Showing posts with label IFB Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IFB Tours. Show all posts
Friday, May 22, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Book Blitz: Love Notes Box Set
About The Book:
Title: Love Notes: Four Musical Romance Novels
Author: Kira Adams, Shane Morgan, Naomi Rabinowitz, Breigh Forstner
Expected Publication: February 2, 2015
★✽★ ★✽★
This is a coming of age romance that involves realistic situations and raw emotions. This is Pieces of Me.
Cast of Characters:
Phoebe Tonkin as Peyton Lane
Matt Lanter as Jace & Jax Austin
Douglas Booth as Colton Lee
Michael Trevino as Noah Leaderman
Deborah Ann Woll as Madison Thereaux
Raven Simone as Brooklyn Jones
Shailene Woodley as Harper Michaels
Crystal Reid as Kayleigh Lane
Excerpt
“Hey,” he greeted me.
My stomach instantly dropped. He was like a virus I couldn’t get rid of.
I didn’t even respond; after everything he had put me through, he didn’t deserve a second of my time. I just looked away and then stood to walk away from him. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“Peyton.” He grabbed my wrist to stop me, and before I understood what was going on, I realized Jax was kissing me. Actually kissing me! My eyes were still open due to shock, but he was eagerly kissing me, I didn’t even have time to register a thought.
I didn’t know what came over me then, but I pulled back instantly, slapping him so hard, my hand was red and shaking.
He rubbed his sore cheek gingerly. “Ouch, what the hell was that for?”
“You think after everything you did to me—you can just show up here and kiss me? Well I’m sorry, but I have news for you, that isn’t the way life works. I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but I want no part of it.” I stood quickly, my mind still reeling from the stolen kiss.
My stomach instantly dropped. He was like a virus I couldn’t get rid of.
I didn’t even respond; after everything he had put me through, he didn’t deserve a second of my time. I just looked away and then stood to walk away from him. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“Peyton.” He grabbed my wrist to stop me, and before I understood what was going on, I realized Jax was kissing me. Actually kissing me! My eyes were still open due to shock, but he was eagerly kissing me, I didn’t even have time to register a thought.
I didn’t know what came over me then, but I pulled back instantly, slapping him so hard, my hand was red and shaking.
He rubbed his sore cheek gingerly. “Ouch, what the hell was that for?”
“You think after everything you did to me—you can just show up here and kiss me? Well I’m sorry, but I have news for you, that isn’t the way life works. I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but I want no part of it.” I stood quickly, my mind still reeling from the stolen kiss.
Ten Things I’ve Learned Since I Started Writing: Kira Adams
1. Beta readers are invaluable. One of the first things I did when I decided I wanted to write more seriously was join the site, Goodreads. There are hundreds of people on there who are interested in beta reading, and they all do it out of the kindness of their heart—asking for no monetary compensation. Each and every one of my books went through multiple rounds of beta readers who helped me address problems with the plot, flow, characterization, and even sometimes, spelling and grammar. I honestly believe if it were not for Goodreads and the beta readers help, I wouldn’t be the author I am today.
2. Where is the rush? I hastily made the decision to publish my first book after being fed up with my life in general—I would not recommend this. I missed minor formatting errors and settled for the story as it was even though I had inner doubts about it. Although thousands of readers were happy with the version that was published, I have already edited it once and will probably revise and update the published copies once more if I decide to delve back into the story. I also missed the opportunity to promote at all. Even though I have found book bloggers (and thank God for them), it is still very hard work. I would recommend taking your time to publish your novel.
This is the format I would follow if you are interested in self-publishing: Write the story, edit the story, have the story beta read, put the story away for a little bit of time to breathe while you begin something new, edit the story again, have it beta read one more time, edit it for the final time, format it for e-books and paperbacks, promote, promote, promote, publish.
3. Join online writing communities such as Wattpad, Figment, Authonomy, Scribophile, etc. Joining a site like Wattpad has been life-changing for me. It is a website that merges readers and aspiring writers with published authors and even agents sometimes. You are able to post your stories chapter by chapter and others have the opportunity to read, comment, and vote on your works as well as follow your profile and add your books to their libraries. There are also forums you can join that give advice on the ins and outs of the industry. A majority of the website is the younger generation, tweens and teens, however Wattpad is filled with aspiring writers and published authors of all backgrounds.
I joined the site in September 2013, and since then I have over 700 followers, over 9000 votes, and upwards of 50,000 reads on some of my stories. Even though I have not and will not ever receive any monetary compensation from having my stories on Wattpad, I will be a lifer. I cannot tell you how much of a community it is and how supportive my followers have been for me as well as advice I’ve been given on improving my novels; I cannot say enough great things about Wattpad. I think I should be their mascot!
4. Your friends and family will come around. Don’t be offended if your friends and family don’t read your stories right away or even bother to buy them when they are released. Things to keep in mind, everyone has their own life and are busy living it—they will support you when they see the hard work. Also, factor in what genre you are writing in because not everyone will be interested in Young Adult or New Adult Romances.
5. If you have the opportunity to have a critiquing partner who will swap a few chapters at a time, TAKE IT. While beta readers can be helpful to no end, a critiquing partner can and will become passionate about your work; they will push you to write new chapters and even though they won’t go easy on you just because you’ve built a rapport, they will support you to no end.
6. Go with the flow. As much as I love outlines and have used them plenty of times in the past, I have always been a firm believer in writing what you feel is right in the moment. My stories with the biggest recognition have not been planned out, I believe that’s what kept the intensity building from start to finish. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there is anything wrong with outlines, I am just saying if your gut is telling you to write something, don’t feel confined to your outline.
7. The ups and downs of Print-on-Demand. When I published my first two novels, I chose the website Createspace to help with the paperback copies I would be needing. I love how self-sufficient their website makes you feel and how quickly they can approve everything for publishing (within 24-48 hours).
