Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Release Week Blitz & Giveaway ~ CHRISTMAS COMES TO MAIN STREET (Briar Creek #5) by Olivia Miles




CHRISTMAS COMES TO MAIN STREET
by Olivia Miles
Series: Briar Creek, #5
On Sale: September 27, 2016
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $5.99 USD
eBook: $4.99 USD

The fifth and final novel in Olivia Miles contemporary romance Briar Creek series!

The mistletoe is out, and the gloves are off . . .

'Tis the worst season to be single, but Kara Hastings won't let a little Christmas funk spoil the festive season. Sure, running her own bakery is a little harder than she expected, but she can handle it. And she'll prove it to a certain infuriatingly handsome, bossy Big City guy. She may be sugar and spice, but she can kick his butt twice.

Nate Griffin is in Briar Creek only for the holidays, and he refuses to fall for the whole "small town, candy cane-scented Christmas Wonderland" thing. He's more interested in the fresh-faced cookie chef who always knows exactly how to get under his skin. So when Nate challenges Kara in the town's big holiday contest, it's not just the competition that starts to heat up. If he's not careful, Kara won't just melt his icy resolve against a small-town Christmas . . . she'll melt his heart too.





THE BRIAR CREEK SERIES

MISTLETOE ON MAIN STREET, #1
A MATCH MADE ON MAIN STREET, #2
HOPE SPRINGS ON MAIN STREET, #3
LOVE BLOOMS ON MAIN STREET, #4
CHRISTMAS COMES TO MAIN STREET, #5





Having grown up in New England, Olivia Miles attended McGill University in Montreal, Quebec before settling in Chicago where she lives with her husband, their daughter, and two ridiculously pampered pups.

When she is not chasing after her little ones, she is hard at work creating feisty heroines and alpha heroes with a heart. A city girl with a fondness for small-town charm, Olivia enjoys highlighting both ways of life in her stories.



FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

New Release & Giveaway ~ THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER by Jenny Colgan


THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER
By Jenny Colgan
William Morrow Paperbacks
September 20, 2016
ISBN: 9780062467256; $14.99
E-ISBN 9780062467263; $9.99

Nina Redmond is a literary matchmaker. Pairing a reader with that perfect book is her passion… and also her job. Or at least it was. Until yesterday, she was a librarian in the hectic city. But now the job she loved is no more. 

Determined to make a new life for herself, Nina moves to a sleepy village many miles away. There she buys a van and transforms it into a bookmobile—a mobile bookshop that she drives from neighborhood to neighborhood, changing one life after another with the power of storytelling.

From helping her grumpy landlord deliver a lamb, to sharing picnics with a charming train conductor who serenades her with poetry, Nina discovers there’s plenty of adventure, magic, and soul in a place that’s beginning to feel like home… a place where she just might be able to write her own happy ending.


