segunda-feira, 26 de junho de 2017

♡ Release Blitz + #Giveaway ♡ Writing Mr. Right by T.K. Leigh @tk_leigh @GiveMeBooksBlog #Live #OneClick #99c




Writing Mr. Right
by
T.K. Leigh

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Release Date: June 26, 2017





✾ Synopsis ✾


My name is Molly Brinks, but most people know me as Vivienne Foxx, bestselling author of chance meetings, stolen glances, and the much-needed happily ever after. My addictions include coffee, home improvement television, and the occasional pint of ice cream. The love of my life is an eighty-pound labrador retriever named Pee Wee. At the age of twenty-nine-plus-one, I am at the top of my game... professionally. My personal life is a completely different story, one best left untold. Success has its sacrifices and I've been more than happy to put my search for Prince Charming on the back burner while I create fictitious tales of the naïve virgin, the broken girl with a torrid past, and the strong-willed student finding their own Mr. Right... Until one hell of a case of writer's block and a tight deadline set by my publisher forces me outside my cozy downtown Boston apartment in search of inspiration.

Armed with an account on every dating website out there, I devise a plan. Meet some nice, professional men. Go on a few dates. Hope one of them has the spark I need to finish my book. Then walk away.

But plans are meant to be broken.

My name is Molly Brinks, and this is my story about Writing Mr. Right.






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✿ The Author ✿


T.K. Leigh, otherwise known as Tracy Leigh Kellam, is a USA Today Best Selling author of the Beautiful Mess series, in addition to several other works. Originally from New England, she now resides in sunny Southern California with her husband, dog, three cats, all of which she has rescued (including the husband). In late 2015, she gave birth to her first (and only) baby. When she’s not planted in front of her computer, writing away, she can be found training for her next marathon (of which she has run over fifteen fulls and far too many halfs to recall) or keeping her daughter entertained.

T.K. Leigh is represented by Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management. All publishing inquiries, including audio, foreign, and film rights, should be directed to her.



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domingo, 25 de junho de 2017

♡ Promo ♡ A Road Paved in Copper by Angela Christina Archer @AuthorACArcher #Live #OneClick



♡ Promo ♡



A Road Paved in Copper
by
Angela Christina Archer





✾ Synopsis ✾


Armed with her six-shooter, Ava De La Vega dips the pen into the inkwell and etches her name on the Esmeralda County tax record book. A formidable force, that's what her peers have called her. The woman in a man's world, what did she know of mining ore, silver, and copper? Plenty. And it's this knowledge that makes her of the richest miners in Nevada in 1903. Of course, it also makes her a target.

Traveling back and forth from Tonopah, Nevada and San Francisco, Ava blazes the trail from the dirt and grime of her mines to the fanciest hotel rooms, enjoying the finest wines, the most decadent meals, and the company of attractive young men.

Unfortunately, for Ava, she doesn't see Craig Harrison coming.

A miner from the snowy Klondike, Craig has traveled from the harsh Canadian mountains down to city streets of San Francisco. Not looking for work, he's happy with the comfortable life away from the deep mines, the dirt, and the ever sought-after gold.

Unfortunately, for Craig, he doesn't see Ava coming.






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✿ Excerpt ✿


Face after face fluttered past my vision until I finally found the oval one I'd been searching for, a familiar one amongst a sea of strangers.

Sitting in the corner just as John had mentioned, Walter McCoy flipped through the pages of the latest issue of the San Francisco Chronicle. The newspaper glowed with the sunlight, making the parchment appear almost translucent and the black letters jumble together. Dressed in his usual cream-color suit, his sandy blond hair was flecked with silver gray strands that showed his age and matched the salt and pepper color in his handlebar mustache.

My grip tightened on the handbag in my arms so tight my knuckles whitened. Although I desired to cause a scene, doing so would only reflect poorly upon me, not him. Instead, I needed to remain calm and reserved — the picture of sophistication, and yet, still holding the disposition of someone not to underestimate. Reflections of polite behavior I'd learned long ago that would bring me what I wanted faster than raving like a lunatic who would be denigrated to nothing more than a pathetic woman.

