#NewRelease “Something So Sweet (Honey Hill Book 1)” by Joy Avery

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A devoted small-town mayor confronts an old flame over the fate of a historic inn in this delightful romance from author Joy Avery.

Honeybees, history, and small-town charm are what Honey Hill, North Carolina, is all about. Its mayor, Lunden Pierce, will stop at nothing to protect the town’s historical landmarks and distinctive character. She’s Honey Hill’s greatest champion.

But everything changes when Lunden’s childhood sweetheart, Quade Cannon, returns to town. Though Quade has fond memories of his summers in Honey Hill, he has no use for the historic inn he’s inherited—or the honeybees living in its yard. His plan is to sell the inn and reap the rewards.

For Lunden, though, the threat to Honey Hill’s history means war. Determined to change Quade’s mind, she immerses him in the town’s charm and its honeybee culture. But while he’s falling for Honey Hill, he falls for Lunden, too—and the feeling is mutual. As their summer romance heats up, Lunden has a choice to make: the town she loves or the man who threatens to change it.

Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US

Amazon UK

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#NewRelease “A Fatal Night (Ryder and Loveday, Book 7)” by Faith Martin

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‘A light-hearted twisty thriller… Reminiscent of an Agatha Christie novel, with a great cast of characters. A real page-turner!’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

New Year’s Eve, 1962

As a snowstorm rages outside, Oxford high society gathers to ring in the new year at the city’s most exclusive party. This is a soiree no one will forget… not least because a guest is found dead in his car the next morning.

It seems the young man tragically froze to death overnight after crashing into a snowdrift – but when WPC Trudy Loveday and coroner Clement Ryder are called in to investigate, they discover a tangled web of secrets that plainly points to murder.

With everyone telling different stories about that fateful night, only one thing is clear: several people had reason to want the victim dead.

And if Trudy and Clement don’t find the cracks in each lie, the killer will get away with the perfect crime…

Perfect for fans of Betty Rowlands, LJ Ross and Agatha Christie, this mystery will keep you hooked until you’ve solved the case!

Readers LOVE A Fatal Night!

‘I just love this series… Faith Martin is the modern day Agatha Christie, deftly drawing her characters with a couple of lines… A delight as always.’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘Well written with likeable and credible protagonists… A perfect addition to this excellent series and perhaps the best to date.’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I thoroughly enjoyed reading it… Loved the interaction between the two unlikely main characters who complemented each other so very well as they tried to solve the crime.’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘[This] “who done it” is a bit of nostalgiaA great read.’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I’ve enjoyed most of Faith Martin’s books but this Fatal series is my clear favourite.’ NetGalley reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The Ryder and Loveday Series
Book 1: A FATAL OBSESSION
Book 2: A FATAL MISTAKE
Book 3: A FATAL FLAW
Book 4: A FATAL SECRET
Book 5: A FATAL TRUTH
Book 6: A FATAL AFFAIR
Book 7: A FATAL NIGHT

#PromoTour “Christmas in Rose Bend” by Naima Simone

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CHRISTMAS IN ROSE BEND

BY NAIMA SIMONE

“Simone balances crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters.” —Entertainment Weekly

The holidays have never been her thing. But Christmas in Rose Bend has more than one surprise in store…

Grieving ER nurse Nessa Hunt is on a road trip with her sullen teen half sister, Ivy, and still reeling from her mother’s deathbed confession: Nessa’s dad wasn’t really her dad. Seeking answers, they arrive in Rose Bend to find a small town teeming with the kind of Christmas cheer Nessa usually avoids. But then she meets the innkeeper’s ruggedly sexy son, Wolfgang Dennison.

Wolf’s big, boisterous family is like a picture-perfect holiday card. Nessa has too much weighing on her to feel like she fits—even though the heat between her and Wolf is undeniable. And the merriment bringing an overdue smile to Ivy’s face is almost enough to make Nessa believe in the Christmas spirit. But with all her parental baggage, including lingering questions about her birth father, is there room in Nessa’s life for happy holidays and happily-ever-after?

