Hard to Regret (Scarlet Bay Romance #1) by Kris Pearson #BookBlast @Krispiewrites @bookenthupromo

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Book Title: Hard to Regret (Scarlett Bay Book 1)
Author: Kris Pearson
Genre: Sexy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 4, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

Heiress Anna Wynn is hiding a secret – a secret that has blighted half her life and forced her to become an unfulfilled over-achiever. Even preparing for her wealthy family’s summer break in their idyllic New Zealand holiday house, Anna has to be all business and is strung tight as piano wire. Finding her bedroom appropriated by an over-muscled, overbearing, testosterone-soaked tower of annoyance is the final straw.

Dragged up under the callused thumb of his dirt-poor father, Jason Jones regrets his choice of security over his dream. His ambition to work as a freelance photographer has been ruthlessly supressed in favour of setting up his own construction company. He has a pre-Christmas deadline looming on the current project, and the last thing he needs is constant surveillance by the owner’s sharp-tongued daughter – or the lure of her hot body and big blue eyes.

Forced to endure each other’s company in the small-town beach house, mutual frustration and undeniable chemistry pull Anna and Jason together for a few stolen days. Enemies become lovers – but how long before secrets are revealed that will change everything?

HARD TO REGRET is the first in Kris Pearson’s new Scarlet Bay series of sexy, funny and heart-warming romance novels and is intended for mature readers.

excerpt

CHAPTER 1 – SAUSAGE ON A FORK

“I’ll do it,” Annaliese Wynn said, heaving her travel bag from the back of the taxi to save the overweight driver waddling out. Finally she’d be swapping her stilettos for summer sandals and solitude, and hopefully winding down from the everlasting treadmill of her life.

As she listened to the waves crashing on the shore of Scarlet Bay, she drew a deep satisfied breath and discovered the delicious aroma of grilling meat wafting on the warm breeze. She glanced at her watch. Someone was barbecuing. At ten-fifteen? She inhaled again. Her tummy gave an unladylike gurgle. The barbecue smelled amazing after her hasty early breakfast of a fresh pear.

Sighing, Anna clicked the bag handle up into place and rolled the case over the cracked concrete path to the old shorefront cottage. This would be her last holiday here before it was demolished to make way for a new, much larger dwelling for her extended family to share. She unlocked the front door and stepped back into her childhood. Faded Indian cotton curtains, Great-aunt Emily’s fussy watercolours (also fading) and… the back door at the end of the hallway swinging wide open!

She stood stock-still, like a cat transfixed by a bird that had just landed unwisely close. Loud masculine laughter billowed in and echoed around the high-ceilinged space.

“Shit, no…” someone said.

“Totally crappy luck,” another man agreed.

“And probably a spoiled little bitch,” a deeper voice added.

Anna released her bag, set down her laptop, and crept the length of the old house on tiptoe, trying to stop her high heels from echoing on the varnished hardwood floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, bursting through the doorway.

Four pairs of eyes swivelled in her direction. Three men stuffed meat into their mouths and chewed.

“Ms Wynn?” the deeper voice asked. The attached male raised a can of cola and took a leisurely swig. Dark eyes locked with hers over the shining can, and she watched his tanned throat constrict as he swallowed. He lowered the drink and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Anna Wynn. Why are you all here?”

Plainly they were the crew from the almost finished house through the hedge. Why weren’t they there instead? And how had they opened the door?

Three sets of teeth continued to chomp. Three pairs of eyes shifted away. The other man set the cola can down with no haste, and stood.

Up and up.

Anna had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact.

He thrust out a large hand as though he expected her to shake it. “Jason Jones,” he said.

He blocked out the light, stole her breath, irritated her far beyond anything that was reasonable.

“We’re having breakfast,” he added in that gritty velvet voice that had queried her name with unmistakeable amusement.

She inspected his fingers for cleanliness before extending her own. His boots were caked with mud, his long, powerful legs were smeared with dust, his khaki shorts had the zipper at half-mast, and there was sawdust all over his garish orange visibility vest. She tried not to ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Breakfast?” She found her fingers enclosed in firm warmth and then held captive.

