, I could smell the sweet scent of funeral homes. “I hate lilies.”

“Me too.”

The snowman howled once more and pounced. Bloody hell! It went high on those bouncy legs. It came crashing down on the Mercedes, caving in the roof.

Greg roared and threw himself at the snowman. His fist met solidity, the side of the beast cracking ever so slightly under the power of his punch. With swiftness I wasn’t expecting, the beast kicked Greg in the chest and sent him sprawling on the asphalt.

It leapt into the air, aiming its body right for me. Crap. I rolled in time to avoid the crushing of my bones.

Nay threw a potion vial. It exploded into a green fire, spiraling around the freaky creature, but failing to do anything. The snowman jumped into a dropkick. Nay was quick to avoid a hit … just.

Greg was fuming, thankfully unhurt for now. He’d feel it when the rage cooled down.

“Get on Dean’s shoulders!” Nay called.


Dean’s head was between my legs, and I was lifted into the air. He held me by the thighs, and my dick throbbed inappropriately at the firmness of his grip.

The snowman was bouncing after Greg, who was calling it every name under the sun as he swung punches and avoided getting kicked again.

Nay ran to me and Dean. “Ready?”

I swallowed. “For what?”

“Dean’s gonna throw you.”

“I am?” Dean said.

“I thought we were on the same page seeing you’re between his legs.”

I blushed.

“Didn’t want to debate it,” Dean replied. “I just did it.”

God! Could he feel my boner on the back of his head? I wanted to get down.

You mean go down!

Stupid inner voice! This was not the time for this bollocks.

“Throw him, and I’ll aim him for the head,” Nay said.

“Oh, my God!”

Dean squeezed my thighs a little tighter.

“I’ve got a spell that should work.”

Greg got in a nice smack to the beast’s solid belly, a fracture line appearing across the white. The snowman howled and bounced away some feet, hopping from foot to foot once it was back on the ground.

“Should?” Dean said.

“We have one shot at this,” Nay answered. “While Greg’s pissing it off.”

Oh, shit.

“You ready, Jake?” Dean asked.

No. “Y-yes.”

“Get those hands ready,” Nay said. “You’re gonna have to work fast.”

“If I miss?”


Dean straightened and started to walk toward the beast.

“You fuck with my car, I fuck you up!” Greg roared. “Come on! Let’s be having ya!”

“In three,” Nay said, “charge and throw.”

Bloody hell! My lips were dry, my stomach doing loops. I could barely hear her counting or feel the speed of Dean’s charge.

Before I could blink, I was flying through the air at the snowman beast made of marble, magic tickling at my belly from Nay’s spell. If I missed, I’d smash my teeth out, break my nose and basically be a mess on the floor and then be kicked away or stomped on, a mushy mess of—

My hands were on the snowman’s head. Another part of me, the non-neurotic quarter—a.k.a. wannabe bad-arse—had taken over.

The terrible keening rang in my ears before the silence engulfed me in the place of beast essence.

Killing touch delivered, I enjoyed the sensation of feeding and did my best to hide the raging boner in my jeans. What with Dean having been in close proximity, and the fact that killing beasts made me inexplicably horny, it was straining to escape the confines of denim.

You can stay where you bloody well are! I told it.

Once my composure was restored to a degree of normality, I took in the scene. Greg’s car was completely written off. No way were we going home in the comfy, new Mercedes.

Greg was raging. He ripped off a wing mirror and smashed it on the road, proceeding to do the same to the other one.

“Thanks, Karla,” Nay said into her phone and hung up. “Mr. Douglas is coming to pick us up.”

“Motherfuckingbullshithellbollocks!” Greg boomed.

“Nice work, you two,” Nay said.

I didn’t realize Dean was standing next to me. I turned to look at him to find he was staring right at me.

I offered him a smile, and he averted his gaze.

My shoulders sagged. A good old curl-up under the duvet, with the world being shut away, was just what I needed.

And a cold shower.

Purchase Your Copy Today!Amazon  |  The Coldharbour Chronicles on Amazon

About Richard Amos

RICHARD AMOS is an author from England who is constantly lost in the worlds he writes about, and the ones in the queue yet to be written. He also has more books in his house than anything else, and is never without a book (and chocolate) in his hands when he’s not writing. He’s a proud nerd who loves to dance. Hard. Richard writes kick-ass Urban Fantasy with gay male protagonists, all with good doses of action, adventure and m/m romance. He also writes High Fantasy.

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Sunday, December 30, 2018

Two Stone Brothers for Tessie (Love in Stone Valley #1) by Sam Crescent

Heat Rating

September 2014
Siren Publishing
Pages 182

Two Stone Brothers for Tessie starts out entertaining and I made it through the first few chapters pretty engrossed in the story even with the speed bumps known as misspelled or missing words (Sam Crescents signature editing issues). Then I hit page 68 and realized I was kind of bored of the story line and hoping it would pick up soon. The worse part of the location of my boredom was it was heading into a bedroom scene, which in Sam’s stories are never boring until now. I am hoping that it is just menopause frying my brain cells instead it being the story itself.

