Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

Book’Em Piper Release Day Launch

We’re so excited to celebrate the release of Danielle Norman’s BOOK’EM PIPER today! Check out more about it below and pick up your copy now!

 

About BOOK’EM PIPER

I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, an area that even the cops avoided.

The only light in my dark, was the boy next door. He was my hero.

And I was his Sunshine, at least that is what he called me.

 

Liam Kane wasn’t just my neighbor, he was my first and only crush.

He looked after me when I couldn’t look after myself.

When he disappeared my life returned to an endless grey.

 

Now after all these years we’re face to face.

But we’re standing on opposite sides of the law.

He’s a part of the Heretics MC and I’m a deputy.

 

I’m all grown up and more than capable of handling myself.

But I dream about Liam’s capable hands.

Everything has changed… except my feelings for him.

 

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Read the first chapter of BOOK’EM PIPER

“Keep talking there, Twinkletoes, I’ll marry your dad and make you my stepchild.” I glared at three teenage girls who were destined to grow-up and be a drain on some man’s wallet as they walked past me on their way to the yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

“God, how manly.”

“I bet she’s single.”

“Hasn’t she ever heard of makeup?”

But seriously, what was up with teenagers these days? I was a fucking deputy in a fucking uniform and they still had the audacity to give me attitude.

“If I ever say, that I want to be a cop, shoot me, will you?” One of the girls asked her friends.

“They won’t have to, I’ll do it for them,” I said in a low whisper. The entire time they were cataloging my flaws and their disdain for my job, I was straddling my sheriff’s motorcycle, while parked in a convenience store’s parking lot. The owner had been having problems with teenagers coming in after school harassing his patrons. Case and point.

A loud wolf whistle pierced the air, and I turned to find a boy hanging out of a truck. I rolled my eyes as the girls started to giggle.

“Oh my god, Devin just whistled at you,” one of the girls said.

“I can’t believe it, does that mean he thinks I’m pretty?”

“Oh, Breezy, of course it does. You’re so pretty,” her friends reassured her.

“You really think so? I need to lose weight . . .”

I smiled as I watched her twirl one loose strand around a finger. The only thing missing was her blowing a giant wad of bubble gum. It was all a little too cliché for me.

The boys in the truck pulled out and the girls got into their car and chased them. In their pursuit they plowed through an intersection ignoring a stop sign and cutting off several cars.

I rolled my eyes. Fuck.

Nothing beat the feeling of twisting the throttle, the sun beating down on my back, or the vibration between my legs. Holy shit, I couldn’t believe that I just thought that, but it was true. There was just something about being on a Harley, and I was one of the lucky few who got to ride to my heart’s content since I not only rode for fun but also rode for work.

Okay, one thing beat all of that—the adrenaline rush I got every time I flipped on my lights, which I did a second before I went after the pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Some days, karma was a bitch and others she was your best friend, kind of like today. Yeah, Karma and I, we go way back.

“Well, hello, ladies, it seems that you were in a hurry.” I slightly lowered my sunglasses and smirked at three stunned teenagers. “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”

“I can’t get a ticket; I’ll be grounded from my car.”

“You probably should have thought about that before you blew threw the stop sign and cut off those other vehicles.”

“But we came out of the parking lot and turned right. The stop sign is, like, right there, she already stopped and checked when she came out,” the blonde explained, obviously acting as the leader of the pack from the passenger seat.

“Number one, that doesn’t matter. You have to stop at every stop sign. Number two, you didn’t stop at the one in the parking lot either.”

“Just give me the ticket.” The driver turned to her friends. “I’ll just pay it before anyone knows.”

“I’m actually writing you for two different tickets for failure to come to a complete stop as well as reckless driving since you cut off those other cars.” I glanced down at the registration I held in my hands. “Oh, this isn’t your name on the title of the car.”

“No, it’s my dad’s. He gave me the car for my birthday.”

“I’m going to have to call your parents since it is in his name.” I glanced down at her driver’s license and bit back a scoff. Breezy Kidd, yes, that was her fucking name, no shit.

“You can’t do that,” the girl in the passenger seat demanded. “This is harassment. You are harassing us.”

I leaned down so I was at eye level. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t have to tell you.”

“Umm, actually you do. All three of you have to hand your IDs over to me.”

The one girl in the back seat complied and passed hers forward, but the girl in the passenger seat was on my last nerve. “I don’t have it with me.”

“Here’s the issue. Your friend Breezy is eighteen and has committed enough traffic violations that I can write her up for illegal right hand turn, failure to yield right away, careless driving, illegal lane change, and reckless driving, which is criminal, requires her attendance in front of a judge, and can cause her car to be impounded. So, either you comply with the law or the law will not be in your favor.”

Breezy jerked her head and stared at the passenger. “Hand over your license.”