Rose Bend banner

AVAILABLE ON

AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | KOBO | APPLE | GOOGLE | AUDIBLE

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ABOUT NAIMA SIMONE

NaimaPublished since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”

She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

CONNECT WITH NAIMA SIMONE

AUTHOR SITE | FACEBOOKTWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS | BOOKBUB | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

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#PreOrder “Hiding in Alaska (Home to Owl Creek Book 4)” by Belle Calhoune

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A new life. A secret past…

Can this witness risk opening her heart in her new Alaskan home?

Forced to reinvent herself in witness protection, Isabelle Sanchez begins working for an Alaskan chocolate company under the alias Ella Perez. Her new warmhearted town is a peaceful refuge—as is the company of chocolate empire heir Connor North. She may never be able to tell Connor the truth about her fresh start…but can they find love despite her secrets?

Releases March 1, 2021

Amazon

From Harlequin Love Inspired: Uplifting stories of faith, forgiveness and hope.

Home to Owl Creek

Book 1: Her Secret Alaskan Family

Book 2: An Alaskan Twin Surprise

Book 3: Alaskan Christmas Redemption

Book 4: Hiding in Alaska

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#BookTour “Blood & Sand” by Jennifer M. Lane

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General Fiction (cozy small town fiction)

Date Published: August, 2019

Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing

 

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A tiny town. A broken tavern. And one woman searching for a place to belong.

Logan Cole is used to getting her way and what she wants more than anything is for her father to get out of jail and restore her old life in New York. All she has to do is wait for his scandals to fade and the online rancor against her family to subside. Low on cash and out of options, she takes a bus north looking for anonymity and stops in the smallest town she can find: Ramsbolt, Maine.

When she stumbles into Helen’s Tavern, she finds a place in need of a make-over and a grandmotherly woman who could use some help. Soon, she finds herself growing fond of the bar, Helen, and the town. She’s even found a friend in Grey, the local plumber. The tiny town puts her at a crossroads: keep hiding her identity to preserve her new reputation or let down her guard and reveal her true self to the people she’s grown to love. But the choice is ripped from her hands when tragedy strikes the bar and saving it requires every tool at her disposal.

Can Logan find a true home among the people of Ramsbolt Maine?

The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt is a series by Jennifer M. Lane, award-winning author Of Metal and Earth and Stick Figures from Ramsbolt. Fresh and heart-warming, the series tells the stories of a small town looking for belonging.

