Maniac by Nina Auril #ReleaseBlitz @givemebooksblog @NinaAuril

 

Title: Maniac
Author: Nina Auril
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 17, 2018

 

Blurb
The Maniac
Things I should have
watched out for:
The redhead with her
face buried in her phone.
The pixie who made
me feel more alive than the speeding blue Shelby underneath me.
The girl more
intense than the music and crowds I surround myself with.
The cure to all the
demons from my past.
The one with the
boyfriend who loves her.
But I didn’t, and
now she has to watch me one more time. In a race for my life, and hers.
The Cure
Things I should have
seen coming:
The stupid red
balloon.
The road all my
wishes led me down.
The 6ft hulk with
the easy smile.
The maniac who rages
both on the track and off it.
The one who doesn’t
care that I have a boyfriend who loves me.
But I didn’t, and
now I have to watch him one more time. In a race for his life, and mine.

 

 

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Author Bio
A new secret author duo team up under the pseudonym, Nina Auril. They bonded over their love for ‘maybe’ bad boys, offbeat and colorful females, and a desperate need to stand out from a crowd. Having spent so much time with each other, they finally decided to collaborate and create something amazing to write the kind of stories they want to read. Nina Auril can’t be categorized, and will surprise you at every turn but promise to get your lady bits tingling every time.
Author Links

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

Night Shift by Carey Decevito #BookTour @BuoniAmiciPress @ItalRT4u

Title: Night Shift (Night Shade 2)
Author: Carey Decevito
Genre: Contemporary Erotic
Romance/ Romantic Suspense
Release Date: January 9, 2018
Cover Designer: Clarise Tan of CT Cover Creations
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

A serial killer…

A past that haunts no matter how much the distance…

Which one will strike first?

Eighteen deaths over eight years has left Shane Peters itching to find his mark. The death that started it all ensured his obsession with the murderer who had turned his life into a living hell, leaving him to raise a newborn daughter on his own.

Starting over wasn’t the easiest thing, but Emberlyn Roth had managed by shear grit and the skin of her teeth. It’s too bad one can’t outrun their past.

A protector of the wronged, Shane is torn between his duty as a detective for the Jacksonville PD and a quest to find himself some peace. Red tape binds his capabilities and moonlighting as an investigator for Nightshade Securities has him feeling stretched thin. Late nights on the streets and his sense of duty keeps him from being the father he wants to be. Throw onto his already rickety house of cards, an attraction to the mysterious Emberlyn, the lead he’s got on the murderer he’s been hunting for nearly a decade, and threats his woman is receiving by an unsavory character from her past, and he’s seriously tempted to take Dalton Kipper’s offer to join his team in a permanent basis.

Rules have a place, but when you’re faced with losing the one that means most to you, lines can become blurred. With the fate of his family’s future hanging in the balance, he’s ready to risk it all.

