Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Men On Motorcycles Julie Ann Walker Spotlight Tour @JAWalkerAuthor.




About the Book

Title: Too Hard To Handle
Author: Julie Ann Walker
Release Date: September 1, 2015
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Summary
"The Man" is back
Dan "The Man" Currington is back in fighting form with a mission that takes him four thousand miles south of BKI headquarters, high in the Andes Mountains of Peru. He's hot on the trail of a rogue CIA agent selling classified government secrets to the highest bidder, when Penni DePaul arrives on the scene. Suddenly the stakes are higher, and keeping Penni safe becomes Dan's number one priority.
And this time she's ready
A lot has changed since former Secret Service Agent Penni DePaul last saw Dan. Now a civilian, she's excited about what the future might hold. But before she can grab onto that future with both hands, she has to tie up some loose ends-namely, Dan Currington, the man she just can't forget. And a secret that's going to change both their lives-if they can stay alive, that is.
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Excerpt: Too Hard To Handle by Julie Ann Walker

“Luke Winterfield,” Dan growled. “Under the authority granted to me by the government of the United States of America, I hereby inform you that you’re totally screwed. You made a choice to sell out your country and now you’re gonna face the consequences. Reap the whirlwind, asshole.”

“Nice,” Zoelner said. “Have you been holding on to that one for a while?”

“Came up with it in Bogotá,” Dan admitted, a definite grin in his tone.

“I like it.”

“Thought you might.”

“Really though,” Zoelner went on, “I was expecting some quote from Ted Nugent or Eminem.”

“I can come up with my own material, you know,” Dan insisted. “It’s just I like to give credit to my hometown whenever I can. To make up for the place getting such a bad rap.”

“Maybe it’s because so much bad rap has come out of there,” Zoelner mused. “Insane Clown Posse comes to mind.”

“Hey,” Dan whispered urgently, “don’t say that too loud. You’ll have groups of juggalos beating down your door.”

Zoelner snorted.

“And just so you know,” Dan went on, “what I’ve learned out of this lifetime is you should be proud of where you come from.”

“I’m waiting…”

“Kid Rock said that. Via his Twitter account.”

“And there it is.”

***

Author Biography

Julie Ann Walker is the USA Today and New York Times bestselling Author of the Black Knights Inc. romantic suspense series. She is prone to spouting movie quotes and song lyrics. She'll never say no to sharing a glass of wine or going for a long walk. She prefers impromptu travel over the scheduled kind, and she takes her coffee with milk. You can find her on her bicycle along the lake shore in Chicago or blasting away at her keyboard, trying to wrangle her capricious imagination into submission. For more information, please visit www.julieannwalker.com or follow her on Facebookwww.facebook.com/jawalkerauthor and/or Twitter @JAWalkerAuthor.

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RELEASE BLITZ My Lady Faye by Sarah Hegger @givemebooksblog @SarahHegger




Title: My Lady Faye
Series: Sir Arthur's Legacy #2
Author: Sarah Hegger
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Genre: Historical Romance (Medieval)
 Release Date: September 1, 2015



Blurb

The Lady
The fair Lady Faye has always played the role allotted her. Yet the marriage her family wanted only brought her years of abuse and heartache. Now, finally free of her tyrannical husband, she is able to live her own life for the first time. But someone from the past has returned. Someone she has never been able to forget.

The Warrior
After years of servitude as a warrior for King and Country, Gregory is now free to pursue his own path: to serve God by becoming a monk. The only thing stopping him is Faye. Gregory has loved Faye since the moment he saw her. But their love was not meant to be. How can he serve God when his heart longs for her? He can neither forsake God nor the woman he loves.

The Promise
When Faye’s son is kidnapped, Gregory answers her family’s call for help, only to find that even in the most dangerous of circumstances, neither can fight their forbidden attraction. An attraction that now burns brighter than ever before. And it is only a matter of time until it consumes them both.







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Excerpt

The ache in Gregory’s knees brought him closer to God. Hunger gnawed at his belly and reminded him of his connection with the Lord. For three days, he had fasted and prayed, waited for God to show him the way to enter into service.

God remained silent.

He must pray harder and keep at it until he had his answer. God’s way was not always the way of man and His divine timing did not always answer the impetuous call of sinners.

Something clattered through the bars of his cell.

Gregory started, but kept his eyes closed. He could afford no distractions in his wait for God to deign to speak with him. Sweat broke out on his brow. He bowed his head. “Dear Father in Heaven...”

