Book Blitz: Tasting Her Christmas Cookies by Alina Jacobs

Tasting Her Christmas Cookies 
by Alina Jacobs 
Publication date: November 19th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance


Winter is coming—and unfortunately it’s bringing Christmas with it.

I loathe the holiday. I hate holiday parties, fragrant decorations, and hokey movies. If I had my way it would be winter all year round and never Christmas.

Nothing burns like the cold—except a hot oven.

That’s right; against my better judgment I agreed to let The Great Christmas Bake-Off film in my tower.

And St. Nick help me but I even agreed to be a judge.


Christmas is like the perfect sugar cookie—it slowly melts in your mouth, sweetening every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.

I love Christmas. I love the cheerful music, the fun sweaters, and the holiday lights. Most of all I love Christmas Cookies.

A begrudging bake-off judge, I refuse to let grouchy billionaire Owen Frost hate Christmas. The man is overworked, his employees are uninspired, and his life is seriously lacking in Yuletide cheer. I want to stuff his stocking with sugary goodness to put him in a very festive mood.

So I dressed up as a sexy elf and gave Owen a taste of something extra special. You should have seen his eyes roll back in his head when he bit into the perfect sugar cookie!

I can’t let Owen Frost be a distraction. Things are insane enough without a sexy billionaire.

My baking subscription service is in the death throes.

My Christmas-ruining step sister is trying to sabotage me in the bake-off.

I’m being stalked by elves on the shelf come to life.

Ok that last one is a little weird, but welcome to my disaster of a life.

I need to win The Great Christmas Bake-Off to pay of my debts and launch my baking career. Sleeping with one of the judges is going to ruin my chance for a merry Christmas. Owen with his washboard abs and big Christmas package is a bad idea. It’s best to keep that all wrapped under the tree.

But when he said in that deep, sexy voice, “Can I have another taste of your Christmas cookies?” Well, let’s just say I’m unwrapping one particular Christmas present early!

Tasting Her Christmas Cookies is a standalone holiday romantic comedy. If you love Christmas desserts, like to laugh out loud at holiday innuendoes, and want Santa to put a tall, good-looking guy under your tree, then pick up this full-length, steamy romance novel! There are no cliffhangers but there is a very happy (Christmas!) ever after!


“We are having a Christmas bath scene in the near future,” I said to the camera, “with holiday bath bombs and themed cocktails. But unfortunately, it won’t be tonight. The bake-off starts tomorrow, baking fans!”

I looked longingly at the bathtub. Then, making sure the phone was definitely not recording, because I did not need to be that kind of Instagrammer, I took a quick shower. I seriously could not get over how huge the bathroom was. I could live in it. With a toaster and a mini fridge, I would totally be good.

After wrapping myself in the robe, I tied a T-shirt around my hair. I had frizzy hair on a good day; keeping my curls manageable was a perpetual struggle. I applied a gingerbread-cookie-scented moisturizer while my videos uploaded. Because I was busy scrolling through my phone and answering comments as I came out of the bathroom, I didn’t notice the half-naked man until he swore.

I looked up and screamed.

“Help! Help! Stalker!” I shrieked and ineffectively pointed at the stranger. Between the rippling muscles, the washboard abs, and an ass I could bounce a quarter on, I hoped he wasn’t actually here to hurt me, because he could do some damage. Pointing and shrieking wasn’t going to stop him. Fortunately, he looked more shocked and horrified than angry and violent.

“Stop screaming!” he bellowed. A freezing breeze blew into the room. It was as if the man had brought the rage of winter into the master suite with him. He looked like it, too, with his ice-blue eyes and silver-white hair. “This is my penthouse. You are not authorized to be here. That makes you the stalker!”

I stopped screaming. It clearly wasn’t helping anything. I also couldn’t help but notice that the bathroom wasn’t the only thing that was huge in the room. With him wearing nothing but boxer briefs, I could tell Santa had brought the handsome man a very large Christmas package indeed. The breeze blew in from the balcony, swirling the strange man’s clean and masculine scent around the room. I forced myself to ignore it.

“Get out of my house,” Big Christmas Package said flatly.

“You get out!” I shrieked. “I’m a bake-off contestant. This isn’t your room!”

“What the—” he grabbed his clothes, tugging on his pants. “The Great Christmas Bake-Off? I cannot have Christmas invading every element of my life. This is ridiculous. Christmas is ridiculous. It’s such a stupid, childish holiday.” He punctuated his words by snatching up articles of clothing.

“Hey now!” I said, hands on my hips, fear subsiding. “Christmas is never ridiculous. It’s the best holiday ever. And if you can’t see that, well then, you’re just a grinch, aren’t you?”