Pros: Createspace is very easy to use and navigate.
Cons: The royalties are about 30% your book price, which in the grand scheme of things isn’t much.
8. You do not have to pay a fortune for a cover that could compete in the traditional publishing world, trust me. One of the best decisions I ever made was asking a peer on Wattpad to make my covers professionally for me; little did I know, she actually wanted to be a cover designer! I approached her and we worked out a 6-book deal for a VERY affordable price. She not only works with me to make sure I am satisfied in full, but she has a ridiculously fast turnaround. Sometimes it’s as quick as 24-hours. Her name is Emmy Logan and she is the creator of Cover Me Designs, do yourself a favor and check out some of her creations—you won’t regret it.
9. Find Book Bloggers who review self-published titles. Reach out but be respectful, some of them may agree to review your book even though it doesn’t interest them. Be content and satisfied with each one that that takes the time. They are essentially who is going to help create buzz and build an audience for upcoming titles.
10. KEEP WRITING. Staying relevant and accessible is the name of the game in the self-publishing world. If too much time comes between your releases people forget who you are and what they enjoyed about your story so much in the first place. I recommend releasing a book every few months if possible.
2. Where is the rush? I hastily made the decision to publish my first book after being fed up with my life in general—I would not recommend this. I missed minor formatting errors and settled for the story as it was even though I had inner doubts about it. Although thousands of readers were happy with the version that was published, I have already edited it once and will probably revise and update the published copies once more if I decide to delve back into the story. I also missed the opportunity to promote at all. Even though I have found book bloggers (and thank God for them), it is still very hard work. I would recommend taking your time to publish your novel.
This is the format I would follow if you are interested in self-publishing: Write the story, edit the story, have the story beta read, put the story away for a little bit of time to breathe while you begin something new, edit the story again, have it beta read one more time, edit it for the final time, format it for e-books and paperbacks, promote, promote, promote, publish.
3. Join online writing communities such as Wattpad, Figment, Authonomy, Scribophile, etc. Joining a site like Wattpad has been life-changing for me. It is a website that merges readers and aspiring writers with published authors and even agents sometimes. You are able to post your stories chapter by chapter and others have the opportunity to read, comment, and vote on your works as well as follow your profile and add your books to their libraries. There are also forums you can join that give advice on the ins and outs of the industry. A majority of the website is the younger generation, tweens and teens, however Wattpad is filled with aspiring writers and published authors of all backgrounds.
I joined the site in September 2013, and since then I have over 700 followers, over 9000 votes, and upwards of 50,000 reads on some of my stories. Even though I have not and will not ever receive any monetary compensation from having my stories on Wattpad, I will be a lifer. I cannot tell you how much of a community it is and how supportive my followers have been for me as well as advice I’ve been given on improving my novels; I cannot say enough great things about Wattpad. I think I should be their mascot!
4. Your friends and family will come around. Don’t be offended if your friends and family don’t read your stories right away or even bother to buy them when they are released. Things to keep in mind, everyone has their own life and are busy living it—they will support you when they see the hard work. Also, factor in what genre you are writing in because not everyone will be interested in Young Adult or New Adult Romances.
5. If you have the opportunity to have a critiquing partner who will swap a few chapters at a time, TAKE IT. While beta readers can be helpful to no end, a critiquing partner can and will become passionate about your work; they will push you to write new chapters and even though they won’t go easy on you just because you’ve built a rapport, they will support you to no end.
6. Go with the flow. As much as I love outlines and have used them plenty of times in the past, I have always been a firm believer in writing what you feel is right in the moment. My stories with the biggest recognition have not been planned out, I believe that’s what kept the intensity building from start to finish. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there is anything wrong with outlines, I am just saying if your gut is telling you to write something, don’t feel confined to your outline.
7. The ups and downs of Print-on-Demand. When I published my first two novels, I chose the website Createspace to help with the paperback copies I would be needing. I love how self-sufficient their website makes you feel and how quickly they can approve everything for publishing (within 24-48 hours).
Pros: Createspace is very easy to use and navigate.
Cons: The royalties are about 30% your book price, which in the grand scheme of things isn’t much.
8. You do not have to pay a fortune for a cover that could compete in the traditional publishing world, trust me. One of the best decisions I ever made was asking a peer on Wattpad to make my covers professionally for me; little did I know, she actually wanted to be a cover designer! I approached her and we worked out a 6-book deal for a VERY affordable price. She not only works with me to make sure I am satisfied in full, but she has a ridiculously fast turnaround. Sometimes it’s as quick as 24-hours. Her name is Emmy Logan and she is the creator of Cover Me Designs, do yourself a favor and check out some of her creations—you won’t regret it.
9. Find Book Bloggers who review self-published titles. Reach out but be respectful, some of them may agree to review your book even though it doesn’t interest them. Be content and satisfied with each one that that takes the time. They are essentially who is going to help create buzz and build an audience for upcoming titles.
10. KEEP WRITING. Staying relevant and accessible is the name of the game in the self-publishing world. If too much time comes between your releases people forget who you are and what they enjoyed about your story so much in the first place. I recommend releasing a book every few months if possible.
★✽★ ★✽★
The Right Song by Shane Morgan
That is what Aurora desperately wants to believe. That somehow her music can save her, or even touch the unreachable heart of the guy she has liked for years.
Rora yearns for his attention and wants to experience this so-called love that could possibly end her long suffering and inspire her to chase after her dreams.
In deeply understanding the feelings of others and herself, will Aurora give up on ever finding true happiness, or will an intriguing soul teach her about the greatest song ever written?
★✽★ ★✽★
Revenge of a Band Geek Gone Bad by Naomi Rabinowitz
Her luck changes when she catches the eye of Josh Kowalski, a rebellious trumpet prodigy and class clown. Josh has also been hurt by Kathy and asks Melinda to help take Kathy down. Mel figures that she has nothing to lose ... and Josh is adorable with gorgeous blue eyes and a winning smile. She agrees to team up with him and looks forward to finally getting back at her rival.