“I’d listen to your friend. Because if the car is impounded, I’m going to have to call a squad car to come get you until you present your ID. We need to make sure you don’t have any warrants or that you aren’t a minor.” Finally getting through to her, she grabbed her license from her bag and handed it to me. I looked at the name. Brittany. Why wasn’t I shocked? “Now I’ll start with you, give me your parent’s phone number,” I said to the driver. She called her dad and was instantly in tears. Clearly, she knew how to play him. The girl in the back seat, Mikayla, who’d been the quietest, called her mom, had tears in her eyes, and even apologized to me . . . there was hope for the future yet. Brittany called her mom, and it was clear that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Mom, Breezey got pulled over. Some female cop.” The girl paused, and it didn’t take Neil Fucking Armstrong to figure out that they were bashing me. “Yeah, probably, she looks like she was probably checking us out. You’re right, that’s probably why she pulled us over. Okay. Love you too, bye.”

When all three were done, I’d written Breezy a ticket with three different citations, and then I let them go. And whoever said that being cop wasn’t fun?

It was close to quitting time, so I eased into traffic and headed back toward the stations, but before I got far, my radio crackled with an incoming a call.

“Orange County, Commercial, Signal twenty-nine, Alpha, 441 and Waterbridge.”

I wanted to get home as much as the next person, but I was only two blocks away, and as much as I hated it, this was part of my job too.

“Thirteen-seventeen, reference signal twenty-nine commercial alpha, I’m nearby. Assign it to me.”

“Orange County copies, seventeen thirty-three. Alarm, Hampton Storage, monitoring company has tried to get in contact with the property owner. Internal motion sensor has not been triggered.”

“Ten ninety-seven.” I stopped talking after giving dispatch the code that told them I was on scene. I dismounted my bike and checked the doors to the main building, which were all locked. I pulled a card out of my pocket and stuck it through the mail slot, proof that I was here and checked. The sign said that they closed at six PM, and since it was ten of six, my guess was that someone cut out early today.

With nothing of note happening out front, I got back on my bike and slowly drove around toward the back. The alarm was still blaring as I rounded the corner to find the back gates wide open and two men on Harleys parked in front of a closed unit.

Even from forty yards away, I could tell that the men were wearing cuts and not just any cuts, they were members of the Heretics. Orlando had several biker gangs, many being one percenters. Most of them lived by the rule: leave us the fuck alone and we will leave you the fuck alone. But not the Heretics. Nope, they were the bullies. The I-want-to-start-a-fight-just-because-I-can type. The type of gang that will kick someone’s ass because they thought it made them look big. When they were done, their victims were seldom left breathing.

So, I stayed where I was and called into dispatch.

“Thirteen-seventeen, ten fifty-six, Hamptons Storage on Waterbridge, signal forty-four, expedite, multiple subjects, known signal zero.” That sounded good, I needed backup because they were people who were known to be armed and dangerous.

Retreating wasn’t an option, I was a deputy, this was my job, and the last thing I wanted was to turn my back on known killers.

At that moment, I wished for a car full of snotty teenagers over these guys, I could handle them. I said a prayer for backup to be nearby and that they would hurry, and I had just finished it about the same time the subjects turned in my direction. I could feel their eyes boring into me. Chills went down my spine, and I flipped my snap on my holster to give my fingers something to do, my heart thumping as the two riders rode over to me.

They were night and day, the one on the left looked like Hollywood’s version of scary biker dude. His cut read Sergeant at Arms, Bladder.

Bladder?

What kind of name was Bladder? He was of medium build, had a beard that could double as a rat’s nest, chains that hung from his pockets to his belt loops, and his face was . . . well . . . all I could do was hear Ham’s voice from The Sandlot. “You know, if my dog were as ugly as you, I’d shave his butt and tell him to walk backwards.”

The other guy also had a beard, but his was what they called a groomed beard—like he actually gave a damn if crumbs fell onto his face. He probably weighed two hundred pounds, and his cut read Candy. I would never understand where bikers get their names. He was on his bike, so I had to take that into account, but I would put him at least six feet.

As I continued my mental catalog, I took in his dirty-blond hair, his muscular arms. I studied the shaped of his face, sloping nose, hooded eyes, and then froze when I locked on to hazel eyes. Eyes that I still saw in my dreams. My eyes darted to his upper lip, and I caught myself before I could lean forward, not to touch him but to get a closer look at the scar there, it wasn’t as pronounced as the one Liam had when we were kids, but that was normal, scars faded over time, right?

It was as if I was eight years old again and he had been reading me Harry Potter. He’d taken me to the park and we both picked sticks to make into wands. When we got back to his house, he’d grabbed a pocketknife and had attempted to carve my name into my “wand.” When he tried to smooth the edges, he pulled back on the blade and lost control and cut his lip. He ended up getting stitches.

It wasn’t long after that when he left during the night without saying goodbye, but I knew this was him.

“Liam?” I asked.

 

 

About Danielle Norman

Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days playing keep away from Theo James who won’t stop calling her just to ask her out.

Of course, all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50 something mom with grown kids, she’s been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and now get her kicks riding a Harley.

As far as her body, she owes a special thanks to Ben & Jerry’s as well as gravity for that. And according to her she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough actually to sing.

Danielle’s books are about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly silly men).

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Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

Bad For You Release Day Launch

Today we are celebrating the release of a new contemporary, standalone title from Taylor Holloway. BAD FOR YOU is now live, and you will not want to miss this novel! Be sure to purchase your copy now and follow Taylor for exclusive updates about the book and the Lone Star Lovers series.

Join Taylor’s Reader Group for Exclusive News!

