Friday, March 21, 2014

Review Blitz Wilde Riders by Savannah Young

Wilde Riders

Review Blitz

wilde riders

Book Title: Wilde Riders 
Author: Savannah Young 
Genre: Romance 
Release Date: February 11. 2014 

Synopsis

FOUR WILDE BROTHERS…ONE WILDE COUNTRY BAND WILDE RIDERS is the first novel in a spicy new contemporary romance series about four sexy brothers, their small-town bar and their local country band. WILDE RIDERS can be read as a STAND ALONE NOVEL or as part of the SERIES. Cooper Wilde spent his entire adolescence counting the days until he could escape rural northwest New Jersey. Now at 26, he can’t believe he’s coming back. But his late father’s bar, Haymakers, is in financial trouble and his older brother, Jake, has asked for Cooper’s help. Riley Smith, 25, is fresh out of her Ivy League MBA program and wants to make an impression on her employer, H & C Bank. Her first solo assignment is a fraud investigation on a business loan they made to Haymakers. Even though Old Town is less than 90 minutes from New York City, Riley feels like she’s stepped into another world in this remote, one-bar town. Riley can’t wait to do her business and get back to the city as quickly as her sports car will take her…until she meets Cooper Wilde. He’s not like the other guys in this rural town and Riley feels inexplicably attracted to him.

