Book Blitz: CLIMBING THE WALLS ( Hart & Cole#1 ) by SACHA T.Y. FORTUNE’!@authorsfortune @XpressoTours

Climbing The Walls
Sacha T. Y. Fortuné
(Hart & Cole, #1)
Publication date: July 28th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

***Real emotion. Real life. Real love. This is NOT a glossy love story. But if you’re looking for a romance read that will rattle you… characters that will change you… and love that will last in your mind long after you’re finished… THIS IS THE ONE FOR YOU.***

Kris fell, head over heels over hormones, for the damaged b*tch who became his power-woman sex-goddess wife.

All Nicole wants is to be a better mother, and a wife more worthy of the husband she loves with every fibre of her body, but she is constantly yanked away by her job and her overbearing boss Darren Hart.

But Darren has marital problems of his own – and, when he confides in her, Nicole realises just how easily a happy marriage can crumble.

…Can she keep her own from doing the same?

Told from both points of view, “Climbing The Walls” explores the fibres that hold a marriage together – love, trust, forgiveness… and of course, the earth-shattering sex that will not be denied.

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More books in the series:

EXCERPT:

(KRIS)

“Whose fault is it that she doesn’t have a husband and kids to go home to?”

“That’s by choice.” I shake my head vigorously, turning on my heel again. My tone drops as I walk into our bedroom. “And to tell you the truth, I’m beginning to see why she made that choice.”

Remembering that the kids are sleeping, I resist from slamming the door. I yank off my tie, almost choking myself in the process. I’m more gentle with my belt, pulling it out and flinging it on the bed with the tie. I throw my shirt into the dirty clothes hamper, sit on the bed and kick off my shoes, pull off my socks, step out of my trousers, pull off my briefs. I hang up the belt and tie on their respective hooks, fling the rest of my dirty clothes into the hamper and head for the adjoining bathroom.

I’m in the shower four minutes later with the steaming hot water coursing over my body when I hear the door creak open. My back is turned in the direction of the door, but I can picture her standing there, the stretched-out neck of my old t-shirt hanging off one of her shoulders, her arms folded across her chest.

“What do you want?” My voice is choked and thick, and the words barely come out. The shower’s doing a magnificent job of sweeping away the tears that would have been gathering at the corner of my eyes. Big boys don’t cry. Men don’t cry. No matter if they feel like shit and want to relive an entire day because they just completely fucked it up and to top it off they just said the stupidest thing they could have possibly ever said in the six long years of marriage.

The shower door slides open, and she steps in. I can feel her magnetic presence there behind me, but it’s not until her arms circle my waist and her breasts press into the centre of my back that I am fully aware that she’s naked, not in my t-shirt like I had previously assumed.

She lays her head there against my back for a moment, and then answers: “You.”

I’ve forgotten the question. It doesn’t matter.

I turn around, lift her up and let her legs wrap around my stomach, her arms around my neck and my hands supporting her weight effortlessly under her ass. She leans her forehead against mine, so that her long wild curls makes a curtain on either side of our faces as we kiss, gently at first and then deeper, with some pressing urgency neither of us can understand.

Her hands clutch at my hair, she’s nibbling my lower lip, I’ve been feeling myself getting hard since her nipples kissed my back but I’m rock hard now and can’t help it, can’t stop it, can’t turn back. She’s always had that effect on me, pushing me to the breaking point before I even realised I stepped into the proverbial door and it slammed shut behind me.

Our relationship has forever been a seesaw of raw emotions, of arguments and bitterness and bitchiness and anger and pain and screams and frustration, fused with the smiles and love and tenderness and sweetness and of course the earth-shattering sex. The more severe the argument, the more powerful the sex. That’s how it always has been.

Not to say that we haven’t had sex when we weren’t spitting mad at each other. No, not at all. Of course not. Christ, no. Just that the post-hatred sex has always been more intense, more passionate. More nerve-wrecking.

The more severe the argument, the more powerful the sex – and we’d just endured two of the most tumultuous weeks of our marriage. So go figure.

