#BlogTour “Kevlar (Macha MC #2)” by Skye McNeil

Title: Kevlar (Macha MC #2)
Author: Skye McNeil
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: March 13, 2021
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

Second chances only come once for an FBI agent and her bad-boy biker in Skye McNeil’s motorcycle romance “Kevlar” (Macha MC #2).

Hunting down criminal motorcycle clubs is Nikita Stockdale’s job as an FBI agent. Her shadowy past is the reason she can’t let any MC slip through her fingers… until a case takes her unexpectedly to the man she thought long gone.

Kevlar Dorous is coasting. In his life and in the club. Recently home from deployment, he decompresses into his new normal. By chance, he sees the woman who kept him grounded in a rival MC bar, and Kevlar can’t help but want to save her.

When Nikita joins forces with Macha MC to take down a human trafficking ring, she has no choice but to return to her dark past in order to save the man she loves. Her well-thought plan goes awry and Kevlar must save her before it’s too late and she’s lost forever.

Will the club bring them together or tear them apart?

Available in Kindle Unlimited

AMAZON

> https://ctt.ec/j0ePF+ #BuyNow @Amazon #KU https://ctt.ec/ef62O+ #MCRomance #ContemporaryRomance #BAPpr “>

“Where are we going?”
Kevlar laced his fingers in Kita’s and grinned back at her. “You’ll see.” He opened the clubhouse door and started toward the garage.
“Please tell me you’re not going to show me a garage. I’ve seen those. Many of those.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I know you’re well-versed in that shit.” He led them through the garage and to the side door. Stopping there, he grabbed a helmet and handed it to her. “You still ride, right?”
A confident smile crossed her face. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” She quickly pulled on the helmet. “Now, where’s the bike? I’ve been itching to ride.”
“Well, you could always ride me to ease that urge.”
Kita propped her hands on her hips, the sass evident in her stature and face. “Still a smartass.”
He playfully swatted her ass. “Yeah, you do have a fine ass.” Before she could respond, he pointed to the motorcycle sitting outside the door. “That one. Rubble and I just put her back together the other day. It’s one of the Macha originals as he likes to call them. That guy can make anything mechanical.”
Standing back, he watched Kita carefully inspect the bike. Her tight leather pants tempted him to say screw it to the ride and simply strip her then and there and fuck her against the motorcycle. He let out a steadying breath. It wasn’t about him. Kita was tense and if memory served him, getting out on the road helped relax her. If not, there’s always sex.
“All right, Kita, you ready?”
She swung her long leg over the bike and patted the seat behind her. “Born ready, baby.”
Kevlar hopped on the back and strapped on his helmet moments before the motorcycle lurched to life. She took it easy the first few blocks. Once they were safely out of town, Kita didn’t bother to abide by the posted speed limits.
They zipped along the open road, swerving around cars. Only once did he feel the need to grab her hips. Which of course led to Kita laughing and picking up the speed another notch. He didn’t give a damn if he died riding bitch with this woman. She could have his entire life if she wanted it. He’d gladly turn it over for another moment like this with her.
The motorcycle hugged the curves perfectly. Kevlar made a mental note to relay the test ride to Rubble later so they could work out some of the shifting kinks he felt whenever Kita’s foot switched gears.
After thirty minutes, she pulled over and hung her helmet on the handlebars. She easily slid off the bike, years of doing the act second nature to her. Kita around motorcycles mesmerized him. There was so much about this woman that he didn’t know. He followed suit and walked over to where she stood at the edge of the road overlooking Snowshoe.
“This place is beautiful.” She turned slightly and met his gaze. “I see why you love it here.”
Kevlar swept his eyes over the valley and surrounding mountains. “It’s more my home than any place I’ve lived before.” He jutted his chin to the left. “Macha’s snow lodge is up there. Here soon, the place will be crawling with tourists and extreme sport enthusiasts. It’s kind of fun to be around honestly. Club life is never boring.”
She pushed back her long hair, the wind catching it behind her shoulders. It looked like a perfect modeling shot. A sexy woman in leather and a rocking body that he’d beg to touch. He could come on this image of Kita alone.
“Don’t ogle unless you’re planning on doing something, Macha man.”
The slight smile on her face made him take a step closer. He carefully slid his arm around her waist, his hand dipping between the fabric of her jeans. Goosebumps lined her skin on his contact, and she leaned closer into his chest.
“Don’t tempt me, woman. I’ll take you here and now.”
Kita turned toward him, gorgeous eyes pinning his boots to the dirt. “Prove it.”

Award-winning author Skye McNeil began writing at the age of seventeen and has been lost in a love affair ever since. During the day, she moonlights as a paralegal at a law firm favoring criminal law.

Skye enjoys writing contemporary and suspense romance novels that leave readers craving more and falling in love over and over. She writes contemporary and historical novels ranging from sweet and sassy to steamy and sultry.

Her constant writing companions two cuddly Australian Shepherds, a purring cat, and her daughter. When she’s not writing, Skye enjoys spending time with family, photography, volleyball, traveling, and curling up with a cup of coffee and reading.

AMAZON

#BlogTour “Risk It All (MacAteer Brothers #4)” by ML Nystrom

Title: Risk It All (MacAteer Brothers, #4)
Author: ML Nystrom
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 13, 2021, 2021
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

A woman with a painful past, a player who revels in being a bachelor, and an unlikely agreement that will turn their worlds upside down. Join bestselling author ML Nystrom in the Dragon Runners MC spin-off following the much-loved MacAteer Brothers.

Sometimes you gotta risk it all to get what you want.