Purchase Links

Amazon

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Barnes and Noble

Books-A-Million

IndieBound

~~~

Excerpt

Chapter Thirteen

Grey lowered his voice and leaned across the bar. “What’s with all the whiskey sours anyway?”

Logan leaned in, close enough to smell his cologne. “Remember when I said I like revenge served cold? This is it.” She pushed away and turned off a tap, letting the foam settle in a glass of beer. “And no, the revenge isn’t for you.”

“What did the rest of the drinks do to you? Or is it all of us? You hate us, don’t you?” He folded his arms in mock disgust.

Logan rolled her eyes. “Is there a drink you want, or are you just here to harass me about the ones you don’t?”

“I want a Sazerac. And one of those bull drinks. And something else that isn’t a whiskey sour.”

“Okay, but you can’t have three because the law says two, and it’s called a Boulevardier.”

“You break the law for Dan and give him a six pack every night.”

Logan placed her hands on her hips. “Dan’s Dan. What can I get you?”

“The Boulevard. I liked it.”

“Boulevardier. It has three and a half ounces of alcohol in it. You sure you can handle that?”

Grey cocked an eyebrow in feigned disgust. “Make it a double, and I’ll give you a nice tip.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Tips were a sensitive topic. She needed them, she counted and recorded them with a level of detail that would make her dad’s accountants proud, but she hated her reliance on them, and she’d never accept them out of pity. She would earn it, not beg for it. She held her tongue, but shot him an icy look. It didn’t matter how good he smelled, she needed to draw a line somewhere. She turned to his drink, dropped ice into a mixing glass and added an ounce and a half of rye and a ounce of sweet vermouth, but there was no Campari on the shelf.

“Dammit. I must have run out and forgot to replace it.”

Logan left her bar spoon in the mixing glass and slipped into the back stockroom. Her least favorite space, it was the last frontier on her cleaning crusade. The shelves were overstocked with expired cans of fruit, old kitchen supplies from the bar’s days as a diner, and stacks of dusty table cloths. There was so much junk that the slivers of light that made it through the grimy window never reached the floor.

The light switch sparked when she flipped it. The bulbs barely had time to illuminate before she grabbed a bottle off a shelf and turned them off again.

At the bar, Logan twisted the cap off the Campari. She added an ounce to the mixing glass, stirred it until it was chilled, and strained it into a glass. From a jar she kept in the little fridge beneath the bar, she added a Luxardo cherry.

“Ooh, the good cherries.” Grey reached out a hand for the jar, and she swatted him away.

“These are for special occasions.”

He accepted the drink and set it on a bar napkin, another perk she’d been able to afford. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“I’m doing my part to keep the heating guy alive during our two hundredth consecutive day of snow.” She wanted him at a distance, but she still liked his company.

“Much appreciated. I’ve been meaning to tell you—”

Logan put up a hand. “Hold that thought.” She leaned in. “My arch nemesis is here.”

Arvil walked the length of the bar like an officer inspecting his troops, eyeing up glasses and bottles of beer. Unless an out-of-town customer who didn’t know better took a liking to the corner stool, it was empty in Arvil’s absence. Just as he expected it to be. He shuffled to the furthest seat from the door and shifted his weight until he was settled. He twisted in his seat and tugged his arms from his coat.

Logan placed a bar napkin in front of him, a welcome mat that kept his attention on the drink to come instead of whatever was missing.

“What’ll it be tonight, Arvil?”

“Thirteen. Thirteen days of whiskey sours. This whole thing is stupid. Egg whites in the winter. Nobody wants egg whites in the dead of winter.” He wrestled with his coat and fumbled it onto the back of the stool.

“You desperately wanted one a month ago when I didn’t have any egg whites. Remember? And people eat those little meringue cookies in the winter.”

“What’s that? I don’t know what that is.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Not your usual playful self today, huh? You know what meringues are. Those little poofs? Taste like peppermint or vanilla or whatever and… Never mind. Order anything you want. I’m not forcing you to drink egg whites.”

His lip curled in disgust. “Stupid frothy thing. Walk outside and your stomach turns to ice cream.”

“Sounds delicious to me. You want to sit there and complain, or you want to order something to drink? You’ve been here before. You know this is a bar, right?”

The trick to navigating Arvil’s mood was to offer a snappy comeback. If his cheeks burned red,  she’d be in trouble. But his eyes widened and lit up, and she knew it would be a calm night.

“Beer. Michelob. Bottle.”

She pulled one from the tall refrigerator, popped the top off, and placed it on his napkin. “I’ll start you a tab.”

Funny thing about Arvil, the less she tried to make him happy, the easier he was to get along with.

As another day of relentless snow drew to a close, Arvil led the charge. One by one her customers paid their tabs and made their way into the frozen air. The few stragglers closed their tabs, so Logan seized the opportunity to close early. She wiped down the bar, restocked the coolers for the next day, and prepped fruit. Anything to get a head start. She crouched on the floor behind the bar, moving aside jars of cherries and syrups in the small fridge to make room for containers of fruit.

“Logan!” Panic elevated Grey’s voice an octave. “Get the cash from the drawer and run. Come on.”

Were they being robbed? “What are you talking about?” She stood, and the acrid, bitter, sour waft smoke from a fire hit her. It consumed wood paneling in the back room and licked around the doorway, teasing at the bar. Did they have a fire extinguisher? There had to be one in the back. Her coat was back there. Her bag with her snow boots. They were expensive. Irreplaceable. She’d saved for so long, and without them, she’d freeze. The smoke alarm went off, the shrill screech assaulting her ears.

