THE FALL OF LEGEND by Meghan March is LIVE!

Today we are thrilled to be sharing New York Times bestselling author Meghan March deliciously dangerous alpha hero in
THE FALL OF LEGEND, the first book in the brand
new and utterly addictive Legend trilogy.


We come from two different worlds.

I’m from the streets. She might as well live in an ivory tower.

I made my living with my fists. I doubt she could even throw a punch.

Our paths never should have crossed.

We never should have met. 

That doesn’t change the facts.

I would sell my soul to taste those red lips.

Fight the devil himself to hear her laugh.

Burn in hell to have a single night.

Scarlett Priest shouldn’t even know men like me exist, but sometimes temptation is stronger than will. 

If this is how I go down, it’ll be worth every second of the fall.


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Meet Meghan

Making the jump from corporate lawyer to romance author was a leap of faith that New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Meghan March will never regret. With over thirty titles published, she has sold millions of books in nearly a dozen languages to fellow romance-lovers around the world. A nomad at heart, she can currently be found in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, living her happily ever after with her real-life alpha hero.

Find Meghan online here:  MeghanMarch.com | Facebook | Instagram |  Twitter | BookBub Goodreads | Book+Main | Amazon

To get the inside scoop on a daily basis, join in the fun in Meghan March’s Runaway Readers Facebook Group → HERE

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CHAPTER REVEAL ~ IN THE UNLIKELY EVENT by L.J. Shen

Sometimes you meet people who are out of this world, so you make them a part of yours.

IN THE UNLIKELY EVENT, an all-new “messy, sexy, laugh-out-loud, cry-out-loud romance” from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen is coming 19th November, and today we have a sneak peek of chapter one just for you!

In the Unlikely Event AMAZON

A one-night stand born from vengeance in a foreign land.

An explosive chemistry neither of us could deny.

We signed a contract on the back of a Boar’s Head Pub napkin that said if we ever met again, we would drop everything and be together.

Eight years and thousands of miles later, he’s here.

In New York.

And he’s America’s music obsession.

The intangible Irish poet who brings record executives to their knees.

The blizzard in my perfect, unshaken snow globe.

Last time we spoke, he was a beggar with no intention of becoming a king.

But a king he became, and now I’m his servant.

I’m not the same broken princess Malachy Doherty put back together with his callused hands.

I have a career I love.

A boyfriend I adore.

An apartment, a roommate, a life.

I changed. He changed, too.

But Mal kept the napkin.

Question is, will I keep my word?


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Sneak Peek from In the Unlikely Event: Chapter One

© 2019 L.J. Shen
All rights reserved.

 
Present day

Rory

My life is contained in a round, beautiful snow globe.

The kind no one has bothered to pick up from the dusty shelf in years. Unshaken. Quiet and still. From the outside, my manicured Swiss village looks perfect. And it is. Kind of. At twenty-six, it appears I have my life together.

Perfect job.

Perfect apartment.

Perfect roommate.

Perfect boyfriend.

Perfect lies.

Well, they’re not lies, per se. All my accomplishments are real. I worked hard for them. Problem is, I promised eight years ago to give them all away in the blink of an eye if I bumped into him again. But back then, I wasn’t the same person I am today.

I was lost. Grieving. Broken. Confused.

Not that it matters, because that was then, and this is now, and it’s not him I’m staring at. Nope. There’s no way.

It’s not.

…Then why can’t I tear my eyes from the mysterious stranger who glides through the doors of The Beerchman Hotel’s ballroom, turning every head along the way?

Ruddy cheeks tarnished by the unforgiving winter, an aristocratic square jaw, Roman nose, and lips made for the darkest sins and most sordid pleasures—all framed by tousled, coal black hair curling at the ears like ivy, rumpled in a thousand different directions. His slanted, brooding eyes, broad shoulders, and narrow hips make him more than handsome. He’s perfect. Too perfect.

As with all cruel, fairy-tale princes, I long to spot something that would indicate his immortality, a lack of humanity. Something that would prove his perfection truly is impossible.

Pointy ears. Long fangs. A little tail.

C’mon, God, give me something to work with here. Anything.

He is tall, but not enough to demand any special attention. No, Malachy Doherty doesn’t need imperial height, fancy clothes, or millions in the bank to justify the awe he triggers in people. His existence alone is enough to make women fall to their knees. I saw it then. I see it now.

All eyes at the ball are on this enigmatic man, mine included.

Stop it, Rory. It’s not him.

If only I could see his eyes. Then I’d be able to put this to rest, to know for sure. No one else has those eyes. A rare shade of violet, like crushed crystal candy.

Lack of melanin mixed with light reflecting off red blood vessels,” Mal explained the night he took my innocence, heart, and panties all in the same breath.

I watch as the man strides past security and into the VIP area without missing a step, ignoring the curious glances and lip-biting female admirers. Even celebrities throw themselves at him, chasing his lazy stride, trying to strike up a conversation as the large, bald bouncer unhooks the red velvet rope separating the mortals from the deities.

The man who cannot be Mal ambles toward the bar, his eyes zeroed in on something. Or rather someone: record label tycoon Jeff Ryner, who has up-and-coming R&B darling Alice Christensen, known onstage as Alicious, sprawled in his lap. Jeff’s forty-something face is hued pink by excessive drinking and cocaine.

As the man approaches, Ryner stands, letting Alicious slip from his lap, her ass hitting the floor with a thump. Stepping over her body, he rushes to Mystery Man, falls to his knees theatrically, and plucks a large stack of cash from his breast pocket to wave in the stranger’s face. The man who is not Mal lets loose a cold smirk, plucks the money from Ryner’s sausage-like fingers, and slips it into his coat pocket, saying something that makes Ryner stand up in a rush.

Well, that puts a lid on things.

Mal would die before making a deal with a bigwig like my boss. Set himself on fire before attending a glamorous gala. Drink cyanide straight from the bottle before associating himself with the likes of Jeff Ryner.

Mal is not cold, or arrogant, or high-browed. He cuts his own hair and high-fives strangers and thinks brown sauce is the cure for all of the world’s problems. Mal hates lavish events, entertainment journals, mainstream record labels, and elegant food. He loves his mammy, having the craic, getting shit-faced, and songwriting while lying under the flawless night sky in his backyard. He refused a check for sixteen-grand a pop sweetheart tried to give him to buy one of his songs, simply because he had a good laugh watching her confused manager and agent try to decipher the word no.