Another skittering across the floor and Gregory opened his eyes.

A pebble lay almost within reach at his knees, a pale trespasser against the dark stone floor of his bare cell. A thin pallet rested against one wall, stripped of linen except for a rough blanket. On the opposite wall a tiny barred window overlooked the fields were they worked each day. Above it, a stark wooden cross served as a reminder that all here was by Grace alone. Beneath the casement stood a plain wood table and a bench.

The Abbey bell tolled Terce over the undulating chant of the monks reciting the second of the Little Hours of the Divine Office. Father Abbott had understood his need for private meditation, but he would be expected at Lauds.

“Psst!”

Not God at all, unless the Almighty had grown a set of large hands and gripped the bars of his cell so tightly His knuckles turned white.

A dark head popped over the lip, followed by dark eyebrows and the sharply drawn planes of a face many a lass considered handsome.

“Garrett?” Gregory’s knees creaked as he rose. Sharp pain lanced through his long-frozen muscles. Three days, most of which spent on your knees, would turn any man’s limbs into a grandfather’s. “Is that you?”

“Aye?” Garrett blinked away a sweat droplet that snaked down his brow and into his eye. His face turned redder. “Only could you come down, I am not sure how much longer I can hang on.”

“Did you climb the side?”

Teeth clenched, Garret said, “Aye and I am about to go tumbling on my ass, so get down here.”

Garrett’s head disappeared from view as he scrabbled down the side of the two-story dormitory.

If Garrett was here, something was amiss at Anglesea. Sir Arthur might have sent him with news. My Lady Faye. His blood thrummed in his ears. Fresh sweat prickled over his skin as he wrenched open his door and trotted down the empty corridor. He took the stairs three at a time. Unease spurred him into a run.

From the chapel the monk’s voices called and responded in prayer as he entered the kitchen yard. Singing voices reminded him he had left his former life behind, but he needed to check all was well.

Garrett appeared out of the dark shadows around the dormitory.

The smell of incense hung heavy in the air.

“What is it?” Gregory closed the distance between them.

Garrett’s expression was grim, his shoulders tense. “You must come.”

“To Anglesea?”

“Aye.” Garrett turned and motioned him to follow.

Gregory took a step and froze. He couldn’t go with Garrett. Outside these walls was not his life anymore. His calling lay here at the Abbey. “I cannot.”

Sharp strides driving divots into the soft, bare earth, Garrett strode back to him. “You must come. Sir Arthur sent me for you.”

Sir Arthur would not have sent for him if it weren’t urgent. Sir Arthur had sponsored him as a postulant to the Abbey and he owed the man for that. But he owed God his obedience and he had put his former life aside. “My place is here now.”

“Your place is where you are needed.” Movements sharp and jerky, Garrett gestured to outside the Abbey.

He didn’t want to ask the question. It did not concern him. Yet, his stubborn gut demanded an answer. “What has happened?”

Garrett clasped his arm. “It is Faye.”

“What?” His muscles bunched in response. The words rasped from his throat. Dear Father, please do not let her be...

What? Hurt, or worse, reconciled with Calder. He grabbed the other man’s tunic, twisting his hand in the fabric.

Garrett shrugged him off. “I will explain as we ride.”

He couldn’t go. He couldn’t not go. Again, the same tussle within him. Faye or the Abbey, his lady versus his God. It never ended.

Garrett stepped closer until his face was inches away. “Beatrice is worrying herself sick. She carries our first child and if I have to tie your saintly ass on a horse, you are coming with me. Faye needs you.”

Faye needed him. The confusion cleared. It was all Garrett need say. Clean, crisp purpose flooded his being. “Do you have a horse for me?”
 
Garrett’s grim face softened into a smile. “Come on, before one of your monks catches sight of me and tosses me in there.”




Author Bio


Who am I?

Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A hot Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble.

Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.

She currently lives in Littleton, Colorado, with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.

She loves to hear from readers and you can find her at any of the places below.



