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13 Friday Aug 2021
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13 Friday Aug 2021
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I’ve seen every square inch of Violet Eaton’s delectable body and she has no idea who I am.
Until now.
What happened between us online, in our chats, was meant to stay anonymous and in the past.
Until it didn’t.
It’s a small world, but Ruby Creek is even smaller. When I move to the tiny town, the grumpy facade I’ve created slips when we’re forced to live under the same roof.
Every flush of her cheeks, every time her eyes flare with heat, every time she begs me not to stop, the ice I’ve encased myself in melts. She has me wanting things I can’t want. Things I’ve been dreaming about since I first laid eyes on her two years ago—things I don’t deserve.
But my invisible wounds have the power to ruin us both. As a former soldier, I should have the discipline to walk away, but the more I open up to Violet, the more I want to keep her.
I came back from the war a different man, but my scars are older and deeper than anyone knows—and I planned to keep it that way. I planned to keep my secrets hidden.
Until her.

Download your copy today! FREE in Kindle Unlimited Amazon: https://amzn.to/3iaND3v Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/photofinish
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About Elsie Elsie Silver is a Canadian author of sassy, sexy, small town romance who loves a good book boyfriend and the strong heroines who bring them to their knees. She lives just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband, son, and three dogs and has been voraciously reading romance books since before she was probably supposed to.
She loves cooking and trying new foods, traveling, and spending time with her boys–especially outdoors. Elsie has also become a big fan of her quiet five am mornings, which is when most of her writing happens. It’s during this time that she can sip a cup of hot coffee and dream up a fictional world full of romantic stories to share with her readers.
Connect with Elsie Amazon: https://amzn.to/3x9ltu2 Facebook: https://bit.ly/2TJbgH6 Instagram: https://bit.ly/2VcaiU0 Stay up to date with Elsie by joining her mailing list: https://bit.ly/3i5a7D1
13 Friday Aug 2021
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12 Thursday Aug 2021
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Horror author Felicity Bell moves to the charming town of Oak Bend after being shunned from the last place she called home. When she walks in the door of her new rental, she doesn’t expect to find a half-naked man standing in her kitchen. There’s just one problem: Wyatt Dawson seems to think it’s his kitchen. Misunderstandings aside, her new neighbor is lumberjack hot, and his grumpiness only makes her more determined to bring a little joy to his life, even if he’d rather be left alone.
Burned by his past, Wyatt isn’t about to let the cheerful free spirit next door into his heart only for her to crush him when she flits out of town again. But with his well-meaning, matchmaking, mother on the case, these two end up spending far too much time together and things between the unlikely pair quickly heat up. It may be true what they say—opposites do attract, but only if their relationship can survive Wyatt’s interfering ex-girlfriend and Felicity’s fear of history repeating itself.
Welcome to Oak Bend, where blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder, especially when it comes to landing their happily ever after.
Pre-order your copy today! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3lxRTwa Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/placebelong
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About Alexa Alexa Rivers is the author of steamy and heartfelt small town romances. She lives in a small town herself, complete with nosy neighbors and quirky traditions. She shares a house with a neurotic dog and a husband who thinks he’s hilarious. When she’s not writing, she enjoys travelling, baking and decorating cakes, eating those cakes, cuddling fluffy animals, drinking excessive amounts of tea, and absorbing herself in fictional worlds.
Connect with Alexa Facebook: https://bit.ly/3jBRyWA Instagram: https://bit.ly/3izWP1q Stay up to date with Alexa by joining her mailing list: https://bit.ly/3yykSDA Website: https://alexarivers.com
12 Thursday Aug 2021
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12 Thursday Aug 2021
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The first book in a new series by Denise Grover Swank and A.R. Casella, authors of the USA Today bestselling Asheville Brewing series.
Molly
Blogging about bad dates used to be fun, but a girl can only take so much foolishness. So I broke up with my job.
Okay, full disclosure, I was fired. It’s a long, sordid tale, involving my sourdough starter—RIP, Fred!—and my ex-boss’s serious lack of humor.
Newly funemployed and in need of a break, I go to Asheville to dogsit for my sister…and stumble onto a scoop big enough to put my fake-dating days behind me forever.
Augusta Glower, local success story, wrote a bestseller about the self-help group she started. People think her system works, and copycat Bad Luck Clubs have sprung up nationwide. Something feels off, though, and a little poking around by yours truly suggests she stole the idea.
There’s one problem. I have to prove it, and the guy she ripped off—super-hot house flipper Caleb Reynolds—seems to…well, hate me. Which is too bad since his secrets aren’t the only thing I’d like to peel away.
* * *
Cal
Molly O’Shea is my worst nightmare.
Is she sexy as sin? Well…yeah. Does she smell like honeysuckle and trouble? No doubt. Is she determined to dig up my secrets with a backhoe? I’m pretty sure she got a two-week rental. But I’ll never talk. If the reason I started the club gets out, my whole life will implode.
So why is she so damn irresistible?

