Thursday, May 29, 2014

*Book Blitz* Take Care, Sara by Lindy Zart


Title: Take Care, Sara
Author: Lindy Zart   
Genre: Inspirational RomanceHosted by: Lady Amber's Tours

Synopsis:

You breathe in, you breathe out, and everything you know is gone.

Sara Walker knows firsthand what it feels like to have your reality ripped away, scrambled, and shoved back at you in an undone puzzle where pieces are missing and nothing fits. She's lost so much and is struggling to live and to find the strength to forgive herself for being human. With the help of Lincoln, her husband's brother, Sara realizes it's not about finding who she used to be, but about finding who she is now.

You breathe in, you breathe out, and everything you know isn't gone, but reborn.


Lindy Zart has been writing since she was a child. Luckily for readers, her writing has improved since then. She lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two sons, and one cat. Lindy loves hearing from people who enjoy her work.

Author Links: 

Buy Links:



“Remember the day on the river when we went tubing a few summers back?”
Sara shifted the gear from reverse to forward, eyes darting over cars and trucks in the immediate vicinity. “Yes. What about it?” She stalled at the stop sign, not wanting to go at the same time another vehicle intended to. A horn honked and she jumped, glancing in the rearview mirror at the large white truck behind her.
“I think it’s your turn to go,” he said dryly.
The truck crept forward. Lincoln laughed, which caused her face to burn, but Sara ignored him, concentrating on driving.
“Remember how Cole was determined to knock us off the tube?”
The sun was burning down on them. The inner tube bobbed up and down in the small waves made by other boats, splashing warm brown river water on her. Sara smelled seaweed and sand, the faint scent of fish in the air. She was on her stomach, one arm under Lincoln’s hard chest, the other pulled toward her with her and Lincoln’s arms crisscrossed over each other’s, both hands locked on the handles. Her lifejacket dug into her ribs, slightly raised over her shoulders from the way she was laying.
Water glistened down his face as he turned his head to grin at her, his gray eyes sparkling silver in the sunlight. “Ready?”
Sara glanced up at the white and green pontoon boat and saw Cole watching her with a certain gleam in his crystal blue eyes. His light brown hair was streaked with gold from the sun, his body tanned and toned from working outdoors on an almost daily basis. A slow smile curved his lips, turning her into a fiery ball of need. Her eyes stayed locked with his, promises communicated back and forth. He winked at her.
You know he’s going to try to dump us, don’t you?”
I told him not to.” She glanced at Lincoln, saw his eyes were on her.
He still will. You know that, right?”
She locked her jaw, nodding. “I do.”
Cole laughed, raising his bottle of water in a salute and turning to the seat behind the dashboard of the boat.
Wrap your leg around mine.”
She shot him a look.
The boat started, a low purr filling the air.
He rolled his eyes. “I know you’d like any excuse to touch me and I really shouldn’t encourage your behavior, but unless you want to take a bath in the not so clean Mississippi, you’ll wrap your leg around mine.”
The boat started to move, gaining speed as it went.
Sara.” Without thinking, she edged closer to Lincoln, his muscled leg twining around hers. “Hang on,” he shouted as the boat slammed forward, the tube gliding along the river after it.
“You can pull over now.”
She blinked. Trees and rolling hills loomed ahead. They were almost in the country. Sara shook her head. “No. I’m okay.”
“Sure?”
“Yes. Just tell me where to go.”
He didn’t speak for a time, and then said, “Okay.”
“Why’d you bring that up?”
“What?”
“The river. Tubing.”
“It was the first thing I could think of to take your mind off driving. Did it help?”
She nodded, taking a slow breath. “Yes.”
“Good. Turn left up here. The first house on the right. It’s blue. See it?”
“I see it.”
“And we’re here.”
She turned the key and the engine went silent. Her taut nerves were slightly relaxed, her breathing close to normal. She let her hands drop to her lap, staring at the red barn to the left of the house. A chicken darted past as she watched.
“Way to go, Sara Lynne.” He gently slugged her shoulder with his fist.
She turned to him. “Why that memory?”
He shrugged, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I told you—”
“He dumped us. He dumped us and then I hit the water and was sucked down. My lifejacket got stuck on a limb underwater. I couldn’t get it loose and I was fighting to undo the lifejacket. I even thought maybe I would die.” She was breathing fast, the words stumbling from her lips.
“Sara—”