At first, the pair's pranks are silly, and as they work together, Mel comes out of her shell. Even better, she finds herself falling for Josh and it appears as if he might feel the same way about her.
However, their schemes become more and more dangerous and Mel is surprised to discover her dark side. Just how far will she go to get what she wants -- and is Josh really worth the risk?
★✽★ ★✽★
Straight from the Heart by Breigh Forstner
This is a story about a girl discovering and experiencing life for the first time.
Bryn Schaefler grew up rich. Her parents expected the best out of her, picked her boyfriend for her, and groomed her to be the next trophy wife fresh out of High School. But when they discover she wants to pursue music instead of following in her mothers footsteps, they wanted to hear nothing about it.
That was when Bryn left for good.
By chance, she auditioned for main stream rock band Everlasting. Never in a million years did she think she would make it.
Cale Pelton knew it was his fault for the band scrambling around to find a new guitarist. Once he saw Bryn audition, he knew he had to have her. Not just in the band, but in his mind, body and soul.
This is the first book in the Straight from the Heart series. Follow Cale and Bryn as she goes on her first tour, and discovers there's so much more to her than she ever realized.
Giveaway:
Monday, August 18, 2014
Release Day: Shameless by Nina Lemay
About The Book:
Title: Shameless
Author: Nina Lemay
Genre: New Adult Romance
~New Adult Contemporary Romance -- recommended for mature readers~
Girls like me don’t get happy endings.
I know what I am. At worst a cliché, at best a cautionary tale. I put an international border between me and my past, only to wind up working in a low-end titty bar. Even my excuse is as lame as it gets: I’m paying for college, getting my art degree from Montreal’s most prestigious school. Although some days it becomes confusing: am I just a student who moonlights as a stripper, or a stripper who masquerades as a student?
But the inevitable happens and my two lives collide. And now there’s one other person who knows both the quiet, antisocial Hannah and the sensual, shameless Alicia. One person who keeps my secret.
He’s beautiful, he’s sophisticated. He comes from the other side of life, the one where I’m not wanted or accepted. But he calls me la petite Américaine, and his hot, hot hands on my skin promise me things I long ago gave up on.
The problem? He teaches my Classic Photography class.
This is a standalone novel, no series, no cliffhanger.
Excerpt:
His hand slides, hesitant, across the edge of his seat as he leans closer. The black ink of the letters on his knuckles is stark against his skin.
“Show me,” I say.
And he kisses me. Our lips don’t meet smooth and choreographed like in movies. The stubble on his cheek grazes the corner of my mouth, leaving behind a burning trail, and then his lips cover mine. Nothing hesitant about them. Assertive, self-assured like I thought his kiss would be, the promise of those strong hands and broad shoulders and arrogant posture made real. But he’s anything but arrogant. He gently nips on my lower lip and his hands caress my neck, my jaw, cup my face. He’s holding me like I’m something fragile and precious.
I’m afraid to close my eyes.
He has that lavender scent, sharp and clean, with a note of wild muskiness lurking underneath when you get close enough—that note that’s just him. I don’t know what to do with my hands so I slip them under his jacket and put them on his waist, right above his belt. I finally start to sketch out what his body looks like under his shirt: sinewy and fit and hard.
His hands finally move on, mirroring mine, down to my bare belly exposed by my cropped top. The little hairs along my spine stand on end. An involuntary shudder courses through me, making my abs tighten and quiver. His hand finds the small of my back and settles there, guiding me forward with smooth confidence, pulling me toward him. The heat of his palm melts through my skin into my bones and up my spine, softening my muscles until my entire body feels like hot wax held together by a membrane of skin. I tuck my hand under his belt, just the fingertips—past the hem of his shirt where the pads of my fingers find hot, smooth skin over taut muscle.
He groans softly into my mouth. I lean in and slide onto his lap, barely aware that I’m clambering over a car seat. It’s just so smooth and natural, the grooves of our bodies clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands on my waist, spreading goosebumps all over my belly, up my back and down my arms; then they move up, up, under my top, stopping when they find my bra. Pausing, hesitant.
I kiss my way along his jaw and his neck, peel away the collar of his shirt to continue down his clavicle. His hand settles over my bra and I can feel its heat through the fabric, a tiny little jolt of sensation that lights up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
My mind floats up, under the closed sunroof of the Audi, and watches me from there, impassive. I’m aware of everything I’m doing, too aware, but I don’t stop. My body continues like an automaton, the lips, the hands, performing the motions. Like I’m a car on cruise control, easing into the familiar mode. I know what happens next.
A part of me, very deep down, hopes I don’t.
Only one way to find out.
I go for his belt buckle, find it, tug on it. It yields with a soft clink.
And just as I’m about to stick my hand down his pants, he pulls away.
“’Annah,” he pants. His hand slips out from under my shirt and dives down to catch my wrist. His fingers wrap around my wrist bone, strong and firm.
Maybe it’s the touch that zaps me back into my body, disrupts my functioning. The false step that throws off the whole routine, the bad note that ruins the aria.
“What?” I whisper. My body’s nerves settle into normal mode one by one.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t right. This is… overstepping.”
I sit back. I’m still balancing with my shins on his legs—kind of like at work when I lean in, my hair brushing over a customer’s face, and ask in a seductive whisper if he wants another dance.
I blink at him in utter dismay. Thrown off. Tossed overboard into unfamiliar territory and I don’t know what to do.
But I want to be doing this, I start to say. We aren’t doing anything wrong. “I’m attracted to you,” he says. His voice still holds a hint of breathlessness. “But then again, you already knew that.”
“But I’m—” I’m attracted to you too. This much should be obvious.
“I know,” he says softly. He lets go of my wrist and instead takes my hand between his hot, hot palms. He brings it to his lips. “But this isn’t right.”