But that was eight years ago, a little voice inside me points out. For a period of twenty-four hours.

What do I know about today’s Malachy Doherty?

What did I ever know about him at all?

“There she is.”

Callum’s arms wrap around my waist. I jump in surprise, his posh, English accent startling me for a second.

“The belle of the ball.” His lips, still cold from the outside, brush my ear from behind.

“You made it.” I turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a peck on the lips, like punching a time card. He’s still wearing his pale gray suit from the office.

Don’t I always?” He scrunches his nose.

He does. Callum is the most precise, trustworthy man I’ve ever dated. The exact opposite of spacey, unreliable Mal. When I look again, I see that my boyfriend has remembered to wear my favorite tie. Dark green with strings of gold. When we spotted it in the store, about two weeks into our relationship, I told him it reminded me of Ireland, and he immediately bought it.

I yank the Nikon D18 he bought me for my birthday from my purse and snap a picture of him, capturing his rich-boy, pouty smile as he searches my face for approval.

I’ve been freelancing as a photographer for Blue Hill Records ever since I got my arts degree four years ago. It pays next to nothing, but next to nothing is still better than actual nothing, which is what I got paid when I interned here for the first three years. I work a part-time job as a bartender to pay my astronomical Manhattan rent.

It’s not that I have to live the poor Manhattan girl cliché. I have an inheritance from my late father, but I refuse to touch it. Using it never even crossed my mind. I’d burn the money if I could, but that would give my mom a heart attack, and I don’t want that on my conscience.

I never wanted the money. I only ever wanted my dad in my life.

“You look gorgeous, love.” Callum captures my chin with the back of his thumb, tilting my head up.

Do I, though? I’m the opposite of what a man like Callum would usually go for. I have pale, borderline-sickly skin, big green eyes always framed by an industrial amount of eyeliner, a nose hoop, and an undying love for everything punk rock, which is probably getting a little old at my ripe age of soon-to-be twenty-seven.

Right now, my red-gold roots are showing at the top of my long, silver-ombre hair. Like strawberries in the snow, Callum says when my roots are showing. I’m wearing a messy ponytail, and I have on a striped red and white dress, which I paired with Toms and a studded choker. Put simply, I could pass as a Victorian ghost who got lost at Spencer’s.

Sometimes I suspect that’s what drew Callum to me in the first place. That eccentric, vibrant shell that could elevate his status more than any plastic trophy wife could.

“Look how open-minded and hip Callum is, with his hipster, artistic, holds-on-to-an-actual-job girlfriend. Her breasts are unenhanced, and she is not on a first-name basis with the saleswomen at Neiman Marcus.”

“I look like something from the cast of Beetlejuice.” I laugh, kissing his neck. His low rumble vibrates against my body.

Callum removes a lock of my hair that has escaped my hair tie with the back of his palm and presses his lips to the flesh he just exposed at the base of my neck.

“I like Beetlejuice.”

He’s never watched it. He told me so on our first date, but correcting him seems redundant, and like I’m trying to find non-existent issues in our relationship.

“You know who else I like?” He dips his head down for another kiss. “You, in that Tiffany’s necklace I bought you.

Eh, yeah. The one he gave me, along with a sensible dress, because I’m cool, but not always cool enough to look the way I do next to his friends.

“Careful. I’m turning twenty-seven in a couple months. You might give me ideas,” I tease. The words feel empty on my tongue, but I know how much pleasure he takes in hearing this.

“My father told me not to threaten a whore with a dick. Do you know what that means, Aurora Belle Jenkins?”

That’s my tall, stockbroker, Wolf of Wall Street boyfriend. With his Eton and Oxford education. With his impeccable manners and dirty mouth.

The man whose only fault is being exactly what my mother wished for me.

Rich. Powerful. Well-bred.

Stable. Sweet. Boring.

What Mom doesn’t know is I like Callum despite all of those things, not because of them. It took me six months to relent to his persuasion, because I knew she’d like him, and the things my mother likes are usually artificial and shallow.

He’d been chasing me around for months. Finally, he showed up at the bar located beneath his apartment—coincidently the one I work at—and slammed his palm against the counter.

“Tell me what it’d take to make you mine,” he slurred that night.

“Stop looking put together and on the sanity spectrum,” I deadpanned. “You remind me of everything my mother wants. And my mother wants all the wrong things.”

“Is that why you keep saying no?” He frowned, confused. “I come here every night, begging for a chance, and you turn me down because your mother could like me, God forbid?”

I shrugged, reaching for another steaming-hot glass, wiping off the condensation.

“I’m a clusterfuck, love. I failed my first year at Oxford. Miserably. And not for lack of trying.”

I arched an eyebrow, giving him a really? smile. I needed more to work with.

Callum blew out air, shaking his arms like he was getting ready for a marathon.

“All right, let’s see. I have a birthmark the size of my fist on my arse. I still eat Lucky Charms for breakfast. Every. Single. Day. My personal trainer says I have the arms of Rhys Ifans, also known as Hugh Grant’s roommate in Notting Hill. I…I…I can’t swim!” He threw his arms up in the air, triumphed, as everyone around us lifted their heads from their drinks and smiled.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Maybe he was imperfect, but he was far from the kind of mess I was usually attracted to. Debbie, AKA Mom, had always complained that I only went for the last of the litter. The broken, misunderstood, messed-up ones who couldn’t offer me more than a heartache and STDs.

It wasn’t untrue. I didn’t look at men very much, but when I did, they always came with more issues than Vogue.

Callum had leaned forward then, his entire torso plastered on the counter, and framed his mouth with his hands, pretending to whisper in my ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“I’ve a feeling you will, anyway.”

“I think you were put on this earth to destroy me.”

I laughed, taking a step back. The conversation with Mal from all those years ago floated to the front of my mind, reminding me I’d heard those words before. Things Mal and I said to each other always lurked in the recesses of my thoughts.

Mal had told me I could kill him.

He didn’t know that in a way, he’d killed me, too.

Every day I lived without him slugged by like a snail, leaving a trail of slimy goo in its wake.

“Okay, fella. Time I call you a cab.” I tapped the back of Callum’s hand.

That was before I knew he owned the penthouse upstairs.

“I’m serious,” he pouted again.

He knew he was attractive. Knew his angles, the charm in his accent, how to work a girl into giving him her number. Unfortunately, I was immune.

