Book Review: Newbie by Jo Noelle and Giveaway

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Synopsis

The housing market is crashing, and Sophie’s life is crashing with it. At twenty-four, her successful real estate career evaporates. She’s broke, can’t find a job, or pay her bills, leaving Sophie wondering how her successful lifestyle became so fragile.

At the urging of her roommate, Sophie accepts a job in her fallback career—teaching six-year-olds. She hopes it’s temporary. After all, how long can a tanking economy last anyway? The best part of the new job is Liam, another employee at Rio Grande Elementary. The worst part of the new job is, well, teaching.

Sophie has a surprise real estate closing from a contract she wrote months ago, leading her to a niche in the real estate market and to a new partner, Kevin. Sophie must choose between Liam or Kevin and between a lucrative career or recess duty

My Review

Newbie, is a sweet book, written by Jo Noelle.

The story starts out with Sophie, loving her Real Estate job, being able to dress in awesome clothes and shoes, her favorite, she had just bought a new car as well. Of course when she bought the new car, The real estate market dropped and leaving her with no income. Not sure what to do, she hits the local want ads, as her room mate suggested. She applied to be a first grade teacher for one year. Not an easy job at all.

The story goes on to tell how she got the job and her experience and life as a first grade teacher, and of course the job is not as glamorous as being a real estate agent. A classroom full of first graders and she has no lesson plans, nothing to prepare her for this job.

This book is really good, I love how she describes being a first time teacher, how much she cares about the children and of course the other people in her life, including the man she meets while being a teacher, he works there as well. Things are going as well as can be expected, and Sophie hears from her old boss about coming back, even working part time in real estate. There are a lot of ups and downs through out the story, feels like it could be real life. Sophie has choices to make, will she make the best choice for herself? Well you will have to read the story to find out.
I was provided an ARC from the author.’

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

Cover Reveal; Resist Me, MCCoy Raven brothers and giveaway

Cover Reveal

Hawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon Wate

Book Title: Resist Me (McCoy Raven Brothers, 1)
Author: A.O. Peart
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: August 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Hawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon Wate

Book Title: Reclaim Me (McCoy Raven Brothers, 2)
Author: A.O. Peart
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: December 2014

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Book Blurb

Hawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon WateResist Me – Standalone Book One in the McCoy Raven Brothers series

One fateful morning changes everything.

Lisbeth, the lone spectator of a shocking murder, believes the FBI witness protection program may be the only way for her to survive. But when a powerful explosion reduces the safe house to ashes, killing all of the FBI agents on duty, will she turn to a perfect stranger for help?

Ethan, a former-Marine-turned-firefighter, has never really cared for any woman. He lives his life to the fullest, enjoying the bad boy stigma and cultivating a particular taste for dominant sex. Girls come and go, allowed to stay only long enough to satisfy Ethan’s wild appetite.

One morning at dawn, Ethan’s fire brigade is called to a fatal house explosion that levels the structure. When he pries open a trap door to the hidden panic room located under the house, he finds a gorgeous, though disheveled brunette.

Lisbeth instantly turns Ethan’s world upside down, and he’s overcome by the burning desire to protect her, no matter the consequences.


 

Reclaim Me – Standalone Book Two in the McCoy Raven Brothers seriesHawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon Wate

When the past comes charging back, the choice is never easy.

Abused as a child, Willow Conrad has managed to develop compassion for others early in life. She believes there is some good in every person, even in the “lost souls”. But when Seth, her boyfriend, loses his temper one last time, she is left badly beaten and broken inside.

Jack McCoy has finally grown up. He used to engage in street brawls to release his anger and reassure himself of his own worth. Serving in the Marine Corps and then becoming a firefighter has put his life back on track.

When Jack’s friend asks him to help Willow, he doesn’t hesitate, despite a reckless predicament he narrowly escaped that very evening. But when he stands face-to-face with Willow, he knows his past is back to haunt him.

