Cover Reveal:Hard Ever After by Laura Kaye

You Are Invited…

To the Wedding of the Year

  We cannot tell you how excited we are to bring you the Cover Reveal for 

Laura Kaye’s 

HARD EVER AFTER!! 

HARD EVER AFTER is a novella in 

Laura’s New York Times and USA Today bestselling Hard Ink Series, 

published by Avon Impulse. 

You can read all about Nick and Becca's happily ever after on February 2, 2016!! Pre-order your copy of this must-have novella today!  

 

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  About Hard Ever After: 

 Justice served. Honor restored. Team reunited. After a long battle to discover the truth, the men and women of Hard Ink have a lot to celebrate, especially the wedding of two of their own—Nick Rixey and Becca Merritt, whose hard-fought love deserves a happy ending. As Nick and the team shift from crisis mode to building their new security consulting firm, Becca heads back to work at the ER. But amid the everyday chaos of demanding jobs and their upcoming nuptials, an old menace they thought long gone reemerges, threatening the peace they’ve only just found. Now, for one last time, Nick and Becca must fight for their always and forever, because they know that when true love overcomes all the odds it lasts hard ever after. 

   

About Laura Kaye: Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and upcoming Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.      

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Review, Excerpt & Giveaway: LEVELED (A Saints of Denver Novella) by Jay Crownover

We are so excited to bring you the Release Day Launch for LEVELED by Jay Crownover! 

LEVELED is a Contemporary Romance novella in 

The Saints of Denver Series 

being published by HarperCollins. 

This amazing novella releases TODAY, 

so be sure to grab your copy now!

 

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** 

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 Excerpt

He reached out and shut the medical file in front of him and leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows arched up, and he laced his fingers together and put his index fingers under his chin.

“What exactly are you after, Mr. Voss?” His voice was smooth and modulated. I was a disaster, a bundle of nerves and anxiety, and this dude was acting like we were talking about the weather, not my entire life and everything I had ever worked my ass off for.

Defiantly I spread my legs apart and slumped back in the chair across from him, making it a point to affect a posture that was as casual as his was professional. I had on a faded DPD T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee, and both were a little baggy since I’d lost some of my bulk being laid up in the hospital after the accident. If the guy across from me was a cherry-red Ferrari, then I was a rusted-out and battered John Deere tractor in comparison.

“I want my life back, Mr. Frederick. I want to be able to move the way I used to. I want to pass the department physical so I can go back on patrol. I want to be able to walk without needing a crutch or a cane. I want to be the way I was before I got hurt.” I was asking for the impossible and I knew it. “And please call me Dom.”

He dipped his chin down a little, and the edge of his mouth tilted up in a slight grin. Damn the man was good-looking. I blew out a breath and lifted up my hands to run them over the top of my shorn hair. I was hanging on to my sanity by a thread and my unexpected reaction to the guy that I was hanging every hope I had left on wasn’t helping matters.

“All right, Dom. You can call me Lando. That’s what my friends call me.”

I felt one of my eyebrows shoot up. “Are we going to be friends?” 

Don’t miss a Sneak Peek of BUILT, the first full-length novel in the Saints of Denver Series, in the back of LEVELED!

About LEVELED:
 
We all need a hero...let the Saints of Denver begin.

Orlando Frederick knows what it is to be leveled by pain. Instead of focusing on his own, he’s made it his mission to help others: sports stars, wounded war vets, survivors of all kinds. But when Dom, a rugged, damaged, sinfully attractive cop makes his way into Lando’s physical therapy practice, he might be the biggest challenge yet. Lando loved one stubborn man before and barely survived the fallout. He’s not sure if he can do it again.

Dominic Voss is a protector. The police badge he wears is not only his job, it’s his identity, so when he’s sidelined because of an injury, the only thing he cares about is getting back on the force. He expects Lando to mend his body, he just doesn’t realize the trainer will also have him working towards a hell of a lot more. As attraction simmers and flares, Dom sees that Lando needs repair of his own...if only the man will let him close enough to mend what's broken.

What I thought about LEVELED

Fans of the Marked Men series will be familiar with the characters in Leveled,  the first in the Saints of Denver series.  Lando Frederick is still getting over the loss of his first serious boyfriend when Dominic Voss walks into his life.  He needs Lando's physical therapy expertise, and when it turns out there's a major spark between these two, he needs a whole lot more.