Putting another clean glass aside, I threw the cloth over my shoulder.

“Can I tell you another secret?” He dragged his thumb across his lips.

That’s when I noticed his lips were ridiculously kissable, even without the pout.

“Do you always ask for permission before you say things?” I cocked my head.

He laughed. “Usually, believe it or not, I’m the one people ask permission from. Anyway, I’m not even drunk. This beer? It’s the only pint you’ve served me tonight, and it’s full. I don’t come here to get pissed, Aurora. I come here because of you.”

I paused, my eyes glued to his pint. He was telling the truth. I knew because I served him every night. It occurred to me that he was the exact opposite of Mal—the fancy clothes, the properness, the sobriety. Maybe he was what I needed to rid my mind of lingering thoughts of the Irish poet.

Which meant Callum was also the exact opposite of my father.

Which meant that for the sake of my sanity, I should at least give him a chance.

He was my redo. My second chance. My redemption.

“So? Would you give me one date?” he begged. “I promise to prove to be wonderfully unstable, with a dash of incompetence, and provide you with plenty of unpredictability.”

Fine.” I rolled my eyes with a giddy smile.

“Ha!” He slapped the bar in triumph. “It was the unstable bit that did it, wasn’t it?” He settled himself back down, pushing his beer away like he finally could, like it revolted him. “Always gets the ladies,” he said.

I take a deep breath, meeting Callum’s eyes in the ballroom. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me all about the whores and the dicks,” I say, his erection throbbing between my legs through his cigar pants and my dress.

For the record: Callum lied that night at the bar. Not one bone in his entire body is messy, risky, or uncalculated. As for the birthmark? His skin is as unmarred as a blank new sheet of paper.

Callum Brooks is attractive in a Nantucket-summer-house, two-point-five-children, Polo-shirts-and-golf-tournaments kind of way, with his pulled-up white socks, sandy blond hair, impressive height, and runner’s body. Summer, my best friend, likes to joke that he looks like David Duke’s dream candidate.

He looks into my eyes. “I’m a serial monogamist, thirty-two, and have been dating you for almost a year. Commitment doesn’t scare me, Rory. If I have it my way, you’ll move in with me tomorrow morning.”

I unbutton his blazer and loosen his tie, just to do something with my hands. I like Callum, too, but a year is still early in our relationship.

It took you twenty-four hours to promise Mal your forever, says the voice in my head.

I was also new to dick and non-self-induced orgasms. I proceed to make excuses for my eighteen-year-old self.

Callum ushers me to our table. We sit down next to a bunch of suits from accounting and marketing, who munch on their first-course ceviche and talk about hedge funds and newly popular beach towns that are driving people out of the Hamptons. Callum slides into the conversation effortlessly, sticking to his club soda—as he does, still without a drop of alcohol. I focus on my colleagues, trying to put the man in the VIP area behind me.

As I said before, it’s not Mal. And, okay, fine. Let’s humor the craziest part of my brain and say that it is him—so what? He didn’t see me. And I’m not going to approach him, either. He’s probably in town for a few days. Mal’s extremely devoted to his family, his farm, his country. I knew that when I met him. That man wouldn’t move to America. Not even for a girl.

Especially not for a girl.

Definitely not this girl.

As for money? He doesn’t care for it. Never did.

I nibble on a breadstick, down two glasses of wine, and find myself engrossed in a heated conversation, which has taken a turn from beach houses to the best public restrooms in Manhattan (Crate and Barrel on the corner of Houston and Broadway is in the lead), when Whitney, Ryner’s bitch-from-hell assistant, sashays over to our table, her hips swinging like a pendulum. Her short, platinum bob is cut with a precision that implies her hairdresser uses a ruler. She is wearing some sort of BDSM gown made of leather stripes that cover her nipples and midriff, and not much more. She cocks her head, pouting her scarlet lips.

Everyone stops talking, because Whitney knows how to keep a secret like I know how to stay away from carbs. Exhibit: breadsticks and wine.

“Aurora,” she purrs, parking a manicured hand on her waist.

Everyone calls me Rory, but Whitney calls me Aurora. I made the mistake of expressing my dislike for my name once during a pop star’s photo shoot she attended with Ryner. Since then, I’ve been Aurora to her. If I told her I was allergic to money, she’d immediately wire the company’s entire budget into my bank account.

There’s an idea.

“Whit.” I pop the last piece of breadstick into my mouth, not bothering to meet her eyes.

“Mr. Ryner would like to have a word with you on the balcony.” She glances at me under pinched eyebrows. I swear Whitney takes orgasmic pleasure in clearing her throat and adding suggestively, “Alone.

Squeezing my shoulder blades together and tilting my chin up, I head toward the VIP area’s terrace, knocking back my third glass of wine for liquid courage. Ryner is always two hundred pounds of sexual harassment, but especially when he is high and drunk. Which he definitely is right now. I tuck the napkin with the hotel logo into the pocket of my dress. Glancing back, I see Whitney sliding into my seat and casing her red-nailed claws on Callum’s shoulder, shooting him a sugary smile. Whitney would love nothing more than to prove she’s better than me. And she certainly is, if the criteria is best Desperate Housewives imposter from a plastic suburban neighborhood.

The last thing I catch is her whispering something intimate to Callum. He frowns and shakes his head, no. Whatever she told him, he seems upset by the suggestion.

Walking through the double doors, I find the balcony completely empty. It’s colder than my mother’s heart in here. I rub my arms, cursing myself for leaving my coat inside, and gait to the railing, admiring the view.

Not only is it freezing, but I’m always cold. Ever since I was born, ever since I can remember, I wear sweaters and fluffy jackets everywhere. It’s like there’s an invisible layer of ice coating my skin at all times.

I look up, blinking back at the stars, admiring their beauty even in this weather.

Approaching footsteps clack on the floor behind me. Something heavy falls on my shoulders. A rich wool coat, still warm from body heat. It smells masculine and expensive: clean earth, pine, smoke, and the type of cologne that’s too pricey for mass retail. A shadow looms by my side. He puts a glass of whiskey on the wide marble bannister, his elbow next to mine, almost touching, but not quite.

I twist my head, expecting to see Ryner, and come face to face with…Mal.

My Mal. It is him after all.

Malachy Doherty, with the lilac eyes. With the hypnotic smile. With the contract I signed on the napkin.