She lunged for the back room, toward the thick smoke that streamed through the door and Grey grabbed her arm. “Where are you going? We’ve gotta run!”

“I need my coat.” She screamed over the alarm. People rushed past them, through the door and into the lobby. Cold air pushed in, throwing smoke across the room. It stung her eyes, and she covered them with her forearm. “The safe! My boots!”

“There’s no time. We have to run.” Grey grabbed the donation jar for Glen with one hand and Logan’s wrist with the other. Flames licked around the stockroom door, they rushed out into the ankle-deep snow and across the street, where they stood with bar patrons and a few close neighbors in the motel parking lot.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911, but someone had already reported the fire. She was losing everything. Her coat and boots. Her job. The source of her self-worth. She took in a deep breath of cold air tinged with the sweet smell of smoke, but it did nothing to calm her or sooth the desperation. It only made her feel worse for Helen and Ramsbolt. Flames began to eat through the roof. At least she’d be warm soon.

“It was that wiring,” she said, mostly to herself. “That ancient wiring in the back.”

Grey stood behind her. “The light back there always sparked when you flipped the switch.”

“I know. Helen never fixed it. I have to call her.”

“I can do it—”

“No, it should be me.”

Logan dug her phone from her pocket and pulled up Helen’s number. “It’s Logan. I have bad news.”

“I already know.” Helen’s voice cracked, broken by the sharp edges of grief.

“How did you know?”

“The Garlands next door have a police scanner. She rushed over in her nightgown. They said everyone got out. Are you okay?”

Logan glanced behind her at Grey and counted the faces. The two women who’d been sitting closest to the door were there. The couple from out of town were huddled by their hotel door. Arvil leaned on a plastic chair, his face lit by the glow of the fire. He’d barely had time to make it out of the parking lot when it started. Now here he stood, his expressionless face tinted orange by the fire. Not even destruction could please the man. “Yeah. Everyone’s out. We’re across the street, in the motel parking lot. Grey grabbed Glen’s donation jar, but everything else…” Her mind was too busy, too scattered to count the toll. Like fireflies, the thoughts arrived and were gone, ungraspable. Her notebook. There were things at her apartment. The ledgers. A bar book. The rest of it gone.

“Should I come?”

“No. Definitely no.” Helen didn’t need to suffer the cold, and her spirit didn’t need to endure the vision of it. “The firemen are here and—”

“It’s all gone, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. There wasn’t any time. It just came out of the back room and…Do you have insurance?” Would it cover lost wages? Logan couldn’t bear to ask.

“It’s not the best policy, but I’ll call them in the morning.” Helen sniffed through the phone. “You should go home and get out of the cold. Get a good night’s sleep.”

People came from town, lured by the flashing lights and sirens. They walked up the street in clumps and gathered to watch it burn, a landmark consumed by an insatiable inferno. The melting sign. The charred bricks. “Yeah. You’re right. I will in a bit. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Logan ended the call and tucked her phone back in her pocket. She wasn’t even cold. The warmth of the fire reached across the road.

“I lost my coat in there.” Logan spoke to no one, but Grey was still listening.

He stepped forward and stood at her side. “You can get another one.”

“I sacrificed a lot to get that coat. I’ve never been this poor in my life. I don’t know how I’ll replace it. I hated that thing. It was ugly, but at least it was warm. Snow boots don’t come cheap, either.” It was a stupid thing to focus on, the loss of her coat and boots, while watching her work burn to the ground. She was lucky and grateful to be safe. But complaining about her coat kept her mind off the loss and uncertainty, and it kept the tears from streaming down her cheeks. Another job might not be so easy to find, let alone another boss like Helen. Customers like Grey. People who didn’t want to eat her alive. She’d only just begun to put a life together behind that bar.

The fire raged across the street, loud and bright behind the flashing lights and idling engines of the fire trucks. Water rushed from hoses, but it wasn’t enough to save the place. It was more than enough, however, to fill Logan with gratitude for the people who fought to save her home. For making her realize she’d even felt that way at all.

“Insurance. They’ll wanna know what was lost. Make sure Helen tells them about your stuff.” Grey bumped her shoulder with his. It was a friendly gesture, meant to console her, and the only human contact she’d had since she hugged her mother and moved to Ramsbolt. Part of her wanted to crumple into him, to fall into a hug with anyone, any random stranger.

The flames did their best to battle the night sky, but they were no match for the dark. The firefighters doused the fire in what felt like no time at all. But when Logan checked her phone, three hours had passed by unnoticed. Unfelt. Nothing could penetrate the numbness. Around her, the people from town bounced on their heels, hands in their pockets. They sat in plastic Adirondack chairs scavenged from the hotel, blowing into their hands for warmth. Some dabbed at tears with sleeves and tissues. Others stared in disbelief. Murmurs and soft chatter washed right over her. They’d all lost a thing they loved, but Logan had lost the only thing she had. She was back where she started, with nothing to lose, a defiant girl with no skills and no promise.

Her old world had been full of easy fixes. Pick up a phone and call a lawyer, call a bank, make a request or a polite demand. Now, every solution seemed as distant as the stars, and the only thing on Logan’s side was the luck that went up in flames.

She shivered as the fire died out and the cold set in. Next to her, Grey cleared his throat. His words were soft, almost a whisper.

“That thing I was gonna tell you,” he said. “I signed you up for that bar competition. I feel kinda bad about it now.”