Will they take the second chance and let not-so-forgotten feelings resurface and blossom, moving past what drove them apart before? Or will Jack relapse into his destructive ways and lose Willow forever?

 

All McCoys_black_and_white

excerpt

Hawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon WateResist Me

I don’t know how long I stood like this, but when I looked around, Ethan was sitting on the log a few feet away, watching me with the tiniest smile on his lips. Did he understand what I was feeling? And for a flitting moment, I believed that we actually gazed into each other’s souls.

He slowly stood up, his eyes locked with mine. Taking a few slow steps, he came very close to me. There was something predatory in his stride, but that didn’t frighten me. Instead, it made me long for his touch. I didn’t move. Ethan’s hands gently ran over my arms. His smile disappeared, and his handsome, masculine features rearranged into an intense, possessive look.

This alone—his expression and his caress—left me breathless, my heart pumping. I froze in anticipation. My lips parted. His right hand came to the back of my neck. His fingers wrapped in my hair, gently tugging my head back until my face upturned toward his. His other hand pressed on the small of my back, bringing our bodies dangerously close.

He kissed me, and I truly welcomed that kiss. No, I actually embraced it.

At first, it was tender, as if he wasn’t sure how I would respond. When I didn’t pull back, his lips skillfully explored mine. His tongue darted from between them, teasing me, testing my reaction. I parted my lips and let him in. He took my mouth with such hunger as if he wanted to kiss me forever.

His sharp intake of breath sent a wave of hot desire through me. I’ve never been kissed like this—so tenderly but intensely and adeptly at the same time. He tasted of mint toothpaste and smelled of a delicious mixture of soap, something musky, and something very male.

I moaned into his mouth. He inhaled again, and his tongue licked deep inside my mouth, sliding over mine, possessing me. This was the sweetest torment I’ve ever experienced. I was lost in this kiss; I was lost in this moment. The feel of serenity and peace I felt just seconds earlier was quickly replaced by sexual tension; by pure, shameless desire.

Ethan pulled away, panting slightly, his expression laced with longing and pain. It sobered me in an instant, and I stepped away from him. I hung my head, taking deep, calming breaths. This wasn’t the way. This shouldn’t have happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve never done that. It won’t happen again.”

I looked at him. “It’s not entirely your fault. I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”

He clenched his jaw and walked away. I touched my lips, swollen from his amazingly devouring mouth. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him, and that he wanted me too.

Oh, that immediately complicated my situation… our situation. Why did I let myself get lost in him? How could I forget the reason I was here with Ethan? Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I was mortified and mad with myself. Now what? Staying with Ethan in the cabin was going to be, mildly speaking, awkward.

Ethan_Meet the Raven


Hawthorne Bridge Across Willamette River by Portland Oregon WateReclaim Me

“Shhh. Go and stand on the stairs right below the landing.”

Without protest, she did exactly as she was told. Positioned to the left of the door, I waited, for more than one minute, keeping my body motionless but ready to spring, if necessary. I sensed Willow’s uneasiness. She had no idea what was going on or what to expect, based on my weird reaction. That must’ve been very confusing for her, but I couldn’t explain now.

And then it happened as I predicted—the apartment door opened just a notch. My core muscles hardened and I kept as far to my left of the door as the adjacent wall allowed. That way, whoever was on the other side would see the area to my right—and their left—first, which gave me a couple of seconds’ advantage before they could notice me.

With my left arm in front of me for protection and my right arm bent, drawn back for more impact and my fist ready, I was in the most optimal position to attack if necessary. But I couldn’t make any move before I knew for sure that the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Rita.

The door creaked a little and opened wider, revealing a stocky, middle-aged guy in a dark hoodie. I stepped in front of him and, in one practiced motion, drew my right arm back farther, clenched my fist, and delivered a powerful upper cut. That should’ve caught him square in the jaw, but he was fast and blocked me with his forearm then countered with a precise punch toward my torso.