“You found me. Somehow. You got the lifejacket off me and you pulled me from the water. The boat was coming back around. Your arms were locked around me tight. You had to be tired, but you never let me go. He was frantic, hauling me up first, hugging me, kissing me, telling me he was sorry. You got into the boat, you spun him around, and you punched him in the face. Spencer and Gracie were there, on the boat. Spencer had to pull you off him. You shouted things.” She suddenly stopped, a lump in her throat. She couldn’t say anymore.
“I told him he was an idiot.”
Other things. You said other things too. But all she said was, “Right.”
“Ready to work?”
“Lead the way, boss.” She followed him as he crossed the yard to get to the house, but her mind was still stuck on that day.
You knew she didn’t want to be dumped! What the fuck were you thinking? She could have drowned. Fucking idiot,” Lincoln snapped and turned away from his brother, incalculable rage flashing in his eyes, stiffening his jaw.
Sara watched him storm to the back of the boat, ignoring Gracie when she tried to talk to him. She’d never seen him so furious before—never. Lincoln’s red plaid swim trunks were stuck to his legs like another layer of skin, his broad back taut. She was stunned by his reaction. Looking at Cole, she knew he was too.
Cole turned to her, his features tight. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I was just having some fun. You’re okay?”
She wiped water from her face, nodding. The outdoor carpet of the boat prickled her soft flesh and she moved to stand. “I’m okay.”
He helped her up, wrapping his arms around her. “If anything had happened to you—”
It didn’t,” she broke in, eyes on Lincoln. He stared out at the endless water, profile carved from stone. He’d isolated himself from the rest of them, as though he didn’t want their taint of irresponsibility near him, or maybe just his brother’s.
Because of Lincoln.”
Something in his tone made her glance at him, the flatness of it maybe. “Are you mad that he saved me?” Incredulity made her voice higher than it usually was.
He scowled, dropping his arms from her. “No.”
Well, that’s good, because the alternative was drowning.”
The scowl deepened. “I know. It’s just…I’m supposed to save you, not him. I’m supposed to be there for you, not him.”
You were too busy having fun driving the boat and trying to dump us,” she snapped.
I know. I’m an ass.”
Her anger faded at the look on her husband’s face. It was full of self-recrimination.
And proud.”
He nodded somberly. “That too.”
She felt herself soften toward him, as she always did. He looked so young, so pitiful. “I still love you.”
Cole looked up, flashing a grin brighter than the sun. “Good to know.”
But if I was dead, I wouldn’t.”
I’d still love you even if I was dead,” he retorted, trailing a hand along her hip and causing her to shiver.
Okay, you two, it’s fun watching you almost make out and everything, but can we get going?” Spencer asked from where he lounged on the seat, Gracie beside him.
Cole moved to captain the boat and Sara walked toward Lincoln. The boat lurched forward as it accelerated and she grabbed the ledge to steady herself. She adjusted the yellow swim shorts as she neared him, tightening the straps of the turquoise bikini top. He didn’t look at her as she approached, his cool gaze trained ahead.
Thank you,” she said quietly, sitting in the seat next to him.
Lincoln glanced at her. “I was scared out of mind, when you went under and I couldn’t see you. I—”
“Earth to Sara.” She ran into Lincoln’s chest, his hands steadying her as he set her back. “Sleepwalking again?”
She shrugged, her face burning. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.That’s what he’d said. She hadn’t wanted to think about what it could have or could not have meant at the time. She wasn’t inclined to think about it that much now either. And yet…why had he brought up that day? Was he trying to tell her something without telling her something? Was she looking into it too much? Did he want her to remember what he’d said? Did Lincoln remember what he’d said?
“Why that day?” she pressed. An icy sharp wind started, tousling her hair around her face. Sara impatiently pushed it behind her ears, not letting him look away.
His neck convulsed as he swallowed. But he didn’t look away. Lincoln’s eyes were zeroed in on hers, looking at her in a way that made pressure form in her chest. “That was the day things changed for me.”
“Meaning?”
He finally looked away, tapping a pad of paper against his thigh. “Do you remember what I said to you, after it happened?”
She wasn’t prone to lying. She didn’t like being lied to and she didn’t like doing it to others. He was so intense, so still as he waited, like what she said mattered astronomically to him. Lie, Sara. For him. For you. Lie.
She opened her mouth.