And there are no sorrys, no apologies, no retractions of previously yelled insults and jabs, no promises that it won’t happen again because we both know it will. And most likely, pretty soon.

There’s just sex: pure, unadulterated and unprotected sex. There’s arms and legs and water and tile and wall and hair and chests and lips and eyes and bodies clinging together like there’s no tomorrow. My entire universe gets trapped in this bubble of ecstasy; my whole world is the slickness in the steamy little room as our bodies mesh. It’s just us; Kris and Nicole and Nicole and Kris and Kris and Nicole and Kris.

In the midst of it, Kris’ little warning bells shriek, telling him that it’s not healthy to use sex like this, not healthy to quell the argument with sex. It never has been healthy.

But it’s always worked.

And he’s tired of fighting, tired of the stress, tired of the lack of sleep because whether or not he is willing to admit it, Nicole is responsible for his sanity as well as his insanity and his ambition and his drive and every raised pore in his body. He can’t get by in life unless he’s getting along with her because he falls apart and crumbles, crashes and burns out quicker than the shortest fuse. She crawls under his skin, eats away at his insides like acid, and has the power to reconstruct him with the merest hint of a vague smile. She’s always had that effect on him.

And his anger surges and subsides repeatedly as she melts away his rage with her body, as her lips and her tongue and her fingertips work their magic along the hard ridges of his body.

He doesn’t know what to do with her, not sure how the hell he could manage a day without her.

And he’s fully aware that having sex would only be a temporary patch to their relationship, but what the fuck. He hasn’t had sex in three and a half weeks. The Friday night she’d convinced him to let her go to Kiki’s meeting alone, they hadn’t gotten around to the having sex part of the seduction, although Nicole had achieved her goal anyway.

Three and a half weeks. Almost a month. If the cold war had continued another week or two he would have found himself jacking off to a porno. Which he hasn’t done since his early college years. Honestly. Since Nicole, he’s never needed to. And never has. He doubts any other man could honestly say that but he’s honest and he’s a man and it’s not his fault that most other men don’t have Nicole the bitch nymphomaniac for a wife.

And he’s fully aware that sex is not going to cure everything. It’s basically just a first aid kit. The actual process of curing would take ages upon ages, and time was something the Gellars have never been profusely blessed with. So this is the shortcut.

And he’s fully aware that taking this shortcut is absolutely wrong.

But, of course, it’s always the wrong things that feel so damn good.


Author Bio:

Sacha T. Y. Fortuné hails from the twin islands of Trinidad and Tobago in the Caribbean, and she considers herself a “citizen of the world” [Read her “30 Day Truth Challengehere – go to Day 16].

Her passion for writing began in her early childhood, when she channeled her active imagination into writing short stories, poems and full-length novels for her friends.

The winner of several writing awards during her childhood, she became the President of the Writers’ Guild at Lancaster University in Lancaster, UK, where she contributed some poems and short stories to Lancaster University’s Writers’ Guild Anthologies during 2005-2007.

With her BA in Media & Cultural Studies under her belt, she went on to complete her MA in International Journalism at the University of Westminster in London, UK.

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Book Blurb:

She was my enemy

I was her new captor….

She was the enemy…a tiny little temptress of a woman that made my blood sing for vengeance. I should be punishing her…breaking her from the inside out after finding her in my father’s clutches.
But when I discover the truth that she is just as much as a victim of my father’s wrong doings as I am I can’t follow through.
I know then that I can’t break my little mouse…not after she’s lured me in with her big blue doe eyes, and strawberry blonde hair, and those pink painted lips that beg to be kissed again, and again.
I don’t think things can get any better…but then she makes me an offer I can’t refuse… her body, her virginity, and her complete submission, and she wants only one thing in return: help finding her sister.
What she fails to realize is that even after helping her find her sister I can’t just let her go she knows to much, she’s become a liability…but I have a plan to make certain she’ll never leave or escape me.
A plan that involves filling her womb with my filthy seed until I make certain a piece of myself sticks, a plan that will make her the Queen of the Rossi Empire.