Loveable rogue Patrick MacAteer works hard and plays harder. He lives for a good time, uncomplicated women, and being the center of the party, and he’s determined to not change that one bit. From the moment he walks into Gallagher’s Pub, his plan falters. There’s a pull and a connection there he finds hard to resist.

Pub owner Sloane is the driving force behind her bar. She makes drinks nightly, slinging both booze and her sassiness for her customers, but underneath, she’s hanging on by fraying threads. As soon as Patrick enters with his easy banter and his incorrigible personality, Sloan finds herself unraveling.

Can she trust him and his nonchalant lifestyle? Can he find the depth to be capable of love? Can both of them take a chance and risk it all?

AMAZON

> https://ctt.ec/6u2Iv+ Purchase your copy on your favourite platform https://ctt.ec/3Gr5B+ #BAPpr #RomanticComedy #ContemporaryRomance”>

She turned away to straighten the liquor bottles on the back wall display and tension pulled her muscles into rigid ropes. She hid herself from the celebrating bar and no one paid attention to the two tears tracking down her cheek. A thin hand came up to wipe them away and Patrick could see the fatigue on her face. Patrick kept his eyes on the struggling woman. He watched her bite her lip in an effort to keep it still and regain control.

Something about the song or the rough night? She had been on her feet serving, pouring, cleaning, and ringing up orders for the bar and the waitresses since before he and Angus showed up and Patrick hadn’t seen her sit down. Not once. He admired she had the power and energy to keep up all night. Long work days were normal for him as well, but he was a lot bigger and stronger than this tiny woman.

Sloane. Sloane was her name.

As if sensing his perusal, she lifted her eyes and met his in the mirror. Her tears dried up, and she lifted an eyebrow at him in a classic what-the-hell-do-you-want expression. He smiled and winked at her before he lifted the bottle in a private toast and tipped it back.

ML Nystrom had stories in her head since she was a child. All sorts of stories of fantasy, romance, mystery and anything else that captured her interest. A voracious reader, she’s spent many hours devouring books; therefore, she found it only fitting she should write a few herself!

ML has spent most of her life as a performing musician and band instrument repair technician, but that doesn’t mean she’s pigeon-holed into one mold. She’s been a university professor, belly dancer, craftsperson, soap maker, singer, rock band artist, jewelry maker, lifeguard, swim coach, and whatever else she felt like exploring. As one of her students said to her once, “Life’s too short to ignore the opportunities.” She has no intention of ever stopping… so welcome to her story world. She hopes you enjoy it!

UNIVERSAL

UNIVERSAL

UNIVERSAL

#BlogTour “Glasshouse” by Morwenna Blackwood

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cover

Now if I carry out this oath, and break it not, may I gain for ever reputation among all men for my life and for my art; but if I break it and forswear myself, may the opposite befall me.
~ from the Hippocratic Oath (translated by WHS Jones)

Psychiatrists, Drs Whittle and Grosvenor, have dedicated their lives to helping their patients, but their approach, and the complications it reveals, lead them into relationships that harm not only themselves.

As their lives entangle, both men find that doing no harm is not as cut-and-dried as they perceived.

Can the patients in their care really trust them? Or are more sinister motives at work?

Delve into the dark world of psychiatric institutions where doctors and residents play a dangerous game where no one is infallible!

Purchase Link – http://mybook.to/glasshousenovel

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Author Bio Morwenna

When Morwenna Blackwood was six years old, she got told off for filling a school exercise book with an endless story when she should have been listening to the teacher/eating her tea/colouring with her friends. The story was about a frog. It never did end; and Morwenna never looked back.

Born and raised in Devon, Morwenna suffered from severe OCD and depression, and spent her childhood and teens in libraries. She travelled about for a decade before returning to Devon. She now has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Exeter, and lives with her husband, son and three cats in a cottage that Bilbo Baggins would be proud of. Her debut psychological thriller, The (D)Evolution of Us, is published by #darkstroke, and has become an Amazon best-seller. When she is not writing, Morwenna works for an animal rescue charity, or can be found down by the sea.

She often thinks about that frog.

 Social Media Links  

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#Excerpt “The Watcher Girl” by Minka Kent

Amazon 

 


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A woman’s suspicions about her ex-boyfriend become a dangerous obsession in a twisting novel of psychological suspense by Washington Post and Wall Street Journalbestselling author Minka Kent.
 
Eight years ago, Grace McMullen broke Sutton Whitlock’s heart when she walked away. But it was only to save him from the baggage of her own troubled past. Now all she wants is to make sure he’s okay.
 
Only everything she learns about him online says otherwise. According to his social media accounts, he placed roots in her hometown, married a look-alike, and even named his daughter Grace. He clearly hasn’t moved on. In fact, it’s creepy. So Grace does what any concerned ex-girlfriend would do: she moves home…and watches him.
 
