EXCERPT REVEAL                       COME BACK TO ME by KATHY COOPMANS

 

Title: Come Back To Me

Author: Kathy Coopmans

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: 23rd August, 2017

 

 

 

Blurb:

From USA Today Bestselling Author Kathy Coopmans comes a soul crushing story of second chance love. 

Come Back To Me.

What does one do when everyone you love dies?
How much is a woman supposed to take before she crumbles?
How much?
Adriana Jensen is the woman to ask.
She’s lost too many people to count.
The one death that destroyed her the most
was her husbands.

Only… he didn’t die.

What does one do when forced to walk away from his wife?
How much will it take to win her back?
How much?
Blake Jensen, Adriana’s estranged husband, is the man to ask.
He has one question to ask himself.
How much will it take for her to come back to me?


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EXCERPT

I sat in my office for the better part of the morning
yesterday, staring at a long list of things to do now that winter is upon us. There
was no way in hell I was going to be able to look it over if I didn’t pull my
head out of my ass. I have always taken every job I’ve had seriously. Pushed myself
to the limit. But when the woman you love is mere feet away from you after
years of you not being able to touch her, then your job goes down with it. At least
it has for me.

I’m anything but calm. I’m fucking seething.

I came home from seeing her in that window and beat the hell
out of my punching bag until my knuckles were raw. I thought about moving so I
would never have to see her again. Then quickly changed my mind because the
thought of her eventually finding someone else, another man touching what
belongs to me, made me want to put a bullet through my head. I’ll die if I find
out someone has. I had to call Hunter to calm me down. He laughed for all of
ten seconds. Then he sobered right up and started paddling in the opposite direction.
“You man the hell up, boy. Right your wrongs and fight for that girl. I can’t
imagine what she’s going through. Can you?” he said. My jaw dropped. His words
punched me in the gut. But to hear him say the words that have been rotting
away in my stomach had me falling back in a chair. My legs were no longer able
to hold me.

I wasn’t about to argue with him when what he said was
right. Not to mention, I respected the man. Adriana has and still is living in
hell. We both have.

Then I drank. My mind kept fading back to last night, how
she went from her playful, seductive way to a traumatized victim of life’s
cruelty. It was written all over her face, her body. She’s on the verge of
falling apart, and even though she held herself together well, when she turned
around her face gave it all away.mMy beautiful Adriana is barely keeping it
together. I could see right through her. She’s lost.

My mind goes back to this same day years ago. Burning blue orbs
watched my every move, sending blood straight to my dick. Those eyes needed to
be staring down at me while she rode him. I lifted my hand to reveal a sexy-as-hell
corset. My own blues traveled up and down her body. Fuck, this would look good
on her. It was purple. My favorite color next to the nude of her creamy-white
skin. She immediately looked away when her sister strolled in dressed in
clothes that looked like she’d slept in them. Hair a mess and eyes so red you
would have to get up close to see their true color. I went from being turned
the fuck on to royally fucking pissed. On our anniversary, no less.

I did my best to pay attention to what was happening between
the two of them as my fingers flexed around the silky material in anger.
Adriana loved the feel of silk. I loved the feel of her. But the sight of
Alexis being here was enough to make me sick. My ears were hurting as I tried
to pay attention to what they were saying.

“What on earth is she doing here looking like that, damn
her?” I grumbled. I knew what she was doing, and I hated her all the more for
it. She was trying to save her ass before I had the chance to try and set her
straight. To backpaddle. And the part of her that wasn’t high on whatever her
choice of the day was, was eating away at her. She knew she fucked up in the
worst possible way. Stupid bitch. I didn’t like her before. I hated her now,
and I had every reason to.

Adriana and Alexis argued for minutes. I knew Adriana wasn’t
buying her excuses. She had heard them all. All except the one I threatened
Alexis to keep hidden. I was ready to break the two of them apart when her
sister stormed out of the store and those once burning eyes quickly smoldered
out with tears. With the garment still in my hands, I made it to her just
before her legs gave out. I took her in my arms, cradled her to my chest, and
held on tight while she let it all out. All the time knowing this was our last
anniversary to be together and it was fucking ruined.