Wednesday, May 28, 2014

~Cover Reveal~ Hot Blooded by Kendall Grey

If Robert Rodriquez (Sin City), Tony Soprano, and David Lynch (Twin Peaks) made sweet love to a Hawaiian version of The Bride (Uma Thurman’s character from Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill), the resulting spawn might look like Kendall Grey’s upcoming mystery/suspense/supernatural thriller, HOT-BLOODED.


The first installment in the Ohana series, HOT-BLOODED is set on the island of Maui and is wrapped in the light and dark watercolors of Hawaiian culture, history, and mythology. It’s about guns, drugs, surfing, and tiki monsters. HOT-BLOODED tells the tale of a ballsy, half-Hawaiian angel-turned-demon, the duplicitous assassin who falls for her, and the blessings and curses of family—all wrapped up in freaky, supernatural gift paper.


Here’s the description:



WARNING: HOT-BLOODED does NOT end with a happily ever after. It contains drug use and graphic sex, language, and violence. The story is intended to entertain, not to condone or glorify illegal or immoral activities. This book is unsuitable for sensitive readers and those under the age of 18.
*Written in 3rd person. Contains a massive cliffhanger and multiple POVs.


Ohana is everything…


When an accident claims her mother’s life, Keahilani Alana must take charge of her ohana (family) or risk losing what little they have. With an underage brother to care for and no education, she has few options. The door to a heavenly hellish opportunity opens when she stumbles upon a valuable secret her mother left behind on the slopes of an extinct volcano—a legacy that tempts the family with riches beyond their wildest dreams. But the secret is much bigger and more sinister than they realize. As reality unravels and exposes eerie truths about the ohana that should have remained deep under the mountain, Keahilani must either resist the call of her blood or risk being consumed by its darkness.


Blake Murphy is an assassin working to infiltrate a new Hawaiian cartel. His investigation reveals that Keahilani, the sexy surfing instructor he pegged as an informant, is much closer to the drug ring than he thought. Passion ignites between them in the bedroom, but their ironclad ties to opposing interests pit them against each other everywhere else.


When tensions reach the breaking point and her ohana is threatened, the only cure for Keahilani’s hot-blooded fury is a loaded clip with a body bag chaser.


They don’t call her Pele for nothing.


Here’s the cover, designed by Renee Coffey:




So, are you up for a steamy, violent descent into tropical-island madness with a supernatural twist? If so, you can add HOT-BLOODED to your Goodreads TBR here. The release date hasn’t been announced yet, but Kendall is shooting for the end of June or early July. Stay tuned!

You can stalk Kendall on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Amazon, or her web site.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

~Release Day Blitz~ Unforgiven by Cat Miller

Title: Unforgiven
Author: Cat Miller
Series: The Forbidden Bond Series (Book 2)
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Vampires
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Release Date: May 27 2014
Edition/Formats It Will Be Available In: Audio Book, eBook, Print
Blurb/Synopsis: 

 Things are about to heat up…

Brandi Vaughn wishes she could stand out. She’d do anything to get out from behind the shadow of her socialite family—which now includes Dani, her half-sister, recently discovered to be the most powerful vampire known to their kind.
But Brandi is more extraordinary than anyone realizes. The fiery young vamp has a secret elemental power—an inner flame that she must keep under control so as not to reveal herself to the dangerous rogue vampire targeting exceptional talents like hers. But when two desperate followers of the Rogue attempt to kidnap Dani during her wedding ceremony, Brandi lets loose with a pyrotechnic display that doesn’t go unnoticed…
As the vampire nation comes face-to-face with the threat of the Shade army, Brandi is caught in an emotional tug of war between the light and the dark. Torn between the affections of lovers from both factions, she will need to choose who to trust with her heart: a warrior or a rogue.



I was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland and now I live not far from my birth place in Perry Hall, Maryland. I have two teenage daughters and a man that keep me busy when I'm not working full-time as a Certified Medical Coder. I'm an avid reader and I love all genre of romantic fiction from historical to contemporary to paranormal. Sleeping has always been a problem for me so most nights I can be found in the living room reading or writing instead of in bed like the rest of the world. I don't watch television. It's not a conscious decision, it just never occurs to me to turn it on when I have books to read and writing to do. It can actually be a hazard, because I never know what the weather will be until I look outside and I have to rely on my kids and coworkers for local and world news. I love creating the characters you love and love to hate. My characters remind me of people I know and people I wish I had never known.