But when Grace crosses paths with Sutton’s wife, Campbell, an unexpected friendship develops. Campbell has no idea whom she’s inviting into her life. As the women grow closer, it becomes clear to Grace that Sutton is not the sentimental man she once knew. He seems controlling, unstable, and threatening. And what a broken man like Sutton is capable of, Grace can only imagine. It’s up to her to save Campbell and her baby now—but while she’s been watching them, who’s been watching her?

~~~


“So . . . what brings you back?” My father’s tone is pleasant, but his eyes squint as he studies me in the blue-green twilight of early evening.

The truth is complicated.

“Been gone long enough,” I say on a long exhale. “Thought maybe it was time to come home.”

Home.

I use the word for his sake. It makes him smile.

While I resided at 372 Magnolia Drive the first ten years of my life, calling it “home” would be a stretch at this point.

His dark eyes turn glassy, and his fingertips twitch at his sides. He wants to hug me, I’m sure, but he knows me too well. At least that part of me.

“Your room’s exactly how you left it,” he says instead of asking more questions. I imagine he’ll space them out, fishing casually for tidbits until he has the whole picture. An investigational paint-by-numbers. “Good to have you back, Grace. I mean that. Stay as long as you need. We’ll catch up whenever you’re ready.”

I thank him before grabbing my roller bag and climbing the winding staircase in the sweeping foyer. Every step rustles an unsettled sensation in my center, but I force it down with tight swallows.

I’m here on a mission, and as soon as it’s over, I’m leaving again.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, I’m greeted by an outdated family portrait—the original McMullens dressed in coordinating navy-blue outfits, the children hand in hand, grinning against the autumnal backdrop of some local state park.

There we are.

Frozen in time.

Blissfully unaware of fate’s cruel plans for us.

We were beautiful together—enviably happy from the outside.

Hashtag blessed.

My attention homes in on my parents, the way my mother gazes up into my father’s handsome face, her golden hair shining in the early evening sunset, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think their love for one another was equal and balanced.

I trace my fingertips against the burnished-gold frame before pressing it just enough that it tilts, off-center. Noticeable only if you stare too long.

I have no desire to rewrite history, and I have little patience for those who feel the need to do so.

When I reach my old room, I flick on the light and plant myself in the doorway.

My father’s right. It’s exactly how I left it: Dark furniture. Blue walls. Pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Perfectly made bed complete with an ironed coverlet and a million pillows.

Aside from the fresh vacuum tracks in the carpet, no one’s set foot in this room since the last time I was home my senior year of college.

I lock the door and collapse on the bed, digging my phone from my bag and pulling up the Instaface account for my ex from college and staring at his profile picture for the tenth time today—the hundredth time this week. Same coffee-brown hair trimmed neatly into a timeless crew cut. Same hooded, almond-shaped eyes the earthy color of New England in autumn. Same dimples flanking his boyish smile like parentheses. He’s exactly how I remember him, only with a decade of life tacked onto his face. Shallow creases spread across his forehead. A deep line separates his eyebrows. Maybe there’s a little more hollowing beneath his jovial gaze. But other than that, he’s the same as I remember.

I could describe Sutton Whitlock fifty thousand ways, but at the end of the day, I can sum him up in five words: he was a good man.

Eight years ago, I broke his heart—and not because I wanted to.

I had to save him from a lifetime of disappointment.

I had to save him from me.

But a handful of things have come up online recently—things that indicate he’s not okay.

I need to rectify what I’ve done. I need to apologize for hurting him. Explain my reasons. Give him permission to move on, to be happy.

And then I’ll disappear . . . again.

~~~

 
Minka Kent has been crafting stories since before she could scribble her name. With a love of the literary dark and twisted, Minka cut her teeth on Goosebumps and Fear Street, graduated to Stephen King as a teenager, and now counts Gillian Flynn, Chevy Stevens, and Caroline Kepnes amongst her favorite authors and biggest influences. Minka has always been curious about good people who do bad things and loves to explore what happens when larger-than-life characters are placed in fascinating situations.
 
In her non-writing life, Minka is a thirty-something wife and mother who equally enjoys sunny and rainy days, loves freshly cut hydrangeas, hides behind oversized sunglasses, travels to warmer climates every chance she gets, and bakes sweet treats when the mood strikes (spoiler alert: it’s often).
 
Want to hear about sales and new releases? Sign up for her non-spammy newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/cwOMSD

 

Facebook  Web   Goodreads   Amazon

~~~


#BlogTour “The Watcher Girl” by Minka Kent

Amazon 

 


~~~

A woman’s suspicions about her ex-boyfriend become a dangerous obsession in a twisting novel of psychological suspense by Washington Post and Wall Street Journalbestselling author Minka Kent.
 
Eight years ago, Grace McMullen broke Sutton Whitlock’s heart when she walked away. But it was only to save him from the baggage of her own troubled past. Now all she wants is to make sure he’s okay.
 
Only everything she learns about him online says otherwise. According to his social media accounts, he placed roots in her hometown, married a look-alike, and even named his daughter Grace. He clearly hasn’t moved on. In fact, it’s creepy. So Grace does what any concerned ex-girlfriend would do: she moves home…and watches him.
 