**This is book three in the series but it can be read as a complete standalone. It is a full length novel that contains NO-CLIFFHANGERS, NO CHEATING, and has a HEA. It is a dark mafia/crime romance and contains subject matter not suitable for all readers. **

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Marcus the Magnificent, the world’s newest up-and-coming magician and the internet sensation.

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However, striving to learn everything there is about this man, I realize there is much more to him than his mysterious abilities. He moves through life surrounded by people, yet none of them know who he really is. Cut off from his past, he doesn’t fully know it himself.

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About Marina Simcoe

Marina Simcoe likes to write love stories with characters who may or may not be entirely human. She firmly believes that our contemporary world could use a little bit of the extraordinary!

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Title: Master of Sin

Series: Gods of Vegas #1

Author: Sienna Snow

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: March 13, 2019
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He was the right man for all the wrong things.

It was always him…The one I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t crave, the one who could destroy my carefully built life. 
Hagen Lykaios was the essence of sin, indulgence, and danger – everything I knew to avoid. 
All it took was one unexpected touch, and he consumed me, left me begging, needy, and hungry for more. 
He said if I entered his world he would corrupt me, own me, and change all that I had ever known…and you know what? I went anyway.

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Book Blitz: RETURN ( Fable Ranger Book 2 )by A.L. BROWN!@albrownwrites @RABTBookTours

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Fable Ranger, Book 2
MG Fairy Tale, MG Fantasy
Published: February 2019
Publisher: Dingbat Publishing
 
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Casey is home! But not for long…
Casey’s short-lived return to the real world is followed by a rapid scramble back to Lorealia to tackle Dovetail and more of his mischief. This time, it’s a family affair — not just to save the missing godmothers, but to rescue her sister Leslie as well.
Snow White is now Snow Leslie, trapped in an off-script fairy tale that’s doomed to spiral into a never ever after with the rest of Lorealia if Casey, her father, and Charlie-boy fail their mission to stop a war.
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Other Books in the Fable Ranger Series:
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Summons
Fable Ranger, Book 1
Publisher: Dingbat Publishing
 
Take care what you wish for. You just might get it.
Twelve-year-old Casey doesn’t think life could get any more unfair. Plans for her special basketball tournament are tossed aside by her sister’s wedding plans. She even has to be a bridesmaid now, with all the lace and silk and—oh, the horror! All she wants is an escape, but she never imagined she’d be swept away to a world of Mother Goose rhymes, fairy tales, stories of Arabian Nights, and oh, by the way, all but one fairy godmother has been kidnapped.
Casey learns she’s been summoned as the Fable Ranger to lead the search and rescue of the missing wish-makers. But she’s not the hero they want. In the world of fairy tales, damsels aren’t meant to swoop in and save the day.
Now all Casey wants is to go home, but the veil between worlds is on lockdown. Taking fate into her own hands, she embarks on an airship flight to find the phoenix tears that can open her way home. Her journey would’ve gone as smooth as the perfect layup if it weren’t for that pesky bounty the evil Dovetail has placed on her head. But if Casey fails, the Arabian Nights will disappear forever—and leave her trapped in a world unraveling one fairy tale at a time.

EXCERPT:

Explaining things would be hard, but I had to make them understand. No telling what evil plans Dovetail had brewing — worse yet if he’d already put them into action. I didn’t know why he wanted to bring Lorealia to some spiraling, awful happily never after, but he seemed bent on making it so. Dad and I needed to get back there quick, fast, and in a major hurry to keep it from happening.
Oh, Frankenstein. Please believe me. Here goes. “This is going to sound weird, but I was summoned by mistake, I think. Or maybe not. Still unsure about that part. It has to do with the book of Lorealia.”
“Isn’t that the book you read to us all the time, Dad?” Leslie asked, interrupting me. “The one with the Mother Goose rhymes, fairy tales, all kinds of legends, and everything? That’s just a book.” She waved her hand, dismissing my words.
Dad opened his mouth to speak but clapped his lips shut. From the way his brows stitched together, I could tell he was struggling to find the right words. I understood his pain all too well.
Leslie looked from Dad to me then back to Dad again, giggling nervously. “It is just a book, right?”
About the Author

