Monday, October 16, 2017

Release Blitz - Poet by A.M. Johnson




Title: Poet
Series: Avenues Ink
Author: A.M. Johnson
Genre: Contemporary & Interracial Romance
 Release Date: October 15, 2017



Blurb

Melissa Trujillo knows suffering. She's tasted it, touched it, injected it. Sobriety is a gift, but it isn't enough to wash away her secrets.

Kieran O’Connell knows sacrifice. He's owned it, held it between his fingers, and felt it in his knees. Words are his freedom, and they've begun to fade.

Two different worlds, one moment and the Earth shifts—granting them a path.
His eyes meet hers. Her hand fits his.

Kieran finds his muse.
Melissa finds her new addiction.

When sin meets virtue, angels fall, and the truth, it becomes a blade. Together they’ll walk the sharp edge, but if her lies cut too deep, not even his words could save her… save them.







Purchase Links

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






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99c for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



99c for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Author Bio

Amanda lives in Utah with her family where she moonlights as a nurse on the weekends.

If she’s not busy with her three munchkins, you’ll find her buried in a book or behind the keyboard where she explores the human experience through the written word.

She's obsessed with all things Austen and Oreos, and loves to connect with readers!

Stay up to date by signing up for her newsletter here: http://bit.ly/AMJNewsletter


Author Links

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Release Blitz & Giveaway - Come Back to Me by Kathryn Shay

Title: Come Back to Me 
Series: To Serve and Protect
Author: Kathryn Shay
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 10, 2017

A family of heroes, all in dangerous jobs, all irrevocably tied to those they love. Read about the Marino clan in this fast-paced, emotional new series, To Serve and Protect, by NYT bestselling author Kathryn Shay. 

Declan Marino was a lucky to get everything he wanted in life: marriage to his high school sweetheart, Delilah Carrier, and work as an army medic. But his world crashes in when his wife leaves him because she did not get what she wanted. Now, he’s raising his children alone, as he works in the ER and is periodically called up from missions in the Army Medical Reserve. Lila has snagged a promotion in the Pentagon. Life is hard and messy for all of them, especially their three girls. Follow Declan and Lila as they find their way back to each other and create a brand new life from the ashes of the old one. 
COME BACK TO ME examines the difficulty of balancing two military parents and maintaining happy family life. The book also asks the question: can long-standing love triumph over the roadblocks of modern life?

“Once again Shay shines in this starkly realistic story.” - Booklist 

“Emotionally charged.” - Romance Readers at Heart 

“Shay’s writing trademark is taking seemingly impossible relationships and developing them into classic tales of true love.” - Fresh Fiction 
“Always a dramatic and engaging storyteller, Shay never disappoints!”  - RT Reviews
With a combination of excitement and dread, Declan looked around the empty house in Maryland that he’d rented for himself and the girls for a year. 

“It’s big, Daddy.” This from Meli, his impish twin daughter. “Do we have our own rooms?”

“Of course.”

“Want to go see ours, Morgy?” she asked her sister Morgan. They both had blond hair and blue eyes, like him; Meli’s pixie-short, Morgan’s almost to her waist. Maggie, his oldest, was the spitting image of her mother.

Dec held out two hands, which his kids clasped. “I’ll show you.”

They climbed the open oak staircase with skylights shining down on the foyer and made their way around the railings. Declan led them down one hall. At the end were two doors. “Let’s go in here first.” 

Once in the room, the girls scanned the wide windows, another skylight above the ceiling fan, and then their gazes landed on a doorway. Morgan rushed over and yanked it open. “It’s a bathroom.”

“With another door on that side.”

The girls burst through both entrances. Screeches. Proclamations like “Oh, this is so cool,” and “Just what we need!” Their rooms were connected by a Jack-and-Jill bath like the Marinos’ third-floor quarters, built for Whitney and Connor.

Declan leaned back against the wall, grateful that he could please these two munchkins after he’d uprooted them. Thankfully, they’d been old enough to go into middle school in Lakeville and would have had to change buildings anyway. 