Emberlyn

The man’s gaze was intense. “Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked him.
“You seemed a little tweaked this morning. I saw you on your front step.”
He made to approach me, which caused me to back up, right into the side of his desk, knocking a slew of papers and the file they’d been tucked into on the floor.
“Shit!”
Hurrying to my knees, I started rallying everything up in a pile when I felt Shane kneeling next to me.
“Let me. You shouldn’t–”
I took a closer look at the shots of random pieces and froze, studying them.
“What? What is it?” he asked. “Do those look familiar?”
“They just remind me of something I once wanted to try and never have,” I told him. “A photographic mosaic.”
His body went rigid. “A what?”
“A photographic mosaic…or photomosaic,” I explained. “It’s when you take different images of the same size and compile them together to make a larger picture. Kind of like a puzzle, because each image has to be in the right color scheme to make the larger image true.”
“You’re shitting me, right?” he asked.
“Well, no,” I said, then inquired further. “How many pieces do you have?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’d have to pull my files for the last eight years to know for sure. Do you know how to do these photo…”
“Mosaics?” I supplied. He nodded. “I’ve been wanting to try. Most people do these on computers these days, but I’ve seen them done by hand in a few galleries I’ve visited since I moved here.” I studied the photos closer, then moved to inspect the next one in the pile in my hands, and gasped, dropping everything I held onto the floor.
“Emberlyn,” I heard Shane say, but I was too busy processing the shock of what I saw. “Ember,” he tried again.
“Shane! Ember! Dessert’s ready!” Nora called out, but I couldn’t respond, closing my eyes to try and imagine something beautiful to replace the horror I’d just seen.
“Give us a minute, Mom. We’ll be right in.” I felt his hand grab my chin, gently tilting my head until we were face-to-face. “Look at me, Emberlyn. Look at me right now!”
That worked.
My eyes snapped open, and I realized I wasn’t breathing; the dark spots slowly clouding my peripheral vision.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe with me.” Shane put a hand of mine on his chest, covering it with one of his as his other remained at my chin.
“T-that’s the woman…” I swallowed the bile in my throat. “She was found dead in…Oh God!”
“Don’t talk. Just breathe, baby.”
Something in me snapped, and my body jerked, filling with cold dread and even chillier memories. “Don’t call me that!”
Shane’s grip on me retracted as if I’d touched him with a cattle prod. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t call me that,” I repeated at a whisper. “It’s what he used to call me.”
“Who?”
That’s when I realized I’d said too much.
Jumping to my feet, I backed toward the front of the house, stuttering, “I-I have to go.”
“Wait!”
I shook my head, swallowing what I knew would be my dinner coming up to greet me again. I didn’t want to be here when it did. “I’m sorry. Tell your mom and Rosie thank you.”
Turning, I rushed out of the Peters’ residence as if my hair was on fire, barely making it to my front bushes before my stomach revolted, turning the wonderful dinner that Shane had put together into plant fertilizer.
What I didn’t expect were the steel bands that would come to wrap around me while I sobbed.

Shane

“Is everything okay?” Mom had run into the den as soon as the front door slammed shut. “What happened, where’s Ember?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got to go after her.” I couldn’t explain because I didn’t really know the whole of it myself. “Can you look after Rosie? And don’t let her come in here. I’ll clean this up when I get back.”
She nodded, a distraught expression entering her gaze as she peered at the mess around me. “Okay, baby,” she choked.
I winced. “Mom–”
“Go,” she said. “You need to go. I’ll go check on Rosie.”
Nodding, I hurried out the front door, catching sight of Emberlyn hunched over one of her bushes, her back and shoulders heaving violently.
Fuck!
I didn’t hesitate. Rushing to her, I wrapped my arms around her middle and held on to the sobbing woman, who in turn began to scream like a banshee.
“Let me go! Help! Someone–”
My hand snapped up to cover her mouth, and I bent my head to the bucking woman’s ear. “Shh,” I whispered as she continued to fight me. I got a kick in the shin, causing me to groan. “It’s Shane, Ember. It’s me. I’m here.”
Her body went slack, but shock set in almost immediately and she began shaking like a leaf, her sobs resuming.
“Let’s get you inside, sweetheart.
She didn’t argue. In fact, she didn’t say anything or physically acknowledge me.
Bending down to pick up the tiny purse she’d dropped to the ground, along with her keys, I made to pick her up in my arms.
“I-I can walk,” she said, teeth chattering.
“Okay,” I said softly. “How ‘bout you hold onto me and we’ll take it slow. I’m not liking your color right now.”