Lando still have some issues to work through from his time with Remy and his relationship with Dominic is a bit rocky for a while because of it, until a special occasion and party at Rome's bar bring everything out into the open.

I absolutely adored the scenes between Rule and Lando. They are full of emotion and Rule's special way of telling it like it is that catapulted the Marked Men series to success. The Archer family is the keystone of that series and they gave a nice send off to the new spinoff series with this novella.  

Bring on the Saints of Denver!  Looking forward to Built! 

ARC provided for review.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About Jay Crownover:

Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she'll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.          

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Book Blitz with Excerpt & Giveaway: This Book Will Change Your Life by Amanda Weaver

This Book Will Change Your Life 

by Amanda Weaver

Publication Date: 28 September 2015

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, 

New Adult, Romance

 

 

Buy Links

 Amazon • Paperback • Amazon UK • Amazon CA • B&N • Kobo • iBooks

Synopsis: Take a chance and change your life…

College was supposed to be where Hannah’s hard work paid off, but the major in honors chemistry she’s been working towards since childhood is slipping away. Worse, she’s not sure she wants it anymore. Salvation comes from an unlikely place—a used bookstore and Ben, the passionate college senior who works there.

Ben’s trapped in a life mapped out for him. Trapped in a future career as a lawyer to make his father happy. Trapped pursuing a girl he doesn't even like because she fits into a world he doesn’t want, but can’t escape. But then he meets Hannah. And for the first time, he knows what it means to truly want something.

So he gives in to being her friend. Then to wanting her. Then to kissing her. And within the freedom of his impulsivity, both of their carefully planned lives begin to fall apart...

EXCERPT

 “My parents were always chemists with an interest in pharmaceuticals— That's how they met, in chemistry class in college. But after we lost her…Well, it's more than a job for Dad. He's stayed at Park even though he could make more money someplace else because he believes in the work they do. The drugs they're developing could help so many people. He wants to make a difference.”

“And so do you?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“So you're going to be a chemist, too. That's cool.”

I grimace. “But…”

A pause. “But what?”

I hesitate. “I failed my first chem test. Like, I bombed it. I've been doing chemistry experiments with my dad since I was four. Projects, science fair entries, special assignments— We've done it all together.”

“That's great,” Ben says. “You're lucky to have that kind of relationship with him.”

“But that's the thing— The minute I was on my own, I crashed and burned.”

“It's your first semester. It's rough for everybody. You'll get a handle on it soon.”

“Maybe I don't want to.”

The words just hang there, and I can't take them back. I can't believe I even said them. To Ben, of all people, who I barely know. I bite my lip and close my eyes, fighting a lump in my chest that aches with every breath.

“Are you having some sort of existential crisis while reading Owen Meany, Hannah?” Ben asks with a laugh. Thank God he laughs. If he didn't laugh, I'd probably start crying.

“Maybe. Bet you never expected that when you gave it to me.”

“Books can be dangerous. You never know when they're going to blow up, and what they'll take out when they do. Why do you think dictators are so fond of burning them? One idea can lead to another, and then before you know it, people are going crazy having thoughts and opinions and stuff.”

Now I'm laughing. Actually laughing, even though I just said something that kind of throws my whole life into chaos. But Ben said the exact right thing, and for a moment, I can breathe.

 

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 ABOUT AMANDA WEAVER

Amanda has loved romance since she read that very first Kathleen E. Woodiwiss novel at fifteen. After a long detour into a career as a costume designer in theatre, she’s found her way back to romance, this time as a writer.

A native Floridian, Amanda transplanted to New York City many years ago and now considers Brooklyn home, along with her husband, daughter, two cats, and nowhere near enough space.

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Review:The Rock Star's Secret Baby (Ballybeg Bad Boys #2) by Zara Keane

THE ROCK STAR'S SECRET BABY is out now! This is Muireann's story (pronounced Murr-in or Mwurr-in) and we find out what happened to her after she split up with Gavin in LOVE AND SHENANIGANS.

He'd rocked her world…
Muireann Byrne had it all: money, fiancé, social standing. Now she's a penniless single mother who's determined to get her life back on track. When desperation drives her to accept a housekeeping position on a remote island, she's horrified to discover that her sexy boss is the man who got her pregnant.

…She's about to blow up his life.
Darko Dunne has it all: wealth, fame, success. So why does he feel empty inside? When a beautiful former fling blasts back into his life as his new housekeeper, the jaded rock star's peaceful seclusion on a private island comes to an explosive end.