But when Grace crosses paths with Sutton’s wife, Campbell, an unexpected friendship develops. Campbell has no idea whom she’s inviting into her life. As the women grow closer, it becomes clear to Grace that Sutton is not the sentimental man she once knew. He seems controlling, unstable, and threatening. And what a broken man like Sutton is capable of, Grace can only imagine. It’s up to her to save Campbell and her baby now—but while she’s been watching them, who’s been watching her?

~~~


“So . . . what brings you back?” My father’s tone is pleasant, but his eyes squint as he studies me in the blue-green twilight of early evening.

The truth is complicated.

“Been gone long enough,” I say on a long exhale. “Thought maybe it was time to come home.”

Home.

I use the word for his sake. It makes him smile.

While I resided at 372 Magnolia Drive the first ten years of my life, calling it “home” would be a stretch at this point.

His dark eyes turn glassy, and his fingertips twitch at his sides. He wants to hug me, I’m sure, but he knows me too well. At least that part of me.

“Your room’s exactly how you left it,” he says instead of asking more questions. I imagine he’ll space them out, fishing casually for tidbits until he has the whole picture. An investigational paint-by-numbers. “Good to have you back, Grace. I mean that. Stay as long as you need. We’ll catch up whenever you’re ready.”

I thank him before grabbing my roller bag and climbing the winding staircase in the sweeping foyer. Every step rustles an unsettled sensation in my center, but I force it down with tight swallows.

I’m here on a mission, and as soon as it’s over, I’m leaving again.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, I’m greeted by an outdated family portrait—the original McMullens dressed in coordinating navy-blue outfits, the children hand in hand, grinning against the autumnal backdrop of some local state park.

There we are.

Frozen in time.

Blissfully unaware of fate’s cruel plans for us.

We were beautiful together—enviably happy from the outside.

Hashtag blessed.

My attention homes in on my parents, the way my mother gazes up into my father’s handsome face, her golden hair shining in the early evening sunset, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think their love for one another was equal and balanced.

I trace my fingertips against the burnished-gold frame before pressing it just enough that it tilts, off-center. Noticeable only if you stare too long.

I have no desire to rewrite history, and I have little patience for those who feel the need to do so.

When I reach my old room, I flick on the light and plant myself in the doorway.

My father’s right. It’s exactly how I left it: Dark furniture. Blue walls. Pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Perfectly made bed complete with an ironed coverlet and a million pillows.

Aside from the fresh vacuum tracks in the carpet, no one’s set foot in this room since the last time I was home my senior year of college.

I lock the door and collapse on the bed, digging my phone from my bag and pulling up the Instaface account for my ex from college and staring at his profile picture for the tenth time today—the hundredth time this week. Same coffee-brown hair trimmed neatly into a timeless crew cut. Same hooded, almond-shaped eyes the earthy color of New England in autumn. Same dimples flanking his boyish smile like parentheses. He’s exactly how I remember him, only with a decade of life tacked onto his face. Shallow creases spread across his forehead. A deep line separates his eyebrows. Maybe there’s a little more hollowing beneath his jovial gaze. But other than that, he’s the same as I remember.

I could describe Sutton Whitlock fifty thousand ways, but at the end of the day, I can sum him up in five words: he was a good man.

Eight years ago, I broke his heart—and not because I wanted to.

I had to save him from a lifetime of disappointment.

I had to save him from me.

But a handful of things have come up online recently—things that indicate he’s not okay.

I need to rectify what I’ve done. I need to apologize for hurting him. Explain my reasons. Give him permission to move on, to be happy.

And then I’ll disappear . . . again.

~~~

 
Minka Kent has been crafting stories since before she could scribble her name. With a love of the literary dark and twisted, Minka cut her teeth on Goosebumps and Fear Street, graduated to Stephen King as a teenager, and now counts Gillian Flynn, Chevy Stevens, and Caroline Kepnes amongst her favorite authors and biggest influences. Minka has always been curious about good people who do bad things and loves to explore what happens when larger-than-life characters are placed in fascinating situations.
 
In her non-writing life, Minka is a thirty-something wife and mother who equally enjoys sunny and rainy days, loves freshly cut hydrangeas, hides behind oversized sunglasses, travels to warmer climates every chance she gets, and bakes sweet treats when the mood strikes (spoiler alert: it’s often).
 
Want to hear about sales and new releases? Sign up for her non-spammy newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/cwOMSD

 