I didn’t realize how extreme her fear was until I’d closed the door behind us, and attempted to usher the woman toward where I knew the living room would be, but she shrieked a, “Lock the door!”
After that task was done, we made our way to the couch.
Emberlyn quickly backed into the armrest, curling her knees up to her chin. I grabbed the throw off the back of the sectional and draped it over her.
“Let’s get you a glass of water,” I told her, heading toward the kitchen.
In case you were wondering, this wasn’t my first time inside this house. I’d been here plenty while growing up, but it sure had changed. Emberlyn had put her mark on her grandmother’s old place, and it was a warm and pleasant one with a more modern flare to it. I approved.
Glass in hand, I set to run the water until it was nice and cold, filling it from the tap.
When the floor creaked beneath my feet, Emberlyn jumped, panic in her eyes until they settled on me. She melted into the cushions almost immediately with palpable relief.
She didn’t waste time, grabbing the glass from my hands, chugging its contents immediately. I took the glass from her and settled it atop the one coaster I saw on the coffee table before crouching down in front of her.
“Better?” I asked. She nodded. “Want to talk about it?” She shook her head, no. “Do you want me to leave?” Another shake. This had me standing to sit next to her, but not too close, since I didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable than she clearly was.
That plan was squashed as soon as my ass met the cushion and she launched herself at me.
“Whoa! Calm down, sweetheart. You’re okay,” I whispered my reassurance into the side of her face, one arm wrapped around her back, her legs over my lap, and the other sifting into her hair. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled the pin that held her hair together, chucking the thing onto the coffee table, and resumed stroking her.
For a long moment, we sat together, neither of us saying a word, when so much remained to be said. Then she opened up.
“He used to call me baby,” she told me what I already knew. “My husband…that’s what he’d call me, when he tried to gain my forgiveness after he’d beat me.” My blood began to simmer. “Trevor and I had a very volatile relationship. I would do everything he asked of me, and he’d never be happy. I learned to be subservient to him early on. Mouthing off only got me punished. So I did what I had to until I could get out. I just didn’t do it fast enough.”
“Sweetheart, I know,” I said against her hair.
“You know?” she whispered, she pulled back so she could look at me, then realization must have hit her. “You’re a cop, of course you’d know.”
“Detective.” I smirked.
Her brown scrunched up. “Huh?”
“I’m a detective. I wouldn’t know about your case, but since my girls have been spending time with you…I just hope you’re not mad that I looked into you.”
“No.” She forced a smile, but it was nice seeing something other than tears in her stormy gray eyes, despite my apprehensiveness to her reaction that I might have overstepped my bounds with her past. “You have a daughter…a family to protect. I’d have done the same thing.” Settling in against my front again, her hand came up to lay on my chest. “Thank you, Shane.”
Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I rasped, “You’re welcome.”
Then silence enveloped us once more—not awkward—comfortable.

Something stirred me awake, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was until I saw a blanket being draped over me.
“I’m awake,” I husked.
“I’m sorry. We fell asleep, and–”
Grabbing her wrist to stay her movements, I did an ab curl to sit up. Emberlyn’s free hand sifted into my hair. She was standing between my legs, looking down as she massaged my scalp. Fuck, it felt good. I closed my eyes to enjoy the intimacy of the moment. So much so that I gripped her hips.
“I should go,” I whispered, my eyes opening to meet hers.
“Yeah.”
“It’s late.”
“Uh-huh.” Her head bobbed up and down with her words.
This made me smirk, and confess. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Rosie’ll need her father tomorrow morning,” she rationalized.
“Fact, but it still doesn’t make me want to go.”
Her smile showed her pleasure at my words. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Pinky swear. Go home, Shane. Your family needs you.”
That had me smirking. “If you need me, you know where I’ll be.” I pushed her back, so I could get up, I curled my hands around the sides of her face, bending it forward so I could touch my lips to her forehead. “Walk me out?” When my feet hit her front step, I gave her one last assessing gaze.
“I’ll be fine.” She giggled nervously. “Thanks again.”
I smiled, then bent to kiss her cheek. “You’re welcome again,” I whispered, then left, but not before I heard the clicks of her front door locking.

Born and raised in small town Northern Ontario, Canada, Carey Decevito has always had a penchant for reading and writing.

More than a decade later, with weeks of sleepless nights, where exhaustion settled into her everyday existence, she finally gave in and put pen to paper (more like fingers to keyboard!) She submitted to the dreams that plagued her. And the rest, as they say, is history!

A member of the RWA, Carey enjoys spending time with family and friends, the outdoors, travelling, and playing tourist in Canada’s National Capital region. When life gets crazy, this contemporary erotic romance author seeks respite through her writing and reading. If all else fails, she knows there’s never a dull moment with her two daughters, her goofy husband, and cat who she swears is out to get her.

She is the author of both The Broken Men Chronicles and Nightshade series.

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

#Starstruck (#Lovestruck, #1) by Sariah Wilson @sariahwilson #ReleaseBlitz @BuoniAmiciPress

Title: #Starstruck (#Lovestruck, #1)
Author: Sariah Wilson
Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Romantic comedy
Release Date: January 16, 2018
Cover Designer: Micheal Rehder
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

With one uncharacteristically sassy tweet to her longtime celebrity crush, Zoe Miller’s life turns upside down. Ultrahot A-lister Chase Covington doesn’t just respond to Zoe’s tweet, he does the unthinkable: he messages Zoe directly. Now she must decide between walking away or meeting her crush in person.