"Good afternoon, Mr. McCoy," I said as I approached him. My stride deliberately calculated with each step.

"Why Miss De La Vega, this is quite the surprise seeing you at the Cliff House, of all places." Although Water smiled as he peered around yellow parchment, a darkness that clouded through the blue hue of his irises and seemed to deepen his sonorous voice.

Always the man of statute, he spoke and moved slowly, as though he believed this display of eloquence propelled him to a higher social standing above everyone else. In my youth, I thought it did too, but the older I became and the more knowledgeable about the man Walter was, I just found it annoying.

"Are you really so surprised, Mr. McCoy? I mean, we both frequent the place when we are in town, so it's almost inevitable for us to see one another, isn't it?"

"I suppose that is so... or perhaps, it's as simple as some of your little messengers around the city informed you of my whereabouts."

He folded his newspaper, laying it on the table before he fetched his glass of sinfully red wine and took a sip, letting out a satisfied breath.

Anger seethed through my veins.

"At least my spies didn't follow you around at night while you are going to dinner, or wait around in your hotel lobby for you to leave your room."

His lips twitched with my accusations, claims he ignored as he asked. "What brings you to San Francisco, business or pleasure?"

"Actually, business. Rather important business."

His interest piqued, sparkling in the arch of his brow as though he didn't expect my answer. "Oh really? I believe that is a first for you, is it not? Aren't you usually in town to... enjoy the pleasures of the city and the men living in it?"

"And why would I not enjoy myself if I am here to see to my bank accounts or take pleasure in some rest and relaxation? Honestly, Walter, you act as though you are jealous of me."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but jealousy isn't in my nature. It shows weakness, and I am not weak."

I shrugged my shoulders, hinting to the fact that I also shrugged off his words.

"May I sit for a moment?" I grabbed the back of the chair and slid onto the cushion before he answered my question.

"Well, since you left me no choice, I suppose then it would be my pleasure to enjoy the company of a woman, even if it has to be one such as yourself."

I laughed. "Oh, Walter, I always have found it amusing that you believe your words can wound me when they don't."

His shoulders tensed as his lips curved into a scowl. He grabbed the bottle of wine sitting on the table and filled the empty glass sitting in front of me.

"So what is this important business?" he asked.

"A little of this, a little of that." I clutched the glass in my fingers and took a sip, toying with his curiosity in order to torture him, even if it was just for a few seconds. Always privy to the gossip, not knowing information bugged him the most in life.

"And is this business with anyone in particular?"

As I cocked my head to the side, my eyes narrowed. "As a matter of fact, it's you."

"Me?" He ever so slightly jerked his head. A faint smirk lit his expression and he gulped the rest of the wine in his glass. "Are you finally ready to sell me your land and all your claims, then?"

I placed both of my elbows on the table and clasped my hands together. Tension brewed between us, darkening over the table with an invisible thick haze that I wanted to bathe in. I loved making him squirm inside, believing — even if it was just a moment — that he might finally have what he’d always desired most in life: my land.

"For the rock bottom price you keep offering me? Not a chance in hell."

"My offers have always been fair market value. It's not my fault that you have unrealistic expectations when it comes to the net worth of what you own."

"Fair market value is double what you offered me. Don't think for one second that I haven't researched my deeds."

"I've always said the mines are no place for a woman." Walter poured himself another drink, tapping the top of the bottle against the rim to fend off spilling a single drop. "Rough and rugged, mining requires a strength that the fairer sex just doesn't possess. You really should consider one of my offers."

"Ah, yes, the notions that a dainty female shouldn't own, excavate, or protect a claim." I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "And yet, here I am, one of the richest land owners in the Tonopah basin—even more than yourself."

"I suppose you are one of the lucky ones, then."

"Yes, because it's luck that keeps me in business."

He rolled his eyes as though my words were nothing more than a preposterous notion. "If you are not here to sell me your land, then what can I do for you today, Ava?"

"You can stop ordering Billy Jack and your men to attack my homestead."