“Show me,” I say.
And he kisses me. Our lips don’t meet smooth and choreographed like in movies. The stubble on his cheek grazes the corner of my mouth, leaving behind a burning trail, and then his lips cover mine. Nothing hesitant about them. Assertive, self-assured like I thought his kiss would be, the promise of those strong hands and broad shoulders and arrogant posture made real. But he’s anything but arrogant. He gently nips on my lower lip and his hands caress my neck, my jaw, cup my face. He’s holding me like I’m something fragile and precious.
I’m afraid to close my eyes.
He has that lavender scent, sharp and clean, with a note of wild muskiness lurking underneath when you get close enough—that note that’s just him. I don’t know what to do with my hands so I slip them under his jacket and put them on his waist, right above his belt. I finally start to sketch out what his body looks like under his shirt: sinewy and fit and hard.
His hands finally move on, mirroring mine, down to my bare belly exposed by my cropped top. The little hairs along my spine stand on end. An involuntary shudder courses through me, making my abs tighten and quiver. His hand finds the small of my back and settles there, guiding me forward with smooth confidence, pulling me toward him. The heat of his palm melts through my skin into my bones and up my spine, softening my muscles until my entire body feels like hot wax held together by a membrane of skin. I tuck my hand under his belt, just the fingertips—past the hem of his shirt where the pads of my fingers find hot, smooth skin over taut muscle.
He groans softly into my mouth. I lean in and slide onto his lap, barely aware that I’m clambering over a car seat. It’s just so smooth and natural, the grooves of our bodies clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands on my waist, spreading goosebumps all over my belly, up my back and down my arms; then they move up, up, under my top, stopping when they find my bra. Pausing, hesitant.
I kiss my way along his jaw and his neck, peel away the collar of his shirt to continue down his clavicle. His hand settles over my bra and I can feel its heat through the fabric, a tiny little jolt of sensation that lights up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
My mind floats up, under the closed sunroof of the Audi, and watches me from there, impassive. I’m aware of everything I’m doing, too aware, but I don’t stop. My body continues like an automaton, the lips, the hands, performing the motions. Like I’m a car on cruise control, easing into the familiar mode. I know what happens next.
A part of me, very deep down, hopes I don’t.
Only one way to find out.
I go for his belt buckle, find it, tug on it. It yields with a soft clink.
And just as I’m about to stick my hand down his pants, he pulls away.
“’Annah,” he pants. His hand slips out from under my shirt and dives down to catch my wrist. His fingers wrap around my wrist bone, strong and firm.
Maybe it’s the touch that zaps me back into my body, disrupts my functioning. The false step that throws off the whole routine, the bad note that ruins the aria.
“What?” I whisper. My body’s nerves settle into normal mode one by one.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t right. This is… overstepping.”
I sit back. I’m still balancing with my shins on his legs—kind of like at work when I lean in, my hair brushing over a customer’s face, and ask in a seductive whisper if he wants another dance.
I blink at him in utter dismay. Thrown off. Tossed overboard into unfamiliar territory and I don’t know what to do.
But I want to be doing this, I start to say. We aren’t doing anything wrong. “I’m attracted to you,” he says. His voice still holds a hint of breathlessness. “But then again, you already knew that.”
“But I’m—” I’m attracted to you too. This much should be obvious.
“I know,” he says softly. He lets go of my wrist and instead takes my hand between his hot, hot palms. He brings it to his lips. “But this isn’t right.”
Guest Post
================
Thank you so much for helping me launch SHAMELESS into the world. Being a writer, especially an indie debut author, is often lonely and occasionally scary. All the support I’ve had with SHAMELESS just blew me away. You guys are amazing!
SHAMELESS is set in Montreal. Why Montreal, you ask? Montreal was the perfect setting for many reasons.
First… well, I’ve never read a New Adult novel set in Montreal. Actually, I haven’t read that many novels set in Montreal at all. It’s always a big city in the US, New York or LA or Chicago, and when the story needs a touch of exoticism, New Orleans. So I said to myself, how is Montreal worse than New Orleans? At least here we actually speak French, you know?
Montreal is a Canadian city, kind of on the small side (give or take 2 million people) and yes, it speaks French. French is the only official language of the province of Quebec, but in the heart of Montreal you can usually get by in English too. Montreal is known for a kind of libertine attitude and what we call joie de vivre—you gotta, when it’s freezing nine months of the year. I took this picture in the middle of April, after I woke up to a surprise snowstorm (surprise!).
Good music (Montreal is home to the giant outdoor Jazz Festival and several others throughout the summer), good food (and I don’t just mean poutine) and good nightlife is what it’s known for. It also has a sort of European feel to it. This is from when I lived on the Plateau, aka the French-speaking hipster neighborhood par excellence:
Coffee shop on the Plateau:
In the downtown core, the area is more English and more touristy. And I didn’t exaggerate: there really are strip clubs all along Ste-Catherine, the main shopping street of downtown Montreal. Here’s one right above a teen clothing store!
Quebec City, where Hannah and Emmanuel go for the long weekend, is one of the oldest settlements in North America and the provincial capital. About three hours by car to the north of Montreal, Ville de Quebec has the look and feel of a majestic European city.
I went to university with many people who moved across the continent to go to school here, and I always admired (and was kind of envious of) the courage it takes. So when I wrote Hannah, a girl who’s desperate to escape her high school years no matter the cost, I thought, what better place to run away to than Montreal?
About The Author:
Nina Lemay is a YA writer by day and author of sinfully twisted New Adult…well, also by day. She loves all things dark and edgy and never tires of tormenting her characters. While Nina is a fan of all things scary, Gothic, and fantastic, she doesn’t shy away from a gritty contemporary romance when the muse strikes. She lives in Montreal, a city that never fails to inspire, with her partner and her dog.Giveaway:
Friday, July 18, 2014
Cover Reveal: Shameless by Nina Lemay
About The Book:
Title: Shameless
Author: Nina Lemay
Genre: New Adult Romance
Expected Publication: August 18, 2014
~New Adult Contemporary Romance -- recommended for mature readers~
Girls like me don’t get happy endings.