“I’m taking this one,” Meli said coming back in. “Morgan wants the other.” 

Her sister hugged him. “We love them, Dad.” 

“Uncle Nick scouted this area for us, which is close to our family, and when he saw this part with an adjoining bathroom, he thought the place would be great for you two.” 

The house also had a master suite up here, making it four bedrooms, and a den and bath on the first floor. Which could be converted to a fifth area for his parents.

Meli crossed to a window. “Oh, look, a big backyard.” She turned to her father. “For our dogs, right, Dad?”

He’d also bribed them when he told them they were leaving Lakeville: if they cooperated in the move, they could each get a dog. He wanted animals anyway. “Yep, and the yard is fenced in.”

Morgan said, “Does the house have a room for Maggie?”

“You bet. This is her home, too.”

His oldest was at orientation for college right now, only forty minutes away at American University where she’d live on campus, but she also had her own space here. He hoped she’d use it.

“We wanna see yours too, Dad.”

“I’ll take you to the other hallway for mine, but Maggie should show you hers.” They’d been staying with Gabe and Macy, and he’d dropped Mags off at orientation before they came here around noon.

When the girls had their fill of touring, they settled in the kitchen. Declan had ordered a pizza so it was piping hot, the scent of spicy sauce and cheese filling the expansive kitchen/dining area. They sat at the long bar separating the two on the stools left by the previous owners and dug in. They were almost finished when chimes sounded. 

“That’s our furniture!” Meli declared, sliding off her seat and racing to the foyer. Morgan followed and Declan took up the rear.

Meli threw open the door. “Oh. I thought you were our delivery.”

Lila, their mother, smiled at the girls. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” Dec recognized uncertainty in her voice.

“Yeah, Mommy, we are.” Morgan wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, then Meli took her turn. 

His ex-wife raised her gaze to Declan. “Hi.”

The mere sight of her churned him up inside. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I got excited about the girls being so close, so I came out on my lunch break.”

All Declan said was, “There’s pizza left.”

“Oh, well, can I have a tour of the place first?”

Meli grabbed her arm. “Wait till you see our rooms. There’s lots of windows, a bathroom that connects us, and skylights.”

Lila’s mouth thinned. “How nice.” She looked at Dec. “I always wanted skylights.”

They’d lived in apartments in D.C., then bought a home in Lakeville, which was old, like most of the houses in town. “You should put a couple in your new place.” Declan almost cringed at the bitterness in his voice.

“It’s a colonial. Skylights don’t belong in that era’s dwellings.”

Ignoring her comment, he said, “Take Mommy on a tour, you guys.”

When they left, he returned to the kitchen and sat back down. He took a bite of a half-eaten slice of pizza, but now it tasted like cardboard. So he scanned the room. High ceilings with more skylights, now open to warm mid-August air, granite countertops, big enough for a table by the fireplace at the far end. Lila would probably love this room. But he hadn’t rented the place with her in mind. No, she had a new guy, a new house, a new life now.

Ten minutes later, the girls raced into the kitchen to the backyard through French doors. Their mother went outside with them, then came back in alone.

“This is lovely, Dec.”

He turned. Speaking of lovely, she looked pretty in a yellow summer sundress and strappy sandals. Her hair was up in a knot befitting the hot day.

“Thanks. We have an option to buy it, but I’m not sure we can.”

“Why?”

“The house in Lakeville would have to sell first.” Though trauma surgeons—he’d been one for years—were paid top dollar, areas around D.C. and Maryland were expensive.

Taking a seat another stool down, she ignored the food. “So you came down here.” There was a cutting undertone in her voice, but he knew why. And she was entitled.

“My parents said moving was a deal breaker.” Like it had been in the end for him and Lila, though he didn’t know that at the time.

Her mouth got tight. “Did they buy something?”

“No. They’re staying with Nick now. They’ve had offers to stay in four different places. We don’t know if they’ll want their own.”