Accused of a crime, tautness built through Walter's chest. Words swam in wrinkles of his face, deepening with every slight twitch of his lips or the furrowing of his brow as though he was thinking of different excuses to lie at my feet. Which would he use? Which untruth would speak from his evil lips? Would he create an elaborate story or simply deny it? Given he had done both in the last few years; the chance ran right down the middle.

"I'm afraid that I have no idea what you are talking about," he said.

I lifted my glass and sipped the wine again, clicking my tongue as I set it back down. I knew the back and forth game about to occur between us, a battle of wits, a battle of landowners.

I fought to protect my land.

He fought to steal it.

"Is that the stance you are going to take, then?" I asked. "That you know nothing of the recent attack on my homestead?"

"Well, when one isn't involved then usually they know nothing of the events that transpired."

"Isn't involved?"

"That is what I said, isn't it?" He paused for a moment as if to exaggerate his defense. "Billy Jack and his men haven't worked for me in over two years. I have no more control over that man than you do. What he does is his own business. I know nothing of his actions, nor do I order him to do my bidding anymore."

"I highly doubt that."

"You know, one shouldn't hold onto resentment and anger when it comes to the past."

"I don't hold concern over what happened all those years ago anymore, and I haven't for a long time."

The smirk on his lips told me that a rebuttal sat on his tongue, and yet, he didn't utter a word. Ah yes, another method of denial — silence — as if to say how dare I come at him with this. Did I not know who he was? Did I not know what he was capable of?

I did know, though.

It was he, who didn't know what I was capable of doing.

"Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ava?" he finally asked. Indifference breathed through the tone of every word.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm rather busy and, quite frankly, I do not wish to waste any more of my time speaking with you if you are only going to accuse me of actions I know nothing about."

"I know you calculated the attack on my homestead."

He slightly shook his head. "As I told you before, I didn't."

"I know you did."

"But you can't prove it."

I rose to my feet and yanked dozens of red satchels from my handbag, dangling them in my fingers for a few minutes before I tossed them on the table. A few of them fell open and coins rolled from the material, dropping to the floor with a few clangs.

Walter scrutinized the bags, but didn't move an inch. A detail he hadn't seen coming. A detail that pinned him to the crime. Evidence he couldn't refute and that condemned him as though he was there that day.

"I'm sorry to inform you that you lost all of your men in the attack," I continued. "I know you ordered the attack on my homestead."

I stepped forward until I stood next to him. I leaned down, my face inches from his, and my hot breath whispered against his skin.

"And if you plan another one, I promise that I'll gun you down myself."





✿ The Author ✿


Growing up in Nevada, reading was always a pastime that took second place to trail riding and showing horses. When she did find the time in her youth to curl up with a book, she found enjoyment in the Saddle Club Series, the Sweet Valley High series, and the classics of Anne of Green Gables, The Box Car Children, and Little House on the Prairie. Although, writing always piqued her curiosity, it wasn't until September 2009 that she worked up the courage to put her passion to paper and started her debut novel.

When she’s not writing, Angela spends her days from dawn to dusk as a stay at home, homeschooling mom. She also works in her garden and takes care of her many farm animals, as well as loves to bake and cook from scratch. She doesn't show horses anymore, but she still loves to trail ride her paint horse, Honky, as well as enjoys teaching her daughters how to ride their horses, Sunny and Cowboy.



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♡ Hottie of The Day ♡ Beto Malfacini


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sábado, 24 de junho de 2017

♡ Blog Tour + #Giveaway ♡ By the Book by Maria Vickers @mvauthor @HotTreePromos #Live #OneClick




By the Book
by
Maria Vickers

Release Date: June 14th 2017

Genre: Gay Romance

Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs

Editor: Shana Vanterpool







Joshua Dayton met the man of his dreams as a sophomore in high school — his mentor and biology teacher, Mr. Cayden. Fearing his love would be considered forbidden and rejected, he ran away to college, determined to move on and forget. Three years later, he is summoned home and comes face to face with the man he tried to leave in the past. The same man he never stopped loving.

Samuel Cayden was looking for a fresh start and an escape. What he was not expecting was to develop feelings for his student, Joshua. Yet when the boy returns home a man, Samuel can no longer pretend the pull between them doesn't exist.