Faced with a band of ruthless criminals and a ticking clock, Darko and Muireann must pool their resources to rescue the baby he never knew he had. Can they save their son before it's too late?

Buy Links

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Excerpt

Muireann Byrne had spent much of the last year imagining a triumphant return to Ballybeg. A pink sports car featured prominently in the fantasy. In her dream, she zoomed into town wearing the latest designer clothes, complemented by the season’s must-have handbag and accessories. Sunlight was glinting off her newly highlighted hair. A hint of her flat abs was revealed by a hip-hugging miniskirt, and her toned upper arms were displayed to advantage by a spaghetti-strap top.

Blech.

Reality sliced through the movie reel playing in her head. The sound of retching was followed by the acrid stench of baby vomit, which in turn was followed by a loud belch.

Feck. Not again. That was, what, the fourth time since they’d left Lisdoonvarna? “Hold on, little guy.”

On a country lane that narrow, the only place to pull over was the edge of the ditch. With the windshield wipers working overtime, Muireann maneuvered her wreck of a car to the side of the road. Then she heaved herself into the back, where her baby was playing in his car seat, seemingly indifferent to his pukey state.

“Come here, you rascal.” After using a mountain of wet wipes, she’d cleaned his adorable chubby face and replaced his soiled bib with a fresh one. “What am I going to do with you, hmm? Car travel doesn’t agree with your tummy, but we still have a few kilometers to go until we reach Ballybeg.”

James-David beamed at her, all rosy cheeks and drool. “Mama,” he said with delight, then repeated it with emphasis. “Ma. Ma.”

And just like that, her irritation melted, lost in the wonder of contemplating the tiny human who was her son. “That’s right, sweetheart. I’m your mama.”

She dropped a kiss onto his forehead and blew a raspberry. The baby squealed with joy and grabbed a fistful of hair out of her ponytail. Ah, well. It had been so long since she’d been to the hairdresser, she figured James-David couldn’t make her hair look any worse than it already did. A home hair color had transformed her natural mousy hair to a rich copper, and she was still getting used to the transformation.

“Okay, little guy.” She untangled her hair from his fist. “I need to get back in the front now. Promise me that was the last time you’ll get sick until we reach Aunt Bridie’s house. I’ve run out of clean bibs for you.”

James-David appeared to consider her request for a moment, pursing his rosebud lips. Then he blew a bubble and laughed.

So much for that. Grinning, Muireann clambered into the driver’s seat, trying to ignore the wobble of the couple of extra kilos she still needed to lose from her midriff. Squeezing into her outfit had been a challenge, but no way was she showing up in Ballybeg wearing charity shop clothes. Making a good impression was essential—especially given how people felt about her family after her father’s financial shenanigans.

Her stomach churned, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. The thought of leaving James-David during the week was gut wrenching, but if she were to stand a chance of reopening her interior design business and building a solid future for her son, she needed capital. And capital required patience and savings. The housekeeping job she’d accepted on Inish Glas wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was only for a few months.

She turned the key in the ignition. The car wheezed and cut out. Her stomach lurched. Oh hell, no. She was five kilometers from the nearest garage. The car could not crap out on her.

Another turn of the ignition, and still nothing. She reached for her handbag and her mobile phone, and then she remembered. Feck and double feck. The phone company had disconnected her number after she hadn’t paid the bill two months in a row. Groaning, she put her head on the steering wheel.

“Okay,” she said aloud, “I can do this. I can get this car to start.” She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath. After another couple of tries, the car spluttered into life. Muireann eased it back onto the road and accelerated.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

One by one, a series of warning lights flashed on the dashboard. The tension in her shoulders increased, making her weak neck ache. Four months after slipping a disc in her upper spine, the pain was just about bearable, but liable to flare up at the slightest provocation. Seeing her rust bucket of a car falling apart before her eyes definitely qualified as a stress factor.

Another warning danced on the dashboard. Feck. She’d need to dig out the manual and check which vital part of the car was malfunctioning. At this rate, the whole vehicle would fall apart before she reached the outskirts of town.

“Stupid fecking car,” she muttered. “I forked out the last of my savings to buy you. The least you could do is get me all the way to Ballybeg.”

“Feck,” James-David said in a singsong voice from the backseat. “Feckin’ car.”

“Don’t say bad words, baby. Mama is a terrible influence.” Smiling despite herself, she increased the pressure on the gas pedal, but the vehicle merely chugged along at a snail’s pace. “Come on,” she urged, “just another couple of kilometers.”