~~~

About the Author

A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials. She is the author of the award-winning novel Of Metal and Earth, of Stick Figures from Rockport, and the series of stand-alone novels from The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt, including Blood and Sand. Visit her website at https://www.jennifermlanewrites.com/.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Goodreads

Instagram

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RABT Book Tours & PR

#BookBlitz “Blood & Sand” by Jennifer M. Lane

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General Fiction (cozy small town fiction)

Date Published: August, 2019

Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png  

 

A tiny town. A broken tavern. And one woman searching for a place to belong.

Logan Cole is used to getting her way and what she wants more than anything is for her father to get out of jail and restore her old life in New York. All she has to do is wait for his scandals to fade and the online rancor against her family to subside. Low on cash and out of options, she takes a bus north looking for anonymity and stops in the smallest town she can find: Ramsbolt, Maine.

When she stumbles into Helen’s Tavern, she finds a place in need of a make-over and a grandmotherly woman who could use some help. Soon, she finds herself growing fond of the bar, Helen, and the town. She’s even found a friend in Grey, the local plumber. The tiny town puts her at a crossroads: keep hiding her identity to preserve her new reputation or let down her guard and reveal her true self to the people she’s grown to love. But the choice is ripped from her hands when tragedy strikes the bar and saving it requires every tool at her disposal.

Can Logan find a true home among the people of Ramsbolt Maine?

The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt is a series by Jennifer M. Lane, award-winning author Of Metal and Earth and Stick Figures from Ramsbolt. Fresh and heart-warming, the series tells the stories of a small town looking for belonging.