I really like the little town of Stone Valley that Sam Crescent created and I really like the way she wrote about Markus’ dyslexia. Yes, he has dyslexia and his made some aspects of his life a challenge but was not who he is, in other words he was not his disability even as it does still bother him but you only really see that once in the story and I really wanted to kick his little brother’s ass for his dick headed low blow. I also liked how Tessie handled both brothers and their attitudes, she certainly wasn’t shy about calling a spade a spade. As for the other towns people in town, they were equally quirky and amusing and I hope to see more of them in the next book in the series.

Despite the need for better editing and the boring spot in the book the town of Stone Valley was a nice place to visit for the time it took to read the story.

I had to quotes picked out but with how prudish Google, Tumblr and many other sites are getting I decided I really didn’t want to get censored but I am sure you would have liked the other quote as well.

“Good. My face and cock were protected last night,”—Brant

Book Cover Rating
I had to go back and find the characters descriptions before writing this part. The male models do look age appropriate so in that regard they match the story. The female model does seem to have the right body type she looks much older that the young waitress described in the story. This leaves me feeling like a three-star rating is reasonable fair. The publisher could do better in the cover department.

Book Blurb Rating

Book's Blurb
[Menage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Menage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, sex toys, HEA]

Tessie Holland has dealt with some loss in the last five years. Her father is dead and she had to move out of her family ranch with her mother. She works at the local diner as a waitress to help pay the bills. The only highlights in her life are the mystery packages that are left on her doorstep. Who could be sending her these gifts?

Markus and Brant Stone have been in love with Tessie for a long time. They never want to see her without and have made sure she gets everything she wants by leaving her gifts, anonymously. However, they cannot wait anymore. They intend to tell her the truth and to claim her as their woman.

When the Stone brothers try and buy back Tessie's home ranch they stumble upon some distressing revelations. Soon they are diving into something that neither brother can protect her from.

It's a race against time to protect Tessie from the truth and to also protect her from the man who wants to end it.

** A Siren Erotic Romance

Purchase Links

Other Reviews
Alpha Bully (The Alpha Shifter Collection #5) by Sam Crescent
Blackmailed by the Beast (Unlikely Love #1) by Sam Crescent
Trapped Between Two Alphas by Sam Crescent
Payne (The Soldiers of Wrath: Grit Chapter #3) by Jenika Snow & Sam Crescent
Billionaire Husband by Sam Crescent
Baker (The Skulls #14) by Sam Crescent
Her Prince Charming by Sam Crescent

Saturday, December 29, 2018

Pure Textuality PR: Dare to Love a Duke by Eva Leigh

About the Book

Dare to Love a Duke 
by Eva Leigh
The London Underground
Historical Romance
Avon Books
Publication Date
December 24, 2018

Purchase Your Copy Today!
Amazon  |  Avon Romance  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Google Play  |  iBooks

For a dashing duke and the proprietress of a secret, sensual club in the London Underground, passion could lead to love… if they dare.

Thomas Powell, the new Duke of Northfield, knows he should be proper and principled, like his father. No more dueling, or carousing, or frequenting masked parties where Londoners indulge their wildest desires. But he’s not ready to give up his freedom just yet. The club is an escape, a place where he can forget about society and the weight of his title… and see her, the woman he’s wanted forever.

Lucia—known as Amina—manages the Orchid Club, a secret society where fantasies become reality. But for Lucia, it’s strictly business, profitable enough to finance her dream: a home for the lost girls of the streets. Surrounded by lovers, she only observes, unwilling risk her future for any man. No member has ever intrigued her…until him, the masked stranger whose heated looks sear her skin. After months of suppressed longing, they dare to give in to temptation…  

But the late duke’s legacy comes with a shocking secret, and the scandal threatens to destroy everything Tom loves… his family, the Orchid Club, and even Lucia.


She sensed someone’s gaze on her like a velvet glove stroking down the back of her neck.

Lucia looked around to find the source of the sensation. Her breath stuttered and her pulse came in a
quick flutter when she saw its origin.

A rangy, dark-haired man in a blue mask strode purposefully toward her. He moved with fluid, masculine
grace, his body muscular and strapping. The direct way he approached captivated her—as though nothing could keep him from being near her.

Lucia’s pulse leapt again. She shook her head, trying to dismiss her reaction to the guest’s approach. Clients often turned their interests toward her. Yet there was a palpable sensuality to the way he walked and the interest in his gaze. It held frank erotic intent, and the confidence that he could give her extraordinary pleasure.

Even at a distance, his eyes said, I. Want. You.

