Friday, March 30, 2018

Wild Hearts


Title: Wild Hearts
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 10, 2018
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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 Available now! 


 
This sexy cowboy is out of his element. He doesn’t want commitment, but Jodie Ellison is a force of nature who can’t be ignored.

Jodie Ellison loves wild parties, chaotic fun, and spontaneity in her hometown of Ocean City, Maryland. With her writing career and waitressing job not quite paying the bills, Jodie desperately needs a new roommate and finds herself in a nightmarish situation when her roomie turns out to be a disastrous choice.

The wild and unruly Levi Creed is a little bit rebel and a whole lot of sexy. When he moves in next door to Jodie, things get a bit tumultuous thanks to a squawking parrot and a dangerous fire pit. It seems like Levi’s adorable Texan drawl and perfect body can’t possibly win over Jodie… or can they?

An undeniable chemistry simmers between the unlikely pair. The beach babe and the sexy cowboy soon find themselves asking: Can they tame their wild hearts and commit to the blossoming romance between them?



Plus, more importantly, I don’t want this flaunty cowboy to think I’m interested or something. I mean, what kind of man walks around Ocean City with an open plaid shirt? What kind of man puts a fire ring in his front yard to cook dinner?
I’ve been down the hot-bod-guy road before, and it didn’t turn out great. He seems nice enough, it’s true. But he’s got that swagger about him, and I’ve seen that before. Something tells me Levi Creed isn’t an innocent Texan boy. Something in his eyes, in his posture, in his everything screams rebel.
True, the last time I fell for a six-pack abs guy was at beach yoga, and the guy wasn’t quite wearing a cowboy hat. But still. I know his type. A hell of a lot of fun… but a hell of a lot of trouble too.
The fire looks nice and inviting, but I’ve been burned before. I have my writing career to focus on. I don’t need to end up in the burning embers again.
“Never mind,” I say, and Levi stays put for a moment before smiling, tipping his hat at me like I’m some southern belle, then heading back into his apartment. He emerges ten minutes later with what looks to be some steaks. He sets up some kind of rack over the fire, and the smell is heavenly. I bury my nose in my computer, though, determined to get some work done.
When he’s done cooking, he ambles back in his apartment, and I figure I won’t see him again.
Fifteen minutes later, though, he comes out with a plate. “I don’t want to distract you, but I had an extra and thought you might be hungry.”
“Smells good. Thanks,” I say, realizing I am actually quite hungry.
“One word of warning. More than one lady has fallen head over heels for me because of my amazing steak cooking skills. Eat at your own risk.”
My mouth opens to spew some witty response, but I’ve got nothing. He winks at me, hands the plate to me, and once I take it, he spins on his boot and walks away, no further questions or comments.
I stare down at the plate, a fork and knife included. There’s a heavenly smelling steak with a salad. Sebastian climbs up on my lap, pawing at the plate, almost choking himself on the harness in the process.
The man might have odd fashion choices, a southern drawl, and a bit of overconfidence, but ten minutes later when the steak’s been devoured, I decide he can definitely cook a damn steak—and maybe Levi Creed as a neighbor has its benefits.

 Available now! 

Lines in the Sand, Book 1
Inked Hearts
ONLY 99c



A high school English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay's the English teacher clichΓ©; she love cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.

She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, and Bob; and their Mastiff, Henry.

Lindsay's goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the “typical romance.” With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, “I see myself in that novel.” She wants to speak to the modern woman’s experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, “That could happen,” or “I feel like the characters are real.” That’s how she knows she's done her job.

Lindsay's hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isn’t out of the realm of possibility.


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PS I Hate You














































































Dear Isaiah,

Eight months ago, you were just a soldier about to be deployed and I was just a waitress, sneaking you free pancakes and hoping you wouldn’t notice that my gaze was lingering a little too long.

But you did notice.

We spent a “week of Saturdays” together before you left, and we said goodbye on day eight, exchanging addresses at the last minute.

I saved every letter you ever sent, your words quickly becoming my religion.

But you went radio silent on me months ago, and then you had the audacity to walk into my diner yesterday and act like you’d never seen me in your life.

To think … I almost loved you and your beautifully complicated soul.

Almost.

Whatever your reason is—I hope it’s a good one.