Everything about Adriana mirrors the same as that incident years
ago. She’s barely holding herself together. The sadness, the shame, the guilt.
Not a one of them is her fault. It’s fucking fate. The word so many people in this
fucked-up world we live in believe in.

“I don’t know what to do. I had every intention of telling
her everything last night. Fuck, I even brought the file with me so she could
read it, because I wasn’t sure I had it in me to tell her how my greed in
trying to give her the world nearly cost her life. She’s so fucking broken over
everything that has happened to her that I’m afraid she won’t be able to handle
this.” I’ve never believed in fate. Not until she moved here. What I used to
believe in was a love so powerful it can’t be stopped no matter how much a person
tries. No matter how many unmovable obstructions are thrown in its path. Love
always finds a way. I’m just not so sure of it anymore. This whole thing is a
riddle full of confusing. I just need to get her back.

About Kathy Coopmans

USA Today Best Selling Author Kathy Coopmans is a Michigan native where she lives with her husband, Tony. They have two son’s Aaron and Shane.

She is a sports nut. Her favorite sports include NASCAR, Baseball, and Football.
She has recently retired from her day job to become a full-time writer. 

She has always been an avid reader and at the young age of 50 decided she wanted to write. She claims she can do several things at once and still stay on task. Her favorite quote is “I got this.”

 

    COVER REVEAL ~ SAVIOR by S.L. SCOTT

From New York Times Bestselling Author, S.L. SCOTT, comes the conclusion to the captivating series, The Kingwood Duet. With memorable characters and an unforgettable story, it is one you do not want to miss! 

 

Title: Savior

Series: The Kingwood Duet, book 2

Genre: Mystery, Romantic Suspense

Release Date: August 13, 2017

Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

 

Pre-Order on Amazon HERE

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SYNOPSIS

New York Times Bestselling Author’s new ROMANTIC SUSPENSE duet has readers consumed by the BREATHTAKING love and mysteries that lie between the pages.

Everything is not as it seems.

Alexander IV has succeeded to the throne of the billion-dollar Kingwood Empire, but the people he thought he could trust aren’t allies.

They’re enemies.

Everyone he cares about is at risk.

Decisions–SACRIFICES–must be made.

What will he do to protect the people he loves? Will Sara Jane live or die?

Find out NOW in this EPIC conclusion to the bestselling The Kingwood Duet.

 

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COMPLETEDUET

ADDITIONAL TITLES IN THE KINGWOOD DUET

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AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY:

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Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She’s obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she’s a pro.

 

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                                 RELEASE BLITZ                                            ABSINTHE by WINTER RENSHAW

 
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The name on the screen was “Absinthe.”

I knew her as the sultry voice blowing up my phone for late night chats about Proust and Hemingway interspersed between the best phone sex I never knew I could have.

We’d never met.

Until the day she walked into my office, her cherry lips wrapped around a candy apple sucker and an all too familiar voice that said, “They said you wanted to see me, Principal Hawthorne?”

 

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4.5 Stars: Reviewed by Emma-Louise on behalf of KFF

 

Absinthe, an intoxicating foray into the head of two very messed up people. What starts off as a simple case of blowing off steam and boredom on an online dating app, soon becomes one of the most heartrending love stories I have encountered.

Halston and Ford aren’t just a forbidden romance, they’re survivors; the author takes these characters to places I didn’t think my heart could survive. Halston had a hard time of it growing up.  She learned to rely on herself and not to trust anyone.

“My entire life, nothing’s ever come easy.  The kind of simple luxuries afforded to someone else seems to have skipped over me.”

“Some people are born with silver spoons.  I was born with a rusted paring knife.”