With the piece of my heart he never gave back.

Only he is not smiling anymore. It doesn’t look like he’s happy to see me.

He said if we ever met again, he’d marry me, no matter what. But that was almost a decade ago—under the influence of alcohol and lust and youth. Of possibility.

Mal opens his mouth. “Hello, darlin.”

At his rough Irish accent, my knees buckle, and I find myself grasping the bannister.

The first flakes of snow fall around us. On my nose. Eyelashes. Shoulders. A storm is brewing inside my snow globe.
 


MEET L.J. SHEN

LJShen.jpgL.J. Shen is a USA Today, Washington Post and Amazon #1 Best-selling author of contemporary, New Adult and YA romance. Her books have been sold to nineteen different countries.

She lives in California with her husband, son, cat and eccentric fashion choices, and enjoys good wine, bad reality TV shows and catching sun rays with her lazy cat.

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REVIEW TOUR ~ DIRTY LETTERS by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Today we are thrilled to be sharing our review of New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s all-new contemporary romance stand-alone, DIRTY LETTERS


I’d never forgotten him—a man I’d yet to meet.

Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break.

Until one day it did.

Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one—one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing.

Griffin forgave me, and somehow we were able to rekindle our childhood connection. Only now we were adults, and that connection had grown to a spark. Our letters quickly went from fun to flirty to downright dirty, revealing our wildest fantasies. So it only made sense that we would take our relationship to the next level and see each other in person.

Only Griff didn’t want to meet. He asked that I trust him and said it was for the best. But I wanted more—more Griff, in the flesh—so I took a big chance and went looking for him. People have done crazier things for love.

But what I found could change everything.

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Reviewed by Sharon Thérèse at KFF

When Ward and Keeland get together, I don’t even have to read the blurb because I know their dual-penmanship is going to get more than a laugh out of me. Seriously, this read stirs all the feels and has everything I look for in a romance. It’s different, refreshing and super entertaining. But saying that, the storyline has an incredibly sensitive touch to it, making me root full out for the heroine.

‘Stopping our communication was probably one of my biggest regrets in life.’

What the heck do you do when crowds make you come undone? It’s not an easy feat for Luca to handle her anxiety. She wants to. She just doesn’t know how to go about it. In steps her eccentric but adorable shrink and bestie who will make you giggle, listen to his solid advice and bowl you over with his hobby. Less said about this the better since you’ll find out that birds of the feather haven’t got as much to do with the plot…or do they! Okay, what is it about these two authors obsession with animals! They introduced us to the fainting goat in Cocky Bastard. Here, ladies, we have a PIG! An adorable squeaky, oink-oink creature which if you’re that way inclined, will make you want one, or at the very least, give it a hearty cuddle!

‘In my next life, I want to come back as a pig and be adopted by you. Is that weird?’

With made-up names, penpal letters had been the only way they’d communicated as youngsters. They’d become close friends and figuratively speaking, held each other’s hand in times of need. Suddenly, there was no news but then years later, a letter is received out of the blue. One conveys their grudge on paper without knowing the whys and wherefores of the other’s years of silence. Nonetheless, interests are piqued.

‘My mum used to say I hold grudges. But I prefer to think of it as I remember the facts. And the fact of the matter is, you suck.’

These two wasted no time getting to know their adult likes and dislikes. The Furbies…remember them? Once you find out what Luca told Griffin, I can see you all shopping online ‘cause they worked a steamy dream for her! Now then, I’m not really into reading so many subparagraphs but they are so enthralling that I couldn’t wait for either of them to receive each other’s reply. Naughty isn’t in it. Just wait until these two get together!

“Anyone I have to murder?”
“Not unless it’s a Furby.”

Griffin is to me like white chocolate. Not at all bitter and when its creamy flavour melts in your mouth, all those tastebud sensations rage for more. That is he! Nope, I’m trying not to swoon but honestly, he’s learning how to get to know this gal and being awfully considerate to boot. So how can a long-distance relationship work for them with so many handicaps? For sure, if it weren’t for the constant flow of letters and texts between these two, the whole story would have fallen flat.

“Just because something is easy doesn’t make it better. We have our issues. But being with you still feels better than anything in the world…”

Flirtatious banter is something Vi and Penelope have always given their readers. I also loved the music references and although Luca is happy for Griffin’s success, it’s short-lived because the mere fact is she knows if she can’t overcome a past happening, she’ll never fit into his world. She has the means, so why it’s such a struggle kinda caught me off balance. That being said, I have no personal reference to compare her fear factor with. You’ll have to read the book to see if she’s capable of grabbing the bull by the horns and doing something about it.

“We’re just so different, Griff. You’re a round hole, and I’m a square peg. We don’t fit.”

Low on angst but great one-liners, character development and a plot with a difference make for a worthy read. Bravo ladies!

EXCERPT

© 2019 Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
All rights reserved.

 

The small dining room table had a pile of mail. I’d had Dad’s mail forwarded to my house, so mostly it was just catalogues and junk. Once a month, Mrs. Cascio sent me everything that arrived, even though I’d told her it wasn’t necessary. I mindlessly fingered through the pile, not expecting to see anything worth keeping. But I stopped at an envelope addressed to me—well, not me, but Luca Ryan. That was a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. In second grade, my teacher, Mrs. Ryan, started a pen pal writing program with a small town in England. We weren’t allowed to use our real last names for safety reasons, so the entire class used her last name—hence I was Luca Ryan. I checked out the return address for the sender’s name.

  1. Quinn

Wow, really? It couldn’t be.

I squinted at the postmark. It was from a PO box in California, not England, but I didn’t know any other Quinn other than Griffin. And the handwriting did look pretty familiar. But it had been close to eight years since we’d exchanged letters. Why would he write now? Curious, I ripped it open and scanned right to the bottom of the letter for the name. Sure enough, it was from Griffin. I started at the beginning.