Willow screamed. I blocked the punch, twisting at the hips to avoid most of the impact. That in turn drew my assailant forward, throwing him off balance. I took advantage of his momentary unsteadiness and rammed into him with my shoulder, using my body weight to its full advantage. I had at least thirty pounds on him, despite his stocky build, since he stood no more than five foot six.

My shoulder connected with his ear, and I heard him grunt in pain. While he staggered backward, I had a chance to regain my own balance and adjust my stance. He moved with good speed, and by the time I was hurling another punch, he delivered a roundhouse kick, which I managed to avoid by mere inches.

The guy was trained in martial arts, but that didn’t deter me. I spent most of my life learning and practicing various martial art techniques and I was just getting warmed up here.

Another kick, this time a vicious front one, was flying my way, but I was ready. While I bent my knees and tightened my core muscles, I let his foot pass me then grabbed it and yanked forward. The last thing I noticed before he went down was the sheer surprise in his eyes. He clearly hadn’t expected such a dirty move.

As soon as he hit the ground, I was on him, throwing a heavy punch to his jaw. His head snapped to the right, and he was out cold. Blood trickled from a cut on his lip and the spot where I hit him last was quickly turning red.

My knuckles hurt like a son of a bitch. Hitting someone in the jaw was only painless in the movies. I shook my hand, wincing. Willow was right beside me. “Jack, are you okay? Who is this guy?”

I looked at her, grimacing more from uncertainty than from pain. The last thing I needed was for her to see me fight again. That was exactly what broke us apart six years ago. “I’ll live,” I mumbled, worried what her next words might be.

“You’d better.” Her eyes danced all over my face as if checking for injuries. She took my throbbing hand and gently enclosed it inside both of hers. “Let’s put some ice on this. It hurts, doesn’t it?” There was so much gentleness and concern in her voice that I forgot all about the pain and gaped at her in disbelief.

“I called the cops already. Requested the same officers as before. I’ll look for Rita.” She got up and went inside the apartment. She turned the lights on and I heard her call out, “Rita, it’s me. Willow. Are you in here?”

I was still stunned by her unexpected reaction, when the guy on the floor stirred. He was coming around. I rolled him onto his stomach and swiftly pulled his arms back. He groaned and started to thrash, attempting to throw me off. I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his forehead on the floor, twice—hard. He lay motionless, probably unconscious.

I needed something to secure his wrists and ankles together. “Willow! Did you find Rita? I need you here!”

She rushed out of the apartment. “She’s in there, tied up and gagged… and really pissed off,” Willow said breathlessly. “I need to get a knife to cut through that rope.”

“Wait,” I stopped her. “Help me here first.” I pointed to the man. “Take off his boots.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Just do it.”

“But … what do you want his boots for?”

“Shoe laces. Pull them out, quick.”

Comprehension replaced the look of incredulity on her face. A moment later she was tying both laces into one long piece, using a double fisherman’s knot. I stared in awe at her rapidly-moving fingers. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

“Rock climbing.”

She rock-climbed? That was freakin’ impressive. Willow offered the perfectly-joined laces to me. I coiled it around the man’s wrists and secured the ends in a knot that probably wasn’t as perfect as Willow’s, but would definitely do the job.

“Okay, I’ll help with those ropes in a moment. Go check on Rita and find me something to tie his ankles. I don’t want to take any chances of him kicking one of us.” I stood up and dragged the guy inside. When his legs cleared the threshold, I closed and locked the door.

A moment later, Willow returned with a solid-looking leather belt and a box cutter. “Will this work?” She gave me the belt.

I examined it. The leather was thick and the buckle was well-made. I nodded. “Looks solid enough. Thanks.” I wrapped it twice around the man’s ankles and then secured the buckle.

He came around and started to squirm. “What are you doing, asshole? Let me go,” he hissed.

I ignored him. Willow stood silently, frowning.

“Untie me!”