Author Links


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*Release Day Blitz & Giveaway* Forever Layla by Melissa Turner Lee


Title: Forever Layla
Author: Melissa Turner Lee          
Genre: NA Time Travel RomanceHosted by: Lady Amber's Tours

Book Description:What if the woman you envied most is the person you are destined to become?

In 1994, high school senior David Foster was the lackey and soundboard geek for his best friend's grunge band. During spring break, the band lands a dream gig playing at a motel in Myrtle Beach, SC. David expected all the girls to ogle the guys on stage, but when a beautiful blond "Bond Girl" approaches him and calls him by name, he's shocked to find out she knows more about him than a stranger should.

She even knows about his notebooks and his visions of time travel.

What she thought was a quick time-travel-sightseeing trip takes a surprising turn when she meets the young adult version of the man she'd heard stories about as a child. His fairy-tale romance with the woman he'd loved, Layla, inspired her to accept nothing less than a love just as strong...but hopefully not as tragic. When she won't tell the younger version of him her name, he calls her Layla--and the world as she knows it changes forever.


Melissa Turner Lee holds a BA in Communications with a concentration in Journalism from the University of South Carolina. She has studied fiction writing since 2008, attending various writing conferences and workshops, along with guidance from professional writing coaches. She resides in Spartanburg, SC with her husband and 3 sons.

Author Links:
Twitter: @MelissaTLee1975


Buy Link:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Forever-Layla-Time-Travel-Romance-ebook/dp/B00KJHPW5M/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401046644&sr=1-2


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Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Beautiful Lies Book Blitz


Title: Beautiful Lies
Author: Gina Whitney        
Genre: Erotic Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours

Synopsis:Enigmatic Cameron Sterling is quickly rising through the ranks at New York’s most prestigious and corrupt law firm Wotherspoon and Associates. He has willfully avoided any meaningful personal relationships and is content to casually hook up with Becky, a young woman who fancies herself as his actual girlfriend. As a child, Cam witnessed his father murder his mother, and this was the genesis of his relationship-avoidance issue. The only thing he cares about now is becoming a partner at Wotherspoon and Associates. Cam is obsessed with the promotion and will not let anything—or anyone—stand in his way.

But when Cam crosses paths with Lilly Amsel, a fashion model, the edges of his well laid plans begin to fray. At first, Cam is unimpressed by Lilly’s exaggerated effervescence and entitled air. However, he is taken aback by her incredible beauty—legs as long as an Amazon’s, silky honeyed-hair, and blazing body. This undeniable physical attraction disturbs Cam on all levels, leaving him intrigued by Lilly and wanting to get away from her at the same time. 

Lilly is strongly aroused by Cam’s moody presence. His dark, erotic looks and heady scent ignite long-dormant embers of wanton desire buried deep within her. Practically hypnotized, she finds her body reacting in the most surprising and carnal of ways. However, the two separate and never expect to see each other again, but somehow they manage to still linger on each other. Lilly’s larger-than-life persona that Cam initially encountered is a sham, though. It is a well-crafted costume that masks deeply rooted insecurity and an unfortunate dependence on prescription drugs. This stems from a horrifically abusive childhood that she is trying desperately, and unsuccessfully, to forget. Her mediocre modeling career was the perfect vehicle for her to escape that tumult and simultaneously receive acceptance and praise. It did not matter to Lilly that the kudos were based on superficial assumptions. She was still almost satisfied with the result and what modeling could not fix, the drugs could. 

Enthrallment and lust have other plans, though. Despite their best efforts to stay apart, Cam and Lilly come back together and embark on a tempestuous affair. For both of them, a torrid weekend getaway in the mountains unleashes years of pent-up sexual frustration and destroys inhibitions. Cam has no problem taking charge as he relishes Lilly’s delicious inner nectar. Again and again, Cam delivers Lilly pleasure she has never known before, leaving her trembling as she reclaims the goddess within.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18718514-beautiful-lies

Gina Whitney grew up reading Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew books. She was raised in the town of North Valley Stream, New York(Long Island)and attended community college for fashion design. At 19 she opened a boutique. She recently published her first paranormal romance novel Blood Ties. When she's not writing, she's hanging with family and friends. She shares a home with her wonderful son’s PJ and Drew, and their 200lb Mastiff Hercules. She currently lives in Massapequa, New York. Reading has always been a passion and obsession. You can usually find her typing furiously while shouting obscenities over her latest work. She also enjoys a good laugh, being snarky, espresso, and above all steamy swooning angst filled novels. She's pathologically obsessed with True Blood(Eric ;), Games of Thrones, Borgias, Vampire Diaries and Originals. You can also find her chatting it up with readers on Facebook.



Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gina-Whitney/e/B00DWDU1KG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Blog: http://authorginawhitney.blogspot.com/


Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Lies-Gina-Whitney-ebook/dp/B00JVZ0WLC/ref=la_B00DWDU1KG_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398356103&sr=1-2

Chapter One

If I had known then that Lilly Amsel would set such a fierce blaze in my life, I would have taken the next elevator.
All I wanted that morning was to get a hard run on the treadmill and go to my office to put in some weekend overtime. I arrived at The Equity, the most prestigious gym not only in New York City but in the country, and was checking my work-issued Blackberry as usual. I tended to avoid such pretentious settings, but membership was one of the many perks of my employment at Wotherspoon and Associates. As a law student at Aldensburg University, I had interned at the corporate law firm and had been offered a position after I’d passed the bar five years ago. Aldensburg was not as premier a college when compared to the Ivies; in fact most people have never heard of it. But, like me, it got the job done. And professionally the job I was trying to get done now was making partner. I know it was an ambitious goal, but I had nothing but faith in my skills to make it happen.
For the moment I was there at The Equity in my sagging basketball shorts and stretched-out T-shirt, standing amid chichi air kissers. I was not there to hobnob; I actually had a serious goal. I worked out not only to maintain my body but to keep my mind sharp, focused, and ready at all times. That was what separated me from those people. I was a shark among peacocks.
The cheerless receptionist with the sucked-in cheeks eyed me as I stepped through the door. I could see her hostile nostrils widen like a bull’s as she feigned a barely polite smile. She knew who I was but played this ridiculous game with me every day. Always pretending not to know me.
“I’m sorry, sir. You must be looking for the gym down the street.”
That was her way of telling me that my choice of clothing was not up to par, and I might consider some more appropriate attire. I had known plenty of people like her growing up and knew that the best way to handle her was to be in her face every chance I got, to be the proverbial pebble in her shoe. I swiped my security pass card and told her, “See you tomorrow.”
The Equity was an “it” destination for celebrities and all manner of the rich and powerful. The entry level consisted of a wide, stark-white hallway with electric-blue tube lights lining the walls and ceiling, and filled with the ethereal melody of a string orchestra. This main hallway connected with several more, with the last one ending a spacious, low-lit lounge area. Scattered about were suede couches and glass tables; black-and-white photos of perfectly sculpted body parts hung on the walls. This was where those who came to be seen strategically posed themselves just in case an undercover paparazzo managed to sneak in. The lounge was usually empty in the morning because its denizens could not manage to roll out of bed until well into the afternoon.
I made my way across the rugs to yet another hall that led to a bank of elevators. I pushed the “up” button, eager to start my workout. Then I heard the quick click clack of feminine footsteps come up behind me. I sighed because I knew those shoes—probably high heels—were not made for running. This was just another pampered pest whose idea of working out was getting a massage. I did not even have to turn around to figure this chick out.
Her heavy perfume was layered with the fresh smell of soap and shampoo. Typical of someone who saw the gym as a social occasion rather than a place to exercise. I never had patience with lackadaisical people who were not willing to put in the effort to achieve anything. I wanted so badly to turn around and say, “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be having Sunday brunch over at Peacock Alley?”  
However, I was not there to judge. I was there to work out. But I was curious as to who was standing behind me. I looked into the stainless-steel door of the elevator to see if I could make out the reflection. The dull surface only revealed that the grayish silhouette behind me was tall and lanky. Not as tall as me at six foot three, but tall nonetheless.  
Then a hoard of more click-clacking footsteps arrived, accompanied by raucously shrill voices greeting the first woman. I thought, Oh god. Jersey girls.
“Lilly!” they all screamed in unison.
The first woman, Lilly, chirped back. “Sweetie pies, how are you?” 
One nasally voice responded, “Fine if you like your nipples turning into Popsicles. It’s cold as hell out there. What’s on your agenda today? ”
“Pilates with Jean-Paul. Thirty minutes.”
“What is he? A slave driver?” another woman said seriously with a croaky smoker’s voice.
“I know, right?” Lilly agreed. All I could do was roll my eyes at that nonsense.    
Lilly had an odd way of speaking that only a discerning ear could pick up. She was trying her best to affect a newscaster accent, that plain Midwestern way of speaking. However, she would occasionally slip into an upward inflection that made every sentence sound like a question. She was definitely a So-Cal transplant. It was beyond me why, in the midst of shudder-inducing Jersey accents, Lilly hid her natural one.
As the elevator numbers slowly ticked down, I noticed in my peripheral vision the number of men passing. They were all doing double takes at Lilly. Either she was gorgeous or hideous beyond measure. Either way, it did not matter to me. I had seen plenty of both and was not swayed by the slop or gloss of anything. An ethics professor a long way back even accused me of being jaded. What he could not understand was that when your life has been a trial by fire, you see things differently from most. The world and all the people in it are just opportunities for you to get what you need. You can’t depend on anyone but yourself. When you have lived in a cushioned bubble like the professor, you just don’t get that. Needless to say I barely passed that class.
The elevator finally arrived, and the herd of new-money cows stampeded past me to get in. I turned back, and Lilly was waiting for me to usher her out like I was the doorman. Sure enough she was decked out in black from head to toe—leggings, turtleneck, and those clacking ankle boots. She had a leather bag brimming with Voss water and vitamin blister packs. She appeared to be in her early twenties, so I was perplexed as to why she needed so many pills.
Still, I must admit that I was taken aback by how beautiful she was. Her hair, pushed back and glossed into a tight bun, reminded me of dark honey, and her graceful, lithe body looked like that of a ballet dancer. And those eyes—they were extraordinarily large orbs of malachite rimmed in chestnut. However, no matter how pouty her dewy lips were, Lilly still acted like an entitled elitist, so pampered that she probably considered Park Slope to be the ghetto.
I watched her standing there looking at me. This woman was used to people fawning all over her, and I was not one to do that. I did not grovel or bow down to anybody. But no matter what I felt about her at the moment, I decided to do the gentlemanly thing.
“Ladies first,” I said.
Lilly sashayed past me and joined her tacky and deeply moneyed crew. As she crossed the threshold of the elevator, she gave me a “thanks” that was nowhere near sincere. I spent the elevator ride to the third floor listening to her companions’ boisterous gossip about other women at the club. Yet I did not hear Lilly utter any comment. I just felt her eyes laser beaming my back. Apparently she was still shocked and pissed that I didn’t think she was the shit.

