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August 18, 2014

~Release Day Blitz~ Bittersweet Catastrophe by Maureen Mayer


Title: Bittersweet Catastrophe (Second Chances #2.5)
Author: Maureen Mayer
Genre: New Adult/Coming of Age
Release Date: August 18, 2014


For•ev•er (fɔːˈrɛvə; fə-): without end; everlasting; eternally



It might have taken twenty-two years to find Liberty, but now that Shayne has her, he’s not willing to let her go without a fight.

Shayne and Liberty finally found their forever, leaving Shayne’s past indiscretions behind and moving forward to start a life together. But what if forever wasn’t truly in the stars for them?

What should be one of the happiest times in their lives as newlyweds quickly turns into a race against time. Liberty must choose between accepting her fate and protecting her family, and taking a risk that could ultimately end in more heartache.

Liberty’s decision will test the strength of their trust, but is it enough to keep Shayne from breaking down altogether and losing the woman he loves


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Maureen Mayer was born, raised and currently resides in Buffalo, NY with her loving and supportive family and boyfriend of 9+ years. She’s always had a love for the outdoors, and when the city isn’t buried under snow, she can be found hiking, fishing, camping or lying on the beach. She’s a sucker for off-color humor, but holds a sweet spot for sick and twisted horror films. When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in bed with her kindle, diving into a steamy romance novel and falling in love with the latest book boyfriend.












~Release Day Blitz~ Undeniably You by Jewel E. Ann

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Title: Undeniably You
Author: Jewel E. Ann
Publication Date: August 18, 2014


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One crazy dog––one awkward vet––one naked pool guy––and one life-changing month in California to make friends, fall in love, and twist fate. Who gets paid to walk a dog and recline by the pool all day? Sydney Montgomery, aspiring museum curator and professional house-sitter, that’s who. When her aunt and uncle need a house and dog sitter for thirty days in Palo Alto, Sydney can’t turn down the chance to be closer to her sister in L.A. Within twenty-four hours of her arrival, Sydney’s cleaning up runny dog poo, taking an uncooperative pooch to a handsome yet awkward vet, and being rescued from the bottom of the pool by a naked “pool guy.” Lautner, “pool guy,” has a hot body and a cool persona. With eyes of iridescent blue oceans, he is mesmerizing, sexy, and addictive. What he is not––the pool guy. Dr. Lautner Sullivan is a college wide receiver turned pediatric resident. He knows how to woo a woman with flowers, pastries, and sweet tea. Lautner is every girl’s dream, but Sydney is not every girl. She’s immune to rainbows, fairytales, pixy dust, and the “L” word. The attraction is immediate, the friendship is earned, and the love is undeniable. Thirty days is their forever, but forever is not long enough.      