Purchase Links

Amazon

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Barnes and Noble

Books-A-Million

IndieBound

~~~

Excerpt

Chapter One

Logan Cole had never been on a bus in her life. As she stretched her legs and stumbled onto the sidewalk at the tip of Maine, she cursed the eight hour learning experience and swore never to do it again.

The last stop before the border was less like a terminal and more like a dead end. No benches, no depot, no ticketing window. And no taxis. Just a little yellow house with leaning porch surrounded by scruffy blueberry shrubs. At least it wasn’t sweltering out.

She yanked her black Rimowa suitcase, one of the few things the FBI let her keep, from the bottom of the bus. She gave the driver a wry smile and thanked him for the trip. It wasn’t his fault a woman coughed and crinkled candy wrappers the whole way, and that guy with his earbuds in behind her never learned to sing.

“Six hundred miles better be far enough.” She mumbled to herself as she dragged the suitcase down the sidewalk, fumbling for her phone in her purse. It was a habit she still hadn’t broken, opening apps to fill a void, but she’d deleted Twitter, Facebook, and the rest of them when the threats started pouring in. Eight months, four court cases, a thousand stories in the news, and she still hadn’t gotten used to being without social media. Being disconnected was better than scrolling through contempt, though.

“Battery’s almost dead. Map won’t load. Damn it.” She walked back the way she’d come, past quaint little houses and blueberry bushes, back to the bar she’d seen a mile or so before. It was across from a cheap motel with moldy siding and mildewed plastic chairs. The bar itself was windowless and brick. Definitely not the kind of place where someone would look for one of the wealthiest people in the country. Or someone who used to be.

She paused at an intersection and started a text to her mom, a quick note to say she was far from the gossip and rumors, safe from tabloid headlines squawking about a Cole Curse, and nowhere near the internet trolls who flooded her notifications with threats, saying they knew where to find her and what they would do to her when they did. All because of her father.

She waited among the cigarette butts and rusted beer caps while her text bounced its way to France.

Delivered. Three dots appeared. Her mother’s reply came slow.

Good luck. Lay low. I’ll send money if I can. Try to blend in.

Logan sent back a smiley face and a greeting for her aunt and uncle.

Letting her phone fall back in her purse, she swallowed hard and tugged hem of her T-shirt down over her jeans. Her heart pounded so loud she wouldn’t be able to hear traffic if there’d been any. But the intersection was dead. The only other animate object in that town was the little orange hand blinking on the stop light, telling her not to walk.

The light changed and a little white man blinked, urging her to cross the street before it was too late. By the look of the town nothing was urgent. The only signs of life were two cars in the bar’s parking lot. They could be abandoned for all she knew.

A countdown timer marked off the seconds. Eleven. Ten.

Left to the motel. Straight to the bar. Neither option looked all that inviting.

For the first time since she left New York, rage, hot as the surface of the sun, boiled within her. She was supposed to be in an air conditioned office somewhere, running a foundation. Sipping a latte that came from cart. Logan kicked a beer cap into the street, and it skittered into a pothole.

Five. Four.

The little man on the pedestrian signal had his whole life together. He had purpose and goals and a job. He had an identity, and everyone knew who he was. Logan had all of that until her father screwed up, and the government charged him with money laundering and took it all away. All she had left were some comfy pants shoved in a suitcase and a cell phone plan she couldn’t afford. She squeezed the handle of her suitcase so tight her knuckles turned white.

Two. One.

The Do Not Walk signal blinked, and she crossed the street defiant.

The sidewalk rippled. Uneven slabs of concrete were mere islands, broken by the freeze and thaw of ice, lost in a sea of weeds and road dirt. She faced the bar.

When she opened that door, she would find herself in a whole new world. There would be questions. What was her name? Where did she come from? Maybe they would recognize her right away from the newspapers, the tabloids, Twitter. She wasn’t prepared for any of it, and she never would be. She didn’t even know how to fill out a job application. What was she supposed to say? I’m a Yale graduate with a degree in Art History, the daughter of a felon, and I’ve come to scrub your bathroom?

The sun would set in a few hours, and that motel did not look hospitable. The keys to a job and a cheap apartment were somewhere in that bar.

Taking in a shaky breath of Maine air, she held it in until her lungs soaked it up, then let out a steady stream of all she had left.

“Get in there and prove your mother wrong. You are still a Cole and Coles do not give up. We don’t stand on the sidewalk and talk to ourselves, either.”

Her whole future lay ahead of her. She just had to get by until her dad set it right. Shoulders back, head up, she opened

~~~

About the Author

A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials. She is the author of the award-winning novel Of Metal and Earth, of Stick Figures from Rockport, and the series of stand-alone novels from The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt, including Blood and Sand. Visit her website at https: //www.jennifermlanewrites.com/.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Goodreads

Instagram

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RABT Book Tours & PR

#Featured “Linden Hills: A Novel” by Gloria Naylor

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The National Book Award–winning author of The Women of Brewster Place explores the secrets of an affluent black community.

For its wealthy African American residents, the exclusive neighborhood of Linden Hills is a symbol of “making it.” The ultimate achievement: a home on prestigious Tupelo Drive. Making your way downhill to Tupelo is irrefutable proof of your worth. But the farther down the hill you go, the emptier you become . . .

Using the descent of Dante’s Inferno as a model, this bold, haunting novel follows two young men as they attempt to find work amid the circles of the well-off community. Exploring a microcosm of race and social class, author Gloria Naylor reveals the true cost of success for the lost souls of Linden Hills—an existence trapped in a nightmare of their own making.