Facebook  Web   Goodreads   Amazon

~~~


#BlogTour “Prisoner” by Ross Greenwood

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Prisoner cover

Behind bars, the rules are different…

Prison Officer Jim Dalton is used to walking the landings on the male side of HMP Peterborough. It’s a dangerous place, fuelled by testosterone-driven violence, but he’s done the job for a long time. He understands the unwritten rules, and he has the prisoners’ respect.

When a relative is sent to the jail, Dalton is transferred to the female side of the prison. His next shift is so easy, he can’t believe that the officers over there get paid the same wages. He sleeps well for the first time in years.

But when he is assigned to the young offenders’ wing, dealing with female prisoners no longer seems so simple.  As every day passes, and he gets to know the women better, he is slowly drawn in to new temptations, new traps and a new nightmare. One which could destroy everything.

Taking a break from his bestselling DI Barton series, Ross Greenwood returns with this shocking, page-turning, and utterly compelling glimpse behind the bars of a women’s prison. From a man who walked the landings himself…

Purchase Link

Amazon UK

Amazon US

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Ross GreenwoodAuthor Bio

Ross Greenwood is the author of six crime thrillers. Before becoming a full-time writer, he was most recently a prison officer and so worked every day with murderers, rapists and thieves for four years. He lives in Peterborough and his first title for Boldwood – the beginning of a series – The Snow Killer was published in November 2019.

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#BlogTour “Borrowed Treasure” by Jessica Tastet

Borrowed Treasure Tour banner

Congratulations to author, Jessica Tastet on the release of her latest novel, Borrowed Treasure! Read on for more info and a chance to win a digital copy of the book!

Borrowed Treasure CoverBorrowed Treasure

Publication Date: April 13th, 2021

Genre: Womens Fiction/ Clean Romance

Publisher: Dandelion Wish Publishing

Sissy Ames has been driven to succeed her entire life. On her own, she’s turned her Bittersweet Café into a success, and she’s rebuilt a friendship with her cousin Harper after years of going it alone, but her past bad judgement in trusting Hunter Wells during their relationship continues to cast shadows on the future she’s trying to build for herself.

Hunter Wells has been coasting through life, working at the family business and creating the life that his family expects for him. He’d once hoped for a different existence, but he’d been forced to move on and make do after Sissy Ames had ended their three-year relationship without an explanation.

Even in their small town, the two have managed to avoid each other, but then Hunter’s fiancée, Sissy’s nemesis, disappears after a suspicious confrontation, leaving them both looking like likely suspects. The only hope they have of clearing their names and figuring out what led to the disappearance is to find the one item that drove them apart two years ago: The Ames BORROWED TREASURE.

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Excerpt

Sissy

Sissy Ames ducked behind the ostentatious flower arrangement with its oversized lilies and Hyacinthian sprays shooting out at unnatural angles. The thickness hid the center of the room but exposed her to the tableclothed tables lining either side where the overdressed elite of Thibodaux and its surrounding areas sat. Tonight represented everything she typically avoided, mainly so that she could stay out of the proximity of the woman commanding the center floor. Why her arch nemesis must flit around the ballroom gloating about her latest accomplishment was beyond Sissy. That woman’s pretentious fake smile and sickly-sweet voice had followed Sissy wherever she went in the large ballroom until her hands had begun to shake and her jaw to ache from the clenching.

Harper, her cousin, approached from the buffet table near the rear of the room. “The lobster bisque’s edible.” Holding out a tiny plastic bowl towards Sissy, Harper shrugged bare shoulders in defeat. Although the food lacked appeal, Harper certainly stunned in the black skintight number Sissy had sent over for her to wear tonight. Sissy had been right to prod the usually casual attired woman into vintage satin as it hugged her hips and showed off the curvy body that Sissy unfortunately did not possess. Sissy had inherited her mother’s straight form among other genetics she wished she could trade in.

Accepting the ecru soup, Sissy’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Cecelia Domangue, the bane of her existence since they were fifteen years old and fighting over president of student council. Currently, the petite blonde in a fuchsia Valentino stood chatting with a town councilman and the sheriff, her fake laugh chiming her existence from twenty feet away.

Sissy ran a clear plastic spoon through the watery consistency of the bisque. In her head she mentally critiqued the recipe’s minimal usage of cream. “Anything has to be better than that beef dish.”

Narrowing her emerald eyes, Harper twisted her lips and flashed Sissy a familiar look. Sissy’s cheeks warmed. Her resentment must be showing.

Sissy had submitted a bid to cater the fundraiser tonight in an attempt at a business expansion, but her bid had been accepted under condition. As the serving contract had been awarded to Cecelia’s restaurant Twilight Fare, Sissy would have to submit her recipes to Cecelia for approval and preparation. As if Sissy would ever turn over her recipes to the woman who’d opened a restaurant blocks over in her continuing effort to encroach on every aspect of Sissy’s life. Even if Sissy’s own Bittersweet Café catered to a different crowd than Cecelia’s Twilight Fare, that woman had branched right into catering which Sissy had cautiously tested the waters only a month before Cecelia had gone full blown into advertising her own services.

Harper glanced away to scan the room, and Sissy returned to the soup, which she knew she could have done better. “How long do we have to stay?”

Discarding the bowl, Sissy picked up her champagne glass from the table instead. At least they’d bought the good stuff. “We need to be sure the right people see our faces, but besides from that, the committee already has our hundred bucks a head, so I don’t think they care if we are here an hour or close the place down.”

Tonight’s fundraiser for the Downtown Revitalization committee had the special purpose of raising money to spruce up the downtown area with seasonal decorations to help promote the Christmas festival. The event had filled the local university ballroom with the social society of the small-town area and all its neighboring towns to be sure. As part of the committee, Sissy had aided in promoting the event, even though Cecelia’s recent addition to the committee had managed to sway votes and shut her out of the menu selections.

Harper picked up her own glass from the table and sipped. “I see a few local lawyers from Emmett’s last mixer. I’ll go over and say hello. If I’m lucky, I may get home early enough to speak to Emmett before the different time zones mean he’s sleeping.”

Sissy had Cecelia in her crosshairs, and she waited for her to prance to another unsuspecting guest, so she could emerge from behind the flowers that Sissy had voted against. Currently, Cecelia stood near Rudy Klingman, councilman for her district, who dropped in every Wednesday for a number six special, and she’d promised to propose streetlamps to him on behalf of the committee. Distracted, she asked Harper. “Any indication when he’s going to return from New York?”

Harper shrugged. “He says the case should wrap up in a day or two. I believe he’s enjoying it way too much.”