I pour a glass of iced tea and start to walk toward the deck. Then I turn around and pour another glass. “Hospitality is a good thing,” I tell myself, needing only to convince the rational part of my brain.
“Tea?” I offer, walking over to the pool. Aaron sets the skimmer net along the side of the pool. “Thank you.” The smirk on his face is suspicious and makes me feel like I’m missing some inside joke. He takes the glass from me and I move past him to get a closer look at the pool because I can’t look at him without his shirt and not break into a sweat. “What are you skimming?” “Nothing really. I’m stirring the water,” he says matter-of-factly. This guy is not for real. What does he mean by “stirring the water?” He’s up to something. It’s obvious why Aunt Elizabeth hired him. She must properly clean the pool after he leaves so Trevor doesn’t get suspicious and fire his ass … a very fine ass I will confess. “And why is it you need to stir the water?” I turn toward him and my eyes dart straight to his broad muscular chest and well-defined abs all kissed by the sun. Jeez, he’s too perfect and I’m … something. Distracted? Mentally lethargic? Crazy? Horny? BINGO! “So there’s an even consistency of chemicals when I test the water.” My mouth is agape and I cannot stop looking at him. He bends down to physically capture my attention. Shit! I show no shame staring at his bare chest. “Hello?” he says, forcing my eyes back to his. Shaking the inappropriate thoughts from my head, I take a quick sip of my drink to mask my embarrassment. “Do I need to put my shirt back on?” I choke on my tea. “No––” I can’t stop coughing. “I mean––” Clearing my throat, I notice his cocky smile. “Put your shirt on or leave it off. Why would I care?” God, Sydney, could you be a bigger disaster today? The flap of the dog door distracts me. Swarley leaps down the deck stairs. Aaron hunches down like a lineman in anticipation of his overzealous greeting. The problem is, as Swarley races closer I realize he’s not aiming for Aaron. He’s aiming for–– “Oh shit!” I’m catapulted backwards into the pool. My body makes its descent to the bottom while I open my eyes to see the blurry magnification of Mr. Sex on Legs pool guy standing at the edge looking down at me. I’m considering seeing how long I can hold my breath. Maybe he’ll decide to leave and I can surface from the depths of my own personal Hell without an audience. Yes! That’s it. I can do this. I still hold many records from my high school swimming career. Holding my breath until he leaves should be easy. Unless he decides to be heroic and jumps in to save me. Not a bad scenario either. Then at least we’ll both be drenched in our clothes. Like a leaky raft, I release my breath one bubble at a time and take a seat at the bottom of the pool. Ha! He’s emptying his pockets. Looks like I won’t be the only drowned rat. Wait. What the hell? No he’s not. Oh dear God, yes he is. Sex on legs dives into the pool, sans shorts and underwear! The two haunting notes from Jaws sound in my head while I scramble to the surface in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from him. The sweet relief of air filling my lungs is squashed by the anxiety of being chased by a naked stranger. “Oh my God! What are you doing?” A frantic yell breaks out with the remaining breath in my lungs while I swim toward the ladder, barely escaping him. I leap out of the pool with superhuman speed. Wrapping my arms around myself, I scramble to the pool house, my heart racing and my whole body shaking as I fumble for a towel. “The water feels great today.” His voice sounds behind me. I whip around and gasp, wide eyed. A wet, naked, sinful-as-a-hot-fudge-sundae body greets me a few feet away. Hands fisted, his arms are casually crossed at his wrists covering part of his junk in the front. The perfect cover to Sports Illustrated stands before me, and all I want to do is smack him across the face to wipe the stupid smirk off it. Then, of course, I want to jump him and rub every sensitive part of my body against his, because right now I’m so pissed and so turned on, I need to dive into the pool again before I self-combust. “Finish up and get out,” I mumble as I toss him a towel and stomp toward the house. On my way, I pass Swarley beached out in a lounge chair by the pool. “Evil demon dog!” I scowl at him.  


Want more? Take a peek at the epilogue and chapter 1 of Undeniably You!



   

About Jewel E. Ann
Jewel E Ann
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor. With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business. After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing. When she's not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.









   
Check out Jewel’s other books
Holding You series
Holding You (Holding You, #1)
Releasing Me (Holding You, #2)



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*Cover Reveal* Mason by Kemmie Michaels


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  SynopsisMason


For Mason, every smile is forced. Every joke represents effort. Bartending stands as a calculated decision to be a regular guy. In spite of his best efforts, life at such an easy pace is painful…because Mason was raised on a diet of crushing adrenaline and fierce, strategical thinking. His time in the Special Forces ended two years prior, but his drive and skill remained the strongest part of his being.
When his skills are needed again, Mason wakes up from a two-year haze and rescues the damsel. Mission accomplished. Victory had.
…Devastation returns.
Mason has no idea how to return to his everyday existence, not after flexing every strength he'd pushed aside. The simple truth is he can't. Balance, he decides, is the key: remain his joke-cracking self with his friends, and indulge in some ass-kicking on the side.
Together with Sofia 'Dig' DiGiacamo, Mason plans to eliminate every point of corruption they can uncover. A life of purpose fills him again, however, the pressure threatens to rip painfully apart as he tries to balance his opposing goals. The turmoil stirs memories of his dishonorable discharge, adding an explosive element to his existence.
Every day he fights corruption, every evening he fights himself. But still, Mason grits his teeth and grins. He's determined to keep his life, love, past, shame, desperate need, and suppressed anger all hidden behind his smiling, regular guy, bartender self. His fight remains an unending circle, and Mason battles on every front.



LEDGER - A Second Chance Novel - BOOK 1
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AuthorBioMason


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Mother of Two Boys...
My husband and I are blessed with two amazing young men. They are 9 and 11 right now, and both are on very different parts of the autism spectrum. I’ve learned so much by being their mom and feel pretty lucky to have become a part of a community of loving, understanding people.
If you’d like to meet my oldest son, just watch Big Bang Theory and shake hands with Sheldon. Those two are so similar, straight down to the fake laugh when they recognize something is funny.
My youngest cannot be explained. He’s more of an experience, and a joyful one at that.
Romance Novelist...
I’ve always loved to write. I’ve written for newspapers and magazines, also a host of personal projects. Then in December of 2012 I was reading on my first Kindle, gobbling up romances left and right. That’s when I fell in love with Ethan Blackstone, by the way.
Anyway, I was inspired to sit down and write. Less than one year later I’ve published three books, written another and its sequel novella, and started on two more. As of November of 2013, I’m more than 60k words into those two total. Since I’m sure I won’t update this bio for a long time, you’ll have to rely on my Facebook updates to know what’s going on with Kemmie Michaels romances. There are stalker links on my home page.


