Heather Lyons is known for writing epic, heartfelt love stories often with a fantastical twist. From Young Adult to New Adult to Adult novels—one commonality in all her books is the touching, and sometimes heart-wrenching, romance. In addition to writing, she's also been an archaeologist and a teacher. She and her husband and children live in sunny Southern California and are currently working their way through every cupcakery she can find.

AUTHOR LINKS:
Website: http://www.heatherlyons.net
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/heatherlyonsbooks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/_heatherlyons
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/heatherlyonsbooks/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6552446.Heather_Lyons
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/hymheather/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/29oQIt2
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/2Lkij 
​

Canada, 2165 AD. The Water Wars and a decimated economy have taken their toll. Anyone who doesn’t live in a military-patrolled metropolis lives in a clan. But being in a clan doesn’t mean safety.
And for a Ven like Roan Lee, it doesn’t matter where he lives. Safety is a luxury. So is freedom.
Roan is desperate to escape the governtary’s exploitation and torture. He is nothing to them but 54σK1, an artifact born from a genetic mishap. When the chance to escape arises, he makes a run for it—and encounters the lover from his past, twisting his future into a second chance he never expected.
As leaders of Clan Teach, Jace Ama and his wife, Cayra Diega, have enough difficulty keeping their people safe. When Roan is thrown to their feet as a prisoner, their marriage becomes an additional challenge. Jace still loves Roan, but where does that leave Cayra?


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29470767-for-the-clan?ac=1&from_search=true

Purchase:
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Clan-Archer-Kay-Leah-ebook/dp/B01G4UPOMS
Amazon (International): smarturl.it/FortheClan
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-the-clan-archer-kay-leah/1123820189
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/for-the-clan
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/635255
All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-fortheclan-2036637-341.html
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/for-the-clan/id1116768110?mt=11
BookStrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/for-the-clan
​

 Wow- this book was absolutely epic! The worldbuilding was just amazing as we're taken to a dystopian society with 5 vastly different societies of people. There's the Governtary, Metropolis, Clans, Rogues and Vens. As a war over the water supply caused all water to become contaminated, the world broke up into different societies with different standards. The clans try to scrape by a living on the land and have to keep moving to evade the opressive Governtary and their war with the Rogues. The Vens are a mutated species, considered a genetic mishap with magical powers and are tortured into submission for the crooked Governtary. The way that the author was able to tie all these different societies together was just amazing and breathtaking to keep up with. In the mix is Roan, who was abducted from his clan 15 years ago and unwillingly used by the Governtary. He escapes only to be captured again and taken to the Leader who also happens to be his childhood love. However, he's married to Cayra and deeply in love with her. They learn to develop their feeling for each other and what follows is an actually quite touching love triangle story that really plucked at my heartstrings and was beautiful to be a part of. I was completely gripped by this action packed adventure and found myself quite unable to put the book down for the life of me! With incredibly complex characters, palpable emotions and tons of intrigue, danger, love and excitement, this book had a little bit of everything and was a true pleasure to read! If you like dystopian fiction or action packed love stories, this is a must read for you! 

Archer Kay Leah was raised in Canada, growing up in a port town at a time when it was starting to become more diverse, both visibly and vocally. Combined with the variety of interests found in Archer’s family and the never-ending need to be creative, this diversity inspired a love for toying with characters and their relationships, exploring new experiences and difficult situations.

Archer most enjoys writing speculative fiction and is engaged in a very particular love affair with fantasy, especially when it is dark and emotionally charged. When not reading and writing for work or play, Archer is a geek with too many hobbies and keeps busy with other creative endeavors, a music addiction, and whatever else comes along. Archer lives in London, Ontario with a same-sex partner and their cat.

Author links:
https://archerkayleah.wordpress.com/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7923905.Archer_Kay_Leah
https://www.facebook.com/archerkayleah
https://twitter.com/archerkayleah

After losing everything, all seventeen-year-old Thea wanted was to be a normal teenager. Instead, she was attacked by a mysterious creature she thought only existed in fairy tales. Now thrown into the unknown realm of Faey, Thea is forced to determine the difference between reality and fantasy, in a world ruled by a dark elite and a society wracked by intolerance and prejudice. With the support of her new friends and a mysterious dark haired, blue-eyed guardian watching her every move, Thea will discover that when it comes to Faey, nothing is what it seems. Will her courage and desire to save this new world from darkness be enough? Or will Thea be the next victim to fall to the dark whispers of fate

​“No!” I screamed. It had happened again. This was the fourth night in a row I had woken up with a start, beads of sweat dampening my forehead and a sick feeling swirling in my stomach. Rubbing my face whilst trying to sit up I thought back to the same terrifying dream that had been haunting me for weeks now. Not that I expected it to be any other way. I mean, watching your parents die in a car crash will have that effect on you. The difference was that I was supposed to have died. I know it sounds crazy but there was no way I should have survived that; yet I had, and I was sure that the only reason I was still alive was because of the bright light that had emanated from my body.
We were supposed to have been setting off on a three-month expedition around India, but only got as far as our local town in Montana before it happened. One minute I was sitting in the back of the car fiddling with my iPod and the next second I’d heard Mom screaming. I’d looked up just in time to see a car skidding along on the road before it hit us side-on, flipping us into a ditch. Even now the fear I’d felt at the time – the fear of what was to come – still swallows me whole. Time had seemed to slow down as I had watched my mom and dad being thrown around as the car had turned upside down. Our screams had been overwhelming and I’d been reaching my breaking point, when suddenly all went silent and I had been engulfed in a bright, orange glow that had blinded me. Everything after that was hazy. I remember smacking my head on the window, which had been followed by an unbearable pain that had made my skull feel as though it would explode. I put my hand to my forehead, feeling a warm and sticky liquid trickling down the side of my face. Putting my hand out in front of me, I saw it was blood, but my fuzzy brain couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. It was at that point black spots started to creep into my vision, making everything seem blurry.
Then, however much I tried to stay awake, the darkness won and I slipped out of consciousness.

 Absolutely magical! Thea lost her loving parents in a car accident and was taken in by her best friend's parent to recuperate and deal with her grief. After being attacked in the forest by a dark being, she's quickly thrust into a hidden magical world of the Faey. She discovers she is in fact the elf princess of Faey and the rightful queen. Her best friend Eli and his family are part of the Thrill- tasked with protecting the royal family and will do anything to protect her. As she comes to terms with her newfound latent powers and throne, she must also adjust to her feelings for both Eli and the one her heart pulls to- Isaac. While a love triangle never really developed, she still must get her emotions under wraps as well as trying to figure out which powers she was imbued with. The descriptions of the Faey realm were absolutely magical and vivid- making me clearly see them in my own head and yearning to journey there myself! The characters were pretty complex and each and their own unique personalities. I absolutely enjoyed this fast-paced adventure and found myself unable to rip myself away until I finished it! I can't wait to see what the sequel may bring!

I live in Surrey, England, a short walk from the beautiful Windsor Park, with my husband Richard and our two gorgeous children Noah and Olivia. For me, writing is nothing short of an addiction and I often find myself sneaking out to my writing shed for just a few minutes, which can often turn into hours of pure, unadulterated bliss catching up with my characters and continuing their story. In-between writing, I teach in a primary school where there’s never a dull moment! I will also often be found Kindle in hand, reading a wide variety of genres but with YA fantasy and paranormal romance at the forefront of my reading list. Although I’m currently writing the second book in the Driel trilogy, other characters involving all things fantasy, paranormal and YA romance are jockeying for position, wanting me to write their story next, so watch this space! It is such a privilege to share my stories with you the reader. Thank you enough for taking the time to find out more about me.
To find out more about Liz, visit her website: www.lizkeelauthor.com

Enlightenment will be $0.99 during the tour.
Purchase Links:
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ibooks
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Extra links:
https://twitter.com/LizKeelAuthor
https://www.facebook.com/lizkeelauthor/
https://instagram.com/lizkeelauthor

Publisher's link to a Rafflecopter giveaway ​

In the final installment of the Sister Christian Series, the Court has demanded a hearing regarding Hannah's capacity. Hannah and Nick are falling deeper and deeper in love. Looking forward to a bright future together they begin planning their life together. A shadowy stranger from the past has set his sights on Hannah and her 3.5 million dollar trust fund. Is he really Rick MacNeill, the son Hannah thought died in the terrible fire at Saint Anne's? Is he someone sinister? The last of the family secrets come to light in this roller coaster ride of suspense, love, betrayal, and faith.

"Me? No, ma'am, I went to school at Saint Mary's Orphanage, that's where I grew up. But I was born at Saint Anne's." He'd been anticipating a reaction but when her eyes welled with tears and the hot cup between them spilled its contents over her hands it was more than he'd hoped, "Ma'am? Are you ok? Here let me take that."


Letting go of the cup she picked up a nearby dishrag to wipe the hot broth from her hands, "Clumsy sometimes, I'm sorry, did you get…did you get burned?" Even as she handed over the dishrag for him to clean his hands, Hannah shook her head slightly admonishing herself. Of course he'd been burned, what a stupid thing to say.


Settling the cup of soup down on his tray he gave her a smile as he held up his hands for her to get a really good look, "They don't feel anything. I got burned a long time ago all the way to the bone."


A bolt of ice shot down Hannah's spine as she wavered on her feet with her knees suddenly threatening to give out from under her. "I'm-I'm sorry about that."


"Why? You didn't do it, did'ja?"


With her throat threatening to swell so much it cut off her air supply and her knees growing weaker, Hannah grabbed her side of the counter to keep steady as she choked out a question, "What's your name?"


"Richard, my friends call me Ricky." Without waiting for her to reply, he slid the tray down the line where the nun was waiting to give him French fries and a chicken salad sandwich. Taking his customary seat where he could see Hannah serving people from behind the line he watched her excuse herself and run off into the kitchen.

Lisa Beth Darling is 49 years-old, lives in her hometown of New London, CT with her husband of 30 years, Roy and is mother to their two daughters. She is the author of more than fifteen novels along with several short stories and non-fiction books. When she’s not writing she likes to garden and is an avid movie buff.

Author web links:
Website: http://www.lisabethdarling.com
Blog: http://lbdarling.wordpress.com
Twitter: @lb_darling
Facebook: http://facebook.com/lbdarling
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1577311.Lisa_Beth_Darling


Purchase Links:
Kindle/Amazon (paperbacks available on Amazon)
https://www.amazon.com/Prodigal-Son-Sister-Christian-Book-ebook/dp/B01HSD5NTE/ref=asap_bc#nav-subnav
Nook
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/prodigal-son-lisa-beth-darling/1124249452
iBooks
https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/lisa-beth-darling/id411650358?mt=11
Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lisadarling

​Collin was who he was: simple and easy.
Me? I was jagged and complex. I wanted everything.
And despite how he made me feel—safe—it was clear to me that we’d never work out in the end.
That divide between us would always be there.
Because I’d never ask him to give up on the things he wanted.
And, while I sometimes wished I could be that person, I wasn’t.