I know what I am. At worst a cliché, at best a cautionary tale. I put an international border between me and my past, only to wind up working in a low-end titty bar. Even my excuse is as lame as it gets: I’m paying for college, getting my art degree from Montreal’s most prestigious school. Although some days it becomes confusing: am I just a student who moonlights as a stripper, or a stripper who masquerades as a student?
But the inevitable happens and my two lives collide. And now there’s one other person who knows both the quiet, antisocial Hannah and the sensual, shameless Alicia. One person who keeps my secret.
He’s beautiful, he’s sophisticated. He comes from the other side of life, the one where I’m not wanted or accepted. But he calls me la petite Américaine, and his hot, hot hands on my skin promise me things I long ago gave up on.
The problem? He teaches my Classic Photography class.
This is a standalone novel, no series, no cliffhanger.
Excerpt:
His hand slides, hesitant, across the edge of his seat as he leans closer. The black ink of the letters on his knuckles is stark against his skin.
“Show me,” I say.
And he kisses me. Our lips don’t meet smooth and choreographed like in movies. The stubble on his cheek grazes the corner of my mouth, leaving behind a burning trail, and then his lips cover mine. Nothing hesitant about them. Assertive, self-assured like I thought his kiss would be, the promise of those strong hands and broad shoulders and arrogant posture made real. But he’s anything but arrogant. He gently nips on my lower lip and his hands caress my neck, my jaw, cup my face. He’s holding me like I’m something fragile and precious.
I’m afraid to close my eyes.
He has that lavender scent, sharp and clean, with a note of wild muskiness lurking underneath when you get close enough—that note that’s just him. I don’t know what to do with my hands so I slip them under his jacket and put them on his waist, right above his belt. I finally start to sketch out what his body looks like under his shirt: sinewy and fit and hard.
His hands finally move on, mirroring mine, down to my bare belly exposed by my cropped top. The little hairs along my spine stand on end. An involuntary shudder courses through me, making my abs tighten and quiver. His hand finds the small of my back and settles there, guiding me forward with smooth confidence, pulling me toward him. The heat of his palm melts through my skin into my bones and up my spine, softening my muscles until my entire body feels like hot wax held together by a membrane of skin. I tuck my hand under his belt, just the fingertips—past the hem of his shirt where the pads of my fingers find hot, smooth skin over taut muscle.
He groans softly into my mouth. I lean in and slide onto his lap, barely aware that I’m clambering over a car seat. It’s just so smooth and natural, the grooves of our bodies clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands on my waist, spreading goosebumps all over my belly, up my back and down my arms; then they move up, up, under my top, stopping when they find my bra. Pausing, hesitant.
I kiss my way along his jaw and his neck, peel away the collar of his shirt to continue down his clavicle. His hand settles over my bra and I can feel its heat through the fabric, a tiny little jolt of sensation that lights up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
My mind floats up, under the closed sunroof of the Audi, and watches me from there, impassive. I’m aware of everything I’m doing, too aware, but I don’t stop. My body continues like an automaton, the lips, the hands, performing the motions. Like I’m a car on cruise control, easing into the familiar mode. I know what happens next.
A part of me, very deep down, hopes I don’t.
Only one way to find out.
I go for his belt buckle, find it, tug on it. It yields with a soft clink.
And just as I’m about to stick my hand down his pants, he pulls away.
“’Annah,” he pants. His hand slips out from under my shirt and dives down to catch my wrist. His fingers wrap around my wrist bone, strong and firm.
Maybe it’s the touch that zaps me back into my body, disrupts my functioning. The false step that throws off the whole routine, the bad note that ruins the aria.
“What?” I whisper. My body’s nerves settle into normal mode one by one.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t right. This is… overstepping.”
I sit back. I’m still balancing with my shins on his legs—kind of like at work when I lean in, my hair brushing over a customer’s face, and ask in a seductive whisper if he wants another dance.
I blink at him in utter dismay. Thrown off. Tossed overboard into unfamiliar territory and I don’t know what to do.
But I want to be doing this, I start to say. We aren’t doing anything wrong. “I’m attracted to you,” he says. His voice still holds a hint of breathlessness. “But then again, you already knew that.”
“But I’m—” I’m attracted to you too. This much should be obvious.
“I know,” he says softly. He lets go of my wrist and instead takes my hand between his hot, hot palms. He brings it to his lips. “But this isn’t right.”
“Show me,” I say.
And he kisses me. Our lips don’t meet smooth and choreographed like in movies. The stubble on his cheek grazes the corner of my mouth, leaving behind a burning trail, and then his lips cover mine. Nothing hesitant about them. Assertive, self-assured like I thought his kiss would be, the promise of those strong hands and broad shoulders and arrogant posture made real. But he’s anything but arrogant. He gently nips on my lower lip and his hands caress my neck, my jaw, cup my face. He’s holding me like I’m something fragile and precious.
I’m afraid to close my eyes.
He has that lavender scent, sharp and clean, with a note of wild muskiness lurking underneath when you get close enough—that note that’s just him. I don’t know what to do with my hands so I slip them under his jacket and put them on his waist, right above his belt. I finally start to sketch out what his body looks like under his shirt: sinewy and fit and hard.
His hands finally move on, mirroring mine, down to my bare belly exposed by my cropped top. The little hairs along my spine stand on end. An involuntary shudder courses through me, making my abs tighten and quiver. His hand finds the small of my back and settles there, guiding me forward with smooth confidence, pulling me toward him. The heat of his palm melts through my skin into my bones and up my spine, softening my muscles until my entire body feels like hot wax held together by a membrane of skin. I tuck my hand under his belt, just the fingertips—past the hem of his shirt where the pads of my fingers find hot, smooth skin over taut muscle.