Bad for You by Taylor Holloway

Lone Star Lovers, #9 | Read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited

Book Blurb:

The boy next door.

Star of my teenage fantasies.

My tormentor.

After serving as an army doctor in some of the most dangerous places on Earth, Brandon has finally come home. And he’s brought his cocky, alpha attitude and rugged good looks with him. To my hospital. He’s still a loose cannon and I’m right in his sights.

But instead of begging for him to stop, this good girl is having to stop herself from begging for more.

I thought I put my obsession with this moody bad boy to bed.

It now appears that’s right where he wants me.

I’ve always made good choices.

But this time I’m worried I’ll pick the one that’s bad for me, even if Brandon feels oh so right.

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————————-

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

 

Taylor Holloway is a bestselling romance author who writes sweet and sexy stories with just enough of an edge to offset all the feels. Her books are specifically Taylor-ed to make you blush, cry, laugh, and swoon. She’s an Austin native with a penchant for bad puns, strong margaritas, expensive shoes, and shiny things. When she’s not writing, she’s working a hilariously bland corporate job, spoiling her husband and cat, or going for long walks in the dark.

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Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

Rowan Revived Release Day Launch

Today we have the release day blitz of ROWAN REVIVED by Taylor Danae Colbert! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: Rowan Revived

Author: Taylor Danae Colbert

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Rowan Revived:

Miss Fix-It—that’s me. And when my sister and nephew are in danger, it’s my natural instinct to step in and get them out of Boston. The girl with the plan, always.

We land at the Rowan Inn—a charming bed-and-breakfast on the shores of the Chesapeake. A sweet little haven we’re hoping will bring us the peace we so desperately need.

Instead, it brings us Jesse Rowan, the gruff and grumpy son of the original owners. The same guy who is single-handedly sinking the Inn faster than an anchor in the bay. But we need a place to crash until I can figure out our next move, so I convince him to let us stay in exchange for help around the place.

At first, he’s rude, sarcastic, and standoffish. But after a few months of working around the Inn together, I realize he’s not as callous as he’d like us to think. And I realize that maybe the Inn isn’t the only project I want to take on. He needs some fixing, too.

But the Inn has to be just a pitstop for us. And as long as we’re on the run, Jesse Rowan can’t be my final destination.

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

“Can I help you?” he asks again.
“No, thanks. We’re just waiting for the owners. We need a room,” I say. Before he says anything, I glare at him. “You know, you almost killed us back there.”
He looks at me with a tilted head.
“You were in the middle of the damn intersection,” he says, nonchalantly, as he makes his way around to the cab of his truck. He pulls out a long piece of wood, and carries it toward the front porch.
“You had a stop sign,” I say.
“It’s a stop sign,” he says. “Not a stop-and-wait-for-an-hour sign.”
I roll my eyes.
“We have a kid, asshole,” I say. My language catches him off guard, and he looks at me through a side-eye.
“I see that. So you should probably drive more carefully,” he says, walking back toward the truck to grab another piece.
I hear Millie snort from behind me, and I glare at her.
“Whatever. We will just wait around back for them to get back,” I say, ushering Caleb and Millie along.
“That’s fine, but the owner is already here,” he calls from the cab of the truck. I freeze.
“They are? Where?” I ask. A sly smirk tugs at his lips.
“You’re lookin’ at him. Mr. Asshole, at your service,” he says, tipping his hat, then pulling it back on his head tightly.
“What?” I ask. He doesn’t reply, he just walks past me with another piece of wood.
“The website said that a couple owned it, Mr. and Mrs. Rowan?” Millie asks. His attitude changes a bit with Millie. He stands a little straighter, looks her in the eye a little longer. I see him studying the black-and-blue on her face, but he looks away quickly.
“They’re dead,” he says, walking back to the truck. “I own this shithole now.”
I look up at the house. I remember the photos on the website–clean, stunning, so well-kept. And now, here it is, in shambles, like a tarnishing piece of silver.
“Who are you?” I ask. He turns to me, wiping a bead of sweat onto his sleeve.
“Jesse Rowan,” he says.
“Rowan?” I ask.
“Rowan. Like the sign!” Caleb says. Jesse looks down at Caleb, who’s back to stroking the dog. That smile tugs at his lips again.
“Like the sign,” he says.

About Taylor:

Taylor Danae Colbert is a romance and women’s fiction author. When she’s not chasing her toddler or hanging with her husband, she’s probably under her favorite blanket, either writing a book, or reading one. Taylor lives in Maryland, where she was born and raised. For more information, visit taylordanaecolbert.com.

 

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Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

Ribbons of Scarlet Release Day Launch

Today we have the release blitz of Ribbons of Scarlet! Check out the gorgeous new release and grab your copy today!

Title: Ribbons of Scarlet

Authors: Laura Kamoie * Kate Quinn * Stephanie Dray * Sophie Perinot * Heather Webb * E. Knight

Genre: Historical Fiction

About Ribbons of Scarlet:

Ribbons of Scarlet is a timely story of the power of women to start a revolution—and change the world.

 

In late eighteenth-century France, women do not have a place in politics. But as the tide of revolution rises, women from gilded salons to the streets of Paris decide otherwise—upending a world order that has long oppressed them.