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Angela Brown is a lover of books – from classics to steampunk and everything in between. She’s published Neverlove and They All Fall Down of the Shadow Jumpers series, Frailties of the Bond and Atone of the NEO Chronicles, and Beacon, a YA urban fantasy dystopian published by Evernight Teen publishing.
As A.L. Brown, she dove into the world of middle-grade storytelling with the release of Fable Ranger Summons via Dingbat Publishing, an MG fairy tale mash-up where it takes more than a wish to keep the legends of Arabian Nights and Sleeping Beauty from spiraling into disastrous never ever afters. This tale concludes with its now available sequel, Fable Ranger Return, where tackling Dovetail’s mischief and saving missing godmothers becomes a family affair.
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Spencer Hailstorm.

Leather pants? Check.
Tormented soul? Check.
Rock star extraordinaire? Check.

He’s the guy most women would pay to have break their hearts.
Except me. I already know how hard it is to get over him.
Spencer made me believe in the notion of a soulmate at the age of seventeen. By twenty-three, he made me realize you could only truly hate someone you once loved.
Some people change your world. Some people let the world change them.
Unfortunately, Spencer turned mine upside down.
Twice.

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EXCERPT:

Georgia Anne


I hoped that next line of blow made the arrogant, womanizing, all-around-grade-A-asshole keel over.
Go ahead and judge me, but that was exactly what I wished for when mega-watt rock star Jag Steele—who also happened to be my rocker boyfriend’s idol—leaned over to get his next fix.
Maybe hoping for sudden death was harsh, but the past year in Hollywood had made me cruel. Plus, I knew someone at that party had Naloxone on them. . .so the fucker wouldn’t die. It would just ruin his stupid, cockstar party.
At one point in life, I wouldn’t have wished bad things on that conceited manwhore snorting rail after rail next to Spencer. But that version of Georgia Anne was long gone. Just like the guy who once loved her in a way that would have made Shakespeare jealous: unconditionally, undeniably, and without fault.
You see, that boy who used to wear second-hand clothes and write love notes to me on gum wrappers had been destroyed when he became the lead singer to the multiplatinum rock band, Midnite Kills.
Devoured.
Digested.
And spat out in designer clothing.
The Spencer I fell in love with six years ago wouldn’t have fought with me in the car on the way over, since he wouldn’t have had cocaine hidden in his pocket. But that boy was lost somewhere between playing in bars and playing in arenas. While his eyes may have still been the same turbulent blue that reminded me of an ocean after a storm, the Spencer who loved me more than life itself was MIA, and for what?
A gunmetal Porsche, a slut-red Maserati, and a house in the hills.
To some that may have sounded like the jackpot, but what people on the outside didn’t realize was: Hollywood came with a packaged side of bullshit that was nothing but a glorified death wish.
Sure, Spencer wore those tight, black Versace shirts with collars that dipped low enough to reveal his colorful chest tattoos like a second skin, but fame was a four-letter word, a virus that was slowly killing every part of me, every part of him. Each last piece of us.
“Man, it’s my birthday. Come on. . .” Jag elbowed Spencer in the ribs, and, like a puppet, Spencer leaned over the table. A strand of dish-water blond hair fell from his messy bun when he took a hit.
“Really?” I groaned.
Jag’s gaze landed on me, his pupils blown wide. “It’s my birthday, princess. Give him a break.”
I patted Jag’s hollowed cheek while Spencer sniffed the drug back. “Go fuck yourself.” I pushed off the couch.
“Georgia Anne. Babe!” Spencer staggered to his feet.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
That shouldn’t have been enough to make him sit right back down beside the devil, but it was.
Music thumped through the sound system while I moved through the sea of models and rock stars, the actresses and socialites all in their clicks crowding Jag’s expansive living room. I skirted around the waitresses wearing little black dresses and red stilettos carting trays of drinks and cocaine on their shoulders, with no intention of going to the bathroom. All I needed was point five seconds away from the shitshow that was my life, which was why I headed straight to the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the Beverly Hills mansion.
The lights of Los Angeles glittered below like tiny jewels strewn across sand, and for the first time in my life, I would have given anything to be back in that valley where life was somewhat sane.
Placing my palm and forehead to the cool glass, I wondered how much longer I could hold onto this speeding car before I either had to let go or inevitably wound up in some horrific, fiery crash?
“Champagne?” One of the waitresses halted beside me. The glasses on her tray clinked together.
I could have downed every drink on that silver platter, and it still wouldn’t have been enough alcohol to make that party bearable, but I snagged a flute of champagne anyway. The strand of effervescent bubbles danced along the curved glass. After two sips, I turned around.