Just seven more months. Then Jamie Benson can leave this goodbye town behind her and start her new life in Chicago. She can leave this place of broken glass and cracked sidewalks and rusted fences. This place that holds nothing good. She can leave the ghosts and spinning rooms and shattered promises in her rearview mirror and never look back.
But all the stories she’s been telling herself are threatened when, one night, while tending bar at her father’s hole-in-the-wall dive, she meets Collin—a boy who is good and honest and sincere in a world where everything is harsh and cold and detached. A boy who makes her feel safe. A boy worth staying for.
Will Jamie be able to untangle the truths from the lies? Or will the sins of the past swallow her whole?

​“Is this forever?” he asked into the silence.
It was one thing to come back and visit. It was something else entirely to come back for good.
“I don’t know,” I said.
His voice was quiet and strained. “So this is it?”
I looked at my father. Physically strong and wiry and yet so broken inside. Withering away. When was the last time I’d seen him come alive? How many years had his guitar sat silent in its case, collecting dust?
“What about Collin?” He asked.
My mouth dropped open, caught off guard.
“I see the way you look at him. It’s the same way I used to look at your mother—like she could save me.” His eyes flashed silver through the lens. “And the way he looks at you, like he wants to.”
Gone for a moment were the animosity and biting remarks. What remained was nothing but a raw, fragmented honesty, and I had to blink back the blur of tears.
“You can’t . . . People can’t save each other. Not in the way we want them to,” I said.
“No, they can’t,” he shook his head in agreement. “But he could be really good for you, if you let him.”
His words hit like a fist to the chest.
“You’re going to break his heart.”
But it was bigger than that. Collin would break. I would break. We would fall apart in a way I wasn’t sure either one of us could return from.
“I know,” I said, meeting his eyes. Because the least I could do was own up to the hurt I was responsible for causing. There was some honor to be found in that, wasn’t there?
Dad held my gaze, then bowed his head. “What is it about me that makes everyone want to run away?”
I studied him, his armor faltering for a moment, leaving him exposed. “It’s not you, Dad.” My voice softened. “Maybe everyone’s just tired of holding on to something that stopped existing a long time ago. Of pretending everything is okay when it’s not.” I stood up from the barstool.
“And maybe it just really hurts—how you gave up on us. On yourself.” I walked toward the door. Knowing that the world as we knew it was changing.
I stopped in the doorway and turned around, “I’m sorry this is hurting you. I’m sorry this is the way everything is working out. But this—me leaving, Nate leaving—it was set in motion a long time ago, and you never did anything to change the course.”
Then I walked out.

Author of The Charm Necklace and Running to Stand Still. Writer of stories about finding beauty in brokenness. 
She is a storyteller. Adventuer. Partner. Coffee drinker. Magic believer. Rebel with a gypsy soul. Lover of the woods and books, the woods and walks.
Born and bred in Detroit, Lauren grew up reading Harry Potter, watching Gilmore Girls, listening (and dancing) to a lot of music, and wondering why people do what they do. She graduated from Wayne State University with a BA in Psychology. Lauren lives with her husband, dog, cat, and bunny in Charleston, South Carolina.
To find out more and read her blog, Wonderstruck, visit www.laurenrosolino.com.

Links
Website: www.laurenrosolino.com 
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lauren-Rosolino/e/B00KYU7QVC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1468268297&sr=8-1 
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8306807.Lauren_Rosolino
Twitter: twitter.com/laurenrosolino
Instagram: instagram.com/laurenrosolino

Flight. Hyperspeed. Clairvoyance.
These are some of the powers gifted to the Rhodi, an ancient sect of assassins who defend Crescentia, a dystopian world with a dying hope.
Dyliana Fairsson is one of them. After losing her parents to a suspicious accident, she and her twin brother, Devin, join the Rhodi to avoid starvation. Under the direction of her master, Dylan struggles to learn the strength of her magic …as well as hide the growing scars on her wrists. Can Dylan become the warrior, the hero, she’s destined to be? Or is she fated to fall from the light into the darkness?

The first installment in the epic fantasy series by bestselling author Megan Linski, Rhodi’s Light is an action-packed thrill ride that will leave readers begging for more. 

Add to Goodreads

Buy Link:
​Amazon

​Something caught the corner of his eye. He glanced up and saw a figure at the top of the cliff near the road. He got out, locked his car and continued up the hill, feeling curious. That figure seemed familiar somehow.
When he reached the top, he’d finally realized that it was a trap. Twenty people smashed into his body, tackling him to the ground and quickly tying up his hands and legs.
“Well, that was easier than I thought. I still remember the time when you took down thirty-six of our best warriors by yourself. It would seem you are getting out of practice, pet,” a woman said slyly. He knew that voice.
“Rachel,” he breathed, closing his eyes.
The creature of darkness laughed. “You should show me more respect. I am the Red Huntress now.”
She was on a boulder fifty feet above him, with a black cat whose tail flickered back and forth quickly. Her eyes sparkled as she dropped down to meet him, her gray dress billowing around her as she floated through the air, her tomcat tucked tightly into her arm. She landed on bare feet in a rolling crouch, then strode over to him and gasped his head in her beautiful hand while the cat looked on dully. The others stepped back in a sign of humility, and she tossed her red hair over her shoulder carelessly.
Talidin sneered. “I don’t care what you call yourself, you’re simply the boss of a bunch of criminals, just like your old master.”
The thugs around her gasped, yet the Red Huntress only grinned. “And you, great Rhodi, are a freedom-taker and a dream-crusher.”
“Look who’s talking! Break up any other families lately?” Talidin spat at her.
“I have, but is that any of your business?” She pushed his face away. “I can be quite dangerous when I want to, Talidin. I was the only one you could never defeat.”
“And Tavana was the only one who you couldn’t,” he said triumphantly.
The Red Huntress sneered. “Your sister won’t be a problem once she comes crawling to me in order to save you.”
“Fat chance.” This was the moment he had been waiting for. He sprung up, the knots ripping in half with his strength. He charged at her, his fists raised to strike. Just before he landed the first punch Rachel whipped around, a glint in her eye.
The Red Huntress plunged a jagged knife into his side. He let out a gasp before he sunk to his knees, immobile.
Rachel knelt down and whispered into his ear, her voice as sickening as toxic syrup. “I’ll have you one day, Talidin. Mark my words.” She stroked his paralyzed face then turned to her servants. “Grab him and head back. We have little time to waste.”
Talidin passed out.


​

Forced into hiding.
Desperate to find their masters.
In the past few months since the attack on their home, twin assassins Dylan and Devin have grown restless. With the Rhodi facing extinction, they search for their masters Talidin and Tavana, only to discover they’ve gone missing. With nowhere to turn, the twins seek help from a pair of mysterious spies, only to find the trail gone cold, marked by hints of torture and destruction. 
Dylan and Devin piece together the events that led to the disappearance of their fellow Rhodi. As their enemies close in for the kill, Dylan discovers that some things are impossible for a Rhodi…but not for a tigress.
The stakes and romance are heightened in this epic dystopian sequel to Rhodi’s Light. Bestselling author Megan Linski brings readers a young adult fantasy with magic, mystery, and an epic adventure that races quickly to a breathless conclusion. 

Add to Goodreads

Buy Link:
​Amazon

Cities burn.
Governments fall.
Lives are lost in a desperate war...one the Rhodi are losing.
The world has been devastated by the tyranny of the Red Huntress. To save Crescentia, Dylan and Devin attempt to decipher the mystery of the ancient letter their ancestors left behind, the only hope of salvation for their kind. Dylan continues to fight foes both on the battlefield and within her own mind, all while wrestling with the confused feelings she has for Enfys, the alluring spy who has become devoted to her cause.
In the epic conclusion to the thrilling Rhodi Saga, one brave warrior will stand in the way of corruption, to take place before her destiny…or her death.

Rhodi’s Lullaby is the third installment in the suspenseful young adult dystopian series fans and critics are calling an original masterpiece in the epic fantasy genre.

Rhodi’s Light and Rhodi Rising are also available. Catch up on the entire series today!

Add to Goodreads

Buy Link:
Amazon

​

Megan Linski is the owner of Gryfyn Publishing and has had a passion for writing ever since she completed her first (short) novel at the age of 6. Her specializations are romance, fantasy, and contemporary fiction for people aged 14-24. When not writing she enjoys ice skating, horse riding, theatre, archery, fishing, and being outdoors. She is a passionate advocate for mental health awareness and suicide prevention, and is an active fighter against common variable immune deficiency disorder. She lives in Michigan.


Author Links:
Website│Twitter│Facebook│Goodreads ​
​

​Two girls. One kiss.
The last person Riya Johnson expected to run into at her new summer camp is Courtney Chastain—her childhood best friend and the girl who broke her heart after a secret, mind-blowing, life-altering kiss. She definitely didn’t expect to be sharing a bunk bed with her for four long weeks.
Courtney has what every girl wants—she’s beautiful, rich, and the object of every boy’s desire at Camp Pine Ridge. Too bad none of them make her feel an iota of what Riya’s kiss did all those years ago. But Courtney needs to uphold appearances at all costs—even if it means instigating an all-out prank war with Riya as her main target.
Neither girl can stop thinking about the other...but that doesn’t mean they can give up past hurts and take a chance on a future together.

Disclaimer: This Entangled Teen Crush book contains drinking, sexual situations, and a fairy-tale romance sure to make your heart melt.

Link to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30228357-keeping-her-secret


Purchase Links:
Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Entangled Publishing

​A breeze ruffled her ponytail and Riya's gaze snapped to the door. Courtney strolled in like a freaking Nordic Goddess with her head held high, cheeks flushed and skin glowing. Sunkissed legs stretched from a pair of sparkly sandals up for miles and miles until finally disappearing under the hem of low-hung white shorts. Flashes of smooth stomach teased as her pink top moved with every graceful step.
Riya's heart pounded in her chest. Courtney Chastain was trying to kill her. That outfit was a perfectly crafted murder weapon. Checking to make sure her mouth didn't hang open, Riya tore her gaze from Courtney and swallowed. Hard.
Beside her, Colt slid down the bench, away from Riya. Riya didn't know why until Courtney froze five feet from them. She glanced at Riya then shook her head at her brother. Colt rolled his eyes in response, patting the sliver of bench between them.
"Miss Chastain, please take your seat so we may continue," Bob Fazio called, a small chuckle breaking through his voice.
It was then Riya noticed she wasn't the only one distracted by Courtney's entrance. Excluding her brother, every boy in the room aged twelve to eighteen stared in their direction—and some of the girls, too.
Riya watched a wide range of emotions pass over Courtney's face in less than a second before she straightened her shoulders in some kind of resolve. Her hair tumbled to her elbows in gentle waves. Sighing, she tossed the golden strands over her shoulder before spinning and squeezing her hips between Riya and Colt.
The welcome talk continued, but Riya only caught fleeting fragments of the briefing. Something about the daily schedule and a talent show on the last day. Approximately 98 percent of her attention narrowed in on the seven inches of Courtney's white-silk skin pressed against Riya's outer thigh.
Riya took a deep breath to steady herself, but caught the sweet rose petal scent wafting from Courtney. She inhaled one deep breath, reveling in the heavenly smell, before shaking her head.
Ridiculous. She was being completely ridiculous.
She'd never let anyone have such an overwhelming effect on her. Certainly not someone like Courtney, someone who couldn't—or wouldn't—return her affections. Someone who had broken her heart four years ago and never once looked back.
Riya stared at her own shoelaces, actively un-focusing on the girl sitting next to her.
Trying to, anyway.
Next thing she knew, everyone stood around her and the room buzzed with conversation. The welcome event was over.
"Earth to Riya."