 

Blue-blooded Sophie de Grouchy believes in democracy, education, and equal rights for women, and marries the only man in Paris who agrees. Emboldened to fight the injustices of King Louis XVI, Sophie aims to prove that an educated populace can govern itself–but one of her students, fruit-seller Louise Audu, is hungrier for bread and vengeance than learning. When the Bastille falls and Louise leads a women’s march to Versailles, the monarchy is forced to bend, but not without a fight. The king’s pious sister Princess Elisabeth takes a stand to defend her brother, spirit her family to safety, and restore the old order, even at the risk of her head.

 

But when fanatics use the newspapers to twist the revolution’s ideals into a new tyranny, even the women who toppled the monarchy are threatened by the guillotine. Putting her faith in the pen, brilliant political wife Manon Roland tries to write a way out of France’s blood-soaked Reign of Terror while pike-bearing Pauline Leon and steely Charlotte Corday embrace violence as the only way to save the nation. With justice corrupted by revenge, all the women must make impossible choices to survive–unless unlikely heroine and courtesan’s daughter Emilie de Sainte-Amaranthe can sway the man who controls France’s fate: the fearsome Robespierre.

 

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National Convention

Paris, France

December 1792

 

“There she is, the harlot . . .”

 

“La femme Roland . . .”

 

“Traitorous slut . . .”

 

The whispers followed me as I made my way across the floor, looking neither right nor left. It was the first time a woman had been called to address the Convention, and I’d dressed for the occasion as though it were an honor: a blue gown that foamed about my feet as I stalked to the bar, a white fichu pinned with my tricolor cockade, red ribbons twined through my hair. A revolutionary patriot, top to toe. When I turned to face the questions, I let my eyes travel, bold and confident, to the high bleacher seats where the radical Jacobins held court.

 

Before the proceedings could even begin, some heckler from their ranks called, “How do you answer the charge of treason, citizeness?”

 

I replied with calm contempt. “The charge is ludicrous, and all here know it.”

 

It was a smear job of the crudest kind: an unsavory informer reporting he had discovered a London conspiracy to restore the king, and that my husband and I were complicit. My husband had already been summoned to account for himself and had perhaps not done as well as he might: he couldn’t hide his indignation, and he became flustered when the tone turned sneering. I would not give my questioners a chance to sneer.

 

“The informer states clearly, Citizeness Roland, that you—”

 

“I did not summon him.” I spoke briskly, taking the reins before my questioner could bring down the whip and speed this interrogation to the pace my enemies wanted. This was going to go at my pace, not theirs. “From my files of letters I can see the man wrote to me, asking for an interview with Minister Roland. I receive dozens of such requests every week.”

 

“You do not deny you received the man?”

 

“He paid a brief call, and from his probing I concluded he was sent to sound us out about some scheme or other.” I smiled. “Or perhaps I was wrong. I am a woman and not skilled in these matters.”

 

The questioner took turns with his colleagues, trying to turn my words on me, trying to talk me in circles. As long as I had listened to politicians drone over my dinner table, I could talk anyone in circles. I shredded their accusations and stamped the shreds underfoot, feeling the color rise in my cheeks—not embarrassment, but the fierce heat of pride. Was this what Roland felt when he addressed the Convention? This rush of power that tingled the fingertips, the confidence that my words were deploying like obedient soldiers and the crowd sat in the palm of my hand? Why would anyone who had command of this floor ever leave it?

 

Finally, I was excused to the sound of ringing applause among the deputies, the charge dismissed in full, the honors of the session formally accorded to me. I looked from Robespierre to Danton to Marat with a wide bland smile as I glided out, and the smile became a beam as my husband drew me into the nearest empty hall.

 

“Thank goodness it’s over.” His face was creased with relief. “Let me take you home, calm your nerves.”

 

“My nerves are calm, and I can take myself home. You stay, speak with those who need reassuring.”

 

He kissed my forehead. “I hated seeing you up there,” he muttered, before rushing back inside.

 

He’d hardly gone before a low voice spoke behind me, prickling my skin. “I loved seeing you up there. You were born to it.”

 

I turned, smile draining away. The man who loved me stood feet planted wide, arms folded, dark hair rumpled—he must have been waiting to catch me alone. “Citizen,” I managed to say, not daring to put his name through my lips.

 

“You were brilliant,” he said quietly. “Brave as a lioness.” A voice of calm power for a man not yet thirty-three. Six years younger than I, what did that say about me? “They should have known better than to try to trap you in so crude a snare.”

 

“That shabby excuse for a conspiracy might have been crude, but it was real, even if we had no involvement.” I kept my voice brisk, turning the conversation to safer waters. “As long as the king lives, there will be plots to restore him. The matter will have to be dealt with.”

 

“The king is just a man, and a small one.”

 

“With a long shadow.”

 

We both smiled involuntarily. It had always been like that with us, the eager cut-and-thrust of our minds. “If you wish to speak to my husband . . .”

 

But the man who loved me took my hand.

 

“Manon, I honor Roland and support him always. But I am here for you.”