He advanced on me. I was suddenly very aware of how large he was. Christmas package notwithstanding, this dude was tall, broad shouldered, with rippling muscles. He could probably split me in two.

Yes, please.

“You’re some stupid little baker who never outgrew the childish fantasy of Christmas,” he sneered. 

My nose was inches away from his chest. He glowered down at me. I was too angry to be aware of his half-naked body. Okay, maybe I was like fifteen percent aware. But the majority of my energy was focused on being offended on behalf of Christmas.

“Don’t insult baking,” I said, giving him my best “I want to speak to the manager vibe,” though it was ruined by the fact that I had to crane my neck up to see him and that I was completely naked under the robe. “And never insult Christmas!”

His nostrils flared slightly.

“Men like you constantly belittle the work that women do to keep cultural traditions like Christmas alive,” I continued, poking him in the chest.

“We decorate homes to make them cozy.”


“We cook holiday dinners and bake festive desserts.”


“We host parties that bring families and friends together.”

Before I could poke him again, he grabbed my hand in his much-larger one. Then, realizing what he’d done, he quickly released it.

“I will not stand for your bad attitude!” I declared.

He glared down at me, strong jaw clenched, eyes cold as a frozen lake. “I can’t even believe this,” he finally snarled. He grabbed his briefcase and stormed out, still shirtless.

“Oh my God!” Fiona exclaimed, wide-eyed, as she ran into the room. She hugged me then pushed me to sit on the bed. “Are you okay? Who was that? Why was he in here? Someone call the police!”

“I knew it! You’re trying to steal my boyfriend,” Amber yelled at me, rushing into the room. “That’s Owen Frost, and he’s mine!”


Giveaway ends December 5th.

The grand prize is:

  • 3x $10 Amazon gift card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Purchase Links:


If you like steamy romantic comedies with a creative streak, then I’m your girl!

Architect by day, writer by night, I love matcha green tea, chocolate, and books! So many books…

Sign up for my mailing list to get the free novella, AFTER HIS PEONIES, along with special bonus content, giveaways, and more!


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Book Blitz: Pinky Promises by Deana Birch

Pinky Promises 
by Deana Birch 
Publication date: November 18th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance


When her long-distance teaching buddy goes on maternity leave, New York City native Leyla Harraq, temporarily transplants to a sleepy beach town on the West Coast to manage her friend’s Hot Yoga studio. But the yogini’s brash spunk leads to an immediate social gaffe when she insults her new landlord, carpenter Adam Fields, and must backpedal to save face.

Watching her hottie landlord wallow in solitary confinement after a brutal break-up will never do. Motivated by her own need for physical contact, Leyla happily offers herself as the perfect rebound. She’ll be gone in a couple of months, no one has to know, and she can wipe his ex right out of his mind… and body. After all, if anyone knows how to turn up the heat, it’s her.

But when the studio owner realizes she can’t return to teaching full-time and asks Leyla to stay, the fish-out-of-water must make a choice. Can she abandon her commitment-free lifestyle for small town drama and a chance at love with a hunky hammer wielding man?


She bent over. Again. And I stared. Again. And possibly drooled. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d been dating my girlfriend for ten years and never once thought of another girl in a totally inappropriate and downright lusty way. 

Plus, I was her damn landlord. There had to be some kind of weird power thing making my dirty mind even worse. When the hell had I turned into Creepy McGoogly-Eyes? I shook my head like a confused dog and headed through my glass door into the open kitchen.

“Chicken okay for you?” I asked over my shoulder. That was the other thing. Why had I asked her to dinner? Maybe it was because I couldn’t figure her out. New York sass one minute and stupefaction the next. Yeah, that was it. Not her bendy little butt, coal-black hair or insanely charming accent. 

“Chicken is perfect. Thank you so much for your hospitality; I really didn’t expect it.” Leyla’s soft smile revealed a small dimple in her chin. She tapped the counter a couple of times and surveyed the room before meeting me at the fridge. “What can I do to help?”

Damn, she was short. She didn’t even have to hunch down to look in at the shelves. And I didn’t fail to notice her offer. Whenever Holly came over, which was most nights when she wasn’t traveling for work, she would find excuse after excuse not to chip in. Either she’d just gotten her nails done or was too tired or would just blink and say, “I do love it when you spoil me, babe. You don’t mind if I chill, work was a bitch.” It had just seemed like something I’d accepted in our relationship. I’d often wondered how much she would do if we ever had kids. And if I was honest, it was one of the things holding me back from buying a ring. 