​Sarah is a 31-year-old YA author who currently lives in Orlando, FL. She believes that some boys are worth trusting, all girls have power, and dragons are people too.
She's a proud member of the Gator Nation and has a BS in Mechanical Engineering, but has switched careers entirely. She now works as an Event Coordinator for a County Library. She also blogs at YAtopia.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr | Instagram | Blog | Goodreads

​                                   
                         Sarah Nicolas’s Top Five Book Girlfriends

​In YA, we talk a lot about book boyfriends, (with good reason - HELLO Four, the Darkling, Daemon Black, Kaidan Rowe, Po, and the ultimate, Mr. Darcy! Get at me). But what about the lovely ladies? In Keeping Her Secret, I would love for readers to swoon over Riya (because I do!) and even Courtney (if reformed mean girls who have bucked 17 years of environmental homophobia are your thing).

So here’s my top five list of swoon worthy book girlfriends:


1) Beka Cooper from Tamora Pierce’s Beka Cooper series
I’ve been in love with Beka Cooper since the first chapter of Terrier. Beka is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, and she's been assigned to the toughest part of the city. Oh man, do I love a lady who isn’t afraid to dive into danger head-first and then get herself out of it. She’s smart, respectful of those who deserve it, and doesn’t take any crap from fools. While she only dates boys in the books, I don’t believe she ever says she doesn’t date girls, so I think I have a chance!


2) Mary Carlson from Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown
Quiet confidence is my crush kryptonite and Mary Carlson has it in spades. She is so good and sweet and kind and goes after what she wants with a comforting steadiness that makes me weak in the knees.


3) Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

I have always been a sucker for ladies who can tear you apart with their wit and words. I admit, I don’t think I’m a worthy verbal-sparring partner for Lizzy, but I would sure love to try. And it has always been my headcanon that Eliza is of the “You fall in love with a person, not their gender” camp.


4) Kaisa, the King’s Huntress from Malinda Lo’s Ash
*sigh* Can I just get a moment to revel in my mind’s image of this noblewomen and huntress? I fell for her the moment we saw her grieve so deeply for the stag she had just killed. It’s been six years since I read this book, but that first kiss between Kaisa and Ash still has me swooning.


5) Leila from Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel by Sara Farizan
Leila is a mess and I totally adore her. She’s got an undefinable charm and self-deprecating humor that goes just far enough. Her lack of self-confidence gets her into trouble when she lets Saskia lead her on for too long, but that only pushes her to become who she needs to be.


​I could go on all day, but that’s my top 5. What are some of your favorite crush-worthy literary ladies? (BRB, getting my TBR list ready for some additions!)

​Rescuing the man tied to a tree seemed like a rational decision. Claire is a smart, capable bookkeeper who happens to work at a martial arts academy. She has no idea the door she walked through to save the bound man would leave her trapped in 13th century Scotland. She is unable to regret the night of passion shared with Ian, even though it happened with the threat of death just outside the door. She pretends to be content with Ian’s friendship, knowing his people must come first. Compelled by honor and tormented by desire, is being his woman, while he marries another, enough?
Ian, Laird of the Draig Clan, is a man trapped by fate. Forced by necessity to marry a woman he has never met, her dowry is essential to save his clan. However, he is in love with the woman who saved his life and then spent one night in his arms. Duty prevents Ian from being able to marry Claire as custom, honor, and his heart demand. Drawn to her, believing they share the same desires and dreams in life, he finally offers her the only option available, a place by his side and in his bed.
Claire and Ian are bound together in love and then ripped apart by deception and a plot to destroy the Draig clan. Facing the final battle alone and unarmed, Claire saves them all. The ultimate challenge is forgiving Ian for sending her away.

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​Claire closed her eyes. “No, Ian.” Scooting back away from him, she sat up, forcing his body to give her space as her shaking hands tried to put her gown in order. “We should have never . . . this should have never happened. I need to go.” She rose to her feet only to nd him blocking her way. He wrapped his arms around her.
Ian spoke with the passion burning within in him. “Please, Claire, hear me. There is a way. You and I were meant to be together. Dinna deny that you feel it, too. ‘Tis nay only passion that binds us, it runs far deeper for us both.”
Not wanting to hear what he had to say, yet unable to move away, her head rested against Ian’s chest. Claire pleaded with him. “Please don’t do this. We both know what you need to do.”
Holding her tightly, Ian responded, “Aye, we do. But we can still be together.” Claire stiffened at the words. “Hear me before you assume. There are many in my position that have wed solely for gain. These men have done as needed, as I will do. Yet they have also kept what they wished to have, the woman who stirs their heart. I am trying to ask you to be this, the woman who is with me because of the love between us. We can build a life this way. It would be us together every day and every night. You would be mine.”
Ian’s words were barely spoken before Claire pushed him away. “You are asking me to be your . . . your . . .?”
Ian retorted quickly, “Dinna speak the word you reach for. It would never be that way between us.” His hands reached for her but were left with only air.
Backing away from his reach, she knew what he meant. Claire also knew that it was wrong in so many ways. How does he not see it? How does he not see the root of it? A strange yet welcome feeling of calm passed over her as she saw what Ian was missing. She willed herself to speak. “You don’t get it do you?”
Ian tried to close the gap between them only to have Claire back away. Ian stopped moving. “What I see is a way for us to be together.”
Claire laughed even as the tears began to fall. “You’ve never ever met her, this Mairi. What if . . . Ian? What if she is someone you could be happy with? You don’t even know.”
“It does nay matter who she is or what she offers, ‘tis obligation and no more.” Ian replied as his gaze searched her face.
She heard her voice from so far away. “But you don’t know. It could be a good marriage. I will not be in the middle of something that could be.” Claire’s sobs clouded her words. “I can’t take that risk, and I won’t. If you could be happy, I would only be in the way. Eventually things between us would change.”
Ian stepped closer. “Claire, she will never be you. You are everything to me. Dinna you see? In all ways I treat you as my own. You sit at my right at every meal. ‘Tis my dagger you use to cut your meat, the dagger that marks me as laird. ‘Tis your company I seek each day and every night. You wear the best I have to offer. I heed your council in all matters. We spend our evenings together before the re sharing and enjoying one another. I love you, Claire, and I ken that you love me.”
“And somehow that isn’t enough.” With all of the pain and anguish carried in her, Claire cried out, “It would kill me, Ian. She is going to be your wife. I know full well she will give you a family, the heirs you need. It would kill me to be waiting for you, knowing you were with her. Even if you despise her, it would tear me up inside.” Ian’s brow wrinkled as he absorbed her words, and she saw her meaning take hold. “I’m not that person, Ian. I can’t be that person. And if you love me, you won’t ask me to live like that.” Not waiting for more, afraid he would try to change her mind and that she would let him, Claire grabbed her skirts in hand and finally ran.

​In an attempt to save the world from destruction, physicist Major Samantha Sykes opens a door in time. Her plan to travel into the past to change the future has unexpected consequences. Trapped in 11th century Scotland, her mission is complicated by the love she never knew she was seeking.
Laird Faolan of the Draig clan has one desire: to claim the woman who fell through time and make her his. He will do everything in his power to convince Samantha that she belongs with him for all time.
Opening the door in time brings Samantha and Faolan together. Fate, destiny, and responsibility are at odds. The forces that brought them together may be their undoing.
Will their love survive Samantha’s journey back to her world to save time, or will the centuries that stretch between them tear them apart?

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​Faolan turned in the chair before the fire and stared at her with cold, dark eyes. Even bathed only in shadows from the fire, she could see that the warm chocolate gaze she remembered from the afternoon had been replaced by hurt and anger. Like a coward, she looked away and noticed the flames from the fire. The logs held the same pattern as the ones that burned in her hearth. Even hurt, he had left her the gift and made sure she was comfortable.
Samantha closed the door without facing the exit. Her hand held out the branch. “I wanted to thank you for this and for every other item you left on my pillow. It was only tonight I realized they were from you.” She stumbled through an apology. “Every single one made me smile.”
Still Faolan only stared, so she continued, “You left the hall today before I was finished. While it’s true that the safety of the men has to come first, that had no bearing on what almost happened between you and me. There is no way I would or could ever think about, I mean I wouldn’t . . . From the moment we rode onto your lands, my men have been safe. I’ve known that. So you and I have had nothing to do with them.”
Faolan looked away from her, and Samantha saw the dagger in his hands. Not held in threat, but his concentration seemed focused on the metal. He nally spoke while his hands toyed with the weapon. “What would have happened earlier if we had nay been disturbed?”
Samantha felt the sadness in her voice for what had been lost. “We would have had a perfect afternoon.”
Faolan rose to his feet and placed the dagger on the table. While he made no move to walk, he turned to face her. “I would have claimed you as my own. I would have kept you in that meadow until you agreed to enter my gates as my wife.”
“Then we would be there arguing, which ends the idea of a perfect afternoon.”
Her humor had no place in the confrontation, and she knew it as soon as the comment left her mouth. Faolan marched to stand in front of her. “Why is it more preferable for me to use you for quick pleasure than to ask you to stand by my side for all time?” He demanded.
The eyes that glared held no warmth and threatened to pierce the little control she still had. Boomer was right; Faolan deserved the truth, and she hated it.
Her hand reached up to touch his face, and Faolan stepped backward out of her reach. Tears pricked at the rejection. She mustered her courage. “I don’t have all of time to offer you.” Samantha told him everything she had explained to Boomer and finished with, “There is virtually no probability that I will return.”
The withheld tears fell when horror crossed his features. In the last few days, she had cried more than she had in the last five years. The emotions brought to the surface by involvement in life brought joy and pain. Unfortunately, the night before her would bring the strongest pain. Love had no place in her limited time, and she knew it.
“You are amazing and wonderful, and if I could be with you, I would without any hesitation. I can’t do that to you. Find a woman who will be here and love her.” Her words choked on a sob. “I know that your family is essential to making the future better. Continue this line and know that I wished I could have been here with you.”
Samantha wiped the tears with the sleeve of her gown, though more fell to take the place of ones erased. She added, “I’m close to finding my way back. I can feel it.” She paused to clear her throat. “In the morning, I’ll start to finish what I began five years ago. I only ask that the men can stay here if they choose. Only Boomer comes with me.”
Without a word, Faolan closed the short distance and pulled Samantha hard against his chest. Her face buried in the warmth of his chest as she cried and let out the anguish of goodbye. His hand held her braid while the other soothed her back, and she savored the last embrace.
When her sobs slowed, Faolan said, “I go with you.”
Her head shook. “You missed the part where your line needs to continue, and that means you stay here.” She left out that there was no way she would bring him into the misery left in her time.
The deep inhale could be felt as could the resignation at the exhale, and Faolan didn’t argue. When he spoke, he offered, “Your men are home here.”
“I know,” she whispered against his chest.
Samantha offered no resistance when he lifted her chin and shifted her body to find her eyes. “While you said a great many things, I dinna hear the word impossible.”
“Please don’t.” At his sweet thought, another tear fell.
His lips brushed her forehead, and he replied, “Spend the last of your days as my wife.”
She closed her eyes at the request. Samantha whispered, “Then what? How long will you wait for me to return when you know I won’t? I can’t do that to you.”
Faolan’s thumb wiped the moisture from her cheek. “Then I vow nay to wait.”
Against her wishes, the chuckle left her throat. She opened her eyes and found warm ones on her. Samantha said, “It’s probably for the best if I say goodbye.”
Samantha knew it would happen. Faolan lifted her face enough to place his lips against hers. Every brush sent tingles through her body. As his tongue sought entry, she complied. It began soft and sweet and carried an air of innocence. Then he demanded more as he pulled her body against his and kissed her with no control.
Faolan pulled away abruptly, he whispered, “Give me this night.”
The smile broke free on her face. It shouldn’t have surprised her that goodbye didn’t work. Samantha placed her hands on his cheeks and felt the soft stubble that graced his face at the end of each day. Her rational mind knew it would only make leaving harder. Yet the side of her Faolan had brought to life wanted him, wanted to know what it felt like to be loved by such an amazing man. She nodded. “Just now, Faolan. It’s all I have to offer you.”