 

About Laura Kamoie:

New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller Laura Kaye is the author of over forty books in romantic suspense and contemporary and erotic romance and has sold more than one million books in the U.S. alone. Among her many awards, she won the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense of 2014 for Hard As You Can. A former college history professor, Laura grew up amid family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses, cementing her life-long fascination with storytelling and the supernatural. Laura lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Laura also writes historical fiction under the name Laura Kamoie, also a Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and USA Today bestseller.

Laura is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Maryland Romance Writers, the Washington Romance Writers, and she is past president of the RWA-Contemporary Romance Writers.

 

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Frat House Confessions: Wes Release Day Launch

Today we are celebrating the release of FRAT HOUSE CONFESSIONS: WES by Bethany Lopez. It is a contemporary romance, standalone title you won’t want to miss. Check out the giveaway below for a signed copy of both titles in the series and an Amazon Echo Dot!

Purchase your copy now.

——————

Frat House Confessions: Wes by Bethany Lopez

Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

She wants more than just his forgiveness…

Trixie’s not ashamed of the exposé she wrote for the college newspaper last year. She’s a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes to get the story, even if it meant lying to a friend to get the inside scoop.

Still, every time she sees Wes, she regrets the loss of someone she really enjoyed spending time with. Not one for labels, or someone who puts limitations on attraction, Trixie can’t deny the pull she feels toward Wes when they cross paths again.

He’s willing to do whatever it takes to change her perception of him…

Wes has always been the odd man out. Different than his brothers, he was always more comfortable playing video games or enjoying solitary moments in the pool.

Although he never expected someone as sexy as Trixie to fall for an inexperienced guy like him, he also never expected her betrayal. Now that he has a second chance, can he get her to see him as more than the nice guy she duped?


A year has passed, but anger and regret still linger. Can Wes and Trixie agree to put the past behind them and move forward, or will late night confessions prove to be more than they can forgive and forget?

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Enter to win a signed copy of FRAT HOUSE CONFESSIONS: RIDGE and FRAT HOUSE CONFESSIONS: WES, with an Amazon Echo Dot.

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Read an Exclusive Bitehttps://bookandmainbites.com/story/38704

Excerpt:

“There’s an open booth over there,” Starla said, moving toward the back left of the bar.

I followed close behind, the thought of my soon-to-be-ordered wings making my stomach growl.

I was thinking how good a large draft beer would go with said wings, when I looked to the right and saw two gorgeous guys. They had matching grins and dark hair, and were laughing up at the woman who was delivering their food.

One looked very familiar…

Wes.

My stomach clenched as his gaze shifted and landed on me, and my breath held as I waited for his acknowledgement. When he turned back to the server instead, without so much as a glimmer of recognition, my heart fell.

I was right… he hated me.

GET THE PREVIOUS TITLE IN THE SERIES

FRAT HOUSE CONFESSIONS: RIDGE is available now!

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Universal Link

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Bethany Lopez is a USA Today Bestselling author of more than thirty books and has been published since 2011. She’s a lover of all things romance, which she incorporates into the books she writes, no matter the genre.
When she isn’t reading or writing, she loves spending time with family and traveling whenever possible.
Bethany can usually be found with a cup of coffee or glass of wine at hand, and will never turn down a cupcake!

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Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

Hating the Boss Release Day Launch

Today we have the release day blitz for Hating the Boss by Kristen Granata! Check out the release festivities and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: Hating the Boss

Author: Kristen Granata

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Hating the Boss:

One night.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

Imagine my surprise when Mr. Sexy in a Suit breezed through the door on the first day of school.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet my new boss.

Not only does he instantly recognize me, but he accuses me of stealing something valuable from him the morning I walk-of-shamed out of his apartment.

When bullying me into a confession doesn’t work, he turns my life into a living nightmare – as if that will coax me into returning what I supposedly stole.

But this is my school, and the only thing I’ll be returning is payback.

Game. On.

There’s only one problem. I wanted him before I hated him, and even now, a part of me still wants him. Somehow, through all of our fighting, through the anger and the pranks, I think I’m falling in love with the enemy.

 

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Exclusive Excerpt:

I’ve been out of my office for most of the day. There must be a full moon coming tonight because the kids in this school are feral. I’ve had to sign off on six conduct reports and three incident reports.

At one o’clock, I fall into my comfy rolling chair behind my desk. My door is closed, and I’m hoping to catch up on e-mails and make a dent in this paperwork piled high on my desk.

I place my hand on my mousepad, feeling around for the mouse.

What the …?

Where’s the damn mouse?

I check under my desk and inside the drawers, but it doesn’t take too long for realization to set in.

“Goddamnit.”

I tear open the door and stomp down the hallway.

Raegan’s at the whiteboard in her classroom in the middle of a math lesson. She doesn’t look surprised when I barge into her room and start searching through the drawers in her desk.

She does, however, look like a cat who’s been caught with a mouthful of bird.

With a bounce in her step, she waltzes over to me. “Good Afternoon, Principal Waters. Can I help you? What is it that you’re looking for?”

Glancing at the class briefly, I give her a hard stare and smile. “You know exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

I edge closer to her, lowering my lips to her ear. Her warm, sweet scent wafts into my nostrils, and I fight the urge to run my nose along her neck. Focus, Waters. Jesus. “Give it back, or things are going to get a lot worse for you around here.”