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Release Day Blitz for Finding Sam by Taylor Lavati @SBB_PROMOTIONS @taylorjlavati

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Title:  Finding Sam (A Reliant Love #2)
 Author: Taylor Lavati 
Release Day Blitz: September 1, 2015 
Genre: New Adult Dark Romance 
Hosted by: S.B.B. Promotions

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Sometimes, the past isn’t supposed to be forgotten.
Sam is convinced he’s cursed. Everything he touches dies. He leaves his past behind and travels across the country, hoping the distance will save the loved ones he’s left.  When his car breaks down, he becomes stranded, finding comfort in a stray dog.
Despite the fact that he refuses to build any relationships, the people of Sterling, Colorado wiggle their way into his heart. His adopted dog, Lucky, shows him he can handle responsibility. His new boss, Lenny, shows him he has purpose. His neighbor, Izzy, shows him he’s capable of love again. But can Sam find happiness after he’s lost it all?
Finding Sam, the sequel to the bestselling novel of addiction and attraction, A Reliant Love, is a tale of redemption, acceptance, and finding yourself.

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~ Chapter 1 ~

Sam
Ten days without Nathalie. Ten days in a dark world with no purpose. It’s been ten days too long staying in this empty town, but I don’t have much of a choice. I had to get my shit together before I up and left. I think if I would have driven out of town right after the funeral, they’d have called the cops on me. I have to act normal, pretend I’m okay, to convince them I’ve moved on.
My black bag sits in the middle of the empty room, regurgitating piles of dark clothing. It’s the only bag I’ve allowed myself to pack. Secretly, I’ve been emptying the house. My parents know it’s on the market, I’ve left it up to them to finish the sale and deal with it. It’s about the only thing they’ve ever been supportive of—my leaving for good.
After the funeral, everyone refused to leave me at home alone. Despite the fact that this is my home, the one place that still has signs of Nat in it, they infiltrated it with their presence and hovered.
Today’s the first day I’ve woken up alone. Oddly enough it’s also the last day I’ll be here. I get up off the bed I used to share with Nat and shove the clothes into my bag and zip it up. This little duffle bag is going to be my one possession until I get wherever I’m heading.
I still haven’t figured that out. The downstairs kitchen smells like burnt chicken and lemon-scented candles. Nathalie had been making dinner before she came to pick me up. I refuse to remove the food or change anything in the house. The movers or my parents can do it. I don’t need to.
On the kitchen counter sits a brown paper bag that the hospital gave me. Well, they didn’t give it to me. I hadn’t been allowed to leave my room yet, the night it all went to shit. They wanted to make sure that I didn’t have bleeding on my brain so they were forcing me to spend the night.
Even after my rehab stint, I’d never felt so helpless, so confined. Petey and Sarah refused to leave my side despite the fact that I kept lashing out at them. I had just fixed my relationship with Petey after our falling out from high school. He was able to move past the tragedy with his sister, Sarah and let me back in his life. Sarah always forgave me for the accident, but things were looking up. All my relationships were moving in a positive manner. I remember in the hospital telling Petey what a terrible person he was, and jabbing Sarah with my words of how she’d be settling with her fiancé.
Like me pushing them away would make things better. I hate that I felt the need to assault them with my words. I hate that I made the already tragic situation worse. But at that moment, I was in shock and hated everything around me, mostly myself.
But it kept getting worse and worse. Her parents showed up in about an hour flat. I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, but I recognized her mom’s voice from what I had heard through the phone numerous times. The second I heard it, I almost thought it was Nat; my brain playing tricks on me, teasing me, torturing me. I’d never hear Nat’s voice again.
The orderly’s packed Nat’s belongings in a small Ziploc bag. I pick it up off the ground, knowing there’s only one small item inside. I won’t part ways with it. The last chip of my soul refuses to let it go. I shove it into the side compartment of my bag and zip it up tight, double checking to make sure there’s no way it could fall out.
After deciding to leave the East Coast and place as much mileage between me, and my friends, and family, as possible, I knew I couldn't ditch the truck. Despite needing the fucking thing gone from my life forever, I can’t afford to get a new car and have enough left over from what I’ve saved to live off of.
But first chance I get, it’s gone. It smells like her. Sugar and flowers.
I’ve been meeting with Karen every day since the night Nat was stolen from me. I’m not supposed to call it anything other than an accident, but in my eyes, it could have been prevented. This was no accident. This was a life-changing moment that will forever affect me.
I pull my truck into the office parking lot and cut the ignition. Karen doesn’t work in town—I met her while in rehab two hours away—but she’s been using one of her colleague’s offices to meet with me. She said it was important that I had support. She’d met my parents numerous times and deemed them not responsible to care for me. I can’t blame her. I’d been in recovery twice and both times, they weren’t around.
There’s always this nagging pulling in my stomach before I meet with Karen. I know it’s nerves like she’s going to uncover a deeply-rooted, hidden secret I’m not ready to hear. Not that I think I have secrets because I don’t. I’m a recovering drug addict who’s followed by a curse where I hurt those I love. That’s pretty much the bottom line, although if I said any of that out loud, Karen would scold me for days. Maybe I will say it today since it’s my last day to meet with her before I leave.
I don’t bother knocking or ringing the bell. Ten days of the same thing over and over, I’ve become used to the routine. I walk past the staircase and knock on the door of the office. Karen yells for me to come in, so I do.
“Hi, Sam!” She smiles at me, flashing her teeth as she stands behind the desk and reaches over. I take her hand and shake it. She picks up her green-rimmed glasses and crumbled note pad and walks around the desk. She sits in an identical chair to mine beside me.