He groans softly into my mouth. I lean in and slide onto his lap, barely aware that I’m clambering over a car seat. It’s just so smooth and natural, the grooves of our bodies clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands on my waist, spreading goosebumps all over my belly, up my back and down my arms; then they move up, up, under my top, stopping when they find my bra. Pausing, hesitant.
I kiss my way along his jaw and his neck, peel away the collar of his shirt to continue down his clavicle. His hand settles over my bra and I can feel its heat through the fabric, a tiny little jolt of sensation that lights up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
My mind floats up, under the closed sunroof of the Audi, and watches me from there, impassive. I’m aware of everything I’m doing, too aware, but I don’t stop. My body continues like an automaton, the lips, the hands, performing the motions. Like I’m a car on cruise control, easing into the familiar mode. I know what happens next.
A part of me, very deep down, hopes I don’t.
Only one way to find out.
I go for his belt buckle, find it, tug on it. It yields with a soft clink.
And just as I’m about to stick my hand down his pants, he pulls away.
“’Annah,” he pants. His hand slips out from under my shirt and dives down to catch my wrist. His fingers wrap around my wrist bone, strong and firm.
Maybe it’s the touch that zaps me back into my body, disrupts my functioning. The false step that throws off the whole routine, the bad note that ruins the aria.
“What?” I whisper. My body’s nerves settle into normal mode one by one.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t right. This is… overstepping.”
I sit back. I’m still balancing with my shins on his legs—kind of like at work when I lean in, my hair brushing over a customer’s face, and ask in a seductive whisper if he wants another dance.
I blink at him in utter dismay. Thrown off. Tossed overboard into unfamiliar territory and I don’t know what to do.
But I want to be doing this, I start to say. We aren’t doing anything wrong. “I’m attracted to you,” he says. His voice still holds a hint of breathlessness. “But then again, you already knew that.”
“But I’m—” I’m attracted to you too. This much should be obvious.
“I know,” he says softly. He lets go of my wrist and instead takes my hand between his hot, hot palms. He brings it to his lips. “But this isn’t right.”
About The Author:
Nina Lemay is a YA writer by day and author of sinfully twisted New Adult…well, also by day. She loves all things dark and edgy and never tires of tormenting her characters. While Nina is a fan of all things scary, Gothic, and fantastic, she doesn’t shy away from a gritty contemporary romance when the muse strikes. She lives in Montreal, a city that never fails to inspire, with her partner and her dog.Giveaway:
Monday, July 14, 2014
Book Blitz: Our Kind of Love by Shane Morgan
About The Book:
Title: Our Kind of Love
Author: Shane Morgan
Release Date: June 21, 2014
Reign is convinced that Nate is the perfect guy for her. That’s until Micah walks into her Mom’s restaurant looking for a job. Now Reign can’t seem to stop her heart from yearning for the guy with the mysterious sea blue eyes and melting smile.Micah is all but perfect. He’s spent eight months in a juvenile detention center back in Colorado for his unintentional involvement in a crime. Now at nineteen and hoping to escape his ghosts, he lands a part-time job working at a seaside restaurant in Newport, Rhode Island where he meets the irresistible Reign.
He can’t help the way he feels whenever he’s around her, but she’s already taken and Micah doesn't want to disrupt her life or get himself in anymore trouble. But then his attraction for Reign proves too strong to deny, and Micah finds that he just might discover a reason to stop running.
Excerpt:
Sitting down on a park bench, I stare up at the colors of the fading sky. The bursting orange and yellows mix together like one big orgasm. I appreciate the natural beauty for a while, until something, okay, someone, more captivating graces my view.
A young woman, lost in thought, walks barefoot across the sea wall made of rustic red pebble stones separating sand from sea. With the poise of a gymnast, her body shivers with each step against the ocean breeze. Her cute blue dress with floral prints flares modestly just below her knees. She pays no attention to anything else around her, unaware of how my eyes are trained on her every move.
As the setting sun slants across her tanned legs, she pauses for a beat. Flipping straight light brown hair off her shoulders, strands falling elegantly down her back. I love long hair on girls; the smell—that’s if it’s clean, I’ve had instances where it wasn’t—the feel, and the texture. Caught up, I lean forward, my gaze fixed on nothing but her. Turn. How I wish she’d turn around so I could see her face. Even my heart begins to thud with anticipation.
Finally, as if hearing me, she twists, her attention riveted on something out on the street to her left. Oh c’mon, turn toward me. The sun will be gone in minutes. She swivels, fully around this time. I’m breathless as I catch a glimpse. She’s beautiful, but I don’t mean that in a shallow way. Something about her intrigues me.
So what am I doing? Why am I just sitting here watching her?
Snapping back to my senses, I spring from the bench and start to walk over to her, hoping she won’t run away when I tell her how angelic she is before my eyes. Jeez. That’s corny as Hell, but I don’t care. I have to talk to this girl.
I’m almost there when the loud beep-beep of a car draws her attention. She twirls and I stop in my tracks. A wide smile spreads across her pink lips, and like an idiot, I convince myself she’s actually smiling at me. Realization bites me on the ass when she hurries past me like I’m invisible, heading for the red jeep parked on the side of the street waiting for her.
She didn’t see me. Like seriously?
I stand in place and watch as she climbs inside the jeep, shuts the door, and the driver takes off. Now I feel like crap, because I wasted time and missed the chance to talk to her. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
With hunched shoulders, I walk up the sand onto the grass and sit back on the bench, dumping grains out of my flip-flops.
A lone gull scampers across the sand. A bright moon rises in the sky. I run my fingers through my already messy hair and start to laugh at myself. Dude, why did you get so riled up? That girl’s simply another pretty face. How many have I seen these last few months? Why should I care? We meet, hook-up, and I move on.