Women had congregated around Spencer and Jag, staring, swooning. Touching. And both guys seemed oblivious to it all.
Three selfies in, Spencer’s gaze landed on me, and I quickly looked away, focusing instead on one of the black and white prints of Jag’s naked girlfriend that decorated the walls. I downed my drink, and turned back to gaze out the window.
Seconds later, an arm wrapped around my waist. Warm lips pressed to my neck. “You okay, babe?”
Our gazes locked on our reflection in the window. “I told you I didn’t want to come.”
“It’s not good to stay cooped up in the house.” Another kiss and his hands slid to my hips. “That dress looks good on you.” His warm breathed fanned across my throat.
As mad as I was, as empty as I felt from what we had lost, my body reacted to his touch. Like a woman stranded in the desert, I was thirsty for his affection. For his touch. And I gave in for a moment, tilting my head to the side in the hopes the path of his lips would continue farther.
“It’s just hard.” I swallowed and fought the anxiety winding through my chest. “Smiling when there’s still a gaping wound.”
“I know.” His soft lips pressed below my ear. “We can go if you want.”
God, how I wanted to go, but before I could answer, one of the label’s assistants grabbed Spencer by the elbow. “I need to steal him. Just for a moment.” She grinned at me. Her collagen-plumped injected cheeks inflated like balloons. I just wanted to take something and pop them.
Spencer’s arm untangled from my waist. He took a thoughtless step away before moving back to give me a quick kiss—as if I were an afterthought. The taste of whiskey and mint lingered on my lips. And just like that, we were no longer leaving, and the last bit of hope I’d desperately clung to frayed and snapped like the thread of a well-worn sweater.
Halfway across the room, the assistant grabbed Jag and led him and Spencer to group of giggling, star-struck girls in the corner of the room.
I took a deep breath.
The temptation to take the glass in my hand, smash it on the floor, and cause a scene fit for daytime television was strong. After all, when in Rome. . .
A boney elbow nudged my side. I pushed the emotions down where they belonged. Unnaturally round boobs spilled out of a low-cut, sequin dress. I’d seen Jag’s girlfriend a handful of times, but River and I had never spoken. She flicked her white-blonde hair over her shoulder. “You’re Spencer’s chick, right?”
I watched both Jag and Spencer scrawl their signatures over the chest of a busty redhead. “Something like that,” I said, my pulse ticking up by the second.
River’s gaze strayed across the room just as Jag pretended to motorboat the redhead for a picture. Spencer stood beside him, his gaze aimed at the floor.
River sighed. “It’s part of it, you know. Hollywood girlfriend 101: grin and bare it. The tabloids love to make us out to be jealous, raging psychos.” She laughed, then patted my back. “Just know, the first time he cheats, he doesn’t mean it. It all kinda goes to their heads. He’ll get high or drunk or both, and end up backstage with some girl who just wants to suck his dick. One thing leads to another. . . It’s impossible to avoid, really.”
The sad truth was, from what I’d seen, most of these guys were unfaithful. But Spencer was not most of these guys. . .was he? “I’m not worried about the girls,” I said, sounding more certain than I felt. “We’ve been together since we were teenagers.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” The smile of pity she gave me caused my stomach to twist. “Maybe the guy he was before wouldn’t have cheated, but he’ll never be that guy again. Trust me. I’m three years in on the fame train. You just have to decide what you can manage.”
The guy he was before ricocheted through my head like a stray bullet. Panic tore at my throat. There was so little left of the guy he was before. Maybe I was more naïve than I wanted to believe.
Jag strutted past, full of swagger in his leather pants and messy, jet-black hair, with one arm wrapped around a barely legal girl’s waist. His hand crept toward her ass, and he didn’t even glance at River. My gaze swung to the opposite side of the room where Spencer took selfies with a revolving door of girls.
I swallowed. “And what did you decide you could manage?”
“Oh. You know.” River dug a pharmacy bottle from the glitter-covered clutch in her hand. One tap. Two. A few cylindrical, blue pills fell into her palm. She offered me one, but I shook my head. After tossing them into her mouth, she snagged a glass of champagne from a nearby table and downed them.
“It’s give and take.” She shrugged. “He sleeps with a pretty blonde, I get a new Gucci bag.”
Designer handbags in exchange for one-night stands? No way in hell.
“Think about it,” she said, snapping her clutch closed. “Our guys have thousands—millions—of women throwing themselves at them. How could you possibly expect them not to slip up once and a while? It just comes with the territory, honey.”
That knot in my gut grew tighter and tighter.
“But, the thing to remember, all those other girls,” she said, nodding to the women flocked around Spencer. “They’re insignificant. Besides, gods don’t play by the same rules as mere mortals, babe. And we are dating gods.”
But I had never wanted a god. I only wanted Spencer.