Grab your copy today! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3yxZbnH Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/Loveatfirst Apple Books: https://apple.co/3wrNEEy Kobo: https://bit.ly/3yQ5Iu6 Nook: https://bit.ly/3fnwDFJ Google Play: https://bit.ly/3oRQqQG
Add Love at First Hate to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3oRCne0

About Denise Grover Swank
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Denise Grover Swank was born in Kansas City, Missouri and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a nomadic gypsy, living in five cities, four states and ten houses over the course of ten years before she moved back to her roots. She speaks English and smattering of Spanish and Chinese which she learned through an intensive Nick Jr. immersion period. Her hobbies include witty Facebook comments (in her own mind) and dancing in her kitchen with her children. (Quite badly if you believe her offspring.) Hidden talents include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and still fall asleep within two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to perform many unspeakable tasks. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity. Or so she leads you to believe.
Connect with Denise Facebook: https://bit.ly/3gLPdF2 Instagram: https://bit.ly/31QjfmL Twitter: https://bit.ly/3gOHyFR Stay up to date with Denise, join her newsletter: https://bit.ly/3gLPtnu Website: https://bit.ly/3hRjcNl

About A.R. Casella
A.R. CASELLA is a freelance developmental editor by day, writer by night. She lives in Asheville, NC with her husband, daughter, two dogs, and a variable number of fish. Her pastimes include chasing around her toddler, baking delicious treats, and occasional bouts of crocheting. Any Luck at All, co-written with New York Times bestselling author Denise Grover Swank, is her first book.
Connect with A.R. Casella Facebook: https://bit.ly/3gOsV5v Website: https://www.arcasella.com/ Amazon: https://amzn.to/3zhUaQB Instagram: https://bit.ly/35gehAA
12 Thursday Aug 2021
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I just don’t love you anymore, were the last words Colton Winters said to me before he walked away and stayed gone for five years. Imagine my surprise when I meet the Atlanta Fire’s new quarterback, and it’s the man who broke my heart.