Dear Luca,

 Do you like scotch? I remember you said you didn’t like the taste of beer. But we never did get around to comparing our taste in hard liquor. Why is that, you might ask? Let me remind you—because you stopped answering my letters eight damn years ago. I wanted to let you know, I’m still pissed off about that. My mum used to say I hold grudges. But I prefer to think of it as I remember the facts. And the fact of the matter is, you suck. There, I’ve said it. I’ve been holding that shit in for a long time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not obsessive or anything. I don’t sit in my house thinking about you all day long. In fact, there have been months that go by when thoughts of you don’t even enter my brain. But then some random thing will pop into my head out of the blue. Like I’ll see some kid in a pram eating black licorice, and I’ll think of you. Side note—I’ve tried it again as an adult, and I still think it tastes like the bottom of my shoe, so perhaps it’s that you just have no taste. You probably don’t even like scotch. Anyway, I’m sure this letter won’t find its way to you. Or if by some miracle it does, you won’t answer. But if you’re reading this, you should know two things.

  1. The Macallan 1926 is worth the extra cash. Goes down smooth.
  2. You SUCK.

 Later, traitor, Griffin

 What in the hell?

I’d never forgotten him—a man I’d yet to meet.

Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break.

Until one day it did.

Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one—one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing.

Griffin forgave me, and somehow we were able to rekindle our childhood connection. Only now we were adults, and that connection had grown to a spark. Our letters quickly went from fun to flirty to downright dirty, revealing our wildest fantasies. So it only made sense that we would take our relationship to the next level and see each other in person.

Only Griff didn’t want to meet. He asked that I trust him and said it was for the best. But I wanted more—more Griff, in the flesh—so I took a big chance and went looking for him. People have done crazier things for love.

But what I found could change everything.
 


Meet Penelope

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over two million books sold, she is a twenty-one time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

Sign up for Penelope’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when her new releases go live ➜ HERE

Follow Penelope

Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Website

Twitter @penelopewardauthor | Instagram

 Goodreads | BookBub | Gmail

91FFBs19XQL._UX250_MEET VI

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when her new releases go live ➜ HERE

Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!

Follow Vi

Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook

Twitter  @vikeeland | Instagram  @Vi_Keeland

Goodreads | BookBub

other books by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Park Avenue Play

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS 

Amazon Print: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Hate Notes

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

THE RUSH SERIES (2 BOOK SERIES)

Rebel Heir

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

Rebel Heart

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Dear Bridget, I Want You

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Cocky Bastard

Amazon | iTunes  | Kobo | B&N

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Stuck-Up Suit

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

Also available on Audible and Paperback

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Playboy Pilot

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Paperback

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Mister Moneybags

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo 

Other books by Penelope

The Day He Came Back

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo 

Amazon Paperback: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

When August Ends

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS 

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo | Google Play 

Amazon Print  | Audio

KFF’S  4.5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Love Online

Amazon eBook: U.K | U.S | CANADA | AUSTRALIA 

Amazon Paperback 

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon Audio | Audible

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Gentleman Nine

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Drunk Dial

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Mack Daddy

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Room Hate

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo 

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Stepbrother Dearest

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Neighbor Dearest

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | NookKobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Sins of Sevin

Amazon: US | UK

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Jake Undone (Jake #1)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Jake Understood (Jake #2)

Amazon | B&N | iBooksKobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Gemini

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

My Sylar

Amazon | B&N |  iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

OTHER BOOKS BY VI:

All Grown Up

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon print | Audio

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

We shouldn’t!

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Amazon Paperback | Audio

AppleBooks  | Nook | Google Play

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Naked Truth

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon print | Audio

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Sex, Not Love

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

KFF’s  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Beautiful Mistake

Amazon: U.K | U.S | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google Play

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

EGOmaniac

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google Play

Audio

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Bossman

Amazon: US UK 

iBooks | B&N | Kobo 

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Baller

Amazon: US | UK 

iBooks | B&N | Kobo 

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

Beat

Amazon: US | UK

iBooks | Kobo | B&N

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Throb

Amazon: US | UK

B&N | iBooks | Kobo

KFF’S  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)

Amazon | B&N | Kobo Smashwords | iBooks

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

Amazon: US  | UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

Amazon: US | UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel) by Vi Keeland & Dylan Scott

Amazon: US | UK

KFF’S  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

 

DIRTY LETTERS by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward is LIVE!

Today we are thrilled to be sharing New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s all-new contemporary romance stand-alone, DIRTY LETTERS


I’d never forgotten him—a man I’d yet to meet.

Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break.

Until one day it did.

Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one—one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing.

Griffin forgave me, and somehow we were able to rekindle our childhood connection. Only now we were adults, and that connection had grown to a spark. Our letters quickly went from fun to flirty to downright dirty, revealing our wildest fantasies. So it only made sense that we would take our relationship to the next level and see each other in person.

Only Griff didn’t want to meet. He asked that I trust him and said it was for the best. But I wanted more—more Griff, in the flesh—so I took a big chance and went looking for him. People have done crazier things for love.

But what I found could change everything.

Download your ebook copy, paperback, Audible or CD today!
Ebook available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon eBook: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Amazon Paperback: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Amazon Audio CD: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Add to Goodreads

Narrated by Andi Arndt & Jacob Morgan

Audible: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Reviewed by Sharon Thérèse at KFF

When Ward and Keeland get together, I don’t even have to read the blurb because I know their dual-penmanship is going to get more than a laugh out of me. Seriously, this read stirs all the feels and has everything I look for in a romance. It’s different, refreshing and super entertaining. But saying that, the storyline has an incredibly sensitive touch to it, making me root full out for the heroine.

‘Stopping our communication was probably one of my biggest regrets in life.’

What the heck do you do when crowds make you come undone? It’s not an easy feat for Luca to handle her anxiety. She wants to. She just doesn’t know how to go about it. In steps her eccentric but adorable shrink and bestie who will make you giggle, listen to his solid advice and bowl you over with his hobby. Less said about this the better since you’ll find out that birds of the feather haven’t got as much to do with the plot…or do they! Okay, what is it about these two authors obsession with animals! They introduced us to the fainting goat in Cocky Bastard. Here, ladies, we have a PIG! An adorable squeaky, oink-oink creature which if you’re that way inclined, will make you want one, or at the very least, give it a hearty cuddle!

‘In my next life, I want to come back as a pig and be adopted by you. Is that weird?’

With made-up names, penpal letters had been the only way they’d communicated as youngsters. They’d become close friends and figuratively speaking, held each other’s hand in times of need. Suddenly, there was no news but then years later, a letter is received out of the blue. One conveys their grudge on paper without knowing the whys and wherefores of the other’s years of silence. Nonetheless, interests are piqued.

‘My mum used to say I hold grudges. But I prefer to think of it as I remember the facts. And the fact of the matter is, you suck.’