About Eva Leigh

EVA LEIGH is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated romance author who writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She enjoys baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the ‘80s. Eva and her husband live in Central California.
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon

Friday, December 28, 2018

Enticing Journey Book Promotions Cover Reveal: Last Call by Kim Deister

Title: Last Call
Author: Kim Deister
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 17, 2019

When Sparrow Greenlee meets Nix Burkholder, it is definitely not love at first sight. It doesn't matter how chiseled his jaw is, how his shirt stretches over his pecs, how great he looks in a hockey uniform. The man has an attitude that makes her want to scream and send a slapshot into his pads. The only redeeming thing about him is his daughter, Harley, a spunky six-year-old with only one thing on her mind... to find her daddy a girlfriend. And she has set her eyes on Sparrow.

I was born and raised in a tiny town in the wilds of northern New York, a pretty, little college town called Potsdam. I grew up in a family of lawyers and teachers and bucked all the traditions. Before becoming a writer, I spent a lot of years wearing combat boots in the US Army. I spent most of my time in boots working as a Signals Intelligence Analyst (no jokes!) and a linguist. I also worked as a tech writer, an entirely different kind of writing, for Corning Glass Works. Now, I’m an Army wife and a mom to four sons.  Over the years, our Army life has taken us all over the place and I have been lucky enough to work and live in some pretty amazing places.  Now we live in Hawaii, just minutes from the beach!

I am a writer thoroughly in love with words. Reading them, writing them... I love that words can take you outside of your world and let the unimaginable become imaginable. When I’m not writing or lounging on the beach, I’m probably somewhere with my nose in a book.


Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Pure Textuality PR: The Nashville Bet by Shana Gray

About the Book

The Nashville Bet
by Shana Gray
Girls Weekend Away
Contemporary Romance
Entangled Amara
Publication Date
December 18, 2018

Purchase Your Copy Today!

The romantic…
When her boss offers her free tickets to the CMA Fest, Ava Trent jumps at the chance for a weekend in Nashville with her best girlfriends. Great music and new opportunities to look for Mr Right? What more could a former country girl ask for? Well, maybe not to literally fall at the feet of the hottest guy she’s ever seen.

And the superstar singer…
After becoming an overnight success, fame doesn’t rest easy on Chase Hudson’s shoulders. It’s hard to tell who’s interested in him and who’s interested in the star. So when he and Ava collide, and she has no idea who he is, he’s immediately intrigued. Something about Ava calls to him – even though he’s convinced she’s a city-type who couldn’t handle his Nashville life.

Are about to get their country on.
What starts as a light-hearted bet to test one another, becomes something much deeper as Ava and Chase can’t stay away from one another. But with so many differences between their lives, will they win the relationship they’ve been dreaming of? Or lose each other?


Copyright © 2018 by Shana Gray. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Chapter One