  excerpt

The drive into New Jersey is exhausting. My only saving grace is that most of the traffic is going into the city instead of out of the city like I am. You’ve got to love those bridge and tunnel guys. I wouldn’t date one but I have a little bit of respect for them. The commute into Manhattan turns a nine hour work day into an eleven hour one, if you’re lucky. I can feel my stomach start to knot as I get further away from the city and further away from civilization. Pretty soon I’ll be in the sticks surrounded by woods and farmland. I can almost smell the manure that will no doubt take days to completely rid from my nasal passages. I pray that I don’t run into any animals, especially cows, which are huge, smelly and completely freak me out. The only live animals I ever care to see have to fit comfortably in a handbag, like a Chihuahua or Teacup Poodle, for example.
I have an appointment with a man named Jake Wilde. He asked me to come early, before the place opens at noon, so he could give me his full attention. I try to imagine what someone named Jake Wilde would look like and all I can come up with is an old gunslinger like Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven.
As I pull into Old Town the place looks exactly like I thought it would. The buildings in the town square are old and I image the place hasn’t changed much in the last hundred years or so.
Haymakers is just past the town square, down the hill from the deli, next to the gas station. Those were the exact directions I was given, in those words. I take that to mean the town only has one gas station and one deli.
When I pull into the parking lot, there’s only one other vehicle sitting there. It’s an old beat-up Dodge Ram. Nothing like fitting the country bumpkin stereotype like a glove. I have a brief moment of panic and wonder if it’s safe to park my BMW in the dirt lot. Then I remind myself where I am. Who is going to mess with it in the middle of the day? A stray deer from the woods out back? The only thing I probably have to worry about is it getting dusty.
I take in a deep breath. I have to be thankful there’s no manure smell yet. The quicker you do this, I remind myself, the quicker you can get back to the lovely asphalt jungle you call home.
I’m hit with a gust of wind as soon as I get out of my car. How is it possible that Old Town is even windier than lower Manhattan? I didn’t think I’d ever find a place windier than Wall Street. Even the Windy City didn’t seem this windy when I had business in Chicago.
When I enter the bar, I try to smooth down my thick hair, which I know is probably a complete mess from the gust. I’m surprised by the homey feel of the place. How could someone like me possibly feel at home in a country bar? Even if I was wearing jeans and cowboy boots, if I even owned jeans and cowboy boots, I wouldn’t fit in at a place like this.
I hear someone clear his throat and I turn to see a guy about my age, mid-twenties, standing next to me. I can’t help my surprise when I see he’s wearing khakis and a polo shirt, like he just stepped off of a golf course. He looks as out of place in this country bar as I feel.
“Are you Jake Wilde?” I ask.
The guy gives me the faintest hint of a smile but it’s almost as if it pains him to give that much. His deep brown eyes look even more distressed and I can’t help but wonder what’s behind those sad eyes.
He rakes his fingers through his thick dark hair. “A little windy out, isn’t it?”
My hand automatically goes to my hair and I try to casually flatten it down again. I imagine I must look like I just stepped out of a wind tunnel.
“Your hair looks fine,” the guy tries to assure me. But he’s got that hint of a smile on his face again and it makes me wonder if he’s lying just to make me feel better.
“I’m Cooper Wilde,” the guy says as he offers a hand.
I don’t know why I suddenly feel nervous about shaking it. It’s a business meeting. That’s what people do. But the way this guy is looking at me gives me the feeling that he might be interested in more than just business.
But I’m not, I remind myself. Not only because I’ve all but sworn off men, I’m here to do a job. I’ve been working for H & C Bank for two years and this is my first solo assignment as a lead investigator. If I continue to do well, I’ll be well on my way to becoming a Vice President before I turn thirty. I don’t need a man to throw me off my career trajectory. And definitely not some guy in a country bar in rural New Jersey.
I take his hand and give it a quick shake but I can’t bring my-self to look into his smoldering eyes again. “I’m Riley Smith.”
“I figured that,” Cooper says.
“Why is that?”
That hint of a smile has returned to his face again. “We don’t often get women in business suits in the bar.”
I’m not sure why I’m suddenly overcome with the urge to get a real smile out of Cooper Wilde. I don’t know even know the guy but it somehow seems important. I get the feeling he hasn’t really smiled in a while and it’s long overdue.
Not that I’ve had much occasion for real smiles myself lately.
“My brother will be here in a minute or two. He’s just printing a few documents from the computer. Purchase orders and receipts.”
I nod and look around the place. From the outside, I thought it was going to be a dive but the place actually has character. I can tell the wooden bar is old, and it looks hand carved, as do the barstools. There’s a large stage area that looks new. That’s one of the expenses I was charged with investigating. I try to image what the place looks like filled with patrons watching a local band play on a Friday night.
“Ms. Smith?” I hear a deeper male voice say.
I look up to see another guy approaching. He also looks around my age, mid-twenties, but he looks more like what I’d expect inside a country bar. He’s wearing a white button down shirt with jeans and cowboy boots. His hair is lighter than Cooper’s and his face is rounder, more boyish, but there’s definitely a family resemblance between these two guys. They’re both about the same height, around six feet, with athletic builds, like they play sports.
“I’m Jake Wilde,” the lighter haired guy says.
I try not to laugh as I look at Jake. He’s young, attractive and nothing like Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven. So much for my speculation about his name.
I notice Jake has papers in his hands. “Maybe we should have a seat at one of the tables.” He motions to a table closest to us.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks. Jake has one thing that Cooper doesn’t. An absolutely killer smile. It’s the kind of smile that can probably get any girl into bed in a matter of minutes. Well, any girl except me. I no longer fall for guys with smiles like that. It hurts too much the next morning when they say they’ll call you, and give you that smile, and you know they’re lying and you’ll never hear from them again.
“I’ll take some water,” I reply.
Jake actually winks at me before he turns to head towards the bar. The guy knows how to charm people I’ll give him credit for that.
I notice Cooper now has the papers in his hand. Without saying anything, he sits down and I follow.
“I think this is everything you’ll need as far as the fraud investigation is concerned. We’ve got purchase orders for all of the improvements as well as receipts for the completed work. You’re sitting at one of the new tables right now. And you can see the new stage from here. I’d be happy to take you up to the new roof, if you’d like to see it.”
Cooper pushes the stack of papers toward me. I quickly thumb through them. I’ll make a few phone calls when I get back into the city to verify everything and cover my butt. At first glance, though, everything looks clean. It doesn’t seem like a case of fraud, more likely poor bookkeeping.
“The loan hasn’t been paid in months,” I say even though that’s not really my department. I’m here only for the fraud investigation. They’ll be dealing with someone else regarding the default on the loan.
“I know,” Cooper says, and I can see more darkness over-shadow his already dark eyes. “I’m going to try and fix that.”
Jake comes back with three bottles of water. “Bottle okay or would you like a glass?” he asks.
“Bottle is fine,” I say.
Jake sets the bottles down on the table and takes the seat right next to me. I’m a little taken aback by how much space he commands. And not just because of his size. It’s his energy—his being—that’s so large.
“So what did I miss?” Jake asks.
Cooper eyes his brother and I can see there’s a little bit of animosity between them. Or at least there is on Cooper’s part. Jake seems kind of oblivious to it.
Cooper rubs his temple and says, “I was just telling Miss Smith that we’re willing to cooperate with her investigation in any way we can. I’ve given her all of the documents she’ll need.”
“Great,” Jake says. He gives me another one of his charming smiles then looks at me like he’s undressing me with his eyes.
I reflexively pull my suit jacket tighter even though I’m revealing nothing. I’m wearing a conservative button-down banker’s suit but I still feel like Jake can see through it somehow.
“I’ll look at the papers more closely when I get back to the city. I assume these are copies I can take with me?”
“Of course,” Cooper replies. The guy is all business. It’s in sharp contrast to his brother who seems more like a non-stop-party kind of guy.
“Did you decide if you want to see the roof?” Cooper asks.
When Jake laughs, Cooper glares at him.
“What?” Jake says. “If that’s supposed to be a pick up line, you’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“It’s not a pick-up line,” Cooper says through clenched teeth.
Still grinning, Jake asks, “You’re really going to show her the roof?”
“It’s not necessary,” I state. The last place I want to be is in the middle of these two guys’ drama. There’s obviously a lot more going on than just showing me the roof.
Jake leans close to me and I catch a whiff of his cologne. It’s a spicy and masculine. “Why don’t you let me show you the new stage we had built?”
I can feel the heat radiating from his muscular body and I’m quickly reminded by my body’s reaction that I haven’t had sex in over six months.
I gulp. “That’s not necessary.”
I can feel several beads of sweat roll down my forehead. I’m getting hot, and it’s not because of the temperature of the room has changed. It’s Jake’s closeness to me.
I jump from my chair. “I have everything I need.” I feel like waving the papers in front of my face like a fan but I refrain. I just need to get out of the bar and away from Jake. Then I’ll be fine.
That’s what I tell myself anyway.
Cooper rises from the table and gives me an odd look. I wish I could figure out what it would take to make the guy smile but I can’t stay next to Jake a minute longer. He’s like catnip and I’m the cat. I need to escape and get some fresh air.
“Thank you both for your cooperation,” I say.
“You’ll let us know if you need anything else?” Cooper asks.
“I will. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I put out my hand for Cooper to shake.
This time, when he touches me, I make a point of looking into his eyes. They seem to have gotten even darker and deeper in just the last few minutes and that makes me even more curious about him.
Business, I remind myself. You’re here for business and then it’s back to the city.
“It was nice meeting you, too,” Cooper says and once again, he only gives me the hint of a smile.
When Jake clears his throat, it breaks the moment between me and Cooper. I’m embarrassed that I lost control. I’m supposed to be a professional.
I noticed Jake has his hand out and I realize he wants me to shake it. The last thing I want is to do is touch Jake. I don’t want to get caught up in his charismatic web like a fly.
I give him a ridiculous wave instead and I feel like an idiot when he frowns.
“I’d better get going,” I say as I turn and make my way toward the door.
When I look back at the two brothers, they’re both staring at me. I don’t know why that makes me so nervous. I don’t plan on ever seeing either one of them again.
When I’m finally outside, I take in a deep breath of what I think will be fresh air and instead, I’m assaulted by the small of cow manure.
Great. Just great.
I hop into my car and turn the air conditioning up as high as it will go. I take in another deep breath and try to get the stench of cow dung out of my nasal passages. I can’t believe I’m shaking. I’m not sure if it’s because of Cooper or Jake. Maybe it’s a little of both. But I’m definitely rattled.
I just need to get out of Old Town and get back to the city, I tell myself. Then things will get back to normal.
As I put the car into reverse and begin to pull out of my parking space, I keep thinking: I just need to get out of here and get back to the city.
When I step on the accelerator to go forward, I drive right into an old Chevy pick-up truck that’s headed straight for me.