The problem with good things that happen is that very often they disguise themselves as awful things. It would be lovely, wouldn’t it, whenever you’re going through something difficult, if someone could just tap you on the shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, it’s completely worth it. It seems like absolutely horrible crap now, but I promise it will all come good in the end,” and you could say, “Thank you, Fairy Godmother.” You might also say, “Will I also lose that seven pounds?” and they would say, “But of course, my child!”
          That would be useful, but it isn’t how it is, which is why we sometimes plow on too long with things that aren’t making us happy, or give up too quickly on something that might yet work itself out, and it is often difficult to tell precisely which is which.
          A life lived forward can be a really irritating thing. So Nina thought, at any rate. Nina Redmond, twenty-nine, was telling herself not to cry in public. If you have ever tried giving yourself a good talking-to, you’ll know it doesn’t work terribly well. She was at work, for goodness’ sake. You weren’t meant to cry at work.
          She wondered if anyone else ever did. Then she wondered if maybe everyone did, even Cathy Neeson, with her stiff too-blond hair, and her thin mouth and her spreadsheets, who was right at this moment standing in a corner, watching the room with folded arms and a grim expression, after delivering to the small team Nina was a member of a speech filled with jargon about how there were cutbacks all over, and Birmingham couldn’t afford to maintain all its libraries, and how austerity was something they just had to get used to.
          Nina reckoned probably not. Some people just didn’t have a tear in them.
          (What Nina didn’t know was that Cathy Neeson cried on the way to work, on the way home from work—after eight o’clock most nights—every time she laid someone off, every time she was asked to shave another few percent off an already skeleton budget, every time she was ordered to produce some new quality relevant paperwork, and every time her boss dumped a load of administrative work on her at four o’clock on a Friday afternoon on his way to a skiing vacation, of which he took many.
          Eventually she ditched the entire thing and went and worked in a National Trust gift shop for a fifth of the salary and half the hours and none of the tears. But this story is not about Cathy Neeson.)
          It was just, Nina thought, trying to squash down the lump in her throat . . . it was just that they had been such a little library.
          Children’s story time Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Early closing Wednesday afternoon. A shabby old-fashioned building with tatty linoleum floors. A little musty sometimes, it was true. The big dripping radiators could take a while to get going of a morning and then would become instantly too warm, with a bit of a fug, particularly off old Charlie Evans, who came in to keep warm and read the Morning Star cover to cover, very slowly. She wondered where the Charlie Evanses of the world would go now.
          Cathy Neeson had explained that they were going to compress the library services into the center of town, where they would become a “hub,” with a “multimedia experience zone” and a coffee shop and an “intersensory experience,” whatever that was, even though town was at least two bus trips too far for most of their elderly or strollered-up clientele.
          Their lovely, tatty, old pitched-roof premises were being sold off to become executive apartments that would be well beyond the reach of a librarian’s salary. And Nina Redmond, twenty-nine, bookworm, with her long tangle of auburn hair, her pale skin with freckles dotted here and there, and a shyness that made her blush—or want to burst into tears—at the most inopportune moments, was, she got the feeling, going to be thrown out into the cold winds of a world that was getting a lot of unemployed librarians on the market at the same time.
          “So,” Cathy Neeson had concluded, “you can pretty much get started on packing up the ‘books’ right away.”
          She said “books” like it was a word she found distasteful in her shiny new vision of Mediatech Services. All those grubby, awkward books.


Nina dragged herself into the back room with a heavy heart and a slight redness around her eyes. Fortunately, everyone else looked more or less the same way. Old Rita O’Leary, who should probably have retired about a decade ago but was so kind to their clientele that everyone overlooked the fact that she couldn’t see the numbers on the Dewey Decimal System anymore and filed more or less at random, had burst into floods, and Nina had been able to cover up her own sadness comforting her.
          “You know who else did this?” hissed her colleague Griffin through his straggly beard as she made her way through. Griffin was casting a wary look at Cathy Neeson, still out in the main area as he spoke. “The Nazis. They packed up all the books and threw them onto bonfires.”
          “They’re not throwing them onto bonfires!” said Nina. “They’re not actually Nazis.”
          “That’s what everyone thinks. Then before you know it, you’ve got Nazis.”
With breathtaking speed, there’d been a sale, of sorts, with most of their clientele leafing through old familiar favorites in the ten pence box and leaving the shinier, newer stock behind.
          Now, as the days went on, they were meant to be packing up the rest of the books to ship them to the central library, but Griffin’s normally sullen face was looking even darker than usual. He had a long, unpleasantly scrawny beard, and a scornful attitude toward people who didn’t read the books he liked. As the only books he liked were obscure 1950s out-of-print stories about frustrated young men who drank too much in Fitzrovia, that gave him a lot of time to hone his attitude. He was still talking about book burners.
          “They won’t get burned! They’ll go to the big place in town.”
          Nina couldn’t bring herself to even say Mediatech.
          Griffin snorted. “Have you seen the plans? Coffee, computers, DVDs, plants, admin offices, and people doing cost–benefit analysis and harassing the unemployed—sorry, running ‘mindfulness workshops.’ There isn’t room for a book in the whole damn place.” He gestured at the dozens of boxes. “This will be landfill. They’ll use it to make roads.”
          “They won’t!”
          “They will! That’s what they do with dead books, didn’t you know? Turn them into underlay for roads. So great big cars can roll over the top of centuries of thought and ideas and scholarship, metaphorically stamping a love of learning into the dust with their stupid big tires and blustering Top Gear idiots killing
the planet.”
          “You’re not in the best of moods this morning, are you, Griffin?”
          “Could you two hurry it along a bit over there?” said Cathy Neeson, bustling in, sounding anxious. They only had the budget for the collection trucks for one afternoon; if they didn’t manage to load everything up in time, she’d be in serious trouble.
          “Yes, Commandant Über-Führer,” said Griffin under his breath as she bustled out again, her blond bob still rigid. “God, that woman is so evil it’s unbelievable.”
          But Nina wasn’t listening. She was looking instead in despair at the thousands of volumes around her, so hopeful with their beautiful covers and optimistic blurbs. To condemn any of them to waste disposal seemed heartbreaking: these were books! To Nina it was like closing down an animal shelter. And there was no way they were going to get it all done today, no matter what Cathy Neeson thought.
          Which was how, six hours later, when Nina’s Mini Metro pulled up in front of the front door of her tiny shared house, it was completely and utterly stuffed with volumes.