“In your dreams. Lie still.”

I stood up and motioned for Willow to come with me. The guy lifted his face off the floor and looked at her. “Ah, so you’re that little bitch who put Seth in jail. Whores like you should be beaten to death. That’s what you deserve, you fucking thief.”

“Interesting,” I said, “So this is some kind of revenge for that snotface Seth?”

I made a move toward him to shut him up, but Willow grabbed my arm. “Not this time, Jack. Seth’s friends deserve a proper welcome.”

Before I even had a chance to ask what she meant Willow took a vase with a bouquet of wilted flowers from the small hallway table and dumped the decaying plants and dirty water over the guy’s head. She put the vase down and stood with her fists firmly planted on her hips, admiring her handiwork.

The guy sputtered, gasping for air. Dark, slimy pieces of leaves and stems clung onto his face and hair. Baring his teeth, he unleashed an impressive spate of profanities and threats toward Willow, myself, and whoever else he could think of at that moment.

Willow flashed a really nasty grin and, cocking her head said, her tone mocking, “Next time you want to come for a visit, let me know in advance so I can serve something fresher. This was all I had available. I hope you enjoyed it, nevertheless.”

I gaped at her in disbelief. She was actually enjoying herself and didn’t appear at least frightened or ashamed by the man’s nasty comments.

“Now, if you’ll please excuse us.” Willow turned on her heel and pulled me with her toward Rita’s bedroom.

We ignored his shrieks and his feet and head banging furiously on the floor. He kept yelling about his bail money, and how he was going to make Willow pay him back.

“That was classy.” I chuckled, referring to her putrid flower arrangement stunt.

She winked at me. “Glad you liked it.”

“Remind me not to ever piss you off.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Smart ass. I liked this new Willow more and more.

We found Rita on the floor, tied to her bed with a thick rope. Willow had already pulled the gag out of her mouth. “Jack! Help me out, would ya? I need to break that fuckface’s legs and arms.”

“You’re not breaking anybody’s limbs, Rita. Now, tell me what exactly happened.” I said and then asked Willow, “Where is that box cutter?”

Willow produced the blade and offered it to me.

Rita yelled obscenities at the guy again. He lay on the floor right outside the bedroom, while shouting equally colorful atrocities back at Rita.

“Be still, so I can cut that rope.” I kneeled down and began to slice through her bonds.

 

Jack

Meet the Author

A.O. Peart writes romantic comedy, romantic suspense, paranormal, and urban fantasy novels.

Her Bestselling romantic suspense novel Resist Me has been listed as #1 in several Amazon categories and on Bestseller lists, including the Movers & Shakers.

Books in her NA contemporary romantic comedy series Almost Bad Boys were also listed as Bestsellers on Amazon and were nominated by the Indie Romance Convention 2014 for four different categories, including The Best Indie Upcoming Series, while Angela was nominated as Best Indie Author of the Year 2014 http://indieromancecon.com/nominations/.

Almost Matched was voted as #36 among “The 50 Best Self-Published Books Worth Reading 2014” http://www.indieauthorland.com/50-self-published-books-worth-reading-201314-40-31/

Angela lives in the Seattle area with her family and a chronically curious cat Cinnamon. You can often spot her in one of the countless Seattle Starbucks locations, feverishly typing on her computer and sipping coffee with cream—or rather cream with some coffee in it. Don’t be surprised when a paperback you ordered from her arrives “decorated” with coffee and chocolate stains (kidding!)

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

Book Blitz: Love the Way you Lie by Skye Warren and Giveaway

lovethewayyoulie book blitz

Book Blitz

LoveTheWayYouLie-SkyeWarren-500x750

Book Title: Love the Way You Lie
Author: Skye Warren
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: March 12, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

A dark romance about the lies that lead us down…

I’ll do anything to get safe, even if that means working at the scariest club in town.

I’ll do anything to stay hidden, even if it means taking off my clothes for strangers.