Ford was a tougher nut to crack.  A rough background with a tinge of Cinderella added into the mix. This may be a taboo Teacher/Student book in its basest form, but what Absinthe does that I have hardly ever seen is restraint. I won’t say much more, purely because I don’t want to ruin what is a beautiful book about mending broken souls and finding love in the most unexpected of places and people.

“I loved you since the very beginning.  And I’ll love you until the very end.”

 

 

Prologue



Ford

“You wanted to see me, Principal Hawthorne?”
I know that voice. I’d know it anywhere.
Glancing up from my desk, I find a girl in skintight athletic leggings and a low-cut tank top standing in my office doorway, her full lips wrapped around a shiny sucker and a familiar electric jade gaze trained on me.
It’s her.
The woman I spent most of all summer chatting with under the anonymous veil of a dating app—one in specifically meant for adults seeking connections but not commitment. I purchased a stock photo for seven dollars, chose a pseudonym, Kerouac, and messaged a woman by the name of Absinthe who quoted Hemingway in her bio when everyone else quoted Nickelback and John Legend.
Fuck.
Me.
“You must be Halston.” My skin is on fire. I stand, smooth my tie, and point to the seat across from me. I never knew her name, but I’d know that voice anywhere. I can’t even count how many times I came to the sound of her breathy rasp describing all the wicked things she’d do to me if we ever met, reading me excerpts from Rebecca. “Take a seat.”
She takes her time pulling the sucker from her mouth before strutting to my guest chair, lowering herself, cleavage first, and crossing her long legs. The tiniest hint of a smirk claims her mouth, but if she knows it’s me, she’s sure as hell not acting like it.
“You want to tell me what happened with Mrs. Rossi?” I ask, returning to my seat and folding my hands on my desk.
I may be a lot of things; overconfident prick, allergic to commitment, red-blooded American man …
But I’m a professional first.
“Mrs. Rossi and I had an argument,” Halston says. “We were discussing the theme of The Great Gatsby, and she was trying to say that it was about chasing the elusive American dream. I told her she missed the entire fucking point of one of the greatest pieces of literature in existence.” She takes another suck of her candy before continuing, then points it in my direction. “The real theme has to do with manipulation and dishonesty, Principal Hawthorne. Everyone in that book was a fucking liar, most of all Jay, and in the end, he got what he deserved. They all did.”
My cock strains against the fabric of my pants. It’s her voice. It’s her goddamned sex-on-fire voice that’s doing this to me. That and her on point dissection of classic American literature. Sexy, intelligent, outspoken. Three elusive qualities I’ve yet to find in another human being. Until her. And knowing that now, I couldn’t even have her if I wanted her, isn’t doing me any favors. If I don’t compose myself, I’m going to be hard as a fucking rock.
“Language,” I say. The room is growing hotter now, but I keep a stern, undeterred presence.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m an adult, Principal Hawthorne. I can say words like fuck.”
“Not in my office, you can’t.” I exhale. “And not in class either. That’s why Mrs. Rossi sent you here.”
“The jackass behind me was drawing swastikas on his notebook, but I get sent down here for saying ‘fuck.’” Her head shakes.
“I’ll discuss that with Mrs. Rossi privately.” I scribble a note to myself and shove it aside.
“You’re really young for a principal.” Her charged gaze drags the length of me. “Did you just graduate from college or something?”
Six years of school and two years of teaching place me in the budding stages of a career shaping and educating the minds of tomorrow’s leaders, but I refuse to dignify her question with a response.
“My age is irrelevant,” I say.
“Age is everything.” She twirls a strand of pale hair around her finger, her lips curling up in the corners. The cute-and-coy shtick must work on everyone else, but it’s not going to work on me. Not here anyway. And not anymore.
“I said my age is irrelevant.”
“Am I the first student you’ve ever had to discipline?” She sits up, crossing and uncrossing her legs with the provocative charm of a 1940s pin up. “Wait, are you going to discipline me?”
I take mental notes for her file.
–       Challenges authority
–       Difficulty conducting herself appropriately
–       Possible boundary issues
“I’m not going to punish you, Halston. Consider this a verbal warning.” I release a hard breath through my nose as I study her, refusing to allow my eyes to drift to the soft swell of her breasts casually peeking out of her top. Knowing her so intimately over the phone, and being in her presence knowing she’s completely off limits, makes it difficult to maintain my unshaken demeanor. “From now on, I’d like you to refrain from using curse words while on school grounds. It’s disruptive to the other students who are here to actually glean something from their high school education.”
“I don’t know.” Her lips bunch at the corner, and she fights a devilish grin. “I mean, I can try, but ‘fuck’ is one of my favorite words in the English language. What if I can’t stop saying it? Then what?”
“Then we’ll worry about that when the time comes,” I say.
“You could always bend me over your knee and spank me.” She rises, wrapping her lips around the sucker before plucking it out of her mouth with a wet pop. “Or maybe you could fuck my brains out and break my heart.”
“Excuse me?” My skin heats, but I refuse to let her see that she’s having any kind of effect on me.
“You’re him,” she says, as if it’s some ace she’s been keeping up her sleeve this entire time. “You’re Kerouac.”
I’m at an extraordinary loss for words, trying to wrap my head around all the ways this could go very fucking wrong for me.