Maritza the Waitress

PS – I hate you, and this time … I mean it.











































There’s no denying something’s there, something that makes my heart trot when he looks at me, something that makes me slick on an extra coat of lip balm or an extra spritz of perfume before dashing out the door to meet him.
And while I’m the one who made the rules—no romance and only honesty at all times—I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about what would happen if we broke one of them.
Only problem is, I have zero idea if he’s thinking what I’m thinking. He’s so even-keeled and emotionally guarded, but they say actions speak louder than words and the fact that he’s here, spending time with me doing stupid shit has to count for something … right?
“Why are you staring like that?” Isaiah asks when he turns around.
My cheeks warm. I’d been spacing off. “No reason.”
“Bullshit. You can’t lie, remember? Tell me what you were thinking about.” His lips draw into a playful smirk, and I can’t decide if I like his mysterious side or his spirited side best. It’s like trying to choose between white chocolate and milk chocolate, which are both delicious in their own ways.
“You don’t want to know.”
And I’m serious. He doesn’t want to know that I’m thinking about him in a way that I was determined not to. Besides, he’s leaving in a few days. There’s no point in ruining the rest of our time together by making this situation unnecessarily complicated.
“Try me,” he says, his stare boring into me. Something tells me he’s not going to let this go.
Giving myself a moment, I gather my thoughts and nibble on my lower lip. “I was just thinking about connections.”
“Connections?” His hands rest on his hips, his shoulders parallel with mine. I have his full, undivided attention.
“I was just thinking about how I hardly know you, but I feel connected to you,” I say, cringing on the inside but fully embracing the discomfiture of this conversation.
He says nothing, which doesn’t make this moment any less awkward for the both of us.
“You asked!” I remind him, throwing my hands up.
Another moment passes, the two of us lingering next to some hairy elephant-looking creature with a long-as-hell scientific name as a group of children runs past us.
“Now I want to know what you’re thinking about.” I nudge his arm. “It’s only fair.”
He smirks, then it fades, and he gazes into the distance. It’s like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but if I push or prod too much, he’ll never share it.
“Nothing, Maritza. I was thinking about nothing.”
I don’t buy it, but I don’t press any further. I want to burn this awkward moment into a pile of ash and move on.
“Are you going to remember me after this week?” I ask after a bout of silence.
His golden irises glint as his eyes narrow in my direction. “What kind of question is that?”
“A legit one,” I say. “Will you remember me? Or am I always just going to be that waitress girl that you hung out with for a week?”
“Don’t think I could forget you if I tried.” He speaks in such a way that I’m not sure if what he’s saying is a good thing or a bad thing. “Can I be honest right now?”
“You must. It’s a requirement.”
Isaiah’s tongue grazes his full lips for a quick second and he holds my gaze for what feels like forever. “I don’t want to make this any more confusing for either of us, but I feel like kissing you right now.”
I fight a smile. I don’t want to smile. I want to scoff at him and tell him to stop being such a hypocrite.
But that’s only half of me.
The other half of me wants him to kiss me, wants his hands in my hair and his taste on my tongue just one more time because we’ll never have this moment again and once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.






















































Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.




And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j


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JERICHO by Lola White

JERICHO
The Garguiem series, Volume 3
by Lola White

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Our Unscripted Story by L. A. Fiore

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  Greyson Ratcliffe. I met him at sixteen, the hot new guy sitting on my jetty, an aspiring artist just passing through. He was my first kiss and my first love. I wanted forever with him. I didn’t even get a year. Five years later, I’m a budding writer who scripts stories of love and struggle, the good and the bad and the ups and the downs. He’s a star on the rise; his wicked talent and crazy good looks have his face plastered on countless magazines. We move in two different worlds and still our paths cross again. We’re older and wiser and as crazy about each other as we had been as teenagers. My medium is words and my imagination is limitless, but not even I could have written the incredible journey we traveled to reach our happily-ever-after. Life isn’t like fiction, and the greatest love stories don’t follow a script.

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Hosts for Our Unscripted Story Release day Party! MAIN!
Join L. A. Fiore & Hosts as she celebrates her release of Our Unscripted Story on March 29th!
Party will happen in her private group, starts at 7:45 - 10:00 PM EST.
Must join the group to participate: https://www.facebook.com/groups/lafemmefabulousreaders/
Hosts include:
7:45 - L. A. Fiore
8:15 - S. Nelson
8:30 - Joanne Schwehm
8:45 - Ann Marie Madden
9:00 - HJ Bellus
9:15 - LJ Shen
9:30 - Jessica Prince
9:45 - Logan Chance
10:00 - K. K. Allen

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Enter to win $50.00 Physical Amazon Gift Card + A signed paperback HERE!

 

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  LA Fiore loves losing herself in the worlds she creates. She also loves a good movie; her favorite is Star Wars, a love her son shares. They hope to build their own Millennium Falcon one day. She would like to meet the Winchester Boys to thank them for enlightening her on the versatility of salt as not just a food enhancer, but also a form of protection against supernatural threats. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and kids, their two spoiled cats, their awesome dog and their new puppy.

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