“Give me something to chop.” Leyla held open her hands. “Or I can just rummage around and make a salad out of whatever I find.”

I pulled out the marinated chicken breast from the bottom drawer and met her olive eyes on the way back to standing. “Go for it. There’s a head of lettuce and vegetables in the second drawer. You want a beer?”

“You trying to get me drunk?” A small, sarcastic snarl wrinkled her face. 

I yanked my head back, and she cringed. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Oh, Christ, now I said fuck. And Christ. I’m so sorry.” Rapid blinks were followed by one long one and a sharp exhale from her nose. “I think I have a little bit of fish-out-of-water syndrome. I’m sorry if I offended you with my language or implied…”

She really was quite the little pickle. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“Maybe it will help me stop committing social faux pas. A beer would be great, thanks.” Leyla pulled out two red peppers and an onion and set them on the counter. I stepped out of the doorway, opened the cooler, grabbed a longneck, and wiped the ice water it dripped onto a nearby dish towel.

A quick hiss escaped the bottle as I twisted the cap and brought it back to the kitchen. I slid the beer across the counter, where Leyla was already busy chopping vegetables. 

“Just for the record, I don’t consider the swearing a problem. The gawker comment, yes,” I deadpanned. 

Her face fell as she reached for the beer. The bottle hovered below her lips and her eyes went wide. “I—”

“Relax. I’m fucking with you.” And dear God, it was more fun than I’d had in a long time. She was easier to wind up than a toy from the dollar store. 

She set the beer down and crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed, but a glimmer of something, maybe mischief, betrayed what she probably wanted to read as anger. 

“You were kinda staring at my ass.”

Her ass was kinda staring back as far as I was concerned, sending all kinds of voodoo messages that had somehow convinced me to check it out every chance I got. But no way was I confessing to that. 

“Sorry. But no. I told you. I was just trying to figure out how you’d made yourself into a human pretzel.” Human pretzel in ridiculously revealing shorts.

Her slightly pouty lips plumped out and Leyla rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Mr. My Girlfriend is in Vegas.” She turned back to the vegetables, took a swig of the beer, and went back to work.


Giveaway ends November 28th.

The grand prize is:

  • Paperback copy of Pinky Promises

Purchase Links:


Born and raised in the Midwest, Contemporary Romance and Erotica writer, Deana Birch, now lives with her family in Europe. She can be found teaching yoga, ruining her children’s French homework, cleaning up dog vomit, writing her next book, or reading someone else’s.


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Book Blitz: Freeing Eden by G.S. Kenney

Freeing Eden 
by G.S. Kenney 
Published by: Soul Mate Publishing
Publication date: May 29th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Science Fiction


A unique take on the eternal quandary of “good” versus “evil.”
— Joan D. Vinge, Hugo Award-winning author of The Snow Queen

All trader Zara wanted was to help Kell, a clone, retrieve his maker’s memories and discover who he really is. The conflict-torn planet Eden was supposed to be just a stop en route, but Kell begins recalling fragments of memories from Swifthammer, Eden’s now-deceased resistance leader. Despite Zara’s misgivings, Kell assumes Swifthammer’s role, opposing the planet’s foreign warlord Reuel.

But Reuel’s schemes take a dangerous turn when it becomes clear he has tampered with Kell’s programming. Could the memories Kell now begins to experience be . . . Reuel’s?

Kell struggles to bring peace to Eden by uniting his maker’s heritage with that of the planet’s oppressor, but Zara fears she may be losing her heart to the man who is poised to become Eden’s next and most terrible warlord. Can she help Kell find an identity all his own–and a future they can share together?


No door was locked on Eden, but Avram knocked at the door of a house that seemed a bit larger than most. A small girl perhaps eight years old opened the door, her blond hair in long braids that hung down her back. Like so many of the children Kell had seen, she was painfully thin. Her clothes were old and faded and patched, but they were clean and neat. Her eyes widened when she saw the strangers at the door, but she spoke politely. “Please wait here a moment. I’ll get my father.”

The father was tall and strongly built, with a long, thick black beard and dark brown eyes. He examined the three strangers and must have deemed them acceptable, for he opened the door wide and said simply, “Come in. There is plenty here for a few more. My name is Seth. You are welcome.”

Avram spoke for the group. “My name is Avram, and these are Kell and Zara. Zara is a trader bringing seed. We need only a place to sleep in your barn, if you are willing.”

Seth smiled warmly. “That, and dinner, I expect. Well, you are welcome to both, and there are rooms in the house, too. We will need seed in this village next spring.”