 

 

 

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

 

And if you’d like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list HERE

 

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                                RELEASE BOOST                                    TRASHY FOREPLAY by GEMMA JAMES

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Trashy Foreplay by Gemma James is LIVE!

Scandalous. Shameful. TRASHY.

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Blurb:

Never flirt with temptation.
Never lust after what I can’t have.
And never, under any circumstances, screw a married man again.

By the time this story is told, I’ll have failed at all three…

With my heart and reputation in ruins, I can’t afford to make another mistake. Boarding a flight to Seattle is supposed to give me a clean slate, but from the moment Cash Montgomery slides into the seat next to mine, I’m captivated by his steel eyes that see too much. I ache for this stranger in a way I’ve never ached for anyone.

But I didn’t know he was married, and I sure as hell didn’t see the curveball fate had in store. My clean slate in Seattle isn’t so clean after all because my new boss is the man forbidden to me.

And the only man I want.

The only man I’ll do anything for, even if it means breaking the promise I made to myself when I fled my old life in shame.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for a married man, but I did.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Though the subject matter deals with cheating, there are no innocent parties here. Book 1 in the Trashy Affair series.

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4.5 Stars

Reviewed by Klaire Sutherland on behalf of KFF

Oh my word, Gemma James…what did you write lady?

When I signed up for Trashy Foreplay, I did so with great trepidation. The last book I read from Gemma James was from the Condemned series; dark, twisty books that assuaged my palette for reading. I loved those books, and still they remain among one of my favourite series. I was wary about reading her New Adult work in case it disappointed. I knew it was different but the irresistible pull of this author, and the way she writes, pulled me in.

I hoovered the first chapter, falling in love again with the way this author so eloquently writes. I was immersed in the feels and the emotions that were emoted through her character, Jules, who we meet first. Then in walks Cash, equally emotive and just as devastated as Jules. From the moment they meet, you feel it, and you just know Trashy Foreplay is going to drag you through the ringer. There’s nothing trashy about this novel. Nothing. I’m not recapping the story here, you need to read it and make up your own mind.

From a technical point of view, Trashy Foreplay is as cliched and overdone as you can get. But Gemma James takes the plot and absolutely owns it, makes it her own. The book put me a little in mind of Mo Mabie’s Bait. That’s not to say it’s a carbon copy, because it’s not, the book is so far from it. However, Gemma James writes some exquisite angst that rivals Bait, another book I loved for this very reason. I fought to find the right words to describe how I felt through many of the chapters. Watching Jules and Cash struggle had me feeling hopeless on occasions. Despair – it’s the only word to sum up a large portion of my feelings while reading.