Lisa began writing after reading yet another romance novel where the heroine needed a man to rescue her from physical harm. While a firm believer in the strong alpha-male hero in any story, she wondered what would happen if that hero met a woman who was able to take care of herself physically. Using her several years of Tae Kwon Do training and mixing in time travel, her multi-award winning debut novel, The Draig Series was born.

Lisa lives in the Chicago suburbs and is married to her high school sweetheart. They have two children and one very spoiled dog.


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​Maggie rose, pulled her skirts up, and waded into the water while Lachlan remained close on the beach, but she noticed he stayed watchful of their surroundings. The cool water was refreshing. She sighed then turned to take in the full view of him. “Would ye force a woman to do something she doesnae wish, if it got ye something ye wanted?”
Lachlan’s gaze returned to her. “Not unless it was for the good of the clan.”
An image of Conall flashed in her head, and she shuddered as dread washed over her. It was the answer all men in his position would give.
“But I would listen to her reasons,” he continued. “Sometimes women see things we dinnae.”
She breathed out. Even though her reservations about revealing her identity lingered, it was nice to know he was willing to listen. Would her reasons be sufficient to appeal to him as a man? She thought he might listen, because he didnae seem the type to force his sister into an abusive marriage. He’d let her go out on her own.
As squealing children ran by, cold droplets speckled Maggie’s legs, and she made a small shriek as the liquid sent chills through her. One of the boys heard her and turned then splashed her again. Suppressing a giggle, she reached down to cup a handful of water and toss it back. She dropped her skirt, and it fell into the water.
The lad laughed, and they continued back and forth. A stream of water hit her headpiece. She scooped up and aimed, but he ran just out of reach and took off to join the friends who were calling to him. Pulling the wet headpiece off, she ran her fingers through her hair, and when she looked back at Lachlan, he had a boyish sideways grin on his face. Well, it wasn’t that innocent. He suddenly looked as if he wanted to devour her.
Her chest tightened, and her core clenched. Something about the way he looked at her made her want to taste him, too, and she didn’t even know what that meant.
“Come here, lass.” His deep voice washed over her and sent waves of excitement coursing through her.
Swallowing, she sauntered toward him. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush to his chest as his lips crashed down on hers, causing tingles to erupt on her skin and need to ignite in her core. The kiss was warm and slow, strong and possessive. She melted into it.
When his tongue delved into her mouth, she returned the caress and rose up on her toes to get closer and her arms gripped onto his hips. Being in his arms held a strange appeal she wanted to spend more time exploring, learning why her body turned into a wobbly mess when any part of her brushed up against him.
Water spattered her cheek, and the kiss broke. The boy and his friends laughed, and she looked at Lachlan.
He had not been spared, either. Drops of liquid streamed down the side of his face. He looked dazed. She would have expected him to be annoyed with the boys, but he continued to study her as if she were the only person in Scotland. Fighting back the blush this time, she licked her lips. She wouldn’t be ashamed of wanting him.
“Ye know I want ye, lass.”
“Aye.” She wanted him, too.
His hand rose and caressed her cheek. It trailed down until one finger was left tracing her lips. She gasped. She started to quiver with anticipation, then he backed away. “Tonight,” he said.

There are two things Max “Deke” Deacon can always count on: his old high school teammates and Fitz Hawkins. But no matter how much Deke might secretly fantasize otherwise, a relationship with one of his best friends is off limits. Until one unexpectedly smoldering encounter has Deke and Fitz looking at each other in a whole new way.
Angelica “Fitz” Hawkins knows for a fact that it is not better to have loved and lost. After losing her parents, she’d rather lock up her heart and throw away the key than endure that kind of pain again. If that means giving up any hope of a lasting relationship, then so be it.
With Deke, Fitz finally feels like she's back in the land of the living. But she won’t risk another broken heart—even if it means saying good-bye to Deke for good. It’s up to Deke to convince her that the safest place she could ever be is right here with him.


Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/06/called-up-calling-it-novel-by-jennifer.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30237695-called-up

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​ “Hey, Dorie,” she heard from above her. “Do you know where Fitz wants these bottles of water?”
Speak of the devil. Fitz brought her head up a little too suddenly, banging it on the underside of the table. “Ouch!” Her hand going to the back of her head, she came up frowning, and...
Oh, God, was he this gorgeous before? Had he always smelled amazing?
Doing everything she could to keep herself immune from his physical charms, she spun on her heel. “Back here.”
Very specifically not looking in Deke’s direction so that she didn’t give anything away, she forced herself to act exactly as she always did around him. Except she suddenly couldn’t quite remember how that was. Did she flirt with him? Did she flat-out ignore him? Did she generally just go around in a state of low-level irritation? Because right now she had absolutely no clue.
She had even less of a clue as she bent down to open up the lid to the cooler and he crouched down next to her, his head so close all he’d need to do was turn it slightly to the left and his mouth would be on her breast.
And was that…?
Oh, hell, no, her nipples had not just hardened. She slapped her arms over her chest.
Because they had. And Deke, with his superhero sex god extra sensory perception, had definitely noticed. He at least had the decency to look down at the ground as he grinned.
“It’s the cold,” Fitz snapped. “From the cooler.”
Pushing the bottles down into the ice, Deke just answered, “You’d be amazed at all the bits and pieces I can warm up with my tongue.” 

A big believer in happily ever afters, Jen Doyle decided it was high time she started creating some. Jen is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as a member of the New England, New Jersey Romance Writers and Music City Romance Writer chapters of RWA. She is represented by Sarah E. Younger of the Nancy Yost Literary Agency. She has an M.S. in Library and Information Science and, in addition to her work as a librarian, has worked as a conference and events planner as well as a Communications and Enrollment administrator in both preschool and higher education environments (although some might say that there is very little difference between the two; Jen has no comment regarding whether she is one of the “some”).

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​I craned my neck to look up at him. Perfectly square jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones, even his profile was intimidating. “Where do you really live?”
He took a sip of his drink. “Ocala.”
That was hours from Miami Beach. “Then why are you here?”
“Why do you think?”
I made a pathetic attempt at humor. “You’re trying to get into my pants?”
His sideways glance was unreadable. “Trying? No.”
I wasn’t going to touch that. “So you just show off your real estate to random women who get kidnapped?” I was so damn uncomfortable in this designer showcase waste of money, I wanted to accuse him of being pretentious but he wasn’t. He was a Viking-sized beast of man who made no apologies.
“I show nothing off.” He tossed his drink back in one gulp. “You are not random and I do not bring women here.” The muscles in his forearm rippled as he set his glass on the coffee table.
I didn’t know if I believed him about the women but then it occurred to me why it might be true. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He didn’t hesitate. “No attachments.”
At first I thought he meant he wasn’t attached to anyone right now but then something in his tone made me question him. “No attachments like you’re not seeing anyone right now or no attachments like you don’t do relationships.”
“Both.”
I digested the information but instead of it putting me at ease, I was getting more uncomfortable by the second. My adrenaline was two fucked-up situations past spent and suddenly I wanted out of here. “I want to leave.”
Reaching in his pocket, he came away with keys. With one quick, swift motion, he tossed them at me and I caught them midair.
He lowered himself to the couch and spread his massive arms along the back. His biceps strained the fabric of his shirt. “Truck’s parked in the garage.”
“You’re going to let me walk out of here.” It wasn't a question because I knew he was full of shit. He wouldn’t even let André talk to me alone but he was going to let me drive off in his truck? He’d said I wouldn’t be safe alone and he was right.
He studied my face. “You are nervous.” He said it like it was an answer, not a statement.
“I think you want me nervous.” I didn’t know what he wanted or why he’d given me the keys. He was aloof as hell and he looked like he got off on making women sweat.
His gaze dragged the length of me, slow and deliberate. “I want a lot of things but that is not one of them.”
The sting of his earlier rejection made my face flush and anger surged. “Screw you.” In a spectacular display of my temper, stupid enough to think I was going to simply walk out, I made it all the way to the door.
His giant hand wrapped around my nape.

​Thanks to their large extended family and unconventional courtship, the Worthingtons have seen their share of scandal and excitement. But nothing has prepared them for this...
The Dowager Lady Worthington isn’t quite sure what to make of country-girl Dorothea Stern. As the granddaughter of the Duke of Bristol, Dotty is schooled in the ways and means of the nobility. But her sharp wit and outspoken nature has everyone in a tizzy. Especially their cousin, Dominic, the Marquis of Merton.
Prematurely stuffy, Dom was raised by his cheerless uncle to be wary of a host of things, including innovation, waltzing, and most perilous of all: true love. Still, there’s something about Dotty, beyond her beauty, that Dom cannot resist. But the odds are against him if he intends to win her as his bride. Will he choose loyalty to his family—or risk everything for the one woman he believes is his perfect match…

​“Kimbal,” Dom called to his valet.
“Yes, my lord.”
“I shall be dining at White’s.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dom scribbled a note to his friend Viscount Fotherby asking if he would like to join Dom for dinner. By the time he was dressed and had donned his hat, Fotherby’s answer affirming the invitation had arrived.
A short while later, just as a light sprinkle turned into a persistent rain, Dom handed his hat and cane to the footman at White’s and found his friend lounging in the room that held the club’s famous betting book. William Alvanley, another of Dom’s friends, was seated next to the window with another man staring intently at the rain.
He turned to Fotherby. “What are they doing?”
“Five thousand quid on which raindrop will reach the bottom of the sill first.”
Despite being close with many of the Prince Regent’s circle, Dom could not abide the excessive wagers his friends made. Alvanley would end up ruining himself and his estates at the rate he was going. “Are you ready to dine, or are you waiting the outcome?”
“Famished.” Fotherby tossed off his glass of wine. “Thought you weren’t coming to Town this year.”
“My plans changed.” Dom and Fotherby entered the dining room. “I have decided to take a wife.”
“Wife?” Fotherby choked. “Any idea who?”
“Not yet, but I have a list of qualifications. She must be well-bred, not given to fits of temper or strange starts, quiet, biddable, easy to look at—I must get an heir on her after all—know what is expected of a marchioness. And not prone to scandals. You know how my uncle hated them. I think that about covers it.”
“A paragon, in other words.”
Dom gave a cut nod. “Indeed. I could wed no one less.”

Bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them. She has just finished her first series, The Marriage Game, and her new series, The Worthingtons, began in April 2016.
She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, and a dog. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat cruising the Caribbean and North America. Europe is next!

Website: www.ellaquinnauthor.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor
Twitter www.twitter.com/ellaquinnauthor
Blog http://ellaquinnauthor.wordpresscom


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​It's been almost a year since the night of the accident that should have killed Grace. Nearly a year since her brother, Ash, sold his soul to save her. She survived, but that wasn’t the end of their story.
 Not even close.
 In the months since, Grace’s life has turned upside down. She can move objects with her mind, teleport in a blink of an eye, see dead people … and that's just the tip of the crazy train.
 And that would be fine, really … if she had any idea how to control it.
 Instead, she’s stuck in a body that does things she doesn’t understand. And now, the contract her brother made for her life is drawing to a close. Which means he’s running out of time before the demon comes to collect his soul.
 Unless Grace can find a way to save him.
 When an angel named Michael shows up with answers and an offer to help her, she jumps at the chance—and agrees to help him with his own mission as the price.
 Then she finds out that Michael is working with another demon. That the deal she’s made … is no better than the one from which she’s trying to save Ash. And she’s faced with a choice: turn and walk away, or try to save her brother—by working with the very monsters who have nearly destroyed them both.

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Linda Foster was born and raised in Colorado, where she still lives with her (very patient) husband, two (very spoiled) ferrets and (equally spoiled) dog. Linda became an avid reading enthusiast the moment she picked up her first book, and has grown steadily worse. By the time she was fifteen years old, her library had become too big for her shelves, and she was forced to donate all her books to the local school, just to make room for new ones. She started writing short novellas for her friends in middle school, and expanded into full-length novels several years later.
 
The Realm of the Claimed novellas are her first published work.
 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorLindaFoster/?fref=ts
Twitter: www.twitter.com/lindafoster86

​What's your super power?
The unique and completely useless power to injure myself in new and impossible ways that continually have everyone I know rolling their eyes, including my publisher.

If you knew you'd die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? 
I would empty out my savings account and fly as many of my friends and family as I could (and my many pets) somewhere warm and beautiful, to enjoy my last day with everyone I love.  

In which way would you like to make a difference in the world?
I think it’s the small things that matter the most. The tiniest gestures or good deeds that get passed from person to person can end up meaning so much. Anything to brighten someone's day. I work with 1,700 kids a day. Sometimes all they need to brighten their day is a hug, or someone to notice that they aren’t okay and to be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. It might not seem like a lot, but it’s so easy to change lives for the better, and I think that makes a true difference in the world.  

You're lost on a deserted island and … 
I’m good. My husband watches every survival show they make, so I would totally make it out alive. I know at least thirty different ways to start a fire. I’m great at fishing. I tan well. Hopefully I brought some paper and writing utensils. I could have all my shorts and all four books done by the time I signal the rescue boat with my bonfire loaded with green vegetation. (It makes darker smoke which is easier to spot—told you I’d survive.) Plus I could learn to be super awesome with a bow and arrow. I’m having nerdy comic book dreams about this now.  

Who is your hero and why?
My mom. She is an inspiration every day of my life. No matter what happens to her, she never lets it get her down. She is amazingly strong and the kindest person you’ll ever meet. She’s been a great role model, and cheerleader for everything I do. I hope I’m half as awesome as she is.

What were you doing the last time you looked at a clock and realized you had lost all track of time?
Every morning when I wake up and wonder how it could be 6am already!  

What book do you think everyone should read?
I hate this question. There are SO many good books to read. Everyone should just read as many books as they possibly can. If you are going to force me to choose, though, you can’t go write the The Infernal Devices Series by Cassandra Clare.

What kind of world ruler would you be? 
Oh goodness, I’d be awful! I have a bleeding heart so I would give everyone anything they wanted. Whatever I was ruling over would be completely bankrupt in less than a year. That’s what my husband says would happen if I won the lottery, too. 

Wow us with something we do not know.
I’m seriously a pretty boring person. I’m not sure I have anything to really wow you guys with. Oh! I’ve actually been to Hell. Yup, it’s the name of a small piece of land on Grand Cayman Island. 

​This is my world, my kingdom. I sit on the throne and control the empire I created.
My skill? Providing illicit pleasure to thousands. If there is a fantasy to fulfil, my company will provide it.
I am the Porn Prince.
The cold hearted producer at Stone Industries who creates the hottest porn in the business.
But every ruler has an Achilles heel, and mine is chaos.
Abigail Warner is chaos.
From the moment she entered my office my world was turned upside down. She is my passion, my fantasy and everything I never wanted in life. The chaotic infuriating mess of a woman is everything I hate and avoid.
So why can’t I stop watching her.
Why do I crave her?
One taste and I know she will destroy me.


Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/08/watch-me-by-ada-frost.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29630580-watch-me?from_search=true

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 Oh wow- this was one devilishly delicious read! When desperate Abby takes a job as a secretary at the leading porn industry in the business, she's bitten off more than she can chew! Both of her bosses are incredibly sexy- one light and fun , the other dark and brooding. They push her to her boundaries as she loves pushing their buttons back! Her snarky attitude and witty comments are just hilarious and I was grinning in glee as I was completely entranced by this book. Utterly addictive, I found myself absolutely unable to put this one down and walk away! With smoking hot sex scenes, hilarious situations and a taboo glimpse into the behind the scenes of a porn movie. this book was non stop entertainment that had me racing to see what would happen next! I highly recommend this one for anybody who's ever wondered about porn or erotica! And if you're into it already- this is an absolute must-read! 

So a little bit about myself. I love to read, and create stories for others to enjoy. I've always been told I have a vivid imagination, I just lacked the confidence to pursue putting it onto the written page. But finally I embarked on making a single dream come true.
I love to read, and write. I only read romance, any in that genre really. But it has to have a beautiful happy ending, I know reality isn't like that, but I read to excape real life not re-live it. Reality is too broken and jaded without having to live through the trauma and angst in a book for it to end unhappily.
I live in Yorkshire, England with my family, and many pets. When I'm not writing I am a very busy mummy and wife. My family is my world, my purpose and I am proud to be a part of their lives.


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​Ex-military pilot Seth Erickson is fighting his own demons, but when he finds Summer Silva, a beautiful, warmth-loving, Miami woman stranded in the frozen wilderness, he’ll do everything in his power to keep her safe from murder, treason, and the ruthless Alaskan winter.

When a mysterious stranger is your only hope...


The scars of the past have left their mark, both physical and emotional, on former military pilot Seth Erickson. Off-grid in the far reaches of the bitter Alaskan wilderness, he wants only to be left alone with his ghosts. But he can’t ignore a woman in need—beautiful, stranded and nearly frozen with fear.


Summer Silva never imagined that the search for her missing sister would leave her abandoned on a wintry back road, barely escaping with her life from a cold-blooded killer for hire. Now, hiding out in the isolated cabin of the secretive wounded warrior who saved her, Summer knows she must do what she fears most. Putting her trust in a stranger is all she has left.


All defenses are down


After a fiery first night together, Seth and Summer are bound by a need as powerful as a Bering Sea superstorm—and vulnerable to enemies just as fierce. For Seth, reawakened by desire, there is no sacrifice too great, no memory too dark, to keep Summer safe. But murder and treason lurk everywhere and Summer may not survive Alaska’s ruthless winter.