“Or brunch, if you want to be fancy.” A faint grin teased the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly Anna’s choice of high heels and tailored black silk crepe pants felt ridiculous. Why hadn’t she worn jeans?

She tried to retrieve her hand and he tightened his grip, allowing her no escape.

“We’re on the job by seven in weather like this, and we work hard. We’re ready for more than a sandwich by now. You want a sausage?” Without waiting for a reply he reached sideways with his other hand, speared one from the barbecue on a bent and tarnished fork, and passed it to her.

Of course she didn’t. Nothing was further from her mind. A sausage with a gang of rough builders who had no business intruding into the house? From this over-muscled, overbearing, testosterone-soaked tower of annoyance?

Her traitorous stomach chose that moment to give another loud gurgle, and she gave in to the inevitable, trying to accept the fork without touching him any further. She took a cautious nibble and closed her eyes. She possibly moaned. God, it was good!

“Ketchup with that?” the velvet voice asked, stroking every one of Anna’s nerve endings exactly the wrong way.

Snorts of amusement exploded from the other men and he threw a sharp, “Shut it,” in their direction. She opened her mouth wider and took a more ravenous bite.

“Go for it…” the youngest man encouraged.

“Shut it, Hoolie,” Jason Jones repeated. He turned to Anna. “Doesn’t take much to amuse someone with no brain.”

Anna glared at them all. The youngest one grinned from ear to ear, the other two tried to stifle their laughter, and even Jason Jones had the faintest twitch at one end of his surprisingly gorgeous mouth. No prizes for guessing what they were imagining.

She managed to swallow the mouthful without choking, took a step backward in case it made him look less impressive, and pinned him with her best ‘you’re-an-insect-beneath-my-notice’ gaze. “And I’ll ask you again; what exactly are you doing here? This is my family’s home. I’m staying to do some work for a few days, and I’m not expecting, or wanting, company.”

Jason Jones folded his tall frame down onto a battered white plastic chair and glanced toward the open back porch of the old house. “I arranged with your uncle for us to use the… facilities… there. But some big rocks slid down the hill and bashed the wall in a couple of days ago.”

“No more facilities,” young Hoolie explained helpfully. “No bog, broken basin, only half a shower.”

Anna flicked her gaze into the damaged porch, bared her teeth, and took another bite of sausage – a really savage one – while looking Hoolie in the eye. Her action had the intended effect, and she had the great satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

She tried to suppress a smirk as she chewed and swallowed. “You’ll have to get a Porta-loo then. I don’t want you in the house. How did you get the door open?”

A big hand rummaged in the pocket of the khaki shorts. Anna glimpsed lime green undies through the gaping fly. Lime green? Did the man have no class?

He pulled out a key on a twist of string. James’s key. The little white lighthouse on the end of the string was a souvenir she’d given him on a long-ago holiday.

He swung it to and fro. “Your uncle gave me this in case I wanted to stay over. There have been burglaries from the other house. Boxes of tiles, appliances – and I don’t need any here at mine.”

Why don’t they lock things up more securely?

“So you’re the foreman?”

“Project manager.”

This brought a ‘yeah, right’ from Hoolie, and a tightening of Jason Jones’ features. He glared at the offender and said, “Hoolie’s not worth meeting until he grows up a bit, but the rest of my men are.” He waved an arm in their direction, and the sun glinted on gilded skin and bulging muscle. “Brett Lambourne and Eric Hansen.”

“Pleased to meetcha,” the younger Brett said.

“Yeah, gidday,” balding Eric added, wiping his lips with a crumpled handkerchief and stuffing it back into the pocket of his shorts.

“But…” Anna said. This was absolutely not what she wanted. She shook her head. “I don’t want to share my bathroom with a crowd of men.”

Jason leaned back in the chair and drew a deep breath. Anna found it hard not to stare as his chest expanded, and saw from the set of his jaw that he was making quite an effort to stay polite.