These two wasted no time getting to know their adult likes and dislikes. The Furbies…remember them? Once you find out what Luca told Griffin, I can see you all shopping online ‘cause they worked a steamy dream for her! Now then, I’m not really into reading so many subparagraphs but they are so enthralling that I couldn’t wait for either of them to receive each other’s reply. Naughty isn’t in it. Just wait until these two get together!

“Anyone I have to murder?”
“Not unless it’s a Furby.”

Griffin is to me like white chocolate. Not at all bitter and when its creamy flavour melts in your mouth, all those tastebud sensations rage for more. That is he! Nope, I’m trying not to swoon but honestly, he’s learning how to get to know this gal and being awfully considerate to boot. So how can a long-distance relationship work for them with so many handicaps? For sure, if it weren’t for the constant flow of letters and texts between these two, the whole story would have fallen flat.

“Just because something is easy doesn’t make it better. We have our issues. But being with you still feels better than anything in the world…”

Flirtatious banter is something Vi and Penelope have always given their readers. I also loved the music references and although Luca is happy for Griffin’s success, it’s short-lived because the mere fact is she knows if she can’t overcome a past happening, she’ll never fit into his world. She has the means, so why it’s such a struggle kinda caught me off balance. That being said, I have no personal reference to compare her fear factor with. You’ll have to read the book to see if she’s capable of grabbing the bull by the horns and doing something about it.

“We’re just so different, Griff. You’re a round hole, and I’m a square peg. We don’t fit.”

Low on angst but great one-liners, character development and a plot with a difference make for a worthy read. Bravo ladies!

EXCERPT

© 2019 Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
All rights reserved.

The small dining room table had a pile of mail. I’d had Dad’s mail forwarded to my house, so mostly it was just catalogues and junk. Once a month, Mrs. Cascio sent me everything that arrived, even though I’d told her it wasn’t necessary. I mindlessly fingered through the pile, not expecting to see anything worth keeping. But I stopped at an envelope addressed to me—well, not me, but Luca Ryan. That was a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. In second grade, my teacher, Mrs. Ryan, started a pen pal writing program with a small town in England. We weren’t allowed to use our real last names for safety reasons, so the entire class used her last name—hence I was Luca Ryan. I checked out the return address for the sender’s name.

  1. Quinn

Wow, really? It couldn’t be.

I squinted at the postmark. It was from a PO box in California, not England, but I didn’t know any other Quinn other than Griffin. And the handwriting did look pretty familiar. But it had been close to eight years since we’d exchanged letters. Why would he write now? Curious, I ripped it open and scanned right to the bottom of the letter for the name. Sure enough, it was from Griffin. I started at the beginning.

Dear Luca,

 Do you like scotch? I remember you said you didn’t like the taste of beer. But we never did get around to comparing our taste in hard liquor. Why is that, you might ask? Let me remind you—because you stopped answering my letters eight damn years ago. I wanted to let you know, I’m still pissed off about that. My mum used to say I hold grudges. But I prefer to think of it as I remember the facts. And the fact of the matter is, you suck. There, I’ve said it. I’ve been holding that shit in for a long time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not obsessive or anything. I don’t sit in my house thinking about you all day long. In fact, there have been months that go by when thoughts of you don’t even enter my brain. But then some random thing will pop into my head out of the blue. Like I’ll see some kid in a pram eating black licorice, and I’ll think of you. Side note—I’ve tried it again as an adult, and I still think it tastes like the bottom of my shoe, so perhaps it’s that you just have no taste. You probably don’t even like scotch. Anyway, I’m sure this letter won’t find its way to you. Or if by some miracle it does, you won’t answer. But if you’re reading this, you should know two things.

  1. The Macallan 1926 is worth the extra cash. Goes down smooth.
  2. You SUCK.

 Later, traitor, Griffin

 What in the hell?

I’d never forgotten him—a man I’d yet to meet.

Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break.

Until one day it did.

Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one—one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing.

Griffin forgave me, and somehow we were able to rekindle our childhood connection. Only now we were adults, and that connection had grown to a spark. Our letters quickly went from fun to flirty to downright dirty, revealing our wildest fantasies. So it only made sense that we would take our relationship to the next level and see each other in person.

Only Griff didn’t want to meet. He asked that I trust him and said it was for the best. But I wanted more—more Griff, in the flesh—so I took a big chance and went looking for him. People have done crazier things for love.

But what I found could change everything.


Meet Penelope

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over two million books sold, she is a twenty-one time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

Sign up for Penelope’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when her new releases go live ➜ HERE

Follow Penelope

Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Website

Twitter @penelopewardauthor | Instagram

 Goodreads | BookBub | Gmail


91FFBs19XQL._UX250_MEET VI

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Sign up for Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when her new releases go live ➜ HERE

Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!

Follow Vi

Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook

Twitter  @vikeeland | Instagram  @Vi_Keeland

Goodreads | BookBub


other books by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Park Avenue Play

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS 

Amazon Print: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Hate Notes

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

THE RUSH SERIES (2 BOOK SERIES)

Rebel Heir

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

Rebel Heart

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Dear Bridget, I Want You

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Cocky Bastard

Amazon | iTunes  | Kobo | B&N

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Stuck-Up Suit

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

Also available on Audible and Paperback

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Playboy Pilot

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Paperback

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Mister Moneybags

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo 

Other books by Penelope

The Day He Came Back

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo 

Amazon Paperback: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

When August Ends

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS 

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo | Google Play 

Amazon Print  | Audio

KFF’S  4.5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Love Online

Amazon eBook: U.K | U.S | CANADA | AUSTRALIA 

Amazon Paperback 

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon Audio | Audible

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Gentleman Nine

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Drunk Dial

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Mack Daddy

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Room Hate

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo 

KFF’S  4 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Stepbrother Dearest

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Neighbor Dearest

Amazon: US | UK | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | NookKobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Sins of Sevin

Amazon: US | UK

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Jake Undone (Jake #1)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Jake Understood (Jake #2)

Amazon | B&N | iBooksKobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Gemini

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

My Sylar

Amazon | B&N |  iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

OTHER BOOKS BY VI:

All Grown Up

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Apple Books | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon print | Audio

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

We shouldn’t!