I’ll do anything to be free. Except give him up. When he looks at me, I forget why I can’t have him. He’s beautiful and scarred. His body fits mine, filling the places where I’m hollow, rough where I am soft.

He’s the one man who wants to help, but he has his own agenda. He has questions I can’t answer. What are you afraid of?

You.

excerpt

In the first moments onstage, I’m always blinded.

The bright lights, the smoke. The wall of sound that feels almost tangible, as if it’s trying to keep me out, push me back, protect me from what’s going to happen next. I’m used to the dancing and the catcalls and the reaching, grabbing hands—as much as I can be. But I’m never quite used to this moment, being blinded, feeling small.

I reach for the pole and find it, swinging my body around so the gauzy scrap of fabric flies up, giving the men near the stage a view of my ass. I still can’t quite make anything out. There are dark spots in my vision.

The smile’s not even a lie, not really. It’s a prop, like the four-inch heels and the wings that snap as I drop them to the stage.

Broken.

A few people clap from the back.

Now all that’s left is the thin satin fabric. I grip the pole and head into my routine, wrapping around, sliding off, and starting all over again. I lose myself in the physicality of it, going into the zone as if I were running a marathon. This is the best part, reveling in the burn of my muscles, the slide of the metal pole against my skin and the cold, angry rhythm of the song. It’s not like ballet, but it’s still a routine. Something solid, when very few things in my life are solid.

I finish on the pole and begin to work the stage, moving around so I can collect tips. I can see again, just barely, making out shadowy silhouettes in the chairs.

Not many.

There’s a regular on one side. I recognize him. Charlie. He tosses a five-dollar bill on the stage, and I bend down long and slow to pick it up. He gets a wink and a shimmy for his donation. As I’m straightening, I spot another man on the other side of the stage.

His posture is slouched, one leg kicked out, the other under his chair, but somehow I can tell he isn’t really relaxed. There’s tension in the long lines of his body. There’s power.

And that makes me nervous.

I spin away and shake my shit for the opposite side of the room, even though there’s barely anyone there. It’s only a matter of time before I need to face him again. But I don’t need to look at him. They don’t pay me to look them in the eye.

Still I can’t help but notice his leather boots and padded jacket. Did he ride a motorcycle? It seems like that kind of leather, the tough kind. Meant to withstand weather. Meant to protect the body from impact.

The song’s coming to a close, my routine is coming to an end and I’m glad about that. Something about this guy is throwing me off. Nothing noticeable. My feet and hands and knowing smile still land everywhere they need to. Muscle memory and all that. But I don’t like the way he watches me.

There’s patience in the way he watches me. And patience implies waiting.

It implies planning.

I reach back and unclasp my bra. I use one hand to cover my breasts while I toss the bra to the back of the stage. I pretend to be shy for a few seconds, and suddenly I feel shy too. Like I’m doing more than showing my breasts to strangers. I’m showing him. And as I stand there, hand cupping my breasts, breath coming fast, I feel his patience like a hot flame.

This time I do miss the beat. I let go on the next one, though, and my breasts are free, bared to the smoky air and the hungry eyes. There are a few whistles from around the room. Charlie holds up another five-dollar bill. I sway over to him and cock my hip, letting him shove the bill into my thong, feeling his hot, damp breath against my breast. He gets close but doesn’t touch. That’s Charlie. He tips and follows the rules, the best kind of customer.

I don’t even glance at the other side of the room. If the new guy is holding up a tip, I don’t even care. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who follows rules. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about him or letting him affect me. Maybe my run-in with Blue made me more skittish than I’d realized.

All I have left is my finale on the pole. I can get through this.

This part isn’t as physically strenuous as before. Or as long. All I really need to do is grind up against the pole, front and back, emphasizing my newly naked breasts, pretending to ****.

That’s what I’m doing when I feel it. Feel him.