“There are only four of us,” he said in a tone suitable for explaining quantum physics to young children. “And I’ve been telling them to take their boots off. But okay, I’ll order a Porta-loo. I can’t guarantee they’ll have it here before Monday though. Not with the big surf carnival over the weekend.”

“Every bog’ll be busy,” Hoolie contributed.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Annaliese snapped. She took the last bite of sausage and wondered what to do with the fork. A big hand on the end of a long arm closed around it and she let go in a hurry. “Thank you,” she added, a few seconds too late, turning and flouncing back into the house.

“Yep – spoiled little bitch”, she heard Jason say just before the door swung closed. So it was her he’d been talking about as she arrived? He’d already known she’d be staying? She nearly whirled around and gave him another earful, but what would that achieve? It wouldn’t do to make an enemy of the builder. Keeping out of each other’s way would surely be the wisest course.

She inspected the bathroom as she returned down the hallway. Men! Four empty toilet roll inners sat along the windowsill… the tap wasn’t properly turned off… and very dirty handprints decorated the pale blue towel.

Oh well, at least they washed their hands to some degree, and from the lack of mud on the floor they were indeed kicking their filthy boots off before they came inside.

She tried to be pleased about that as she collected her bag and pulled it into the front bedroom – the one with the best and biggest bed.

Someone had been sleeping in it. The cover had been tossed back and the pillow held the unmistakable indentation of a head. A half empty water bottle and an electric shaver sat on the chest beside it.

Jason Jones’ firm, clean-shaven jaw came immediately to mind, and for some reason his gorgeous mouth, and she just knew it would be him. Turning on her heel she clattered back along the hallway and flung the door open again.

“Who’s been sleeping in my bed?” she demanded.

“Big bad bear?” Hoolie suggested.

Brett Lambourne grinned. “Don’t you know your fairy stories, boy? Big bad wolf.”

Eric Hansen threw back his head and managed a passable howl.

“Hell,” Jason muttered. “It was the longest bed.”

“Well, will you move please? It sounded like you knew the ‘spoiled little bitch’ was coming to stay.”

Jason drew another of those devastating, chest-expanding breaths. “Your hearing’s a bit too good, eh? Sorry about that.” He set his can of cola aside and stood. Anna was almost willing to believe he was blushing under his tan.

“Move your stuff out at the end of the day,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to stop you working.” This time she slammed the door behind her so she wouldn’t hear any more smart comments.

meet the author

New Zealander Kris Pearson was born to write – at twelve she completed her autobiography – an easy subject which required no research. It filled a whole school exercise book!

Her first proper job was as a radio copywriter. After living in Italy and London she returned to the capital city of Wellington and worked in TV, radio again, several advertising agencies, and then spent many happy years as a retail ad manager. Totally hooked on fabrics, she followed this by going into business with her husband as a curtain installer. It was finally time to write fiction. In sixteen years she hasn’t fallen off her ladder once through drifting off into romantic dreams.

She writes sizzling contemporary romance, pure and simple. Well, maybe not that pure! They’re sexy stories about modern couples who fall in love and into bed along the way, just like real people do. She’s the author of fourteen novels, three of which were finalists in New Zealand’s Clendon Award. Four have been translated into Spanish.

The most widely distributed is ‘The Boat Builder’s Bed’. She gave away more than two million ebook copies of this to kick-start sales of all her others. Did it work? Beyond her wildest dreams. See them all on her website – http://www.krispearson.com

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“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Trapped by Amanda Lance #BookBlitz @alance07 @IndieSagePR

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Trapped

by Amanda Lance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: New Adult/Suspense
Publication Date: October 28, 2016

Trapped

On the way to investigate a fugitive sighting, 21-year-old news intern Aubrey Kent is injured when an unexpected storm destroys the newscopter—along with the rest of the crew.

Now, stranded in the Canadian wilderness and on the brink of death, Aubrey is rescued by a handsome stranger whose cold disposition is as frightening as the remote cabin in which he lives. With no way to reach civilization before spring, Aubrey becomes Jack Gordon’s unwanted roommate. Her hope for rescue is much more desperate when she sees his hostile attitude and violent behavior.