At the sound of screeching brakes, she jerked her gaze to the rearview mirror.
A red sports car hugged her bumper, flashing its lights in an impatient manner. Through the tinted windscreen, she couldn’t see the driver, but the whole aggressive lights and beeping horn business screamed testosterone.

“Typical man. They drive with their dicks. Can’t he see I’m having problems? Wouldn’t a gentleman stop to see if I needed help?”

“Dick. Dick,” sang James-David.

The sports car’s driver sounded the horn again, revving the engine for maximum intimidation. Clearly, helping a damsel in distress was not on his to-do list.

Crap. She pressed down on the accelerator but barely brought the speedometer over fifteen kilometers per hour. She was reluctant to pull over a second time in case she couldn’t get the damn thing moving again, but that eejit was leaving her no choice.

Exhaling a groan, she pulled over at the next opportunity, leaving the engine running.

The sports car overtook her, sitting on his horn.

She flipped him the finger. Honestly. What an arsehole.

Shaking with anger, she pulled back out onto the road and pressed down on the accelerator. An ominous hiss sounded, and plumes of smoke coiled out from beneath the hood of the car. “Oh, feck.”

Yet more warning lights pinged on the dashboard.

Muireann pulled over to the edge of the ditch and slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “No. No, no, no.”

Hot tears coursed down her cheeks. She’d have to walk through the rain to the nearest garage, carrying James-David and his car seat. She’d sold his buggy two days ago. It was an expensive model and had been a gift from her mother when her parents still had money. She’d received enough cash to cover what she owed her landlady and fill the petrol tank for today’s trip. So much for making a fiscally responsible decision.

“Okay, little guy. We’re going to get into our rain gear and I’ll put you in your carrier. Sound good?”

“Good-good.” Everything sounded good to James-David.

Outside, the dark clouds and heavy rain made it easy to forget it was morning.
Muireann opened the back of the car and located the baby carrier. By the time she’d wrestled James-David into it and attached the hood to keep him dry, she was already soaked to the skin. Her bad back made carrying anything more than a couple of kilos a trial. Although Aunt Bridie had found a used buggy to replace the one Muireann had sold, it was at her aunt’s house. And to get there, she had to somehow flag down a passing car or trudge to the garage and call Bridie to collect them.

The going was wet, muddy, and bitterly cold. Two vehicles passed her on the road—a car, too busy breaking the speed limit to notice a rain-sodden woman hauling a baby, and a tractor whose driver had the audacity to give her a friendly wave when he passed.

“Mama.” James-David, warm and dry in the carrier, was enjoying their forced march. His mother was not. Just in case being stripped of her home, possessions, and dignity wasn’t sufficient humiliation, she would be returning to her hometown wet, bedraggled, and down to her last twenty euros.

If only that fool in the sports car hadn’t forced her to pull over. She might have made it to the garage, albeit at a slow pace. She might at that very moment be enjoying a warm cup of tea while Billy Driscoll fixed her car.

After twenty minutes of mud-soaked trudging, Muireann paused in front of a redbrick building to catch her breath. “That’s my old primary school.” She pointed out the playground swings. “Maybe you’ll go there in a few years. And there across the road is the house we lived in before my father bought Clonmore House.”

A lump formed in her throat when she regarded the smart but modest four-bedroom house. They’d been happy in those days, her and her parents. Once they’d moved into the big house, the fragile threads that had held their family together had begun to unravel. She adjusted the straps of the baby carrier to reduce pressure on her already aching neck. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t quit on her son—not emotionally, not physically, not any which way.

In another couple of minutes, Driscoll’s garage came into view. After checking for traffic, Muireann hurried across the road and jogged the last few meters.

And stopped short.

The red sports car was parked carelessly in front of the garage. A tall man paced before the car, lithe as a panther. The hood of his raincoat was pulled tight. He had a mobile phone pressed to his ear. Although she was too far away to hear what he was saying, the man’s jerky hand gestures and impatient movements gave the impression he was displeased.

Anger burned in her chest like acid. “I’ll give him something to be pissed off about,” she muttered and marched over to the architect of her present predicament. “You—” Muireann jabbed a finger at Mr. Cool, “—are a wanker.”

“Anker,” James-David repeated contentedly from the comfort of his mother’s warm chest.