“Four?”

“Sure, here. There’s a first floor den for them. Nick and Gabe each have a suite set up and you should see the house Connor and Calla bought. It’s got a guest house behind the main one.”

“Befitting a princess.”

“And the heir to the throne.”

“Seriously? She’s pregnant?”

“Before the wedding.” He lasered her with a look. “Like us.”

“Are they happy about having a baby so soon?”

“Yes.”

“Unlike us.” 

“I know we were wary at first, and especially when I was away those six months, but when Mags came we were happy, Lila.”

“I know. I guess what followed, what brought us to where we are today, is still in the forefront for me.” She shook her head, releasing a few more tendrils. “I thought we were invincible back then.”

“I did, too. What happened to those kids?”

“They grew up. And modern life was too much for them to withstand, I guess.”

“How sad.”

“Are Connor and Calla settling here permanently?”

“They’re splitting their time between Maryland and Casarina. They’re both working part-time at the D.C. clinic, but exploring options here for one of their own.”

The children burst back through the door at the end of the kitchen. “Daddy, they left their jungle gym. It’s got a fort, and a slide and swings.”

He frowned. “I was thinking about tearing those things down. That you’re too old for them.”

Their faces fell. Until Lila laughed. “Daddy’s kidding.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, good.”

Chimes again. 

Declan stood. “That has to be our furniture.”

Meli tugged on her hand. “Yay! Mommy, can you stay and help us set up our rooms?”

She looked to Dec. He said, “Sure, I’ve got my hands full with the rest of the stuff. Will you be able to get out of work?”

“I make my own hours. I have to call in, though.” She looked down. “And I keep workout clothes in the car.”

“Then it’s settled.”

The delivery was the new furniture. And right behind the store guys was the moving van from Lakeville. Declan signed papers and Lila headed to her car. Halfway down the sidewalk, she looked over her shoulder and said, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He didn’t know what to say. Or if he could even speak around the sock stuck in his throat. Had he made different decisions, if circumstances had gone their way, they could be buying this house together, settling in together, building on a life they made through the years.

But that was a fairytale, and he wasn’t a doctor marrying a princess, like Connor. He and Lila were two soldiers who just couldn’t merge their lives together.

Again, he thought, How sad.
A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has written dozens of self-published original romance titles, including print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises, and mainstream women’s fiction with Bold Strokes Books. She has won five RT Book Reviews awards, four Golden Quills, four Holt Medallions, the Bookseller’s Best Award, Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year, and several “Starred Reviews.” Her novels have been serialized in Cosmopolitan Magazine and featured in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, and People magazine. There are over five million copies of her books in print, along with hundreds of thousands downloaded online. Reviewers have called her work “emotional and heart-wrenching.”

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Thursday, October 5, 2017

Blog Tour w/Review & Giveaway for From The Ruins by Janine Infante Bosco

From the Ruins

by Janine infante Bosco A Satan’s Knights MC Novel 
Publication Date: September 26, 2017 
COVER CREDITS Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design 
Model: Michael Joseph 
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, R+M Photography 
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, MC, Bikers, Romantic Suspense

BUY:

SYNOPSIS:

“Pipe” In every man’s life there comes a day of reckoning. It’s the day darkness is exposed and sinners are punished for their trespasses. A day when loyalty is destroyed and a man is left in ruins. When he walks away from his club and loses his religion. Whoever said from the ruins they will rise again never walked a mile in my shoes or the pair of red ones I was left holding.

“Layla” He’s bitter, cold and angry. He’s seen his share of heartache. Lived through tragedy and despair. He’s my neighbor. The man I know should stay away from. The man who will destroy what’s left of me if I get too close. He’s Lee Jameson, and I’m Layla Milano. This is our story. The story of two people left in ruins forced to rise again.


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From The RuinsFrom The Ruins by Janine Infante Bosco
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Pipe and Layla's story was amazing. Once again Janine gives you a book that will suck you in from page one and give you all the feels. My heart broke time and time again not just for Pipe but Layla as well. Janine knows just how to break your heart, put it back together, just to break it once again.