Aubrey and Jack wait out the winter, they grow closer—their delicate friendship blooming into feelings neither of them could have anticipated. But the weather and the wolves aren’t the only dangers in the mountains. As Aubrey uncovers the reason for Jack’s self-imposed isolation, she realizes she’s closer to the story than she imagined—a story that might cost her life.

 

 Excerpt

“Why are you being so forthcoming?” Jack’s eyes opened to find mine. Apparently, he hadn’t been sleeping, or even trying to. He did shift his position on the sofa and move to stretch out. I followed suit and uncurled my legs from myself before setting my feet on the coffee table.

“It was one of my promises,” he answered eventually. His voice was quiet, but there was a hint of something else there that I was struggling to pick up on. Was it shame or embarrassment?

“One of your promises?”

He sighed before baring his heart to me. “After those first three hours, when you wouldn’t wake up, I started making promises to you. One of them was that, if you woke up, I’d be honest and answer any damn question you asked me.”

I laughed but choked on it instantly, overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m surprised I didn’t spring right up.”

“Yeah,” he said as he returned my smile. “Me too.”

“What else did you promise?” My voice wavered somewhere between hope and fear, but I no longer cared.

Then, miraculously, Jack smiled—really smiled.

“That I’d become a vegetarian. Give up meat forever and ever.”

I giggled hopelessly. “Even ham?”

His sigh was all annoyance, but his smile was anything but. “Especially ham.”

“That’s extreme.”

“Yeah,” he said sadly “But the idea of losing you made me desperate.”

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About Amanda Lance

A native of New Jersey and lifelong nerd, Amanda Lance completed her Master in Liberal Arts at Thomas Edison State College after her BA in English Literature and AFA in creative writing.

She currently resides in Easton Pennsylvania with her boyfriend and their spoiled dogs. She is a cliché booknerd who is terrible at math, clinically obsessive, and prone to addictive behavior. She may or may not be a recluse.

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

DRIFTER by Janine Infante Bosco #Bookblitz @IndieSagePR @JanineBosco

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DRIFTER

by Janine Infante Bosco
Nomad Series #1
Publication Date: November 8, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense

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Synopsis: “Stryker”
I’m a drifter.
A man born to ride through this world alone.
There used to be a time when I thought I was the rescuing type. I enlisted in the Marines and made it my duty—I was going to save lives.
I was going to be a true American hero.
But God had another plan.
Or maybe Satan did.
For everything I touch finds mortality.
I’m no hero.
I’m nothing.
I’m a veteran biker, a former nomad who survived war only to live in hell.
Now I ride with the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn and I’m drifting into a different kind of chaos.
The kind that revolves around a pretty girl with intoxicating green eyes.
A girl who has the power to turn me inside out.
A girl who doesn’t need anyone to rescue her because she’s her own savior.
Until she’s not.
But a man plagued by war and the devil inside him can never be her hero.

Gina Spinelli

Strong. Independent. Fierce.
They are the three things I strived to be.
But sometimes being successful can be lonely.
Sometimes a girl just wants to be a girl and have someone take care of her.
Maybe even love her.
Sometimes the strong become vulnerable.
Or worse, the victor becomes the victim.
Sometimes we lose control or in my case it’s stripped from you.
Defeated. Broken. Haunted.
They are the three things I have become.
In my darkest hour I admit defeat.
In my darkest hour I need one person.
I need him.
Stryker.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***

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Come Meet Author Janine Infante Bosco & Model Matthew Hosea at “Authors In The City” 3.11.17 in Raleigh, NC!

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EXCERPT – The Morning After

Not giving a flying fuck if they kill one another, I leave the two criminals in the living room to duke it out over who has a bigger rap sheet and head straight for my Keurig. They can pull out their dicks and measure them against the wall for all I care—I’ve had enough of the A&E documentary my life has become.

What happened to the normal dating scene? Where a relationship progresses over candlelit dinners, great sex and nights spent watching movies on the couch. Not where the guy you’ve technically never even been on a date with decides he’s going to be your bodyguard because your brother wants to play Al Capone.