Her eyes blaze as they lock with mine. She closes the gap between us, her chest almost pressed flush against me, and she whispers, “You don’t scare me.”

A shiver racks through my body. I can’t decide if I want to strangle her or fuck her right here on her desk. I’m starting to gain a better understanding of people who have a choking fetish.

“Hi, Principal Waters!” Hannah’s waving at me with Joshua at her side.

I clear my throat and straighten my tie. “Hi, Hannah. Hello, class. I hope you’re all having a great day full of fun and learning.”

Raegan chokes back a laugh as she saunters back to the whiteboard.

Laugh it up now. You won’t be laughing for much longer.

About the Author:

Kristen Granata is a teacher by day, and an (exhausted) author by night. Known for writing emotional New Adult Romance, she loves creating realistic, flawed characters who struggle through the darkest parts of life and come out stronger on the other side. Kristen is a self-proclaimed “bitter cynic trapped in a hopeless romantic’s body.” Her characters pack a sarcastic punch, make you laugh, make you think, make you ugly cry – and they will always live happily ever after. If you’re a lover of moving, inspirational reads, Kristen’s your girl.

Kristen was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1986. She moved to Staten Island with her family and lived there for almost twenty years. There she attended community college and became a teacher. Despite her passion for writing, and despite her professors strongly suggesting she become a writer, she took the more sensible route (bitter cynic, remember?) After going through a difficult divorce when she was only twenty-nine, Kristen returned to writing. The raw story that poured out of her led her to publish her debut novel, Collision, in March of 2018. Soon after in August 2018, the sequel, Avoidance, was published. Her third novel, The Other Brother, released in April 2019.

Kristen openly shares her mental health struggles with depression and anxiety with her Instagram following. Her message is a beacon of hope to anyone who is suffering: You are not alone. She delicately weaves this theme into her writing, and demonstrates the ability of love to heal trauma.

When she’s not teaching or writing, Kristen is reading, Instagramming, indulging in her messy love affair with popcorn, and annoying her wife and step-daughters by incessantly singing along to The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

 

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Blog Posts, Home Page, Release Day Launches

The Carlington Twins Duet Cover Reveal

Today we have the cover reveal for by Emma Doherty! Check out the gorgeous covers and be sure to pre-order your copy today!

Title: All That’s Left

Author: Emma Doherty

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Day: October 24th

About All That’s Left:

Izzy Kavanagh’s life falls apart when her mother dies. She is forced to move to the US and live with her absent father, who thinks money is the answer to every problem, and her twin brother Ethan, who she has barely spoken to in years.

 

She hates everything about the move. She hates that she’s forced to finish high school even though she’s already completed it in the UK. She hates that her father is controlling her and threatening to take away her inheritance if she doesn’t do as he says, even though he’s barely there and couldn’t care less about her. She hates that everybody already has an opinion on her based on her family name.

 

But what she hates above all else is having to see her brother every day in his perfect life where everybody worships him, because he chose this life over her and her mum.

 

And for that, she’ll never forgive him.

 

Pre-Order Your Copy Today!

Title: All That’s Been Said

Author: Emma Doherty

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Day: November 7th

About All That’s Been Said:

Izzy Kavanagh hates her new life in the US; that much she’s made obvious. She’s done everything she can to alienate her twin, Ethan, and to prove she doesn’t want to be there.

She’s certainly succeeded.

Perhaps a little too much.

Suddenly the idea of having her brother hate her isn’t what she wants. Knowing her mother would be ashamed of her behaviour weighs on her mind, and the idea of having someone who cares about her isn’t so bad after all. Then there’s her brother’s best friend, Finn. No matter how much she wants to ignore him and pretend she doesn’t care about his opinion, he always seems to be there, and it’s getting harder and harder to act like she’s indifferent to him

But the damage has been done, and now all she can do is count down the days until she’s allowed to return to the UK and forget all about her time in the US.

That’s what she’s wanted all along…right?

 

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

A chair is kicked out directly into my path, halting me in place. I turn to see where it’s come from and see Ethan is sat slouched in the chair opposite the one he’s shoved in my direction. Of course he’s in here. I should have thought about that, and I mentally kick myself for not thinking about him when I agreed to come in. My eyes scan around his table. It’s completely full. Every seat is taken, and there are people standing around on the edges, like they’re chatting to those that are sat down, only no one’s chatting right now. They’re all staring at me.

Ethan clears his throat and nods towards the only empty seat, which he’s kicked into my pathway. “I saved you a seat. Sit down and I’ll introduce you around.”

I pause whilst he stares back at me, his face totally expressionless unless you know him well and can detect the tenseness in his jaw. He’s not as comfortable as he’d like everyone to believe. We both know what this is. It’s a chance for me to slot into his life as his sister and take my place amongst his friends, to forget about the last six years. My eyes meet his and, just for a second, I see the hope that’s there before I shake my head.

No.

No, he can’t have it both ways. He can’t drop me as a twelve-year-old and then expect me to walk back into his life like nothing has happened. We can’t pretend the last five years didn’t happen and that he wasn’t there when I needed him. Neither of us say anything for a few seconds then I shove the chair back towards him with more force than is strictly necessary and go to move on.

“Izzy!”