The last thing I’m looking for is a girlfriend. I’m a no commitments type of guy. None of them ever took the guilt away, anyway.
But it’s crazy how I feel now. From just one look, my gut says that girl is worth getting to know. Maybe someone I wouldn’t mind sticking around for.
A young woman, lost in thought, walks barefoot across the sea wall made of rustic red pebble stones separating sand from sea. With the poise of a gymnast, her body shivers with each step against the ocean breeze. Her cute blue dress with floral prints flares modestly just below her knees. She pays no attention to anything else around her, unaware of how my eyes are trained on her every move.
As the setting sun slants across her tanned legs, she pauses for a beat. Flipping straight light brown hair off her shoulders, strands falling elegantly down her back. I love long hair on girls; the smell—that’s if it’s clean, I’ve had instances where it wasn’t—the feel, and the texture. Caught up, I lean forward, my gaze fixed on nothing but her. Turn. How I wish she’d turn around so I could see her face. Even my heart begins to thud with anticipation.
Finally, as if hearing me, she twists, her attention riveted on something out on the street to her left. Oh c’mon, turn toward me. The sun will be gone in minutes. She swivels, fully around this time. I’m breathless as I catch a glimpse. She’s beautiful, but I don’t mean that in a shallow way. Something about her intrigues me.
So what am I doing? Why am I just sitting here watching her?
Snapping back to my senses, I spring from the bench and start to walk over to her, hoping she won’t run away when I tell her how angelic she is before my eyes. Jeez. That’s corny as Hell, but I don’t care. I have to talk to this girl.
I’m almost there when the loud beep-beep of a car draws her attention. She twirls and I stop in my tracks. A wide smile spreads across her pink lips, and like an idiot, I convince myself she’s actually smiling at me. Realization bites me on the ass when she hurries past me like I’m invisible, heading for the red jeep parked on the side of the street waiting for her.
She didn’t see me. Like seriously?
I stand in place and watch as she climbs inside the jeep, shuts the door, and the driver takes off. Now I feel like crap, because I wasted time and missed the chance to talk to her. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
With hunched shoulders, I walk up the sand onto the grass and sit back on the bench, dumping grains out of my flip-flops.
A lone gull scampers across the sand. A bright moon rises in the sky. I run my fingers through my already messy hair and start to laugh at myself. Dude, why did you get so riled up? That girl’s simply another pretty face. How many have I seen these last few months? Why should I care? We meet, hook-up, and I move on.
The last thing I’m looking for is a girlfriend. I’m a no commitments type of guy. None of them ever took the guilt away, anyway.
But it’s crazy how I feel now. From just one look, my gut says that girl is worth getting to know. Maybe someone I wouldn’t mind sticking around for.
About The Author:
Shane Morgan is a twenty-something bestselling author of Young Adult and New Adult Fiction. Currently living in the beautiful town of Narragansett, Rhode Island, Shane spends her days blogging, reading, and escaping in her stories.
Giveaway:
Friday, April 18, 2014
Blog Tour: Twenty-Something #1: Going Nowhere by K.M. Galvin
About The Book:
Title: Going Nowhere
Series: Twenty-Something #1
Author: K.M. Galvin
Published: January 7, 2014
Purchase: Amazon
Marisol Finnegan has done everything right to ensure that when she graduated college she'd have the kickass life she always wanted. That's what we're told right? A + B = C? Yeah, well sometimes C is being a twenty-four year old virgin moving home with your parents.
So not ideal.
Before entering this tragically pathetic phase of her life, Marisol stops at a bar for a drink. It's here where her life really changes when she meets her catalyst...Jason Scott.
After everything you've ever done has backfired and you no longer trust yourself how are you able to navigate a relationship? How do you even begin to love yourself let alone someone else?
My Review:
My rating: 4 of 5 starsGoing Nowhere by K.M. Galvin is the first book in her Twenty-Something series. A happily ever after romance with a few drama filled moments throughout.
The characters are funny and endearing and the storyline has it's own unique little twists making it a refreshing and uplifting read.
Maris is a bit of a mess, Jason is the modern day white knight, and Mari gains a whole new circle of friends and support all because of a chance encounter with Jason.
Well worth the read!
About The Author:
K.M. "Kelsie" Galvin grew up in the South with Yankee parents, which made for a very confusing accent. She loves music, books, blogging (Hola from Page Trotters!), Game of Thrones and coffee. Going Nowhere is her first book.Giveaway:
Monday, March 24, 2014
Blog Tour: Butterfly by Elle Harper
About the Book:
Title: Butterfly
Author: Elle harper
Published: January 15, 2014
Purchase: Amazon
Grace Elliot is falling apart. Overwhelming tragedy has turned her world into a dark and lonely place. Facing the pain and the ghosts is impossible. Hiding her secret behind a mask of confidence and living a lie is the only thing she knows how to do. She’s alive…but not living.
Counsellor Ben Hardy is certain he can help Grace heal. Maybe it’s a way to rid himself of the demons haunting him from that one horrific night when his life shattered.
When they meet, everything changes, and their pasts offer them a remedy to save each other…until Ben's traumatic history threatens to destroy the trust they’ve built.
Will the truth tear them apart? Or will it force them to understand the healing power of forgiveness and love.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Butterfly by Elle Harper is a beautifully written, touching story or recovery and love after brutal tragedy steals away your confidence and ability to truly LIVE.
We begin the story some time after Grace has been raped...
Grace is trying to live her life but is crippled by fear after she was raped. She tries, but her life is hollow and she is always scared.
Ben is a counselor who is unable to get a job due to his sketchy past. He sees Grace while training women at a self defense class and just HAS to help her.
This book could have been bad in so many ways... dealing with such a delicate and sensitive topic as rape, but the author does such a beautiful job of writing about the reality and trauma of rape. The sex scenes are not over done but do (happily) exist, and the romance and chemistry is spot on.