“How are you?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Fine, how are you today?”
“I’m good.”
“Is that because you’re leaving or because you genuinely feel good?” She narrows her eyes. That’s the problem with meeting someone frequently and having them know you; you can’t trick them.
I shrug in response.
“Instead of talking about you today, I wanted to leave you with some knowledge to help you in the future. I know hashing out your insecurities is good, and I love seeing you have a break through. But since you’re leaving, I’m worried you won’t understand the feelings you are going to experience. So, I’ll give you some information to help along the steps today. Sound good?” She flips the page of her notebook, making a crinkling sound as it flies over.
“Whatever you want to do,” I tell her, because honestly, I couldn’t care less. An hour or two more and I’ll be out of here. And an hour or two more after that, and I’ll be free from all of this pressure to be okay.
“I know we touched on the stages of grief before and I had you guess where you were, so I want to start there. Have you given it anymore thought?”
“Yeah, I still think it’s stupid. That chart, those seven feelings don’t really define what I’m feeling. I’ve accepted that she’s gone, but that doesn’t mean I’m over it. I’m not in shock…I know she’s gone. I feel her absence on a daily basis. So, I don’t fucking know where I am.”
“The stages are just a guideline, Sam. I’ve told you this.”
“I know…and it still doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Well, I want to go over them again so you relate to what you’re feeling. I agree that you’re not in the first stage anymore. The first stage you experienced in the hospital. You refused to see people, wouldn’t admit she was gone.” I squeeze my fist so tight my knuckles bloom white. Don’t remember her, I chant to myself, stop thinking of the hospital. No more memories today.
“The second stage is pain, sometimes guilt. Your life is going to be chaotic, a little crazy. You’ll feel guilty, kind of like your curse belief. But it hurts, a lot. The third stage is bargaining. Here is when you’re going to ask questions like, ‘Why me? Why her?’. You’ll probably lash out at people, get frustrated. If you begin to feel this way, try to tamp it down, find something that will calm you down. You don’t want to push away those around you.
“Let’s see…” She flips another page in her notebook and shoves the end of the pen in her mouth, chewing the plastic part. “The next is depression. With your added history of substance abuse, this is definitely a pronounced concern. It is not a question of if you will experience depression from this life-changing event, it’s a question of when. And honestly, Sam, you will need to seek help. Wherever you end up, find a therapist, give them my number, and have them call me. Depression is a legitimate disease and you, nobody, should have to live through the loneliness, despair, emptiness, and unworthiness alone. You understand? You find someone to help you.” I nod. “Say it.”
“I understand. I’ll get help.”
“Swear it to me. When you end up where you think you’ll stay, if you feel the signs of depression, you’ll talk to someone. Please, Sam. You know I care about you. I would hate to see you in the condition we met in. Okay?”
“Okay, Karen.” I widen my eyes at her pushiness. “I get it. I can’t do it alone.”
“It’s not that you can’t, Sam. You shouldn’t have to. You deserve better.” She shakes her head, blinking away tears. “Okay, after that…you’ll hit the upward spiral. You’ll start feeling just a little better every day. Then you’ll start to reconstruct your life, fix things, change things, and move forward. The last stage is acceptance. It’s pretty self-explanatory. But once you’re here, you’ll see hope in the future, understanding, and crave the normal.”
“And what? Nathalie’ll just be a distant memory?”
“Of course not. You’re stages of grief have nothing to do with her memory. And just because you accept that she’s gone doesn’t mean you forget her. In fact, I urge you to remember her, remember the good things. In a healthy way of course.”
“Of course.” I nod, mocking her.
“I also want to mention something. The chances of you relapsing at a time like this are astronomical. I think the rates are at about fifty percent during times of stress and within the first year of sobriety. However, I need to explain what will happen if you were to relapse and go back to cocaine.
“Because your body has no cocaine systemically any longer, your chances of dying during a relapse skyrocket. I’m sure you were used to injesting large amounts at a time. If you were to take what you were taking at your peak using time, you’d most likely die, right?”
I nod. My heart spikes and my palms sweat. It’s too real. But even talking about it makes me want to try it just to remember the feels. I miss the high. I’ve been low for so long now.
“Odds are, someone you will meet uses cocaine. It’s the second most used drug in the country. But you’re a strong man, Sam. I believe you won’t go back to using. And I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Heavy tears slide down her reddened cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” I ask her in a voice that can only be described as emotionless. I clear my throat, holding it in.
“I’m going to miss you,” she blurts out. “I know you’ve been through hell and back. But I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Sam. I hope I’ve helped you in even the slightest way possible.” She places her notepad beside her and leans forward. Her arms circle my neck and she tugs me against her. She squeezes and then pushes me back.
“You’ve helped me,” I say. “You’ve helped me a lot, Karen.”
“You have my number, right? You have everything? Money?”
“I don’t need your money, Karen. I have enough to get me across the country and be fine. Don’t worry about me, okay?”
“Of course I’ll worry about you!” She slaps my knee. “You’re a great man, Sam. You’ll make someone happy. First, you have to find your own way. And stop worrying about this curse. You aren’t cursed, I swear. You have your new therapist, so call. That’s an order.”
“Got it.” My throat swells a little bit, tastes salty. Truth is, I’ll miss Karen. I’ll miss all of them. But this is for the best. I have to separate myself. This is for their own good. Damn, I’m doing this for them!
I slam my lips together, blink once to stop my emotions, stand, and leave the office for good. I won’t be coming back here. And I won’t see these people again.