Rocco leaves, slamming the door behind him as I take two mugs out of cabinet and fill them with coffee. Turning around, I push one mug across the breakfast nook and lift my gaze to criminal number one.

“So that just happened,” I say, bringing the mug to my lips. “Great way to start the day.”

“I disagree. My day started pretty fucking good since I woke up with you all over me,” he replies, taking the cup I offered him. “Then your brother showed up, and I thought he was your boyfriend.”

“Well, you think very highly of me,” I mutter, setting my mug on the counter before bracing my hands against the granite.

“C’mon, that’s not what I meant,” he argues, flashing me a smile. “We don’t know each other very well.”

“Well, that’s about to change isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. It also seems like you were right about meeting that night in the restaurant. Looks to me like you and I were at the right place at exactly the right time,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

“Watch it, Stryker…you’re starting to sound like a hopeless romantic,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes for good measure. I nearly spit my coffee out when his eyebrows shoot up to the top of his bald head.

“Relax, Romeo. I don’t fall easily,” I assure him, crossing my arms against my chest as I chew on my lip and watch him sigh in a relief.

Men are such pussies when it comes to love.

And the ones who aren’t are the ones a girl like me never finds.

“How’s this going to work? If you plan on moving in with me I’m telling you now, I’m not giving up my closet space,” I warn.

“Not a problem, all my shit blew up yesterday remember?”

I wince.

“Sorry that was insensitive of me,” I reply.

He shakes his head as he sets the coffee mug on the counter but continues to hold onto it.

“I’m not moving in, pretty girl. The clubhouse might be in ruins but my home is with my brothers, with my club. Where that is? I’m not sure yet,” he says, then pauses for a moment and rubs his free hand over his head. “Do you have work today?”

“It’s Sunday,” I tell him.

“Okay, so then tomorrow we’ll start a routine. I’ll take you to work in the morning, check out the area so I know your surroundings and when you’re done, I’ll pick you up. I should have a phone by the end of the day so if you need me during work hours I’ll just be a phone call away. I’m going to need your brother’s number too, in case of anything.”

“You have it all figured out,” I reply, not even bothering to hide the surprise in my voice.

“Nah, I fake it well though don’t I?”

“Extremely. What happens after work?”

He cocks his head, pretending to be thinking but I see the smirk he’s trying to hide and the mischievous look in his brown eyes.

“Well, a man’s gotta eat,” he says.

“Yeah, I rarely cook,” I reply.

“I wasn’t talking about food, pretty girl.”

And there it is.

My cheeks turn cherry red as he wiggles his eyebrows and laughs.

“No comment,” I huff.

“Red looks good on you.” The laughter dies on his lips as does the playful banter and all that’s left is the live wires of electricity sizzling between us.

I lied.

If he keeps looking at me like that I’m going to most definitely fall for him.

I’m fucked.

Clearing my throat, I change the subject in an attempt to resurrect that playfulness I’m starting to crave.

“So, were you ever going to tell me you were in jail?”

“No.”

“Well, now that I know are you going to tell me why you were?”

He brings the coffee mug back to his lips, hiding his smile before he takes a sip. I raise an eyebrow expectantly as he shrugs his shoulders and places the mug on the counter.

“I’ve got a thing for bologna and cheese,” he finally answers with a smirk.

Bastard.

“Good,” I tell him, spinning around to drop my empty mug in the sink before I glance over my shoulder at him and smile sweetly. “That’s what we’re having for dinner.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he laughs, stepping around the breakfast nook. “You know…” He starts as he comes up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist and his hands toy with the belt of my robe, wrapping the end around his wrist. “I’m starting to get hungry,” he whispers against my ear.

“There are eggs in the fridge,” I mumble.

“I don’t want eggs, Gina.” He yanks his wrist back and my robe becomes undone. His other hand moves from my waist and slips between the folds of my robe, spreading it open and exposing my body to his touch. My body melts into his as his fingers glide over my stomach, circling my belly button before inching lower and lower until his fingers are right where I want them.