The man spun to face her. His eyebrows arched over a pair of oddly ill-fitting sunglasses. Between his sunglasses and his tightly fastened hood, it was difficult to tell what he looked like beyond the lightly tanned skin, chiseled cheekbones, and bearded jaw. “Excuse me? Have I just been called a wanker by a complete stranger and an infant?”

Muireann’s cheeks burned when he took in her dripping raincoat and her mud-caked shoes. “If you hadn’t forced me to pull over, my car wouldn’t have stalled, and I wouldn’t have had to haul arse through mud and rain to find a garage.”

“You’re the driver of that wreck I overtook a few kilometers back?”

His voice was deep and rich and familiar. A pang of longing and regret hit her in the solar plexus. Except for his obnoxious personality and facial hair, he reminded her of James-David’s father. Bittersweet memories of their sun-and-cocktail-drenched holiday fling filled her mind. She shuttered them and focused on giving the man in front of her a right bollocking.

“That wreck was my only mode of transportation. Thanks to you, I’ve had to carry my baby all the way here, plus lug his car seat and changing bag.”

“Sorry, lady,” he said, sounding not the least contrite, “but that vehicle isn’t roadworthy. You shouldn’t be driving your kid around in a car held together by rust and nails.”

“Not everyone can afford a Ferrari.”

The car’s owner winced. “It’s a Porsche,” he said with emphasis. “Custom made.”

“Whatever. A sports car is a sports car.” She crossed her arms, ignoring James-David’s delighted wriggling. “A gentleman would have noticed I was in trouble and stopped to help.”

“I’m not clairvoyant,” he said with a touch of impatience, “and I was in a rush. Had I known you were having car trouble, I’d have stopped.”

Muireann snorted. “In a rush? You were driving like a maniac. Do you want to kill someone?”

A muscle in the man’s cheek twitched. Even hidden behind weird sunglasses, he was handsome. High cheekbones, chiseled jaw, just enough facial scruff to look casually rough but not unkempt. “My GPS thinks this is a police station, but all I found is a construction site.” He gestured to the half-built structure to the left of Driscoll’s Garage.

“They’re rebuilding Ballybeg Garda Station. In the meantime, they’re in a temporary building.”

The man swore beneath his breath. “Any idea where?”

She shrugged. “I’m useless with directions. They won’t mean much to you unless you’re familiar with Ballybeg.”

“You could show me, though?” He scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Here’s the deal. I’ll drop you and your kid off wherever you want to go if you help me get to the police station.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not keen on getting into a car with a lunatic. You seem to think you’re a race car driver.”

That elicited a laugh. “No. I’m a musician in a hurry.”

“A…musician?” The horror of realization formed a ball of acid in her stomach the instant he whipped off his shades to reveal a pair of piercing green eyes.

The man wasn’t just familiar. She knew him. He was the backpacker who’d knocked her up in Australia twenty-seven months ago.


What I thought about The Rock Star's Secret Baby

I've been wondering what happened to Muireann since she her engagement to Gavin imploded at the altar in Love and Shenanigans and The Rock Star's Secret Baby did not disappoint me. (Don't you just love that title?)

Muireann returns to Ballybeg with her new son in tow, a bad family reputation and not very much money to her name. But she's spunky and dedicated to her child and has taken a housekeeping appointment on an island off the coast.  When her babysitter leaves her in the lurch, she has to bring her son with her to her new live-in job.

Aware that her new employer is both her son's father and a rock star hiding away from the public, Muireann is open to leaving or staying, depending on how Darko Dunne (aka Damian, as Muireann knows him) handles the news of the outcome of their torrid two day affair in Australia.

I don't want to spoil anything for you here, but I loved Darko's reaction to James-David, and when a mystery on the island threatens to harm the people he cares about, he isn't afraid to take action.  I really liked the interactions between Muireann and Darko, and the unlawful activities on the island give a nice bit of spice to the story.

I love my little trips to the fictional town of Ballybeg and although this story doesn't focus so much on the little Irish community, it still had the flavor of what I love about Zara Keane's two series set in this locale. This book is the second in the Ballybeg Bad Boys series, and I'm looking forward to more. 

ARC provided for review.

About the Author

Zara Keane grew up in Dublin, Ireland, but spent her summers in a small town very similar to the fictional Ballybeg.

She currently lives in Switzerland with her family. When she’s not writing or wrestling small people, she drinks far too much coffee, and tries – with occasional success – to resist the siren call of Swiss chocolate.

To listen to her talking about the Ballybeg series and her plans for future books, check out the Audio Files page.

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