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Trouble welcomed me to Alaska. It ambushed me in the guise of an invisible patch of black ice that launched my car spinning into a triple Lutz. I pumped my brakes. Nothing. My rental careened over the ditch and bounced down the steep ravine. The rocks pummeling the undercarriage rattled my brain. I was distantly aware that the shriek piercing my eardrums came from my throat. My headlights illuminated the spruce that materialized before me, down to the huge, corrugated trunk that collided with the hood, bringing my involuntary detour to a jarring stop.
Silence. Only the sound of my ragged breath and my pulse, pounding in my temples, interrupted the atmospheric quiet. I pried my fingers from the wheel and stared at my shaking hands. They flickered in and out of focus until I managed to even out my breaths.
The good news? I was alive and, although the wreck had probably relocated some of my internal organs, nothing seemed broken. The bad news? The air bag hadn’t gone off and pain throbbed in my thigh and somewhere behind my ear. Crap. I’d come to Alaska to find my wayward sister, but my search had hit a major snag. Time to figure out how bad of a snag it was.
My hand was still quaking as I reached into my purse and found my cell. Zero bars. I groaned. What was the point of technology if it never worked when you needed it most? I snatched my purse and pulled on the door handle. The door refused to open. I scooted across to the other seat and opened the passenger side door, grateful to crawl out in one piece.
The cold hit me like a slap to the face. My nostrils flared and my lungs ached with the arctic wallop. To a tropical gal like me, the air smelled as though someone had stuffed a live Christmas tree in the freezer. Delicate snowflakes floated in the air like tiny speckles of silver. This was the first time I’d seen snow in real life. It was pretty, kind of magical really, but the cold crawled under my skin, stiffened my muscles and clung to my bones. I pulled my hood over my head. Had it been this cold when my plane landed in Anchorage?
My wrecked rental was wedged between the slope and the spruce like a deflated accordion. I had no prayer of backing it up the hill. I tackled the ravine, scrambling on all fours, and followed the wheel ruts up the slippery incline. It wasn’t easy. I wore a narrow pencil skirt under my Burberry trench coat, and a pair of four-inch heels I now wished I’d never bought.
It served me right for allowing my stepmother to choose my outfit for the Darius project presentation. Louise was a sucker for shoes—the taller, the better. Note to self: never again relinquish your feet to someone else’s sense of fashion when it’s you—and you alone—who has to suffer the resulting torture.
I’m not sure how long it took me to climb back to the road, but by the time I reached the top, my toes had gone numb, my hands ached and my fingertips had turned white. The road I’d been driving on looked totally benign, not like the camouflaged skating rink that had hurled my vehicle into the ravine.
I clapped my hands together to warm them up. The sound echoed for miles around me. Stuck in the Alaskan wilderness. Unreal. It was an unlikely predicament for a gal who’d much rather be at the beach. Shark attack? Sure, it wouldn’t surprise me if that ended up being part of my obituary. But frozen alive? Only if it involved a freak accident in Publix’s frozen food section.
“Summer Silva, get your act together,” I said out loud to break the eerie silence. My father hadn’t clung to a capsized raft for three days in the Florida Straits in order for me to die on my first day in Alaska.
I straightened my coat, shoved my hands into my pockets, and began to walk. A layer of slush-covered ice crackled beneath my heels. Crap. My feet slid every which way and my legs wobbled. Steady , Silva . I could handle the unwieldy shoes...on firm, unfrozen ground. The only ice I’d ever dealt with came out in little cubes from the automated dispenser in the freezer door.
Five minutes later, the cold skewered me and not a single car had made an appearance. I leaned into the bitter wind. I wasn’t made of sugar and spice. I was tough, and I meant to get out of this one, but I was majorly pissed. I was so going to give Tammy a piece of my mind when I found her.
I envisioned my sister lying on a white pelt in front of a roaring fireplace. I mouthed off into the deepening darkness. I was the levelheaded one. I was the one who always followed the rules, cleaned up the messes, did the responsible thing. And yet, right now, I was the one freezing my ass off on a desolate Alaskan road.
The headlights caught me by surprise. They sprang out from behind the curve and pierced the dusk. I waved my hands to flag down the speeding vehicle. As it got closer, I made out a Ford F-450 Super Duty, black as night, the type that would’ve made my truck-obsessed sister drool with envy. The truck drove right by me before the taillights lit up and it skidded to a stop, then accelerated in reverse.
The window whirred down to reveal the warmth and comfort of the softly illuminated cab. The leather-scented, heated air wafted from the window and teased my frozen senses. A man sat at the wheel, enveloped in a black thermal jacket that I would’ve gladly traded a thousand bucks for, on the spot. His face might have been handsome, if it hadn’t been distorted by the scowl that wilted my poor attempt at a smile.
He more or less growled. “Who the hell put you up to this?”
“Excuse me?” I clutched my hood against a sudden burst of wind.
“You better come clean right now,” he bit out in a tone that matched the frosty temperature. “A name. I want to know who the hell hired you and what you were expected to do.”
“Hired me?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” He eyed me like a wolf eyed a meal. “Who was it? Was it someone related to me? I swear, if you don’t tell me this goddamn minute, you’re going to be sorry.”
I stared at the man in the cab, unable to comprehend his rage. What on earth was he talking about? The fury blazing in his striking amber eyes frightened me. As it was, I was so cold I couldn’t think, let alone make sense of what he was saying. I rubbed the sore spot behind my ear. Maybe I’d hit my head harder than I thought. Maybe this was a dream or a nightmare. Oh, God. My stomach clenched. I really hoped I was awake. I shoved my hand up my sleeve and pinched my arm. It hurt. In fact, a lot of me was either throbbing or aching. A good sign, yes?
“Well?” he said. “Are you going to speak up or are you dumb, deaf, and mute?”
“Um, no.” I rubbed my arms. “I usually have a lot to say. It’s just that...well...I’m cold and you—I’m really sorry to have to tell you—but you sound like a crazy person.”
He launched another blistering glower in my direction. “For the last time,” he said, his tone intractable, “who the hell put you up to this?”
“Nobody,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My car skidded off the road and I’ve got no cell reception.”
“Your car?” He looked up and down the road. “I don’t see a car. Where is it?”
“Back there somewhere.” I’m not sure whether my treacherous heels slid on the ice or if fatigue did me in, but my feet went out from under me and, though I clung to the window, I landed on my knees. “Ow,” I might have said aloud.
“What the hell?”
I let go of the window and my dignity at the same time. I surrendered to the elements and settled precariously on the frosty ground. The cold iced my shins, traveled up to my core, and chilled my spine. I was about to pass out from exhaustion. I’d been up for over seventy-two hours. On top of that, I was suffering from a bad case of jet lag. If all of that wasn’t enough, the wreck had jarred my senses. I wasn’t in good shape and I knew it.
But I couldn’t allow myself to go unconscious. No, sir, no way in hell. I knew the risks of passing out in front of a stranger too well. I just needed a moment to gather my strength, defrost myself and get my act together. I leaned my forehead on the door and, basking in the warmth radiating from the undercarriage, forced myself to stay alert. Surely, I could get some help, the crazy man would go on his merry way, and I could move on to finish what I’d come to do.
The engine quit. The truck quaked with the slam of a door. Angry steps crunched on the road. A pair of hiking boots parked by my side. I looked up and cringed. The man’s scowl pummeled me. From my perspective on the ground, he soared above me, tall and imposing, a giant really. His knees cracked when he crouched next to me.
“Did Alex hire you?” he said. “Alex Erickson?”
“Who?”
“Are you telling me you don’t know who Alex Erickson is?”
“I don’t.”
His breath came out in angry puffs that condensed in the air. “Do you know who I am?”
“No clue,” I said. “Am I supposed to know?”
“You tell me.” He looked like he was about to spit fire. “If no one put you up to this, then what the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not taking a walk in the park, that’s for sure.”
My throat made this weird noise, a cross between a sob and a giggle, a sound that combined confusion with hilarity, fear with absurdity. But I wasn’t going to cry. No freaking way. I wasn’t going to panic either. The part of me that felt utterly ridiculous kneeling on the frozen pavement in the middle of nowhere won out. I pressed my hand over my mouth, but the quiet giggles leaked out anyway.
The man rubbed the back of his neck and frowned, a dip of full eyebrows that screamed vexation. “Do you think this is funny?”
“Funny?” I couldn’t stop giggling. “No, not funny, more like hilarious.”
“Jesus Christ.” He raked his fingers through his longish hair, leaving a bunch of straight, flaxen strands in disarray. He didn’t know what to make of me, but he sure knew how to scowl.
The shivering, combined with his radioactive glower, stifled my giggle attack. I forced myself to pay attention. Determination whetted the man’s features and set the line of his jaw into a straight angle. A shade of stubble covered the lower half of his face, imbuing him with a golden glow that echoed the gleam in his eye, but there was nothing soft in his stare, not a hint of humor or friendliness.
At least he looked clean and groomed, unlike the rugged, hygiene-challenged bunch I’d met in the back-to-back episodes of Alaska’s Bush Men I’d binge-watched on the plane. Alaska had never been on my long list of places I wanted to visit, and after watching the show, I’d questioned my sister’s sanity along with that of people who lived away from even the most basic human comforts. Now I wondered about this surly stranger too, the first off-the-grid Alaskan I’d met.
“Is your cell working?” I said. “Could you please call the police?”
“There’s no reception on this stretch of road.” The copper-hued eyes probed my face. “If you really need help, I’m all you’ve got.”
Great. Just great. The world whirled around me. I steadied myself against the truck. Three days ago, I’d been in the middle of the most important presentation of my professional life when Louise had called to tell me about my stepsister, Tammy. I’d already been short of sleep and high on stress, but since then, I’d been on the go, trying to get to Alaska.
The earth beneath my knees shifted again. I tightened my grip on the truck and took a deep breath. I wasn’t one to fall apart so easily. To bad weather , a brave face , my father used to say, quoting an old Spanish proverb. I might be out of my comfort zone, but I hadn’t given up on my pride just yet. I straightened my coat and, balancing carefully on one knee, planted one foot first, then the other. I rose slowly from the iffy crouch.
“Oops!” My heels skidded in opposite directions. I fell, bounced on my butt, and ended up sprawled on the ground all over again, rear smarting from the impact. I cursed under my breath.
“Dammit.” The man hooked his hands under my arms, lifted me up, and set me upright. “There. Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, rubbing my ass. My legs buckled, but I steadied myself on the truck and willed my feet to stick to the ground.
“You’re shivering.” He opened the car door. “Get in.”
“No, thank you.” Even if I was freezing, there were rules about cars and strangers. “Can you please call for Roadside Assistance?”
The man actually scoffed. “No reception, remember?” He eyed me impatiently. “Lady, you do know that there’s a storm barreling down on south central Alaska, right?”
“The clerk at the airport did mention that.”
“But did he mention that anytime now, a Bering Sea superstorm is expected to bring blizzard conditions with winds in excess of sixty miles an hour?”
“Yeah, no.” I swallowed a dry gulp. “He didn’t put it quite as bad as that.”
“It’s going to get a hell of a lot colder,” the man said. “Emergency services went on lockdown about fifteen minutes ago.”
Fabulous, just fabulous.
“What I’m trying to tell you,” he explained in a strained tone obviously intended for the dimwits among us, “is that—assuming you’re not a trap—I’m your only option at the moment. So get in the damn truck, before you freeze your ass off.”
Dressed in his black jacket and blue jeans, glinting with all that gold in his eyes and hair, he looked perfectly normal. Minus the scowl, he might have even been good looking. But his bad temper and my flash-frozen brain made for a bad combination. Plus, there was a good chance he was more than paranoid and grouchy. Maybe he was off the grid in more ways than one.
“Look,” he said. “I’ve had a long day and I’m in a shitty mood.”
I rolled my eyes. “No kidding.”
“I wasn’t expecting this. You. Whatever.”
I perched my fist on my hip. “Do you think I was expecting you?”
“Just get in, okay?” He gestured to the cab. “I want to get indoors before the storm hits.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I considered both, the brawny guy and his burly truck. “Where I come from, hitchhiking is dangerous.”
“Too bad,” he said. “In Alaska hitchhiking is a common form of transportation.”
“As far as I know, you could be a serial killer.”
“So could you.” He held the door open for me. “And my risk is higher than yours since, according to the Discovery Channel, female serial killers have been proven to be more dangerous than male serial killers.”
