Monday, July 17, 2017

Release Day Blitz: Dead & Buried by Jennifer Rebecca

Today we have the release day blitz for Dead & Buried by Jennifer Rebecca! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today:

Title: Dead & Buried

Author: Rebecca Jennifer

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Dead & Buried:

You ever hear the phrase, about as successful as a soup sandwich? Well, that's me, I’m the soup sandwich, but instead of a soggy mess, you have a twenty five year old with a Bachelor’s degree in nothing useful who just quit her job at the local home improvement store where there were definitely no tortured billionaires looking to tie anyone up--and that's not a bad thing. I know, it's looking pretty sad right about now, but at least I don't still live with my parents…   So, here I am, embarking on a new journey covering the Funerals and Obituaries section of the local paper, the San Diego Metro News, for the editor--brace yourself--my uncle, Sal. Unfortunately, while my parents are on vacation, my Granny and her friends are determined to stir up some trouble--but this time, they may have bitten off more than they can chew--especially when some of the residents of the local retirement community are turning up unnaturally dead.   There is nothing that will keep me from protecting the people that I love, no matter how crazy they may be--not even the sexy, I mean stubborn, homicide detective, Trent Foyle, can stop me.   My name is Shelby Whitmore and I'm kind of the newest reporter for the San Diego Metro News, but hey, I'm a hit with the blue hairs.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in an R. Kelly song? Because I’m definitely feeling like I’m living one. You could almost say I’m trapped in one. But not the toot toot, beep beep fun of “Ignition” or the motivational “I Believe I Can Fly”-- I’m talking “Trapped in the Closet.” All seventy-five parts. Because, you know, I am actually trapped in a closet. A utility closet to be specific. I have no idea what happened. One minute, I’m walking up the stairs of the building my granny lives in, Peaceful Sunset Retirement Village, singing, ironically, “Ignition.” I had just gotten to the good part, you know, the “hot and fresh out the kitchen” part—it’s the part where I like to mime driving a car, the part after the toots when I pull down my arm like I’m honking the horn on a big rig. I’m right in the middle of my song and dance repertoire—when all of a sudden, I hear one of the doors to the stairwell open and close, which is normal since the nurses and caregivers use these halls to get around faster and not clog up the elevators that the seniors use. The next thing I know, something hits me over the head, and it’s lights out. I never even saw the guy. Or gal. Who am I to discriminate? Anyhoo, fast forward, however long that might be, and I find myself awake, with a killer headache. A headache a lot like the one I got when I fell out of my friend’s parents’ camper in the second grade. My friend who was also named Shelby. Weird, right? Anyway, we were playing after school at her house, and her mom found nothing wrong with our playing in one of those VW vans that were small campers with the part that pops up out of the roof for you to sleep in. So there we were, playing with our Super Spy Barbies in the pop-up part, when she jumped down to get a clothing change for her doll. Shelby B., as our teachers in school called her to distinguish between us, was a lot bigger than me. I was the runt of the litter back then. When she went to pull herself back up, dress included, she grabbed the board I was sitting on, and I wasn’t big enough to hold the board down, so Other Shelby pulled me and the board down on top of her. We landed in order: board, then me, then the dolls and their accoutrements. After that, I bounced off of her and out the open sliding door onto the sidewalk, face first. Next thing I knew, I was coming to, and her mom was running down the driveway with the phone to her ear. A couple of minutes later, my mom and dad pulled up in my mom’s old Jeep Cherokee, followed by a fire truck and an ambulance. As it turned out, I had one hell of a concussion, which we found out while my dad was hanging out with all of the firemen and paramedics that he knew because they all played basketball together at the gym. I spent the night in the emergency room and the next week with the mother of all headaches, which is how I feel right now as I struggle to open my eyes and make them focus. I look around and everything is blurry. I blink my eyes a couple of times to clear my vision. It helps a little. I take stock of what’s around me—there are mops and brooms, shelves of lightbulbs and other various paraphernalia, cleaning supplies—when it dawns on me where I am, which is how I find myself trapped in a utility closet, à la R. Kelly. I’m sitting on the floor on my butt with my back against some more shelves. My legs are straight out in front of me, and my ankles are tied together with a zip tie. Yippee! I groan out loud when I realize my hands are bound the same way behind my back. I could lie down and wait for a psycho to come back and finish me off, but that’s not how my daddy raised me. And if I did die because I was being a big baby, Granny would bring me back to life just to whoop my butt and kill me again. I wiggle around, trying to find anything I can break these zip ties on. I notice the door has hinges that look like little hooks, and I scoot over to try to hook the tie on my ankles to it. I wiggle and kick my legs and wiggle some more, all pretty thankful I keep my biweekly yoga date with my grandmother and her friends. I hook the zip tie on the bottom door hinge and kick my feet by bending and straightening my knees. “Come on, come on,” I chant under my breath as I rub the plastic against the sharp side of the door hinge. “Yes!” I shout as the tie breaks. I swing to my knees and push up to my feet. My legs shake. Impressive considering there’s a polka band playing in my head and I kind of want to puke. I lean my right shoulder against the shelves and squeeze my eyes tight, hoping to stop the room from spinning before I can find something to undo the tie at my wrists. My eyes pop open at the sudden quiet rattle of the door. I have to squint against the intrusion of the bright light that is immediately switched on. When I open them again, I am face-to-face with the vibrant jade eyes of one sexy Detective Trenton Foyle, San Diego PD. “Jesus, Shelby, you scared the shit out of me!” he booms. I just roll my eyes, which I instantly regret, slamming them shut again. “What?” I ask innocently. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he asks. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” I say coyly. “You just have to stir up trouble, don’t you?” he asks, shaking his head. I don’t care to answer, so I don’t. It’s not like I find myself trapped in a closet every day. Who am I kidding? I may not find trouble, but trouble always has a way of finding me. I’d like to say this is the last time, but why lie? My name is Shelby Whitmore, and I’m sort of a reporter for the San Diego Metro News and most definitely trapped in a closet.

About the Author:

Jennifer is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay.   Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta.   10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.

www.JenniferRebeccaAuthor.com

JenniferRebeccaAuthor@gmail.com

facebook.com/JenniferRebeccaAuthor

Twitter: @JenniRLreads

Instagram: @JenniRLreads

Enter Jennifer’s Giveaway:

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Friday, July 14, 2017

THE VIKINGS CHOSEN by Quinn Loftis



Clean Teen Publishing is proud to present the official cover reveal for THE VIKINGS CHOSEN by USA Today best-selling author Quinn Loftis.
Torben, a Viking general, is prophesized to take a foreign bride—and not just any—but a seer and healer like his mother. Allete Auvray of England is said to be just such a woman. Too bad his orders are to pillage her kingdom, and that she's already pledged to marry the king of Tara. Two worlds collide in this epic historical fiction centered on a chemistry that smolders against all odds.
THE VIKINGS CHOSEN will hit shelves on February 12, 2018. Add THE VIKINGS CHOSEN to your Goodreads List here.

Young Adult Viking Romance
Available 2/12/18
His orders are clear: launch a raid against England and bring home the spoils of war. But the prophecy is also clear: General Torben will take a foreign bride—one who is a seer and healer just like his mother. The eldest princess of England is said to be just that…a beautiful, charming, and headstrong woman. But he's a Viking army general and she's an English princess—and one who is already promised to the king of Tara.
Two worlds collide in this epic historical fiction centered on an undeniable chemistry that smolders against the odds. Richly written and injected with moments of humor, this action-packed romantic tale will leave you breathless.
Quinn Loftis is the author of twenty novels, including the USA Today Bestseller Fate and Fury.
Like the cover? Leave us a comment. :)

ABOUT QUINN LOFTIS:


Quinn is an award winning author who lives in beautiful Western Arkansas with her husband, three sons, Nora the Doberman, and Phoebe the Cat (who thinks she's a ninja in disguise). She is the author of eighteen novels, including the USA Today bestseller, Fate and Fury. Quinn is beyond thankful that she has been blessed to be able to write full time and hopes the readers know how much all of their support means to her. Some of her hobbies include reading, exercising, crochet, and spending time with family and friends. She gives all credit of her success to God because he gave her the creative spirit and vivid imagination it takes to write.
Don't forget to add THE VIKINGS CHOSEN to Goodreads!

Friday, July 7, 2017

Blog Tours: STEAL by Rache Van Dyken

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Steal, an all-new sexy standalone from #1 New York Times Bestseller Rachel Van Dyken is available now!!

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Steal by Rachel Van Dyken

Release Date: July 3rd

Genre: Contemporary Romance


Steal, the follow-up standalone rockstar romance to the #1 NYT Bestseller Keep…
It's easy to lose yourself in someone you love.
Easier to lose yourself in someone you hate…
I didn't think it could get any worse than having to babysit a bunch of spoiled musicians on set — keeping them out of trouble is a cakewalk compared to seeing my ex every day.
Seaside, Oregon isn't big enough for the both of us.
She hates me.
I loathe her.
The plan was simple — stay the hell away and make sure she gets to set on time.
What I didn't expect was to be faced with our past in front of an audience — and be forced to face it again.
It's torture.
The way she looks at me.
The way I try to look through her.
Words left unsaid.
The lingering aftermath still as powerful as ever.
I feed the chasm between us, for fear that she'll make me feel again — and steal the last shred of heart I have left.
We have everything but each other.
It's not enough.
Not when you've lost love.
And replaced it with the only thing left — hate.