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~ A Reliant Love ~

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Nathalie Carter wants one thing: independence. She has paid her dues by living at home under her parents’ watchful eyes, earning grades to give her a ticket out and joining clubs she had no interest in to get into college.
She plans to experience things she believes every new adult should—from falling in love to playing beer pong and pulling an all-nighter to skipping class because she’s too hungover. But nothing ever seems to go as planned, and she gets pulled into a world she never imagined existed.
Samuel Torrington’s past refuses to release him from its vise-like grip; but he has a plan, and once his senior year of college is over, he can finally move away and start anew. His addictions help him get through day-to-day life, but he’s constantly battling darker demons.
Fate brings the two together, and chance takes them on a roller coaster ride that neither would dare hop off. Within destiny’s grasp, they realize there are two things impossible to fight—addiction and attraction.

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Taylor Lavati is a twenty-something year old author residing in a small town in Connecticut with her husband and dog. She writes both Young Adult and New Adult with ranging genres from fantasy, A Curse Books trilogy, to dark romance, A Reliant Love. Romance with a bit of CHAOS. Find out more at taylorlavati.com

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RELEASE BLITZ Playing House by Mira Day @givemebooksblog @MiraDayAuthor




Title: Playing House
Author: Mira Day
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult
 Release Date: September 1, 2015



Blurb

Sometimes you have to do things differently in order to be happy.

Hannah Bishop thinks her life is going along as planned….until she discovers that her boyfriend, Connor, is cheating on her.

She has no idea that breaking up with him will lead her to the happiness she deserves—even when Caleb Matthews, the city’s most eligible bachelor and a regular at the café where Hannah works, steps up to help her.

Hannah uncovers secrets about the man she’s running from and the man who has become her hero, realizing that not everything in life is black and white.

Combining love and action, Playing House explores the secrets people keep and the personal choices everyone must make to achieve happiness.

**Note: This story contains strong character appropriate language, violence and sexual situations.**







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Excerpt

“Well, lucky for you, I’m still a loser and didn’t find anything better to do last night. I made you guys a lasagna and mint mocha cookies.” I beam. I love outdoing myself for them.

“Seriously?” Danny pumps his hand in the air. “I fucking love you!”

“Dude! Watch your mouth!” Thankfully, the family has already left. Caleb doesn’t seem fazed by the outburst, but I can see he’s holding back a laugh.

“All right guys, the lasagna is in the back cooler. Just throw it in the oven to reheat while the girls and I finish up.”