We have to talk cliff hangers – because Trashy Foreplay has one. It’s quick. There’s a phenomenal high, luring the reader into a false sense of security – them boom! It all comes tumbling down in true cliffy style. And this is where my 4.5 review comes in. Trashy Foreplay was riding the coat tails of five shiny stars until the very last sentence. Not because it was a cliff hanger, no. I love a good one. More so the fact that I felt it was weak, too tame and didn’t seem in keeping with the book. Any other author and I’d say they lacked courage to pull out the big guns but not this author. Gemma James has the guts to twist a reader sideways and isn’t afraid to do it, nor think twice. So, the cliff hanger confused me until I sat and thought about it in terms of follow through to the next book. I get it, I do. There’s much more to that story thread. Still, it didn’t sit so well with me.

Trashy Foreplay is a book you will devour and despair over. Gemma James stabs her inked pen into your heart a time or two before you reach the end. I understand why this book was difficult to write but boy, oh boy did the author absolutely nail it. If you pick up on the subtle hints and twists woven between the obvious then you’ve done well and I see no reason why you won’t be champing at the bit for round two. I know I am.

Highly recommended for the angst, the flair, the beauty of Gemma James words bringing this story to light. Sublimely seductive. I hope you enjoy as much as I did.

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Excerpt:

I go perfectly still as his arm snakes around me from behind. A warm palm flattens against my stomach, and the tips of his fingers inch beneath the waistband of my jeans. Everything south of that tempting hand flares to life, setting off a deep ache I know only he can fix.

Pulling me against his body, he leans down and whispers into my ear. “Watching him touch you is killing me.”

“Knowing you’re married is killing me.”

He curses under his breath. A hint of his woodsy cologne, along with the sweet aroma of bourbon fills my nostrils.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Maybe a little.” He whirls me around until we’re face-to-face, and my heart flutters in my throat as he tightens his arms around me. “Come upstairs with me.”

His proximity riots through me, the heat of his body sizzling all the way to my fucking toes. We fall into a lazy sway, dancing but not quite, and for a crazy second, I consider following him to the VIP area in the loft. As far as I can tell it’s empty unless a stray couple is hiding in the shadows in the very back. I doubt it though. The club is vibrating with restless energy as everyone crowds the first floor in anticipation of the concert.

“Look at me, Jules.”

His words jolt me to awareness, and I realize I’m staring at his chest. I curl my hands into fists at my sides, too tempted to run my palms down that broad expanse hiding underneath cotton. I bet it’s the softest material on the planet, but I won’t find out because I’m not going there.

Nope.

Not. Gonna. Do. It.

Because I have zero control right now, and we’re standing in the middle of a busy club with God-knows-who watching. And if I do touch him…I might not stop.

“Jules,” he murmurs. “Bring those gorgeous eyes up here.”

I lift my chin and dive headfirst into the fire of his gaze. His eyes are a smoldering, liquid steel. “Cash…please…”

“Please what?”

“Don’t make me want to give in. You’re married.” My voice cracks on that ugly word.

“My marriage is a sham.”

“Your marriage is your business.” I grip his arms, intending to push him away. But somewhere along the way, my brain gets its wires crossed, and I end up curling my fingers around his biceps. God, he’s built—solid man through and through.

“I disagree,” he says, dipping his head until our mouths linger a hairsbreadth from each other. “Everything about me is very much your business.”

“W-why?”

“Because I can’t feel this way about you without it being your business.”

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About the Author:

Gemma James is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling author of a blend of genres, from new adult suspense to dark erotic romance. She loves to explore the darker side of human nature in her fiction, and she’s morbidly curious about anything dark and edgy, from deviant sex to serial killers. Readers have described her stories as being “not for the faint of heart.”

She warns you to heed their words! Her playground isn’t full of rainbows and kittens, though she likes both. She lives in Oregon with her husband and their four children–three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.

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