I’m a practical girl. I have to be. But there’s a feeling I get, a prickle on the back of my neck, a churning in my gut, a warning bell in my head when I’m near one of them. Near a cop. My eyes scan the back of the room, but all I can see are shadows. Is there a cop waiting to bust someone? A raid about to go down?

My gaze lands on the guy near the stage. Him? He doesn’t look like a cop. He doesn’t feel like a cop. But I don’t trust looks or feelings. All I can trust is the alarm blaring in my head: get out, get out, get out.

I can barely suck in enough air. There’s only smoke and rising panic. Blood races through me, speeding up my movements. A cop. I feel it like some kind of sixth sense.

Maybe he feels my intuition about him, because he leans forward in his seat.

In one heart-stopping moment, my eyes meet his. I can see his face then, drawn from charcoal shadows.

Beautiful, his lips say. All I can hear is the song.

I’m not even on beat anymore, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because there’s a cop here and I have to get out. Even if my intuition is wrong, it’s better to get out. Safer.

I’ll never be safe.

The last note calls for a curtsy—a sexy, mocking movement I choreographed into my routine. Like the one I’d do at the end of a ballet recital but made vulgar. I barely manage it this time, a rough jerk of my head and shoulders. Then I’m gone, off the stage, running down the hallway. I’m supposed to work the floor next, see who wants a lap dance or another drink, but I can’t do that. I head for the dressing room and throw on a T-shirt and sweatpants. I’ll tell them I feel sick and have to leave early. They won’t be happy and I’ll probably have to pay for it with my tips, but they won’t want me throwing up on the customers either.

I run for the door and almost slam into Blue.

He’s standing in the hallway again. Not slouching this time. There’s a new alertness to his stare. And something else—amusement.

“Going somewhere?” he asks.

“I have to… My stomach hurts. I feel sick.” I step close, praying he’ll move aside.

He reaches up to trace my cheek. “Aww, should I call the doctor?” His hand clamps down on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

I grip my bag tight to my chest, trying to ignore the threat in his words. And the threat in his grip. I really do feel sick now, but throwing up on him is definitely not going to help the situation. “Please, I need to leave. It’s serious. I’ll make it up later.”

He’ll know what I’m saying. That I’ll make it up to him personally. I’m just desperate enough to promise that. Desperate enough to promise him anything. And he’s harassed me long enough that I know it’s a decent prize. I’m sure he’ll make it extra humiliating, but I’m desperate enough for that too.

“Please let me go.” The words come out pained, my voice thin. It feels a little like my body is collapsing in on itself, steel beams bending together, something crushing me from the outside.

Regret flashes over his face, whether for refusing my offer or forcing me that low. But this time he doesn’t let me go. “There’s a customer asking for you. He wants a dance.”

Teasers

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Interview

Can you introduce yourself and tell us what kind of books you write?

I’m Skye Warren, the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance! Thank you so much for the opportunity to share my new release, Love the Way You Lie. It explores taboo themes like betrayal and redemption, overlayed with suspense. If you’re up for something dangerous, disturbing and erotic, take a look…

What is Love the Way You Lie About?

Love the Way You Lie has a stripper heroine and a mysterious lone biker who is first her customer, then her lover, then her… well, you’ll have to read to find out. What you should know is that the book is dark, edgy, and sexy as hell.

This is the first book in a new series set in a strip club called The Grand.

Who is your favorite character in the book?

I love my heroes—their gruffness, their pain, their occasional cruelty. But I have a real soft spot for my heroines. So I would have to say I loved Honey the most. She is beaten down but determined, bent but not broken. For me that’s what strength is about.

What is the hardest part of writing for you?

Nothing and everything. I love the actual writing, coming up with a story and falling in love with them. But reader expectation is such a tough thing—it’s tough in any genre but has particular challenges for dark books. Even the word dark means different things to different readers. But ultimately I can only write the books I love and hope that my readers enjoy them.

What do you love about alpha heroes? Or anti-heroes, if that applies?