Will the student become the teacher, showing Samuel how to open his heart? Will Samuel be able to prove to Joshua that things are not always what they appear? Or will the spark fizzle before it has a chance to ignite?

It's time they got a lesson in love and temptation.










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Samuel

I stood there like a statue, my lungs burning from not releasing the air I had trapped in them. When he didn't continue, I prodded, "Yes?"

His shoulders shrugged, but his chin practically rested on his chest so that I couldn't see his face. Without answering, he spun around and pulled out the bacon and eggs from the refrigerator, setting them gently on the counter. With his back turned, I heard his soft reply, "I didn't want to lose."

What did that mean? I wasn't trying to come between him and his mother. I would never do that. Granted, their relationship left something to be desired — not that I was an expert by any means — but she was still his parent, and the only one he had left. "You aren't going to lose your mom. I wasn't trying—"

Whirling around quickly, his glare could melt the polar ice caps. "What do you mean?"

Instinctively, I took a step backwards.

"Is there something going on with my mother?" He spat the last word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"No," I spoke quickly. She would be one of the last people on earth I would think about in any sense other than as his mother.

"Then what do you mean?" he demanded.

Fire and ice. One minute there was an unspoken awkward gap between us, and the next the chasm opened and the switch was flipped. He went from hesitant to furious before I batted an eye, and I was having hard time keeping up. His chest heaved with the deep breaths he was taking and his face, which had a slight flush to it, turned red. His jaw was clenched and his hands were fisted.

"What exactly are your intentions toward my mother?" he sneered.

His anger began to feed my own. How dare he accuse me of anything when he hadn't a single goddamn clue? Marching up to him, I pushed him against the counter behind him, accidentally knocking off the carton of eggs and they fell to the floor. "You don't know anything," I growled right before I pressed my lips to his in a brutal kiss. His hands fisted in my shirt, and I couldn't tell if he was trying to push me away or pull me closer. I prayed for the latter.

Both of my hands were gripping his hips tightly. I moved one to his face, using my fingers to put pressure on his chin, opening his mouth for a heavier onslaught. My tongue plunged in, snaking around his, tasting him.

His wrestled with mine for control. It was an aphrodisiac.

And then a bird squawked, a car alarm blared... our bubble was broken.

I let him go quickly, stumbling backwards with wide eyes and a racing heart. His eyes were also wide with shock, and his mouth looked red and raw from my beard. He had been thoroughly kissed and I craved more of him. Instead of going to him though, I apologized, "Sorry," and then hightailed it out of the house. I couldn't believe I'd done that.

Jumping into my car, I ran away like Josh had done multiple times. For me though, I was pretty sure if I hadn't left, he would have kicked me out.

***

Joshua

What the fuck just happened? Had I dreamed that? Sam kissed me. I couldn't believe it. Sam really kissed me.

Slowly, I brought my hand to my face and felt the skin around my mouth that had been scraped by his beard, and I could feel the smile curling my lips upward. He'd kissed me, and as soon as I felt his lips press against mine, the sky opened up and I heard the angels singing. Well, maybe not that dramatic, but something like that. The ground beneath me shifted and my life, my whole world, came into complete focus.

Kissing him, his arms gripping me, had filled a void within me. The same void that had opened up the day I laid eyes on Sam. I'd tried to fill that space with others, and when I couldn't, a couple of fuck buddies helped to distract me and scratch an itch. But two minutes with him, did what no one else could do. I felt whole.

At least until the moment he left me standing in the kitchen alone and reeling from the best kiss I'd ever experienced.

A new determination burned within me. Samuel Cayden would be mine. I'd find a way to win him and prove that no one else could ever compare.







Maria Vickers currently lives in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing, and after she became disabled, she decided to use writing as her escape.

She has learned a lot about life and herself after becoming sick. One of the things she has learned and lives by is, life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.

***

I've always loved books. Not only creating stories but reading them as well. Books transport me, and when I was younger, I would run into walls because I refused to put my books down even for a second. Take not, walking while reading is not advised. LOL.

With my books, I dream of sharing my stories with the world. I want others to be transported or to feel the emotions my characters feel. That is my goal. If I can do that for one person, I succeeded.