Review:
As usual this woman sent me on an emotional journey and robbed me of sleep but I'm not complaining because her writing also has the power to pull me out of any reading slump! Though most of the book had me on the brink of tears,it also had comic relief from our favorite meddling Seaside characters that always know how to have fun and make you laugh even in the mist of heartache and they are loving,forgiving and acceptable of their friends and almost always ready to give second chances since they themselves have fallen and rose from the ashes to be given a second chance.I absolutely loved Angelica and Will's story! Two broken people who both think they are to blamed for ruining each other's lives and the lives of their friends but one night's events cause them so much heartache that they blocked out what they could just to be able to cope with live without each other only to realize things may not be what they thought.I feel like the song "When Hate and Love Collide" by Def Leppard is so appropriate here.
And I love every time Zane suggests calling his "mafia cousin" to take care of something, while his friends think he's joking,I'm secretly screaming in my head "Yes,please call Nixon!" *SIGH* Ok sorry temporary deter there,now back to our Seaside gang. This is one of my favorite stories of the year! It has so much depth to it that you can't help but get wrapped up in their story hoping against hope that they find a way back to each other.It's the best kind of read!

Excerpt:

I blinked up at the white ceiling, willing the tears to dry. Praying they wouldn’t slip free — because once they were loose there was no stopping the onslaught of emotion that would follow, the devastation, the earth-shattering realization that nothing would ever be the same between us. Not if he could help it — and not with me constantly pushing him.

But at least pushing him got me a reaction that proved he wasn’t a complete indifferent sociopath.

I refused to let him get to me.

With a sigh I turned onto my side and stared out the window imagining a different time a different place, where he was by my side — and promised to never leave.

That and the way his hands ran down my skin like he was getting ready to worship me the way he used to.

Only his face hadn’t been filled with wonder — disgust was more like it.

I clung to the anger like a blanket. It was the only way to sleep, the only way I was able to close my eyes and pray the sickness in my chest away.

Anger forced me to focus on doing my job and getting as far away from my past as possible.

Weakness would just make me sad.

It would make me that — weak;

And I knew where that road led.

It led me directly back to all the things that turned me down that road in the first place.

Not being good enough.

Pretty enough.

Funny enough.

Weakness led me to a false sense of strength.

And my number one weakness had always been Will Sutherland.

It was possible — to give so much of your heart and soul to a person that you lost who you were.

I became a different person with him — a person I thought I needed to be in order to compete in our world. A person our world told me I had no choice but to become in order to stay relevant.

I punched my pillow one last time and attempted to sleep.

Two hours later, when sleep still wouldn’t come, I padded my way into the kitchen and made coffee, then laid my head against the couch and thought about the way his lips felt on my ear.

Inches from my neck.

Breaths from my body.

I ached for him in ways I never knew existed.

And I relished in the ache just like I relished in the anger, because at least that meant it had happened, and at least that meant I knew he was a bad choice I wasn’t willing to make again.

A weakness that wouldn’t just hurt me.

But kill me.

Sometime around one in the morning when the clock on the microwave blinked at me with an intensity that started a pulsing headache to form — I stumbled over to the couch and face planted — the last thought in my head was of the Sutherland Sunset — and how it had once been my anchor until it turned into my hell.

What a joke.

What a cruel joke.

“You made coffee.” Will’s smooth voice interrupted what had been a completely dreamless sleep.

I didn’t have the energy to respond with anything other than a grunt.

“Still not a morning person,” he commented. His footsteps might as well be sledgehammers drilling into the wood floor.

“Why?” I croaked.

The walking stopped. Lights flicked on. I shivered and cursed him to Hell as he poked his head over the couch and had the audacity to smile. “Why what?”

My eyes narrowed. “Talking.”

“Why talking?” He took a sip out of the blue mug I’d been drinking out of earlier that morning; he must have reheated the coffee. “Still really eloquent in the morning I see.” Another annoying sip. The terrorist didn’t even offer me any! Just kept loudly sipping while staring at me with a stupid ass grin on his face like it was a joy to be awake at… wait, what time was it?

I jolted to a sitting position, my pounding headache still wasn’t gone, in fact it was worse, probably brought on by Will’s cheerful demeanor and loud walking. “What time is it?”

“You have twenty minutes until you’re expected on set.” His voice was calm behind me, warm. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine his body was about to wrap around me like a blanket, I’d tuck my feet under my body and rest my head on his shoulder, we’d share a cup of coffee like we used to and watch the news before work.

It took us one date to become inseparable.

Our trailers side by side.

Cohabitating.

Finishing sentences.

Eating off each other’s plates.

Sharing inside jokes.

Not to mention, Will had been my first.

I shivered as his footsteps moved away from me taking his body right along with them.

That was the past.

It needed to stay there.

With a sigh, I shot up to my feet and started making my way back to my room.

I only made it about one foot before Will started cursing.

Panicked, I froze and then turned around. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes narrowed over the rim of the blue cup, “I’m just trying to decide if you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Okay now I was getting annoyed. And the man wouldn’t stop slurping his coffee as though he didn’t know how to sip like a grown up!

He shrugged one of his shoulders. “Wearing no clothes.”

Steal_AN

Read Today!

Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/DESeiW

Meet the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

RachelVanDyken

Connect with the Author:

Rachel's Rockin' Readers: http://bit.ly/RachelsRockinReaders