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Just for fun after you’ve read Drifter and you have found the beautiful in their story take a selfie and tag me! Use hashtag #FindTheBeautiful.

-Author Janine Infante Bosco

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ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO

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Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Kiss My Crown by Alexis Noelle #BookBlitz @EJBookPromos @_alexisnoelle_

Title: Kiss My Crown
Author: Alexis Noelle
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: November 7, 2016
My name is Kate and I’m a princess. 
I had it all. Every little girl’s dream: Working as a princess in a theme park five days a week. Prince Charming and I really hit it off, until he hit every other princess in the park.
After beating him with his own sword I decided it was time to find a normal guy. I met one- or at least I thought I did. 

Now the princesses are snubbing me and the princes won’t even look at me. Worse, I’m about to be demoted to a fairy, which is like being sent to the seventh level of hell.

What do you do when the fairy tale ends?
When happily ever after sucks ass?

“It’s a quick, fun, and sassy ride.” – Two Book Pushers

 

“Alexis Noelle hit it out of the humor park this time around!” – Renee Entress’s Blog

“OMG!!! This book was absolutely amazing!” – Hot Box Reviews

“I freakin’ loved this book! It was so refreshing to read a book filled with humor instead of one filled with a lot of angst and suspense!” – Stephanie’s Book Reports

Alexis Noelle lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with her husband, and three kids. On top a writing career, she is a full-time student and a full-time mom. She loves spending time with her kids, although she has to hide the computer from them when she is writing! She love being active and being outdoors, especially if it involves any kind of shopping.

She has always been passionate about writing. She loves to read romance books and feels like being able to lose yourself in a book is one of the more exciting aspects. The books she loves to read and write will be ones that make you feel for the characters. Ashley believes that you should have an opinion on every character in a book whether you love them, hate them, or think they are up to something.She also believes that the most important critic is your reader, so she loves to hear from the readers. She want her fans to be open & talk to her about what they want for the characters in the story, and what they would like to see happen.

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Five O’Clock Shadow by Heather Knight #BookBlitz @OnceUponAnAlpha

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Synopsis

Aspiring ballerina Amelia Wester’s privileged life fell apart on her 13th birthday when the Yellowstone volcano blew and ended civilization as she knew it. Five years later, she struggles for survival in the bombed-out ruins of Charlotte, North Carolina. Her only friend is a feral cat named Charlie. A life of isolation is her only defense against falling prey to the cannibal element as well as from the other survivors, who are just as desperate as she is to claim the last scraps of food.

Jackson Martell is a security guard at a mysterious place in the mountains of North Carolina known only as The Arc. Five years after the fall of civilization, he’s sent with a group of others to kill off the cannibal inhabitants that now populate Charlotte, NC. A former Cornell student, he dreams of using this assignment to prove himself and rise above the level of glorified security guard. When he spies a young dancer, her graceful performance amongst the shelled-out ruins strikes something deep inside him. Kill her? Not possible. His fascination soon becomes an obsession, and Amelia gains a stalker.

If Amelia can’t remain hidden from the soldiers, the cannibals, and the other survivors, her life will be a short one. If Jackson can’t control his obsession with Amelia, he’ll screw up his one chance at gaining a better future. But fire is fire, and fate is fate, and the stalker and his prey may not be able to resist a future that will destroy them both.

This dark romance novel contains mature situations and sensitive subject matter, and contains triggers some readers may find discomforting. It is a work of fiction and is intended for adult readers 18 and older.

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Heather Knight doesn’t go for billionaires with helicopters or country club fellas who sip Moscow Mules by the pool. She likes her men Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to know. She began reading romance when she was thirteen and apocalyptic fiction during college. She’s combined her love for the two genres in her new adult romance series, which is set shortly after a catastrophic worldwide event. Her books push the boundaries of both romance and erotica and are classified as Dark Romance.

Heather lives in the Mid-Atlantic with her own bad boy and dreams of one day leaving that snow behind forever.

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl