Thursday, January 18, 2018

FALLING FOR HER

Title: Falling for Her
Author: A.C. Meyer
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 17, 2018 
“I was completely captivated by this book from the very beginning.” - Cleida R.
“Falling for Her brings learning that should never be forgotten: knowing forgiveness and second chances are deserved when you really love.” - Camila
“Falling For Her was an immensely sweet read with a few hills to climb.” - Red Hatter Book Blog
"It's a book, but could be a Hollywood movie" — COSMOPOLITAN Brazil

Music, fashion, and the vibrant landscapes of Rio de Janeiro set the stage for an uncommon love story.

Mariana Costa’s life is good. She has fantastic friends, is close to her family, and works a dream job at the internationally-renowned fashion magazine, Be. There is only one problem … she’s madly in love with the one man who is not only out of her league, but is completely unattainable: her boss.

Carlos Eduardo is confident, sexy, and established. He dates supermodels and runs a successful magazine. His life is perfect; or was perfect until he admits he has feelings for the most unlikely object of his affection. His assistant is smart, sexy, and everything he ever wanted in a woman—but she’s not only nothing like the women he usually dates, she is his employee, and therefore untouchable. But touching her is the one thing he can’t seem to resist.

Outside the office, Cadu and Mari explore tenderness and passion. But they are from completely different worlds, and when those worlds collide and threaten to destroy not only their fragile bond but the very magazine they work for, they must decide whether falling in love is worth risking it all.
A.C. Meyer is a real book lover. Not satisfied with just read it, her restless mind decided to write her own happy endings. Mixing fun and romance, she reaches the romantic comedies´s tone that amazes her readers from beginning to end.
In 2016, Enchanted by you, After Dark series's book four, was nominated best romance by iBooks.

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Tuesday, January 16, 2018

WHERE MY HEART LIES

Title: Where My Heart Lies
Series: A Spawn of Chaos Novel
Author: Angela Marie
Genre: MC Romance 
Release Date:  January 10, 2018
Nicola

You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you fall down and can’t be bothered to get back up.
My entire life had been one endless beating, and I’d reached breaking point.
I was done.
Until a letter gave me the strength I’d been missing.
Those precious words gave me enough courage to dust myself off, to try one more time.
In that moment I realized something.
I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
And I had an entire family I didn’t even know existed standing at my back.
Irish
You know you’ve hit rock bottom when putting powder up your nose is the only way to make it through the day.
My life took a wrong turn, so I poisoned my body in an attempt to escape.
I was done.
Until I found salvation on the back of a bike.
With nothing but the open road and the wind in my face, I found the courage to live.
In that moment I realized something.
I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
And my family might not be blood, but they were standing at my back.
Prologue - Nicola, 9 years old
The house is dark and eerily quiet as we make our way toward the front of the residence where the ‘formal living room’, as Mrs. Smith likes to call it, is located.  I have no idea what it looks like inside, as the door is always firmly shut. Mrs. Smith pointed it out to me when she showed me around on my first day here and told me that the room was strictly off limits. Stepping inside or even opening the door earned you an immediate punishment.

I’ve come to learn that within these walls, all it takes is a wrong word to earn you a punishment. Or in my case, speaking to the wrong person.

How was I to know that I couldn’t speak to the beautiful lady with the black hair and green eyes wearing the black vest over her brightly colored blouse? She was friendly. Mrs. Smith was very angry when she saw the two of us talking. She sent me inside with an angry rebuff and told me to wait for her in the kitchen. Talking to a stranger earned me a night in the punishment box.

The nightly curfew of eight o’clock has come and gone, meaning all the other children are in bed. Tucked under their covers, lying on a comfortable mattress, cozy and warm, waiting for sleep to carry them off to dreamland. I hear Mr. Smith’s shuffled footsteps upstairs, going from room to room and switching off the last of the upstairs lights, bathing the house in darkness.

I hate the dark, only because I'm afraid of what I can’t see, making falling asleep difficult for me. Every bump and creak startles me, and my overactive imagination conjures up frightening pictures which leaves me shaking in my bed. Voicing those fears gets you nothing, and especially not much-needed comfort. The Smiths don’t believe in such things. 

“Hurry up,” Mrs. Smith hisses, pushing me to walk faster. “We don’t have all night.”

I want nothing more than to drag my feet, draw this out as much as I can, but I know that it will only be delaying the inevitable.

The closer I get to the room, which houses the punishment box, the sicker my tummy feels. Suddenly we’re there. 

Mrs. Smith flicks on the light switch, bathing the room in light. The walls are unadorned, painted a stark white color, the floors dark polished wood. The smell of the lavender-scented beeswax used on the floors lingers in the air. Thick white curtains that are closed cover the large window, making the room cold, dark, and foreboding.

Directly in front of the drawn drapes sits a large wooden chest. The dark wood of the box is rough and weathered, the intricate design that was painted on it eons ago faded.

The faint odor of bleach pours out when Mrs. Smith opens the lid. The smell makes my stomach turn even further, as well as making my nose burn and my eyes water. The box doesn’t look very big, and I wonder how I’m going to lie in there the whole night.

Mrs. Smith gives me a push toward it, clearly wanting me to get in. Climbing into that thing is the last thing I want to do, but a glare from Mrs. Smith forces me to do so, and quickly.

“You’re not to move from here till morning, not even to go to the toilet. A word of warning—if you wet yourself, you’re going to have to lie in it all night, and come morning, you’re going to be scrubbing the inside of that thing. With bleach. Leaving the box means another night of punishment. Is that understood?”

I just nod and try to hold the tears I can feel burning the backs of my eyes. I lie on my side and seconds later the lid slams shut, plunging me into darkness.

The crash of the lid echoes in the small space and right through my body, causing me to shake. I’ve just gone from a brightly lit room to total darkness in a matter of seconds. I raise my hands to the front of my face, but I can’t see them. I try again and again, but the result is the same. I begin to panic, bile slowly rising from my stomach. I beat at the roof of the box with my tiny fists, my voice small and sobbing at first, growing louder with each passing second as I beg to be let out. A swift kick to the box silences me. I wrap my arms around my belly as my breath comes out in rasps.

“Shut up,” Mrs. Smith shushes. “You’ll wake up the whole house with your screaming. If you do, you’ll be spending another night in there.”

Another night?

I cringe, my muscles tensing, my body going rigid. I hold my breath to stop myself from whimpering out loud, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. Silence fills the box. I hear Mrs. Smith’s footsteps as she walks out the room, turning off the overhead light, the click of the door shutting letting me know that I’m alone.

I take a deep breath before curling into a ball, pulling my nightshirt over my legs. Despite it being the middle of summer, the temperature sticky and humid outside, it’s cold within the confines of the box. I can’t stop shivering. I lie as still as I can, my small hands clapped firmly over my ears.

After a little while, my hip starts to hurt from lying in a fetal position on the bare wood. I try to find another comfortable position, but I don’t think there is one inside this box. It’s meant to be uncomfortable; it’s a punishment, after all.

One night within its confines is supposed to make you grateful for everything the Smiths do for you on a daily basis. They’re the ones who took me in when nobody else wanted me. They provided me with a roof over my head and three meals a day. They provided the clothes I have on my back and even the opportunity to go to school and learn.

The last thing I feel is grateful.

I would trade it all in to be back in the small trailer I called home. To feel my momma’s arms around me as she read me a bedtime story. I would even gladly eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of my life, if it meant that Momma would make them in her own special way.

The older children had warned me that the punishment box could be frightening the first time, but it would get easier each time. I don’t think that’s even possible.

I’m scared.

Terrified of the endless darkness that surrounds me.

My eyes are closed tight, my arms wrapped around my still trembling body. My chest feels tight, and breathing in and out has become difficult. A wave of dizziness hits me, leaving my whole body weak. My heart is beating so fast, almost like it wants to jump right out of my chest.

I try my hardest to conjure my mother’s image in my mind. I want her beautiful face to comfort me, her voice to whisper soothing words to calm me, her arms to wrap around me and hold me close.  

Momma, I miss you so much!

I allow the tears I’ve been holding in just minutes ago to fall freely. Here in this box, I allow myself to cry knowing that I won’t have to explain my tears to anyone. Won’t have to risk punishment for mentioning my mother. Mentioning her name within the walls of this house has been forbidden. I’ve been told to forget about her existence and the life I had with her. But how do I do that when I miss her every day?

According to the Smiths, I’ve been given a second chance at redemption, by God and his earthly church. A chance to have my mind, body, and soul cleansed of the evil that flows through it. That’s why I was brought to the Smiths. They are going to make sure that by the time they’re done with me I am good and pure. Ready to serve in whatever capacity I’m needed within the church. The woman who birthed me and the biker scum who fathered me will be nothing but a distant memory.
Angela Marie was born and raised in South Africa, but now calls the sunshine state of Queenland, Australia home. A wife and mother to two almost teenagers she loves nothing more than to curl up on the couch at the end of a busy day with her husband and an action movie.
Her love of read and writing started from a very young age and she loves nothing more than dreaming amazing stories with interesting and diverse characters which she can't wait to share you with.

 
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Thursday, January 11, 2018

THE HAIL YOU SAY

Title: The Hail You Say
Series: Hail Raisers #5
Author: Lani Lynn Vale
Genre:  Romantic Suspense
Release Date: January 11, 2018

iScream Book Blog - “I have such a weakness for damaged, broken, bad boys and his story really has me tied in knots.”
A Small Girl, Her Man, and her Books - “GAH! Just when i think i've figured out my favourite Lani Lynn Vale novel, she releases another book that makes me rethink the whole thing.”
Cat’s Guilty Pleasures - “It had just the right amount of heartache and heartwarming moments.”

Get out!
He yelled those words at the love of his life twelve years ago, and to this day, Reed Hail regrets them. He’s always been the type of person to speak before he thinks, and apologies have never come easy.
It’s been over a decade since she was his, and he stubbornly thinks that he can keep on living without her. 
He couldn’t be more wrong.
The last thing he needs is her vagina anywhere near his exam table. But nobody ever asks him what he wants.
Maybe he should’ve gone into the auto-recovery business after all.
I hate you.
Krisney Shaw would take those words back in a heartbeat if she could. In fact, she would take back everything.
Never meeting him would be the perfect place to start. The memory of Reed Hail haunts her—morning, noon, and night. Then, to add insult to injury, she has to see him being happy while she’s breaking a little more inside every single day.
Reed Hail is her worst nightmare because she’s constantly reminded of exactly what she’s missing—the other half of her soul.
Just when she thinks things can’t get worse, she’s sees his sexy, bearded face over the top of her paper gown, and she’s lost all over again.
Don’t ever let me go.
Both Reed and Krisney are determined to avoid each other. They do a great job of it, too…not.
One ill-timed gynecological exam changes everything. One single second in time shows Reed what he’s missing—literally and figuratively—and suddenly he’s back at square one.
The only problem with being back at square one? He won’t be able to leave her a second time.
Especially since the first time around he didn’t have a child with her to consider.
Routine. Just routine.

Yeah, right.


I knew this was going to be bad. I knew that I was about to do one of the stupidest things in the world.

Yet, that didn't stop me from entering the infirmary.
Every year we were required to see the doctor for an annual health evaluation. Mine was due two months ago, and I'd purposefully gotten out of it.
I'd tried to get out of this one, too. However, my superior looked at me, grinned that evil grin of hers, and told me in no uncertain terms if I didn't do it, I'd be relegated to desk duty for the foreseeable future.
She knew I hated desk duty.
Talking to people wasn’t my forte.
And now I was here.
Going into the one place that I knew I shouldn't be going.
The clinic in town was normally off limits.
The clinic near the base had an older than dirt male doctor that I was fairly sure was a pervert who kept working because he didn't get to see pussy that young anymore.
However, knowing that the old doc was off on the weekends, and Reed volunteered there for all the ladies that didn’t want to risk it with the pervert doc, led me to where I was today.
Where I knew he was.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
I’d gone to Germany to get away from him. He’d been assigned to the same base within a month of my arrival.
It might’ve been a coincidence, but I knew it probably wasn’t.
He did it on purpose. Just to watch me squirm.
I swung open the glass door, waved at the secretary who I knew but whose name I couldn't remember, and signed in.
"He's running about thirty minutes behind," the secretary said as she took my information. "I'll tell the ladies that you're here, though. You can go on back. The nurse will put you in a room.”
Of course he was, because the motherfucker liked to talk.
Fucker.

Asshole.
I walked back, met the nurse, and she guided me into a room.
“Here’s the paper gown. You can go ahead and change here behind the screen.” The nurse smiled. “The part goes in the front.”
I refrained from flipping her off.
I knew which fucking part went in the front. I wasn’t a dumbass.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I waited until she was completely out of the room before I changed, making sure the screen was completely covering every square inch of my body before I stripped my shirt off.
My pants went next, then my bra, and my underwear.
After slipping on the stupid gown—part in front—I folded the clothes precisely in on themselves, making sure that my underwear and bra were neatly tucked into my shirt before rolling my pants around the shirt.
I did not want him to see my underthings.
No sir-ree.
He was already going to see my breasts and vagina today. I didn’t want him to see that I wore the sexy underthings for some stupid reason.
Growling to myself, I picked up my phone and blasted off a text to my best friend.
She was probably asleep, but she’d answer when she woke up.
Somebody needed to be witness to this train wreck.
Might as well be Hennessy.
Hail No (Hail Raisers #1) - AVAILABLE NOW
Go To Hail (Hail Raisers #2) - AVAILABLE NOW
Burn in Hail (Hail Raisers #3) - AVAILABLE NOW
What the Hail (Hail Raisers #4) - AVAILABLE NOW
Hail Mary (Hail Raisers #6) - PREORDER 2/9
I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.
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