Getting sick changed me and my life, but it also opened doors that I thought were closed. Today, even though I may not be able to do as much as I once could, I still have my mind, and I can write.



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♡ Hottie of The Day ♡ R.J. Rogenski


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sexta-feira, 23 de junho de 2017

♡ Review & Excerpt Tour + #Giveaway♡ Salvaged (Saints of Denver #4) by Jay Crownover @JayCrownover @InkSlingePR #Live #OneClick




New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jay Crownover continues her delightfully sexy Saints of Denver series with the next thrilling standalone, Salvaged! Don't miss this amazing new novel and grab your copy today!

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Salvaged
Saints of Denver #4
by
Jay Crownover

Release Date: June 20th 2017





✾ Synopsis ✾


Hudson Wheeler is a nice guy. Everyone knows it, including his fiancée who left him with a canceled wedding and a baby on the way. He's tired of finishing last and is ready to start living in the moment with nights soaked in whiskey, fast cars, and even faster girls. He's set to start living on the edge, but when he meets Poppy Cruz, her sad eyes in the most gorgeous face he's ever seen hook him in right away. Wheeler can see Poppy's pain and all he wants to do is take care of her and make her smile, whatever it takes.

Poppy can't remember a time when she didn't see strangers as the enemy. After a lifetime of being hurt from the men who swore to protect her, Poppy's determined to keep herself safe by keeping everyone else at arm's length. Wheeler's sexy grin and rough hands from hours restoring classic cars shouldn't captivate her, but every time she's with him, she can't help being pulled closer to him. Though she's terrified to trust again, Poppy soon realizes it might hurt even more to shut Wheeler out — and the intense feelings pulsing through her are making it near impossible to resist him.

The only thing Poppy is sure of is that her heart is in need of some serious repair, and the more time she spends with Wheeler, the more she's convinced he's the only man with the tools to fix it.






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✿ Excerpt ✿


"Poppy." I whispered her name and she tilted her head back and blinked up at me.

"Wheeler." I was astounded that there was a hint of amusement in her voice. How she could find anything to laugh about after what she just told me was unfathomable. Her father had handed her off to a monster like it was nothing. She made her way out of hell with one of the purest hearts I had ever seen.

"I really want to give you a hug, probably more for me than for you, but I told you not to let anyone touch you without permission." I knew I sounded a little desperate but I didn't care. "So, can you put me out of my misery and give me permission to hold you, just for a second, please?"

Her eyes widened and then her obscenely long lashes dropped as she nodded timidly. "Okay, since you asked so nicely." The humor was now thick around every word and she was laughing for real as I carefully wrapped my arms around her.

I sighed into the top of her head as I pulled her to my chest. Her hair smelled like flowers and felt like silk as I rested my cheek against the soft strands. WE stood like that for a long time, me with my arms curled around her as she stood stock-still. I could feel her heart beat and I wanted to think it was racing like it was because she was affected by my touch rather than because she was terrified of being so close to a man she didn't know all that well.

I told myself not to breathe, not to move a single muscle, as her hands slowly lifted and gently touched my sides above the tops of my jeans. It felt like her palms were burning their imprint into my skin as they slowly, achingly started to inch their way around my back so that she was lightly holding me back. I heard her make a sound that may have been one of pleasure, but just in case it was one of fear, I leaned away from her so I could see her face.

Her gaze was centered on the tattooed candle that was burning bright and surrounded by light and smoke right on the center of my throat. She watched the movement as I swallowed hard and her gaze drifted up to mine.

"No one ever has ever asked me for permission for anything before. No one has ever cared what I wanted before." The murmur of her words brushed across the base of my throat and my cock went instantly hard. I knew she felt it because her eyes popped wide and her breath hitched as she looked up at me and ordered quietly, "Ask me what I want right now, Wheeler."






✿ Teasers ✿
















✿ The Series ✿


Leveled
Saints of Denver #0.5





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Built
Saints of Denver #1





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Charged
Saints of Denver #2





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Riveted
Saints of Denver #3





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✿ The Author ✿


Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she'll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.



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