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CAN | AUS

Amazon Paperback | Audio

AppleBooks  | Nook | Google Play

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Naked Truth

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

Amazon print | Audio

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Sex, Not Love

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

KFF’s  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Beautiful Mistake

Amazon: U.K | U.S | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google Play

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

EGOmaniac

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google Play

Audio

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Bossman

Amazon: US UK 

iBooks | B&N | Kobo 

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Baller

Amazon: US | UK 

iBooks | B&N | Kobo 

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

Beat

Amazon: US | UK

iBooks | Kobo | B&N

KFF’s 5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Throb

Amazon: US | UK

B&N | iBooks | Kobo

KFF’S  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)

Amazon | B&N | Kobo Smashwords | iBooks

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

Amazon: US  | UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

Amazon: US | UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

* ~* ~* ~* ~*

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel) by Vi Keeland & Dylan Scott

Amazon: US | UK

KFF’S  5 ★ Review ➜ HERE

 

COVER REVEAL ~ INSATIABLE by Melanie Harlow

Insatiable - CR banner

After all those years of being just friends, suddenly we’re insatiable.

Insatiable, an all-new irresistible friends-to-lovers romance from USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow is coming November 28th and we have the gorgeous cover for you!

Insatiable AMAZON

I didn’t mean to see him naked–it was an accident.

It had to be, right?

Because Noah McCormick and I have never been anything more than friends. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never once laid a finger on me. And even though he was a cute lifeguard at 16 and a hotter-than-hell sheriff’s deputy at 34, he’s always been that protective guy I could trust to keep his hands to himself. I never wanted to mess with that.

Until I walked in on him getting out of the shower and saw his hard, muscular body totally bare and dripping wet. At that moment I never wanted to mess with anything so badly in my entire life.

I should have covered my eyes. Said I was sorry. At the very least, I could have handed him a towel.

After all, I was only in town for a few days, and he was just doing me a favor by escorting me to my sister’s wedding. It wasn’t a real date.

But I didn’t apologize. And he didn’t cover up.

(Talk about a hot mess.)

After all those years of being just friends, suddenly we’re insatiable.

He’s made it clear he’s not interested in romance. Which is fine with me because

I’ve got a plane ticket back to my real life at the end of the week.

It’s all in fun…or is it?

Insatiable - PO

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Cover Designer By Hang Le

Photographer: Regina Wamba

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Harlow Headshot ColorMEET MELANIE

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, Succession, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the ONE & ONLY series, the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

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GYPSY KING by Devney Perry is LIVE!

Today we are thrilled to be sharing the first book in USA Today bestselling author Devney Perry’s all-new Tin Gypsy Series,
GYPSY KING


The former Tin Gypsy motorcycle club has everyone in Clifton Forge, Montana convinced they’ve locked their clubhouse doors and ripped off their patches. Everyone but Bryce Ryan. There’s more happening at the club’s garage than muscle car restorations and Harley rebuilds. Her instincts are screaming there’s a story—one she’s going to tell.

As the new owner of the small town’s newspaper, Bryce is hungry for more than birth announcements and obituaries. When a woman is brutally killed and all signs point to the Tin Gypsies, Bryce is determined to expose the club and their leader, Kingston “Dash” Slater, as murderers.

Bryce bests Dash match after match, disappointed her rugged and handsome opponent turns out to be an underwhelming adversary. Secrets are exposed. Truths defeat lies. Bryce is poised to win this battle in a landslide.

Then Dash breaks all the rules and tips the scales.

One kiss, and she’s fighting to save more than just her story. She’s fighting to save her heart from the Gypsy King.

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Reviewed by Sharon Thérèse at KFF

Perry has veered away from contemporary romance and given us the first book in her all-new suspense duet, Tin Gypsy. I certainly wanted to know what the real reason behind the head of the motorcycle club shutting down such a lucrative albeit illegal business years back was. Saying that, I found the story a tad slow to begin with and that gritty bite I look for in this kind of read felt absent. Nonetheless, I gave the story a chance and it paid off.

An unknown enemy goes out of their way to make it look like an ex-member of the club committed a crime and Bryce, the new small town’s ambitious journalist wants to get to the bottom of it. I love a spine-tingling thriller with a good dash of romance, so when the intrigue and steaminess picked up, I was in my element. There’s plenty of twists and turns and untold truths to keep the reader aroused, too. Especially the outcome of a past happening which won’t go down at all well with Dash, surprises the socks off his father and complicates matters no end.

It took me a while to connect to Bryce. She gave me the impression that reporting the scoop for her dad’s newspaper and making a name for herself was more important than people’s feelings. Her not being intimidated by Dash’s threats earned my respect though and later on, them coming to an agreement of sorts seemed to me to be the most sensible they could have done. Had to smile. Neither of them is quite sure how to handle their instant attraction. In fact, he quite likes the fact that this spunky woman stands up for herself.

For me, Dash was lacking what Bryce had. In its day, the club was well-known for its shady goings-on, the members to be reckoned with. I think age had mellowed then somewhat and it’s clear to see their all happy in the workshop renovating Harleys. Their bad biker image does kick in when things heat up and Dash responded exactly how I’d hoped he would.

The back and forth of Dash and Bryce’s sexual innuendos and banter added a playful touch and was really well conveyed. I liked that they were on the same page and even though a couple of big-little bombshells were dropped, there are still a lot of unanswered questions waiting to be answered. Parts of the story I found a little drawn out, but that didn’t stop me enjoying Gypsy King and looking forward to the conclusion in Raven Knight coming soon.


Devney is a USA Today bestselling author. Born and raised in Montana, she loves writing books set in her treasured home state. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her husband and two sons. Writing one book, let alone many, was not something she ever expected to do. But now that she’s discovered her true passion for writing romance, she has no plans to ever stop. Devney loves hearing from readers! Connect with her on social media.

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BLOG TOUR ~ BEFORE YOU by Marni Mann

Today we are delighted to be on tour with USA Today bestselling author Marni Mann’s all-new contemporary romance stand-alone, BEFORE YOU,
a novel which took our breath away!

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It was supposed to be a typical work trip. New York to San Francisco, window seat, exit row. Maybe a mimosa.

Then, seat 14B sat down. When our eyes met, the flight became anything but routine.

I could pinpoint the moments in my life where everything changed forever.

Meeting Jared on that flight was first.

Falling in love with him was second.

Discovering the secrets he kept was third.

Putting my broken self back together and forgetting what I learned would be difficult. Forgiving Jared would be impossible.

He said, before me, nothing mattered. But after him, nothing would ever be the same.