Praise for Jenny Colgan and THE BOOKSHOP ON THE CORNER:

“Losing myself in Jenny Colgan’s beautiful pages is the most delicious, comforting, satisfying treat I have had in ages.”
   — Jane Green, New York Times bestselling author of Summer Secrets

“With a keen eye for the cinematic, Colgan (Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery, 2016, etc.) is a deft mistress of romantic comedy; Nina's story is laced with clever dialogue and scenes set like jewels, just begging to be filmed. A charming, bracingly fresh happily-ever-after tale…”
Kirkus

 “This is a lovely novel with amazing characters who are hooked on books… at least some of them. The plot is believable and is a joy to read. The main female character, Nina, is the librarian who always figures out the best choice for a patron without fail. Jenny Colgan thinks outside the box and creates a memorable book.”
RT Book Reviews

“This charming tale celebrates the many ways books bring people together”
Booklist

“This light, fresh romantic comedy is the perfect escape for bibliophiles. Enjoy it with a cup of tea on a crisp day.”
Real Simple

“[A] love story about reading and the joys books can bring to people’s lives.”
All About Romance



 Jenny Colgan is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels, includingLittle Beach Street Bakery, Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop, and Christmas at the Cupcake Café, all international bestsellers. Jenny is married with three children and lives in London and Scotland.





Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway ~ My Lord Ghost (Book 2 of the Grace Sisters Trilogy) by Meredith Bond

Meredith Bond My Lord Ghost Release Day Blitz Graphic
Today, we are excited to announce the release of My Lord Ghost, book two of The Grace Sisters Trilogy. Sweet, warm and alluring, My Lord Ghost is the new romantic novel by award winning author Meredith Bond that promises to captivate your heart.
Buy now! My Lord Ghost is available on sale at AmazonBarnes & NobleKobo and Smashwords. Also, read on and find out how you can join My Lord Ghost Giveaway Contest and WIN!
My Lord Ghost by Meredith Bond

My Lord Ghost
The Grace Sisters Trilogy, Book 2
by Meredith Bond
Book Type:  Fiction
Genre:  Historical Romance, Regency Romance
Publisher:  Anessa Books
Publication Date:  September 20, 2016

She only wanted to save his soul. He needed to save her life.

Laia Grace wasn’t raised in society and besides, meeting men was so much fun! But when the naive Regency miss introduces herself to the wrong person, her father decides that it’s time she grew up. If only he knew that the house he was sending her to had a ghost in residence.

Marcus is haunting his own home, living in the secret passages and priest holes while he tries to deal with the horrific events that led to his brother’s death. But when an angel shows up and coaxes him into telling her his story, he discovers a reason to live.

Will he be willing to risk both his own life and his heart to save her?

Grab your copy today!