Heidi
I pin my hair up on top of my head and give it a quick spray. I pull the illuminating powder and contour brush out of my makeup bag. I add some to my forehead and above my cheekbones. I grab Greta’s setting spray and quickly use it on my face.
“You look hot, girl,” Greta says from behind me. She grabs my lipstick and quickly dabs it on my lips before stepping back. “There, perfection.”
Out of the Collins kids, I’m the baby in the family. Greta is a year and a half older than me, but she’s my best friend and roommate. I turn back toward the mirror. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, you know I wouldn’t tell you, you looked great unless I meant it. I went through your closet and found the perfect outfit.” My sister is a fashionista and has a good eye for style.
She disappears out of the bathroom, and I follow her into my bedroom. On my bed are my black low rider wide-leg tuxedo pants and a silver top that hugs my breasts, making them look bigger. Lord knows I could use all the help I can get.
Since I’m the youngest, the boobs were all taken up by the time I came along. I take off my robe and pull on some pink satin panties and a matching bra. I grab my perfume, spray some in front of me, and walk through it.
I get dressed and slip on a pair of black stiletto sling backs. Looking in the mirror, I feel confident and sexy. My plan is to pick up some hot football player and have some much-needed fun.
That’s what I need, to have fun. Over the past couple of years, I’ve spent most of my time building my clientele at the studio and proving to my sisters that I deserved my spot there.
I head into the living room and find Greta standing in front of the mirror, fiddling with her hair. I love my sister, but I can totally admit that I’m jealous of her. She’s tall, lean, has gorgeous long, wavy brown hair, and is beautiful inside and out.
Her dress is a mixture of pinks, creams, and browns. It’s a long, flowy maxi dress with long sleeves and a slit in the front. She’s wearing brown thick-heeled sandals, which compliment her Boho chic style.
She smiles when she sees me. “Damn, I knew that outfit would look great. I ordered our Uber, so we should probably head downstairs.”
We grab our purses, lock up, and head downstairs. Tonight is a party for Nick’s arena football team. He invited us so we could hang with our sister, Sierra, I’m sure.
When we reach Blaze, a man in an all-black suit opens the door for us and holds out his hand, helping each of us out. We step inside and head up a beautiful staircase to the space where the party is at.
We grab some champagne before searching out our family.
“Look at all these hot men,” Greta leans down and whispers in my ear.
I cover my mouth as I giggle, but then I sober up. The one and only serious boyfriend I ever had was a football player, a quarterback, and that asshole broke my heart.
Greta moves to stand in front of me. “What’s that look for?” She tips her head to the side, looking closely at me.
I give her my best fake smile. “Nothing, just admiring the view.” Yes, these men are all hot, but I have no desire to hook up with a football player. “Let’s go find everyone.” I take a sip of my champagne and thread my arm through hers, and we walk through the crowd, looking for our family.
The party is in full swing, and I glance around the room. There truly are hot guys everywhere. The players we’ve met have been nice. Several of them have been vying for Greta’s attention, but of course they would because she’s a babe. I haven’t decided if there are any men that I want to speak to yet. Nick calls someone named Colton over, and my stomach pitches, which is stupid because there are a lot of guys out there named Colton.
I turn toward Nick, and that’s when my heart stops, and my stomach drops. Colton Winters is standing in front of me for the first time in five years. “Heidi.” Just hearing my name on his lips has me turning and running down the stairs.
Outside, I run down the street with Colton calling my name, but all I can hear are the words he spoke to me five years ago. “Heidi, I just don’t love you anymore. This is over.” I stop, panting for breath and holding my side due to a stitch.
Colton stops in front of me, but I don’t think—I just react, slapping him across the face. “Stay away from me,” I grit out. “I just don’t love you anymore.” I throw those words back at him and flag down a cab, climbing inside when it pulls up to the curb before he can follow me.
It’s not until I’m safely back in my apartment that I finally fall apart. I lock myself in my bedroom and grab a box from the back of my closet. Peeling the lid off, I feel the tears fill my eyes.
The first picture was from our eighth-grade graduation. Colton was behind me with his arms around me—both of us smiling widely at the camera. God, we were just babies, and I still had braces.
No one thought we’d last back then, but we proved them wrong, over and over, with each passing year. I wanted to marry him—I wanted to have his children, and I almost did until that slipped away as well.
In a matter of two months I lost him, and then I lost the baby I was carrying. I never told anyone about the second, and I never will. I honestly don’t know what it is about us Collins women, but three of us have found ourselves at one point knocked-up and single. Well, Sierra isn’t single; she may say she is, but Nick follows her around like a lovesick fool. I can’t wait to see it when she realizes she loves him too.
I focus on the pictures. Shit, I took so many. Our whole relationship is in this box in the form of pictures. My favorite is one that was taken right before Colton broke up with me—the night I’m sure our child was conceived.
“How many people are going with you?” Mom asks as I carry my sleeping bag and backpack downstairs.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe three or four. Colton’s the one who set this up.” Ugh … I hate lying to my mom, but with graduation getting close, we’re going to be so busy. Colton and I just want one night alone.
We love camping, so we’re going, just the two of us, for a romantic getaway, sleeping under the stars.
Mom gets close, lowering her voice. “I know you’re having sex, but promise me you’re being careful.”
I roll my eyes. “I am. We are; I promise.”
My parents found out we were having sex when we were sixteen. One night when they were out, Colton was over, and things were getting very physical between us. Miles had come home to surprise us, and surprise us he did. Poor Colton got chased out of the house, naked, by my overprotective big brother.
He, of course, called our parents, who then came home and chewed us out before calling Colton’s mom and dad. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, and then talking.
Colton shows up as I reach the bottom of the stairs. He knocks and then comes right in. “Hey, babe.” He leans down to kiss me.
God, he is so hot, but he’s so much more than that too. He’s kind, loving, funny, and so freaking smart it’s scary.
Bam, bam, bam… “Heidi are you okay?” Greta asks from outside my door, pulling me from my trip down memory lane. “Honey, open the door.”
“G-go away, Greta. I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.” I sit quietly and pray that she goes away.
“Are you sure?” She’s quiet for a minute. “Was that the first time you’ve seen Colton since you broke up?”
Does she mean when he broke up with me, shattering my heart into unfixable pieces? I don’t answer her because I’m afraid of what might come out of my mouth.
I can hear her sigh from the other side of the door. “I’ll leave you alone for now, but I love you, and I’m here for you.”
I quickly grab my pillow from my bed, bury my face in it, and sob.