* * *

“Lilly, you forgot your water,” Jean-Paul yelled out to me. He had been my Pilates instructor for the past six years—my entire time in New York. After I finished my thirty-minute workout with him, I got some fresh acrylics in the spa. I was preparing for an interview with Paramour Life, fashion’s most prominent magazine, later that afternoon. Though I was modeling, the interview was not about me. It was really about my boyfriend of two years, Sig Krok. Sig had come from Sweden twenty years ago and started his own fashion house, KlÃ¥. KlÃ¥. It quickly became one of the best-selling clothing lines in the world.
This article would be a tribute to Sig. The magazine just wanted my perspective of him and a little insider knowledge of our highly visible yet terribly private relationship.  
With discreet sleight of hand, Jean-Paul handed me my property, and it was not really water. It was my bottle of Klonopin.
“I know how important water is,” he said then quickly dismissed himself to his next scheduled client. I watched him for a moment. I was in awe and bewilderment over how he mastered the art of prancing and swaying like a seasoned burlesque dancer. He really had to teach me that sometime.
Realizing I was running out of time before the interview and still had to get my makeup done, I abruptly turned around to leave. And I turned right into Mr. Scowl—the guy at the elevator this morning. Aw, just great, I thought.
“Excuse me,” I said as I started walking away. By then he had put on some more weather-appropriate clothing—jeans and a cable-knit sweater with a white T-shirt underneath. And the creep did not even respond to me, smirking his arrogant mouth instead. Even though he was pompous, he was kind of cute. Though it was the middle of winter, his skin looked sun kissed. He was a giant of a man, well over six feet tall. His luminous, copper eyes seemed like they were always narrowed, like he was annoyed with people because they were merely human and could not withstand his survey.
I headed toward the elevator, and he did the same. When we got there, I started pushing buttons in hopes it would make the elevator come faster. The bell dinged, and he let me on first. I could tell he didn’t want to but was trying to be The Man.
We stood in opposite corners. By then most men would have engaged me in conversation. He hadn’t. Was he gay? No, I had a fairly accurate gaydar. What was wrong with him then? I was becoming increasingly irritated by this man’s presence. I glanced over at him. He was wiping his sweaty brow, and his hand pushed up his cap a bit, exposing his inky hair cut with perfect precision around the edges. The cap was thready and had a large A on the front. He probably had gotten it from some college a while back. I also noticed that on the underside of the cap’s bill, he had written his name in permanent marker: Cam.  
Even though he grated on me, I could not help but be distracted by his body. He had Adonis-like shoulders, broad and protective. His thick thighs were agape, his wide stance taking up a good deal of space. This square-jawed man was definitely broody, but even without a smile, I could make out the dimple in his cheek. And I did not even want to get started on the size of his hands and feet. They were enormous.
The air vent was blowing a light, steady stream of air across Cam. I inhaled the heady scent of his newly sweaty body intermingled with a woodsy deodorant. I leaned in his direction. One of my eyes went on autopilot and fluttered—that thing that happens when something is real good. I took another breath and leaned in some more.  
Wait! What…the fuck…am I doing? I caught myself right before my nose landed on Cam’s arm. And there he was with the same “what the fuck?” look. He was staring at me going for his pit with my crazy eye. He obviously thought I was about to rape him.