Why are these anti-heroes so damn appealing? Well, for one thing, they are tough and driven. They don’t take crap from anyone…even the heroine, sometimes. They often do follow their own code of honor, it just doesn’t necessarily match everyone else’s. But I think it’s something more elemental than that. A man who takes what he wants, damn the rules? Well…it’s plain sexy.

What makes a sex scene sexy to you? Or alternately, what do you do to write hot scenes?

I love a scene I can get lost in, both the physical sensations and the emotional resonance. And what I find most sexy is when power comes into play. Not with games, but where one side has the upper hand, the mingling of distrust and desire, of wariness and want.

What else should readers know about Love the Way You Lie?

There’s also a free prequel to the series coming. The best way to stay up to date about my releases is my newsletter here:

http://www.skyewarren.com/newsletter

Meet the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

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

Cover Reveal: Two Wrongs Make a Right by Ann Everett and Giveaway

Cover Reveal

front

Book Title: Two Wrongs Make A Right
Author: Ann Everett
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 16, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

All Quinn Dorsey wants is a white picket fence fairy tale. But after another failed relationship, and her biological clock ticking double time, she’s decided happily-ever-after isn’t in the Tarot cards. Forget Cupid, it’s time to take matters into her own hands. A simple seduction should do the trick, but then everything that can go wrong…does!

Dak Savage isn’t interested in commitment. He’s been burned by women before – lied to, used, even shot. Hell, he considers women a curse and has one rule he never breaks – don’t pick up women in bars. But when he agrees to a guys’ night out and meets up with feisty, fast talking Quinn, his rule shatters like a dropped shot glass.

A one night stand turns into a long weekend and as Quinn tries to abandon her ridiculous scheme, she finds herself nose-to-nose and toe-to-toe with the best mistake she’s ever made.

excerpt

No need to waste time. She should make a move before the band started their set. Catching the bartender’s eye, she nodded toward her victim. Dave knew what to do.

For just a bit of fortitude, she grabbed a shot from the table and knocked it back, hoping tequila and banana mixed well together. Holy crap. The inside of her nose went cold. At least it opened her sinuses. She turned her attention back to Dave as he delivered the drink. Gasping, her eyes widened. No! Not him…the guy in the plaid shirt. The guy with the dark hair. The guy with the dimples. Holy shit!!! Her throat closed off. The barkeep gave the drink to the wrong man! The stranger acknowledged her by hoisting his glass as if toasting, then faced his friends again. Her heart sank. Now what? She couldn’t go back and buy another drink. She’d look like a slut buying every guy at the bar a beer. This was a disaster. She had to get out of there.

Meet the Author

Ann’s been married to the same man since dirt. She hates talking on the phone. Loves shopping at thrift stores. A really sharp pencil makes her happy, and she’s glad wrinkles aren’t painful.

She lives on a small lake in Texas.

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

Blog Review: Newbie by Jo Noelle and Giveaway

 

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Newbie by Jo Noelle

The housing market is crashing, and Sophie’s life is crashing with it. At twenty-four, her successful real estate career evaporates. She’s broke, can’t find a job, or pay her bills, leaving Sophie wondering how her successful lifestyle became so fragile.

At the urging of her roommate, Sophie accepts a job in her fallback career—teaching six-year-olds. She hopes it’s temporary. After all, how long can a tanking economy last anyway? The best part of the new job is Liam, another employee at Rio Grande Elementary. The worst part of the new job is, well, teaching.

Sophie has a surprise real estate closing from a contract she wrote months ago, leading her to a niche in the real estate market and to a new partner, Kevin. Sophie must choose between Liam or Kevin and between a lucrative career or recess duty.