  Meet the Author 

 Romance novelist Savannah Young grew up in rural northwest New Jersey in a place very similar to the fictional Old Town, which is featured in her books. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories, Savannah is traveling to exotic locales or spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds

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cover reveal WHERE YOU ARE, by Alla Kar and Swoon Romance

COVER REVEAL
WHERE YOU ARE
By Alla Kar


New Adult Contemporary
Releasing July 2014
Published by Swoon Romance

  Got boy problems? Call Laney Scott. She's good for advice, a shoulder, or a swift kick where you need it. When her roommate Bethany gets her heart broken, yet again, it's Laney to the rescue. But Laney's harboring a secret. She's nursing her own broken heart. She and her friends come up with a plan to break Aiden and set it into play. Laney wants Aiden to pay for what he's done to Bethany. She will make him fall in love with her, so can break his heart. Laney's ex-boyfriend Lachlan Hems is back in Florida, still Australian and sexy as hell. His best mate Lucas is getting married, and he is in town for the show. He just didn’t realize Laney would be there … in another guy’s arms, or that seeing her again would have such an effect on him. After the incident in high-school, he vowed to never care for her again. But sometimes fate has different plans. When Laney’s resolve crumbles, Lachlan is the only one that can put her back together again. Where You Are is the start of a three-books new adult series from Amazon and Barnes and Noble bestselling author Alla Kar.

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About the Author I go by Alla Kar. I live in the deep south. I love to bring Alpha Males, Southern Gentlemen and sometimes Paranormal characters to life. Website

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Book Blitz From the Boots Up by Andi Marquette

From the Boots Up

Book Blitz

From the Boots Up FINAL 300 dpi

Book Title: From the Boots Up 
Author: Andi Marquette 
Genre: F/F Romance From the Boots Up is a runner-up in the 2013 Rainbow Awards for best contemporary lesbian romance and best lesbian novel. 

Synopsis

Meg Tallmadge has more than enough on her plate. She’s finishing up a college degree, getting ready to apply to vet school, and working another summer with her dad, Stan, on the family ranch in southern Wyoming. He’s managed to get the Los Angeles Times to send a reporter out to do a story on the Diamond Rock, which doubles as a dude ranch. Meg knows the ranch needs all the publicity it can get to bring in more customers, but she’s not looking forward to babysitting a reporter for a week. When the originally scheduled reporter can’t make it, Meg worries that they won’t get a story at all, which is worse than dealing with a city slicker for a few days. Fortunately for Stan and the ranch, the Times finds a replacement, and Meg prepares to be under scrutiny, under the gun, and the perfect hostess. She knows what this opportunity means to her father, and she’s hoping that if it goes well, it’ll ease some of the distance between them that resulted when she came out a few months earlier.
What Meg’s not prepared for — and never expected — is the reporter herself and the effect she has on her. In spite of what she feels, Meg can’t risk the fallout that could result from overstepping a professional boundary. But as the week draws to a close, it becomes clear that not taking a chance could be the biggest risk of all.
NOTE: Contains F/F mature situations.

