Tuesday, October 31, 2017




Title: Blocked
A Breakaway Novel
Author: L.P. Dover
Genre: Sports Romance
Publisher: Random House/Loveswept
Release Date: October 31, 2017



Blurb

He’s got every reason to be cocky . . . until a female cuts him down to size.

I’m Dallas Easton, the best goaltender in the league. I make a damn good living playing hockey, and with women falling at my feet wherever I go, why not enjoy it? I get whatever I want, whenever I want—that is, until I come across the one player who gets the best of me on the ice.

When I try to pummel the dude, all hell breaks loose. Imagine my surprise when the helmet comes off to reveal a woman underneath. And not just any woman, but the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Callie Davis is the complete opposite of the puck bunnies I usually go for, a good girl with sick moves and a selfless streak a mile wide. I need to make amends, but she dodges me at every turn. It doesn’t help that Callie’s brother hates my guts, or that my agent thinks she’s bad for my career.

But I could care less what they think. I can’t let our little run-in on the ice be the end of our story. Because when I set my sights on something, I won’t rest until I score.




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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

Heart pounding, I stared him down, waiting for him to take the shot. The second he drew back his stick, I got into position, only for him to hit me right between the eyes with his glove. For a split second I lost my focus, and he slapped the puck right between my legs.

“Motherfucker,” I growled, glaring down at the glove on the ice and the puck in the goal. The worthless cunt actually had the audacity to throw his glove at my face. Kellan burst out laughing and the whole rink echoed as they cheered at my expense. Red just fucked up big time. 

The others tried their luck to no avail, and then Red was back at it. I waited for him to throw the other glove, but instead, he turned and sprayed ice right up into my face, his body colliding with mine. During our fall, he hit the puck right into the goal. Rage coursed through my veins and all I could see was red . . . literally. Getting up quickly, he started back toward the others and I slid out my stick, hooking it around his ankle. I jerked him back and he fell. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d show him how dirty I could be. He tried to get up, but I pushed him back down, tossing my mask and gloves onto the ice. The others shouted and skated toward us, but I wasn’t letting Red get away with making me out to be a fool. 

“Think you’re hot shit now, huh?” I spat, grabbing him by the jersey. He was smaller than me, so it wasn’t hard to flip him over and rip off his mask. Blinded by rage, I pulled my fist back, only to stop cold in my tracks. I stared at the face behind the mask, completely transfixed.

The person lying on the ice wasn’t Justin’s brother. It was a woman, and not just any woman. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Before any words could escape my lips, Justin tackled me to the ice and my breath whooshed out of my lungs as we slid to the wall. 

“What the fuck is your problem? That’s my sister,” he shouted angrily. Eyes darkening, he slammed my shoulders against the wall. 

Catching my breath, I looked up at him and held up my hands. “I didn’t know it was a female. I wouldn’t have touched her if I’d known.” Under most circumstances, I’d have punched him and been done, but I felt like a tool. 

His nostrils flared. “You’re such a prick.” 

“Justin,” his sister called out. We both looked over at her as Kellan and the other two guys helped her up. They all stared daggers at me, including her. “Let’s go.” 

Justin pushed off of me and skated over to her. I got one last look at her angelic face and emerald green eyes before she turned around and disappeared off the ice. 



Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



Author Bio


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she began her literary journey she worked in periodontics, enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

She loves to write, but she also loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes and white water rafting, and has a passion for singing. Her two youngest fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime, usually Christmas carols.

Dover has written countless novels, including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, the Gloves Off series, the Armed & Dangerous series, the Royal Shifters series, the Society X series, the Circle of Justice series, and her standalone novel Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense, but if she got to choose a setting in which to live, it would be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.