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Praise for Newbie
Loved this story. I thought it was crisp and funny. Sophie has a great character arch as she goes from the Real Estate world to a classroom of 1st graders. Love Liam. He is a nice breath of fresh air. He and Sophie’s interactions kept me laughing and wanting more. I HIGHLY recommend this novel! ~ Author Sherry Gammon

In recent years I’ve become addicted to Sophie Kinsella’s books. This book reminded me of hers, only cleaner, which I appreciated! It was sweet and witty. Definitely had me laughing out loud. Loved the ending 🙂 ~Goodreads Review

I loved this book! I especially have a tender spot for books with children in them and this story about Sophie being “forced” to teach when the real estate market does so poorly captured my heart. The characters were warm and lovable, the story was fun and I enjoyed every minute of the book. ~Phyllis

I loved NEWBIE. Sophie’s inner thoughts are a delight. She just makes me smile. Her journey as a newbie teacher is real and touching. ~Donna Weaver

 

Jo NoelleAuthor Jo Noelle

Jo Noelle grew up in Colorado and Utah but also spent time in Idaho and California. She has two adult children and three small kids. She teaches teachers and students about reading and writing, grows freakishly large tomatoes, enjoys cooking especially for desserts, builds furniture, sews beautiful dresses, and likes to go hiking in the nearby mountains. Oh, and by the way, she’s two people—

Canda Mortensen and Deanna Henderson, a mother/daughter writing team.

They began writing separately several years ago but found the process much more fun when they started collaborating. They are debut authors, with Lexi’s Pathetic Fictional Love Life as their first completed work. Other titles include Newbie and Damnation.

Deanna attended college before marrying and starting her family.

Canda received a Bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education, a Reading Specialist endorsement, and a Master’s degree in Educational Leadership. Her day job focuses on teaching teachers and children about literacy.

Website * Twitter

 

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Blog Tour Giveaway

$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash

Ends 4/6/15

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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

Sneak Peek Rules of Payne by Elizabeth Lynx and Giveaway

Rules of Payne Sneak Peek

Sneak Peek

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Book Title: Rules of Payne
Author: Elizabeth Lynx
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy (Novella)
Release Date: April 1, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

Morgana Drake has some problems in her life.
Problem #1: She has a boss that is a jerk. Truth be told everyone at her company hates him due to this fact.
Problem #2: Morgana fantasizes and has sex dreams about her awful boss because he is just sooo good looking. She may have done a lot more than fantasize, but please don’t tell anyone.
Problem #3: She wants to get into her company’s Executive Development Program, but there is one thing standing in her way. You guessed it, her boss.
Problem #4: Morgana needs to get laid by someone other than her boss. She feels if she likes someone else she will stop lusting after Henrik Payne.
What happens when Morgana tries to solver her own problems?

Henrik Payne is very serious about his job. He has worked hard for almost fifteen years to become VP of Sales and Marketing and make Mimir the third largest online retailer. He has rules he follows to make sure the company and his life run smoothly.
Rule #1: Know the company from the ground up and the people who make this place great.
Rule #2: Don’t do anything that might negatively affect the company or him.
Rule #3: It’s best not to date women. If he does, they are to be kept at a distance. Emotions cloud judgment and can cause harm to the company if he is with the wrong woman and reveals too much.
Rule #4: Don’t drink. It weakens people’s resolve, makes them act ridiculous and can make them do horrible things. Things that can’t be undone.
So, why does he keep breaking all his rules?

Teasers

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MorganaTeaser

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Meet the Author

Elizabeth Lynx is not a robot, that’s for sure. At least she says she’s not. She is also not a space alien. How do I know this, because she was born in Baltimore Maryland in the 1970’s when no one wanted to be in Baltimore Maryland so why would her parents say that if it weren’t true. Of course she has had her suspicions growing up and is still in a continual search for evidence that backs up her space age theories.

To bide her time she writes about ‘normal’ people and their sexy romantic lives. Her husband chooses to put up with her theories and paranoid musings. Her two little boys help her see that perhaps she isn’t an alien but more of a climbing rock. This theory is new, so she needs more time to develop it further.

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Additional Books by the author

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