The family had already sat down for dinner, but the children crowded more closely together and places were set for the three newcomers. An older woman with white hair rolled neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck glanced vaguely at the visitors as they took seats. She looked away, seemingly uninterested, and then she looked back at Kell, watching him as a cat might a mouse. Her eyes glittered in the flickering lamplight as she stared at him. She was tiny and bent. Her face was a map of wrinkles, more pronounced when she squinted to keep him in focus.

Kell couldn’t face the recognition in her eyes. His heart beat faster. He looked at the family around the table: his host, black-bearded and large-boned Seth, the three young children, and the weary housewife Annie, who placed a serving bowl on the table and sat down. He studied the age-worn wood of the table, the empty plates still waiting to be served, the yellowed and peeling paper on the walls.

He’d seen that look of recognition several times since he and Zara landed on Eden, and each time it was harder to face than the last. When he first became conscious back on Zara’s ship, he’d briefly wanted to remember his maker. But now, after a month of being no one but himself, he didn’t want to know more about the man. He was afraid of his maker’s memories.

He glanced at Avram. The old man’s white hair and beard were unkempt as always. When they’d first met, Avram too had stared at him with that I-didn’t-expect-to-meet-you-out-here look, but Avram didn’t meet his eyes now.

“Will you be leading us again, Swifthammer? Like before?” The grandmother asked the question as casually as she might have asked whether he thought it would rain. Silence fell around the table. Though the smell of a hot root-vegetable stew still in its serving bowl beckoned enticingly, no one moved.

Kell’s breath caught. He glanced at Zara, who sat perfectly still on the other side of Avram, her lips rounded in what could have been a silent “No.”

He wrapped his arms around himself and with difficulty returned the grandmother’s gaze. He shook his head slightly, apologetically. “My name is Kell.” His voice sounded hollow in his own ears. His heart was pounding. “Not—” He couldn’t make himself speak the syllables of the strange name. “Just Kell. I’m sorry.”

“It’s we who apologize, Kell.” Seth spoke quietly, but his basso voice reverberated off the walls. He frowned reprovingly at his mother. “But you do look a bit like him. My mother is old. Sometimes she gets confused.”

Around the table, people began serving the stew and eating. “Many of us resemble one another,” Avram said. He patted Kell’s arm and smiled encouragingly. “Too many shared bloodlines. Everyone is someone’s third cousin.”

Kell let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and returned Avram’s smile. He took the serving bowl as it came around and ladled some stew onto his plate. It smelled delicious. Garden thyme, Kell thought. Hardy oregano. Sage. The recognition was sudden and certain. He had no idea where it came from.

This brought him back to the problem the old woman had raised. He had to face it. With his stomach in a knot and his dinner forgotten, he braced himself. He held the spoon tightly in white-knuckled hands that might have bent a more delicate implement. “I’d like to hear about this Sw—” His throat constricted, as if the name had to be kept down. “It’s a strange name.”

Seth laughed. The sound filled the room much like his large-framed body filled his chair, and his amusement overflowed into his words. “It’s a nickname, actually, because he was so good at striking quick, hard blows against our oppressors. Proof, if you need it, that we are a people more comfortable with tools than with weapons. His real name was Yakob. I don’t know his surname. But everyone called him Swifthammer.”

“Kell.” Zara leaned forward to talk past Avram, who sat between them. “You don’t have to do this.” She spoke in Trade, though whether because she didn’t want the others to understand her comment or because of her difficulty with Edenian, Kell didn’t know.

“I can’t keep avoiding it,” he replied in the same language. To Seth, he said, “Yakob.” Yakob . . . —what? “You’ve met him?” The blood pounding in his temples made his voice echo inside his head. He felt dizzy.

“Oh, yes,” the old woman said, a ripple of laughter punctuating the two words into seven or eight happy syllables. “You came by this way when Seth and Annie here were just married and none of their children born. I may forget some things, but I wouldn’t forget you.”

“Come, now, Mother, can’t you see he’s not Swifthammer but a stranger?” Seth chided her as he would a small child. To Kell, he said, “I am truly sorry. She’s mistaken you for him.”

“Mistake?” The old woman laughed again, and her eyes glittered with excitement. “Look at you! Look at him, Seth. Is it not young Swifthammer returned to us?”

“Yes, he looks a lot like him,” Seth said, “but that was years ago.” He frowned impatiently. “Swifthammer wouldn’t be young any more. His beard would be gray now, like mine.”

Kell spoke to the old woman. “Please tell me. What was he like?”

“But surely you remember!”

“No. No, I don’t.” Kell looked away, shuffling through his meager store of memories, but as usual he found nothing. “Can you tell me the story?”