The plane began descending and Ava wriggled a little with excitement in her seat, earning a strange look from the college kid next to her. Most travelers preferred the aisle seat so that they could get out easily, but not Ava. She loved to see where she was going, all the new possibilities and adventures that were awaiting her. This particular trip was going to be off-the-charts fun! Nashville and CMA Fest had been on her bucket list for a while. There would be multiple stages, many different performers and all the country music she could ever want!
Flight attendants did another pass of the aisles and she handed over her soda can to be recycled. Had to do her bit to save planet Earth! The plane twitched in the sky with a bit of turbulence and Ava gripped her knees. She loved to fly because it took her places, but she preferred the skies to be calm. Otherwise, she got a little nervous and every noise the plane made was the sound of impending doom. She gazed out the window, taking deep breaths to calm herself, and thought of her friends, the sisters of her heart, her college buddies.
Everything had been rather last minute. Her boss, David, had booked a kick-ass suite for CMA Fest at Nissan Stadium, but a sudden family emergency meant he couldn’t go. He offered the suite to Ava and told her that he’d finagle extra tickets for her friends as a thank-you for her work on their latest project. Ava had been all over that and her friends had jumped at the chance to watch amazing country acts in luxurious—and air-conditioned—comfort. Ava loved all music, and Celia, Bonni and Fredi also loved country music so Ava had no doubt this trip was going to be a blast.
Celia and Bonni had taken over planning the itinerary. It made her friends happy to be in control of things so, since it didn’t matter as much to her, Ava was fine going along with the flow. Tonight they were killing two birds with one stone by going line dancing and meeting up with the guy with the extra tickets. He was a friend of a friend of David’s who apparently lived in the area. It was going to be a whirlwind trip, really. The CMA Fest ran until Saturday with three days of concerts in many different locations. Ava knew they wouldn’t be able to see all of them, but it sure was going to be fun!
Bonni had made noises about “Why can’t this guy just leave us the tickets at the hotel?” but Ava didn’t mind. She knew everything would work itself out. Besides, she had his contact info just in case something went awry.
The plane leveled out as it continued its descent. The sun was low in the sky and Ava saw shards of its golden light glinting off miniature-looking buildings through the window. Seeing Nashville on the horizon filled her with a powerful sense of “coming home.” Ava had happily grown up country in a small farming town out in the Midwest, but college, and her friends, had shown her a bigger world. There was so much to see, to explore. She still went home for holidays, though, but that time was spent catching up with her family and finding out the latest news, not going to the nearest honky-tonk and cutting loose. She was looking forward to reconnecting with her roots.
As a child, Ava had sat in her grandfather’s workshop while he puttered about doing some woodwork and old-school country music played through tinny speakers, accompanied by the sound of sandpaper against wood. She couldn’t hear Patsy Cline without thinking of him. Ava still preferred the big female country artists like Carrie Underwood, Shania Twain, Miranda Lambert and Faith Hill. There was no denying, though, that country music was still dominated by the boys. Many of the so-called “bro-country” songs didn’t appeal to her at all.
The college kid leaned forward to push his backpack more securely underneath the seat in front of him. When he sat back, his legs spread wide, and Ava moved closer to the plane’s wall to avoid touching him. She was sure he didn’t mean to manspread, and they were almost on the ground so it wasn’t worth the awkward conversation to ask him to move back into his space. Still, this was just another sign that there were no more considerate gentlemen left.
Bonni and Celia had found their happily ever after on previous trips. That left just her and Fredi to find theirs. Ava had gradually become so disappointed in the male species over the years it had been hard not to just give up on finding her true love. But no. Those were quitter thoughts and she refused to let go of her dreams. Ava would never, ever let herself think otherwise. She knew the man of her dreams was out there. One day, somewhere, somehow, she would find him. Now, if that wasn’t a country song in the making, she didn’t know what was.
Country music was all about storytelling, and telling love stories was one of its favorite things to do. Whether it was swearing to always love someone, feeling a slow and steady rush or celebrating still going strong, there was a song for every feeling, every situation. Country music had such a strong romantic flare and Ava loved the heartbreaking tales. She was a sucker for them, even though she invariably cried. And Nashville! It was the heart and soul of country music.
Ava squinted and looked at the city below. Not long now until touchdown. She was meeting Fredi on the curb outside Baggage Claim, since it was the easiest point of connection without Fredi having to park. Her friend was driving up from Florida, saying she needed the time away from her job as a wedding-dress designer.
“Endless hours in the car is my peace,” she’d insisted.
Out of the four of them, she and Fredi were the most opposite. Ava chose to give people the benefit of the doubt and to see the good in them, while Fredi took a more cynical view of life. Ava sighed and sat back in the seat, letting the sun bathe across her face. The plane banked sharply, the light turning to shade, and she heard the wheels come down. Touchdown was easy, the taxi to the gate uneventful, and disembarking the plane was the typical shuffle down the aisle.
She pulled her phone out of her purse, went to the group chat with her friends and typed, Nashville, I am in you. Then she skirted a family who had stopped at the end of the jetway, trying to organize their screaming kids.
Ava’s long legs took her swiftly through the crowd that was dawdling along. She had on sneakers instead of her preferred heels so she could fly through the crowd easily, teamed with flattering skinny jeans and a butter-cream-yellow blouse. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, wishing she’d tied its thick auburn mass up into a bun. Her skin felt coated with sweat and grime and she was eager to shower to get the airplane cooties off her once they arrived at the hotel.
Ava was a bit of a clean freak. No, she wasn’t a germaphobe, but she did her best to avoid any while using public transportation. A flight attendant had told her once to always wipe down her seat and tray-table before departure and she had taken the advice to heart ever since. More than once she’d gotten sick after flying, and the last thing she wanted was to come down with airplane crud while on this trip.
In addition to her purse, all she had packed was a carry-on so, after weaving through the crowd, she waited patiently by a pillar near the doors to the kiss-and-fly pick-up. Her phone buzzed and she read the message. Fredi was just driving into Arrivals.
Ava rushed outside and watched for her. She looked over the heads of the people standing around her and smiled when a candy-apple-red Volkswagen Beetle zipped around the other cars and into the Arrivals area.
Ava raised her hand and stepped off the curb. Fredi screeched to a halt, the sound echoing off the walls. The back hatch popped up and Ava fired in her carry-on, slammed the hatch shut and climbed into the front seat.
“Ava! It’s so good to see you, girl,” Fredi greeted her while looking in the rear-view and side mirrors, waiting for a break before bursting back into the traffic, blaring the horn.
“Thanks so much for picking me up. It sure beats taking a taxi to the hotel.” Ava settled in the seat and put her huge satchel, which carried everything she could possibly need, between her knees on the floor.
“You know it’s no problem.” She put on the turn signal and instructed Ava, “Hang on to your hat! This place is a zoo, and I want to get out of here.”