Sissy waved Harper’s doubt away with her champagned hand. “Pish, Emmett will be home soon, and you two will be making me sick with your sweetness.”

Harper smiled, her olive complexion flushing. “Okay, no arguing with my date tonight, especially since you drove. Let’s make our rounds and be out of here in thirty minutes.”

Sissy nodded and raised her flute in the air as if to toast. “That’s a plan I can drink to.”

Harper clinked her glass against Sissy’s, and then they departed into the mingling crowd.

Avoiding Cecelia’s group, Sissy slunk over to Suzy Rhodes, greeting a few of the lawyers and two judges that frequented her business for lunch during the week. In her two-piece blue suit, Suzy stood removed from the invitees, her eyes watching everyone. Her stance hadn’t changed since high school although she’d updated her attire to pant suits and cut her hair into a short bob she tucked behind her ears. Back then, she’d taken photos for the yearbook and everyone had wanted her attention to get within the pages. Today, she wrote a monthly column in the local entertainment magazine, specifically a review of local eateries. Sissy had attempted getting the café featured for months now, even sending a personalized gift certificate two months ago. The woman had never responded to the invitation nor shown up as even a patron, but Cecelia’s Twilight Fare had been prominently featured, not only as a food review but as a front-page feature on up and coming restaurant owners.

Suzy Rhodes smiled, her cheeks dimpling as Sissy approached. “Why, Sissy Ames, I’m surprised to see you at a swanky function like this. Not your usual soiree, huh?”

Plastering a smile on her face, Sissy drew upon her southern manners she knew lay beyond her desire to give the woman a good tongue lashing. “Since my café is located in the center of downtown, I have a vested interest in its revitalization efforts.”

Laughing airily, Suzy’s eyes wandered the room as if bored with the conversation. “Right, that’s true, your little café is down there. I never remember it’s there.”

Sissy raised an eyebrow, holding her glass closer to her lips. “I know. I’ve invited you several times as part of that little column of yours, but you have yet to accept my invitation.”

A short, fierce laugh escaped as Suzy’s eyes met Sissy’s. She returned to her survey of the room just as quickly though. “My lord Sissy, I can’t accept every invitation I receive.”

“Hmm.” Sissy scanned the room, her eyes naturally falling upon Cecelia, who stood facing Chef Homme from Le Homme, the elegant downtown restaurant. The two’s expressions revealed deep, serious conversation—too serious for a social mixer. “Is that why your material has been repetitive?”

Suzy’s stance shifted. “Excuse me?”

Sissy smiled, tilting her head. “Oh, I thought you were just so busy that you recycled material from the same four restaurants. Everyone has been talking.”

Sissy continued smiling as Suzy’s eyes lit with anger. The dark haired, flat nosed woman bit her tongue though. They’d all been raised too southern to truly speak their minds at events such as these.

“Well, it was nice running into you,” Sissy said, bowing her head in exit. “But I see a city council member I need to have a word with about lamp posts.”

Sissy pivoted, feeling a surge of confidence from the conversation. Moments ago, she’d hid behind hideous flowers to avoid her high school tormentor, but they had grown up, even though some didn’t behave as if they had. Cecelia and even Suzy hid behind country club houses and designer labels still, making others feel as if they didn’t measure up in the circles they all moved in. She had to remind herself in their vicinity that she was proud of her downtown renovated apartment and scavenged consignment finds.

Spotting Cecelia ahead on her path though, she pivoted and turned the other way to avoid her. She told herself that with her new found attitude, she would probably lose her southern manners and regret it later.

Her attention lingered too long over Cecelia, and when she turned, she hit a wall of black cashmere and white softened woven cotton. Reaching her hand out, she pushed herself away, inhaling the masculine smell of sandalwood and musk. From his chest hugging shirt, her eyes followed the Italian silk woven tie in its beautiful pastel green and yellow swirl pattern. The feminine color selection had been a brave choice for a function such as this where the men showcased their masculinity and their pocketbooks. So, he either didn’t know better or his power came with his name.

She continued on up to his tie’s perfectly anchored knot and landed on the chiseled jawline and soft brown, waiting eyes of Hunter Wells.

Her nose flared as she inhaled deeply, an awareness of their nearness. She took a step back.

“Excuse me.” Sissy felt her cheeks burn as the back of her neck flushed.

A light flickered in his warm chocolate eyes.

“Of course.” Hunter nodded, and his lip twitched. “How have you been?”

Hearing her heart pound in her throat, Sissy straightened her spine, bracing herself for the old anger to return, but his nearness tempered any old residual anger.

Available on Amazon and other Online Retailers!

About the Author

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Born and raised in Raceland, Louisiana, near Bayou Lafourche, Jessica Tastet uses the places and people of her childhood to create the backdrop of her fictional South Louisiana town in her Raleigh Cheramie series as well as her Treasure Trilogy.

An avid reader, she began writing stories in the sixth grade. The result was a mystery story she promptly shared with all her family and whoever she could convince to read it. She learned the first of many valuable writing lessons with this endeavor: don’t draw your characters too close to real-life people. Since then. she has earned her editing certification from the University of California and an MFA in Creative Writing from National University in California. Presently, she resides in her hometown with her husband and five teenagers where she works with Curriculum for the local school district.

Jessica Tastet | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

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Book Tour Schedule

April 19th

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

Books Rambling and Tea (Spotlight) https://booksramblingsandtea.com/

Jennifer Mitchell, Bibliolater (Spotlight) https://jennifermitchellbooks.com/

Jessica Belmont (Spotlight) https://jessicabelmont.wordpress.com/

The Cozy Pages (Spotlight) http://thecozypages.wordpress.com/

April 20th

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

Book Dragons Not Worms (Spotlight) https://bookdragonsnotworms.blogspot.com/?m=1

Breakeven Books (Spotlight) https://breakevenbooks.com

Rambling Mads (Spotlight) http://ramblingmads.com

April 21st

Shalini’s Books & Reviews (Review) https://bookreviewsbyshalini.com/

I’m All About Books (Spotlight) https://imallaboutbooks.com/

Misty’s Book Space (Spotlight) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Spotlight) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

April 22nd

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Phantom of the Library (Review) https://phantomofthelibrarycom.wordpress.com/

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Indie’s Review (Spotlight) http://indieproreview.blogspot.com/

April 23rd

Bonnie Reads & Writes (Review) https://bonniereadsandwrites.wordpress.com

Nesie’s Place (Review) https://nesiesplace.wordpress.com

The Faerie Review/ Lys Luna (Review) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

@bookishkelly2020 (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/BookishKelly2020/

Book Tour Organized By:

#BlogTour “Beloved Woman” by Sheri Peppers