12 Thursday Aug 2021
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Marie’s Tempting Reads – “Loner was a sweet, amusing, sexy and sincerely heart stopping irresistible romance that makes this final book in one of my all time favorite series one of the best endings ever!”
PP’s Bookshelf – “I haven’t read something so magnetic and intriguing like Loner by Jamie Schlosser in a long time.”
The Hatters (Britt) – “This book utterly and completely blew me away!”

PROLOGUEShe was just supposed to be a job I turned down.I’ve been picky about my clients before, and when I was approached by a man with ties to the mafia in search of his daughter, my immediate answer was no. His personal private investigator had recently died under mysterious circumstances, and I didn’t want to meet the same fate.Then I saw Rosalie’s picture.I should’ve walked away.I didn’t.


12 Thursday Aug 2021
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They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend—until they’re stolen.
Ania Throne is devoted to her jewelry company. The daughter of one of the world’s most famous jewelers, she arrives in Cannes with a stunning new collection. But a shocking theft by the notorious thief known as the Leopard throws her into upheaval—and plunges her on an unexpected hunt that challenges everything she believes.
Jerome Curtis thinks he’s seen it all, especially when it comes to crime. Until he’s hired to investigate the loss of Ania Thorne’s collection, his every skill put to the test as he chases after a mysterious master-mind responsible for some of the costliest heists in history—and finds himself in a tangled web with a woman he really shouldn’t fall in love with.
From the fabled Carlton Hotel to the elegant boulevards of Paris, Ania and Jerome must race against time to catch a thief before the thief catches them. With everything on the line, can they solve the steal or will the steal take more than diamonds from them?

Grab your copy today! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3uvzxgR Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TheSteal Apple Books: https://apple.co/2SGQhDV Nook: https://bit.ly/3f5YjO4 Kobo: https://bit.ly/3vUTvBR Google Play: https://bit.ly/3fcnQp3 Amazon Print: https://amzn.to/3zdB2De
Add The Steal to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2RGWCi2