Fredi pulled a Mario Andretti, quickly cutting out from between a couple of cars, around a pole that reminded you to watch for pedestrian traffic, and then they were shooting out the other end and away from the airport.
“One day, Fredi—one day—you’re going to get in a crash,” Ava told her as she pushed herself harder into the passenger seat, her feet braced on the floor. This reminded her exactly why she wasn’t a fan of driving with Fredi.
Fredi huffed. “I can’t stand traffic. People are stupid and don’t know how to drive.”
“But you should drive defensively, not aggressively.” Ava hung on to the door handle and gritted her teeth.
“I am driving defensively, and look, it worked! We’re free of airport hell.” Fredi leaned into the steering wheel, gripping with both hands. Her gaze was flashing between the mirrors and the road ahead. Ava wondered why she still held so tightly to the wheel, since they were through the traffic. Then again, Fredi had been just as intense a driver back in college as she appeared to be now, whether stuck bumper to bumper or racing down an interstate.
“No, you weren’t, you were being aggressive. Other people have places to be, too, you know. Like picking up dinner for their family or maybe taking a kid to ballet. We’re not in any hurry, so what does it hurt to be courteous to other drivers?” Ava said earnestly.
“Spare me the sunshiney BS, Ava. I’m the one bringing you to the hotel. Otherwise, you’d been stuck in a germ-filled Uber or a cab.” Fredi cast her a smug glance.
Ava said, “You’re right. Even your crazy driving is better than a taxi. Do you know what time Bonni and Celia are getting in?” Ava closed her eyes when Fredi whooshed around a slow driver. “Careful! You’re going to get a ticket.”
“Won’t! And they could be at the hotel by now, but I’ve got a feeling they’ll be a little bit later. Landon was in Europe somewhere in a meeting that ran late. He went back to Cali so he could watch Celia’s kids, much to her ex’s displeasure, and, can you believe that man? Still causing all that drama about custody and delaying the court case when, clearly, the kids are better off with Celia and Landon. Anyway, then Celia took the jet to get Bonni from Virginia before they flew here. Tough life, huh?” Fredi said, keeping her gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Flying around in the Bryant corporate jet.”
“Well, I don’t think they do it often.” Ava ran her finger along the crease of her jeans, wishing Fredi would be less critical. “But I bet it’s handy being in love with uber-wealthy guys.”
However, personally, Ava didn’t care if her future Mr. Right was a billionaire or a handyman. All she wanted was love, devotion and a future with a man who would treasure her and treat her like a princess. Someone she could pour all her love into. He had to be out there, somewhere, didn’t he?
“Ha, I bet so, too! But not even the luxury of a private jet would entice me to hitch my wagon to a man’s mule. What’s the point in love and marriage? Just a road to disaster,” Fredi replied cynically.
Ava drew in a soft breath and held it; she didn’t believe Fredi’s take on love for a minute. Ava was all about passion, togetherness, love at first sight, being swept off your feet. Fredi designed wedding dresses for a living but was the Romance Scrooge. It was irony in its purest form. Maybe one day Fredi would see the light and open herself up to the universe. Ava let the breath she was holding puff out between her lips and turned to Fredi. “He—the one—has to be out there somewhere, doesn’t he, Fredi? I mean, you see it every day.”
Fredi lifted a finger off the steering wheel, somehow making the small gesture imperious, and Ava paused.
“I have told you guys many times, I don’t believe in happily ever after. Love is just a word—”
“Until two people make it something special!” Ava interrupted her.
“No, I don’t believe that. I see these brides happy and miserable and stressed and everything under the sun. They’re all a hot mess from planning a wedding, and how many of their marriages stick?” Fredi shook her head, making her long curls bounce around her shoulders and down her back. “Not many, I’m afraid. So, nope, it ain’t for this chick.”
Ava fell silent. She thought so differently than Fredi. Love was everything. How could anyone go through life without love?
“Fredi, I want someone to take my wagon. I want a big love. I want to find the man of my dreams.” Ava stared out the window, feeling a surge of sentimentality, and thought about how wonderful it would be to find her soulmate.
“Do you think I don’t know that, hun? If I could make it happen for you, I would, but c’mon, there’s a billion people in the world. Even if soulmates were a real thing, the odds of you finding yours among that many people is completely unrealistic. But maybe it’s like when you purposely go shopping because you need that particular dress. You’ll never find it. But when you’re not looking, boom! there it is.” Ava turned to watch Fredi, thinking about her words.
“You don’t sound overly optimistic.” Ava couldn’t let herself feel low; it would ruin their weekend. “Listen, if—no, when—I find my tall, dark and handsome, I’ll be shouting it from the rooftops.”
“Oh, I know you will. So long as he makes you happy, I’ll be his biggest fan in the world,” Fredi said. Ava felt an inner warmth chasing away her blueness. This is why they had been friends for so long: Fredi’s unshakeable loyalty.
“I know it,” Ava replied. “And I also know that you’ll find your other half one day, too.”
Fredi rolled her eyes, but said congenially, “So what kind of guy are you looking for these days? The kind who looks mighty fine in a three-piece suit?”
Ava closed her eyes and let her dream love conjure up behind her eyelids. “He has dark hair, neatly trimmed, and he’s clean-shaven with bright blue eyes to contrast with his dark hair and eyebrows. He’s well dressed…” Ava hesitated, a bit surprised that the image had begun to fail her.
“Blue or white collar?” Fredi asked her.
“Oh, in the long run, it really doesn’t matter, but I think there’s nothing sexier than a man in a tux or a well-cut business suit.”
“Then why haven’t you found him yet? You work around those tight-ass types all day. You’d think one would catch your attention.”
Ava shook her head. “Nope. They’re all either married, players or gay.”
“Then where do you think you’re going to find your magical man? Maybe you oughta get out of Nowheresville, Iowa, and move to a bigger city to find him.”
“I’ve thought about that. Trust me. But my contract with Edbridge is for another year, minimum. If I leave before then, I owe back the signing bonus, their three per cent matching for the pension and the year-end bonus I’m entitled to. The financials just don’t add up. So I’m staying there for at least another year. Plus, I really like David, he’s a great boss, and if I stay longer, the bonus dollars will go up until—”
“Whoa, okay, I get it, calculator brain. You make my head swim, spouting off numbers like that. You got it all, you know? Beauty and brains. It’ll take a damn unicorn of a man to be worthy of you.”
Ava was stunned. After all these years, since their first meeting in a college class, it was the first time Fredi had ever expressed a sentiment like that. She was touched beyond words. “If you weren’t driving the car, I’d tackle hug you.”
Instead, she reached out and squeezed Fredi’s shoulder. Fredi wasn’t one for showing affection, but she turned and gave Ava a smile. “It’s true. Anyway, there’s probably a load of Nashville suits around, label guys, A&Rs…maybe you’ll find him this weekend.”
“Ha! Wouldn’t that be something? Our previous girls’ weekends were certainly lucky for our friends. But you know what? I think you’re right. As long as I’m looking, I’ll never find it so, as of now, I’m no longer looking!” Ava declared triumphantly. She had tried online dating, going to bars, blind dates—practically everything. Maybe it was time to try not trying. Or something like that.
“Oh my God! I don’t believe that for a second. You not looking for your dream man is like you trying not to breathe. Fat chance.” Fredi flicked on the turn signal and roared down the highway off ramp.
As Ava clutched the door handle again and tried to remember the prayers she had learned long, long ago in Sunday School, she acknowledged that Fredi had a point. When was she ever not looking for love? Her luck in the love department was so, so bad. But this trip would be just the thing to turn her luck around. She just knew it!

Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of THE NASHVILLE BET by Shana Gray, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open internationally. One winner will be chosen to receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Entangled Publishing.  Giveaway ends 12/22/2018 @ 11:59pm EST. Pure Textuality PR will deliver the winning prize. Limit one entry per reader and mailing address. Duplicates will be deleted. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!

About Shana Gray

SHANA GRAY is a hybrid author of contemporary and erotic romances. You can find her works at multiple publishers in including Harlequin Blaze, Headline, Random House, and coming soon with Entangled. Working Girl is available in six languages. She’s also self published. Her stories range from longer full length novels, to scorching quickie novellas. Shana’s passion is to enjoy life! She lives in Ontario, but loves to travel and see the world, be with family, friends and meet new readers.
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon

Sunday, December 16, 2018

The Trouble With Love by Lauren Layne Is Now $1.99

In THE TROUBLE WITH LOVE, a jaded columnist discovers a steamy way to get over an old flame: falling for him all over again. Start reading NOW for ONLY $1.99!

AND, don't miss the first TWO titles in Lauren Layne's 21 Wall Street series, think sexy in a suit, which are NOW only $1.99 (ebook) and 50% off in paperback #Amazon

As Stiletto magazine’s authority on all things breakup-and-heartache, Emma Sinclair writes from personal experience. Five years ago, Emma was Charlotte, North Carolina’s darling debutante and a blushing bride-to-be. Now she’s the ice queen of the Manhattan dating scene. Emma left her sultry Southern drawl behind, but not even her closest friends know that with it she left her heart. Now Emma’s latest article forces her to face her demons—namely, the devilishly sexy guy who ditched her at the altar. 

After giving up everything for a pro-soccer career, Alex Cassidy watches his dreams crumble as a knee injury sidelines him for good. Now he’s hanging up his cleats and giving journalism a shot. It’s just a coincidence that he happens to pick a job in the same field, and the same city, as his former fiancĂ©e . . . right? But when Emma moves in next door, it’s no accident. It’s research. And Alex can’t help wondering what might have been. Unlike the innocent girl he remembers, this Emma is chic, sophisticated, and assertive—and she wants absolutely nothing to do with him. The trouble is, Alex has never wanted her more.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Pure Textuality PR: The Earl I Ruined by Scarlett Peckham

About the Book

The Earl I Ruined
by Scarlett Peckham
Secrets of Charlotte Street Book Two
Historical Romance
Publication Date
December 11, 2018

Purchase Your Copy Today!
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She’s beautiful, rich, and reckless…
When Lady Constance Stonewell accidentally ruins the Earl of Apthorp’s entire future with her gossip column, she does what any honorable young lady must: offer her hand in marriage. Or, at the very least, stage a whirlwind fake engagement to repair his reputation. Never mind that it means spending a month with the dullest man in England. Or the fact that he disapproves of everything she holds dear.