I make my way over to Caleb’s table. “Anything else for you today, Mr. Matthews?”

“Your cooks don’t cook for the staff?”

I shrug. “Um, well, after a while we all get bored of the food here so we try to make something different.”

“Yeah, I can see sticking to the ‘usual’ could get a bit boring.” He chuckles.

I shrug. “Some people just know what they want.”

“Right you are, Miss Hannah.” Caleb licks his lips lightly. “I’ll take the check.”

I slip the pleather check book out of my apron and place it on the table, but he has his credit card on it before I can move my hand away and grazes my knuckles with his fingertips.

I feel my cheeks burn. “Uh, I’ll be right back.” I walk back to the terminal, where Lizzy is counting out her tickets.

She eyes me. “Hmmm, that’s an interesting grin you have, Han.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I know my continuing blush is giving me away. She sticks her tongue out, and I roll my eyes overdramatically.

Caleb stands as I place his check back on the table. He’s much taller than I expected, and his presence causes my heart to pound in my ears.

“Until next time, Miss Hannah.”

I gulp. “Until next time, Mr. Matthews.”

After Caleb leaves, we lock the doors for the day. Cleaning off the table, I pick up the check book and see the corner of a napkin sticking out. I open the book to find a twenty-dollar tip and a napkin with a note: 

Maybe next time I’ll ask you for a cookie.






Author Bio


Mira Day is a New Adult Romance writer, born in the Carolinas with a passion for food. She loves the outdoors, NFL football and exclamation points! You'll usually find her working, writing or catching up with Friends on Netflix. She has two other small works published and is working on her second book, due out in 2016.



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RELEASE BLITZ Next by Rachael Brownell @givemebooksblog @HoldingOn2013




Title: Next
Series: Kiss #1
Author: Rachael Brownell
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: September 1, 2015



Blurb

What if one kiss could change everything?

It did, for Reagan Brooks. Her fascination with Luke Evans went from a school-girl crush to heart-wrenching love in an instant. Then he left town, leaving a starry-eyed Reagan in his wake. No one will ever be good enough. No kiss will ever compare to his. Reagan’s standards are high. When someone doesn’t meet them, she moves on.

“Next in line, please.”

Moving through life with unrealistic expectations can be damaging. Letting those expectations go… It’s in that moment we find out who we are and what we really want.







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Excerpt

I run, as fast as I can. I'm not athletic. I don't play sports. I know he's going to catch me. That's what I want, right? For him to catch me?

My legs feel like jelly. I feel his hand graze my arms once, twice, then I'm caught. I should have started running sooner, faster. It doesn't matter. He would have caught me regardless.

"You shouldn't have let me catch you, Gracie." He pulls me back into his chest, lifting my feet off the ground, as the meaning behind his words begins to register.

"Who says I let you?" I know challenging him isn't a good idea, but I haven't learned how to filter my thoughts around him.

"I do. I know you can run faster than that. I think you wanted me to catch you."

"Really?" I say, struggling to break from his hold. It's no use. He's much stronger than me and since he's holding me off the ground, I can't use my legs for leverage.

"Yes, really. I think you knew what would happen when I caught you."

"And what is that?" I begin to struggle again and this time he lets me break free, but I don't get far. Two steps, maybe, before he's got a hold of my wrist and is pulling me back to him. This time we are chest to chest. I crash into the front of him and can't hide the way my body reacts. I'm sure he can see it, feel it. My breathing is ragged and it's not from running.

"Look at me, Gracie," he commands and I do as he says. Not because I want to but because my body wants to.

"Why do you insist on calling me that? It's not my name, you know?" I love it, though. I would never tell him that, or anyone else.

"Because. You're my angel fallen from grace. It suits you. You're beautiful and you know it. What I don't understand is why you want me?"

"Who says I want you?"

How the hell did he figure it out? No one knows.


"Your body says a lot of things. It's telling me right now how much you want me. The question is – what exactly do you want from me because there are a few things that I can offer you." He wraps his arms around me a little tighter as I contemplate how I want to answer him.





Author Bio

Rachael Brownell is the author of both YA and NA Romance. She's from Kalamazoo, Michigan where she still lives with her husband and son. She has a Bachelor's degree in Advertising but currently works in the hospitality industry. When Rachael is not working on her next manuscript, you might find her on the golf course. (It's a family thing) If you see her, step back. She is still learning.



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