Available at: 

Join My Lord Ghost giveaway contest!
Get a chance to win A Dandy in Disguise eBook by Meredith Bond (Book One of the Grace Sisters Trilogy) and a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

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Other Books by Meredith Bond

Be sure not to miss Book One of The Grace Sisters Trilogy by Meredith Bond.
A Dandy in Disguise by Meredith Bond
A Dandy in Disguise
The Grace Sisters Trilogy, Book 1
If you gamble with your future, you’re bound to lose. Rose doesn’t realize this when she puts her money down. She’s new to society, and mistakenly thinks everyone is who they claim.Fungy doesn’t know who he is anymore, but Rose makes him want to be the best he can be. But is he the best man for her? A turn of the cards might have the answer.

Meredith Bond Author ImageMeredith Bond's books straddle that beautiful line between historical romance and fantasy. An award-winning author, she writes fun traditional Regency romances, medieval Arthurian romances, and Regency romances with a touch of magic. Known for her characters “who slip readily into one’s heart”, Meredith’s paranormal romances include her Storm series set in during the English Regency, her post-Arthurian fantasy series, The Children of Avalon, and a series of traditional Regencies—without magic—called The Merry Men Quartet. Her newest series, The Grace Sisters, is a spin-off from The Merry Men Quartet. She has also written two non-fiction books: Chapter One: A Fast, Fun Way to Write Fiction and Self-Publishing: Easy as ABC.

Want to know more? Come visit Meredith at her website, http://www.meredithbond.com/ or chat with her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/meredithbondauthor/) or Twitter (@merrybond). If you’d like to be one of the first to know of Meredith’s new releases and get a free short story every month, join her email list here http://meredithbond.com/blog/newsletter-sign-up/
Visit the Official Meredith Bond Website: http://www.meredithbond.com
Connect with Meredith Bond on Social Media: Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Pinterest, LinkedIn, Goodreads, Tumblr
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Monday, September 19, 2016

Release Day Blitz ~ BLACK SHEEP by Tabatha Vargo

BLACK SHEEP IS LIVE!!

 Ever since the day I was dropped at her family’s door

HUNGRY, DIRTY, and TORN,

I’ve wanted her.

But to taint her perfect skin with my black touch would be a SIN.
So I made a pact with myself—

NEVER TOUCH NICOLE PALMER.

However, when she returns home from college, she’s different, and I’m not sure I can trust myself to keep my pact. I can’t submit to her TEMPTATION no matter how sweetly she begs because she’s the GOLDEN CHILD and I’m the BLACK SHEEP.


GET YOUR COPY OF BLACK SHEEP TODAY!




Tabatha is hosting a Facebook party with a group of some of your favorite authors.
Join the party HERE.


HEAVEN AND HELL.