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Reviewed by Sharon Thérèse at KFF

Goodness me, what a gripping story. This is the first novel I’ve read by Mann and I have to say that the originality of the plot is nothing less than impressive. The writing technique is an interesting one and extremely well done. Even though Before You is narrated from a dual perspective in first-person, the third-person point of view in chapter breaks never confused me. It actually felt like I was reading a book inside a book, one flowing before the other which simply added to the angst. Why then did the author choose this style? I think by doing this, her modus operandi was to keep her readers guessing. If this was the case, its effectiveness worked to a tee. So, when both met in the middle and oh boy, the wait was excruciating, the outcome literally knocked me for six. I can honestly say I had no idea what was around the corner and that for me deserves praise. The cover and title couldn’t have been more fitting either…and you’ll see why. A book buddy of mine who’s a diehard fan of this author asked me what I thought of the story and as I didn’t want to let on, all I said was the cover holds the key.

“Where did you come from, Jared ?”

The curveball thrown into the story would cause a domino effect, reaching its climax at the very end! But before getting there, the reader is taken on a poignant journey overflowing with every imaginable emotion. A vivid description of what takes place isn’t for the faint-hearted. And it was of no surprise to me that it took Billie so long to get over. But through all the post-shock and trauma she has to bear, the mysterious Jared is there for her. The big question is why he singled her out when other people had been affected. Billie has a sweet soul. In her mid-20s, her vlogger business is booming, her love for cooking is shared with the world and demand for her opinion of the best chef’s delicacies keeps her busy. But things change and all Jared wants is for her to get back on her feet. But is this the only reason for his interest in her? You will see!

“Remember, Billie … go back to your life. I promise, it’ll help.”

I’m a glutton for the age-gap romance subgenre and Jared was everything I’d hoped for and more. Debonaire, considerate and gorgeous, him holding back on Billie I found perplexing in the sense that he wanted Billie more than any another woman he’d set eyes on, but couldn’t have her. Or could he? I never thought he was deceitful, it was just a matter of him just trying to do the right thing which seemed impossible. He’d been hurting for too long and knew that when the bomb eventually dropped, the woman he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with would be devastated. Gosh, when it all came out, I was crushed! It’s all tied up in the title; however, you’ve got to work out whose life it was before. His, hers or both.

‘Billie Paige was exactly what I wanted in a woman—intelligent, independent, and gorgeous. She just wasn’t a woman I could be with.’

Now for the other story! Andrew and Honey are the perfect couple who’d had their ups and downs but always looked for a solution together. Their love was so profound, their life so beautiful, it felt as if they were sharing their most personal thoughts with me. That being said, a happening made me incredibly sad. Yeah, it’s not a bad idea to have a stash of tissues nearby ‘cause if you’re like me and love a good cry, you’ll need them.

“You never have to worry. That’s why I’m here.”

Seeing as I love being in the kitchen, the food references were a welcome reprieve, easing the feeling of hopelessness that I had most of the time. And of course, Billie and Jared’s chemistry was also a pleasant distraction.

“You were looking at me like you were about to devour me … the same way you’re staring at me right now.”

Overcoming grief, learning how to forgive and faith in love are the ingredients Mann has used to make Before You such a magnificent read. Her fluid writing is phenomenal, her characters beyond exquisite and the dialogue is perfectly realistic. This is one story I will never forget. Bravo!


© 2019 Marni Mann
All rights reserved.

 
“Are you willing and able to help in the event of an emergency situation?” the flight attendant asked as she stood beside our row. She had appeared directly after the announcement that informed us that all of the passengers were now on board the plane to San Francisco and the pilots were doing their final preparations before Flight 88 pulled away from the gate.
“Yes,” I answered, and I should have gone back to the article on the housing market in lower Manhattan that I’d started when I was waiting to board. Instead, my eyes were on her.
The girl in seat 14A.
She had dark hair that went well past her shoulders, a patch of freckles under each of her eyes, and lips that were pouty and full. She wasn’t beautiful. She was exquisite.
And she had no idea at all.
In the forty-seven years I’d been alive, I’d learned something about women. There were those you couldn’t help but look at and those you just shouldn’t look at.
She was both.
That was rare.
“Yes,” she replied to the flight attendant, and then she looked at me.
Before all of the interruptions, she had asked why I was going to California. I finally answered, “Some work, some pleasure. And yourself?”
“Same.” Her eyelids narrowed. “Are you from Manhattan? I don’t detect an accent.”
I felt the paper in my hands and knew there was no way I could go back to it. Not yet at least, not with her fiery green gaze on me.
“When you’ve lived in New York for as long as I have, you tell people you’re from there. It’s easier.”
She laughed, and it caused me to keep staring at her. “I’ve been here a while, too, and I agree. Once New York becomes home, you seem to forget everywhere else you’ve lived.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Why is that?”
When I’d asked my assistant to book this flight, I hadn’t considered flying commercial would put me in a position for conversation, like the one she’d just started. I hadn’t thought much about the actual flight at all besides knowing I had to be on it.
But now that I was here, I had no idea what the fuck I was thinking.
I really shouldn’t be going to San Francisco at all.
I looked away from her to glance up ahead. The main door was closed, telling me it was too late to get off the plane. The only thing I could do at this point was get some air.
I excused myself, halfway to my feet, knowing we were minutes from leaving the gate and supposed to be in our seats, and I went down the aisle. “I’ll be quick,” I said to one of the flight attendants as she approached me, and I continued to the lavatory.
When I got inside, I locked the door behind me, guessing I had about thirty seconds before I heard a knock.
If I were in any other restroom, I would have washed my face, but I wasn’t going to do that with the water from a plane. What I needed from this tight, crammed space was to catch my breath.
Because all of it had been sucked out of me, and there wasn’t any air to be found in row fourteen.
 

 

Meet Marni

Best-selling Author Marni Mann knew she was going to be a writer since middle school. While other girls her age were daydreaming about teenage pop stars, Mann was fantasizing about penning her first novel. She crafts sexy, titillating stories that weave together her love of darkness, mystery, passion, and human emotion. A New Englander at heart, she now lives in Sarasota, Florida with her husband and their two dogs who subsequently have been characters in her books. When she’s not nose deep in her laptop working on her next novel, she’s scouring for chocolate, sipping wine, traveling to new locations, and devouring fabulous books.

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