I pause and look back at him. His eyes are still focused on me, but I’m acutely aware that it’s not just his eyes on me. His whole table is silent as they watch our exchange. “Just sit down, okay?”

“Yeah, come on, pretty girl. Sit with us.” I turn and see a grinning guy with light brown hair sat next to Ethan. It’s the same guy who was in my history class and wanted me to sit near him.

Ethan turns to face him. “Shut up, Logan. Didn’t you hear me this morning?”

The guy pales at the memory and the smile is wiped from his face. “Sorry, I’m just being friendly.”

“Well don’t,” Ethan snaps. He turns back to me. “Come on, sit down.”

“No, thank you.”

“Biz!”

I freeze completely, and my eyes find his. “Don’t call me that,” There’s a definite bite to my tone. Biz is what my mum used to call me. Ethan did too, to be fair, but I can’t hear that right now. Not when no one’s called me that since she died.

His eyes flash with annoyance. “Fine,” he bites out. “Take a seat, Isabella.” My eyes narrow, he knows I hate my full name and no one ever calls me it, not even teachers. I go by Izzy, as he knows full well. I shake my head and turn to walk away. “Actually, I heard you’re going by Kavanagh now.” There’s an edge to his voice that I’ve not heard before. “Been hearing all morning about the new girl Izzy Kavanagh.” Anger crosses his face, like it’s a personal insult to him that I’m not using the same surname as him. But why would I? I can’t stand my father, so why would I want his name? “Kavanagh,” he mutters like it leaves a bad taste, which is weird considering it’s his mum’s name too.

“I go by my mum’s name,” I tell him unnecessarily.

Your mum’s name?” he asks incredulously. “Yours?”

“Yeah, I think they know each other,” someone mutters nearby, and someone else replies, “No shit.” Apart from that, there’s total and utter silence from his friends as they watch our exchange.

Ethan doesn’t even notice them. His focus is solely on me as he shakes his head and his hands clench into fists on the table. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that? You finally decide to turn up after four days and then I hear you’re using Kavanagh. You’re a…” He stops himself from finishing and instead takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, as though he’s trying to calm himself down.

But I’m interested now. “I’m what?” I step towards him. This isn’t like him. Usually he’s happy-go-lucky. Usually he doesn’t show his real feelings; he’s an expert at covering them. “Finish your sentence, Ethan,” I say sharply.

He throws his hands up. “You know what? I should just be grateful you showed, right? That you showed up and are gracing me with your presence. That you’re not drunk for the first time in days. That I actually know where you are for once.”

My eyes bore into his. Why is he acting like he’s concerned? Why is he acting like he’s bothered about my behaviour? He can’t suddenly start acting like this after years of silence between us.

My silence just pisses him off further. “Or maybe I should just be thankful that we’re actually having a conversation, right? Because God knows you don’t talk to me anymore,” he mutters snaps.

Finally. Finally he’s not being the perfect all-American teenager who’s bothered by nothing.

“I don’t even know…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, like he wasn’t actually aware of what he was saying.

“Speak up, Ethan,” I tell him, putting my lunch onto the table in front of me and crossing my arms. “Use your words. Formulate a proper sentence.” I say just because I want to see how far I can push him to get a reaction. “Even you can manage to do that.”

“You fucking bitch,” he snaps before he can think, and I start to laugh as there are shocked gasps around us. I’m amused because my perfect brother is finally losing his control and showing me some of his true feelings for a change.

“Whoa, whoa,” Finn starts, looking at him in surprise before glancing back at me. “We all just need to chill out.”

Neither Ethan nor I acknowledge him.

“Yeah,” Logan starts. “I think maybe you should go sit somewhere else, pretty girl.”

Ethan turns to glare at him. “Stop calling her that. I already told you guys to leave her alone. If I find out any of you guys have gone near her, I swear to God you’ll regret it.”

Finn looks startled at the anger in Ethan’s tone as I start to laugh and say, “It’s a bit late to start worrying about my honour, Ethan. That went a long time ago.”

He winces as he realises what I’m saying. At the look on my face, his wince turns into a glare. “Just shup up.” He turns to look back at his friends. “I mean it. She’s off limits.”

“We got it, E,” Finn assures him just as the blonde at Ethan’s side—the girl Pippa shied away from earlier, the one who’s been looking steadily more and more pissed off throughout our conversation—finally explodes. “WHAT THE HELL, ETHAN? Why are you telling people she’s off limits?”

He barely glances at her. “I’ll tell you later, Evie,” he says distractedly, dismissing her.

Evie. That’s the name of the girl I know I don’t like without even saying a word to her.

Ethan is reaching down and grabbing his bag, and he’s rounded the table before I tear my eyes away from Evie, having matched the look she’s giving me with one of my own. “Come on,” he starts, grabbing my arm. “I want to talk to you.”

I snatch my arm back from his grip. “Don’t touch me,” I snap. I already have one family member trying controlling me and telling me what to do. I don’t need another. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

That seems to be the last straw for Ethan. “You are a fucking nightmare. Do you know that? I’ve been worried about you all week and you just turn up like nothing’s wrong. You are so selfish and…” He stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut as he realises just how much we’re being scrutinised, but I want to hear more.