Welcome to the tour for historical romance, Beloved Woman by Sheri Peppers! Read on for more details and a chance to win an Amazon gift card worth $15!

Beloved Woman Book Cover for toursBeloved Woman: A Historical Novel

Publication Date: January 2020

Genre: Historical Romance/ Historical Fiction

Beloved Woman, a Historical Romance takes place in 1705 in the Allegheny Mountains, South Carolina. Bryanna, a strong, privileged young English woman loses the love of her life, her father, to a brutal and bloody campsite attack by Iroquois renegades. Injured, and so full of grief, she grows determined to learn the ways of the Cherokee and become a respected war woman called Beloved Woman in the Cherokee town of Toxaway. This is the only way to find her father’s killer and have peace within herself once again.

Black Bear, the Red Chief is enamored by Bryanna’s courage and beautiful charm, so much that he desires to help her in every way he can. She rejects him blaming all Indians for her father’s murder. Still, his strength and determination bring them together as they face amazing obstacles to find the Iroquois renegades who were spreading havoc and murder across the great mountains. Can Bryanna learn the ways of these amazing people in this untamed land, and find her peace, and maybe love, once again?

Although the story is fiction, the customs, names of the towns, and ways of the Beloved Woman are authentic.

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Excerpt

She heard the deep pounding of drums a short distance away. Black Bear planned strategies in the Council House the entire day and she wondered if he were at the square now attending the dance. She ran a brush through her hair and allowed it to drape over her shoulders in thick waves of silk. Her heart thumped lightly taking her breath away as she pushed aside the curtain of her room to brave the coming evening.

Storyteller sat near the fire sewing diligently on another garment. She gazed up and stopped. “You are a vision, my dear.”

“Thanks to you and your fine talents,” she said, turning to give Storyteller a view from every angle, “I feel beautiful. I’m grateful.”

“That’s because you are beautiful.”

“Will you join the celebration tonight? Accompany me to the Town Square.”

“I will attend shortly. You go ahead without me. Have a pleasant time and try to keep open to our ways. Our event is quite joyous, but you must be kind in your judgment. Remember, this is not the colonies, nor England.”

“I will.” Bryanna stepped out into the cool night.

The Town Square rested in front of the Council House at the bottom of the mound. The pulsation of the drums grew louder as she came nearer. A rhythm of flutes fluidly intertwined with the drums creating an enticing temptation for the body to move and sway.

The Square came into view as she rounded the mound. Rattles joined in with the instruments while the center of the Square remained filled with people moving in a circle to the rhythmic melody of the music.

With their backs slightly bent forward, they stomped their feet, turning first to the left, then to the right. They whirled around repeating the movements over and over as they continued in a large moving circle. She had never seen such dance.

The permeating music floated seductively over the dance, igniting a warm flame within her. Along with the music, the movement of the dance emerged just as wildly passionate in its stirring rhythm as she swayed her shoulders in and out.

They all knew precisely what to do, flawlessly keeping in unison with each other. The dance came forth untamed, and the music portrayed a tremendous strength in who these people were. Now she understood what Black Bear meant when he said exhilarating.

Colorful feathers fastened in their hair and on their clothing bounced and swayed with every twist and turn they made. The feathers transformed into brief flashes of color melding together as they danced without any signs of fatigue.

Warriors wearing animal skins on their heads jumped into the circle imitating the kill and skinning of an animal.

This was a far cry from the gentle dance in England. She remembered tender flowing music, one person facing the other in minuet with hands gently touching. As these people danced before her, its strangeness loomed within her, leaving an overshadowing loneliness for what she once knew and loved.

The music changed, and they stomped and swayed to a new dance. Simply standing there, with a babe’s new innocence of their customs, she became gravely aware of her awkwardness.

She perused the Square, searching for the one familiar face whose tolerance would help fortify her fading nerve. Sitting among a group of men at the edge of the Square were a pair of familiar eyes that locked onto hers the moment her gaze came upon him. A smile adorned his face as he stood and approached her.

Bryanna’s breath caught in her throat as Black Bear strode toward her. His smile remained affixed on his face and she labored to keep her gaze upon it although the temptation to gawk at his body overwhelmed her. His breechcloth barely covered his extremities revealing long muscular limbs, honey-browned from life under the sun.

The currents of shivers returned moving throughout her body as she fought not to reveal her feelings. Still, she noticed no shirt on his back. The smoothness of his chest only accentuated his massive size and strength. A string of white wampum shells lay comfortably around his neck and dipped downward across the swollen hills of his sun-kissed chest. He’d tied back his black straight hair leaving high protruding cheekbones and glistening white teeth.

Concentrating solely upon his face did not comfort her. The strange quivering in her veins had a mind of its own traveling the full length of her limbs to the tips of her sensitive breasts. Her bosom heaved with each difficult breath as he halted before her.

“I find your extraordinary beauty quite imposing upon my manners as a gentleman. Those manners are quite difficult to sustain.” His chest maneuvered in and out as his hungry copper eyes consumed a path into the pit of her core.

Available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble!

About the Author

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Sheri studied writing and screenwriting at University of California Los Angeles, and Moorpark College in California. She is an avid history buff with an emphasis on the American Indian, and a former member of the Romance Writer’s of America. Retired with an 18-year background in aerospace, she now lives in Thousand Oaks, California, where she is working on a sequel to Beloved Woman and plans for several projects.

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#BlogTour “The Hashtag Killer (The Detective Jen Flowers Series Book 1)” by A. S. French

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cover

Catch a killer or save a child. What would you do?

DI Jen Flowers thought she’d seen it all after fifteen years on the force, but when a vigilante serial killer hits the city and uses social media to gather supporters, she must fight the public and her doubts to catch a murderer and save her daughter.

Suffering from blackouts and abandoned as a child by her father, Ruby Vasquez has been chasing that one scoop to make her an internet star. Living with an alcoholic mother who hates her, Ruby discovers a secret about the vigilante’s first victim, which puts her in the killer and DI Flowers’ sights.

Jen and Ruby have to overcome the secrets in their past while battling each other to discover the Hashtag Killer’s identity. Jen will have to choose between keeping her daughter safe or finding a killer, while Ruby will need to decide if becoming famous is more important than doing the right thing.

Purchase Link

Amazon UK    

Amazon US   