AMAZON

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#PreOrder “An Alaskan Twin Surprise (Home to Owl Creek)” by Belle Calhoune

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The family he was supposed to have…

His runaway bride is back…

With twins!

The last person Gabriel Lawson expects to find in town is Rachel Marshall—especially with twin toddlers in tow. Gabriel refuses to risk his heart again on the woman who left him at the altar years ago. But working to renovate her mother’s house means he must spend time with Rachel and her adorable twins…and soon he can’t help but wish they were his family.

Amazon

Add to Goodreads

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#BookTour “A Baby Between Friends” by Kathy Douglass

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A BABY BETWEEN FRIENDS BY KATHY DOUGLASS

They pretended to be lovers.

But there’s nothing make-believe about the baby on the way.

When Joni Danielson recruits her best friend, Sweet Briar mayor Lex Devlin, to be her fake boyfriend for a wedding, it’s a no-brainer. But their staged kisses lead to real passion – and heartbreak when Lex pulls away. Now Joni’s in a bigger bind: she’s pregnant. Can she and Lex once again fake it ’til they make it – to a real relationship?

AVAILABLE ON:

AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOKS-A-MILLION | HARLEQUIN | KOBO | ITUNES | BARNES AND NOBLE | GOOGLE

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ENTER TO WIN

Kathy Douglass is giving away a copy of A Baby Between Friends to a lucky winner!
(Entrants in one of the one of the 48 contiguous states are eligible for a signed, print copy or digital copy. Entrants outside of the 48 contiguous states are eligible for a digital copy.)

CLICK TO ENTER

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Also available from Kathy Douglass:

How To Steal the Lawman’s Heart*
The Waitress’s Secret*
The Rancher and the City Girl*
Winning Charlotte Back*
The Rancher’s Return*
The City Girl’s Homecoming**
A Baby Between Friends* 

*Sweet Briar Sweethearts
**Furever Yours

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Kathy DouglassABOUT KATHY DOUGLASS

Kathy is a born reader who as a child always had her nose in a book. She went from reading Bobbsey Twins to romance novels. One day she stumbled upon The Shining by Stephen King and was hooked on horror. When she caught herself checking under the bed and looking in the closet for monsters, she knew it was time to put down the horror and return to romance novels.

Her return was short-lived. She started law school and soon her reading was limited to legal opinions. Then she discovered Harlequin romances. They were short enough to read in a week and she wouldn’t have to search her room before she went to sleep.

When her first child was born, she became a stay at home mom. Her second child soon followed, and reading was limited to children’s books.

All too soon her kids were attending pre-school. Kathy spent those hours renewing her relationship with romance novels. Soon she felt the urge to write the stories she wanted to read. In 2016, Kathy sold to Harlequin. Her first book, How to Steal the Lawman’s Heart, was released in February, 2017. Since then, she has released several more books with Harlequin.

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“Ice Lake (Psychologist Harry Cull Thriller, Book 1)” by John A Lenahan

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Ice Lake: A Gripping Crime Debut That Keeps You Guessing Until the Final Page (Psychologist Harry Cull Thriller, Book 1)

by John A Lenahan

Genre: Thriller & Suspense/Small Town & Rural/Organized Crime/Vigilante Justice

99¢ at time of posting!

Where everybody lies. And some people kill…

An electrifying debut crime novel and the first in a new series featuring psychologist Harry Cull. Perfect for fans of Michael Connelly, Peter James and Greg Iles.

An abandoned body
Deep in the woods of north-eastern Pennsylvania, the body of a man is found – shot three times, dumped under the trees where the local kids will find him.

A haunted psychologist
Psychologist Harry Cull, tormented by his past, arrives in the picturesque town of Ice Lake to help with the murder investigation. There he unravels a web of lies and deceit that leads to the dark heart of a community torn apart by fracking, drugs and murder.

A desperate killer
It’s not long before the second corpse turns up, this time a lawyer left for dead in the forest, and Harry finds himself on the trail of a twisted killer – who will do anything to keep the town’s darkest secrets buried.

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