 

Goodreads Choice Awards Finalist Stevie J. Cole

 

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Stevie J. Cole lives deep in the woods of Alabama with her sexy hubs and two precious daughters. She has an obsession with penguins and English chocolate and is terrified of clowns.

Her solo books offer you all the feels you’ve come to love in a warm, pretty romance with happily ever afters, while her co-authored books with LP Lovell take you on a thrilling ride of suspense and danger with a nice little kick of love.
***

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HOOK SHOT, KENNEDY RYAN’S Deeply Emotional Standalone Set in the Worlds of Professional Basketball and High Fashion, is coming March 28th!@KennedyRyan1

I play for keeps.

Hook Shot, Kennedy Ryan’s deeply emotional standalone set in the worlds of professional basketball and high fashion, is coming March 28th!

 

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Audiobook Release: April 30th

Divorced. Single dad. Traded to a losing squad.

Cheated on, betrayed, exposed.
My perfect life blew up in my face and I’m still picking up the pieces.
The last thing I need is her.
A wildflower. A storm. A woman I can’t resist.
Lotus DuPree is a kick to my gut and a wrench in my plans
from the moment our eyes meet.
I promised myself I wouldn’t trust a woman again,
but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Lo.
She’s not the plan I made, but she’s the risk I have to take.

A warrior. A baller. The one they call Gladiator.

Kenan Ross charged into my life smelling all good, looking even better and snatching my breath from the moment we met.
The last thing I need is him.
I’m working on me. Facing my pain and conquering my demons.
I’ve seen what trusting a man gets you.
I. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.
But he just keeps coming for me.
Keeps knocking down my defenses and stealing my excuses
one by one.
He never gives up, and now…I’m not sure I want him to.

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Book Tour + Giveaway: THE RUNAWAY by PETER J. THOMPSON!@pthompsonbooks @RABTBookTours

 

The Runaway Updated Tour

 

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Thriller
Publish Date: 01/31/2019
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A corrupt corporation. Ruthless assassins. Will the family that runs together… die together?
Zach Monaghan just became a target. Under witness protection from his father’s whistleblowing, his reckless desire to win back a normal life compels him to run away. But escaping his new identity won’t last long if two contract killers catch up to him…
Richard “Birdman” Byrd has worked hand-in-hand with his tormentor Gorski for years. Siphoning away money and sending assassins to hunt down the Monaghans could be his only way out of the crooked partnership. But if Birdman doesn’t watch himself, the verbal abuse he’s received for years could turn deadly.
As the ruthless killer draws closer to Zach, surviving the greedy corporate plot may force the whole family to get their hands bloody…
The Runaway is a fast-paced thriller with dizzying twists and turns. If you like non-stop action, high-stakes tension, and large casts of compelling characters, then you’ll love Peter Thompson’s gripping novel.
Buy The Runaway to join a thrilling race against time today!