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*Cover Reveal* Do You Believe in Magic by Susan Squires

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TITLE – Do You Believe In Magic 
 SERIES – The Magic Series 
 AUTHOR – Susan Squires 
 GENRE – Contemporary 
PNR PUBLICATION DATE – April 7, 2012 



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Tristram Tremaine has never fit in with his large and boisterous family. They believe they carry a magic gene that comes alive only when they fall in love with another who carries that gene. After disappointing his parents one too many times, Tris, the bad-boy brother, hits the road on his cycle, drifting away from his destiny.
That is, until he meets Maggie O'Brian, a spit-fire rodeo rider with a strange ability to calm wild horses. Maggie lives on the road too, avoiding relationships. Her mother left her, the boy she loved left her, even her dog left her. The last thing she wants in a man is a tomcat with “love ‘em and leave ‘em” written all over him.
But the connection between Tris and Maggie is instantaneous. After a mysterious accident nearly kills Tris, he and Maggie must learn to believe in their destiny and each other to stay one step ahead of those who will do anything to prevent them from claiming it.





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The sickening crunch of metal was audible even over her Ford’s squealing brakes. Two objects flew almost over her hood in an arc of spokes and.… Oh, God. The other flying object had a helmet on. Her truck swerved as she struggled with control. The big rig’s engine roared to life and it barreled away into the night. The semi driver must have felt the impact. The smell of burning rubber and brake lining filled her nostrils. Her chest hit the steering wheel as her truck screeched to a stop. For a long minute she just sat there, trying to get her breath. Her sternum hurt. But it was kind of a vague feeling. The highway was empty. The semi was only fading red taillights in the distance. Her breath came fast and uneven. How had she not seen that truck? And why didn’t the driver stop to help? Help.… The guy on the motorcycle.… Nobody could have lived through that. Could they? What to do? No cell coverage out here. She craned around to check the highway. No lights in either direction. Oh, boy. She was going to have to get out and look for the rider. Hands shaking, she pulled her rig slowly off to the shoulder. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and got out of the cab into the cool air of the high desert night. She had to steady herself with a palm on the side of her Ford. Her knees were wobbly. She took a couple of panicky breaths. Get hold of yourself. You weren’t the one hit, for God’s sake. She leaned back into her truck and popped the glove compartment. The flashlight felt solid in her hand. She flipped it on and began walking back, swinging the beam. It wouldn’t be him. It couldn’t. Low moaning drifted up toward her. She swallowed. Moaning is good. At least the rider isn’t dead. She cast her light down the shallow embankment. It caught a twisted mass of black and silver metal. The cycle’s front wheel was canted at the wrong angle. It spun almost silently. She stalked ahead, determined to be angry at being put in this situation, not weak or timid. She really, really didn’t want to see what that lump was in the sagebrush just beyond the bike. The flashlight stuttered over leather, helmet, jeans, boots. Uh-oh. One leg had an odd angle in it. I won’t think about that. She breathed in and out through her mouth and stumbled over the edge of the asphalt, sliding down the sandy dirt. As she got closer, she quit fighting her instincts. It would be her beautiful biker guy. She knew it. She shone her light onto the figure. Did I have to be right? He blinked against the light, the green of his eyes startling. They were swimming right now. He raised one hand ineffectually to block—what? Her? Did he think she was the one who’d hit him and was coming to finish the job? One leg was clearly bent at an unnatural angle below the knee. Was that something white poking out of his jeans? Bad. Very, very bad. She battled her rising gorge. Damn it, Maggie! You’re strong. Anger helped. Damn the asshole driver of that big rig. And damn her motorcycle guy for being in this situation. His cheek was scraped. Blood dripped toward his jawline. Lip split, chin scraped too. “It’s Maggie,” she said stupidly. “That truck hit you.” Understatement of the year. “Truck?” Of course he’d hit his head with a fall like that. Probably just as well he didn’t remember. She pushed through sagebrush and knelt in the dirt. This close she could smell the rich, metallic scent of blood. “You … you need an ambulance. I’ll … I’ll.