From the Ruins can be read as a standalone. But I highly recommend reading the Nomad series first 3 books. No, you will not be lost if you don't read them but I think it rounds all of it out a lot better having known some of the issues leading up to Pipe's story. You don't get much MC in this book but that's quite alright with me. Janine still delivers a beautifully written book that I could not put down and had me wiping my eyes many different times as tears welled up.

This is an emotional read and I wouldn't have it any other way. But will Pipe lay down his patch forever? Can Layla who is pure and untouched by his world be what he needs to move on or will he continue his destructive path? Find out today when you get From the Ruins.

View all my reviews

#SMOKINPIPE

From the Ruins © Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

Excerpt: Layla

Running after Lee, I forget my kitchen resembles a small pond or that I’m soaking wet myself. Hell, I don’t even have a chance to process his actual name before he’s folding his large frame into my car. Shuffling down the steps, I hurry toward him making sure I don’t wind up taking another flop in the mud.
Finally reaching the car, I splay both hands over the hood and lean forward.
“Get out of the car,” I demand.
About to switch gears, he turns his attention toward me and narrows his eyes. The thought of him possibly judging me sets me off into a frenzy.
“You’ve done enough damage,” I tell him, smacking the palm of my hand against the hood. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if you could just keep your dick in your pants, but no, you had to go and pick possibly the two dumbest people on the planet to sleep with and now I’m the one paying with a broken car.”
“I didn’t actually sleep with them,” he mutters.
My anger doesn’t seem to quell and the more he sits behind the wheel staring at me, the more my hands tremble. Lifting them from the hood of the car, I applaud him sarcastically.
“Congratulations, you’ve spared yourself the risk of getting gangrene. Me, on the other hand, has to still suffer the consequences of your poor choices,” I spit.
“Jesus Christ, woman, I’m trying to make it right,” he shouts angrily, slamming his fist against the steering wheel. Seeing the frustration radiate from his features, I drop my arms to my side and narrow my eyes in disbelief.
Since the moment I met this man he has been nothing but nasty to me. Even when I apologized to him he acted like a dick. Now he wants to be helpful and I’m supposed to believe he grew a conscience over night?
“Why?” I blurt. “Why all of a sudden do you care?’
Clearly annoyed, he rubs his hands vigorously across his face before putting the car in park and stepping out of it. With one arm braced on the door, he pins me with those incredible eyes of his and I temporarily forget what we’re doing.
“Would you rather I didn’t? That change could be arranged,” he hisses. “Your car is fucked, Layla, and fuck me if I know why, but I feel responsible. Now, the man upstairs didn’t give me a whole lot of blessings but he gave me hands, and I’m damn fucking good with them.”
Unsure how to respond to his confession, I remain silent. I quickly learn giving him the floor is a mistake because what he says next breaks the little resolve I have.
“For crying out loud, haven’t you ever had a man help you before?”
His words slam into me with force and the weight of every burden I’ve been carrying drags me down. Willing myself not to let my emotions get the best of me, I swallow down the lump lodged in my throat and shake my head.
“Not without wanting something in return,” I confess. It’s a truth I didn’t realize until I was already on my own. I can’t say for certain that my ex-husband was the exception. He dangled that fucking house of his in my face for years. It didn’t matter that I was the one who made it a home, in his eyes I should’ve been grateful he put a roof over my head. I never felt as though it was ours. It was his and I was the woman who lived there.
Suddenly, it’s not about the car but about everything that has ever gone wrong in my life. Every single hole I’ve had to dig myself out of.
“Let me fix your car,” Lee says, dragging me away from my head.
Staring at him blankly, I shake my head as I give into the tears.
“I have insurance…shit,” I cry, wiping at my eyes. “I mean, I think I have insurance,” I amend, unsure if I paid the bill. I suppose it’s a good sign I don’t remember getting a cancelation notice in the mail.
“Oh God,” I moan, lifting my hands to my face. “I’m sorry,” I sob. The tears fall freely and I can’t keep up. Realizing it’s a wasted effort, I drop my hands and unload all my grief. “I’m overwhelmed,” I admit. “You’re right, this is the last thing I need right now. I have three kids who basically hate me since I left their father, a son whose favorite pastime is getting into trouble and a shit job that doesn’t pay the bills. Let’s not forget a house that’s falling apart at the seams. I’ve never felt more out of control than I do now, and every time I think I’m getting ahead, something else happens that sets me back. And now I’m standing in front of a man who is basically a stranger and I’m crying. I’m fucking crying and I don’t cry.”
“Shit,” he hisses, stepping awkwardly toward me. Lifting a hand, he seems to debate on what to do with it until he pats my shoulder uncomfortably. “There, now,” he mutters. “Pull yourself together, killer.”