The old woman put down her spoon and sat back in her chair, her eyes unfocused as she remembered. “When you came here last, my children were about the age you are now, and you . . . you looked exactly like you do today. Not one whit different. You rode into the village on a white stallion with that blue cape you favored—”

Kell shivered. A memory surfaced . . . or a dream. “Emblazoned with something . . . silver lightning bolts?”

“Yes. Lightning bolts.”

“It was . . . a vanity. A gift, maybe, from . . .” He almost had it, a memory of a face, but it eluded him. “. . . someone . . .” A group of people, faces vague, wearing worn homespun, working together on a hillside somewhere, prying loose boulders to block the way below. Laughing. “I was trying to get people to resist, wasn’t I?” Kell’s hands felt cold and he was lightheaded, as if his heart had stopped beating in order to pay closer attention to this memory fragment, his and yet not his.

“Yes.” The old woman spoke with the assurance of a schoolteacher whose lesson has been well taught. “You see, you do remember. Before, we faced a terrible choice. Some of us defied the warlords and risked terrible punishment, but most of us did as the warlords wished and planted the drug, though it was evil. But you taught us to plant what should be planted and to hide our crops and harvests. To take to the hills when the armies came through and to hinder the armies when we could.”

“Hinder them?” Kell asked. “How? Surely not by fighting.”

“No,” Seth said. “We wouldn’t do violence, not even to violent people. But sometimes we can alter or hide the ways.”

“And then there was that time we managed to divert the army’s supply wagons,” Annie added, smiling at the memory.

“And do you remember that one year,” the old woman added, “when the apple harvest was so good, and we all baked apple pies for the soldiers, and that poor commander paced back and forth, and finally ordered them onward without bothering us further?” She laughed. “That really confused them. And it was fun. We have never forgotten those lessons, Swifthammer.”

Kell remembered none of these incidents, but he did recall the burnt farmhouse they’d seen riding into this village. It wasn’t the first evidence of the Black Lord’s retribution they’d seen on Eden. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “They’ve gained you so little in all these years.”

“No! Not little!” Seth slammed his empty palm down on the table, rattling both the dishes and his wife, whose spoon dropped from her hand to clang on the wooden floor. He glared around the table as if to defy anyone to contradict him. No one did. “They have helped us gain self-respect and integrity before God and the community of men! And for that, we would sacrifice the same all over again!”

“As you have too, Swifthammer,” his mother said sadly, “to die as they say you did and to come back to us as you promised.”

Kell shivered as if a ghost’s wings had lightly brushed his cheek in passing. His maker’s ghost. For an instant, he doubted his own substantiality. “How did I . . . did he die?”

“We heard only rumors,” Seth said.

The fragile world Kell had constructed in the last month seemed about to break apart like thin ice under his weight. He looked at Zara, hoping for help. Zara had made no move to eat, nor to brush aside a dark curl that fell across her face. She sat intensely watching her plate as if to make sure that it wouldn’t come to life and walk away. She was breathing shallowly.

Seth’s wife Annie took pity on Kell. “We have been told that the Black Lord killed Swifthammer. But of course, the rumor might be false. For all we know, it might have been the Black Lord’s soldiers that spread this tale.”

“Or it might have happened,” Seth said with a scowl as grim as his voice.

No one spoke. A burning log collapsed in the fireplace. Silently, Seth stood, took a poker, and rearranged the burning wood. The fire blazed brighter.

After a while, Kell asked, “The resistance . . . continues?”

“In its way,” Seth said. “But not like in Swifthammer’s day.”

“Now, Seth,” said his wife. “They try, the ones up in Keephold.”

“Perhaps.” Seth’s jaw tightened, and a scar across his cheek gleamed almost white in the firelight as he frowned. “But if they are doing anything useful, we don’t hear of it out this way.” He jabbed viciously at a log, which fell from where he had just neatly arranged it. He jabbed at it again, then turned to glare at anyone who might be about to say anything further. As if anyone would dare.


Giveaway ends November 28th.

The grand prize is:

  • 3x t-shirts (3 winners)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Purchase Links:


Author G. S. Kenney started reading early, and never stopped. In kindergarten, drawn in by an interesting book with a picture of three witches at a cauldron, she learned to read by starting with Macbeth. Now she writes speculative fiction. Her science-fiction romance novel Freeing Eden, published by Soul Mate Publishing, was a 2018 finalist in the Golden Heart® contest of the Romance Writers of America. The Last Lord of Eden, the second novel in the Ascent of Eden series, will be published by Soul Mate soon. 