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Title - Savage: The Awakening of Lizzie Danton
Author - L.A. Fiore
Genre - Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
Release Date - November 17, 2017 Cover Designer: Melissa Stevens, The Illustrated Author Photographer: Scott Hoover
They call him a monster.
Pale blue eyes as cold as ice that see right through you.
He’s hard.
He’s damaged.
He’s dangerous.
He lives in a castle fit for a fairy tale, but he’s no prince.
He’s savage.
He’s brutal.
He’s a killer.
By an act of fate, our worlds collide.
They call him a monster, but he is my salvation.
Text copyright © 2017, L.A. Fiore
All rights reserved
My hands fisted in the pockets of my trousers as I watched Lizzie Danton walking down the drive. Fuck. Damn that fucking conscience. I didn’t need it, didn’t fucking want it. I wanted to turn my back, but I could hear Brianna and Fenella, even Finnegan, in my head. “Fucking hell.”
     Fenella was just entering the library as I was leaving it. She was giving me her stink eye, that frosty look that condemned without her needing to speak a word. What the hell did she want? I let the woman sleep here, fed her, and clothed her. It was the clothes, or lack of them, that stirred something left well enough alone. “Our guest is walking home.”
     “I saw.”
     “I think she’s coming down with a cold.”      “Fucking walking in the rain will do that.”
     “Not her fault the car broke down.” She narrowed her eyes at me before she added, “And it’s not her fault she’s kin to Norah Calhoun. Remember, she’s kin to Brianna too.”
      I didn’t pay my staff to lecture me. They weren’t staff; they were family, but I ignored that. I was halfway down the hall when Fenella called after me, “She wants to paint your home.”
     That stopped me, my head swiveling to her. “She said that?”
     “Yes. Said you could Google her to see her portfolio and that she would gift you the painting.”      I didn’t need to Google her. I was familiar with her work. But after my interrogation last night, why the hell would she offer that? “Why?”
     “Because the sight of the castle from the lane took her breath away, her words.”
     It was the view from the lane that sold me on this place; more specifically the feeling of peace it evoked, a foreign, but not unpleasant feeling. Fucking hell.
     There were a few broken branches blocking the drive. By the time I got the Range Rover out of the garage, it had been about an hour since Miss Danton left. Halfway back to the village, I saw the body on the boulder. My chest grew tight thinking harm had come to her; the unwanted sensation annoyed the hell out of me. Pulling over, I climbed out to hear Lizzie Danton talking to herself. She had a bizarre habit of talking to things, like those cows and Brianna’s ghost. Her words that day had lingered because despite the shit she’d seen, she still had it in her to paint fucking sprites…to try for happy. I couldn’t decide if she was the most well adjusted person of my acquaintance or the craziest. I wondered if she’d spent any time in a mental facility.
     I couldn’t make out what she was saying, didn’t really care. My goal was to get her ass back to the cottage. That would ease the nagging from my fucking conscience. I stepped closer, to peer down at her, her eyes went wide then she screamed. She jumped off the boulder like it was on fire.
     “What the hell! Didn’t you ever learn not to sneak up on someone resting on a rock?”
     I ignored that ridiculous question. She was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. “You don’t look so good.”
     “Nice. Scare the shit out of me and then insult me. Seriously, charm school was completely lost on you.”
     She had the oddest way of communicating. More surprising was the urge to grin at her nonsense. “I’ll give you a ride to the cottage.”
     “No, thank you. I wouldn’t want you thinking I was after your car, or your house and heaven forbid you. I’ll walk.” She started walking away but stopped and turned back. “And why assume I was like my mother? You knew Aunt Brianna, but you interrogated me like I was after something. Never mind. I don’t care what you think.”
     She did care. I saw how deeply it cut her to be compared to her mother. Another unfamiliar sensation curled in my gut. Guilt. I shook it off. “You can barely stand.”
     Temper burned behind her eyes, but she acquiesced. “Fine.”
     She didn’t wait for me and walked to the car in much the way a child in temper might do. She yanked open the door and dropped into the seat. I climbed in, felt her eyes on me, but when I looked over her focus was out the window.
     “Why are the villagers freaked out by you?” She turned in her seat to face me. “They think you’re a werewolf.”
     I’d heard that rumor. Was actually rather fond of that one. “Maybe I am.”
     I glanced over at her and she was contemplating the real possibility that I was a werewolf. Damn, if I didn’t want to grin.
     “I don’t think so, but I’ll be sure to stay inside on the full moon.”
L.A. Fiore is the author of several books including Beautifully Damaged, Collecting the Pieces and His Light in the Dark. Her favorite movie is Star Wars, a love her son shares. They hope to build their own Millennium Falcon one day. She would like to meet the Winchester Boys to thank them for enlightening her on the versatility of salt as not just a food enhancer, but as protection from supernatural threats. And she thinks it would be interesting to be a zombie, to get an idea of what life is like as a brain-addicted fiend so she can be their voice to tell their side of the story. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and kids, their two spoiled cats and their awesome dog.
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Monday, October 30, 2017



Title: A Drop of Paradise

Author: Alex L. Michaels

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Free on Kindle Unlimited or $2.99!