If I wasn’t falling apart I think this would be funny. I mean we make quite the pair. He’s fighting a hangover and I’m having a nervous breakdown. While I’m dressed in pajamas, he’s wearing the same clothes as the night before and we’re both drenched from the waterfall inside my house. I have diarrhea of the mouth and he has no idea what to do with me as we play tug of war with my car. Not to mention my kids are on the front porch watching the whole exchange. Yeah, we look like a bunch of clowns.
A laugh flies past my lips and I cover my mouth with my hands to stop the fit of giggles that insanely erupts.
“Oh good, we’ve moved onto laughing,” he says, dropping his hand from my shoulder. Taking a step back, he shoves his hands into his pockets and stares at me like I have three heads.
“Oh my God,” I say, chuckling. “You should see your face right now,” I comment, grabbing my stomach. His eyes narrow at me.
“You playing me, girl?”
“No,” I hiccup, shaking my head. “I swear.”
Having had enough of me, he blows out an exasperated sigh.
“So, do we have a deal?”
“Wait,” I say, sobering up. “There was a deal?”
“Yeah, the deal is I fix the fucking car.”
“And what do I do?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, stop. Let me do this. It’ll make me feel better and like your son, my favorite pastime these days seems to be getting myself in a shit ton of trouble. If I’m busy fixing your car then I’ll be too busy to make the next bad decision and it’ll keep the whores off the front lawn, both yours and mine.”
“I don’t have any whores.”
“Feeling better?” he questions, lifting an eyebrow.
My situation was hopeless, and no, I wasn’t feeling better about any of it but for some reason I wasn’t feeling weighted down by my life.
“I’m not sure,” I admit as I cock my head to the side and study the faint lines in the corner of his eyes. After a beat, I shake my head and break away from the hypnotic spell they seem to have me under. “I’ll pay you back. I’ll call the insurance company and put a claim in.”
“Whatever makes you sleep better, killer,” he replies. “Or you can make me a pot of coffee and we’ll be even. Either way, get out of my way and let me get started.”
“There he is,” I start. “I was starting to mourn the asshole I’ve come to expect.”
“Have no fear, I’m an asshole first and foremost,” he says.
We both grow silent for a moment and I swear I see his lips quirk ever so slightly.
“Thank you,” I murmur softly.
“Get on, girl,” he says with a nod.
Hesitantly, I step around him and glance up at my house. Three sets of eyes stare back at me and I’m reminded of the busted pipe and the list of things I was supposed to do today. Things I’m not sure how they’ll get done now that I don’t have a car.
“Jesus Christ, what is it now?” I hear Lee say behind me.
Turning around, I watch as he lights a cigarette. Taking the first long pull, he leans against the side of the car and waits for me to deliver my next blow.
“I don’t have a car.”
“Is this a delayed reaction type thing?”
“It’s just, well, I mean we’re not in the city. I can’t hop on a bus. I’ve got a busted pipe I need to fix and I was supposed to go into town today. And then there is school. How am I supposed to get my kids to school every day?”
“Lay it on me, killer, what do you need to do,” he says, pushing off the car. He ashes his cigarette before taking another long pull and leveling me with those eyes of his. “Aside from the pipe thing because I doubt you can fix that thing on your own.”
“How would you know? I happen to be very handy,” I defend.
“I bet you are,” he says with a smirk.
I’m not blind and as brief as it is, I watch his eyes scan the length of me.
“How handy are we talking?” he adds.
“I have a pink tool belt,” I blurt, feeling the slightest blush creep across my cheeks. In that instant, I remind myself that he’s the same man from last night, the guy who spent the night with two women. The man who yelled at my son. The man I threatened with a pair of brass knuckles.
The thing is, right now, he doesn’t seem so angry. In this moment, he’s not the rancid devil menacing his way through life. He’s just another guy, someone who may just have a heart buried somewhere deep inside.
“I can take you into town,” he says with a grunt.
“That’s nice of you to offer but after last night, I’m not letting my son out of my sight and I didn’t see a side car attached to your bike.”
“I’ve got a truck, killer,” he retorts, jutting his chin toward his garage. “You and your posse can fit in the back. I reckon there ain’t any school on a Sunday, aye?”
“Aye?” I repeat.
“You need to go into town, I’ll take you and your tribe into town. We’ll figure out the rest—”
“But—”
“Jesus Christ, please just shut up,” he interrupts as he clutches the sides of his head. “Go get your kids ready or whatever it is you need to do and let’s get a move on,” he growls. “But first, go change out of that wet t-shirt,” he adds, turning toward his house.
Embarrassment floods me and I glance down at the sheer shirt molded to my breasts. Crossing my arms in a feeble attempt to hide my nipples from him, I look back at him.
“Where are you going?” I call out as he reaches his steps.
“To down a bottle of Advil,” he says over his shoulder. “You got five minutes to get your ass out here.”
Five minutes?
Does he have any idea how long it takes to get everyone ready? It takes us five minutes to find our shoes.
“Thanks,” I shout.
He replies by slamming his front door shut.
And there he is.
The asshole.