Chase knows better than to trust anyone from the Internet, but Zoe’s saucy challenge has totally caught his interest—and her girl-next-door personality is keeping it. He’s been burned enough to know he needs to keep his heart close. But his feelings for Zoe might be a lot more than just an online flirtation. He just has to convince her…

When the press gets wind of Zoe and Chase’s secret relationship, their romance turns into tabloid headlines. Will they be able to hold on to their Hollywood love story?

“You must be Zoe Miller. I’m Chase. Covington.”
He added on his last name like I wouldn’t know who he was. It was kind of endearing. I stared at his hand until the girl on my right nudged me and I gave him mine. A zap of raw electricity sparked at his touch, his hand warm and strong and big. It shot up my arm and spread all throughout my body making every part of me tingle.
“Hi Chase Covington.” I don’t know how I was able to form words. Or how I hadn’t dissolved into an incoherent, blubbering pile of Zoe goo.
“Hi Zoe Miller.”
We were still shaking hands, which was basically holding hands at this point as it had gone on for so long. He was just grinning at me, like I was some long-lost friend he was excited to catch up with.
I didn’t want to imagine what my slack-jawed, overwhelmed face looked like. He would probably think I was an idiot.
A guy with dark brown hair and wearing a Bluetooth device in one ear came over. “Chase, Marty wants a word.”
Chase finally let go of my hand. “Thanks, One-F. Stick around Zoe Miller. There’s more to say.” He walked backwards a few steps, like he didn’t want to stop looking at me. With a wink he finally turned and headed over to the director.


Hollywood boulevard sign, with palm trees in the background

Bestselling author Sariah Wilson has never jumped out of an airplane, never climbed Mt. Everest, and is not a former CIA operative. She has, however, been madly, passionately in love with her soulmate and is a fervent believer in happily ever afters–which is why she writes romance. She has published many happily ever after stories. She grew up in southern California, graduated from Brigham Young University (go Cougars!) with a semi-useless degree in history, and is the oldest of nine (yes, nine) children. She currently lives with the aforementioned soulmate and their four children in Utah, along with three tiger barb fish, a cat named Tiger, and a recently departed hamster that is buried in the backyard (and has nothing at all to do with tigers).

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

Dirty Deeds by Stella Rhys #ReleaseBlitz @givemebooksblog @stellarhys

Title: Dirty Deeds
An Irresistible Series Standalone
Author: Stella Rhys
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 4, 2018
Blurb
ALY
It’s been twelve years since I’ve seen him, but loathing Emmett Hoult
still runs in my blood. Thanks to the hell he wreaked on my teenaged life, I’ve
avoided the prick like the plague. But desperate times call for desperate
measures, and after a fire destroys my apartment during the most important week
of my life, I’m suddenly as desperate as they come.
Hence the roommate situation.
It’s his summer home. His family said he wouldn’t be around. They said
I’d never run into him.
But oh, did I run into Emmett Hoult.
And in the worst way possible.
EMMETT
I didn’t expect to see her ever again, let alone the way I
did.
But now that she’s back in my life, I’m not screwing things
up. She still hates me – I know that – but it won’t stop me from chasing
the only two goals I’ve made for this summer:
Making things right.
And making her mine.
Purchase Links
99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Stella Rhys is an author of contemporary romance and can’t
help but write it hot, steamy and borderline filthy (just kidding, it’s just
flat-out filthy). Writing aside, she lives for coffee, the Knicks, the Yankees
and cooking recipes way out of her league. She was born and raised in New York
and now lives there with her husband and charmingly entitled fur babies.
Author Links

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TWITTER

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

Uncharted by Julie Johnson #ReleaseBlitz @givemebooksblog @AuthorJulie

 

 

Title: Uncharted
Author: Julie Johnson
Genre: Survival Love Story
Release Date: January 10, 2018

 