~~~

Andrew FrenchAuthor Bio  

Andrew French is a man of no wealth and little taste. He lives amongst faded seaside glamour on the North East coast of England. He likes gin and cats but not together, new music and old movies, curry and ice cream. Slow bike rides and long walks to the pub are his usual exercise, as well as flicking through the pages of good books and the memoirs of bad people.

Social Media Links 

Website, Twitter, Instagram, FB page

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#BlogTour “Lark and the Loon” By Rhiannon Gelston

I’m delighted to be participating
in author Rhiannon Gelston’s blog tour for her latest release, LARK AND
THE LOON
.

◊ Genre: Memoir with a Twist
◊ Publisher: WiDo Publishing (July 17, 2020)
◊ Print & eBooks
◊ Paperback: 284 pages
◊ ISBN-10: 1947966251
◊ ISBN-13: 978-1947966253

Lark and the Loon follows
the adventures of a tentative boy named
Lark, as he is catapulted out of all that he
knows, into a courageous journey beyond his wildest
imagination.

Upon receiving a special gift
from his Gramps, Lark embarks on a reflective journey of self-discovery as the
innovative story weaves the true-life memoir of his mother (the author) in with
a fantastical journey. With some special new-found friends, Lark travels back
and forth from a symbolic tree to his mother’s true memories of life and death
moments, and simple moments, found everywhere from wild Africa to their very
own living room. Lark and his friends must ascend this tree and gain the
important life lessons offered along the way if they ever hope to find their
way out. Within this journey, Lark finds these lessons, and ultimately himself,
in the space between imagination and truth in this wild tale.

The story explores friendships,
philosophies, and everyday challenges and joys, both from a child’s perspective
and from a parent’s perspective. This memoir with a twist results in a coming-of-age
story that ultimately leads to a new understanding of self, others, and the
world that surrounds us.

~~~

EXCERPT

Chapter 1

Lark

“Free to be you and me.”

—Marlo Thomas

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Lark slowly opened his eyes. He was in completely different surroundings once again. BEEP. BEEP. June was no longer here, and Lark was no longer there. Things were no longer red. They were mostly white with hints of vanilla and yellow, with bright lights and people. He looked quickly around and realized he must be in a hospital room: a small room with babies in metal cribs surrounded by beeping machines. Sitting in a chair right in front of him, yet totally oblivious to his sudden presence, was his mother. She looked so tired. She looked more tired than Lark had ever seen her before. Her hair was wild and unbrushed, and deep blue and purple circles cast a shadow under her big brown eyes.

Mommy was singing “You Are My Sunshine” softly in a chokedup whisper, colorless, salty tears streaming down her face, and somehow, Lark was here to see it. He was here to hear it. He was here to see and to hear but mostly here to feel. That was what the adventure was all about.

Lark didn’t start out adventurous. He started out impulsive yet hesitant, imaginative yet rigid. Adventure was something he had learned how to do, over time. It was a choice, and like anything else, it took practice. Sometimes it was hard. Sometimes it was easy. No matter what, he found it always seemed to be the right choice if he managed to get out of his own way.

To do that, Lark needed to let go and just go with the flow, and in doing so, he was able to become his true self. Some people spent their entire lives running from themselves, so afraid they would finally catch up with themselves and be forced to have a good, long, hard look at who they were and where they came from and where they were going. Forced to look at who they were becoming.

Lark had done just that; he caught up with himself. He had that good, long, hard look within, and once he did, he realized he didn’t need to look forward and backward so much; he found he needed to look within. With a glance to the side every now and then, he could see all around him. He could become.

Lark learned all this by the time he was ten.

~~~


LARK AND THE LOON
is
available at AMAZONBarnes & Noble * WiDo Publishing. Also, be sure to add it to your TBR List
on Goodreads.

Meet the
Author


RHIANNON GELSTON
loves to
lose herself in all things creative. She enjoys writing, painting, live music,
traveling, sports, being outdoors, exploring, playing, spirituality, and energy
work. She has a BA in English and an MS in Occupational Therapy with a
pediatric focus. Rhiannon just had her first novel published. It is a memoir
with a twist called, LARK AND THE LOON, available wherever books
are sold.

Rhiannon grew up on Spa Creek in
downtown Annapolis. Home for Rhiannon will always be the sound of the halyards
hitting the masts on a breezy day, a pile of crabs saturated in Old Bay,
raft-ups with friends as kids cannonball off of the stern, and time with family
and friends, in, on, and around the Chesapeake Bay.

She lives in Annapolis with her
husband, their five lovely and lively children, and their black lab, McNasby.

Connect with Rhiannon on Facebook and Instagram.

Be sure to enter the tour wide
giveaway. It ends May 3. The grand prize is a $25 Amazon Gift Card and an eBook
of LARK AND THE LOON. The second-place winner has to be a US
resident as the gift is a signed copy of LARK THE LOON. The third-place
prize is an eBook that two winners will receive. If the Rafflecopter widget
doesn’t work, you can still enter by clicking HERE.

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Thanks for stopping by today.
Doesn’t this sound like an intriguing memoir?