“Go on,” I tell him, my voice low. “Tell me what you think.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just get out of here.”

I take a step closer to him. “Tell me what you think of me, Ethan,” I challenge quietly. I pause whilst he just glares back at me, his whole body radiating tension. When he doesn’t respond, I continue. “Do you want to know what I think of you?” There’s no need to raise my voice. There’s total silence around us, and it’s not just his table watching us anymore, but I don’t care. I’ve been itching to tell Ethan what I think of him for months, if not years, and if this is the place where I do it, so be it. I take another step closer to him. “I think that you are a pathetic excuse for a so—”

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Evie suddenly erupts from her place at the table. She stands and comes to face me, flanking Ethan on his left. “YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO US LIKE THAT.”

“I don’t remember speaking to you. Did I?”

Her jaw falls open. Clearly she’s not used to people speaking back to her. She crosses her arms over her chest and takes a step closer to me. “You need to be careful.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“You don’t have a clue what you’ve just done.” Her dark blue eyes bore into me, and a smile takes over her lips. “You just made a big mistake,” she warns me. “You just committed social suicide, babe. I don’t care about your dumb accent or your designer handbag. You’re officially done here.”

“I’m done?”

“I’m gonna make sure of it. I’m gonna be your worst nightmare.”

Ethan’s head snaps to her in surprise, and he scowls in disgust. “Evie, stop. Don’t be such a bitch.”

She looks utterly flabbergasted that he’s defended me.

“I don’t need your help, Ethan,” I tell him.

He turns to me. “It would be really good if you could just shut your mouth right now, Biz.”

“Shut up.”

“What did you say?” Evie demands, pushing past Ethan to get closer to me. It’s obvious she’s getting more and more agitated that there’s something going on that she doesn’t understand.

“I said ‘Shut up.’ Want me to spell it for you?”

Her face turns red with fury and she leans towards me. “I don’t know who you think you are with that stupid accent—”

“British,” I interrupt her. “It’s a British accent. You might have heard of it? Collection of countries in Europe? The UK?”

She splutters for a minute. “Whatever. I don’t care where you came from—in this school you don’t speak to us like that, and you definitely don’t speak to Ethan Carlington like that. Do you even know who he is?”

I glance over at Ethan, who looks like he wishes he’d never bothered stopping me. “Yes, I’m aware of who Ethan Carlington is.”

“Well then you should know he’s not even on your level, babe. His dad owns this town, and if your family wants to settle in, it’s best not to piss off his son.”

Ethan’s jaw falls open at her words, and I wonder just how good she usually is at hiding her bitchy behaviour. I’ve no doubt this is her true character, but I wonder how often she actually shows it to Ethan and his friends, because the Ethan I knew would never tolerate this. He would never want to be around someone who behaves like this.

I tilt my head as I survey him. “Wow. Sounds like you’ve got a really great dad. Lucky you.”

He rolls his eyes at me in irritation, and it only infuriates her further.

“You’re done here,” she continues, glaring hard. “I wouldn’t even bother coming back if I were you.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, taking a step towards her so we’re almost touching. She’s gorgeous, no doubt about that, and she definitely knows it, but she’s one of those girls who needs to make everyone else feel bad just to make herself feel better. “Why? What are you going to do?”

She smirks at me, and I can see it in her eyes. She thinks she’s going to shut me down the way she’s probably shut down countless girls before just because she doesn’t like something about them, or just because she’s bored. Either way, I can promise she’s not going to do it to me. “You just wait. You’ll regret ever stepping foot in this school. I’m gonna enjoy this.”

I grin and glance over at Ethan, who is staring at Evie in disbelief, like he doesn’t even recognise her. “Did you hear that, Ethan? Your little friend here is threatening me.”

“Could you stop trying to wind everyone up for just a second?” he snaps at me before turning to Evie. “And don’t talk to her like that. What is wrong with you?”

Evie’s face turns red at the reprimand. “I was just…I was sticking up for you.”

“Awww. It’s sweet that you want to fight your friend’s battles, but he’s a big boy.”

She turns back on me. “He’s my boyfriend,” she bites out, like it’s something I should just know. “And you can make sure you stay away from him.”

Of course she’s his girlfriend. Of course.

I start to laugh and look at Ethan, who looks positively mortified. “Seriously?” I ask. “This is your girlfriend?” I let my eyes sweep around the cafeteria, taking in the faces looking back at me. “Must be slim pickings around here if she’s the best you can do.”

It’s the final straw for Evie, and a growl leaves her mouth as she lunges at me, but Ethan catches her around the waist before she gets to me. He pulls her back, and she turns to look at him, hurt and confusion crossing her face. “Why are you defending her?” she asks him. “Why are you taking her side when she’s speaking to you like that?” She turns to look back at me. “Who are you?”

I stare back at her and let out a humourless laugh. “Who am I?” I step closer to her, my eyes boring into hers. I glance at Ethan, who is glaring back at me, before turning back to this girlfriend. “I’m his twin.” I pause as I watch her eyes widen in disbelief. “Who the hell are you?!”

 

 

About the Author:

Emma Doherty was born in Yorkshire, England. She attended university in Newcastle before moving to London. She loves to travel, write, spend time with friends and family and hear from her readers.

 

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