#GETRUINED

FROM THE RUINS PLAYLIST

#RISEUP

Dear Reader,

Here we are again, off the heels of one epic ride and ready to embark on the next one.
Pipe’s story first came to me as I was writing Eternal Temptations and it’s taken some time to figure out who the woman that heals him should be. As it turns out, I didn’t have to look very far. All I had to do was look in the mirror.
Seems easy enough but when you’re telling a story that focuses on your own truth, you need to dig deep and find the courage to say what you’ve kept under wraps.
This story isn’t just about Pipe.
It’s about me.
It’s about Janine Infante Bosco telling you her truth.
It’s about finding a way to tell my story and move on when I’m still not certain I’m ready to.
Truth, I have been separated from my husband for two years.
Truth, divorce or in my case, separation---is ugly.
Truth, the children hurt just as much as the parents if not more.
Truth, it changes the way you interpret love.
Truth, it changes you.
It brings you down but you rise up and become better than you were before.
Stronger than you thought possible.
You learn to appreciate the little things and accept change.
My story isn’t over because one chapter has ended and you’ll find neither is Layla’s.
As always, I promise to give you a beautiful love story full of healing and unexpected surprises.
I will restore your faith in brotherhood and teach you family isn’t always about blood.
We’ll all be Property of Parrish in the end but first I’m going to torture you all a little.
Saddle up, the boys in leather are back!
The motherfucks will fly, people will die, you will cry and curse the day you ever heard of me.
The men are crass. They’re vulgar and they’re not scholars.
The Satan’s Knights are street guys who use slang and the grammar won’t be on point.
Some of your old favorites are back but if you’ve never read any of my books you will totally be fine. However, if the word fuck offends you—well, then this book isn’t for you.
If you’re cool with it then, let’s fucking do this!
Become part of this unconventional family.
Be
Property
Of
Parrish.
See you on the other side,
Janine

ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO

Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

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