Blurb:

She is a woman of words. He is a man of action.
She wants to be left alone. He won't take no for an answer.
She has a writer's block. He might be the cure.

Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2vSpTuw
Website: http://bit.ly/2jsZRbl
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2wN6BFC
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexLMichaels/
Twitter: @alexlmichaels_a


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CLOSET DOORS
By
Piper Frost
(ie- M. Piper & H.Q. Frost)


>>So you love a good romance novel, right? We're assuming so, or you probably wouldn't be here right now. <<

Ever read one you wanted to see end differently? Ever wish something else happened to your favorite characters? 
Here's a question...What if you decided their fate?
In this one of a kind, Love is Love novel by Piper Frost, the ending is up to YOU!
Fall in love the modern way.
THIS is the romance novel, re-thought. 

-ONE BOOK. FOUR CHARACTERS-
→THREE DIFFERENT ENDINGS. ←

Does Kevin end up with Colt? Or will he be with Violet? And what’s that about Violet’s best friend Blair that’s so...alluring? The perfect mix of hot computer nerd, even hotter music producer, wild child, and the down to earth girl next door. 
This is your ‘choose your own ending’, adult style. Our characters will find their happily ever after, that’s a promise. It’s how they get there and who they end up with that’s up to you. 

So what are you waiting for? You know you're a little (bi)curious....
No? Not a little? Then maybe Kevin and Violet's story is more your style. ;) 
Grab it now on Amazon! → http://amzn.to/2i7pzyh