  Meet the Author

me n hat
Andi Marquette was born in New Mexico and grew up in Colorado. She completed a couple of academic degrees in anthropology and returned to New Mexico, where she decided a doctorate in history was somehow a good idea. She completed it before realizing that maybe she should have joined the circus, or at least a traveling Gypsy troupe. Oh, well. She fell into editing sometime around 1993 and has been obsessed with words ever since, which may or may not be a good thing. She currently resides in Colorado, where she edits, writes, and cultivates a strange obsession with New Mexico chile.


  excerpt

One
May 1999 My weekend with Tex Hollis began when I pulled into the driveway of the Lazy T-Bar Ranch west of San Antonio. I knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary weekend when Tex cast a critical eye over my shorts, t-shirt, and tennis shoes. Two days later, I was as comfortable in jeans and boots as any of the buckaroos who spent their days in the saddle— Meg laughed and tossed the magazine back onto her dad’s huge oak desk. She leaned back in her chair and braced one booted foot on the desk’s edge. “Tex Hollis,” she said, sarcastic. “Sounds like somebody out of a Longarm book.” Stan looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. “And since when did you start reading that?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Davey keeps a stash. He gave me one to read one night, thinking I’d like the ‘plot’.” She grinned wickedly. “The plot was way better than the sex.” His eyes widened and she laughed. “I told Davey that, and he never loaned me another one. I think I ruined one of his fantasies.” She pushed back farther, regarding him mischievously. He cleared his throat. “Fantasy?” “Please, Dad. You’re a guy. You were Davey’s age. You know what guys think about.” His cheeks reddened and he started moving papers around on his desk. “If your mom heard that. . .” he said with exaggerated sternness. “She’d lose her religion because I know about sex. It’d burst her bubble.” Meg moved her foot and let her chair legs fall to the floor with a thump. And then her mom would haul out her Bible and start talking about chastity. “Well, moms were young women, too, and they don’t like to think about their daughters running wild with young guys.” “You mean like Mom did with you?” She asked innocently. The phone rang and he shot her a mock disapproving glare that dissolved into a smile before he answered. “Diamond Rock Ranch. This is Stan Tallmadge.” He clicked the mouse on the computer as he talked. Meg reached across the desk for the magazine and flipped idly through it again before studying the cover. A copy of Spirit, from Southwest Airlines. A pair of worn cowboy boots with spurs stood on a workbench against a log cabin wall. A nice photo, for a stereotype. She glanced up at him. From the conversation he was having, it sounded like the call was another reservation. They still had two spaces available for guests this month and she hoped the spots filled. This sounded like it would drop their space to one. Good. She studied him then, noting the fine lines that spiderwebbed from the corners of his eyes and the deepening creases around his mouth. His hair, once as dark as a crow’s wing, had lightened to gray at his temples, though she often thought about him without the gray, her attempt to prevent him from aging. The magazine cover advertised a story about Montana, and how people could get an “Old West” experience at a couple of dude ranches up there. She’d heard of them, and she wondered how the ranch owners had managed to get covered in Spirit. The Diamond Rock needed more coverage like that. Even more than what they’d get from the reporter who was coming out to bother them next week. She turned the page and a photo of a couple of men on horseback herding a few cattle caught her eye. One of the men looked like her dad. She glanced at him again as he continued to talk, doing the Diamond Rock spiel to the person on the other end. Ranching was in his blood, just like it had been in his father’s and in his grandfather’s before him. No other place on earth would fire his spirit like Wyoming’s Medicine Bow Mountains. Meg knew that, and she knew that if he ever left, it would kill him, just as staying was slowly leaching the years from his bones as it got harder and harder to make ends meet, to get enough paying customers for the dude ranch experience even while he tried to work the ranch with fewer staff. He looked at her, eyes the color of a summer thundercloud, like hers, she’d been told, and gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled and returned to her magazine, but she wasn’t really thinking about the article. She took after her father in demeanor and physical appearance, she knew, and it was a point of contention when her mother had lived there. But it was Stan who had made Irene “pert near crazy” with his stubborn streak and independent nature. Loyal to a fault, but unreachable in the deep down parts of his heart, he’d driven Irene right back to Kentucky nine years ago, when Meg was sixteen. “All right,” he said. “Thanks for calling. We’ll see you next week.” He hung up, satisfied. “Full up.” She grinned at him and placed the magazine back on his desk, relieved. “So when’s that reporter coming in?” He leaned back in his chair and stroked his mustache thoughtfully. He looked like an old-style cowboy with it, especially when he wore his hat and duster. She thought he resembled Wyatt Earp. “Hopefully next Friday, still. I got a call from the editor out there this morning and the writer she wanted broke her leg. So she’s trying to rustle someone else up on short notice.” Meg hid her concern. It was already Wednesday. Next Friday was just over a week away. “Will she be able to get somebody else to come instead?” A story in the Los Angeles Times was too important. They needed the publicity. “She’s working on it.” He tried to hide his own concern, too, but she read it in his eyes. “Might have to delay the story a little bit, if she can’t find anybody on short notice.” “How long?” He gave a little shrug. “She said maybe a couple extra weeks. Then there’s another window of opportunity in July. Which won’t be too bad.” The dude ranching season pretty much ended here by mid-August as fall started creeping in over the mountains. Stan needed this publicity, because it wouldn’t only serve for this summer. It would continue for the next season, and the article would be on the Internet, so they could use it in more of their promo. “Did she say who the reporter might be?” The one that had been scheduled was originally from Idaho, and Meg had talked to her briefly on the phone. She sounded nice, and she’d grown up in a ranching town, so Meg figured she’d “get” the Diamond Rock, and she’d be able to really nail that in her story. “Nope.” He shrugged again. “I’m sure she’ll find someone who’ll do a fine job on the story. It’ll work out.” “Hope so.” He narrowed his eyes then. “And you’ll be damn hospitable. I don’t want to have to be telling your mom why the story that gets published in the Los Angeles Times is about somebody’s bad experience at the Diamond Rock.” “Why would you even think that?” She looked