I’d either met my match or found the only other person in the world who watched as much Discovery Channel as I did.
“Get the hell in,” he said impatiently. “We’re running out of time.”
The weather was getting colder. The wind had picked up and the snow fell in bigger, wetter chunks. I was shivering violently, but still, I hesitated.
“Can you please take me to the nearest gas station or hotel?” I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering.
“The nearest gas station is sixty-five miles that way.” He stuck out his thumb and pointed behind him. “The nearest motel is seventy-eight miles in the opposite direction. There’s no time to get there. My cabin is close by and I have the full intention of being there by the time the storm hits in...” he paused to look at his watch, “...anytime now.”
The mention of the word “cabin” did nothing to appease my fears. I’d seen plenty of “cabins” in my reality show marathon. I didn’t want to spend a moment—let alone hours—chewing on squirrel parts in a rustic shelter without heat, electricity, or plumbing, especially in the company of a pissed-off guy whose actions so far put the strange in stranger.
“What is it going to be?” he said. “I’m willing to play the female killer odds if you decide you don’t want to turn into an icicle. It’s your choice, but I’m hauling ass right now.”
What’s the use of choices when one has none?
I said a little prayer, shuffled on the ice and, balancing carefully on my unwieldy heels, climbed into the front seat. He helped me up, shut the door, and walked around the truck. My head began to hurt, pangs of pain stabbing behind my eyes. Not good.
The man climbed in next to me in the cab. “Strap in.”
He switched on the ignition, pressed on the pedal and accelerated down the icy track as if truck skating was an X Games signature event and he was going for the gold. My knuckles tightened around the door handle. I bit down on my lips, but the backseat driver in me was out of control. Whether he was a serial killer or not was irrelevant. We were both going to die today.
He glanced in my direction. “You got a name?”
“Yes.” I pressed my frozen fingertips against the heating vent, reveling in the blessed heat.
“Well?” he said in that demanding tone of his.
I stared at him, mystified by his persistent state of grouchiness. “Well what?”
“Are you going to tell me what your name is or what?”
“Oh.” I was close to frozen stupid. “My name is Summer, Summer Silva.”
“Summer in Alaska?” He stared at me for an instant, then burst out into quiet laughter. “You’re a little late. Summer arrived in Alaska just in time to meet winter.”
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I hadn’t slept in a while, but yeah, no. He wasn’t going to laugh at my expense. I narrowed my eyes on him.
“That’s quite the glare.” He suppressed another round of laughter. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Well, you are rude, a lot rude in fact, accusing me of God knows what and acting like a total jerk.”
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just that... Summer in Alaska.” His lips twitched. “You’ve got to admit. It’s pretty damn good.”
“Are you drunk?” I said. “Because if you are, maybe I should be doing the driving. I imagine they’ve got laws in Alaska, including some about drinking and driving?”
“You’re turning out to be a piece of work,” he said, smirking. “Bossy too, for someone riding in my goddamn truck. Here I am, doing you a favor, not letting you freeze off your pretty little stuck-up ass and yet you’re being a smartass and giving me attitude.”
“Are you for real?” He had a lot of nerve calling me a smartass. “You’re not exactly attitude free yourself.”
“And yes,” he added, ignoring my comment, “we do have some laws here in Alaska, although not nearly as many as they’ve got in the lower forty-eight. As to your question, nope, I’m not drunk, haven’t had a drop all day. Should’ve, but didn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that if there was ever a good day for drinking, today was it.” He stomped on the clutch and shifted gears. “But no, unfortunately, I’m not drunk. That and the shitty day probably explain why you’re getting a double dose of sarcasm.”
“Sorry about your shitty day,” I said. “But you need to mellow out. Do you always go around trying to bully people into doing whatever you want?”
“Pretty much.” He flashed what could’ve been a semi-contrite glance in my direction. “Look, I apologize for my lack of manners.” He offered his hand. “My name is Seth, Seth Erickson.”
I shook his hand, mostly because, sarcasm aside, he was making an effort to be civil. Plus, he was a fellow Discovery Channel watcher. His hold was firm, hot, and supremely comforting to my fingers. My entire body wanted to shrink into his grip if only to bask in his radiant heat. My fingertips tripped against the unusual texture at the bottom of his hand. I spotted a patch of mangled skin scarring his palm, crawling up his wrist and disappearing into his sleeve. He caught me looking and covered most of the scar with a self-conscious tug of his sleeve.
“You’ve got some icy fingers there.” He tapped on the console’s screen and punched up the temperature of my heated seat. “Tuck them under your thigh. Trust me. It’s the quickest way to warm up those puppies.”
He was right. Trapped between the heat of my body and the seat, my fingers began to thaw.
“Where the hell are you from?” he asked. “Miami.”
“Ah.” He smirked. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Your inability to cope with ice. And the outfit.”
I looked down at myself. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“No gloves, hat, boots, or a proper coat,” he said. “When I first saw you I thought you were either crazy or—well—you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“I thought maybe you were a plant, someone looking for attention, or more specifically, my attention.”
I stared at him for a full thirty seconds, unable to figure out what he meant. “What are you talking about?”
“Nobody in their right mind out here wears skirts and high heels on the roads, except the occasional call girl, playing a pre-ordered role or meeting a very specific customer...”
“Oh no you didn’t.” What was wrong with this man? “You thought I was a whore?”
“I couldn’t see beneath the coat...”
“Are you like...freaking insane?”
He cleared his throat. “It was probably the heels that gave me the wrong impression...”
“You’re out of your mind, you know that?” I snapped. “First you think your family is out to get you. Then you think I’m...what? A prostitute? Which implies that you think someone in your family was going to set you up with a...Jesus!” I rubbed my temples, wishing that I’d never come to Alaska and also that I’d ditched those damn shoes. “I really want to go home.”
“Don’t get upset.” His eyes betrayed a hint of concern. “I would’ve bought the look if I’d seen you down in, say, Ketchikan getting down from one of them fancy cruises. For future reference, Alaska 101: dress warm, keep dry, stay warm. That coat might look fine for a fall afternoon on Fifth Avenue, but in Alaska? It’ll kill you faster than a dip in the Bering Sea.”
Great. Advice from Mr. Sunshine himself. His condescending tone annoyed the hell out of me. “Okay, fine, maybe I’m not properly dressed for the weather, but that’s only because I had no time to plan for this trip. I’m not as stupid as you’re making me out to be.”
“No offense,” he said, “but all the tourists are gone. What the hell is someone like you doing all the way out here at the end of September?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“I don’t know why,” he muttered, “but I’m itching to hear it.”
“If you must know,” I said, “my sister ran away with a guy she met on the internet. He’s from Alaska and I came to find her.”
He flashed me a skeptical look. “Is your sister stupid?”
“No,” I said, but at times like these, I wondered. “Tammy is just...impulsive.”
“Has she done stuff like this before?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s not really her fault.”
“What do you mean it’s not her fault?”
“She struggles with bipolar disorder.”
“Hey, lady, Summer—right?” he said. “There’s no excuse for stupidity. I’ve met people with all kinds of injuries and disorders who know better than to run away with a stranger they met on the internet.”
“I know, but Tammy is...”
My cell rang to the tune of chirping birds. Reception. I had reception! I groped through my purse until I found the phone.
“You might get a minute or two if you’re lucky,” Seth cautioned. “After that, nothing for a while.”
My tepid fingers fumbled over the keypad, accidentally hitting the speaker in the process. “Hello?”
“Did you find Tammy?” Louise’s voice blared in her best Brooklyn accent, shrill, loud, and capable of busting an eardrum or two. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Calm down.” I tried to turn off the speaker but my stiff fingers succeeded only at increasing the volume. “I’m on my way to find her now. There might be an itsy-bitsy delay. The weather is not cooperating, but don’t worry, I’ll find her.”
“Are you locked in a fancy hotel room?” Louise demanded. “You won’t find Tammy from behind a bolted door.”
“Of course not.” Louise could be such a witch when she was anxious. “I promised you I’d find Tammy and I will.”
“I sure hope you’re not enjoying room service while your sister is gone and I’m here, suffering, imagining all the terrible things she could be going through...”
“Please, don’t be a drama queen,” I said. “We don’t have any evidence to suggest that Tammy is in immediate danger.”
“Find your sister!” Louise’s voice flickered in and out of range. “Find her! I don’t care what you have to do, just do it...”
The phone lost all its bars again and the call dropped. The narrow reception zone had ended. Part of me was grateful for the reprieve. The other part knew I was cut off again. The headache throbbing behind my eye intensified. The sights blurred before me.
“Hey,” Seth said. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I dropped my cell in my purse and straightened my back, fighting the exhaustion.
“Who was that very loud woman?”
“My stepmother.”
“Is she right in the head?”
“She’s just worried about Tammy.”
“Something’s not adding up here.” He rubbed his wide back against the seat like a great big bison scratching against a tree. “Your sister’s an idiot. Your stepmother demands that you drop everything and go chase her. Your family? Sounds like a major clusterfuck.”
“Look who’s talking.” I sniffed. “My family may be a little different, but we love each other. We don’t hire people to try to set each other up. Sure, we can be loud and a tad dramatic on occasion, but honestly? Your family sounds a million times more screwed up than mine.”
His mouth twisted into the sarcastic smirk he favored. “You might have a point there.”
“Yeah, you bet I do.” I leaned back on the headrest. After a two-day journey, a three-hour drive, and a car wreck, I felt as if someone had taken a bat to me.
“You’re looking very sleepy there,” he said. “Talk to me. Are you all right?”
“I’ll live,” I mumbled, rubbing the knot behind my ear.
“Are you hurt?” He turned on the cabin lights and leaned over to inspect my head as he continued to drive. “Is that a bruise behind your ear? Hell, I didn’t notice before.” The truck swerved in the road. “Did you hit your head when your car went off the road? Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Just concentrate on driving straight, please.” I inched away from his touch and switched the cabin lights off. “I’m a little tired, that’s all. I haven’t slept for a few days.”
“A few days? That’s not good.” He groped behind the seat, opened the top of a small cooler and, after grabbing a bottle, handed it over to me. “Here you go.”
“No, thanks.” I wasn’t about add alcohol to my troubles.
“It’s not for drinking.” He pressed the cold bottle to the side of my head. “It’s to keep the swelling down.”
“Oh.” I took the bottle from him and held it against the lump.
“Hang on tight,” he said. “That’s a real nice handcrafted lager. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”
“Got it,” I said. “Hanging on to the brew over here.”
He smiled, a genuine, eye-lightening grin that eased the angles on his face and radiated charm and warmth. Could a guy who smiled like that really be a jerk or a serial killer?
The world around us turned into a white maelstrom. The wind wrestled with the truck. The road became invisible under a new layer of snow. Seth geared down and kept his eyes on the road as we negotiated some hairy turns and the road’s deteriorating conditions. In all my twenty-nine years of life, I’d never seen weather like this.
“We’re not beating the storm, are we?”
“This is just the beginning.” He tilted his head and surveyed the sky. “It’s going to get bad soon, thirteen hours of very nasty wind, snow, and ice.”
My timing sucked. “And I thought this was bad.”
“This is nothing.” He slowed down to maneuver over a bridge. “I don’t suppose you get blizzards in Miami. But don’t worry, we’re almost there.”
“Goody,” I mumbled.
I knew my chances of getting to a hotel tonight were nil, but I needed to keep it together, at least until we got to the cabin. With a little luck, it might be a two-room cabin, with a door and a lock between me and the rest of the place. A door chain would be nice, but I could always improvise.
I eyed the man riding next to me. Maybe under all that hubris, he’d turn out to be a decent human being. After all, he had stopped to help me. I toyed with the idea of giving him a quick rundown of my condition, but my hackles went up. No way. He was a stranger and a guy and maybe even a little off, with all that paranoia. I knew from experience what would happen if I warned him. No need to add premeditation to humiliation.
All of a sudden, my vision narrowed. My thoughts slowed down to a crawl. My body slacked and my eyelids slammed over my eyes like hurricane shutters. I ran out of time and energy at the same moment. Oh, crap. I knew exactly what was happening to me.
“Hey, Summer.” Seth’s voice came from far away. “We’re almost there.” He shook me softly. “Wake up. Stick with me, girl.”
I had no time to explain. “Make sure you lock the door,” I mumbled, before I conked out.