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Book Blitz: Alee by Nicole Loufas

by Nicole Loufas 
Publication date: November 19th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Young Adult


With just weeks left before her high school graduation, Alee dumps with her sunshine stealing boyfriend in epic fashion – by sleeping with his best friend.

Since bad things happen in three, becoming the school slut is just the beginning.

A mass shooting steals the life of Alee’s Olympic-bound best friend and a homeless drug addict turns out to be the father who abandoned Alee as a child.

With a backpack full of daddy-issues and a bucket list of broken dreams, Alee searches for light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Will the man who broke her, be the one who saves her life?


Funeral food is like every other party food. Pinwheel sandwiches, mini-meatballs in a brown sauce, wilted salad, and an assortment of cheese and crackers. Laine plucks a cucumber from the tray. He dips it in ranch then shoves it in his mouth with an inappropriately timed sexy smile.

“Bryn hates baby carrots. She said there was something unnatural about them.”

“Toss them.” Laine points to the trash receptacle. “She’s right, they look like fat little baby fingers.” He inspects a dried out digit shaped carrot.

I pick up the tray and carry it to the trash. “This is for Bryn.” The carrots make a raucous as they spill into the bin. A few people glance my way, not for long. Too much eye contact and they’ll have to acknowledge me, speak me, console me.

Laine tosses his carrot in from a few feet away. “Bryn for the win.” He holds pose a few seconds the way Steph Curry does when he hits a three.

We return to the buffet where Frances is speaking to Bryn’s English teacher. She was an honor student so we never had classes together.

“Bryn was smart,” I tell Laine because he’s the only one here who will listen. “She had a 4.0 for, like, ever.”

I remember watching her study, wondering where all that information went. She was like a sponge, absorbing everything around her. Bryn immersed herself in life. She was always moving, always busy with practice of some kind, volunteering, studying, me. I was a project too. She tried like hell to get me involved, get me out of my shell. My spirit animal is a crab; shells are my thing.

Laine and I move to the stage on the other side of the room. A bunch of unattended kids run back and forth squealing like baby pigs. Laine knows a couple of them. They jump on him as soon as he sits down and beg for piggyback rides. He obliges. Laine is a nice guy. I like Laine. That’s probably why I fucked him.

“Are any of these yours?” It’s a joke, but you never know. “That one kind of has your eyes.” I point to the little girl clinging to his back. He gently lets her down and she runs off.

“I volunteer at an after-school program at the rec. At first, it was just something to add to my college applications, but I liked it so I stayed.”

“You really are a good guy, aren’t you?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I owe you an apology, for that day. For sucking you into my shit show. You didn’t deserve that.”

His shoulder leans into mine. “No apology necessary. Honestly, I could tell you and Benny weren’t gonna make it.” Laine is Benny’s best friend, he knows all about Benny’s side chicks. Maybe that’s why he did it. I wonder if Bryn knew it too.


Giveaway ends November 28th.

The grand prize is:

  • $25 Amazon gift card

Purchase Links:


Nicole was born and raised in California. She claims to be a San Francisco native, however she’s lived in both Northern and Southern California. She credits her creativity to the fact that she attended 12 schools between kindergarten and her senior year in high school. Her nomadic childhood allowed her to reinvent herself often. Some might say she was a liar. While others see the stories she told as a coping mechanism. Twelve schools, in six cities, in twelve years – give her a break. Today she channels her storytelling ability into writing novels. Long story short – kids that lie become writers.




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Book Blitz: Unravel You (Cole Brothers: Book 1) by Diana A. Hicks

Unravel You 
by Diana A. Hicks 
(Cole Brothers, #1) 
Publication date: November 18th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance


UNRAVEL YOU is the enthralling sequel to LOVE OVER LATTES and can be read as a standalone. It is also book one in the Cole Brothers series, a new family saga, binge reading experience: 5 brothers, 5 full-length novels in 5 months.
College graduate Valentina never expected to fall for the hot as hell and intimidating Derek Cole when she accepted his offer to rent his property.

From cottage to mansion, Valentina is certain she doesn’t deserve the fairytale unfolding. But Derek gets what he wants… and he wants her. 

He’s “the one” for her, but before she says I do, she has to survive a month long trip to his family’s estate in Atlanta. Gaining approval from four brothers and an over-protective mother might just be her hardest test yet. 

For billionaire Derek Cole, this homecoming is a chance to mend the damage he caused when he walked away from the family business.

Just when they think they have a handle on their happily ever after… their past and future collide.

Note: This is a steamy romance with explicit sensual scenes, happily ever after, no cheating, and no cliffhanger. Can be read as a standalone.