Blurb
“When we
crash-landed on the island, I thought my story was over. Turns out, it was
about to begin.”
He was an asshole
from the first moment we met.
I took one look at
the stranger in the airport terminal and knew he was exactly the kind of man my
mother spent seventeen years warning me against. Gruff, grumpy, and far too
good-looking to stare at without experiencing heart palpitations.
Thankfully, I’d
never see him again.
Or so I
thought.
I couldn’t have
known our plane would crash.
I couldn’t have
predicted we’d be the only survivors.
I couldn’t have
ever, in my wildest dreams, anticipated that the asshole from the airport would
become my only source of solace in the darkness.
It’s so wrong to
want him, for so many reasons. But as the months slip by and our hopes of rescue grow dimmer… the
spark between us kindles into something impossible to ignore.
Sometimes, survival
requires swimming in uncharted waters. But if salvation doesn’t come soon…
I might just drown
in him.
** UNCHARTED is a
full-length standalone story of survival and forbidden love. Due to action elements,
adult language, and sexual content, it is recommended for readers ages 16 and
up. **

 

Purchase Links
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KOBO / iBOOKSAvailable at B&N soon

Trailer

 

Author Bio
JULIE
JOHNSON is a twenty-something Boston native suffering from an extreme case of
Peter Pan Syndrome. When she’s not writing, Julie can most often be found
adding stamps to her passport, drinking too much coffee, striving to conquer
her Netflix queue, and Instagramming pictures of her dog. (Follow her:
@author_julie)

She published her debut novel LIKE GRAVITY in August 2013, just before her
senior year of college, and she’s never looked back. Since, she has published
eight more novels, including the bestselling BOSTON LOVE STORY series and THE
GIRL DUET. Her books have appeared on Kindle and iTunes Bestseller lists around
the world, as well as in AdWeek, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today.

You can find Julie on Facebook or contact her on her website www.juliejohnsonbooks.com.
Sometimes, when she can figure out how Twitter works, she tweets from
@AuthorJulie. For major book news and updates, subscribe to Julie’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bnWtHH

;

Author Links

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

Claiming His Secret Heir by Joanne Rock #BookBlitz @givemebooksblog @JoanneRock6

 

 

Title: Claiming His Secret Heir
Series: The McNeill Magnates #5
Author: Joanne Rock
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Desire
Release Date: January 1, 2018

 

Blurb
Can he win back his wife?
When Caroline McNeill shows up outside her
husband’s mansion, she claims to have no memory of the past year…or their
passion-filled honeymoon. But faking amnesia is the only way Caroline can find
out if Damon was behind her abduction. She needs to trust him—a man she craves
but still barely knows—before she can tell him about their infant son. Did the
Silicon Valley mogul merely marry to claim an inheritance then dispose of her?
Or is what they share real and forever?

 

Purchase Links
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B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS

 