Anna del Mar writes hot, smart romances that soothe the soul, challenge the mind, and satisfy the heart. Her stories focus on strong heroines struggling to find their place in the world and the brave, sexy, kickass, military heroes who defy the limits of their broken bodies to protect the women they love. Anna enjoys traveling, hiking, skiing, and the sea. Writing is her addiction, her drug of choice, and what she wants to do all the time. The extraordinary men and women she met during her years as a Navy wife inspire the fabulous heroes and heroines at the center of her stories. When she stays put—which doesn’t happen very often—she lives in Florida with her indulgent husband and two very opinionated cats.


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Playlist for The Stranger
By
Anna del Mar

​If you’ve ever followed my posts before, you know that my playlists are not so much about what music I’m listening to or when. They’re about the characters, which songs make me think of them in the story, which songs somehow reflect their emotions as they move through the story.
The playlist that I’ve put together to celebrate the release of The Stranger follows on that tradition. The Stranger is my newest romantic suspense and the second book of my Wounded Warrior Series, following on the heels of the Amazon bestseller, The Asset. But here’s a cool fact. Each novel stands on its own and you can read them in whatever order you choose.
The storyline for The Stranger goes something like this: When her sister runs away with a guy she met on the internet, Summer, a warmth-loving Miami architect chases her reckless sibling to Alaska and finds her life in danger from more than the elements. Only a stranger, Seth, a wounded warrior who is also a powerful Alaskan tycoon with a quarreling family as complicated as Summer’s and no time for a lady in distress can save her from disaster. Together, two strangers from different worlds and opposite spectrums of the thermometer must unravel the intrigues that threaten their lives to chase after a new dream, in majestic Alaska.
These songs take you through the emotional journey of Seth and Summer as they fight their demons, tackle their enemies and transform their lust for each other into true, enduring love.
Enjoy!


He:
Coldplay
Viva La Vida
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvgZkm1xWPE


Queen
Princes of the Universe
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEJ8lpCQbyw


Imagine Dragons
Demons
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWRsgZuwf_8


She:
Avicii
Wake Me Up
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcrbM1l_BoI


Lady Antebellum
Run to You
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rs38lKxmtI4


Rachel Platten
Stand By You
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwB9EMpW8eY


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Here’s a first review of The Stranger. And it’s an awesome one!
http://www.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=22690
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Embedded links:
http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/books_stranger.html
http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/books_asset.html
http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/books_brink.html
http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/home.html

​Will a budding wedding planner and her bad boy neighbor stop banging heads and start hearing wedding bells in the sexy second novel in USA TODAY bestselling author Lauren Layne’s irresistible new series that marries Sex and the City with The Wedding Planner?

When small-town girl Heather Fowler finally gets promoted from assistant to actual wedding planner, she’s determined to make it as one of Manhattan’s elite Wedding Belles. Unfortunately, her first client demands an opulent black-tie affair at the Plaza…in five months’ time. Heather’s days quickly become a flurry of cake tastings, dress-fittings, RSVP cards, and bridal tantrums. But what she’s really losing sleep over is the live music blaring from her playboy neighbor’s apartment all night.

Five years ago, Josh Tanner was an up-and-comer on Wall Street, complete with the penthouse and the migraines. But a grim cancer diagnosis made him realize there is more to life than the corner office. If only he could convince his pretty, workaholic neighbor to let loose, too. As Heather lets down her guard, Josh is surprised when he starts falling for the sweet, vulnerable woman hiding beneath those power suits. Soon, it’s Heather’s turn to convince Josh to take the biggest risk of all: love.


Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/06/for-better-or-worse-wedding-belles-2-by.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27276194-for-better-or-worse
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/165203-the-wedding-belles



Buy Links:    
Amazon | B & N | Google| iTunes | Kobo

“So this is where the noise happens, huh?” she asked.
Josh’s eyes narrowed as his friend’s hand touched Heather’s back briefly. “Absolutely,” Trevor said. “We’re sorry it keeps you up though.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she said, waving her hand. “I mean . . . it’s not. But tonight I couldn’t sleep anyway, so you get a free pass. What do you all play?”
“Donny’s bass, Felix is on drums. Josh is lead guitar, and I, as the most important member, have the pipes.”
“Oh! I thought Josh was the singer,” Heather said with a quick glance over her shoulder at him.
Their eyes locked, and Josh felt a flicker of . . . something.
“Ah, is that what he’s telling the women these days,” Trevor joked.
“No, I just . . . I hear him, singing sometimes,” Heather muttered.
“Our boy can carry a tune well enough, but wait until you hear me, love,” Trevor said.
Josh turned away in mild disgust, pulling a beer out of the fridge as Trevor and the other guys coaxed Heather into the practice room, thrilled to have any sort of audience, even a reluctant one.
“Yo, Tanner,” Felix called.
“What,” he called, popping the lid off the bottle and tilting the beer back to his lips as he tried to shake off whatever was bringing down his mood tonight.
“Let’s show Heather here that we’re more than a bit of noise coming through her bedroom wall.”
Josh turned around to see Donny dragging one of his kitchen chairs across the room, disappearing into the practice room.
“All right, love, you just sit down and get comfortable,” Trevor said. “Tanner! Come on, man.”
Josh heard the low strum of Donny’s guitar, heard Felix do a little warm-up rhythm, and knew there was no way of getting out of it. If he refused to play a song now, he’d look like an ass.
Still, his feet didn’t move, and he took another sip of beer.
Feeling eyes on him, he glanced up to see Heather in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb as she studied him.
“Okay, 4A?” she asked.
Her tone was lighthearted, almost slightly reluctant, as though she didn’t want to care about why he was out here alone, feeling oddly itchy with his life.
He appreciated it. He’d spent enough time in the past few years dealing with people who walked on eggshells around him, cooing sweetness. Some of it genuine, some of it not so much.
Heather’s no-nonsense question was refreshing—and exactly what he needed.
He was happy and healthy and living the dream, damn it.
Even if he was no longer sure it was his dream.
“You going soft on me?” he asked, taking one last sip of his beer before setting it aside and strolling toward her.
Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly. I just wanted you to get your shit together so I can see your cute lead singer work his magic.”
He deliberately stepped into the doorway so she couldn’t move in either direction without brushing against him, grinning at her discomfort.
“You’re in a better mood tonight,” he said, his eyes skimming over her crazy curls and relaxed expression. “Why?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not a shrew.”
“Huh.”
Heather shoved his shoulder with a little scowl. “I’m not!”
“Does that mean you’re going to start making banana bread like Mrs. Calvin?”
“Yes, definitely. And coffee cake and sugar cookies and whatever other goodies you might like. All while wearing a frilly, feminine apron.”
“Dare I hope there’s nothing under the apron?” he asked, leaning in slightly.
“Right again!” she said, in mock delight. “I just love to bake naked.”
Josh’s pulse leapt, but Trevor interrupted before the sudden X-rated picture in his mind could turn into a full-fledged fantasy.
“Dude, we doing this or what?”
Josh looked at Heather.
“One song,” she said, holding up a finger. “I may as well see what the music sounds like on this side of the wall.”

Lauren Layne is the USA Today bestselling author of more than a dozen romantic comedies. She lives in New York City with her husband (who was her high school sweetheart--cute, right?!) and plus-sized Pomeranian. 
In 2011, she ditched her corporate career in Seattle to pursue a full-time writing career in Manhattan, and never looked back.
In her ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books. 
For a list of all her works, please be sure to check out her official website!


Author Links:
​Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram

​For seventeen-year-old Nell, life is about to take a chilling turn. Raised by a workaholic uncle and used to being over looked in a crowd, Nell has found life to be rather dull and uneventful…Until the day of a school field trip out to White Shell Lagoon. Going against her nature, Nell bends a rule – and makes a shocking discovery.
Now she has a secret that no one will believe, one that whispers danger even as it seems to call to her very soul. What really lurks beneath the glassy waves… and how much will finding out cost her?
All she knows is that she’s caught the attention of a strange boy with special abilities and violet eyes, a boy she is certain cannot be human.
Trapped by rules and tradition in a deteriorating kingdom, Sebastian feels he has no other choice except to act. Taking matters, and fate, into his own hands, the daring young man enters the realm of humans to retrieve what was once taken. The land beyond the waves is no friend to his kind, yet to save his home, he will do what few before him have ever dared. He is prepared for almost anything… except meeting a girl who somehow poses a threat to his identity, his hidden world and to everything he has ever known.
As the two fight for their own agendas it becomes clear that they may just have more in common than either realizes…
The Water Novels - Book One

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​Broad shoulders knife through the water with confidence. I’m aware of one thing: that whoever it is seems to be swimming away from me instead of towards.
Further details race to my brain. Male, arms, torso bare. No wetsuit, but his skin has a strange sheen to it. I flounder, trying to comprehend. Something causes him to stop dead in the water. He turns swiftly towards me, and bubbles trail upwards around him as he stares at me. A strange chill sweeps through me. It’s as if I shouldn’t be seeing him.
For a second we’re both suspended beneath the water, staring at each other. Neither of us moving, both wary.
Dark hair floats around his forehead and his gaze is careful. If I wasn’t holding my breath, I’d be drawing in air too quickly. I’m unprepared for the color of his eyes. They’re a startling violet. Distinct. Dangerous. My pulse thumps in my ears. I should be swimming to safety, getting above water as quickly as possible, but my body isn’t responding. I can’t see his legs. Where are his legs? He remains angled horizontally, concealing them. Some of his facial features are almost impish, youthful, but there’s a severity to some of the angles, suggesting he’s more young man than boy. 
Then I notice something else. Salt water appears to be filtering in and out of his airways with no effect. A scream freezes in my throat. Panicked, my arms start to thrash around me. The sudden activity unnerves him and his vibrant purple eyes widen, like a trapped animal. Judging by the smooth motions of his upper body, he’d likely outswim me.
Desperately, I try to gauge how far the surface is, my hair billowing around my face. He’s not human, he’s not human. I know he’s not. I know it in every fiber of my being.

Deborah Gray holds a Bachelor of Teaching and Learning degree and writes for enjoyment. "The Water Kingdom" is her first full length novel for young adults in the fantasy genre.

She is a member of the Christchurch Writers' Guild and currently lives in New Zealand with her husband, family and a mischievous black Labrador.

Links

Social Media
Website: http://www.thewaternovels.com
Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/deborahgraywriting
Twitter: https://twitter.com/debgraywriting
Goodreads book page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28517349-the-water-kingdom
Pinterest: https://nz.pinterest.com/thewaternovels/


Purchase Links
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Water-Kingdom-Novels-Book-ebook/dp/B01AFB1RFK/
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/606559
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-water-kingdom-deborah-gray/1123248401?ean=2940152567021
ibooks: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-water-kingdom/id1073757145?mt=11
kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-water-kingdom-1

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