“Hicks’ first installment of her Desert Monsoon series is confident and assured with strong storytelling, nuanced characters, and a dynamic blend of romance and suspense…A sexy and irresistible tale for fans of contemporary romance.” – Kirkus Reviews

Don’t miss out on this suspenseful and seductive series.

Unravel You, Book 1 (Derek and Valentina) – 11/18/2019
Provoke You, Book 2 (Matt and Ela) – 12/16/2019
Escape You, Book 3 (Tyler and Mia) – 1/13/2020
Unleash You, Book 4 (Wesley and Anabelle) – 2/10/2020
Defy You, Book 5 (Zack and Rebecca) – 3/9/2020


“You had a plan when you walked into my office five minutes ago. What was it?” He gripped the edge of the armrest with both hands, crossing his legs at his ankles. The tiny flame in my chest grew bigger and spread down to my core. 

“I had no plan.” I admitted because the extent of my thoughts when he texted was to come in here and have sex. All I could think of was touching him and feeling his weight on me again. But now I was a little pissed. He could’ve been more explicit. Like, hey, I’m just here to work, bring me the report. No sex. Get your mind out of the gutter. He could also wipe that knowing smile off his face. “What makes you think I had a plan?” I crossed my arms over my chest to cover my hardened nipples. 

He rubbed the side of his face. “The thigh-high stockings. You know how they drive me wild. Even if I can’t see them, I know that’s the only kind you own.” 

If that was true, why was he still five feet away from me? Why had he not ripped my clothes off already and had his way with me on the couch? 

“I have a meeting to go to.” I bolted to the door. Before I could open it, his large hand pressed against it, effectively blocking me from leaving. 

“I don’t think so.” His voice was deep and so full of meaning. He walked me back to the living area until my butt hit the back of the sofa. “You had a plan. Show me.” He gripped my waist and shifted so he was the one caged in. 

I could go, or I could stay and get what I came here for. I slipped my hands inside his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. His dark gaze stayed on me as I removed his dress shirt. A low moan like a hiss escaped his lips when I ran my hands down his muscled chest. His pecs were harder than I remembered. It seemed Derek’s hard body was directly proportional to the amount of stress he had at work. The more they pinned on him, the more time he spent in his boxing ring. These past three weeks must have been hell for him. 

 “Now you.” His voice sounded strained. 

Self-control was Derek’s superpower. I gave up all pretenses and removed my blazer and silky top quickly. My skin felt hot from needing him so much. His lips parted when I finally let my skirt pool at my feet. 

He cradled my face and kissed me hard. “Fuck. Valentina. You came to work wearing that underneath?” His mouth was warm, and he tasted of cinnamon gum. I melted into him, fumbling with his belt. 

“The door.” I panted in between kisses. 

“I locked it.” He gripped my ass and wrapped my legs around his waist as he strode around the sofa and sat with me straddling him. “Valentina. How do you do it? How do you make me forget about everything?” He freed me from my bra and sucked on my aching nipples, switching back and forth until I couldn’t wait anymore. 

“I need you now,” I whispered in his ear. 

I didn’t care that my voice was laced with desperate desire. He cupped my butt cheeks and lifted me enough to give him room to lie flat on the cushions with his head on the decorative pillow. My thighs rubbed his sides as I rested on top of him, topless and without a clue what to do next. 

My confusion must have registered on my face because he placed both hands behind his head and grinned at me. His biceps bulged on either side of him. 

“Your show.” 


He bucked under me to get comfortable, as if he were getting ready to watch a movie or something. The grin that twitched his lip was both infuriating and such a turn-on. 

“You want me inside you. Do it.”


Giveaway ends November 28th.

The grand prizes are:

  • 2x ebook copies of Love Over Lattes (prequel to Unravel You)

Purchase Links:

99¢ on release week only!


Diana A. Hicks is an award-winning author of steamy contemporary romance with a touch of suspense. Book two in her Desert Monsoon series, LOVE OVER LOGIC, won the 2019 Readers’ Favorite Silver Medal Winner in the Romance – Suspense genre

When Diana is not writing, she enjoys kickboxing, traveling, and indulging in the simple joys of life like wine and chocolate. She lives in Atlanta and loves spending time with her two children and husband. Connect with Diana on social media to stay up to date on her latest releases.


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Book Blitz: Two Thousand Lines by Michelle Jester

Two Thousand Lines 
by Michelle Jester 
Publication date: November 21st 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Young Adult


Olivia Brooks has been able to keep her life in Sugar Mill, Louisiana held perfectly together, far away from the small town where she grew up. Even though her past still haunts her, she has found a perfect process of surviving, until a string of events brings Luke Plaisance to Sugar Mill and turns her organized life upside down.