Excerpt
He shook
out the waterproof blanket on the snow—plastic on one side, wool plaid on the
other. She watched him line up the sled at one end of the blanket before he
knelt in the snow to open the picnic hamper. All the while, Caroline rocked the
carriage gently, tilting it back and forth. Thankfully, their bodyguard sat
outside the trees, keeping an eye on the hill below to make sure no one
intruded on their space. She didn’t feel “watched,” per se, although she felt
certain the guy kept an eye on them somehow. The team Damon hired seemed very
skilled at maintaining a discreet presence.
“I know
that I’m not alone any longer, and I’m glad for that.” She debated lifting
Lucas out of the baby carrier, but then changed her mind, putting the brakes on
the contraption and facing the carrier toward the blanket so they could keep an
eye on him.
“Are you ready for the winter picnic to end all picnics?” Damon asked,
waiting to open the picnic basket until he had her attention.
He shoved
his gloves into the pockets of his vest. His dark hair had a few fresh
snowflakes coating the top where he must have brushed against one of the
evergreen boughs.
“Do you
know what’s in there?” She peeled off her own gloves, ready to eat. “I can’t
imagine what a winter picnic entails, so my expectations are fairly low.”
“I packed
this myself. And believe me, my expectations run permanently high.” He tipped
open the lid with a flourish. “I present to you, the Post-Sledding Woodland
Feast.”
Caroline
felt her eyes go wide. Crammed inside the huge basket were two brightly colored
thermoses and insulated mugs, a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth, a wooden
cheeseboard with fresh fruits and cloth-covered cheeses, a tray of shrimp on
ice, a stack of Sternos and a lighter, a bag of huge, homemade-looking
marshmallows, a tin of graham crackers, chocolate-covered strawberries…
“And
champagne!” Her gaze finally reached a bottle of a highly recognizable brand of
bubbly inside a champagne bucket. “Is that even legal?” She glanced around,
half expecting a park ranger to issue a citation.
“Alcohol in
the park is regulated, but not prohibited, so no one will bother us unless we
start causing trouble.” Grinning, he gestured for her to have a seat on the
blanket. “Get comfortable and I’ll serve us.”
She did as
he asked, her eyes still on the stuffed hamper.
“You packed
this?” It was a feat of engineering, the way everything was stacked and
prepped.
“The
technical mind is good for more than designing software, you know.” He pulled
out fondue sticks and set them beside the Sterno cans so they could toast their
own marshmallows. “And under the champagne is a bottle of whiskey if you’d
rather doctor up the hot chocolate.” He produced a smaller basket with
airline-sized bottles of Jameson and Baileys, plus a variety of add-in flavors
from vanilla and almond to butterscotch.
“You have
outdone yourself.” She glanced up into the carriage to check on Lucas.
Surrounded by trees on three sides, their picnic spot felt safe and
surprisingly private considering the view of the mayhem near Cedar Hill and the
row of emerging snowmen lining the biggest walking trail less than fifty yards
away.
“I will
admit, it’s been hell keeping a lid on the surprise all day.” He found two
small hurricane lanterns and placed candles inside them even though the sun
still shone brightly outside. Then, he uncapped one of the containers of cocoa
and poured her a mugful. “Here. You can add what you like while I work on the
seating.”
He
scrambled around to the back of the blanket where he used one arm to scoop a
pile of snow under the edge of the wool plaid. It took her a moment to
understand why he wanted a big lump of snow under the spot where she was
sitting. But then he covered it up again, packing the pile into a U-shaped
curve to create a support for her back.
“Genius,”
she announced, settling into the snow seat with her mug of hot chocolate, the
picnic spread out at her feet. “It really is the picnic to end all picnics.”
“I’ll drink
to that.” Damon poured his own hot chocolate and settled on the blanket beside
her. “Here’s to our first real day as a family.”
She met his
blue gaze, his eyes all the more crystalline in the bright sun. He’d taken
considerable time and trouble to make the day perfect for her, and Lucas, too.
While she’d been sleeping late to catch up on rest, he’d been ordering a
special sled and packing the perfect picnic.
“To
family,” she echoed, softly clanking her pewter cup to his.
Tipping the
drink to her lips, she savored the complex swirl of flavors. She hadn’t added
much alcohol, just enough to give a pleasant jolt of warmth on the way down.
The almond and vanilla notes were especially good, and the melting homemade
marshmallow she’d set on top was a gooey bonus.
She was
about to compliment the first beverage course, but when she turned to him
again, she felt a flash of heat from the simmering look he gave her. His mug
remained untouched, his attention fixed on her mouth.
He was very
still.
“What?”
Self-conscious, she set her cup aside in the snow. “I have marshmallow all over
my face, don’t I?”
Her hand
went to her nose, but Damon caught it. He’d set his own drink aside, too,
freeing his hands.
“Let me.”
He canted closer, his focus shifting to her eyes.
The heat
ratcheted up so much it was a wonder they weren’t melting snow.
She could
feel her heartbeat quicken, the answering spark she’d always experienced with
this man. Time and distance hadn’t broken it. Even forgetting him completely
for weeks on end hadn’t erased the response she had to him.
 
 
 
Author Bio
Four-time RITA
nominee Joanne Rock has never met a romance sub-genre she didn’t like. The author
of over eighty books enjoys writing a wide range of stories, most recently
focusing on sexy contemporaries and small town family sagas. An optimist by
nature and perpetual seeker of silver linings, Joanne finds romance fits her
life outlook perfectly–love is worth fighting for. A frequent speaker at
regional and national writing conferences she enjoys giving back to the writing
community that nurtured and inspired her early career. She has a Masters degree
in Literature from the University of Louisville but credits her fiction writing
skills to her intensive study with friend and fellow author Catherine Mann.
When she’s not writing, Joanne enjoys travel, especially to see her favorite
sports teams play with her former sports editor husband and three athletic-minded
sons.
 
Author Links

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