My Review:
My rating: 4 of 5 starsButterfly by Elle Harper is a beautifully written, touching story or recovery and love after brutal tragedy steals away your confidence and ability to truly LIVE.
We begin the story some time after Grace has been raped...
Grace is trying to live her life but is crippled by fear after she was raped. She tries, but her life is hollow and she is always scared.
Ben is a counselor who is unable to get a job due to his sketchy past. He sees Grace while training women at a self defense class and just HAS to help her.
This book could have been bad in so many ways... dealing with such a delicate and sensitive topic as rape, but the author does such a beautiful job of writing about the reality and trauma of rape. The sex scenes are not over done but do (happily) exist, and the romance and chemistry is spot on.
About the Author:
Elle Harper is the pen name of Bestselling author Sibel Hodge. She is the Amazon Top 100 Bestselling Author of Fourteen Days Later and Be Careful What You Wish For. She has 8 cats and 1 husband. In her spare time, she's Wonder Woman! When she's not out saving the world from dastardly demons she writes an eclectic mix of romantic comedies, mysteries, thrillers, children's books, and non fiction.Giveaway:
Friday, March 14, 2014
Blog Tour: Tears of Sin #1: Drowning by Rachel Firasek
About The Book:
Title: Drowning
Series: Tears of Sin #1
Author: Rachel Firasek
Published: October 19, 2013
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Publisher: Naedge Publishing
Purchase: Amazon
"I dare you." Those words would change adrenaline junkie, Alice Harrison's life forever. She's a party girl that doesn't believe in love until she meets a man that only writes about it. Seth James escaped his overbearing father and moved into one of the James family's vacant condos, hoping to create the music he loves in peace. But the fragile calm he's envisioned shatters when a tiny woman with a world full of energy bounces out of the elevator and nearly takes him out. With the patience of a saint, Seth seeks the dark that keeps Alice from enjoying life. He challenges her to exorcise the demons in her past in order to discover the true meaning of love. But when the walls fall down, the hidden deceptions will bare the ugly truth about a woman drowning in sorrow and a man who may not know how to be her hero.Excerpt:
SOME DAYS, THE WIND BLOWING through my hair calms me, soothing the angst tracing each scar across my body. Then there are days like today when the breeze tears at me like a pack of piranhas, and all I can think of is swimming away before they pull me under.
“Alice, it’s your turn.” Someone calls to me over the blare of the radio and the blast of Blackcats being thrown over the cliffs, but I’m enjoying the tongue thrusting in my mouth too much to care.
Bo, the hot guy we picked up on the way, has been entertaining my lips and hands for the last hour. He’d been hitching to the lake, and even though my friends moaned and groaned when I forced them to stop for him—I wouldn’t let someone else intent on experiencing the peace of the water spend miles of waiting and walking to get here.
His mouth fits across mine, stroking my lips with a steady lashing. It’s nice to forget everything but the worry of what he’ll do next. He teases the edge of my T-shirt up, but I shove his fingers away, and he doesn’t push it. His need twitches along my hip as I sit across his lap. One calloused hand slides up the inside of my thigh. I clench my legs to stop him, aggressively attacking his lips with mine to keep him interested but distracted. I’d kiss him all day, and that was as far as I’d take it. I’m a horrible person. A control freak at heart. This is just one of the many games I’m good at. I jump up and hop away from the desire in his green eyes, smacking him with one last wet kiss before dancing to the cliff’s edge.
Molly slides up beside me and digs her pointy elbow into my ribs. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She leans over and shivers. My sister, by father only, has never understood my need for the rush. Her mother kept her from anything that led to a deep passionate response, and mine had nurtured going with my gut. Two souls who shared blood had never been more different. The only thing that made us compatible was a love transcending reason. Sisters are forever. “It’s a really long way down.”
“That’s the best part. Don’t worry, Mole, the adrenaline takes away the pain of impact. I promise.” I step away from the edge. To make it out far enough to miss the jagged rocks against the cliff’s base, I need a solid leap. “Wish me luck.”
The hitcher silently presses up behind me, fits his body to mine, and whispers into my ear, “Good luck.” He licks my lobe, and my stomach does a little flip—not in a pleasurable way. I suck in a deep breath, disentangle my limbs from his greedy hands, and run. Six pounding steps and I’m here. Right on the brink of pain. Right on the edge of escape. Right where I want to be.
The ground turns from grass to rough stone. I kick off and there’s nothing. Only air. Lovely, free air. It beats against my skin, killing the piranhas and the memories. For one brief second in time, I’m not drowning anymore.
My Review:
My rating: 4 of 5 starsDrowning by Rachel Firasek is the first book in her Tears of Sin series. Do NOT let the cover mislead you, this is a dark tale of adversity mixed in with a romance. Please heed the warning that it contains scenes of a disturbing and graphic nature.
Alice has a dark and twisty past that has left her damaged. She is an adrenaline junkie that does anything (almost) for her next "fix".
Seth is a musician with his own troubled past. He wants to focud on his music and songwriting. No distractions. This plan is a success until Alice LITERALLY runs into him on their apartment complex elevator one day.
Well-paced, troubling, heart-wrenchng and darkly-beautiful. Prepare yourself with some wine or chocolate or both to get through the tougher scenes. While part of a series, this book does end well with the opportunity for more to come.
About The Author:
Rachel Firasek spends her days daydreaming of stories and her nights putting the ideas to ink. She has spent a dull life following the rules, meeting deadlines, and toeing the line, but in her made up worlds, she can let the wild side loose. Her wonderful husband and three children support her love of the written word and only ask for the occasional American Idol or Swamp People quality hour.
She has a philosophy about love. It must devastate or it isn’t truly worth loving. She hopes that you all find your devastating love and cling to it with all your heart!
Giveaway:
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