at him, hurt. “I know how you get,” he said, more gently. “You don’t suffer fools and, unfortunately, you’ve got some of your mom’s temper. But in this case, I need you to suffer.” He smiled at her. “No practical jokes on the greenhorn.” Her mother’s voice echoed through her mind. “Damn it, Stan! Would you get that girl in hand?” She sighed. “I’m not sixteen anymore.” “No, but twenty-four ain’t that far off.” “Twenty-five.” “Not yet, missy. Next week. And I can still turn you over my knee. So no bullshit. We need this publicity.” He tried to look forbidding but a twinkle danced in his eyes and she relaxed. “Well, since I’m such a loose cannon, can I not be in charge of the reporter?” She didn’t mind playing babysitter, but if she didn’t have to, that was fine with her. She hoped whoever the Times lined up had at least a little outdoor experience. “The way I see it, whoever they send will be here for a week and they’ll want a ‘full range’ of ranching experience, and they’ll observe and ask questions. They might or might not want a tour guide. And you’ll be an official Diamond Rock liaison, so every day, I expect you to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with the reporter. Just treat whoever it is like a regular registered guest. You’re good with that, hon. They really do like you. Don’t think of it as being under the microscope or something.” “Great,” she said with a sigh. She imagined them all dressed up like on the set of Bonanza and she groaned softly. “I know. It’s kind of a pain in the ass, because we do have to mind our manners even more, and you don’t know for sure what’s going to end up in print. We’ve got to make it so this reporter can’t resist writing a great story about the DR. In fact, we want this reporter to come back every chance he gets. Or she,” he corrected himself. “I know. Don’t worry.” She reached over to the neighboring chair to retrieve her hat. “You don’t think whoever it is will be like the writer of this story”—she gestured at the magazine, “and change your name to something like ‘Slim Thompson’?” She was only half-teasing. He pursed his lips, pretending to think. “I’m hoping for something like ‘Dutch Walters’. And maybe you’ll get to be ‘Cherry Goodnight’.” Meg grabbed the Spirit magazine off the stack of papers and threw it playfully at him. He caught it and tossed it onto the desk, chuckling. “You could change your middle name to Cherry before the reporter gets here. So there’d be some veracity there.” She gave him a look and started to get up. “Your mom called this morning,” he said, as he leaned back in his beat-up office chair. He folded his arms and regarded her with an expression that was a mixture of concerned dad but acceptance for whatever decision she might make. She settled in her seat again, her Stetson in her lap. She rubbed her fingertips over the black felt, waiting. She got her stubborn streak from him, but hers was more pronounced. He’d told her she could outwait a rock. “You need to talk to your mom more,” he said after a while. “She misses you.” She didn’t answer. Instead, she studied the knotted pine wood on the walls behind his head. He waited a few more moments then leaned forward and picked up the copy of Spirit. He flipped through it as she had done earlier. “She’s your mom,” he said, without looking up from the pages. “She’s not really thrilled with me right now, as you know.” She watched for his reaction, but his expression didn’t change. “So don’t talk about that.” “That’s all she wants to talk about. It’s not like I make it a point to advertise my personal life.” “Well.” He set the magazine aside and tugged at the hair above his right ear, something he did when he was really uncomfortable. Meg wished she hadn’t told him, either. Wished she’d never said that the painful break-up she’d endured last fall was with a woman. Since then, he’d struggled with it, and some of their interactions were tinged with an unfamiliar stiffness. “I’ll call her,” Meg relented. “That’s my girl.” He said with obvious relief. “But I drive her crazy. Even on the phone.” Her mom always asked whether Meg was seeing any nice young men at school and Meg would have to deflect those statements or tell her she was still getting over someone. Irene knew it had been a woman because Meg had told her, around the same time she’d told her dad. But since Irene had gone back to Kentucky, she’d found the Lord, and this particular Lord didn’t care much for gay people. Even those in your own family. “She’s still your mom,” he said, tugging on his hair. “Find something you’re both interested in and keep the conversation there.” “Yeah,” she said doubtfully. She stood up and put her hat on. “See you around, Dutchie.” She grinned at him and was out the door before he could toss the magazine after her.   She decided to put off the dreaded phone call and walked instead across the swath of hard-packed earth between Stan’s office and living space and the lodge, which had been the main ranch house before her grandfather had converted it in the fifties to accommodate space for kitchen and dining facilities that could have passed muster in a big-city restaurant. Stan had upgraded it two years ago. New appliances, better shelving, new pots and pans, new dishes. They’d even added a walk-in cooler. Alice, the chef and “Kitchen Queen,” as she called herself, more than approved of the changes. She’d been at the ranch since just before Meg’s mom had left, and she thought of her as family, now, like a favorite aunt. She went in through the front, and the rich, heavy odor of cowboy chili greeted her, along with voices from the kitchen and the sound of a knife chopping something. She blinked in the dim dining room, after being out in the midday sun. Three long tables, decorated with blue-and-white checkered tablecloths, stood parallel to each other in the center of the big room. Each could seat fifteen on the benches, and some summers, they did. On rare occasions, they had to add another table. Meg hoped it was that kind of summer. The more paying guests, the happier her dad was. She wiped her hands on her jeans and checked through the stack of mail on the closest table then went into the kitchen, through the swinging door that separated it from the dining room and entered Alice’s domain, which could rival something in one of those high-end cooking magazines. “Hey, Meg,” said Anna, Alice’s prep cook, as she looked up from the cutting board on the island where she was chopping carrots. “Hey.” Alice emerged from the walk-in. “Hi, sweetie,” she said with a smile that, in conjunction with her swept-up hair, made her look like a glamorous 1940s actress, even when she had her cowboy duds on, as her dad called them. Jane Russell, Meg thought. That’s who Alice looked like, though her hair was a lighter color. She was in her late forties, now, but she was just as pretty as when she’d started working at the ranch. Alice always turned guys’ heads, but she was so down-to-earth that she didn’t seem to notice. “Would you like a sandwich? You missed lunch.” She closed the walk-in door. “Is the chili ready?” she asked hopefully. “Not yet. Let me make you a sandwich.” “Are you sure? I can just—” She raised an eyebrow imperiously. “I am the Kitchen