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Title: Welcome Home Soldier 
Author: Deanna Wadsworth
Genre: M/M Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner
Release Date: December 2017 
Clay and Daniel fell in love as enlisted men during Desert Shield, but Don’t Ask Don’t Tell meant they had to keep it secret. After Clay’s convoy was ambushed, PTSD changed him, and their relationship ended in a horrible fight on Christmas Eve.
Twenty-five years later, they’ve reconnected on Facebook, and Clay finds out Daniel will be alone on Christmas Eve. Impulsively, he sets out for Daniel’s hometown of Gilead, Ohio—where Daniel is now the mayor—to surprise him with a visit. But a blizzard strikes and Clay wrecks his car. All hope of seeing Daniel is lost—until a mysterious old man named Nick offers Clay a ride. The weight of past wounds and the scars of war might make their reunion awkward, but Clay is willing to take the risk to win back his lost love. Despite a lifetime of disappointing holidays, Clay hopes that this soldier is finally coming home for Christmas.
“You sure we’re gonna fit over that bridge?” Clay asked when a rickety-looking bridge appeared up ahead on the edge of the headlights’ range. The one-lane bridge didn’t look wide enough to fit the big vehicle.
“Oh, I can make it,” Nick assured him.
A soldier’s sixth sense kept him alive, and it was a trait very few lost. Though Clay trusted Nick knew what he was doing—he was probably a local—Clay held his breath as they squeezed over the old structure, the curved metal support less than a hand’s width away from Clay’s door.
“Told ya we would make it,” Nick said merrily as they bounced around a bit when the truck was back on the road.
“I can’t believe your boss has you delivering packages this late on Christmas Eve.”
“I work for a real stickler,” Nick said, chuckling. “Gotta make sure that everyone in Gilead gets their Christmas present.”
“You with the post office?” He’d been so anxious to get out of the weather that he hadn’t noticed any badging on the vehicle.
Nick chuckled again. “Something like that. I always spend Christmas Eve delivering packages. It’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Giving everyone their Christmas miracle?”
“I could use a Christmas miracle.”
“Not dying on the side of the road is pretty miraculous.”
After a begrudging nod, Clay let his vision get lost in the warp speed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Today would be one of his better Christmases. At least Clay wasn’t dead and he would get to see Daniel again.
With his track record, Clay should hate the holidays, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Christmas was a joyful time of year, one of hope and miracles. Of course, wanting a perfect holiday and having it always fall short used to throw Clay into a tailspin of depression, drugs, and drinking. It was still the hardest day of his sobriety. Last year he did all right, however. He saw three movies on Christmas Day, one was a good, one was lousy, and he fell asleep during the third. The only places usually open were movie theaters and bars, and Clay had no business in a bar. No sense tempting Fate.
The soft refrains of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” filled the cab.
A sudden, sickening sense of dread filled his chest.
Did he think Daniel would be thrilled to see him after the way Clay ended things? What if Daniel rejected him?
Then what?
He had no car, no phone. He glanced at Nick, humming along to the radio. Maybe he would let Clay ride along on his deliveries… and suddenly Clay was that scared little boy in the church again. Not knowing where he would stay for the night, abandoned and alone. The memory hit him hard, stealing his breath.
The Christmas lights blinked from the greenery on the pew in front of me. Maybe Mama will get us a tree so Santa can find me this year. Laughter caught my ear, and I turned. The family behind us was leaving. I looked around.
Everyone was leaving.
My tummy began to hurt. Mama said she was going potty, but she’s been gone a long time.
Where is she?
“You all right?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Clay blinked hard and rubbed his chest, forcing the old memory back into the box where he locked away things he couldn’t face.
With a bitter sniff, he realized that box had been too damn full for too damn long.
Staring out into the snow steadied his racing heart. He wasn’t that frightened kid anymore, hadn’t been for a long time.
The song on the radio repeated the refrain about being home, taunting Clay with promises of mistletoe and presents under the tree. And where the lovelight gleams?
Whatever that meant.
“There’s the mayor’s place,” Nick announced. “You ready, Clay?”
He shot the man a look, startled by the serious note in his voice.
Didn’t have a choice at this point. “Yeah, sure,” Clay managed as Nick turned into a plowed driveway lined by snow-covered trees that faded into the blowing white.
I could wander off into the night and freeze to death.
“It’s going to be just fine,” Nick assured him.
Clay flinched once more.
Nick wore the expression of someone who knew more than they should or perhaps had seen more than they wished. Or maybe Clay was imagining this entire thing and he was actually dead on the side of the road. He’d learned long ago the mind could create some powerful illusions.
At the end of the driveway, a gleaming light filled the white expanse, a golden beacon of home to match the song still playing. Clay didn’t know what he expected Daniel’s house to look like, but he should’ve known it would be a log cabin A-frame with a big deck drenched in snow. Daniel always dreamed of building a log cabin.
Looks like he got his wish.
Clay’s heart skipped as the song continued to play, and for an instant, Clay felt like a soldier coming home for Christmas after a long and weary tour.
If only in your dreams, Fisher.
“This is where you get off, soldier,” Nick announced.
Clearing his throat when the truck stopped, he offered, “Listen, Nick, I don’t know how to repay—”
Nick raised a hand. “No need. Just go in and make up with your friend.”
Clay studied the cabin, hunkered in between tall pines on one side and a barn on the other, bundled up against the elements. Smoke spiraled from the stone chimney, quickly captured in the storm and whisked away. Golden light spilled from the large windows and onto the white snow. Even through the storm, Clay could make out the colorful twinkling of a Christmas tree inside.
I don’t know if I can do this.
He looked at Nick. “Are you sure you shouldn’t come in? I don’t think Daniel would mind. The roads are getting dangerous.” It was ballsy to invite a stranger into Daniel’s house, but basic human decency wouldn’t allow Nick to go back out into the storm, right?
“No, no,” Nick assured him. “I’ve done this a time or two. I got it all under control.”
Clay nodded but didn’t move.
“Go on,” Nick encouraged. “I have more gifts to deliver tonight than just you.”
Chest aching, Clay let out a weary sigh and zipped his jacket. Then he shook Nick’s hand, engulfing it in both of his own. “Thank you again. And please be safe out there.”
Nick gave a rumbling, deep-belly laugh. “Oh, ho-ho! I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.”
Hesitating for another moment, Clay said farewell, then climbed from the truck and shut the door. He waved goodbye and hunched into the weather. Leaving fresh tracks, he hurried toward Daniel’s porch. The wind swallowed the sounds of the truck engine, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Nick had already disappeared into the storm.
Godspeed, friend, he thought, grateful for his guardian angel tonight.
He hoped that same good fortune would stay with Nick on his route.
Clay stared at the ominous green door—Daniel’s favorite color. With a fortifying breath, he pushed the doorbell. When he didn’t hear anything, he knocked on the door with a fist. On the other side, a dog barked.
His heart gave a pang at the sound. His white German Shepard Lola had died too young, only seven. Damn, I miss her.
Clay raised his hand to knock again, but the rumble of a man’s voice followed by the switch of a deadbolt stopped him. His heart skipped. This is it.
The door opened.
“Clay?” Hazel eyes met Clay’s, wide with shock.
At least he recognizes me. That’s a start. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Clay offered, “Merry Christmas, Daniel.”
Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and is the current President 2017 for Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.
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