He’s supposedly the most boring politician in the House of Lords…
Julian Haywood, the Earl of Apthorp, is on the cusp of finally proving himself to be the man he’s always wanted to be when his future is destroyed in a single afternoon. When the woman he’s secretly in love with confesses she’s at fault, it isn’t just his life that is shattered: it’s his heart.

They have a month to clear his name and convince society they are madly in love…
But when Constance discovers her faux-intended is decidedly more than meets the eye—not to mention adept at shocking forms of wickedness—she finds herself falling for him.
There’s only one problem: he can’t forgive her for breaking his heart.


In this scene our heroine awaits our hero in a powdering closet, where she plans to be discovered kissing him to convince their families they are in love.

(It does not go well.)

She knew him by his footsteps alone. That precise clipped pace, the moderate thump of a well-kept heel articulated under a (she imagined) slender but finely muscled calf. He never shuffled or stomped. He walked the way he did everything: elegantly.
She reached out from behind the closet door and grabbed him.
Perhaps with too much force, for he came careening toward her in a half stumble and nearly crushed her against the shelves.
“What are you doing?” he gasped, bracing against the shelf above her head to find his balance. The closet was small, just big enough for two adults to stand in. It was lined with wig stands and jars of powder and smelled heavy, like starch and milled soaps. And now, like the woody, balsam scent of whatever Apthorp used to oil his hair.
“Waiting impatiently to be discovered weeping in the wig closet by my future husband,” she said irritably. “Who is four minutes late.”
“May I ask why you are in the wig closet?”
“Because wig closets are just the improbable, tucked-away kinds of places that young lovers go when they wish to steal a moment of privacy to offer each other comfort outside of the prying eyes of their extended families.”
He glanced at her face in the shadows.
“You appear decidedly dry-eyed.”
“Can you please get on with it?”
“Hurry. When we’re discovered, you can’t be freshening up your peruke. Kiss me.”
He inched backward into a stack of smocks. “Absolutely not.”
“Must I do everything?”
She latched on to his shoulders so that he could not escape and, before she could lose her nerve, planted her lips on his.
She had not taken the initiative to kiss anyone since that first fumbling attempt on Apthorp all those years ago—and it was harder than it looked to do it properly, without accidentally eating someone’s nose or clacking into his jaw with one’s forehead. She felt like a mole nosing in the dark for a berry on a bush just slightly out of reach. Under her fumbling lips Apthorp went completely rigid. She stood up on her toes, trying to get better purchase.
He yanked his head out of her reach. “My God, what are you doing?”
“Kissing you. My brother will come looking for us at any moment. We must be locked in a passionate embrace.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes flashing with some emotion she couldn’t place.
“You know, Constance, you really must learn to ask permission.”
He must really learn to stop lecturing her, but now was not the time to press the issue.
“Please just kiss me.” It was imperative that when Archer found them, they be engaged in something more convincing than a discussion of the etiquette of courtship.
Apthorp stared at her, as if debating something in his mind.
“Constance, may I kiss you?” he asked in an official, courtly tone, like he was modeling correct behavior on which she might be tested later.
Gently, he took a hand and tipped her mouth up to his. Gently, he put his lips to hers.
Given what she knew about the secret ways he spent his time, this pretension to gentlemanly delicacy was rather laughable. And they did not have time for it.
She snatched his head in her hands and mashed her face to his, trying to mount a more persuasive display of ardor before anyone witnessed this chaste, practically nonexistent peck.
She felt a rumble beneath her hands.
His shoulders were shaking.
With laughter.
She gasped and pushed him back. His shoulders hit the shelves, causing a wooden wig stand to fall onto a sack of lavender-scented powder, which erupted in a cloud that itched her nose. She immediately fell into a coughing fit so violent that, half-weeping with laughter, he pounded at her back.
“You cow,” she said through gasps. “Because of you, we will both suffocate.”
He stilled, clearly trying to restrain his mirth. “I’m sorry.”
“What is so unbearably humorous?”
“The fact that you are mauling me in the powdering room.”
“I was not mauling you. I was evincing passion.”
His lip quirked up. “In my experience,” he said softly, “that’s not how passion works.”
“No? It works by tiny mincing nibbles at my lower lip?”
“It builds. Lovers have to get to get a feel for one another.”
“Sounds dreadfully dull.”
He stared at her lips for a beat too long, then glanced up into her eyes.
“I assure you, Constance, it isn’t.”
She wanted to be angry at him, but she could not fail to notice that his eyes no longer held the ire they’d borne when he’d looked upon her yesterday. His gaze was earnest. Like he wanted her to understand something that was important to him.
She found herself at a loss for a response. Because for the first time, she was connecting the rumors about this man and his salacious nocturnal predilections to the person whose eyes lingered on her face rather more kindly than she’d have expected of a hell-raking letch, yet with a knowledge in them that made her shiver.
“Haven’t you ever been properly kissed?” he asked softly.
She stuck out her chin, embarrassed to admit that she was far less bold in her private behaviors than the devil-take-it portrait she liked to affect in public. “Of course I have.”
He bit his lip. “Not by anyone who knew how to do it properly, apparently.”