Queen. I have spoken. Go sit down.” She gestured at the counter by the back door. “Yes, your majesty.” She walked around the island and hung her hat on one of the pegs by the door then sat down on one of the stools, her back to the counter so she could watch Alice and Anna. “We got another reservation.” “Oh, good. I know your dad was worried about filling up,” Alice said as she sliced bread. “He said that the reporter that was supposed to come broke her leg.” She stopped slicing bread and looked over at her, concern written in the lines across her brow. “The editor is trying to find another reporter who can come out on short notice.” She went back to her sandwich making. “Well, that’s how journalists operate. They’re used to changes in plans.” Alice finished with the bread and started slicing part of a turkey breast. “How soon can the new one come?” “They don’t know. I guess they’re trying to keep the same schedule, if they can find someone. But they might not be able to. So maybe the next couple of weeks or July.” “Too bad. From what your dad said, the first one sounded like a good match for an assignment like this.” She spread deli mustard on one slice of bread and mayonnaise on the other then placed the slices of meat on the mayo piece and lettuce and tomato on the mustard piece. She’d add her “secret spices” next. “Oh, and I’m not supposed to be an asshole.” Anna snickered and Alice looked over at her, her lips twitching with a smile. She returned her gaze to Meg. “You’re hardly that.” “Dad seems to think I am. He kind of makes me feel like I’m a teenager, still.” “That’s his job as a parent. To make you feel like a teenager the rest of your life. And if it’s any consolation, you’re far from being a teenager. You’re your own woman. Just remember that to your dad, you’ll always be his little girl.” “Then why is he freaking out that I’ll be an asshole to the reporter?” “He’s just stressed, hon. He wants to make a good impression so the story gets a lot of attention.” She went over to one of the refrigerators and took out a jar of dill pickles. “He thinks I have Mom’s temper and he thinks I don’t suffer fools. I guess he thinks if the reporter’s an idiot, I’ll let him or her know.” She laughed. “Nothing wrong with pointing something out, and nothing wrong with a woman having a temper. You just need to learn how to direct it appropriately. And maybe soften the blow.” She retrieved a plate from under the stainless steel counter along the back wall. “Diplomacy, love.” she said. “The art of telling people they’re idiots without making them feel too bad about it.” Anna giggled as she reached for another carrot. Meg grinned. “I guess I might need to work on that a little bit.” “Don’t hurt yourself,” Alice said with a smile. Anna finished with the carrots and put them in a plastic tub that she carried into the walk-in. She had to duck her head, since she was pushing six feet tall. She’d never played team sports, for which her height probably would have served well. She was, however, an excellent barrel racer. “I’m not going to screw this up,” Meg said. It still stung a little, that her dad thought she might. “No, you’re not.” Alice brought the plate over to her. It looked like something out of a food magazine, with the pickle and chips arranged artfully around the sandwich halves. Meg smiled. “Thanks. I love your sandwiches.” She squeezed her shoulder. “Iced tea?” “Yes, please.” She turned so she faced the counter and bit into the sandwich. Alice made the best. “How is it that your sandwiches always taste so good?” She said after she’d swallowed. “Made with love.” Alice winked as she put a glass of tea and a napkin on the counter next to Meg’s plate. “You’re the best-kept secret in the West. Please don’t ever leave us. But if you do, mention the Diamond Rock on your cooking show.” She laughed and went to clean up. “You’re your father’s daughter.” Meg continued to eat, Anna and Alice chatting amiably behind her. When she finished, she took the plate into the dishwashing room then went back into the kitchen where Alice was checking the chili. Anna must have gone into the dining room, because one of the swinging doors was moving. Alice handed her a spoon. “One taste. No double-dipping.” She laughed and took a spoonful, holding it over her cupped left hand so none would spill. She blew on it and tasted it. “Oh, my God. Best. Chili. Ever.” She finished the spoonful and Alice took the utensil from her. “Make sure you tell the reporter that.” “I won’t have to. One taste will prove it.” Alice set the spoon aside and continued to stir one of the big pots on the stove. “He’s still acting weird,” Meg said after a few more moments. She stopped stirring and gave Meg her full attention. “About your break-up with Amanda?” She nodded. “He’ll come around.” “I think he’s hoping that I was just experimenting, and now I’ll go find a boyfriend.” “He also just wants to make sure you’re happy.” She reached up and brushed Meg’s hair out of her face, like a mom might. “Sweetie, your dad loves you more than life itself. But he’s a little traditional in some ways, and it’ll just take him a little bit to get used to the idea. Parents always have expectations for their children, and he’s having to revise some about you.” “I feel like I screwed up. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him.” A knot tightened in her chest, and she hated this wedge that seemed to have come between her dad and her. Alice pulled her into a hug. “You had to. Because this is part of you, and it’s not healthy to keep that all bottled up inside. I’m proud of you, for telling not only your dad but your mom.” Meg groaned as Alice released her. “I’m supposed to call her.” She gave her a sympathetic smile. “You are who you are, and you’re choosing to live your life on your terms.” “She doesn’t like my terms.” Well, it’s not for her to decide, is it?” “She makes it seem that way.” “You’ll get through.” She pecked her on the cheek. “Come and talk to me later tonight if you want.” Meg nodded. “Thanks.” Anna came back into the kitchen and Meg waved at her before she moved to the back door, where she retrieved her hat before she went outside. Across from the dining room and kitchen about thirty yards away stood the two-story structure dubbed “the motel,” modeled after a Northwoods hunting lodge for the guests, its rooms accessible from the outside. Covered verandas sheltered the walkways. Her father lived in quarters just off the office building, also across from the motel, and the hands lived in bunkhouses. All the structures surrounded a large packed-dirt parking area, like wagons circling a campsite. She took the outside steps of the lodge to the second floor, where she lived. She alone occupied this level, unless they had extra guests. Otherwise, she kept the extra rooms closed up. Maybe the reporter’s story would bring them enough business that they’d be able to open these extra rooms. Her bootheels made hollow sounds on the wood and the metal roof of the veranda creaked and popped in the sun. She sighed as she opened the heavy wooden door into her foyer, hung her hat on one of the pegs near the entrance, and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom, where she kept a phone.