Excerpt
I turn to the two people slumped on chairs by an empty table. A man and a woman, both looking queasy. The man holds an ice pack to his face, but when he looks up at my approach, he lets out a gasp of recognition. “Curtis?” It takes a moment before I place him. “Darcy? What the hell . . .?” “I could say the same.” He rises unsteadily to his feet, all six foot three of him. I didn’t recognize him at first because he’s put on at least twenty pounds since I last saw him in ’48. He thrusts out his hand. “Of all the joints in France,” he quips in a faux-Bogart drawl. I feel how clammy his palm is. “Quite the coincidence. How’d you end up in this mess?” John Darcy was one of the operatives on my team after the war. While our unexpected reunion is startling, I’m glad to see him. He was always honest. Reliable. And dedicated. Whenever we got word of a potential target, he didn’t let up until we had the monster out of his bolt-hole and in a jail cell. No one will ever give him a medal for it—what we did after the war remains top-secret—but if anyone deserves one, it’s Darcy. He took down more of those mass-murdering fascists than anyone else. And if our unit hadn’t been shut down, he wouldn’t have stopped. “I need to pay my bills,” he says, putting the ice pack back to his forehead. “You know how it goes. Thorne & Company pays me well, and ex-grunts aren’t exactly rolling in dough.” He winces. “Can you believe that sonofabitch hit me with chloroform?” “Chloroform? Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m sure. I could smell it. Still can. Like cotton candy. Bastard.” “Damn,” I say. He chuckles. “My head feels like I got hit by a truck. Better than a bullet, I suppose. But, yeah, damn is right. I didn’t see a thing.” He eases back down on his chair. “And you?” “Insurance,” I say. He meets my eyes. He gets it. This isn’t the time or place for long winded explanations. Besides, he knows as well as I do that’s the least of what I do. Insurance is my cover. My skills go far beyond it. Like his. I turn my attention to the woman. “I’m from Lambert Securities, Thorne & Company’s insurance firm. Do you speak any English, Miss . . .?” She nods. “Sylvia Morton. I’m Miss Thorne’s personal assistant.” “Did you see the culprit, Miss Morton?” “Yes. He—he came in after Mr. Darcy delivered the cases. We were waiting for—” “Our boss,” Darcy cuts in. He swallows. “Ania Thorne. She’s the only one with the codes.” “Codes?” I understand what he means, but I want to hear it from him. “Yeah. You know. Numeric codes. Each case has one. Unique, no two alike. She always unlocks the cases herself. But before she got here, he hit me with the chloroform.” “And then?” I return my gaze to the woman, who casts a worried look at John. It’s obvious to me they’re involved somehow and trying to hide it. The boss’s personal assistant and the security detail making nookie . . . Not what you’d call professional behavior. “He just walked in.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “He had a gun. He pointed me into that corner and took the cases.” “Six minutes,” Darcy says. “The bastard did it in six goddamn minutes!” “Did he say anything?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “What was he wearing?” “All black. A mask. Like . . . like a ski mask. Gloves.” “What kind of gloves?” She hesitates. “Normal? They were black, too. I’m sorry, it happened so fast …” Normal. Black. Not what I’m hoping to hear. One of the Leopard’s signature stunts is flaunting leopard-print gloves during his heists; it’s how he earned his moniker and captured public attention. But it’s been six years since his last job in London, and that went very wrong. He’s kept a low profile since, but only because he made his first mistake. To me, this new heist bears his trademarks: Fast. Efficient. Executed to perfection. All witnesses left alive.
About M.J. Rose M.J. Rose grew up in New York City mostly in the labyrinthine galleries of the Metropolitan Museum, the dark tunnels and lush gardens of Central Park and reading her mother’s favorite books before she was allowed. She believes mystery and magic are all around us but we are too often too busy to notice… Books that exaggerate mystery and magic draw attention to it and remind us to look for it and revel in it. Rose is a the Co-President and founding member of International Thriller Writers and the founder of the first marketing company for authors: AuthorBuzz. She runs the blog, Museum of Mysteries.
In 1998, her first novel Lip Service was the first e-book and the first self-published novel chosen by the LiteraryGuild/Doubleday Book Club as well as the first e-book to go on to be published by a mainstream New York publishing house. Rose has been profiled in Time magazine, Forbes, The New York Times, Business 2.0, Working Woman, Newsweek, and New York Magazine.
She has appeared on The Today Show, Fox News, The Jim Lehrer NewsHour, and features on her have appeared in dozens of magazines and newspapers in the U.S. and abroad, including USAToday, Stern, L’Official, Poets and Writers, and Publishers Weekly.
Rose graduated from Syracuse University and spent the ’80s in advertising. She was the Creative Director of Rosenfeld Sirowitz and Lawson and she has a commercial in the Museum of Modern Art in NYC.
Connect with M.J. Rose Facebook: http://bit.ly/2Z2S1Ve Twitter: http://bit.ly/2N14QNO Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2KMwTxp Instagram: http://bit.ly/2MglysF Website: https://www.mjrose.com

About C.W. Gortner C.W. Gortner holds an MFA in Writing with an emphasis on Renaissance Studies from the New College of California and a degree in fashion marketing. In his extensive travels to research his books, he has experienced life in a Spanish castle and danced in a Tudor great hall. Half-Spanish by birth, his novels have been translated in over 20 languages to date.
C.W. enjoys talking to book groups. To schedule a chat or find out more about his work.
Connect with C.W. Amazon: https://amzn.to/2TwesW9 Facebook: https://bit.ly/3yW6J3V Twitter: https://bit.ly/3wzytJw Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3fNiCA4 YouTube: https://bit.ly/3yMVytY Blog: https://bit.ly/3fxHDRa Website: https://www.cwgortner.com
Connect with Blue Box Press Website: https://theblueboxpress.com/ Instagram: https://bit.ly/36zQAni Facebook: https://bit.ly/2IxR9pC
12 Thursday Aug 2021
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