While Olivia fights to hold on to the life she’s created, unraveling it may be exactly what it takes for her to truly survive. She must accept her past in order to live, or let it threaten the only future she’s ever wanted. Because some secrets can’t stay buried… and shouldn’t.

An inspiring and heartbreaking tale of abandonment, survival, and purpose. A harrowing journey of self-discovery and perseverance.

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Michelle Jester lives in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and retired Master Sergeant. Together they have a son and daughter. She is a hopeless romantic and has been writing poems and stories for as long as she can remember. 
One of her prize possessions is a bracelet with only a yellow, Rubber Duckie charm on it; which she wears every day to remind her to enjoy the fun and happy things of life!



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Book Blitz: Just Alex by Angela Flowers

Just Alex 
by Angela Flowers 
Publication date: November 15th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance


Xander Stone is one of the hottest popstars in the world. His songs are on every radio station. His face graces the cover of every top magazine, especially the tabloids.

Everyone adores him.

Except me.

I hate him.

Xander Stone took away the one person I care about more than anything. My best friend.

Oh, and the real kicker? Xander Stone is my best friend. At least he was at one time. Back when he was just Alex. 


The lights faded again and screaming of epic proportions ensued, shaking the entire arena as a silhouetted figure stepped on stage. The lights snapped on and there he was. For a split second, I saw my Alex, then his lips curved into his trademark Xander smile, the music started, and he began to sing. My eyes followed him as memories of the boy he used to be saturated my mind, drowning me in a sea of grief all over again.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” Lena asked.

Unable to drag my eyes from the stage, I nodded. He really was. I should be happy for him, and I wanted to be, but I couldn’t stop the sadness from overshadowing it all.

I missed my friend.

Don’t get me wrong, I was proud of his success. I’d always known he was meant to be more — famous even. Hell, I’d been his number one supporter, yet I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel some resentment. I missed my friend and hated that Xander Stone had taken him away from me.

All around me people cheered, danced, and screamed Xander’s name, driving home the painful truth. Our lives were dramatically different now. He was a famous singer living on the road, visiting a different city or country each night, and I was a simple college student sharing an apartment with my roommate. He went to elaborate parties where people sipped expensive champagne from crystal flutes, while I attended the occasional campus party where people drank cheap beer and vodka from plastic cups.

Choking back a sob, I excused myself before blindly making my way out onto the main concourse, where I leaned back against the cement wall. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. When I opened them again, I spotted a merchandise kiosk and found myself taunted by Xander Stone’s face on tee shirts, hats, and hoodies.


I turned to Drew, who was now standing beside me.

“Hey,” I croaked.

“You okay?” he asked as his sea-green eyes searched my face.

“Not really.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Then how about a drink?” He took my hand and led me to the nearest vendor.

I took the soda he held out to me and took a long sip, letting the cool liquid soothe my aching throat.

“So,” he said casually, “what do you think of our boy? He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”

Forcing a smile, I said, “He was born for this but we always knew that.”

“It’s still surreal isn’t it?” He glanced at me as we stopped in front of the black curtain separating us from the rest of the arena. “Lena will get a kick out of partying with the guys after the show, you know. Talk about a dream birthday celebration.”

Nodding, I shuffled my feet as the need to move became too much.

He was right; Lena would have a blast. Plus, I knew he was excited about spending time with Alex even though the two of them still talked on a regular basis.

When I’d first found out that I was the only one Alex seemed to have forgotten about I’d been hurt, but I’d gotten over it when it became clear that a ‘regular basis’ meant something completely different to guys. Apparently, a short text every couple of months was enough for them to keep their friendship intact.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Drew said. “You can do this. Even though he’s famous now, he’ll always be just Alex to us.”

That was where he was wrong. Alex was never going to be ‘just Alex’ again.


Giveaway ends November 21st.

The grand prize is:

  • $25 Amazon gift card

Purchase Links:


Angela Flowers is an Indie Author who lives in Virginia with her husband, two sons, and three dogs. Her love for writing began when she was a child. If she wasn’t curled up with a book somewhere, she was crafting her own stories with pen and paper. She followed her passion through college, where she earned a BA in Creative Writing.

When she isn’t writing or homeschooling her two boys, she enjoys reading, listening to music, watching TV and spending time with her family.

Angela’s first book, Silver Linings, was published in February 2015. The second installment, Catch Perfect was also released in 2015, followed by Masquerade in 2016 and Fool’s Paradise in 2019.


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