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Special Reveal Distraction and Desire by Kizzie Darker


"She was his distraction, he her desire. Joanna woods thought her broken heart would never heal again when Luke ripped her world apart. Upon deciding to take a much needed vacation to Paris, the city of love, would a chance meeting change her life forever? Nathan Jones moonlights as a successful business man but unbeknown to Joanna he secretly works as a C.I.A agent travelling the world, tackling crime. He has already lost one love of his life; will he risk it all when he meets Joanna? Joanna and Nathan have chemistry but will it be enough to make their relationship work? Will Joanna be able to handle the truth when she finds out who Nathan really is or will it end in further heartache?"

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Thursday, March 20, 2014

Cover Reveal REASONABLE DOUBT (#1)

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Title: Reasonable Doubt (#1)
Author: Whitney Gracia Williams
Genre: 3 Part Erotic Romance Serial
Release Date: April 1, 2014
Cover Designer: Najla Qambers of Najla Qambers Designs
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Synopsis
My cock has an appetite.
A huge and very particular appetite: Blonde, curvy, and preferably not a fucking liar...(Although, that's a story for another day.) As a high profile lawyer, I don't have time to waste on relationships, so I fulfill my needs by anonymously chatting and sleeping with women I meet online. My rules are simple: One dinner. One night. No repeats. This is only casual sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. At least it was , until "Alyssa"... She was supposed to be a 27 year old lawyer, a book hoarder, and completely unattractive. She was supposed to be someone I shared law advice with late at night, someone I could trust with details of my weekly escapades. But then she came into my firm for an interview--a college-interninterview, and everything fucking changed...
Excerpt
Her light, airy laugh drifted over the line, and I sighed—attempting to envision what she looked like. I wasn’t sure why, but over the past few weeks, I’d been longing to experience her laughter in person. “You know,” she went on, “for a high profile lawyer, you have a pretty dirty mouth.” “You’d be surprised how much filthier it can get.” “Filthier than what I’ve already experienced?” “Much filthier.” I’d been treading the waters since we began this friendship—still hopeful that we’d meet in person someday, but now that we weren’t, there was no point in holding back. “I guess I’ll talk to you tonight.” “Not unless you find another date between now and then. I know you’ll be searching.” “Of course I’ll be searching.” I scoffed. “Is Alyssa your real name?” “Yes, but I’m sure Thoreau isn’t yours. Do you care to finally give it to me?” “I’ll give it to you when you come to your fucking senses and let me see you.” “You just won’t let that go, will you?” She laughed again. “What if the real reason I don’t want to meet you is because I’m ugly?” “I have a good feeling that you’re not.” “But if I was?” “I’d fuck you with the lights off.” “I prefer the lights on.” “Then I’d make you wear a paper bag over your head.” “WHAT?!” She burst into giggles. “You’re ridiculous! Ugh, there’s a client at my door right now. I have to go. Can I call you later?” “Always.” I hung up, smiling. Then it hit me. Fuck…She always finds a way out of that line of questioning…
About the Author
Author tag
A self diagnosed candy addict, travel junkie, and hypochondriac, Whitney Gracia Williams LOVES to write about characters that make you laugh, cry, and want to (in the case of Selena Ross) reach through your Kindle and slap them. She is the "imaginary bestselling" author of the Jilted Bride Series, Mid Life Love, Wasted Love, and Captain of My Soul. When she's not locked inside her room, feverishly typing away on her laptop, she can be found here: http://www.whitneygracia.com She also loves getting emails from her readers, so if you want to tell her how much you loved (or hated) her stories, email her at whitgracia@gmail.com
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Blog Tour Let Me Go by DC Renee

Title: Let Me Go
Author: DC Renee
Genre: Romance
Publication Date: March 19,2014



Rape. One word changed his life. Mason Tredwell had it all. He was a good looking, well respected doctor. He had money, power, friends, and never worried about finding a woman to warm his bed. But, that all changed when he was wrongfully accused of rape. And now, after five years in prison and the loss of everything he cared about, he wants revenge.