EXCERPT:

Zack. That was what they called him. Jack Freaking Sullivan. Close enough to his real name, Zach Monaghan, so he’d remember it, but every time someone called him Jack, he felt like a phony, a fraud. The worst thing was, he had to answer
by the name at home too. He’d lived as Zach all his life, and now even his mom was calling him Jack. When she remembered anyway. It pissed him off.
Zach pulled his baseball cap lower on his head and stepped
through the doors of the Greyhound bus terminal. His T-shirt clung to his back, and he wasn’t sure if the sweat was from nerves or the overpowering Phoenix heat. He stood, knees weak, hands trembling, unable to believe he was finally doing what he wanted with his life— returning home, to Chicago. At last he didn’t have to do what his parents told him to do. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, doing whatever they said without complaint. At almost sixteen, he was plenty old enough to make his own decisions and his own choices. He thought of Lindsey and smiled. In just a couple of days, he’d see her again. Without meaning to, he laughed out loud but quickly stopped and covered his mouth. Standing by himself, laughing like an idiot was a sure way to attract attention.

Zach glanced around the terminal. Along the front wall, behind a long counter, several ticket agents stood in front of computers, display boards behind them showing the bus schedules. He shuffled toward the ticket counter, stood in line, and reached into his pocket to make sure he still had his money. He’d cleaned out his savings account the day before. All his birthday money, everything he’d earned from mowing lawns and shoveling snow back home, and from his summer job working at Dad’s old company. Money intended for his college education—close to three thousand dollars—was now divided between his pocket and an envelope at the bottom of his backpack.
The line moved quickly, and it didn’t take long for one of the ticket agents to motion him over. Zach ordered a one-way ticket to Chicago. He was afraid the ticket agent would ask him questions or make some comment about his age. At five foot nine and one hundred forty-five pounds, he wasn’t exactly the biggest kid, but with his wide shoulders, he could probably pass for at least a year or two older. He readjusted the baseball cap, covering his reddish-brown hair, and took a pace forward. The ticket lady barely glanced at him, punched something into the computer, and announced the price. Zach glanced behind him to be sure no one was watching, then pulled the money out of his pocket and counted out exact change. She handed over the ticket and told him the bus would be leaving within the hour.
Simple as that. Why had he been so worried?
Zach found a seat toward the back of the room where he could keep track of what was going on. He reached for his cell phone before remembering, again, his parents had taken his away when they moved and refused to replace it—even though everyone else in his class had one. The kids probably thought he was Amish or some- thing. He took the old iPod from the top of his backpack, slipped his earbuds on, and sat back to wait. The rush of excitement hit him again, churning his gut and making his pits sweaty. He couldn’t wait to step on the bus and get out of town. Arizona, probably the hottest, grimmest, grimiest, most boring place on earth, could go to hell. 

 

About the Author

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Peter Thompson grew up on the east side of Chicago, in the shadow of the steel mills where the air was sooty and smelled of sulfur. His life wasn’t always so gritty, but the grit and realism find its way into his thrillers. He has always loved stories of every kind, and one of his joys is finding a way to get inside character’s heads, seeing the world as they see it and feeling their triumphs, pain, and fear. He visualizes his characters when he writes, and they are larger than life in the big screen of his imagination.
Before pursuing his passion and becoming a full-time author, he tried his hand at everything from factory work, breaking cement in a construction crew, running his own pizza shop, and he was a well-regarded presence in the mortgage industry for nearly thirty years. When he isn’t writing, Peter loves, spicy food, live music, and exciting and thought-provoking books and movies. He is a fitness buff who loves to spend time with his grown sons and is looking forward to traveling the world and seeking adventures with his lovely partner.
To get in touch, find out more about future projects, please stop by authorpeterthompson.com. Sign up for his reading list to find out about new releases andreceive free perks.
 
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GIVEAWAY!