…” What? What could she do? “You, uh, you feel any pain in your back or your neck?” “Just …” His voice was a croak. He cleared his throat and started again. “Just the leg.” “Well, at least you can feel your extremities. Could be worse.” Better to make light of it. “Let’s get this helmet off.” She released the chinstrap and gently lifted the helmet. “That okay?” “Yeah,” he whispered. His eyes closed slowly and reopened, as if he couldn’t quite get it together to blink. She tossed the helmet behind her. “Look, I can go for an ambulance. I figure you’re only alone out here for a little over an hour. Maybe three hours total to get you to the ER. Or …” She almost couldn’t offer it. “If we can get you into the truck, I can take you. Maybe an hour and fifteen total to the ER at Washoe Med.” She shrugged helplessly. “Gee, what should I choose?” he said, lips tight. He seemed more aware now. “We could screw you up worse trying to get you into my truck.” Truth in advertising. “In ten minutes I’ll start to feel this,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna be alone. Call me chicken.” “I wouldn’t call you that.” He must know how painful getting to the truck would be. She looked up to the road. How the hell would she get him up the embankment? “Okay. How about I get my loading ramp? You roll on it and I drag you up the embankment?” “You got a horse in that trailer to pull it? I’m six-four, two twenty-five. Plus the ramp.” “You could push with your good leg,” she said doubtfully. He rolled his eyes to her. “You’re what, a hundred pounds?” “A hundred and ten, all muscle.” Well, a hundred and six. That rounded up to ten. “Get real.” In the baleful glare of the flashlight his pale, sweating face looked green. “I can hop if you can get me up.” That would hurt like hell. “Your funeral.” Not the best metaphor. “Let me get the truck.” She scrambled up the bank, trying not to think too far ahead, and ran for her truck, fumbled with the keys, and backed it up to where the cycle had gone over the edge. As she slid down the bank again she could see that he’d pushed himself up on one arm. His other arm hung limp from his shoulder. Not good. He hung his head. “Go away,” he rasped. Then he vomited into the dirt. She turned away lest her own stomach rebel in sympathy. Poor guy couldn’t even wipe his mouth with one arm out of action. She stripped off the flannel shirt she wore over her tee and knelt beside him. He turned his head away, but she cupped his cheek to pull him back around. The jolt that shot through her was like she’d touched a battery cable. Well, not quite. The charge was definitely sexual. What the hell was that? Slow down, girl. You’re kneeling in the dirt next to an injured guy who just lost it all over the desert. Not exactly sexy. She set her lips and wiped his mouth and then used the other sleeve to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead. “We’d best get to it,” he gasped. She surveyed the situation. Okay. Damaged shoulder was on the opposite side of the broken leg. Don’t think about how much this is going to hurt him.




Susan Squires grew up among the giant redwoods of California. She thought she was being practical by changing her major in college from theater to English literature. Immersed in a PhD. Program, she slowly realized that none of her graduating friends had work. So she dropped out after receiving a Master’s degree to take a paying job in the business world.
As an executive in a Fortune 500 company, she returned to her love of writing while continuing to hold her day-job, much to the amusement of her fellow executives. Her novel Danegeld, had already been purchased by Dorchester by the time she accepted a Golden Heart for Best Unpublished Paranormal Manuscript from Romance Writers of America. It was the first of an eclectic group of historical and contemporary paranormal stories known for their intensity. Body Electric was named by Publishers Weekly one of the ten most influential paperbacks of 2002, for blending romance and science-fiction. Book List compared No More Lies to the works of Robin Cook and Michael Crichton, but it was also a Rita finalist for Best Published Paranormal Romance by Romance Writers of America.
Susan’s Companion Series for St. Martin’s Press, continued to garner attention with admiring reviews and several visits to the New York Times Bestseller List. Publishers Weekly named One with the Shadows a Best Book of the Year, and several of the series received starred reviews. Her books have won the many regional contests for published works of paranormal romantic fiction.
Susan no longer has to use tales of romance and adventure to escape budgets and projects. She finally left her day job, and researches and writes her books at the beach in Southern California, supported by three Belgian Sheepdogs and a wonderful husband named Harry who writes occult mysteries as H.R. Knight.







 

Giveaway Prizes
2 Copies of Do You Believe In Magic with its New Cover
1 $10 Amazon Gift Card

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