Abandoned as a baby and bounced around different foster homes, Kat Gingham never really had a charmed life. But now, things are really falling apart. She has no money, no job, and even her lying, cheating boyfriend is gone too. She allows herself one night to cry about her situation before she picks herself back up. Kat falls asleep, safe in her bed, but when she wakes up, she’s no longer at home, and she’s no longer alone. She’s facing Mason, a guy who claims she ruined his life. And he’s hell bent on breaking her down, humiliating her, just like she supposedly did to him.

The problem is that she claims she has no clue what he is talking about, but he doesn’t believe her, declaring facts don’t lie.

Is Kat lying? Can she convince Mason to let her go? Or is fate playing a role in why they were thrown into this together?


5 stars 

***** I was provide a copy by the Author/Publisher for an honest review *****

First let me just say that this is the first book that I read from this author.

Wow I just finish reading this book, and I love it LOVE IT, want more love the way the book turned out to be, love the characters I couldn't put this book down, I am gone keep this short cause I don't want to give anything away, but I do have to say this is one book that you need to read.

The story begging with Mason Tredwell, is a doctor he is really good at what he does, he is wealthy and has friends, he lost his parents a long time ago, but that did not stop him to get an education, he love his single life, but all that change one night after being up for so many hours at the ER with no sleep, he was ready to call it a night, that night Kat showed up Manson knew right away that she was on drugs, he refuse to give her pain pills that she was asking for, after he left her he when back to his office only to find that Kat was their, he had security score her out, after that night Kat had accuse him of Rape.

Now five years later he was out and looking for a way to get his revenge. Mason had plan everything out of what he was gone do with his best friend Benny, once he found Kat, one night Kat was worrying about what she was gone do, knowing that she did not have a job and no money she was desperate, that night she decide to drink, after drinking a bottle of whine she though she was dreaming, when she woke up the next morning she had no idea where she was, that was the day that her life change.

I love the way that Mason though about getting revenge, and love the way how Kat took everything and did everything that he ask her to with a big smile on her face. I really enjoy and love reading this book, I love the characters of Benny would had love to read more about him. Author D.C. Renee THANK YOU for introducing me to this awesome characters and this amazing book love it.





About me, huh? Hmmm, let's see...some fun facts: I'm in my late twenties, I'm married to a great guy who likes to drive me crazy sometimes, but I love it and him, I am one of those people that when asked to do something says "No...Yes" (yeah, I know, I'm stuck in the 90's), I am a total nerd (like you couldn't tell), I am a Trojan (Fight On!), I work in health insurance (fun times-well, I actually work with my sis, so I guess they technically are fun times), I am way too close to my fam and I feel like I'm forgetting something, hmm...oh yeah, I LOVE to read and write!!!



1. I hate onions, but I love onion flavored things like Funyuns or onion dip.

2. I can’t mix too many veggies together. For example, I love carrots, but I’ll pick them out of a salad. I don’t like lettuce on my tacos or burgers.

3. I love dancing! (Not professionally, although I have taken plenty of classes over the years.) I supposedly bopped my head to the music before I could walk.

4. I go to Zumba & Latin Jam every week.

5. I played the piano until I was in college. I can read music, but I hated to do so, so I used to play everything from memory.

6. I speak Russian fluently, but I read like a first grader. Don’t get me started on spelling.

7. I work at the same company (and same building) as my sister, so I see her every day. We’re really close.

8. My sister and I have a 9 year age difference (and were born 4 days apart). We used to celebrate all our birthdays together. (Ironically, my mom and her sister also have a 9 year difference.)

9. I was born on groundhogs day (2/2). It’s also my aunt’s birthday too.

10. My favorite number is 22 (hmmm…I wonder how I got that). My husband’s favorite number is also 22 because he was born 1/22.

11. My first stories were Days of Our Lives fan fictions. They are still up on the website under my screen name fan22.

12. I got my Bachelors degree and my Masters degree from the University of Southern California. Go Trojans! (My sister also went there and got the same degrees I did – I guess you could say I followed in her footsteps.)

13. My whole family loves watching hockey, so it’s no wonder it’s my favorite sport. I love the Los Angeles Kings! (Root for the home team always!)

14. I love Bon Jovi and have seen him/them in concert 5 times.

15. My favorite rose is Fire on Ice. It’s white on the outside and red inside, so that when it blooms, it looks like red on white.

16. I was on the show The Great Pretenders when I younger. We were put into groups and dressed up and lip-synched songs chosen for us. I played the guitarist for The Go-Go’s singing Our Lips Are Sealed.

17. I love to sketch as a hobby, but I can’t sketch people at all. I usually sketch flowers.

18. I was my sister’s maid-of-honor at the age of 15. I didn’t get to go to her bachelorette party.

19. My favorite color is blue, so much so that my wedding colors were ivory and blue.

20. I’ve been married for 3 years, but been with my hubby for over 8 years.