Tour Wide Giveaway

To celebrate the release of THE EARL I RUINED by Scarlett Peckham, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS:  Open to internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Scarlett Peckham.  Giveaway ends 12/24/2018 @ 11:59pm EST. Limit one entry per reader. Duplicates will be deleted. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!

About Scarlett Peckham

SCARLETT PECKHAM is a four-time Golden Heart® finalist in Historical Romance who writes steamy stories about alpha heroines. Her Secrets of Charlotte Street series follows the members of Georgian London’s most discreet – and illicit – private club with lush writing, historical detail, a feminist worldview and a light touch of kink.
Scarlett lives in Los Angeles and when not reading or writing romance she enjoys drinking immoderate quantities of white wine, watching The Real Housewives, and dressing her cat in bowtie.
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Q And A

What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?

I adore Jane Austen, and when I moved to London in 2013 the very first thing I did was go to Bath. Like, within three days of making an international move I hopped on a train and spent the weekend there! I stayed at a quaint Georgian inn and took long walks in the drizzle and ran my fingers over all the luminous Bath stone buildings and reread Northanger Abbey and it was pure English major bliss.

Does writing energize or exhaust you?

Writing new scenes exhausts me but editing energizes me … so I try to always have one project I’m drafting and another I’m refining so that I don’t burn myself out with having to create “new words.”

Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?

All of my books work as standalones, but there is an overarching story to my Charlotte Street series and each book unfolds a bit of that plot and expands upon the world of the subsequent book. The final book will ultimately be Elena Brearley’s story—the heroine is the whipping governess who owns the female-led secret club at the center of the series. So if you read them in order they are full of interesting glimpses of previous characters, and you get to narrow in on different aspects of the world—from a flower nursery and the City of London in The Duke I Tempted, to the more glittering world of the London Beau Monde in The Earl I Ruined. The third book in the series features an employee of the erotic club, so you will begin to see more of the inner-workings of Charlotte Street, which you get a glimpse of in the first book. I’m really excited to write it!

How do you balance making demands on the reader with taking care of the reader?

What I want to do as an author is write books that keep you up all night. It’s that feeling of being unable to put down a romance novel—turning the pages until your fingers are sore—that made me fall in love with the genre. So I like to develop emotionally rich character arcs, take surprising turns and flip conventions and tropes to build lots of suspense, pining and angst…with the assurance the emotional ride will pay off with a gloriously happy ending.

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

When I first started writing in the Georgian period, I read everything I could get my hands on to develop a strong working understanding of the culture, politics, economics and sexuality of that time period in Great Britain. I’ll devote tremendous amounts of time to researching things relating to characters’ daily lives—for instance the heroine of The Duke I Tempted, my first book, is a botanist and nurserywoman, so I went deep into the explosion of the nursery and gardening trade in the eighteenth century, and read a lot of gardening books from the period as well as biographies of influential gardeners.

Living in London helped immensely for developing a sense of the scenery of the time period. I lived in a Georgian neighborhood for a while, and there are so many fabulous museums you can wander through for inspiration. My favorites are the V&A, the Geffrye Museum (literally a museum of the English home—closed for renovation right now but endlessly fascinating) and Dr. Johnson’s house, which is small but has a great book shop. I’m also a member of the National Trust in the UK, which preserves historically significant sites including tons of gorgeous “stately homes”, and so I’ve spent a lot of time on the weekends exploring manors and castles and gardens and old mills. I recently moved back to the United States and I really miss my long ambling walks in the English countryside!

Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with bad or good ones?

I adore reading book reviews! The good ones help me see what resonates with my readers and what they want more of. The mixed ones give me a sense of what I can do better. And the bad ones help me figure out who my audience is, because no one book will ever be able to please every reader. I want my books to deliver a great deal of pleasure to the kind of readers who are seeking out the kinds of books I like to write. (Lush, sexy, feminist historicals, with dashes of angst and humor and kink.)

What was your hardest scene to write?

In the Earl I Ruined, there is a particular sex scene that I probably wrote a hundred times. It is more important emotionally than sexually, and so I kept wanting to close the door on the intimate aspects of the scene, but doing so felt incomplete from a character perspective. It took me until the fourteenth draft to finally write the version that is in the finished book. Hint: if you’ve read the book, it’s the one with the “Cyprian costume” ;)

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

I can draft a book in a month or two, but it takes me months and months—in one case years—to edit them. I often have double the word count in deleted scenes than the finished book I end up with!