Quick, deflect. I pointed at my ear. “I thought you said something.” I regained my composure and returned my gaze forward.
But he sure did smell good. And boy, was I horny.
WhateverI wasn’t going to say anything else to Cam. He was still nothing but an aloof, smug asshole to me. And I had to endure what seemed like a forever ride to the first floor with him. I turned my face back to the elevator doors with just the sound of the motors and cables to break the silence.
I was so relieved to get out of the elevator, I practically sprinted into the parking garage. I slung my faux fur over my shoulders as I rushed to Sig’s Infiniti QX80. Cam was trailing me, sliding into his leather jacket. And I just knew he was about to ask me for my number despite that fiasco in the elevator. Maybe I hadn’t lost my touch. I was prepared to shoot him down, of course. But he sure was taking his time. I was already at Sig’s SUV.
However, not only did Cam not ask me for my number, he was only walking behind me because he had parked his powerful, black Harley 1200 Custom next to me. He spread his thick legs and straddled it then put on his Aviator sunglasses and revved up his baby. I had to say, that motorcycle…the way it just hung between his legs…looked more like a big, hard dick than anything else.
Cam turned the twist grip like it was his cock and throttled up. The rumble from the motorcycle bounced off the concrete walls of the garage. It was almost deafening. He didn’t care. In fact, if I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn he’d done it on purpose. I was totally conflicted. Never had I so detested a man and still wanted to fuck the skin off his dick at the same time.
Alas, Cam drove off without even looking in my direction. I let out an audible gasp. No straight male ever looked at me and just turned away.
Hmm…maybe my gaydar was in need of a tune-up.  

Monday, May 19, 2014

*Cover Reveal* Leading Her Witness by Cheryl Ann Smith


Title: Leading Her Witness
Author: Cheryl Ann Smith 
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: October 13, 2014
Publisher:  Tulip Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours


Synopsis: Goons, deadbeats, and murder: A tenacious process server’s unconventional techniques get her into loads of trouble. So much so that her boss jokes that he keeps the coroner on speed dial just in case. Still, most of Andie Dixon’s job is pretty tame if she doesn’t count snapping dogs and homeowners squirting her with garden hoses. That changes when she serves papers on a notorious crime boss and puts her life in real jeopardy. But despite this close call, Andie will not let threats keep her from doing her job. She puts the matter behind her until a hunky U.S. Marshal tracks her down and solicits her help to find the fugitive. Again. At first Andie adamantly refuses, but eventually agrees when she’s swayed by the Marshal’s persistence and rather dreamy brown eyes. However, when crime boss Sammy Gilroy, finds out she’s back and close on his heels, he threatens to make her disappear for good this time.


A fan of romance fiction since the dark ages, author Cheryl Ann Smith loves to throw her heroines into danger, just to see what they’ll do. Her dream of publication came true in 2011 when the first in her historical romance series came out with Berkley Sensation. And just this year, she sold a new contemporary series to Tulip Romance, thus allowing her to mix her crazy sense of humor with suspenseful elements to write about process server, Andie Dixon, the kick-ass heroine Cheryl has always wanted to be.
Cheryl lives in Michigan with her family, two cats and a very hairy dog. She enjoys outdoor adventures and traveling, when she has the time, and hopes to make her first visits to Europe and Australia in the very near future.