I’d crossed the holy pinnacle and entered a place full of softness, light, and beauty, but while her hands on my skin felt like a miracle, I also felt like my flesh was being ripped from my body. Irrational fear struck me deep.
Nicole would never hurt me—at least not physically. Mentally, she’d fucked me up over the last seven years, but she didn’t know she was doing it.
Still, her mouth was heaven, and the devil didn’t belong in Heaven—I didn’t belong in Paradise. I knew that, but my brain ceased all functions the minute my lips touched hers. I was beyond all rational thinking.
My lips brushed against hers.
Once.
Twice.
Before I moved in for more, losing myself in her so completely, I forgot abouther hands on me. I forgot she was touching my scars inside and out—soothing them and breaking them open again all at the same time. Her lips made me forget all the promises I’d made to myself over the years—made me forget about the pact I’d made with myself.
Never touch Nicole Palmer.
Each strike of her hot breath against my cheek was like an electric shock to my body, and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Her frame felt even smaller than it looked in my grasp when I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. She was soft against my hardness, limp in my arms as she let go with me.
I’d never felt anything like it. Usually, I pinned a girl’s arms above her head to keep her from touching me. Typically, I took control and remained in power, but when my tongue met hers, everything inside me exploded.
Her soft, cautious touch changed, and she clawed at me like a wildcat, tugging at my shirt and pulling me to her as if she couldn’t get close enough.
She couldn’t.
She’d never be close enough.
And while her sudden movements and touches were freaking me out, I wanted more.
I wanted to feel her all around me—beneath me—inside me, lighting all the dark places where I hid my feelings for her—all the dark places where the memories and monsters lived.
Her fingers no longer scared me … they fueled me, forcing my black memories to the forefront and allowing her to slowly destroy each one. She took away the pain and cleared my mind in the strangest, most shocking way.
She tasted like sugar, like melted candy on my tongue as I savored her. My craving for her, the one I’d tamed over the years, grew, as I pulled her to me and thrust my hips. Seeking relief, I rubbed against her, her body feeling better than anything I’d ever felt … even with our clothes between us.
I wanted her.
Hell, I’d always wanted her.
Over the years, in my mind, every girl I’d climbed inside had been Nicole.
My Nicole.
The only girl to ever tame me, and she was clueless about it.
She was leaving me, and I wasn’t taking it well. I hadn’t been okay with the situation since the day she got her acceptance letter to Juilliard. She was a beautiful dancer, one with grace and limbs that went for days, but knowing she was going to New York alone left a sick feeling in my gut.
I couldn’t be there for her. I couldn’t protect her from the sick and demented fucks in the world. I’d go wild thinking about the terrible things that could happen to her while she was hundreds of miles away from me. And while I knew how badly she wanted Juilliard, I also knew how badly I wanted her. How badly the desire to keep her safe burned through me on a daily basis.
She reached between us, palming me through my jeans. Stopping my thoughts completely, her touch caused me to release an agonizing growl into her mouth. I’d had women … too many, actually, but none of them had ever touched me this way. Their fingers had never graced my dick, no matter how badly I wanted it. My mind would never allow it.
It was different with Nicole.
It had always been different with her.
My fingers covered hers, pressing her palm harder against me as I thrust myself into her hand, seeking what I knew I could never have with her. Every second I touched her, I darkened her with my shadowed sin.
Clarity broke through my lust and slammed into me. Tension crawled down my back, tightening my spine and making my entire body stiffen.
It was wrong.
Everything we were doing was wrong.
Her mother and father had taken me in, made me a part of their perfect family, and given me a life I would’ve never gotten without them. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve grown up on the streets, begging for food with only the clothes on my back, and this was how I was repaying them.
By touching their only daughter.
By tainting her with my blackness.
The broken sickness I was born with could be contagious, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was pass it to her—contaminate her perfection. If I ever climbed inside her, she’d never be the same. Her light … I’d extinguish it, bringing her into my darkness. That was the last thing I wanted since Nicole’s light had always been a beacon for me, leading me to do the right thing when the right thing was the last thing I wanted to do.
Bad decisions were in my blood—passed down from a father who ruined me—and touching Nicole was the worst decision I’d ever made. The addiction was instant, and I knew one day I’d overdose on her. Just like my father and his heroin except with more pleasure and more pain.
I pulled back, my body and heart feeling her loss the second I pushed her away.
“Fuck!” I cursed, as I gasped and rubbed roughly at my lips, trying to rid myself of her taste.
I’d never be able to walk away with her flavor on my lips. My craving would never let it happen.
She moved toward me, and I held my hand out to keep her away. I was too weak for her. I’d always been too weak for her.
Her big blue eyes stared up at me, full of trust and lust. Her white blond hair spilled from her bun, curtaining her beautiful face and skimming her flawless skin. She was everything, and I was nothing. The two could never mix.
Rage and disgust slammed into me.
How could I touch her?
How could I taint her perfection with my sin?
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I breathed, trying to catch the air she’d stolen away from me.
“Why not?” she asked, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened from my rough kisses.
I hated myself for marring her delicate flesh with my touch. She was too good, too perfect for anyone, especially me.
“Because I don’t want you that way!” I yelled, not thinking of who else could hear our conversation.

It was the biggest fucking lie I’d ever told...


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