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Release Blitz: TIE ME DOWN ( Arizona Heat Book 1 ) by KATE DOUGLAS is Now LIVE and on Kindle Unlimited!@KatieDouglas21

Will Lawson be the one to keep Alana safe?
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BLURB:

“Maybe it’s just pregnancy hormones but I really want to lick him.”

I’ve ended up in a huge mess… my ex-boyfriend Jimbo wasn’t the dark soul with a heart of gold I thought he was. He knocked me up and then knocked me about. And when he tells me that I can’t keep the baby, it’s time to get out of Seattle.

A fainting episode in a gas station in the Arizona desert leads me to Lawson. A real life cowboy who runs his own ranch, Lawson is easy on the eyes. Muscles… everywhere. Huge package. Those little diagonal indentations that make a big arrow straight to his… toolbox.

But I’m not safe… it seems that Jimbo is still looking for me. Is Lawson the one who can protect me? And more importantly, can he convince me that he’s the man to tie me down?

ADD TO YOUR TBR http://bit.ly/2SC86mG

About Katie Douglas

USA Today and worldwide number 1 bestselling author Katie Douglas is the sort of incorrigible British girl you’d find at St Trinian’s. She recently quit her job as a school librarian in China to write steamy romance full-time, and loves reading and writing books filled with steamy alphas with hearts of gold. She prefers cozy diners to fancy restaurants, coffee or whisky to champagne, and sometimes she adults.

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Teaser Blitz: FROM BREATHAND RUIN ( Elements of Five Book One ) by New York Times Bestselling Author CARRIE ANN RYAN Will Be Here March 19th! @CarrieAnnRyan @InkslingerPR

 

FROM BREATH & RUIN by Carrie Ann Ryan is coming in just ONE WEEK! Are you ready for an amazing new YA fantasy series? Find out more below and preorder your copy today!

 

 

About FROM BREATH AND RUIN

Available March 19, 2019

In her YA debut, New York Times bestselling author Carrie Ann Ryan dives into a world with magic and sacrifice with the Elements of Five.

Five hundred years ago, the Maison Realm was shattered, divided into warring kingdoms of elemental Wielders with fate and truth shadowed and uncertain. Now, factions of both the light and dark venture into the human realm in search of the prophesied Spirit Priestess who is said to Wield the Elements of Five and bring the two fractured kingdoms together.

Lyric has no idea that there’s a realm outside the human one she lives in. When fate and circumstances are pulled from her hands after an accident, and she finds out that nothing is at it seems.

There is a war surrounding her and when Lyric realizes that they are searching for her, she must rely on those she once trusted: a boy who isn’t who she thought, and a new realm of warriors who have come to protect her as she trains.

For the darkness is coming, and the Queen of Obscurité wants to ensure that the King of Lumière can’t get his hands on Lyric. And the only way to ensure that is if Lyric herself is no more…no matter the cost to prophecy.

Preorder your copy of FROM BREATH AND RUIN now!

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Amazon Paperback https://amzn.to/2q4vcBL

Audio (Read by Bailey Carr):

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iTunes Coming Soon

Add FROM BREATH AND RUIN to your Goodreads shelves!

 

About the ELEMENTS OF FIVE series

One thousand years ago, there was one realm of magic. The Maison Realm. It held five kingdoms with five kings or queens, who worked together to keep the Maison people safe and ensure the balance of magic. Over the last five hundred years following the Fall, the great war that began the fracture, many of the kingdoms’ inhabitants intermated, and the magics soon became tied to one another in pairs. Except for the Spirit Wielders. The two remaining kingdoms are now converging, and the veil between the two is fading. Only the human realm lies between the two, and no one there knows there is a war surrounding them.

Over time, certain children of the Fall began to leave their respective kingdoms to venture into the human realm in search of the prophesied Spirit Priestess who is said to wield the Elements of Five and bring the two fractured kingdoms together. For the realms are dying without their sister magics. And soon, there will be no more power left to rule the kingdoms, for there will be no more kingdoms left to rule.

breath teaser

 

About Carrie Ann Ryan

 

About Carrie Ann Ryan

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 3.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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Elements of Five Series FBC